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l0standn0tf0und · 5 months

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damn perfect hair and damn marvelous eyes

george weasley x fem!reader (hints on short!bookworm!fem!reader)

words| +- 4400

in short| classic story. George falls in love with his best friend. nothing more and nothing less

warnings| my english, angst, fluffy ending, mention of sex and long ranting about George's feelings

author’s note| it's supposed to be a short one. About 1000 words or so, but I got excited. and well, I tried to make it George's pov. because, you know, ✨️his pov✨️. also, it's my first scribbling in two years. enjoy))

He has been with other girls. He'd even said he has been with a lot of other girls.

There were a couple of girls he dated for a while. There were those he just fucked with. A quickie after a Quidditch match won't hurt anyone. It doesn't matter whether he won this match or not. He's well aware of the fact, that girls like him. But none of these so-called relationships were serious. Perhaps this was because he didn't consider any of them as something serious.

He tried this relationship thing because he was curious, what it's like to date a girl. But during his dates, bringing a cup, all painted with tiny violets, to his lips and listening to the chatter of his now ex-girlfriend, he thought that she'd never say such a thing and she'd never order such a lusciously sweet cupcake. And she wouldn't have dragged him to Madam Puddifoot's in the first place.

After smashing Hufflepuff to smithereens on the Quidditch field, he pressed some Ravenclaw's back to one of the walls in the locker room, pounding deep into her, hearing this girl's moans become louder with each thrust. He caught himself thinking about what her moans would sound like. Would she be filthy and loud underneath him or her moans would be more shaky and soft?

He wouldn't say any of these girls were bad, unattractive, or something like that. Just the opposite, all of them were great. But they simply weren't…her. She got deep under his skin, intertwined with his veins, and blossomed in his lungs. She was his Flower. That's how he called her.

George remembers clearly well how it started. No, not his feelings, they started so naturally, that he didn't even notice how he fell for her. George remembers clearly well how he started calling her flower. This happened back in the second year, during History of Magic. He was getting more and more bored by the second in that stuffy classroom. And there was nothing unusual about it. He got bored very easily. So he quietly began scribbling in the corner of her parchment. He remembers the angry look little Y/N gave him as she carefully pushed her piece of paper away from the redhead. She was also bored but did her best to focus on Professor Binns' words. But George continued, all smiling and trying to stifle his giggles caused by her irritation. At some point, his incomprehensible doodles began to look like something that resembled Professor Binns, but his glasses and mustache were abnormally large compared to everything else. She smiled, took George's hand, and carefully drew a tiny flower on his wrist, before returning her attention to Professor. It took him a while to find out what exactly she drew with so neat lines. It looked like an iris or daffodil, he couldn't tell exactly and she didn't know either. But after that she became flower. His flower.

And now George is sitting in the library. He came here to at least start an essay on Potions. Snape become ruthless lately, so it was easier to work in a group on this 5-page assignment about Golpalott's Third Law. That's how he, Y/N, Fred, and Lee ended up in the library. George knew that this was one of her favorite places at Hogwarts. Two and a half hours earlier, when they had passed Madam Pince's stern gaze, he almost unconsciously walked to her favorite table, between the Poetry and Reference sections.

George's re-reading the same sentence in the book for the seventh time. There's something about the idea that a whole product is greater than the sum of its parts, but he can't really understand its meaning because he's thinking about her. It would be more accurate to say that he's thinking about what Lee and Fred had said about her. The evening before, his twin, the only person in this world who was closer to George than Y/N, again claimed that his love was mutual. Fred constantly tried to push him to confess his feelings. His argumentation was always the same. Fred said that he’s older, which means wiser, and he sees everything, how she steals glances at his little shy brother in classes and how she blushes just as much when George is near. But that evening, Lee has added some new information, which George still tries to process and connects with everything else these two have been telling him through the years.

George returns to yesterday in his thoughts. He was lying on his bed again, hopelessly pressing his face into the soft fabric of the pillow, while these two opened the Pandora's box again. Sometimes it seemed to George that they were enjoying this ranting about his 'unrequited' love situation over and over again.

"Ok, look, if she felt nothing but platonic stuff, she'd not be this frustrated when she found out about you and Jane" Lee spoke in a devious voice, getting more comfortable on his bed.

"Wasn't it Jade?" Fred's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Doesn't matter, I mean this Hufflepuff blondie with the ribbon"

"She's Janis" George sighed. He remembered this relationship, which lasted just over a month or so. Janis was nice, but she talked a bit too much. And this black ribbon, which she constantly wore as a headband, pissed him off. He admitted that the ribbon matched well with her uniform and emphasized the brightness of her hair. But something was wrong with it.

"I thought she was Jade"

"Anyway, why are you telling me about this now?" curiosity and a slight note of annoyance were noticeable in George's voice "It was quite a long ago."

"Look, mate. I'm your friend, right?" Lee sat down, crossed his legs, and the blanket crumpled under his weight. One more movement and the red piece of cloth would end up on the floor. "But I'm her friend as well. She knows that I know. And knows that I overheard that conversation of hers. And I promised, I won't blab it to you…But as it turns out, I'm not the best secret keeper and I'm more of a friend to you than to Y/N"

To tell the truth, Lee was a great secret keeper. Just like he was a great friend. This made George seriously wonder why Lee broke the promise. And so unceremoniously 'blabbed' everything to him. What if he's really as blind as he was told and doesn't see obvious things. He doesn't deny the possibility that she liked him too. More precisely, he doesn't want to deny it. He hopes that Y/N also feels something that crosses the boundaries of friendship. Even if her feelings aren't as strong and all-consuming as his. As if time collapses into one tiny speck and explodes at light speed every time George sees her. He hopes for at least something, for at least a tiny feeling, a tiny sparkle in her heart that flares up at the sight of the tall redhead.

Many times he imagined and replayed in his head the moment he would confess his feelings. Tell her how all the sounds around become quiet when he hears her laugh, how each and every touch imprints and burns on his skin. He dreamed, how he would tell how much he loved her, that he could finally be honest and reveal everything that was in his head and heart.

But the younger twin thinks the stakes are too high. And maybe he's right because she thinks the same thing to herself. Even though George wants more, he doesn't want to risk everything he has right now. His eyes begin to water and a lump rises in his throat every time he assumes he could lose Y/N. His flower. He knows her too well to predict what would happen next if his feelings weren't mutual. Their communication will become awkward, they both will be cautious and afraid of saying or doing something wrong. And then, after some time of this weird communication, their connection will fade away. And even if his love is mutual, what if he and Y/N don’t work out as a couple? What then?

He can't let their previous and future years of friendship go down the drain. Y/N was the first person he and Fred met on the Hogwarts Express. And from the very first year and the very first greeting, the three of them became inseparable. Always together.

She wanted to be a prefect, so she avoided detentions and tried not to get involved in their pranks directly. But Y/N was always there, helped to plan each of their mischiefs, assisted with new inventions, and saved him and his brother from professors. George can't remember how many times she rescued them from Filch while she was patrolling the corridors. He was so proud of her last year when she finally received this little silver pin that gave her extra authority and responsibilities.

George can't imagine Christmas without Y/N now. She visits the Burrow every year and his mom adores her. Perhaps because Y/N helps with cooking more than anyone else in this house. But George can imagine in detail how hard his mother would scold him if he suddenly announce that Y/N won't come for winter break this year because he's an idiot and they stopped talking to each other.

It's not Christmas without having a snowball fight with her and Fred in the backyard. At some point, she always tries to throw Fred into the snow. But due to the obvious height difference and Fred's strength privilege, she never succeeds in this. So she's becoming the one who's giggling on the ground, covered with snow. George always laughs at this little performance while his very kind twin scatters her down with even more snow.

George's envious of his brother in some way. Fred has never seen Y/N as more than a friend or a second sister. He's envious that his twin's heart doesn't ache as much as his does. And his older brother doesn't have to make such a difficult decision. No, George doesn't wish his brother pain. No way. He just doesn't want to suffer himself. George understands, that he's not just at risk of losing her, but also at risk of depriving Fred of his best friend too. If he and Y/N don't work out, what will happen to her friendship with Fred? Yes, perhaps they will be able to maintain some thread of communication. But they certainly won’t be best friends like they are now. George wouldn't handle it. He believes that it's better to be content with the small moments he has than to lose everything.

"Where are you going?" Fred's question snaps the younger twin out of his thoughts. He's still in the library and didn’t even notice how the chair next to him became empty, as Y/N headed towards one of the sections.

“I need this book, about…” her words meet Fred's raised eyebrows "I just need another book"

A quiet “uh-huh,” sounds either from Fred or Lee as her back is already hidden between the shelves full of colorful covers.

George looks for a while longer after Y/N. If someone raised their head from studies or books and glanced at the redhead, they would see the gears turning in his head.

“I…” George moves away from the table. Legs of the chair slide across the floor with a quiet rustle. He tries to come up with some kind of a reason, but Lee is faster.

“We got it, loverboy in shining armor, go already and help your princess” In response George groanes, and a quiet "fuck off" slips from his lips as he heads after his 'princess'. He doesn't know why he decided to follow Y/N. He just wants to. Perhaps he simply feels calmer when she's around, she gives him a feeling of warmth and home just by being near.

And there she is, just three bookshelves away. George can understand why she likes spending time in the library, although he doesn't share this sympathy. It's quiet and peaceful here. High ceilings, impressive columns, and alive stained glass windows are throughout Hogwarts, but they look especially charming in this place. Perhaps it's the specific lighting or the huge number of cabinets filled with old parchment and colored bindings. And, to be honest, he likes the smell of books. There is something about that scent that the redhead can't explain.

Y/N walks along the shelf at the end of the bookrack. Her gaze runs along the top row of colored spines, searching for what she needs. Her hair is up in a messy, almost domestic, bun and secured with a wand. But some strands fell down, framing her face and descending down her neck. The tie hangs loosely around her neck. She undid it after half an hour in the library.

George just stands there and admires her for a while, unable to tear his gaze away. It seems to him as if a soft golden glow surrounds each curve of her glorious body. And this light calls him to come closer. None of the other girls looked like her in his eyes. He swallows, breaks out of this perfect trance, and quietly heads to her.

The girl stands on the very tips of her black shiny shoes. Her fingers almost touch that very book on the top shelf. "Why the hell do they always shove the most useful stuff so far away?" Y/N thinks to herself before long fingers touch the cover of the "Ingredient Encyclopedia". She sees as right above her head a familiar freckled hand takes the faded green binding from its place.

"You're welcome, flower" Y/N turns around at the sound of the voice and finds herself trapped between the worn books and George.

The corners of his lips lift slightly and the younger twin can feel the warmth approaching his cheeks. He can't control it and, to be honest, he doesn't care when she's only millimeters away.

Her "Thank you" is so quiet that George isn't sure she actually said it. Their eyes meet, and it seems to redhead that everything that happened next was in slow motion.

She just wanted to take the book. Such an innocent action. She inhales sharply as her fingertips accidentally brush his hand. He feels high-voltage sparks come from this touch and spread further throughout his whole body and explode where his heart is.

They both froze, not breathing and not breaking an eye contact. George could swear he was ready to give everything he had to live in this moment forever. Just standing next to her in an empty section of the Hogwarts library. Looking into her eyes, losing himself in their depths. And feel the warmth radiating from her hand on his.

Earlier, he thought he'd be nervous at a moment like this but he isn't. He just stares at her eyes, then at her parted lips. "George, don’t do it" he repeats to himself. His fingers shudder imperceptibly with the thought of taking her wand from messy hair, so her locks would fall freely on her fragile shoulders. "Control yourself". He's trying, so damn hard trying not to bury his hands into these shiny strands and pull her into a kiss. It takes all his strength not to. And George doesn't know what happened. Was it Y/N's rosy blush and his brother's words about mutuality flashing through his head. Was it her, standing so close that he could smell his amortentia coming from the girl.

But he gives up. George bends down, without even thinking about it, and presses his lips to hers

George pulls away even faster than he has leaned toward her. There is exposed fear in his widely opened eyes. Eyebrows are raised as the realization crushes his thoughts. His mouth opens and closes without making any sound. It seems that he's more shocked by his own action than Y/N herself.

He fucked up. He knows it.

Y\N stands there still. And this is the first time in the redhead's life that he can't read the emotions of his best friend. "Ingredient Encyclopedia" is still in her palm, but George abruptly pulls his hand away, losing all the warmth she provided to him.

"I'm…I'm sorry" is the only thing he mumbles before storming away from the book section, from the library, from her.

