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jamilelucato · 8 months

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possibility - fred weasley (part 2)

pairing: fred weasley x slytherin!reader

(part 01 here) (more HP fics here!)

summary: being friends with (y/n) has become Fred's biggest challenge.

note: They are in their last year at Hogwarts, so, for purposes, they are 18; besides, the whole canon of the book (it would've been Order of the Phoenix) is mostly nonexistent here.

the reader: can be interpreted as someone with ADHD; she loves literature and she has no friends.

words: 5000+

Enjoy!

Ginny Weasley was a charm, even at the young age of fifteen.

Being her older brothers around, Fred and George tried their best not to ignore her and make her feel welcomed and heard whenever needed. Most of the time, that was an easy task. But, now that she was getting older, it was harder to listen to her complaints.

“She had no right to say that to me!” she whined, angrily snorting. Her red hair moved with her face as she gestured. “She said it in front of Harry, for Godric’s sake!”

George immediately cast a sidelong glance at Fred. It was no secret that Ginny harboured a strong affection for Harry Potter; her infatuation was apparent to anyone with a Weasley surname, and it was common knowledge throughout Gryffindor House. Only Harry himself seemed oblivious to it. However, as Ginny grew older, her feelings seemed to intensify, and Fred frequently tuned her out, lost in his thoughts, while George assumed the role of counsellor. On that particular day, though, it appeared their roles had been reversed.

“Did he hear what she said?” George inquired gently, addressing his younger sister.

“I believe so,” Ginny responded, her voice lowering as she contemplated the encounter.

"Well, how did he react?" Fred leaned closer, although there was a table separating them from Ginny. The dinner table of Gryffindor was crowded with students, so leaning closer was needed for better hearing.

“He didn't,” Ginny replied, her tone a mixture of confusion and uncertainty. “He was with Hermione, and they were engrossed in their conversation. We exchanged glances, that's all.”

“Could it be possible he was simply aware of your presence and not actually listening to your conversation?” Fred suggested, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.

Ginny averted her gaze, reluctant to meet her older brother's eyes. “There's a chance,” she admitted, albeit reluctantly.

“So, he didn't really hear it," Fred remarked, leaning back slightly. “Potter’s a man. If he had heard something and something that involved his name, he would’ve reacted.”

George turned his head to face Fred. “All men, you reckon?”

“Absolutely,” Fred confirmed with a carefree shrug.

But George was out for blood.

“Let's say, for argument's sake, that (y/n) mentioned you. Would you turn to look and react?” George asked, instantly capturing Ginny's attention. She was well aware of (y/n), the enigmatic Slytherin who struggled to maintain friendships but seemed to have formed a unique bond with Fred.

“Sure,” Fred replied, not realising the mischief in his twin's eyes. “I mean, it depends on what she'd be saying about me.”

“Does it really matter?” Ginny chimed in.

“It doesn't,” George answered his sister, then returned to Fred. “But how would you respond to her?”

“She's my friend, Georgie,” Fred teased affectionately, using his twin's nickname. “I'd man up and approach her, saying something like ‘hey, what were you saying about me?’ and get it over with.”

“Get what over with?” Ginny prodded, leaning in closer to Fred.

“Probably turning that friendship into a relationship,” George answered instead of Fred. “I mean, if he were to really man up.”

Fred jabbed his twin with playful force, feeling irked by the insinuations.

“What's wrong with (y/n) and I just being friends?” Fred retorted defensively.

“Nothing,” George shrugged nonchalantly. “She's my friend, too,” he pointed out, “but I don’t dream in my sleep with her doing stuff to me in bed.”

This time, Fred slapped his twin's arm more forcefully. “I've never had a dream about her!”

Ginny burst into laughter, feeling fortunate to sit beside her brothers during this comical exchange.

“You've dreamt about (y/n)?” she asked, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. “What was she doing in your dream? Kissing?” Ginny lowered her voice, casting furtive glances around the room before adding, “Or something more?”

Fred tried to brush off Ginny's teasing with a dismissive wave of his hand despite the hints of a crimson blush creeping onto his freckled cheeks. He shook his head and muttered something about dreams and absurd fantasies.

Ginny and George exchanged a knowing look before George leaned closer to his twin. “Fred, I've known you my entire life, and I can read you like an open book,” he began in a hushed tone. “You're smitten with (y/n).”

Despite his attempts to appear composed, Fred couldn't help but squirm in his seat. “That's nonsense, George. She's just a friend, and I don't think of her that way.”

Ginny chimed in with a playful grin. “Oh, come on, Fred. We've all seen the way you look at her. It's like you're under some kind of love spell.”

Fred glanced around the bustling Great Hall, feeling the weight of the conversation. He had a reputation to uphold, which included being a mischievous troublemaker and a skilled prankster. The idea of admitting his feelings for (y/n) went against the grain of his carefree image. Besides whatever those “feelings” were, they were more complicated than he wanted to admit.

Instead of confessing his feelings, Fred squared his shoulders and made a decision.

“(y/n), she’s a tough lass,” he started saying, “I'm not going to pursue her romantically. I don't want to complicate things for her.”

Ginny and George shared another look, this time tinged with surprise. Fred was known for his mischievous tendencies but rarely showed such maturity and thoughtfulness.

“What are you going to do, then?” Ginny asked, intrigued by her older brother's newfound wisdom.

Fred flashed a determined smile. “I want to show her she can have genuine friendships, so that’s what I’ll be for her, no matter what.”

Ginny exchanged a glance with George, both impressed and proud of the transformation they had witnessed in their older brother.

“That’s actually… very nice of you, brother,” Ginny said, choked with herself for ever uttering those words.

“Thank you,” Fred shook his head down.

It was a well-known fact that (y/n) struggled to form connections with her peers. While she often blended into the background amidst bustling classrooms and boisterous mealtimes, those who paid attention could discern that, in the end, (y/n) was very much alone. Fred just hoped she wasn’t lonely, too.

And if she was (and, let’s face it, if he were to bet, that would be his horse), he would be her friendly shoulder. Perhaps with his initiative, she would open up to have other friends. But that would sadly mean he should suppress those dangerous feelings (and dreams) about her. He understood that showing romantic interest might deter her from nurturing other friendships or, worse, create an unhealthy dependency on him.

While many boys at Hogwarts might desire such unwavering devotion, Fred cherished his freedom and wanted the same for (y/n). He believed that, given the chance, she too could revel in the joy of genuine friendships.

She could feel his penetrating gaze like a warm breeze brushing the back of her neck. It was a peculiar sensation. Since she had unofficially accepted the title of “Fred Weasley's friend,” (y/n) had begun experiencing inexplicable emotions regarding him.

Sensing his eyes on her was just one of her peculiar talents. Her personal favourite was her knack for anticipating pranks by the twins; her gaze would instinctively find its way to the impending victim.

Leaving her Slytherin common room, she hadn't expected to encounter Fred. However, when she turned around, hoping to spot him, he was nowhere to be seen.

“Odd,” she thought, clutching her book closer to her chest. It wasn't a hefty tome; it was, in fact, a notebook where she jotted down ideas and penned the initial versions of scenes that might one day become her debut novel.

While the underwater ambience of the Slytherin common room often served as a wellspring of inspiration, that day seemed to be an exception. Hence, (y/n) had decided to grab her notebook and her trusty pen (yes, a pen; she staunchly refused to compose her muggle-inspired stories with a quill and inkwell) and head to the Quidditch pitch in search of inspiration.

During free periods or after classes, Quidditch practices were almost always happening. (y/n) hoped to find an eager and spirited team on the field to keep her writing juices flowing.

She dared to look around again before abandoning the idea that Fred Weasley was following her. So, confirming the absence of red hair, she resumed her pace.

To her relief, the Quidditch pitch was packed with a team of blue shirts. Ravenclaws weren't known for their blood on the field, not as much as Gryffindors or Hufflepuffs, but they would suffice. (y/n) selected a spot in the bleachers, tucked away in a corner high enough to observe everything but hidden from the spotlight. A few people were around, mostly students, but not in uniform, so she couldn't tell if they were opponents watching the Ravenclaws train or just supportive friends.

As she settled in, she opened her notebook, placing it on her lap, ready to transcribe the imaginary world blossoming in her mind. The words flowed effortlessly from her pen, her gaze seldom shifting from the training session. The sounds of players in action served as the ideal backdrop to her writing.

Without her realising it, the scene had shifted from focusing on battle, blows and gushing blood to an intimate moment between nameless protagonists. (y/n) had yet to fully develop their backstory, but they always made their presence known when she ventured into the realm of fairies: a tall, strong lad and a quick-witted young lady.

In the scene she was crafting, they bid each other farewell before venturing into an ongoing battle. Although their words hinted at sadness, they teased one another playfully, creating a certain ambivalence that (y/n) found challenging to convey.

She had just finished writing down the boy's response when a voice behind her remarked, “I'd change that. No battle-hardened lad would utter something so… girlish.”

(y/n) didn't even flinch. She had sensed Fred Weasley's presence earlier, and his sudden appearance was merely confirmation that she wasn't descending into madness or becoming paranoid. She felt a flicker of annoyance at the idea that he had been peeking at her notes, but with no Time-Turner to reverse the situation, she decided to take his opinion on board. Fred's perspective on how a boy would speak could enrich her literary endeavour.

“Hello, Weasley," she greeted him, her eyes on him as he gracefully hopped from the seat behind her to the vacant one beside her.

Fred, however, didn't offer a greeting in return. “Why are you here?” he cut right to the chase.

With a casual shrug, she answered, “Felt uninspired in my common room.” She closed her notebook, a sense of finality in the gesture.

“Of course you did,” he quipped with bitterness. “That place stinks of rich kids and Death Eaters.”

Rolling her eyes, (y/n) couldn't help but feel a tinge of exasperation.

Fred had a peculiar tendency to launch into rants about the Slytherin House, a habit she never entirely understood. She was, without a doubt, a Slytherin through and through. She couldn't imagine belonging to any other house. Ambition coursed through her veins in her academic pursuits and aspirations for a successful writing career. Loyalty to her family was non-negotiable, and luckily for her, her parents weren't affiliated with the Dark Lord, making it easy to stay loyal to them.

In fact, she'd once pointed out to Fred that he'd make a perfect Slytherin himself. His ambitions were evident, especially with the joke shop he and George planned to open. His loyalty to his family, a prominent trait he shared with most Slytherins, was equally unmistakable. His lineage was as pure as anyone's at Hogwarts, if not more so. Her own mother was a half-blood witch. Yet, when she suggested this to him, he'd responded cheeky. “But red is my colour,” he'd declared, putting an end to their discussion.

“Actually,” (y/n) retorted, returning her focus to the ongoing discussion, “Slytherin’s dorms are very inspiring. But not to a battle scene; for that, I needed the smell of sweaty and strategy.”

Fred raised an eyebrow, suggesting that he found her comment rather amusing. “Leave it to the Ravenclaws to provide the strategy, eh?”

Not having an immediate response, (y/n) fell into a contemplative silence. Her eyes remained fixed on the Quidditch field, where the apparent captain of the team was engaging in a heated exchange with one of the beaters.

“So, about your writing,” Fred spoke softly, as if dipping his toes into uncertain waters, “I like it.”

Her gaze snapped to the red-haired boy, curiosity brimming in her eyes. She was always eager to hear both compliments and critiques of her work. To her, praise was uplifting, but constructive criticism was pure gold. She wondered what else he had to say.

“The battle scene sounds absolutely brilliant,” he continued as if reading her unspoken query. “Although I must admit, I missed a few lines; you write too fast, and your cursive is kind of weird.”

(y/n) showed her teeth in embarrassment. She was not used to being complimented about her cursive handwriting, so it wasn’t a surprise that Fred complained about it, but it was still embarrassing to hear about it, especially from a boy with no better penmanship.

“But you had one more complaint,” she reminded him, noticing Fred was silent.

He gulped, swallowing dry and hard.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “The lad there. You don’t know your men.”