George almost knocks down a first-year with a blue tie when he rushes out around the corner. He fucked up. Y/N didn’t respond to his kiss, she didn’t react at all. She just froze in place. George doesn't understand how he could let himself do this. He shouldn't have. He heads towards the huge wooden door with such speed that some students' parchments fly off their desks. He doesn't notice this, nor the questions from Fred and Lee, that meet his broad back, nor the comments of the furious Madam Pince.

She appears around the corner shortly after George, calling his name. She throws the book on the table and quickly walks past her friends. The faded green binding slides across the wooden surface and lands near Lee's inkpot. Another millimeter and the small glass jar would have been knocked down and poured a black liquid onto the pieces of parchment, only half written with essay.

"For Merlin's sake, what is going on?"

“I'll bet you a galleon that George confessed to her and ran away” Fred speaks with a sly grin, shifting his gaze from the hurrying Y/N to his dormmate.

"Too much drama for these two, don't you think?"

"So…?"

"You're on" Lee agrees, moving the book away from his writings. He only managed to write the introduction and the beginning of the first few theses. It was far from 5 pages but it was at least something and definitely more than George wrote.

George walks through the library entrance. He feels like everything is crumbling inside him as he walks. The sound of his heart pounding in the ears muffles the voice calling his name somewhere behind the back.

"George!…"

He is supposed to be happy. He finally did what he had dreamed of for many years. He finally kissed the girl he was so hopelessly in love with. But instead, he feels as if a dozen Dementors attacked him. All of the hope and happiness have been sucked out of the world.

"George!…"

He'd better get away from here as fast as possible. He'd explain himself later. He'd better get to his safe space. But where should he go if he felt safe only next to her?

"George!….for Merlin's sake!….. I can't keep up with you!"

He recalls everything in his head, from what happened a minute ago to the first time he saw Y\N. He understands that all those happy moments, the tenderness, the memories they both made and the plans for the future, are all gone. He's so disappointed and so angry with himself.

"George!…"

"What?!" He stops and turns around, seeing the girl almost running along the empty corridor of Hogwarts, approaching him.

George heard her calling him. But he's not ready to face the consequences. Not now. He needs time to pull himself back together and come up with something. But he gives up. Again.

"What do you wanna hear, Y|N?!" His hands shoot up in a questioning gesture. "That I'm head over heels in love with you? With your damn perfect hair and damn marvelous eyes! With your damn angelic laughter, which drowns out all other sounds for me! And I even with the way your brows frown when you're concentrated!"

"Georgie…" He doesn't seem to notice her soft voice but continues. She wants to say something, but his confession is unstoppable. And she understands this, so she decides to just let him rant.

"Or do you wanna hear that you became a fixed point in my mind where my thoughts always come back to? That I randomly grin to myself like an idiot when I think about anything related to you. I don't know when exactly I fell for you. But it feels like I've always loved you. You're doing something to me, no one else ever could. You make me feel special and not just another poor Weasley or the second clown of Hogwarts. Every damn time you make me feel important because of who I am and not because I'm the beater or I'm the easiest way to get to Fred." His voice became calmer with each sentence. The irritated raised tone turns into his normal deep timbre, and then it will turn into a soft mumbling. " And you make all of my anxiety and worries turn off just by your presence. I was so fucking angry with myself and you did something I dunno how to explain. So now I can't be this angry. And you are…you are just….you"

She stands next to him. Almost as close as it was back then in the library. Perhaps if George wasn't so nervous, he'd realize that he liked the scent of books because it was her scent. Every time she left the library after spending several hours there, she had this slightest scent on her. It mixed with her perfume and shampoo, so it was impossible to separate and difficult to notice it.

"Are you done?" George doesn't know what to do and just nods his ginger head. Then she rises on her tiptoes and neat fingers finds the collar of his white shirt and pulls it towards her, forcing George to lean forward. Her lips touch his. Again. Only for a few seconds but this makes him blush even more, if it's possible. His freckles aren't this noticeable anymore.

The girl pulls away, the heels of her shoes meet the cold floor and her hands slide onto George's chest. But he continues to stand slightly bent forward, batting his eyelashes. She still has to lift her head slightly to look him in the eyes. In the future, this height difference will piss her off sometimes, but he'll enjoy it endlessly, liking this even more every time.

George stares deeply into her eyes, trying to understand what just happened. But he feels that he can breathe again. And somewhere inside, where his soul is, irises and daffodils and all the other flowers start to blossom slowly. Did she really kiss him? But earlier…

"But you've…." His eyebrows furrow as the puzzles are slowly coming together in his head.

"I was taken by surprise" She explains as she watches his face soften, lips rise into a wide grin that he can't stop. And why the hell should he stop it. "And you didn't give me time to understand what's going on"

George covers her hand with his own. That hand that's laying so peacefully on his rapidly beating heart.

“Sorry,” he chuckles, millimeters from her face. She can feel his breath on her lips, like a ghost kiss, dragging the moment before he crushes his lips down on hers into another real one.

Her lips are soft, almost silken, and pillowy against his own. This kiss is not just a peck, like the previous ones. This time George can understand that her lips are not exactly what he thought. Her lips feel thousands of times better than he could ever imagine. He finally feels relieve and all the world's happiness. All the happiness he supposed to feel. Happiness, that had been accumulating for a long time and didn't leave the palace of his dreams, Finally to escape to freedom. His palms find their place around her waist as he pulls her closer, forcing their bodies to collapse into each other, holding each other as tightly as humanly possible. Her hands shoot up to his hair, slowly letting her fingers slip into ginger strands. He kisses Y/N like he has never kissed anyone else before. With all the tenderness and love he has kept locked in his heart till this moment. George doesn’t see this, but he feels how the gray world around him is filled with colors again. The warmth spreads all over his body and his brain stops working properly.

This girl, this bright and breathtaking girl, is his. Their lips moved softly, delicately, and almost innocently before. But Y/N is driving him insane and intoxicate him with the sweet smell of her body. He can feel her hand slide to his nape and she lightly runs fingers up along his neck. Tiny soft moans escape his lips in the surprise of the goosebumps this action sent down his body. As a response, George brings up his freckled hands to cup her face. His calloused fingers caress her flushed cheeks as he nibbles her lower lip, not so hard to hurt, but enough for Y/N to feel it. Now it's her turn to let out a small, barely audible moan, which makes him break out into a shit-eating grin.

The girl gently pulls away, while George still holds her face in his warm hands.

"I love you too, Georgie. And your damn perfect hair and damn marvelous eyes"

Bonus:

He lets out a giggle caused by quoting. He's unable to open his eyes for a few moments after this kiss, a huge smile on his face

"But…"

"But…?" The question sounds teasing even though his voice is hoarse.

"We have an essay to finish. It's due tomorrow, and you haven't even written a sentence yet." she wrinkles her nose in a taunting way.

"Nooooo" Redhead lets out a groan, throwing his head back. "Don't make me do this, Flower"

"I won't write it for you" She kisses his pouty lips as a response to the puppy gaze he gave her. Y/N frees herself from his cozy grip and heads towards the library. "You'd better write at least something unless you prefer scrubbing cauldron instead of…let's say…sneaking into Hogsmeade."

George catches up with her a couple of seconds later. He slightly leans down just for a moment to catch her hand in his and intertwine their fingers.

"Y/N…." he tries this 'puppy gaze trick' again.

"Fine." She sighs in defeat "I will help you with a plan and theses, but you will write it yourself."

George breaks into a smile once again and brings her hand to his lips, leaving kisses on her knuckles. Well, the thesis for Someone's Third Law is at least something. Plus, he’s sure that he’s sure Y/N will write his essay as soon as she finishes hers. And, to be honest, Fred's too.

After some time, when they are a meter from the huge wooden door, George suddenly wonders.

"Galleons or Sickles?"

"What?"

"Galleons or Sickles?" He repeats, opening the door in front of Y/N

"Wait, you're wondering how much they bet on us, aren't you?"

George overtakes the girl, ending up in front of her, and leans down so that their eyes are at the same level. He shoves his hands into pockets and wrinkles his nose therefore mocking Y/N's previous actions.

"I'll bet a Galleon that Lee owes Fred a Galleon"

masterpost

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cherryslyce · 1 year

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Second Son (Epilogue) | Regulus Black

Series Synopsis: Forbidden from contacting Harry over the summer, you opt to explore the eerie halls of Grimmauld Place where you stumble upon a lonely portrait of the House's second son.

— Chapter Synopsis: The new era. The end of one chapter, and the beginning of another.

Part XIX / Series Masterlist

Pairing: Regulus Black x GN!Reader

Notes: Thank you all so much.

You peer out of the fenestrated walls, eyes glazing over the faint swinging of wooden signs and veranda covers. The ambience around you swirls like a sheer veil as you lean back into your seat, sighing out blissfully as your cooling charm beats with fervor, shielding you from the blistering heat of the summer day.

Dragging your eyes away from the bright view, you run your finger along the thick cardstock in front of you. The blocky letters begin to fade into the background of snowy mountain caps and faded waterfalls as you continue to trace your eyes over it.

‘Greetings from OREGON’

You flip the postcard over and swipe a finger across the swirly letters.

‘Hope you’re well, kid. - A. Fiske’

A sudden thudding noise echoes across from you, and you slowly shift to sit straight as your eyes drag themselves away from the letters. You tilt your head with a coy smile as your companion leans back to get comfortable, evidently miffed by the unrelenting heat waves.

“Good to see you, B.” You smile saccharinely, fingers dancing along the chilled cup in front of you.

Blaise rolls his eyes and places his own drink down on the table—iced americano, simple, bitter, and everything that Blaise wasn’t. You would never understand his fascination with the drink. He huffs before smiling sarcastically at you, “Yes, how long has it been? Two days?”

“Don’t whine, it’s unbecoming.” You mutter playfully, twirling your straw around the rim of your cup.

“Merlin, you’re even starting to sound like her. Really, no wonder mother finds you so endearing.” He tuts as he throws his elbow back to rest on the back of his chair.

You chuckle and shake your head, “Okay, let’s digress then.” You lean forward and cross your legs, “How is Draco doing? Theo is irritatingly uninformed on the topic.”

“He’s alright, thanks to you and Potter anyway. His father might not be facing a long sentence, but many of the elected Wizengamot heads are shifty even with your statements. Lucius Malfoy has been a slippery eel for a few years too long.” He hums, face unflinching as he sips on his potent drink, “How the mighty have fallen so.”

Nodding, your voice drops lower as you survey the rest of the cafe, “Azkaban will still do a number on him even with a lighter sentence. Narcissa is worried.”

“As she should be,” he replies curtly, “and speaking of Azkaban, how is Lord Black nowadays? He’s become quite the hermit. Is he faring well?”

You sigh and rub your chin, “Yeah, he’s just been busy with remodeling. He’s still quite miffed that Reggie and I decided to move out.”

“At least he has Potter with him.” Blaise supplies, eyes darkening in rumination at the mention of Regulus. He levels you with inquisitive eyes, “Before I forget, what should I send over?”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you hum, “How do you mean?”

“Your house warming gift, daft one.” He rolls his eyes lightly.

“Just bring your lovely self.” You huff out.

Blaise crosses an ankle over his knee, “A vase then.”

“If it clashes with the aesthetic then I’m tossing it into the basement.” You warn jokingly, smiling widely at your friend.

He shakes his head with a muffled chuckle, “No worries. Anyways, you still need to unpack, right? Need any help?”

“Oh? Work not keeping you busy enough?” You rest back against your chair, head bleeding with thoughts about how taxing work has been in the past few months with the Ministry trying to dial the reconstruction process to an inconceivable pace.

Blaise groans at the reminder, taking a long sip of his drink, “Merlin, they should rename the whole Department! Department of International Magical Cooperation? What a joke, all they do is sit in an oval and squabble.”

You throw your head back to laugh, a feathery light bubble of relief expanding in your chest. It was mind-boggling to think that not even a year ago you were all fighting for your lives, and now the same backdrop of fear that followed everyone around for so many years had disintegrated. People strided through halls and streets with lifted shoulders and bright eyes, war-hardened, but jovial as their burdens gave way.

Blaise had worked his way up the Department of International Magical Cooperation, often leaving meetings with a sharp migraine and dwindling hope in the frequency of common sense. Theodore was faring well, now a highly revered Unspeakable for the Time Branch, all made possible with his swift denouncement of his father. Draco was the more withdrawn one out of the three, but you held out hope for him, having corresponded with him over his budding fascination for Alchemy.