“Excuse me?” (y/n) raised her eyebrows, and her voice unintentionally rose in volume.

Fred quickly raised his hands, a peace offering, his intent clearly non-confrontational. (y/n) relaxed a bit, realising she'd somewhat overreacted.

“Did you ever pay attention to how I talk? Or George or Lee?” Fred asked, turning his knees towards hers. Thanks to their sitting position, he towered over her, but less than usual.

Since she'd accepted her friendship with Fred, she'd inevitably become acquainted with the others in his circle, including Lee Jordan.

“Listen,” Fred sighed, “most men aren't as eloquent as your character. They tend to be a bit more straightforward. Your 'lad' speaks in a way that's... well, a bit flowery.”

“He��s, like, from the sixteenth century,” (y/n) pointed out, defending her nameless protagonist.

“Right,” Fred said, tilting his head. “But that doesn’t actually change anything. No men would say,” and at that, he reached for her notebook without asking permission and opened it to the exact page she had been writing on. “No men would say, ‘I shall miss your sunkissed voice if this ends badly’.”

Placing her hands on her hips, (y/n) arched an eyebrow. “So, how would you put it, then?”

Fred pondered the question, trying to envision the moment in (y/n)'s book. He was not a writer and lacked the skills to be an actor, so he had to re-read the scene to know the rightful reply. He looked back down at the page before returning his gaze to her.

“Don't die,” he suggested, playing the character so well, lowering his tone to sound charming and seductive.

Unfortunately, for (y/n), her heart did a somersault in response. The scene Fred had just read involved the characters' parting words, and the simplicity of “Don't die” carried a powerful weight. It conveyed the protagonist's profound desire for his female counterpart to survive, for her loss would leave a void that could never be filled. The moment's essence was encapsulated in those two words, and Fred had delivered them perfectly.

Not that (y/n) had been planning to meet an untimely end anytime soon, but after Fred's persuasive delivery, she found herself inclined to postpone any thoughts of it indefinitely.

Observing that she hadn't averted her gaze from his eyes and noting the rapid rise and fall of her chest, (y/n) decided to seize the book from his hand swiftly.

“That was ridiculous,” she remarked, attempting to dissipate the moment's intensity with humour.

“That's how I would say it,” Fred nonchalantly shrugged, retracting his knees from their near-contact and turning his attention back to the Quidditch field.

“And who told you my protagonist is based on you, Weasley?” she quipped, tilting her head and arching an eyebrow.

Instead of being hurt by her tone of voice — this was the reaction she anticipated and expected and perhaps wanted — Fred smiled teasingly.

"Well, if you create a character described as handsome, muscular, silky-haired, and unmistakably tall, it's quite obvious to any reader that it's me," he retorted playfully.

Her mouth fell open in mock astonishment at his audacity. With an exaggerated flourish, she dropped the book onto her lap.

“And, of course, you're the female protagonist,” he continued, his smirk growing wider. “Hot-headed and cranky, who else could it be?”

(y/n)'s face contorted into a permanent grimace.

“(y/n), are you writing a fanfic about us?” he inquired, leaning closer into her personal space.

That was the final straw. (y/n) propelled herself to her feet, fueled by her irritation and fixed Fred with an accusatory finger.

“Listen here, Fred. The day I write a book about us, you can call me insane.”

Fred chuckled heartily, clearly relishing her reactions. (y/n) couldn't fathom why he found it all so amusing. Her book centred around fairies battling to regain political power; it had nothing to do with their personal lives. Fred was the one acting irrationally, suggesting it was some sort of “fanfic” and daring to entertain the notion that she would include flattering descriptions of him within the story.

If what he suspected were true, that she harboured a crush on him, then he shouldn't have found the idea humorous. Even if it were indeed fiction, he should have been repelled. (y/n) couldn't help but think that he might be secretly pleased with the notion, which irked her further. She didn't have a crush on him!

She turned on her heel with an exasperated huff and stormed away from the bleachers. However, just before she could escape earshot, she heard Fred's voice, laced with a hint of melody.

“Don't dieee!”

She was on the Quidditch pitch stands again. Only this time, there was an actual match on the field, not just a training session.

The Slytherin team zipped through the air on their latest-generation broomsticks, an annual tradition courtesy of Draco Malfoy's father. They faced off against Gryffindor, known for its fiercely competitive players. Whenever the green and red houses clashed, it was always a breathtaking spectacle.

(y/n) was gladly sitting next to Lee Jordan, narrating the game animatedly. Even when the Slytherins executed brilliant plays, his narration remained spirited. He occasionally mumbled comments about some Slytherin players but also praised them when deserved.

Only three days had passed since Fred Weasley had playfully accused her of basing her book's protagonist on him. Since then, they had seen each other and talked, but the book's topic hadn't resurfaced.

“Wow!” Lee's voice broke her concentration. “The Slytherins are really going after our beaters! I mean, sorry, they're going after the Gryffindor beaters!”

Engrossed in the match, (y/n) confirmed Lee's observation. The Slytherin beaters were prioritising targeting the Gryffindor beaters over the usual strategy of interfering with the opposing Seeker. (y/n) knew little about Quidditch's strategy, so she couldn't discern whether this was a wise move by her fellow Slytherins. However, she grew concerned for the Gryffindor beaters, who happened to be Fred and George.

She rose from her seat, her eyes following the twins' every move.

“The crowd is getting worried!” Lee Jordan's voice resonated, and (y/n) turned to face him. He raised his shoulders innocently as if to say he was just calling it as he saw it. Before she could reprimand him, Lee resumed narrating the game. “Oh, no! They're targeting Fred Weasley. Both beaters against one guy; not fair!”

Fred Weasley's name caused (y/n) to search the sky anxiously, her eyes scanning the field for his broom. The atmosphere was tense. She had attended the match in neutral black attire and sat beside Lee, determined not to favour any team. Although she had recently become acquainted with half of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, she couldn't help but feel allegiance to her house. Despite her intentions, the sight of Fred being targeted stirred worry within her. She left Lee's side and hurried down the bleacher stairs, seeking a better vantage point of the unfolding events on the pitch.

“And Fred's been hit! Fred Weasley is hit. Was it fair?” Lee's voice reached her ears as she made her way down. “Oh, I see. Oliver Wood, Gryffindor’s captain, is asking for a break, a time-out. Let’s give them ten minutes to regroup. We'll be back shortly.”

(y/n) turned back against the field and found Lee’s eyes through the crowd. She was grateful for the encouragement he silently offered with a nod. It was the nudge she needed to practically leap down the remainder of the bleacher steps, racing toward the Gryffindor Changing Room.

Luckily for her, the stands were consistently high, so in the actual field, there was nobody. She quickly reached the right spot but hesitated behind the curtain doors, listening intently. Oliver was addressing the team, urging them to regain their focus. Harry only needed to catch the Golden Snitch, and with Oliver as the Keeper, they would fend off the Slytherins from scoring further.

Summoning her courage, (y/n) poked her head through the curtain doors.

“Fred?” she murmured, but her voice carried to all the players.

(y/n) saw Fred, all sweaty, squeezing a water container over his face, drinking only half of it. “(y/n)?” he asked, confused by her presence.

She took the opportunity to step fully into the Changing Room. The other players exchanged knowing glances but remained silent; they understood she wasn't an enemy. (y/n) had interacted with Oliver, Angelina, and, of course, Harry Potter himself. Their glances spoke more of intrigue as if they were silently questioning the stage of her relationship with Fred.

Fred handed his now-empty water bottle to George, who appeared equally puzzled about what to do with it. Fred then retrieved his bat from the floor and approached (y/n), who remained fixed in her spot, somewhat intimidated by her unfamiliar surroundings.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her worry palpable. “Are you hurt?”

Fred kept moving closer. “I'm fine,” he assured her.

She nodded, darting over Fred’s shoulder, peeking at George. “And you, George? Are you alright?”

George nodded affirmatively just as Oliver cleared his throat.

“Well, let's regroup outside,” Oliver instructed the team. With that, the players rose from their seats in a flash.

They left the Changing Room, leaving only Fred behind, and George was the last one to go, for he lingered a bit, moving with deliberate slowness. His eyes remained fixed on Fred and (y/n), and as the others filed out, it became evident that Oliver had called them out to grant the pair some much-needed privacy.

As the room emptied, (y/n) seized the chance to scrutinise Fred's face. The water had washed away the grime, revealing his striking features. He looked almost dishevelled, his heart beating fast, and a rosy hue tinged his cheeks. His damp hair was in complete disarray, the ends defiantly pointing in all directions. He seemed to sense her gaze on his unruly locks and ran a hand through them to tame them, achieving only partial success.

“Are you sure you're okay?” Her voice was soft, carrying genuine concern as she narrowed the gap between them, her fingertips yearning to touch Fred's face. “Lee mentioned you got hit.”

Her gentle touch seemed to kindle a fire within Fred. His face flushed, and he stuttered slightly, turning his head to the right when she reached for him.

“Where did the Bludger hit you?” she inquired, studying his face for any signs of injury. His features appeared unscathed, although his cheeks radiated with warmth.

“It grazed my right ear,” he replied, and she instinctively turned his face further to examine the ear. It was only slightly reddened, no worse than the rest of his face.

“I'm sorry they're targeting you,” she uttered with a slow breath, her concern deepening. Her hands left his face, but Fred turned his chin to face her.

“It's part of the game,” Fred shrugged.

Fred had never seen (y/n) like this before. After weeks of their friendship, this was the first time he had witnessed her express genuine concern.

“I know,” she sighed. “That doesn’t mean it’s fair. Or easy to watch.”

“It’s not a battle,” he noted, gingerly alluding to her book. “No one’s gonna die.”

“But some are going to get hurt,” she stated, her gaze fixed on his ear, her worry etched across her features.

Fred loomed over her, his taller stature requiring her to tilt her head upward to meet his eyes and see his facial expressions. Usually, she appreciated that he was taller, but at that moment, it seemed to create an unwelcome distance.

An unspoken question lingered in (y/n)’s mind: What was she doing there? Why had she hurried to the Changing Room?

“Well,” she cleared her throat, avoiding his gaze, “if you're okay, then I should head back. You know, to watch you win or whatever.”

He smiled at her awkwardness, a not uncommon sight when it came to (y/n). He'd witnessed her awkwardness before, often finding it endearing. She sometimes struggled with conversation, especially with other people, leading to uncertain moments. Fred couldn't help but find those moments rather cute.

“You're not cheering for your own house?” he inquired, the corners of his mouth hinting at an impending smirk.

She pressed the inner corner of her mouth with her teeth, pondering her response. “Not when they're being unfair.”

“Three days ago, I swear you wouldn't have said it's unfair if they were targeting me,” he finally allowed that smirk to surface. It was the second subtle reference to her book, or at least a hint at that day, making (y/n) shy.

“Sometimes I want to hit you, Weasley,” she teased, her tone playful despite her lingering concern.

Fred chuckled, closing the distance between them, if that was even possible.

“Do it,” he taunted, his eyes dancing mischievously.

Her gaze met his, and she couldn't help but wonder if he was genuinely asking for it. She certainly had her reasons to want to hit him. First, for teasing her relentlessly. Second, for insisting on being her friend. Third, for involving her with all of his other friends. And now, that — whatever that was. She was eager to touch him, just not to do it in the form of a slap.

Something else fluttered in her stomach, and she hated it, and she hated Fred for it.

“Come on, (y/n),” he teased again, his smirk widening.

Her frustration reached its peak. How dare he jest with her after all the concern she had shown? She had never rushed to find someone before and loathed how unappreciative he seemed.

Without thinking, (y/n) closed the distance between them. Not with a slap, as Fred had half-expected, but with a kiss. It was so swift that Fred barely registered it until he felt her cool lips against his warm ones. A sigh escaped her as she realised he wasn't pushing her away.

And how could he? Fred had yearned for this moment for so long, through countless sleepless nights, because sleep meant dreams, and every dream was about her. Whether he imagined (y/n) seeking help with a prank and then kissing him, or (y/n) struggling with grades and asking for comfort through a kiss, or even the most sensual dreams where she broke into his Gryffindor dorm room wearing nothing but her panties.