You found that your new friends were on your mind often, and you were endlessly grateful to them as they took Regulus’ reintegration into society with stride, often giving you advice on how to politely tell inquisitive reporters to bugger off. Meetings with them were slowly becoming a rarity as all of you became engrossed in work, but your friendships remained resolute as you all quickly became each other’s closest confidants.

Luna wrote to you often, and you sent her trinkets and snacks by the dozen, finding yourself constantly worried that others would mistreat the girl with the absence of your friend group. Luckily, the girl found a friend in Ginny, and you were looking forward to reuniting with her during her Summer Break.

Harry and Ron were inducted into the Auror ranks by Shacklebolt only a few weeks after the war. You had your reservations about their decision to jump into such a high-risk job, the stench of carnage and battle throbbing like an open wound, but they insisted that they would never be able to focus enough to finish school.

On the opposite side of that sentiment, there was Hermione. She had quickly delved back into Hogwarts’ curriculum amidst its reconstruction, and was now looking to you with hopeful words about beginning her own sabbatical.

You had published your research under both yours and Regulus’ name, omitting information about Regulus’ discovery of sentient portraits as a precaution for the future.

You both respected Anders’ wish to leave his name off the cover and the research, but he failed to warn you against leaving his name anywhere else, so simply on the first page of your book, you dedicated the findings to him and Asger with a simple ‘For A. & A. Fiske.’

The research was groundbreaking, to say the least. You wouldn’t be able to forget the swaths of letters and documents from the Ministry, and one very heated missive to you from Blaise about how he was even more swamped with work, many foreign countries reaching out to inquire about the findings.

It all paid off though, the royalties you and Regulus got would sustain you both for the rest of your humble lives, and the boost on your portfolio made getting a job in the Department of Mysteries a cakewalk.

Once the sun rolled across the cloudless sky, the singing blues morphing to hues of pinks and purples, you bid your friend goodbye, wishing him luck with work and promising to gather with the rest of your friends the following week.

You were certain that apparition was the most useful skill you had in your toolbelt, and you couldn’t fathom how you managed to survive the majority of your life without such a feat. As your shoes pad against the pavement, the bristling of leaves skidding around you, you let out a content sigh as you approach your destination.

It was the closest thing you had to home for so long, and it still felt like safety and comfort despite the sudden heaviness of your own house keys in your pocket. As you pop the door open, head peeking around the heavy wood, your face lights up as a figure comes into view.

“You’re home!” You exclaim excitedly, stepping inside with a wide grin.

Harry approaches you and gives you a fleeting hug, hand raising to adjust his glasses as he pulls back, “Yeah, Tonks let me off early. How was your meeting with Blaise?”

“Good,” you draw out suspiciously, eyes narrowing as you both pace through the dim walkway, “how’d you know about that?”

“Regulus.” He answers simply, eyebrows raising in tease as you huff.

You both cross into the threshold of the kitchen, stopping in your tracks as you see countless manuals splayed across the wide berth of the table. Regulus and Sirius are both hunched over in their seats, flipping furiously through the catalogues.

“Some light reading, Sirius?” Your voice rings out playfully, body already moving towards your squinting boyfriend. Both men shoot up from their positions and blink owlishly at you and Harry, the sea of papers long forgotten.

“Furniture shopping, pup!” Sirius replies with a tired grin as he stretches his arms over his head.

Regulus rises from his chair and meets you halfway, arms wrapping securely around your body as he burrows his face into the crook of your neck. A few more moments pass by before he cranes back and blinks slowly at you, “Birdie.”

You run a hand through his curls and smile lightly, “Love.”

Regulus keeps you secure to him as he moves to drop back down into his seat, leaning his head against your stomach as you remain standing. Your eyes drop down to look at the varying bleak images on the shining white pages.

Raising your eyebrows, your eyes drift around an image of a steep bookshelf with two glass doors, “Is this for us or Sirius?”

Sirius leans back in his seat and rubs the bridge of his nose, “Your place. Reggie helped me pick out a few pieces earlier.”

Your eyes wander around the aged cabinets and drabby wallpaper, trying to envision the space in a remodeled visual, one that would be Sirius-esque rather than screaming of cobwebs and medieval torture. You smile minutely before reaching a hand out across the table, bringing your other hand to card through Regulus’ hair as you mutter quietly to the tired man across from you, “I’m happy for you, Sirius.”

The man reciprocates your smile and clasps his hand in yours, “Thank you, pup. I’m happy for you too,” he huffs and glances at Regulus, who remained immobile against your stomach, “the both of you.”

The tender moment continues for a few more beats before Harry slowly leans on the seat next to Sirius’, eyes scrutinizing a forgotten pile of booklets off to the older man’s left, “Sirius, where are we going to put a lion table?”

You snort out a muffled laugh as the man swivels over to his godson with beaming eyes, knowing that Harry would be whining to you later about Sirius’ ineptitude at interior decorating.

“You should start cleaning up, Remus will be here soon for dinner.” You murmur with a pointed look at the trio.

As the final outlines of the sun slinks away in the horizon, you and Regulus bid farewell to the occupants of Grimmauld Place, intent on spending the rest of the night in your home. It was fortunate that Regulus had managed to set up the floo network to your home only a matter of days before, and the journey back left little room for complaints as the green flames dragged away from your vision.

You step out into the darkness of your study room, ears perking imperceptibly when the network flares again as Regulus joins you. The twilight sky filters into your home, dimly illuminating the barren room.

“We’re home.” You mutter with a content smile.

Regulus slowly pads towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he sways you both. Your eyes are drawn to the French casement windows behind the desk, getting lost in the sight of the dancing flower field.

“Shall we head to the cliff, birdie?” Regulus muses, eyes following your gaze as he drifts into rumination.

You nod and reluctantly step forward, pivoting on your heel and dropping a hand onto Regulus’ arm, “I’ll meet you at the front? I need to drop off a few things in the bedroom.”

“Of course, baby.” He leans over to capture your lips in a soft kiss, hands dropping to your hips as he lightly grips onto you.

Humming against his lips, you slowly pull back and rub a thumb across his cheek, “I’ll be quick, promise.”

He pecks your lips again and gives you one last squeeze before he slowly backs away, shooting you a warm smile as he makes his way to the entryway. You retreat from the study room soon after, making a sharp right turn as you pace towards your shared bedroom.

Regulus had been the one to bring up the idea of getting a beach house, assuring you that he was unsettled by still water and not turbulent waves. It was a quaint building, one that sprouted into the center of a lustrous flower garden, and you both knew it was the one when you toured it. Just a short walk away from the blooming fields, a precipitous cliffside broke away and loomed over a thick landing of sand, giving a small brief from the swaying waves

As you enter the lusterless room, you shed away your bag and walk towards your bedside table, propping the Oregon postcard against your lamp. Atop the same white bedside table sat Regulus’ old golden frame, now whole and without trace of ever having been shattered. Under the frame, the folded piece of paper that Regulus had given you the night after you bought the property peeked out.

You grasp both items in your hands, and smile lightly as an idea formulates in your head.

“Kreacher!” You call lightly.

The house-elf pops into the bedroom with a curious frown, teetering towards you as you extend the items out. You fish out your wand as Kreacher grabs the frame, muttering a faint engorgio at the rectangular object. The frame wobbles in the elf’s grasp before slowly stretching to nearly thrice its original size.

“Could you possibly frame this note for me? Maybe above the headboard?” You request with a small smile.

“Kreacher will do that.” The house elf nods and begins to fiddle with the frame.

Your eyes run across the note one more time before you hand the slip to the elf, making your way out to Regulus with a fleeting farewell. The boy has a jacket slung over his arm as he waits for you by the door, carding his hair back as a flicker of joy flashes through his eyes when you appear in his line of sight.

“All ready?” He murmurs once you reach him.

“More than ready.” You reply with a hum, leaning to peck his cheek.

The trek towards the cliffside passes by in the blink of an eye, and you’re left with butterflies in your stomach as Regulus picks several tulips for you along the way. By the time you’re close enough to the ocean to hear the crashing of waves, you are left to huddle close to Regulus for warmth.

The sky begins to darken above you, but you give no protest when Regulus drags you to sit down on the ground. He peers up at the sky above him, eyes tracing across the faint twinkles of the approaching stars.

You bring a hand to trace his chest as you do the same, cradling the flowers to your side as you begin to sift through the reel of memories in your head.

“I love you, birdie.” Regulus whispers into the air, his arm moving to rest on your waist.

You smile widely and press your face into the crook of his neck, “I love you.”

And as you both laid under the stitches of glowing stars, sharing tiny whispers and shielding each other from the brutal winds, back in your home, Kreacher makes the last adjustments to the new wall decor.

Kreacher mutely assesses the space as he backs out, the elf’s head full of future possibilities.

It was peaceful. After so many years, he felt at peace.

The door closes with a faint click just as the stars peek through the bedroom window, reflecting off the glowing frame. The swirls of inks encapsulated in the shining beams dance amongst the canvas of the wall.

‘29 October, 1979

I wonder what being in love feels like.

26 April, 1999

Love is like flying freely from the inhibitions of your burdens, where your person is your wings, your eyes, and your heart; you soar freely with the knowledge that they will carry you above the storms of doubt. I no longer wonder because now I know.’

Fin.

tag list: @krazyk99 @venomsvl @valsarchives @bunny24sstuff @novella12nite @elia-the-bibliophile @txorua @xlifexdeathx @trikigirl271 @the-marauders-world @sleepydang @blueberry-thrawn @lestat-whore @chanaaaannel @clockworkherondale @peachyaeger @thegayhoenextdoor @l--absinthe @ok-boke @summer-noir @mikeikax @musically-ambiguous @dittos-blog-dylanobrien @friendly-neighborhood-boricua @randomfaeriechild @misacc08 @that-bitch-bri @littleshadow17 @chocochannie @bl4stonesc @shari-berri @mrs-billyrussooo @pandemicboredom @gojosbucket @brain-has-left @googie-jeon @lovely-maryj @lokifriggason1 @aloramalfoy @godmitski @justanotherkpopstanlol @hpboysslut2707 @coffeehurricanes

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lobey-scribbles · 1 year

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Playing Dumb - Fred Weasley X F!Reader

summary: Fred Weasley has always had his eye on you and when Professor Flitwick sits you next to each other in Charms, he can hardly believe his luck. In a desperate attempt to get close to you, Fred decides to play dumb in Charms class.

word count: 1.1k

themes: just fluff

warnings: none

a/n: happy birthday to gred and feorge! might do a part 2!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

Fred Weasley stumbled into Charms class, out of breath and dishevelled. It turns out that despite staying up all night with George and wandering the castle with the marauder's map being one of his favourite activities, it didn't exactly mesh well with being a punctual student. Professor Flitwick paused his lesson, and gave one of those Fred-Weasley weary sighs, “Late again, I see, Fred.” he said in his usual squeaky voice.

“Very sorry, Professor,” Fred replied, giving Professor Flitwick the most apologetic smile he could muster. Before Fred could make his way to his seat, he stopped dead in his tracks. Peering around the room, he realised that Lee Jordan was no longer sitting in his usual seat. Instead, he sat next to a Slytherin student, Miles Bletchley, and was giving no effort to hide how miserable he was about it. Had Fred not been so devastated about being moved away from Lee, he would have found his predicament rather hilarious, but now he needed to figure out where he was sitting.

“Oh, Fred, can you please go sit next to miss Y/N L/N please?” said Professor Flitwick, noting the bemusement on Fred’s face. “Maybe you'll finally get some work done,” he muttered to himself under his breath before he resumed his lesson.

Fred Weasley scanned the room for his empty seat, his stomach lurching ever so slightly when his eyes landed on you.

Fred sauntered over to the empty seat next to you, determinedly ignoring the way his heart began to race in his chest. He’d noticed you in the corridor before, but he'd never had the chance to speak to you. Now, he was sitting right next to you in class, and he was determined to make the most of it.

“Hey there,” Fred said, flashing you a grin. “I'm Fred. Nice to meet you.”

You looked up at him, gave him a small smile and introduced yourself, but you didn't seem very talkative.

He really couldn't explain it, but you being as shy and reserved as you were, only made Fred’s need to be closer to you even stronger.

Fred tried to strike up a conversation, cracking a few jokes here and there, and making light of Lee’s unfortunate new seat in class. “Well, Y/N, I hope you feel lucky to be sitting next to me now instead of poor Lee. He's stuck with Bletchley, you know.” he chuckled, desperately trying to get a laugh out of you. Instead, you just gave him a polite nod and turned your attention back to Professor Flitwick.