Whatever had prompted (y/n) to kiss him, Fred was beyond caring. He hoped she wouldn't stop. He abandoned his mantra of ignoring his romantic feelings for her, forgetting they were meant to be just friends.

Fred kissed her passionately, willingly, leaving his bat forgotten on the floor as he held her close. His hands found her waist, lifting her slightly, bringing her nearer as he devoured her lips.

For (y/n), it felt like paradise. She'd never been kissed before, though she had read about it. Still, she'd assumed a kiss was just lips meeting, nothing more. She hadn't expected her first kiss to be like a scene from a romance novel, but it was. She experienced everything the heroines in her favourite books described: a warmth that started low in her belly and surged upward, a desire to merge completely with Fred. She clutched his red hair as if her life depended on it as if she depended on him.

“Fred! Come on!” a voice from outside yelled so loudly that it snapped both of them back to reality.

Fred was in the middle of a Quidditch match, but somehow, he had just kissed (y/n).

Slowly, he released her, and she stared back at him, her face flushed a deep shade of red, much like his hair. Her hand reached for her own lips as if trying to comprehend that what had just happened was real. She had been kissed. By Fred Weasley.

“We have just a minute, Fred!” the voice shouted again, and this time, (y/n) realised it was Oliver Wood, their captain, yelling.

“I think you have to go,” she said, her voice slightly shaky.

Fred nodded, placing his hands on his hips.

“Like now, Freddie,” she added, and her raised eyebrows conveyed the situation's urgency.

He burst back to reality, hastily retrieving his bat from the floor. Rushing toward the curtained exit, he glanced back at her.

Did he really kiss his best friend when he swore he wouldn’t?

They shared a glance. He would have to be content with that one kiss, for he could never pursue anything more if he wanted (y/n) to maintain her friendships because she was now finally opening up for that possibility.

“Don't die,” she murmured, her tone serious, but a laugh escaped her as she made the witty remark.

Finally, he left the Changing Room. For if he stayed any longer, he feared he would have to kiss her laughter away from her lips.

#fred weasley #harry potter #george weasley #fred and george #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley x slytherin reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x reader

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itsprashimusic · 9 months

Text

'I got it! I got it!!!!'

Pairings - Avengers x platonic!gn!Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary - It is team bonding time! This time the avengers are playing cricket on a Sunday afternoon. Just some fun and chaotic times. And somehow you ended up on a date with Steve.

Warnings - swear words, reader is 25/26 years old, the reader ogling steve (and bucky, like once), steve kinda ogling reader😉, reader takes their top off (girls don't worry, you can imagine them with a tank top on underneath), reader's got some rizz, descriptions of a broken nose?, no they do not end up kissing. NOT FULLY PROOFREAD.

Word Count - 3.6k

A/N - this is an au where everyone lives and a few of the newer characters are introduced, also for the sake of this fic let's pretend that cricket was popular in the US in the 40s. This ended up being more of a Steve x reader towards the end. though i tried to include the avengers as much as i could.

sidenote - if you're reading this as a guy and are not into guys, i apologize cause the reader and steve act flirty w/ each other in this. you may very well skip this fic if you wish.

It was a warm afternoon. The kind that either made you want to cozy up in bed for hours or go for a walk outside, each option depending on person to person. Although you wanted to do the former, Steve and Tony decided it was perfect weather to spend some team bonding time.

Even though the sun was out, and you wanted to stay in, you soon forgot about all your earlier protests of it being too hot and you wanting to finish a book you were reading, when the playing actually started, and your slight competitive nature came out.

So here you were, 45 minutes into the game, covered completely in sweat but still having the time of your life. It was probably no surprise when the two teams formed were namely Team Cap and Team Ironman. When you heard the names the teams you face-palmed yourself, but then again it was Tony who suggested the names.

Under team Cap came of course the Captain himself, Steve 'America's Ass' Rogers, the most likely vice-captain, Sam Wilson, the one who was forced to play to get 'social time', Mr. Bucky Barnes, the one who was excited to play because she played it with her brother and their friends when they were younger, Wanda Maximoff, the one who was excited just to be included in team bonding, Kate 'Clumsy' Bishop, the one who was over-the-top joyful to be there, Thor Odinson, and the little one who wanted to join his mom, Billy 'Mama's boy' Maximoff.

Under team Ironman was the self-proclaimed captain, Tony 'Showoff' Stark, the levelheaded one who is actually the captain, Natasha Romanoff, the one who doesn't know what to do but will gladly join for the fun, Vision, the one who is excited for no apparent reason, Peter 'I will not fail you Mr. Stark' Parker, the one who will be kicked off the team if he uses his powers, Pietro Maximoff, the other little one who wanted to play with his dad and (real) uncle, Tommy 'I'm the faster twin' Maximoff, and the one who would've preferred to stay inside but was dragged to play, one Y/N Y/L/N.

Playing the role of the umpire to this game was Rhodey, and bless this man's soul of being able to have patience with the Earth's Rowdiest Mightiest Heros, cause the game was just chaos entirely.

Team Ironman was batting first. The first ones up were Peter and Vision. "Remember keep a firm grip on the bat! We don't want it flying like last time!" Tony was yelling from the sidelines as Peter was readjusting the bat in his grip. At the same time Tommy was cheering on his dad with a "You got this dad! We can beat mom's team!" which was honestly really cute.

Where normal matches would've had 20 overs, the Avengers decided on having just 10. After confirming Peter was ready, Sam took a bit of a running start before throwing the ball. Keeping his eye trained on the ball Peter swung his bat hard, only to have it be flung over 25 yards (roughly 22 meters) from his hands. Just as Peter's hands immediately go to cover his face in embarrassment, Tony's hand ran down his face in frustration. "This is just what I told you not to do kid," Tony said while shaking his head, then turning to look at you he said, "Can you believe this kid?" "Nope, but you still love him" you responded.

"That I do"

Once Wanda returned the bat to Peter, the game resumed, and this time Peter actually held on to the bat and hit the ball scoring a 4. Nice. After another hit done by Peter, it was Vision's turn. He turned out to be surprisingly good at this game despite it being his very first time. Two balls later and Peter was out. Next came in Tommy and to make it a little easier for him to hit the ball it was Billy who would be throwing them for his twin. It was adorable watching the kids play along with their father like that. A sight like this was rare at the Avengers Compound lately. But sadly, Tommy too got out and had to leave. Next up was you along with Vision, who was surprisingly holding his own pretty well.

After promising Tony for the 100th time that the bat would not fling out of your grasp, you finally got to play. Your start was not that strong, but after a couple of balls you were getting better. Because you and Vis were both good players, Rhodey agreed to give you a tougher bowler. So instead of having Kate bowl, it was now Steve. And good god was this man frustratingly good at cricket. He was really making it hard for the two of you.

"Hey Rogers, mind making it easier for us here? It's kinda hard to hit a ball with you throwing it so fast," you said after completing a run.

"Kinda the entire point of me throwing them, sweetheart. Kate was making it easy for you." damn Steve and his constant use of nicknames. OK WE'RE GOING OFF TRACK. Steve took his stance again and began jogging. Your eyes followed his thighs as he stood and started jogging towards you...putting it plainly you were distracted. He threw the ball, which came hurling at you at lightning speed. You somehow managed to hit it, only for Kate, out of all of them, to catch it mid-air. Sighing in defeat, you made your way back to the bleachers handing the bat over to Pietro.

"You did good kid. Out of all of them, I think you've played the best." Tony said pulling you into a side-hug.

"Really?". Tony nods his head.

"You're on my team, and let's be honest, a Stark's choices tend to be the best."

"Next thing you know, Morgan will be using that when she brings a boy over," you say with a chuckle. To which Tony replies, "There's still time for that, she's not growing up that quick." he said more to himself that anyone. You nodded your head, stifling a laugh while Tony brought you in for a side hug. "Looks like Maximoff's out. Red, you're up."

It was now down to their last two players. Nat went up to the pitch that had been created by pulling out the grass. You see, when it's the Avengers playing, they don't care about safety equipment. Only the two kids were wearing knee pads and a helmet. But other than that, nobody was wearing something that would protect themselves. And that would make a clear path for some accidents to make themselves home.

Thor was bowling when Nat joined. "Alright, let's do this!" he exclaimed with a lot of enthusiasm. First missed red flag. Thor insisted on not doing what he called the 'pathetic little run'. He said he'd be fine without it. He took his place while Nat took her stance holding a bat that was a bit too heavy for her. It was meant to be used only by Peter, as he was physically stronger than the others on his team

Second missed red flag.

Thor threw the ball. Nat swung her bat hitting the ball, but not without hurting her wrist with the weight of the bat. But being the trained ex-assassin that she is, her face remained neutral. Hence why no one could tell she was in pain and continued the game.

After completing 2 runs Nat took her stance again. Thor was holding the ball in his hand, tossing it and catching it. When the average person plays cricket, they would normally use either a rubber ball or a much softer yellow tennis ball. But the Avengers are not normal. When Tony ordered the kit online, he didn't realize that he ordered the Season Kit. THIRD MISSED RED FLAG!

The ball that Thor was playing around with was a season ball, a ball much heavier than a rubber ball and much harder than a tennis ball. And in all his excitement, he one: got too into the game and two: forgot to check whether Nat was ready.

She wasn't.

He threw the ball at her without warning. She was not expecting it and it hit her in the face, hard. So now not only was Nat's wrist injured, but she almost definitely had a broken nose. When her wrist got injured, she acted as if nothing happened. But when the ball made contact with her face a loud squeal was heard from her.

Because of how rare it is to hear such a sound come from the world-famous widow, almost everyone ran to her the second her hands flew to her face. Tony's 'we are gonna win' smirk dropped from his face and his legs started moving forward.

"Ow. Tony what the hell is that ball made of?" Nat yelled when she saw him, sending him a terrifying glare. Rushing towards Nat, you knelt down in front of her. Her hands and face were coated in blood. Everyone crowded around her while Peter took the bat from her. You had already taken your t-shirt off and started wiping the blood from her hands and face. Steve had come back with an ice pack.

Now, the team has seen you without a top on countless occasions. So did Steve. But that didn't stop him from staring at you, his jaw slightly dropped. Maybe because your muscles became more defined since the last time he saw you shirtless. You, of course, didn't notice it since your focus was on Nat.

"Thanks y/n/n" she said, sounding very nasally. Her nose really was broken. "Can someone get me to the bleachers?" Before you could react Sam effortlessly picked her up and carried her to the bleachers. Nat kept your shirt with her to absorb any more blood which dripped out of her nose. Steve had not moved from his place as his eyes followed you. Bucky came up behind him, smacked him in the back of his head, took the ice pack and walked away with an all-knowing smirk on his face.

Steve shook it off and walked up to where everyone was coddling Nat. You were next to the group of people already on the phone with Dr. Cho and in the other slightly bloodied hand you held a hand towel, wiping the sweat from the back of your neck. Quite a sight it was for the Captain who could not keep his eyes off of you, eyes following where the towel went to wipe up sweat. That earned him a quiet whistle from Bucky in his ear and a smirk from you who knew he was staring.

Once everyone finally left Natasha alone and in the care of Dr. Cho, team Ironman finished all of their overs (which meant that Tony was forced to play against his will) and it was team Cap's turn to bat. Peter had already offered you an extra t-shirt of his which he carried with him, and that made Steve a little jealous.

Most of the game went by soon. Turns out majority of team Cap were pretty weak batters. But then Sam came onto the scene, and everything changed. The only score he seemed to be getting were 4s and 6s. Thor got out pretty quickly. And in came Bucky Barnes. He and Sam were among the last players but were the strongest at the same time. The score team Cap had to beat was 104. It proved a bit hard in the beginning, but eventually got easier.

You were currently stuck playing wicket keeper. Originally Tony wanted Peter to do it, but Rhodey didn't allow it when he saw Peter had his webshooters with him. No one else wanted to be put in a crouched down position, and you were pretty good at catching things, so it ended up being your responsibility.