As the class progressed, Fred tried his best to focus on the lesson and keep his eyes firmly on the textbook in front of him, and Merlin’s beard, was it impossible! It seems like no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't help but steal a glance at you, admiring your unwavering concentration and the way your fingers twirled your hair absentmindedly.

Finally, the class came to an end, and Fred and Lee met up with George and strolled to the Great Hall together for break time, plonking themselves down at the Gryffindor table. Fred’s mind was still preoccupied with thoughts of you, barely noticing Lee’s rant about his new seat, only half-heartedly piping up to express his sympathies, agreeing that it was such a shame to be separated from his best friend. George noticed his brother’s distracted state and nudged him, “What about your seat, Fredster?”

“Don’t call me Fredster!” he snapped, kicking George underneath the table, and then continuing as though he couldn't hear his brother yelp out in pain and a howl of laughter from Lee, his violent reaction being less to do with the stupid nickname and more to do with the fact that George had interrupted his daydreaming.

“Not too bad, I suppose,” appearing as nonchalant as he could about the whole thing, acting as if his stomach didn't perform backflips at the very thought of being beside you.

As the weeks went on, Fred persisted in trying to tempt you out of your shell. Fred wasn’t bad at charms by any means. In fact, he'd probably be great at if he put in the same amount of effort as he did with wreaking havoc amongst the castle. Yet, he took every opportunity he could to ask you questions in Charm class, acting as though he were struggling to get you to help him. You'd give him a look and scold him for not listening properly, turning to help him, and as you did so, your leg would brush his and a jolt of electricity would shoot through his entire body.

In the Charms class that followed, Professor Flitwick had the whole class on their feet, practising a bubble-head charm. Fred fumbled with his wand, making a complete pig’s ear of the movement, purposefully of course, and cried out in frustration, “What the bloody hell am I even doing wrong?”, his eyes darted quickly over to you to make sure you had heard him.

You rolled your eyes at him, walking over to his side, “Let me help you, Fred” and you placed your hand on top of his. If brushing your leg against his made Fred nervous, it was seriously nothing compared to how the touch of your hand on his made him feel. You directed his hand, mimicking the correct wand movement. “See, like this.”

“O-oh yes, I get it now, thank you.” he stammered, swiftly pulling his hand away from yours as if he'd just touched something scorching. He prayed that you didn't notice how hot and bothered he was and desperately tried to regain his composure.

As you were all packing up for the end of class, Fred asked Lee to wait up for him outside. Then, he turned to you sheepishly, scratching at the back of his neck and asked, “I’m sure it's no secret to you by now how hopeless I am at Charms.”

“Oh, well you're not really-”

“Don’t sugarcoat it, Y/N, I'm a mess.”

You giggled, making Fred’s heart soar, he might get addicted to hearing you laugh, especially when it's because of him.

“So, with that in mind, do you think you would mind tutoring me in Charms? I completely understand if you're busy-”

“Oh, no I'm not busy at all!” you interjected, eagerly, “Of course, I’ll tutor you, Fred!” you smiled at him kindly, “Does next week sound good?”

“Yes, that's brilliant, thank you!” unable to hide the elation in his voice, “You’re amazing, you are. I owe you my life, seriously, Professor Flitwick glares at me as if my days are numbered,” drawing out another one of your melodic laughs.

Fred bid you farewell and walked out of the classroom with an undeniable spring in his step, and a goofy smile plastered across his face.

Fred stepped out into the corridor, unable to shake the giddy feeling that lingered from his conversation with you. He spotted Lee leaning against the wall, waiting for him.

“Hey, Lee!” Fred greeted his friend enthusiastically as he walked towards him.

Lee raised an eyebrow, “Don’t know what you’re so cheery about, mate, we've got Snape next.”

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x fem!reader #harry potter fandom #wizarding world #fred weasley being an idiot #harry potter fanfiction #fred weasley oneshot #fred weasley fanfiction #the weasley twins #hp fandom #fred weasley #happy birthday to fred and george weasley #happy birthday fred and george weasley

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myloveharry · 8 months

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Fred: What if I press the brake and gas at the same time? George: The car takes a screenshot. Ginny: For the last time, get the fuck out.

#harry potter #incorrect harry potter quotes #hermione granger #ron weasley #harry potter jokes #harry potter memes #jokes #memes #incorrect hp quotes #ginny weasley #george weasley #fred weasley #the weasleys #the weasley twins #incorrect quotes

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fleursfairies · 9 months

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hbo series better not do the weasleys dirty or ima fight

#casting wise and story wise #the weasleys #ron weasley #ginny weasley #fred and george #fred and george weasley #the weasley twins #weasley twins #fred weasley #george weasley #percy weasley #bill weasley #charlie weasley #harry potter #romione #hinny

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blackbirdi · 2 months

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Harry Potter Incorrect Quotes #7

Ron: *Exhausted and laying on the floor* Why is there tile on the ceiling? Is that the floor? Am I glued to the ceiling again?

Harry and Hermione: ...Again?

The Weasley Twins: *Reminiscing* Ah, good times.

#incorrect quotes #harry potter incorrect quotes #incorrect harry potter quotes #golden trio era #golden trio #harry potter #hermione granger #ron weasley #fred weasley #george weasley #the weasley twins #the twins terrorizing ron is literally canon

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fandomnsfw · 10 months

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I Will Always See You - Fred Weasley x Reader

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Prompt: nothing…I just love Fred Weasley J.K did him dirty if you ask me…my poor baby. 😭

Warnings: smut, if you squint praise kink and begging kink.

Thank you to @lets-imagine-fanfics my beta for editing this thought I'm sure as an avid Fred Weasley fan she likely had no problem! 😂

********

You walked down the hall, your arms wrapped around your books as you silently made your way back to the Gryffindor common room. You were thinking about your Herbology homework listing off things you needed or would have to do when your felt a gust of wind at either side of you.

Your eyes immediately spotted the Weasley twins running so fast, the only reason you knew it was them was because of their vibrantly orange hair, you rolled your eyes and opened your mouth to shout at them but before you could, they skid to a stop and glanced behind them towards you.

“Boys no running in the halls.” You huffed as they gave you matching smirks.

“Oh, if it isn’t our favourite head girl.” Fred grinned mischievously as they began walking next to you.

“Don’t think because you compliment me, Fred Weasley, that I’ll forget that you were running in the halls.” You scoff as you held your head up.

“I’m not Fred I’m George.” He stated with a frown on his face.

You rolled your eyes and turned to the real George looking him up and down before giving him a smirk. He flushed a little under your scrutinising gaze but said nothing to give away their game.

“Nope, that’s definitely George.” You stated as you pat Georges flushed cheek before turning to Fred who glared down at you suspiciously.

“And you are most definitely Fred.” You chuckled as you pat his chest as he continued to glare at you.

You stride ahead of them with a satisfied smirk on your face as you quickly forget about your homework in favour of thinking about Fred. You’d be lying if you said the twins weren’t handsome but Fred for some reason held way more of your attention. George was sweeter, slightly more shy than Fred and he also had a mole on the side of his neck while at Fred had two scars on his face that were barely noticeable.

Fred was always more confident and always the one to instigate their pranks and mischief. It’s another reason you had a giant crush on Fred, not that anyone knew that with how you would constantly reprimand him for ignoring the rules.

You liked to keep to yourself for most part but you enjoyed hanging out with Harry and his friends even though you were in the Weasley twins year. You shook the thoughts of Fred to the back of your mind as you finally arrived at the portrait to the Gryffindor common room.

********

You giggled at something Hermione said to Ron as you nibbled on some toast with jam on it. Harry rolled his eyes at the pair about to reprimand his friends, however he was instantly interrupted when the Weasley twins slid into the small spaces at either side of you.

Your eyes flickered between both twins before noting they had their homemade sweaters from Molly. The only thing that wasn’t right was that Fred was wearing George’s and George was wearing Freds. You frowned a little but figured they must’ve done it by accident.

“Fred, mum said you need to send her a letter. Said she hasn’t heard from you in a few days.” Ron muttered to George making you roll your eyes a little however instead of Fred piping up George did and suddenly you realised their game.

“I will tonight.” George answered making you literally bang your head off of the table, narrowly avoiding your plate.

“What on earth are you doing?” Hermione snorted making you look up at them with a glare firmly in place.

“Ron, how can you not tell your brothers apart?” You laughed making him frown a little.

“There literally wearing their tops.” Ron snorted making you roll your eyes.

“That’s Fred.” You said pointing at the twin wearing the sweater with the G.

“How?” Fred exclaimed with a deep frown on his face, making you roll your eyes once again.

“Because I can. Why, pray tell, does it bother you so much?” You asked him seriously making him puff out his cheeks in a childish manner.

“Even our own mum gets confused sometimes, I don’t see how you can tell better than literally anyone.” Fred stated uneasily as his two brothers nodded in agreement.

“I’m sure someone else in this room can too.” You huffed with a small smile making them glance at one another.

“No. Even Ang almost kissed Fred last week.” George snorted making you visibly cringe a little before giving them a sympathetic smile.

You giggle a little as Hermione says something about Fred being a bigger arsehole making everyone burst out laughing. The rest of the day went by without anyone mentioning the fact that you could tell them apart better than anyone.

That was until you arrived at your bedroom to find Ginny and Hermione waiting there with raised brows and inquisitive looks. You frowned at the girls, silently asking why they were in your room.

“So which one is it?” Ginny asked with a subtle smirk on her lips.

“What on earth are you two talking about?” You snorted as you put your books on the bedside table next to your bed.

“Which twin do you fancy?” Hermione asked confidently making your eyes widen a little.

“W-What makes you think I fancy Fred or George?” You stuttered, heat slowly creeping up your face until you felt like steam was coming out your ears.

“Fred.” Ginny and Hermione say at the same time, looking father proud of themselves.

“I do-what I mean is that I- Fine, I fancy Fred!” You had tried to get out of it but honestly, you’d been dying to tell someone since you first started crushing on him in your 3rd year.

“Oh my Merlin, that feels amazing to get off my chest! God, I fancy the bloody pants off him! He’s so tall, handsome, funny, confident, did I say handsome? Then he’s got these eyes that are just so expressive. I can always tell when he’s about to do something that’ll get him in trouble because he gets these little creases at the corner of his gorgeous eyes, when he tries to keep the smile off his face. There was one time I accidentally saw him without hi-”

“Too much information!” Ginny yelled making you flush bright red.

“S-Sorry.” You whispered softly making her shake her head at you.

“How long has this been going on?” Hermione laughed as she raised her brows at you.

“3rd year.” You whispered avoiding all eye contact.

“That’s since my 1st year! I’m in my 5th year!” Hermione exclaimed like it was something you didn’t already know.

“I’m aware 4 years…god that’s so pathetic.” You sighed heavily as you flopped onto your bed face first.

“It’s not that bad.” She tries but you just lift your head to glare at her.

“Being a 17 year old girl who never kissed a guy let alone dated one isn’t embarrassing at all.” You laughed sarcastically as you flipped you head back down screaming into the pillow.

“You haven’t had your first kiss?” Ginny exclaimed making you roll over onto your back, staring at the ceiling with a pout.

“I know, even Ron has had his!” You whined loudly making the girls pout down at you sympathetically.

“Why don’t you just ask him out?” Ginny asks with a raised brow making the sit up to look at her like she’d grown another head.

“Have you lost the plot, Ginny? Did your crush on Harry turn your head to mush?” You asked seriously making her face turn the same colour as her hair.

“She’s not wrong you know? You’re a beautiful, smart and kind young woman! Why shouldn’t you be the one to ask him out?” Hermione exclaimed happily making you raise a brow at her.

“Oh yes and how is Ronald?” You deadpanned making her turn bright red too.

“Yes, well that boy is about as slow as a sloth at times! I’m working on it.” She stated seriously holding her head high.

“Just tell him how you feel.” Ginny says calmly as her face begins to return to her pale skin tone.

“I’ll think about it.” You answered honestly making them roll their eyes playfully.

You girls spent the rest of the night gossiping and giggling knowing tomorrow was a weekend and you wouldn’t have to be up for classes. You all eventually passed out on your double bed laughing at something on Hermione’s muggle phone.

******

When you woke up the girls were gone and you realised, they had probably gotten dressed and gone to breakfast. You dragged yourself out of bed and began your normal morning routine until you finally stood in front of your mirror freshly washed and dried, hair in two French plaits and your makeup simple, with subtle goldish eyeshadow, a spell to make you lashes appear longer and fuller and some nude lipstick.

You decided you’d be a little more daring with your outfit today and slid on your custom Gryffindor sports bra along with your high waisted denim skirt and your plain white Nike trainers that Hermione had bought you last year from muggle London. You threw on your oversized white knitted cardigan, you may be feeling more daring than usual but no jacket with this outfit choice didn’t feel in your comfort zone. Before adding the last touched with your rings, triple chain necklace and your Gryffindor bucket hat over your braids. The outfit was kind of sporty but in a cute way.

When you finally arrived, a few students were staring as you entered the hall but you ignored it as you made your way to where the others were sat. You plopped down right in the middle of the twins who were staring at your attire rather openly. You shot them both glares before you began putting food on your plate.

“Well, hello there. Where have you been hiding those legs, darling?” George exclaimed in a flirtatious way that had you frowning at him.

“I’m telling Angie.” You smirked at George making him go wide eyed.

“I really thought that was gonna work.” George huffed with a childish pout on his lips.

“Sorry, boys, you won’t catch me out.” You giggled as you looked over to Fred who was still staring silently.

You caught his eyes, staring into them with a hint a seductiveness and mischief. You fluttered you lashes at him not saying anything as his cheek tinged with a slight pink hue. He instantly looked away as if to hide his face behind his hair, ignoring the look George gave him as he tried to jump into another conversation.

You took it as a win.

Once you'd all finished breakfast you wandered back to the common room and made yourself comfortable on the couches around the fire. Everyone began talking amongst themselves about different things as you began telling Ginny about something that had happened the day before the twins interrupted everyone in the group.

“Okay, so we’ve decided we’re gonna challenge Y/N to a guess ‘which twin’ special edition!” George announced making everyone including you, roll their eyes in exasperation.

“Are you guys seriously still stuck on this?” You groaned making them nod in unison with each other.

“Fine let's just get this over with.” You huffed as you stood up in front of them.

“First round, we’re gonna wear the same thing and only have our faces visible. Second round you’ll have to tell us apart by sound and finally by touch!” Fred announced making your eyes widen at the prospect.

“Hey, I never said I could do it without looking!” You complained making them smirk like they’d won.

“But I’ll try.” You added through gritted teeth.

“Hermione, film this poppycock on your muggle phone. This is gonna be bloody brilliant.” Ron snorted as Hermione nodded in agreement.

The twins ran upstairs as quickly as they could only gone for a few minutes before they came down n black jeans and a black turtle neck. You rolled your eyes before glancing at the others as if they would help stop this madness, however, they looked at you expectantly only making you groan in frustration.

“Ron you’re their brother you can tell them apart, right?” You snorted as he looked at you with a fearful gaze as if scared to answer.

“Can no one?” You added glancing at Harry, Ginny and Hermione.

They all shook their head as you glanced at the boys, immediately spotting which was Fred even though they’d switched themselves around when you had been looking at the others. You rolled your eyes and patted Freds chest with a smile on your face.

“Fred.” You muttered making everyone gape at you including the twins.

“Here’s a blindfold.” Hermione laughed as she waited for Fred to tie that around your eyes.

You wouldn’t likely be able to do the last two things but you’d give it your best shot just to shut the boys up. You could feel the boys breathes brushing across your ears as they leant down to talk into your ear.

“Can you tell who-”

“-Is who.” They both muttered finishing each other's sentence.

“Say my name.” You asked calmly making them chuckle at the side of you.

“Y/N.” You couldn’t quite tell to be honest but the second the other twin spoke you knew.

“Y/N.” Fred whispered against your ear; his voice wasn’t as deep as Georges however it sounded more soothing to your ears.

“This is Fred.” You grinned as you gripped the front of Fred turtle neck.

Everyone went silent so you went to take you mask off but Fred hand came up to stop you as there was the sound of moving around. You stood still and allowed them to move where they wanted before you felt someone touch your arm making you jump a little.

“Okay, its Hermione I’m gonna guide you to one of the boys and you go from there.” She chuckled as she walked you a few feet before lifting your hand so it was on top of one of the twin's head.

You instantly brought your hand down straight to where you knew Fred’s scar would be but it wasn’t there so you smirked to yourself but continued to drag your hand down to cup his cheek. As he nuzzled into your hand you pulled back a slapped his cheek lightly before standing back and giggling to yourself.

“I thought I told you I’d tell Angie if you kept flirting, Georgie.” You snickered as you took off your blindfold.

“That is amazing! How did you do it?” Ron exclaimed excitedly as he began clapping and jumping up and down.

“I don’t know to be honest, I thought I would have failed both blindfolded challenges at least.” You giggled as you glanced at the twins who still looked beyond shocked.

Fred looked at you curiously, his eyes narrowed a little as if he was thinking about something when suddenly he stepped up and was in front of you with his arms crossed. You gave him a soft smile that made his posture drop a little but he still remained suspicious.

“There’s got to be some sort of tell.” Fred asked seriously making you frown. He seemed beyond upset about the fact that no matter what, you could spot him a mile away even next to his brother.

“Fine shall I list everything?” You scoffed in annoyance but he nodded like that was obvious.

“You have a small scar on your eyebrow, you also have a slightly rounder face. Not much but it’s there. You have a tiny scar on your nose. And you have abs. Where as George doesn-”

“How on earth do you know that?” Ron shouted making your face turn bright red.

“There was an incident last year at Christmas…” You mumbled shyly making Fred smirk down at you.

“Hey! I kind of have abs!” George shouts with a pout on his face.

“Can we move on?” You huffed softly making everyone nod in agreement.

“Your voice is slightly softer than George. You’re also more confident when you talk.” You added your last points.

“There’s are all points on how you can tell it’s Fred! What about me?” George scoffed making you puff out your cheeks in all hope that your face didn’t turn a deeper shade of red.

“You have a mole on your neck.” You supplied nervously making everyone roll their lips to stop from smiling or commenting.

“Aww I didn’t know you paid so much attention, darling.” Fred teased as he slung his arm around you, lowering himself so he was at your eye level.

“I-I don’t.” You stuttered as you glanced at Hermione who found the whole things hilarious.

“Doesn’t sound that way. Hmm, maybe we should go upstairs and find more differences.” Fred joked, wiggling his eyebrows at you making you turn so red you could practically feel your cheeks glowing.

You budge Fred away and slapped his arm a few times like his mother did when he was misbehaving. He faked a pained expression as he burst out laughing as you began chasing after him with your hat, slapping him with it as the others laughed at you.

“You, Fred Weasley, are a bloody menace.” You snapped as you went to sit on the couch next to Harry.

“You love me really.” He chuckled as he threw himself down next to you on the couch.

“In your dreams Weasley.” You snorted sarcastically causing him to grin from ear to ear.

“Oh, you do plenty of things in my dreams, love.” He flirted making your eyes widen.

“Ew. Get a room.” Ron faked gagged as Hermione nudged him and told him to shut it.

*********

You spent the rest of the morning hanging out with the twins. The younger kids had long since ran off claiming they had places to be and eventually so did George saying he had a date with Angie leaving you and Fred alone on the common room.

“Let’s play truth or dare.” Fred announced making you roll your eyes.

“There’s not enough people for that to be fun, and you know it.” You snorted as he pondered your words for a second.

“Okay, Hermione taught me one called two truths and a lie. You say three things, two have to be the truth, the other has to be a lie. I have to guess which one.” Fred supplies making you contemplate it for a second before giving him a nod telling him you agreed.

“Okay. I am failing herbology, I hate peas and I love your tiny little skirt.” He stated his last one making you turn a lovely shade of red, as you hit his chest playfully.

“You like peas. So hating them is a lie. Pervert.” You huffed before thinking of yours.

“I hate spring, I slept with a Slytherin once and I always carry sweets with me.” You almost laughed when you told the lie, but you held it in as you stared at him. He seemed to stiffen a little when you said you’d slept with a Slytherin but said nothing as he seemed to think about it.

“The sweets one is a lie.” He guessed making you gape at him.

You dug your hand into your pocket which had an extendable charm on him before dragging out a wrapped up sweet showing it to him with a smirk. He gasped at you before laughing a little and staring at you with inquisitive eyes.

“So which was the lie?” He asked softly making you grin.

“If you didn’t guess, you don’t get to know.” You chuckled humorously.

“That’s no fair!” He complained loudly making you giggle.

“Do you really think I’d sleep with a Slytherin?” You laughed making him shrug.

“I don’t know who you do in your spare time.” He snorted making you flush a little as you looked away hoping that would be the end on that conversation.

“Okay, your turn.” You muttered awkwardly as he seemed to think about it.

“I love snow, I have purple boxers on and I had a dirty dream last night.” He smirked as he said the last one making you roll your lips to hold your smile back.

“Pervert. The dreams a lie although that’s a guess because how would I know what colour your underwear is.” You laughed making him grin from ear to ear as he flashed you his purple boxers.

“I told you love. You do plenty of things in my dreams.” Fred teased as he threw his arms around you on the couch, his lips hovering near your ear.

“I have never kissed someone. I went on a date with Oliver and I fancy you.” You confidently stated a smirk on your face as his eyes widened.

“I mean you don’t fancy me so that has to be the lie. But I also don’t believe you’ve never had your first kiss so…I don’t know.” Fred grumbled as he stared off in deep thought.

Just then Oliver walked into the common room and Fred looked at him with wide eyes before you could stop him he shouted at Oliver.

“Did you go on a date with Y/N?” He asked making Oliver frown as you slapped your hand over you face in embarrassment.

“No, did ya want to go on a date, darling?” He chuckled softly his accent making it sound much smoother than you’d imagined. You let out a giggle as Fred seemed to be calculating something when suddenly his jumped up from his seat.

“You can’t have her she’s mine.” Fred grumbled as he pulled you up from the couch and began dragging you up to the boys dorm straight into his room before shutting the door.

His words were echoing in your head as he began pacing back and forth in front of you. I’m his? Did he mean that? Obviously your not ‘his’, you’re not even dating but for some reason you didn’t care. Just having him call you his was amazing.

“So you’ve never dated Oliver?” He confirmed making you nod silently.

“Which means you like me and you haven’t had your first kiss?” He questioned again but this time you made no move to nod just averted you eyes from him shyly.

Suddenly you were pinned to his bedroom door, his left hand pressed flat against the door while the other one lifting your head so you’d look at him. You stared into gorgeous brown eyes, it was like they were hypnotising you. Your breathing hitched in your chest as you tried not to lean into his touch.

“Answer me, love.” He demanded softly as his eyes flickered to your lips.

“Well, I g-guess there’s no use denying it now. Yes, I like you and no I have never been kissed or anything like that.” You answered truthfully making his pupils blow up swallowing the brown colour that was there.

“Can I claim your first kiss, pretty girl?” He whispered as he dipped down brushing his nose against yours.

“Please.” You sighed desperately, his breath fanning against your lips.

There were no more words exchanged as his lips pressed against yours. You gasped at the electric feeling of his lips massaging your own. He was taking it slow, but you could feel his desperation as his hand that was flat against the door clenched as if he was holding himself back.

Your arms reached up and wrapped around his neck as you pulled him against you. His fingers left your chin and wrapped around your waist as he got as close as he could whilst tilting his head to one side to deepen the kiss. His tongue swiped against your lower lip, begging for entrance which you gave him.

Despite it being your first kiss, you followed his movements easily as if you’d been doing this your whole life. His tongue tangling with yours as his hand dug into your denim covered hip before it cautiously slid around your love handles until his hand slid into your back pocket, squeezing your ass a little. You moaned into his mouth at the feeling causing him to pull away and look down at you with hooded eyes.

“Can’t be making sexy little noises like that, love.” Fred groaned as his head fell against your collar bone.

“Sorry, Freddie.” You whispered shyly as you let your hands fall from around his neck.

“I would really like if you would be my girlfriend?” He chuckled softly as he stood up straight, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“I would very much love to be your girlfriend, Fred Weasley.” You giggled as you wrapped your arms around his waist and buried your head in his chest.

****************

The next few weeks went by quickly and everything kind of fell into place. You and Fred spend all your spare time together, you had even stayed the night in his room one time. So, when you woke up at almost 8am you decided to sneak into Freds room hoping he wouldn’t mind a few cuddles before breakfast.

You didn’t bother changing out of the oversized Gryffindor sweater that was Fred’s as you jogged out your room towards the boy's dorm. When you got to his door you quietly opened the door hoping not to wake him only to find Fred sat up, naked with his cock in his hand.

You instantly flushed but instead of covering your eyes you let yourself admire him. Your eyes flittering from his eyes to his lip slowly down until you reached his hardened member. You were embarrassed but you couldn’t take your eyes away for some reason. Your thighs clenching together as you felt yourself growing wet.