Because of the earlier batters being so sadly poor at the game, you were able to score 7 wickets by the time Sam came along. 3 more and you would win. Pietro was bowling, while Sam was batting. It was starting to get really hot, so much so that Bucky even lost his inseparable leather jacket, entire metal arm on display. A sight that got you staring for a few minutes until Tony cleared his throat catching your attention.

Pietro took a short jogging start and threw the ball. Sam hit it sending in far enough to be considered a six and took off running. You couldn't hear your own yelling over Steve's. His authoritative voice overtook yours as he yelled at Sam and Bucky to run faster. Not gonna lie, you found that hot. Peter yelled your name and threw the ball to you. You caught the ball and hit the wicket just as Bucky's bat made its ground. Everyone looked at Rhodey, "Safe". Rhodey had called that out when Steve started wolf-whistling. With wide eyes you turned around to look at him, just like everyone else.

"You might wanna save those sounds for later Cap" you say with a smirk, knowing exactly what Steve will say next.

"Oh, and what might 'later' entail?" he asks as you toss the ball over to Pietro. "Later entails me and you in a pool at sunset" you call over your shoulder with a wink. Steve's red face from running around earlier had cleared leaving him back to his normal shade, but a bright shade of scarlet started creeping up along his cheeks. Yep, you just got Captain America flustered. You heard Nat chuckling from the bleachers. Her nose was bandaged up and she came back to watch the match.

The plan was to play a sport during the afternoon and then spend time in a pool during sunset. Not just you and Steve but the entire team. Though, you knew them well, they all would probably make some sort of excuse to leave you and Steve alone.

There were a few more overs left now it was just Sam and Steve who were batting. The ball was thrown and just as Steve was about to hit it with his bat, you whistled loudly right in his ear. This caused him to lose focus and hit the ball wrongly. It also was the reason you got a disappointed look from Rhodey but a proud and approving one from Tony along with a thumbs-up.

The game continued and soon they were down to their final ball. the score was 100, 9 wickets. You called out to Steve, "Aye Cap, wanna bet? Loser has to buy the winner anything they want." Steve turned around to face you. With a smile on his face he said, "Sure. We beat the score, I win. You hit the wicket, or I miss somehow, you win." You nod your head and you both shake on the deal, "Though there will be a price limit of $200." you say.

The bowler got ready and started running. He threw the ball. Steve hit the ball. It bounced on the field. Peter caught it. He threw it to you. Steve saw it and had to make a sharp turn to dash back. You caught the ball. You hit the wicket. You yelled, excitement in your tone. Steve was looking down but there was a smile on his face. It didn't matter to him that his team lost the match or that he lost a bet, all that mattered to him was that there was a smile present on your face.

Peter came running over to you and you both collided in a hug with chirpy squeals. Everyone started shaking hands. You walked up to Tony, "I guess a Stark does make good choices after all." He pulled you into a side hug and said, "We do, but you are a hell of a player kid. Good job, you did well. Now go claim your prize, the captain is waiting." and he shooed you away with a wave of his hands.

Steve came up to you with a grin on his face and held out his hand for you to shake, which you took. "So, Rogers. Where are we going for dinner?" "Why would we be going for dinner?" "Because you have to buy me whatever I want and what I want is a date with you, tonight." Should you start a counter for how many times you got Captain America to blush? Because once again Steve's cheeks started to turn pink. "So, Cap, am I gonna get what I want?" "We did make bet, didn't we?"

Just as you had predicted earlier, everyone slowly started leaving so that it was just you and Steve alone in the pool, at sunset. The atmosphere was serene. Being tired from playing all afternoon you just sat in the jacuzzi next to Steve, head resting on his chest while his arm was holding you. When you first came out to pool where almost everyone was, he stopped to take a good look at you. He would rarely get to see you in your swimsuit. You had tied your hair up, not wanting to get it wet since you'd have to wash it and were frankly too tired to do so. But now the sun had set, and it was time for your and Steve's date. It felt like it had already started while at the pool, but you both agreed to have a casual date.

You dressed comfortable and wore slip-on shoes. Steve was waiting for you by his bike. Offering you a helmet he said, "Is there any food you are craving right now?" you answered no and put the helmet on. "Where are we going?" Steve didn't reply. All you saw was a smirk before he pushed his helmet visor down hiding his beautiful face. He was in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt which was probably too tight for him, not that you minded.

You moved to sit behind him on his bike, one hand around his waist while the other rested on his thigh. And the two of you were off. After a 20-minute-long windy journey Steve stopped the bike in front of a local burger joint. They were a bit on the pricey side, but their food was delicious. You both got off and got some food.

Back on the bike he drove to a secluded location and stopped. You got off once again but this time in a grassy area. Walking slowly, you looked up to admire the stars that were now visible in the sky, like freckles dusted on a person's face which enhances their beauty even more. Your eyes moved back down to Steve when he called out your name.

"A picnic at night?" you questioned with a smile, "Now that's not your average date." Walking closer to him he holds his hand out to you and gently pulls you to the ground next to him. You and Steve unwrap your food and eat in silence, the tiredness from the day catching up to you. Until you out of nowhere you perk up with a random question, "Have you ever drawn the night sky?"

He looks at you a bit confused. So, you try to clarify. "Like have you ever drawn the moon, the stars, a comet flying in the background, maybe the shadows of some Christmas trees and mountains?" He seems to be understanding what you mean and chews quickly to reply.

"Yes, I have. I was sitting at my window when I got hit with sudden inspiration and pulled out my sketchbook. That night I not only drew the sky, but I also drew a picture of a very beautiful star which I also saw from my window." "How do you draw a star? Especially one which you saw outside." you asked, your mouth full. That made Steve chuckle, even more so when you covered your mouth to chew, hiding your grin.

"It was easy," he said, leaning in a bit closer. "I drew you." This time it was not the captain who blushed, it was you. You could feel your cheeks slightly hot and faintly hurting. Since your hands were filled with food, you leaned forward rested your head on his chest with a soft thump.