“Enjoying the view, love?” He groaned as he pumped his hand over his cock a few times.

“Can I touch you, Freddie?” You asked bravely his eyes widening a little as you approached the bed chewing on your bottom lip.

“Baby, you can do whatever you want to me.” He chuckled as he pulled you onto the bed kissing the spot just behind your ear.

You had a feeling when you asked to touch him, he thought you were going to give him a simple hand job however, what Fred didn’t know about you was you had a serious oral fixation so when you pushed away from him and leant down to lick the tip of his cock he jolted in shock as he gripped the sheets beneath him.

“You don’t have t-”

“Do you know why I have to carry sweets around with me?” You asked softly making him frown a little as he shook his head.

“I have an oral fixation.” You giggled making him groan a little.

“Then be a good girl and open your mouth, baby.” Fred growled as he ran his thumb against your lower lip.

You complied with his request swirling your tongue around the tip before taking him in your mouth. You couldn’t explain why but the feeling of his long-hardened member in your mouth caused you to groan as you tried to clench your thighs again, stroking attempting to get any kind of friction. You sucked on him like he was one of the lolly's you carried with you, savouring the slight salty taste at the head of his tip.

He must've been doing this for a while before you got here because he seemed ready to burst already and you'd barely done anything. You slid him further down your throat until you felt your nose touching his pubic bone. He moaned your name rather desperately as he took in the sight of you deep throating his cock.

“Fuck, I'm gonna finish, love.” He groaned as he tried to pull out your mouth but you pushed back down and began deep throating him whilst your hand reached up to massage his balls.

He finally let out a string of curses as he came down your throat watching intensely as he watched you swallow every drop, even licking him clean once you'd pulled away. He stared down at you in a mix of amazement and lust as he pulled you upwards until you were hovering over his chest. You barely had chance to be embarrassed when he sunk down the bed lower and pulled your panties to the side, his tongue instantly licking a stripe up your wet slit.

You moaned in desperation as you lifted the quidditch shirt so you could see him buried in your pussy. He gazed up at you darkly as he began licking and sucking at your swollen bundle of nerves. You whimpered as his fingers dug into your ass cheeks making you grind down onto his tongue, the whole thing was embarrassing but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

He paused to help you tug off your panties before getting back into the same position, his tongue immediately getting to work again.

“Come on, sweet girl, use my tongue to get you off.” He pleaded before he continuously flickered his tongue over your clit.

“Fuck, Freddie.” You moaned loudly as you began thrusting against his tongue chasing the orgasm that was quickly building.

He kept still as he watched you unfold above him. You grabbed his hand and began sucking on two of his fingers which had him groaning beneath you as your thrusts became untimed, your orgasm finally ripping through you. You released his fingers and screamed his name as you finally climaxed against his tongue clenching against nothing.

Fred rolled over, flipping you on to your back, his face still between your thighs until he crawled upwards, his lips brushing against your neck leaving kisses and bites wherever his lips touched.

“Do you want to?” He trailed off but you knew what he meant and you nodded your head as you wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him up for a kiss.

“Need you, Freddie.” You moaned as you thrust up grinding your wet heat over his erection.

“So needy aren’t you, baby?” He teased darkly as he gripped your hip with one hand and used the other to guide his member to your entrance.

He pushed his tip inside, stretching you out, as he slowly pushed more of himself inside. It didn’t overly hurt until he finally broke through your barrier but that may be to do with the fact that you had done nothing but touch yourself whenever you were alone. Your thoughts constantly consumed by Fred.

You whimpered a little as he finally pushed all the way in. You could feel him touching every inch of you the pain faded faster than it came, causing you to grind against him wanting him to move. He groaned against your neck as he started thrusting your tight heat fluttering around him.

“You feel so tight, princess.” He growled as he pushed himself up with his arms, staring into your eyes as you clenched around him at the sound of the new nickname he’d just called you. Such a royal and flowery title sounded so dirty but so right the way he said it.

“Well, that’s a development isn’t it, princess.” He chuckled darkly as he gripped your left ankle flipping your leg to meet you other one in a foetal position, before he manhandled you onto your stomach before pulling your ass up so you were face down ass up.

It shouldn’t be that hot to be manhandled.

He began thrusting inside of you slowly but deeply as you got used to the new position. You moaned with almost every thrust of his hips, his hand slid from your hips to your ass cheeks, squeezing them harshly. The feeling of his hands on your ass had you moaning out his name loudly.

What happened next shocked you a little but more than anything it turned you on so much. His hand came down across your ass causing you to let out a small squeak of surprise before your pussy clenched around him tightly.

“I’m finding out all sorts of dirty little kinks you have, princess.” Fred mocked huskily as he bent over to press kisses on your spine, making you shiver; his thrusts turning torturously slow.

“No fair, wanna know your kinks.” You pout cutely over your shoulder making him smirk a little, at least until you flutter your lashes.

“Please.” As you muttered that tiny word, Fred’s smug face dropped into a dark lustful gaze as you felt him pulse against your walls.

“Is that one, Freddie? Hmm like it when I beg.” You teased as you pushed back to meet his slow thrusts causing him to go so deep your saw stars.

“Please, need you to fuck me with your big cock, Freddie. P-Please.” You moaned as you clenched around him.

“You beg so pretty, princess.” He growled against your back as his hand slid under you wrapping around your throat.

He lifted you both to an upright kneeling position, his hand resting loosely against your neck while his other wound down to start massaging your clit as he began fucking you harshly. The new speed causing your eyes to roll back as you threw your head back against his collar bone and turn to look at him as you felt your orgasm building up once again.

“I’m so close, baby.” He moaned huskily into your ear before pressing a sweet kiss to your temple.

“Gonna cum inside me, Freddie?” You moaned with a filthy grin on your face making him growl against your cheek as his hand gripped your throat harder.

“Cum slut too, baby?” He whispered with a harsh dominance that had you gasping in a silent scream.

His fingers sped up on your clit as his thrust grew faster and faster as you whimpered against his neck. He began leaving hickeys on your neck as his hand gripped your hip as he began ramming into you like an animal.

“That’s it, princess, take it like a good girl.” He growled against your skin as his hands kept drawing soft but fast circles on your clit.

“I’m cummin’, Fred.” You moaned loudly as you grind into his fingers.

“Cum all over my cock, baby.” He whispered filthily in your ear making your orgasm rip through you, your sight became blurred and floaty as you zoned out for a second, thankfully you came back to, just in time to see Fred brows furrowed, biting his lip as he came inside you.

You stayed for a few minutes, using each other’s bodies to prop you up as you both recovered. When he finally looked down at you, you met his eyes and smiled up at him with a soft gaze.

“If it wasn’t obvious, that was amazing.” You giggled lazily making him chuckle.

“Yes it was.” He agreed as he finally pulled out.

You cleaned yourself up a little with wipes he gave you before coming back into bed with Fred and curling up together. Both of you drifting off rather quickly.

*********

Years later...

You could feel Fred’s naked chest against your back, so you spun around and snuggled into his naked chest but something felt off. That wasn’t Fred.

“George, what are you doing in mine and Fred’s bed?” You grumbled as you looked up at him with tired eyes.

“For the love of Merlin!” Fred exclaimed from somewhere outside the bedroom.

He came into the room with the tiny version of him tottering behind him. You smiled at the sight rolling over and picked up your little girl from the floor.

“I thought for sure you’d not recognise me if you were half asleep.” He grumbled with a pout.

“Even our daughter can’t tell!” He huffed making you laugh a little.

“She’s 3.” You deadpanned as George slid his T-shirt back on.

“We’ve been together 7 years, 4 of which we were married. Let it go, baby.” You chuckled as you stroked your daughters curly ginger hair away from her face.

“Maybe.” He snorted as he flopped on the bed as George muttered something about coffee, leaving the room.

“I love you, Fred Weasley.” You giggled as you bent down to peck his lips.

“I love you too, Y/N Weasley.” He replied with a smug smirk on his face.

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #the weasley twins #reader insert #harry potter #potterhead #mischief managed #guess the twin #smut #fred weasley smut #hogwarts #headgirl!reader #head girl

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artbymaranne · 1 year

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Some good ol’ Fred Weasley fanart for the crowd.

#fred weasley #harry potter #harry potter fan art #fan art #fred and goerge weasley #fred and george #the weasleys #the weasly twins #the weasley twins #harry potter art #art work #james phelps

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cannibalizedyke · 1 year

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no bc the way angelina johnson dated fred and then married george 💀💀 girlypop really said “oh no!! my boyfriend!! he’s dead!! that is so sad ☹️ oh well rip rest in peace frederick i’m gonna go fuck ur brother 😍”

#mad-rambles #elia talks harry potter #george weasley #fred weasley #the weasley twins #angelina johnson #harry potter #lightning era

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oxydiane · 2 years

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the way percy weasley and his whole alienation from the family was left out from the movies wouldn’t even have bothered me that much if it didn’t ruin one of the (in my opinion) worst deaths of the series. i remember reading deathly hallows for the first time and in the frenzy and panic that was the battle of hogwarts, the moment percy came back to fight alongside his family. “hello minister! did i mention i’m resigning?” “you’re joking, perce! you’re actually joking, perce… i don’t think i’ve heard you joke since you were—“ fred died laughing, laughing with percy rather than at percy… i remember being absolutely destroyed when i realised both fred and sirius died laughing

#fred dying was so unnecessary like what was the REASON #fuck everybody honestly i’ll never be whole again #as won’t george (haha)#harry potter #sirius black #percy weasley #fred weasley #ron weasley #the weasley twins #battle of hogwarts #deathly hallows #order of the phoenix #OOTP #rant #ish

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wolfstardaughter-jj · 2 years

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*Y/n and Lee laughing their asses off*

George: Merlin, are they drunk?

Y/n: We are not drunk! *Continues to laugh*

Lee: Yeah! We lust jack oxygen!....we juck last oxygen? We luck jast- fuck.

Y/n: *laughing to the point she falls to the floor* I can't breath *wheezes*

Fred: Yeah they're either drunk or Lee is having a stroke and Y/n might just be high.

Y/n: *gasp* I am not high!...Heh,luck jast-*starts laughing again*

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l0standn0tf0und · 5 months

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can't have too many fav fics with Georgie

first part

second part

third part

fourth part

♡ = smut, 18+ only

alphabet headcanons (a: affection, d: domestic, g: gentle)

take care of each other (1st part - oh, brother)

tis the season... mistletoe season

you scared the hell out of me

parting is such sweet sorrow

christmas at the weasleys

another and another

the bookworm

orange bitters

stay the night

show and tell

days gone by

𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘦

pygmy puffs

i can't do it

three years

nightmare

shampain

first date

sneak in

promise

handsy

malkin

♡against the wall

Not my stories. Just my favorites from other writers. All credits and support to the original authors: @harrysweasleys @ickle-ronniekins @thoseofgreatambition @crazyk-imagine @never--doubt @george-weasleys-girl @henqtic @cannibalizedyke @georgeweasleyslostearhq @hello-everyfandom @girl-next-door-writes @kinzis-writing @pepper-up-potion @myboipotterimagines

masterlist

#george weasley #george weasley smut #george weasley headcanon #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley x reader #george weasley x fem #george weasley x slytherin!reader #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n #george weasley fluff #george weasley fic #george weasley angst #the weasley twins #weasley twins #weasley twins x reader #weasley twins smut #fic recommendation #fic rec #harry potter fanfiction

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cherryslyce · 1 year

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Second Son (XIV) | Regulus Black

Series Synopsis: Forbidden from contacting Harry over the summer, you opt to explore the eerie halls of Grimmauld Place where you stumble upon a lonely portrait of the House's second son.

— Chapter Synopsis: Y/N joins Contessa Zabini for tea. Luna and Y/N make way to Reine, Norway. Y/N remembers something important about Regulus.

Part XIII / Part XV / Series Masterlist

Pairing: Regulus Black x GN!Reader

Notes: The Zabini's and Baroque architecture just makes sense to me. Also uhhh have fun <3.

The cranberry tinted cup that sat in front of you made your tea flush like diluted blood, the glass flared at the rims to resemble a blossom, imposing on the matching saucer that you couldn’t draw your eyes away from.

Luna sat perfectly quaint to your left, eyes running across the opulent clusters of furniture that accessorized the already extravagant room. Intricate carvings lined cream pillars that pinched the rounded windows in front of you, each imposing structure veiled by heavy blush curtains. The wooden table in front of you was polished spotlessly, matching the ornate chair that sat sturdy underneath your rigid body. On the opposite wall, you’re suddenly aware of the colossal gold-trimmed mirror that was no doubt reflecting your squared shoulders.

Blaise was living in a baroque daydream. Damn him.

Your tongue was doing a funny thing, tipping between sensitivity and leathery roughness. That would be of your own doing, having immediately drawn your lips to the scalding tea in an effort to diffuse the tension in your shoulders. Despite the abrupt burn, you had held in the sputtering that twisted in your throat in order to maintain some semblance of decorum.

The silence was becoming unnerving and you could tell that Blaise agreed, the usually composed slytherin was twitching to twist his rings for the nth time. Unexpectedly, when you all had arrived at the Zabini Manor, you were met with a rather unimpressed Theodore Nott. Blaise had quietly whispered that the boy was well-liked by his mother and was often a guest at their manor.

It felt like you and Luna had become prey trapped in a den full of beguiling predators. The Contessa sat across from you with Blaise to her right, the woman not even batting an eye when Theodore chose to round the table and sit next to you instead.

Easy access to attack you or was he also intimidated by the elegant woman?

“So you were at a wedding, dear?” The Contessa’s voice was smothered in a richness that complemented her unflinching gaze.

Clearing your throat lightly, you lean forward to meet her keen eyes, “Yes.” Your tone was mellow–formal, and the lack of embellishing in your answer seemed to both amuse and vex her.

Not giving up so easily, the woman stirs her tea without breaking eye contact, “I see, and you were both making a quick trip to Diagon Alley afterwards?” The question would have seemed innocent if it were coming from anybody else (perhaps with the exception of Voldemort), but you could practically see the gears in her head turning.

“A little disruption ruined our appetite for celebration.”

The woman raises a perfectly trimmed eyebrow at you, “Oh? What’s a wedding without a little family drama?”

You felt like someone had taken a bludger and scrambled your brains with it, high society was truly not for the weak to stomach. You weren’t even sure if the Contessa was teasing you or trying to prod for information.

It was likely the latter, and the thought made your stomach twist a little. Your exchange of letters had always been polite, borderlining strained pleasantries that involved Hogwarts classes, your research, and plans to meet up (that you were hoping to never attend).

“Family drama would have been preferable, I’m afraid,” Your tone lifted ever so slightly, but the small smile pulling at your lips hid how irritated you were becoming with the tango of words.

You shoot Blaise a small glance and see him watching you both with an unreadable expression, though his intense eyes unnerved you a bit. Like mother, like son.

The Contessa’s lips purse thinly and you get the impression that she is also becoming increasingly irate with your resolution, but then her face settles into a sharp grin.

Humming lowly, she tilts her head to assess you before speaking, “You impress me, my dear. It would seem that Blaise is getting better at picking his companions,” You see her shoot a small approving glance at Theodore, who merely sips his tea nonchalantly, “Theodore, Y/N – I hope you both will continue to look out for Blaise. We Zabini’s pride ourselves in our unflinching loyalty and we always return what is given to us threefold.”

Chancing a peek at the boy next to you, you see Theodore meet your eyes evenly. Your move.

Nodding at the dignified woman, you smile genuinely for the first time that evening, “It would be my honor, Contessa Zabini. However, my devotion to Blaise would have continued without question, he is quite-” you raise your eyebrow at the boy, “-fascinating, after all.”

By fascinating, I mean half as scary as you and ten times more approachable. His wicked sense of humor is also a plus.

Blaise narrows his eyes goodheartedly and drops a sugar cube into his cooled tea, “Thanks.” The dry response has Theodore hiding a small smirk in his tea cup, while the Contessa merely shoots an unimpressed look at her son’s sickly concoction.

“Indeed, you are quite personable, Y/N. I can’t help but wonder though, what is your stance on the current political climate? It would be ever so insightful for me.” The woman smoothly questions, the calculative glint in her eyes flashing under the chandelier lights.

Translation: Are you going to induct my son into Voldemort’s goonies or Dumbledore’s sycophants?

Stirring your tea absentmindedly, you decide to answer honestly, “I have my own motivations that don’t exactly align with the polarized ideologies of our sphere. Of course, I have a preference for who I wish to see come out on top, but either way, my own interests outweigh my desire to participate in politics.”

Your answer seems to catch everybody off guard (except for Luna who smiles like she’s known all along), and you see consideration paint the Contessa’s face, “Interesting. Blaise has indicated that you are quite close with Harry Potter, yet you declare neutrality?”

“Neutrality for as long as my interests continue to hold my attention, but I hold no ounce of admiration for the Dark Lord or his underlings.” You hesitate to continue, feeling shifty with how easily your words were spilling out.

Blaise seems to grasp onto your words and leans forwards to prod you, “But?”

“But, I do not think that certain knowledge and teachings should be tabooed.”

Theodore speaks up for the first time to confirm what you were insinuating, “The Dark Arts.”

You nod and lift up your tea cup, sipping carefully despite how tasteless it was due to your burns.

“And these interests of yours, do they involve the Dark Arts?” The Contessa swipes a manicured nail around the handle of her cup, eyes no longer shrewd.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you lean back before answering lightly, “They might. I cannot say for certainty that they do. However, it does involve unusual magic.”

“I see. It makes sense now why you asked to see those Norwegian tomes.” The woman’s eyes are alight, a glow that made it seem as though an investment of hers bloomed to fruition beautifully.

You shuddered imperceptibly. Was it an honor or an omen that she seemed so intrigued by you?

Theodore perks up and he turns to you with wide eyes, “Norwegian tomes?”

The boy’s eagerness for knowledge was palpable, and you couldn’t help but be amused by his antics. It was so familiar because you saw it often in Regulus.

Regulus. You winced. You wouldn’t think about it anymore.

“Yes,” Turning to face the Contessa, you weigh your options, “If I may, I was wondering if I could borrow an owl for a letter. I want to inform my other friends of my plans going forward.”

Blaise raises his eyebrows and frowns, “Plans? Are you not meeting up with them soon?”

“Actually, I-” Luna turns to you with determined eyes at your slip up, “-we are heading North.”

“North?” Blaise looks exceedingly unimpressed and you knew you wouldn’t be going anywhere until you satiated his curiosity.

“Yes, up North.”

“Where up North, pray tell?” He drawls with crossed arms.

“Norway. We’re going to Norway.” Your tone was flat, eyes conveying your exasperation.

Blaise sputters indignantly and barely restrains himself from throwing his hands up, “Norway? We have school in two weeks! How long are you planning to be there for?”

“Indefinitely. It’s for my personal research.”

“Well, I’m coming with you.” Blaise’s declaration has you darting your eyes to the Contessa with bated breath, watching the woman cross her arms.

“Absolutely not. You have school, caro.” Blaise frowns deeply at his mother’s refusal and sits back in his seat, shoulders sagging in defeat, unwilling to argue with her. Theodore looks at you like you’ve grown a second head, likely considering if he would be able to leave school early too with the excuse of sabbatical.

The Contessa turns to you, ignoring her son’s fit, “Of course, I’ll have one of my house elfs fetch you some parchment and ink. I’m sure Blaise wouldn’t mind if you borrowed his owl,” The woman suddenly rises from her seat and shoots you all a pleasant smile before smoothing out her dress, “This evening has been quite insightful. I look forward to our next meeting, Y/N. Safe journeys, don’t be a stranger.”

Without waiting for a response, the woman spins on her heel and struts towards the double doors, calling for an elf as she crosses the threshold, “Viren, bring some parchment and ink for my guests.” The door clicks shut behind her as her last words reach your ears, and you slump in your seat as exhaustion soars through your veins.

Before a disgruntled Blaise or an eager Theodore – the bloody ravenclaw in snake skin, can get a word out, a light pop draws your attention towards a rather properly dressed house elf, parchment and writing supplies in tow.

Luna is quick to gather the supplies and quietly thank the elf, smoothing out the parchment in front of you.

“I still want to go with you.” Blaise’s voice is soft, and you’re unable to detect any irritation.

Peering up from your writing, you smile lightly at the two boys, “Sorry. You two need to hold down the fort. I didn’t say anything earlier, but the Ministry has been infiltrated by Voldemort and his followers, that’s why we left the wedding in such a hurry. Scrimgeour is dead as well,” You heave a sigh and flick the quill casually, “I suspect Hogwarts is going to be overtaken next, and Harry and I wouldn’t be caught dead there this year, we’d be like little crup puppies in a ball pit.”

Both slytherins look stumped by your straightforwardness, and Blaise huffs out a little ‘well shit’ that has you nodding.

Theodore stares deeply into the translucent pool of tea in his cup, voice barely above a whisper, “The war is going to end soon.”

“Yes, and Harry’s going to make sure Voldemort is damned all the way into the afterlife.” If either of the boys were unconvinced by your conviction, they didn’t let it show, opting to share a look of understanding with each other before turning to you and nodding lightly.

Blaise rounds the table and drops his hands onto your shoulders, “You better not die. And I guess I can take care of our ward for the time being.”

“Ward?” Theodore sounds (rightfully) perplexed by his best friend’s words.

“Little Draconis,” you supply, much to Theodore’s bewilderment, “And Blaise, stop making it sound like we’ve adopted him!”

You wave your friend off and finish up your letter, leaning back in satisfaction as you hear Blaise clamber away to fetch his owl.

Prongslet (and co),

Luna and I are going to redeem our meal tickets (not as bizarre of a gift as one may think). We may not be back before darkness falls. Tell the old menace I said hello, and that I will make good on my promise to him. Stay safe and stay together.

- Someone’s beloved Birdie

Norway was incomparably arctic to Britain, the frigid winds bit at the tips of your fingers with fervid rushes, and you were positive that your legs were now flesh icicles. Despite how ardently your body protested against the climate, you couldn’t help the serene smile that mapped the muscles of your face. The chill was not the only difference the region had over Britain, and its tranquility was almost foreign to you.

Now more than ever, Wizarding Britain seemed to have a miasma of doom looming over the country and the change of pace was almost tangible.

“Here we are,” Luna’s airy voice was a welcomed sound amidst your inner exultation. You couldn’t help but draw similarities between the mysticality of Luna’s magic and disposition, and the blankets of fog that permeated over the lake in the far distance.

Both were curious in their own aspects, but you couldn’t help but want to melt deeper in the feeling they both surrounded you with.

You pulled your overcoat tighter around your body, thanking Merlin and those above that Blaise practically tore his closet right to left to find suitable clothing for you and Luna before you both departed from Zabini Manor.

Stepping closer to Luna, you hum as you observe the view in the distance, “It’s beautiful.”

Reine was truly idyllic. The fishing village was cupped by snowy peaks that towered over the clots of buildings which mottled the shores of the lake – a place truly untouched by the withering fog of petulant human conflict.

The apparition was quite tiring and you could feel fatigue coiling around your muscles, urging you to quickly seek refuge.

“Couldn’t have picked a better place really: picturesque, remote, and lauded for proficiency in multiple languages.” Your words are light and playful, spurning a grin to bloom on Luna’s face.

Dumbledore practically handed you a bubble-wrapped opportunity served on a golden platter.

The both of you begin to trek towards the village, not wanting to risk apparition in case you were seen by any locals. To your knowledge, this Anders Fiske was the only magical folk in Reine, holing himself away from densely populated regions for reasons only Merlin knows.

As you approach the banks of the waters and the largest building amongst the cluster, you inhale shakily as you see a sinewy man exit the building. The man seems to pause and do a double take, fully turning when he realized that you weren’t a figment of his imagination.

“Hello,” His voice is gruff and gratingly neutral, only weakening your resolve.

Talking to people was hard. But you survived a – conversation? interrogation? with Contessa Zabini, this should be a piece of cake.

“Hello, we’re looking for someone named Anders Fiske,” your tone is even and you try your best to look as friendly as possible. Luna simply stares off into a red house in the distance, seeming to look straight through the man in front of you.

Immediately, you can see the man tense before he forcibly relaxes his stance, pinching his eyebrows together as he surveys you, “There is no one here by that name.”

You would have believed him. If you were a dolt, of course.

“Are you certain? It’s rather important, and he’s the only one that can help us.” The man doesn’t falter and you frown when you feel something inch towards you.

Helga almighty.

He had a magical signature. The man in front of you was clearly a wizard, whether he knew it or not.

Before you can ruminate on your discovery, the man speaks up, “Yes. So you both should leave.”

A subtle bone in his body, there was not.

Feeling your eye twitch, you decide to do some searching on your own terms. Releasing your magic, you slowly blanket the surrounding buildings in search for another magical signature. It was clear enough that the man in front of you was not who you were looking for – unless Dumbledore wanted you to have some grilled monkfish with the most conspicuous wizard ever to roam the earth since Godric Gryffindor himself.

As you continue to scavenge the village with your magic, the man in front of you shifts from side to side, clearly becoming wary of your sudden silence and blank stare.

Before you can continue, a thunderous slam has you flinching out of your concentration. Peering around the looming man, your eyes meet a guarded gaze. Tilting your head, you sidestep and assess the newcomer, smiling slowly as you realize that he was another wizard.

The new man was much older and you could see the way he leaned on his right leg as if his left one was aching from the slightest pressure. He was hunched in the pathway of the red house Luna was observing, mouth set into a deep frown.

“Bingo,” Without waiting for the younger man to say anything (or possibly toss you into the lake), you stroll over toward the older man who was slowly retreating back into his house.

Luna follows after you and nods happily to herself, starting to skip by your side.

Stopping a few yards away from the man, you roll your shoulders to ease your soreness before jumping into the golden question, “Are you Anders Fiske?”

The man appears to be ready to vehemently deny your question, but Luna speaks up before he can even utter a mumble, “Dumbledore sent us!”

“Dumbledore?” The man’s harsh wrinkles smooth over ever so slightly, and your former headmaster’s name seems to roll off his tongue instinctually.

“Yes. In his will, he told me that I needed to seek you out for a…meal? I’m in need of your help,” The man seems nonplussed by your declaration, and you purse your lips before sweetening up your words, “Please.”

You see the man’s eyes flicker behind you and back rapidly, seeming to mull over everything.

Without a word, the man dips into the shadow of his house with one last glower.

Excuse me, what?

“Come,” You’re startled out of your stupor by a familiar deep voice, and you can only trail forward, mouth hung open, as the younger man leads you and Luna inside.

As the younger man closes the door shut behind you, an array of lamps flicker to life around the room, illuminating the perimeter much to your amazement. The room was cozy and frazzled in a similar fashion to the Weasley’s home, and your eyes couldn’t help but trail across a wall of tomes the size of your head.

“You shouldn’t be here,” The older man – Anders, grumbles from the middle of the room, sat at the dining table with a demeanor you found synonymous with Moody during meetings at Grimmauld Place.

Smiling coyly, you watch Luna as she wanders almost weightlessly towards the small corner kitchen, “You shouldn’t have revealed yourself, Anders.”

The man lets out a low grunt and you almost have to physically restrain your eyebrows from floating off your face. This man was literally Moody in a different, older font.

“You would have figured it out anyway. Could feel that magic of yours suffocating the whole place from in here.” His tone was rough, but you wanted to believe that there was an impressed shine in his eyes.

The younger man who was (surprisingly) still behind you, decides to interrupt your conversation, “Father, who are these people?”

Anders places his elbows on the table and gives you and Luna a once-over, “Magical folk.”

“A threat?” Anders’ son carries an edge to his tone that has you nearly rolling your eyes.

You were about to blast him through the window, but you couldn’t let this opportunity slip away because of unbridled temptations.

“That remains to be seen.”

Anders’ reply seems to placate his son for the time being, and he heads off towards Luna as the girl hunches over to study a chipped teapot on the counter. You shift and make your way to stand in across from Anders, not exactly sure what approach to take.

The yellow lighting bounced off the man’s face and gave him a sickly complexion, emphasizing his stress lines and suspicious eyes as you drew closer.

“So, Dumbledore is dead?” He sounded almost regretful. Either that or you knocked your head on the way in.

“Unfortunately. War is not forgiving, especially to martyrs.” Your tone was not nearly as sad as it probably should have been, but it seemed to be of no trouble for the older wizard.

Anders sighs and leans back in his seat, one hand coming to clutch his shoulder unconsciously, “The old fool knew what he was getting into,” He raises his eyes to look at you appraisingly, “Can’t imagine why he’d send you my way, anyway.”

“I’m researching. Something that is unfortunately, extremely niche. Dumbledore said you might be able to enlighten me on the subject.” Your determined tone seems to draw in some interest from him, and you have to mask the victorious feeling that washes over you.

That’s right, scholar to scholar. Hook, line, and sinker.

The man waits for you to continue, so you slowly pull out the chair in front of you and sink down across from him, “It’s about magical essences. It seems that you are quite sensitive to magical signatures, seeing as you could sense me releasing my magic earlier,” Anders gives a brisk nod, and you clench your hands as you continue, “A few summers ago, I encountered something strange–special. I found a portrait that was imbued with magical essence, and this portrait, he was extremely sentient.”

You feel a knot lodge in your throat at the reminder of Regulus, the wound of his destruction feeling painfully raw again. Seeing your sudden hesitance, Anders raises a scruffy white eyebrow, “And where is this portrait now?”

Your gaze drops to the table, your eyes blazing right into the worn wood, so marred and aged, unlike the one at Zabini Manor.

“Gone, then? I don’t know how I’m supposed to be of help in that case.” You raise your eyes and meet his cold gaze, clenching your jaw at his stoic expression, “You both can stay the night in the basement, for the sake of doing an old friend a favor. I expect you to be gone by daylight, tomorrow.”

Without pause, Anders pushes himself off the chair and limps further into the house, leaving you to awkwardly stew in your rejection while his son and Luna linger behind you.

Anders’ son breaks the tense silence first, “Sorry about him, he’s…”

“Stubborn?” Luna offers.

“Honest.” You reply at the same time.

Whirling around in your seat, you will away the veil of exhaustion and hurt that clouded your mind and look up at Anders’ son, really seeing him for the first time. You see the resemblance between the both of them, from their narrowed eyes to their thin noses, and the unmistakable metallic chill engulfed in both of their magic.

Slowly rising from your seat, you send a fleeting smile to the boy, “Don’t believe we know your name.”

“Asger,” His tone is much less taut than before, from pity or understanding, you didn’t know.

“Nice to meet you, and thanks.”

The boy–Asger, waves off your thanks and simply juts his shoulder forward, silently telling you to follow him. Feeling all of your survival instincts switch off, you tread behind him with glassy eyes, barely aware of your surroundings even when Luna tucks her arm around your body, guiding you around the unfamiliar environment.

It appeared that Anders utilized his magical prowess and performed a disappearing act by the time you reached the basement, the older man being nowhere in sight despite the fact that there was only one door in the back of the house–which led to the basement.

You and Luna got settled in, not bothered by the loose threads of your blankets or the dusty boxes that rested against the walls. You were both given a (surprisingly) comfortable mattress to share, and you almost wanted to cry when Luna started to draw patterns on your palm as you both stared up at the spackled ceiling.

“Our journey has not ended yet,” Luna’s voice is small, but still fueled with conviction.

“Thanks, Luna. I don’t even know where I’d be without you.”

A comfortable silence descends upon you two, and you shift to get comfortable in your spot, realizing that Blaise’s overcoat was making it difficult to turn over. Slowly sitting up, you shrug off the thick material, and fix your jacket, realizing it was slightly askew from your movements. As you smooth down the material, you freeze as your hand moves over a thick bulk in your inner pocket.

Portrait…?

No. Of course not.

Ignoring the cold sinking of your stomach, you fish out the object and search blindly for your wand.

“Lumos.”

Your breath hitches.

Regulus’ journal. The one you found stuffed between his mattresses. Swallowing harshly, you slowly run a hand over the wrinkled cover.

How could you have forgotten?

As you try to maneuver your wand to allow both of your hands to be free, a gentle tug has you swiveling your head to the side. Luna merely smiles at you before looking back at the journal, nimbly holding your wand over the book so you could flip through it.

“I can look away if you want,” Luna’s gentle voice slices through the air with a warmth that you viscerally feel in your chest, and you smile at the girl in gratitude. As she turns her gaze to the darkness, seemingly becoming entranced by nothingness, you slowly furl the first pages open.

Property of Regulus Arcturus Black

You turn the page, fingers twitching as you resist the temptation to trace the swirls of his name.

3 November, 1976

Today is Sirius’ birthday. The first year he will celebrate away from home, as a disappointment to the family name. Mother and Father were particularly cold today. I just have to try harder. Sirius has stopped replying to my letters, and he avoids me in the halls.

I think I hate him.

Your heart pounds furiously in your chest as you reread the entry, struck by the unfamiliar loathing coated in his tone. Sirius was sixteen when he left, so seventeen in 1976. Regulus was only fifteen when he wrote this, and already so tied down by his family and abandonment issues.

The next few pages contain similar entries, all filled with abhorrence for Sirius and bitterness towards his parents.

Then the year changes.

8 September, 1978

The Dark Lord is going to change the world, make it a better, purer place. Mother and Father were pleased when I announced that I would be taking the mark soon, already having made strides among his growing forces.

Sirius would hate it. I know he would. But he would expect it. He should, anyway.

He already hates me, what damage could this do to our already broken relationship?

He should hate me.

I hate myself. I hate him.

I hate him so much.

17 December, 1978

Visiting my portrait was eventful. I can feel him growing stronger with every meeting. I think I’ll have to repaint it soon, looking at it and seeing a reflection of who I used to be never gets easier.

The next repaint, I’m going to finally do it. Hopefully, all my research will have paid off. Uncle Alphard’s book on magical essences was more helpful than I could have ever imagined.

The room is complete, and I can feel my magic all over it. If I can imbue it into my portrait as well, it will be perfect.

Maybe then he can forgive me. If I explain. If I try.

The Dark Lord is expecting me soon.

3 January, 1979

The repainting was a success. My hand will be sore for the next few days, but it was all worth it. I finally figured out how to key the room. The only person who will be able to access it now is Sirius. That is if he ever returns home.

My portrait is so like me, it’s truly uncanny. Perhaps I can publish my findings after I graduate.

My mark aches often.

I miss Sirius.

5 March, 1979

The Dark Lord tried to kill Kreacher.

After everything I’ve done for him. After everything I’ve sacrificed.

Sirius was right.

Kreacher keeps talking about a potion and a locket. I need to understand. I have to.

It is imperative that I impart everything I know to my portrait, so Sirius will know that I tried. That I finally understand.

Is this my punishment? Must I suffer so for forgiveness? If he does not forgive me, will it all have been for nothing?

I need to find out what the Dark Lord is hiding. It will be my repentance.

19 May, 1979

Horcruxes.

Such vile creations, a defiling of one’s soul. The Dark Lord has a horcrux. I need to destroy it.

My portrait grows restless with me. To think it was even possible. He only has the faintest ideas of my current ambitions, but I feel everyday that he is growing to be someone I never could be. Someone that Sirius would be able to forgive.

I’ll destroy the horcrux and accept the conditions tied to it.

There is no other way.

8 June, 1979

Everyday I grow closer to executing my plan.

I have given my portrait everything he needs to know.

I wonder, is all soul magic as abominable as horcruxes? I begin to see parallels with magical essences and soul magic. Yet, they feel completely different.

Or perhaps I have finally lost all sense. I have always been a hypocrite.

I wait with bated breath.

I will destroy it even if it kills me, and it will be glorious.

28 July, 1979

I fear that if I wait any longer I will go back on my conviction.

Mother and Father are growing increasingly vexed with me. I think they want to marry me off by winter.

It will be before then.

I have stopped confiding in my portrait about my deeper feelings. I fear that my weakness will be obvious even to him.

I have read more about magical essences to distract myself. Even the Dark Lord is not omniscient. Magical essences have ties to one’s soul, the bounds of such revelation I do not know. Yet, I have learned of something even the Dark Lord is ignorant to, and because of that, he has debased himself with horcruxes.

A small victory, and an inkling of how it will feel when he’s gone.

When he falls.

14 August, 1979

I will do it in autumn.

I hope it will all be worth it.

26 October, 1979

My portrait can cast magic.

I wonder if Sirius will be proud.

29 October, 1979

I wonder what being in love feels like.

2 November, 1979

I never really had aspirations outside of what was expected of me.

Have I always been so pitiful? Was I the only one who couldn’t see it?

15 November, 1979

I hear that the Potters are expecting their first child.

I wonder how Sirius will treat their baby.

I think I’m going crazy.

17 November, 1979

Tomorrow.

You flip through the journal hastily, and you feel your eyes sting in the darkness at the crushing realization.

Blank pages. Empty and unfeeling, and so telling of his fate.

You weren’t going to leave tomorrow.

Anders would have to drag you kicking and screaming. You wouldn’t give up on Regulus, not after everything he sacrificed.

You will do whatever it takes.

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