You softly squealed into his chest which elicited a deep laugh from him, whose vibrations you could feel. You looked up at him and he pulled you closer with his free hand. "I draw you quite often. Every time I look at you, I feel inspired to draw your portrait and have the urge to frame it on my bedroom walls. My favourite picture of you that I have drawn it one where you are laughing. I added a flower to it, an amaryllis tucked behind your ear."

At this point you were just looking at him with utmost adoration. He was looking straight while talking but your eyes were glued to him and how he looked while talking about drawing you. When he finished and set his gaze back on you, the two ended up just looking at each other. The electricity could be felt and the urge to move up a little was there, it didn't feel like the right time, so you settled for tilting your forehead against his, noses touching.

The moment felt like it was going forever but eventually you both finished eating, packed up and drove back to the compound. He walked you to your room and just before leaving you he gave you a soft kiss on your cheek before bidding you goodnight. Just before he disappeared behind his own door you said, "I enjoyed spending time with you Steve. I wanna do it again."

"How about we make a bet?"

Rest assured you were squealing into your pillow for the rest of the night.

A/N- So after working on this forever (September 20, 2022) I have finally been able to post. I am in the middle of writing 4 different posts rn and have started exams (i have a paper in a few hours). Just wanted to gift my 60-something followers a fic so that they know I have not died.

Apologies if i accidentally mentioned any specific pronouns for the reader, please let me know if i do, i will make the changes.

#itsprashimusic #i got it! i got it! fic #avengers x reader #avengers x gn!reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x gn!reader #tony stark x reader #tony stark x platonic!reader #marvel x reader #mcu x reader #little sam x natasha going on in the background #james bucky barnes #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers #captain america #bucky barnes

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punkscowardschampions · 4 years

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Buster & Rio

Buster: [details of some party that they can go to because it's not someone he knows its more like a friend of a friend of so they can do what they want] Buster: I'll pick you up when you're ready Rio: Oh, I'm with Nancy rn Rio: think I might be in it for the long haul over here Buster: You've been there ages Rio: I know Rio: been a while, lots she wants to catch up on Rio: I can probably make it though, if I start politely getting ready to leave soon Buster: Where are you? Rio: at mine Rio: we went out shopping for a bit but now we're just chilling Buster: I'll tell her mum or dad are on the warpath, either's believable Buster: She'll be back before she realises they're working Rio: That's not very friendly, is it Buster: She's my sister, not my friend Rio: yeah but won't she wonder why you've tricked her Buster: She'll think I got it wrong, a common enough thought for her to have about me Buster: Who cares? Rio: I don't wanna be mean Buster: Don't then Buster: To me Buster: I haven't seen you all day Rio: Baby Rio: you know I wanna be with you Rio: let me get out of this my way though Buster: Alright Rio: I promise, it won't take that long Buster: You do know that unless you appear right now it's too long, yeah? Rio: Of course Rio: you know I missed you as much Rio: more, I think Buster: So prove it by getting rid of her Rio: I will Rio: it would've looked so suspect if I didn't spend any time with her Buster: Or like you've outgrown her which everyone wanted us to do with each other, therefore they'd have to be thrilled Rio: If everyone weren't massively hypocritical Rio: or her social life was a bit more robust in general Buster: Her lack of a social life is her own problem, not yours, babe Rio: not if I ditch her at the drop of a hat Rio: but I've worked it out Buster: Tell her to ditch her fringe and you'll be doing her such a big favour it'll cancel out the abrupt goodbye Rio: Stop 🤫 Rio: I'd almost forgot how rude you can be 🙄😏 Rio: I'm gonna have a fake argument with Dan that I'll 'need' to go and sort out Buster: It sounds good in theory but she'll probably try and convince you not to 'cause he's a man Rio: She can text me the TLDR of the gay agenda Rio: it'll be fine, less of a 😱 when I dump him later too Buster: Surprised you ain't had a real argument by now Buster: He's even more of a pussy than I thought Rio: He knows I'm busy with family still Buster: And those papers don't deliver themselves Rio: You're SO funny, babe Buster: Yeah, I know Buster: One of many talents Rio: I might rank it lower than some of your others Rio: but I still like ya Buster: Don't force yourself, like Rio: Come on Rio: what have you been doing today anyway? Buster: As the twin with a social life in each of our postcodes, I've been busy fulfilling those obligations Rio: See, you've been keeping busy too Rio: not even missed me Buster: I can do both Buster: Multitasking is one of my aforementioned talents Rio: I can give you that one Buster: [a topless post football playing selfie like see busy and thinking about/missing you hence I took this for you] Buster: I'll give you this then Rio: 😍😍😍 Rio: I wanna come watch you play next time Buster: Yeah? Rio: you need to ask when you look like that? Rio: I could be there, right, at a proper match Buster: 'Course Buster: Probably don't tell the others though, it'd be hard to stop Billie and Edie from wanting to come with you Rio: True Rio: do your parents come? Rio: 'cos I'd rather not control my 😍😍😍 at all Buster: They'd have to not be working for there to be any danger of that Rio: I thought so Rio: I'll cheer you on Rio: bring the 🍊🍊 Buster: My dad watches me box more often, you wouldn't like that anyway Rio: not gonna encroach on your male bonding time, don't worry Buster: Hilarious Rio: I was being serious Buster: Me too, it's hilarious you reckon we have any kind of bond to encroach on Rio: you live together Rio: that's something, like Buster: Only 'cause they won't let me move out yet Rio: Well yeah Rio: you are only 14 Buster: And they were making such good choices when they were Rio: they didn't get to have their own place either Buster: They didn't need one, they were already living in the same house Rio: I doubt that argument will change their mind Buster: Whatever, I'm not trying to leave Ava with just Nance Buster: She'd make her well weird Rio: I don't think you can't make anyone anything Rio: least of all your sister Buster: You know what I mean Buster: And you don't have to jump to the other's defence, I ain't gonna send her this Rio: Whatever Rio: what are you gonna wear tonight then? Buster: Unlike you I haven't been shopping, maybe I'll go now while I'm waiting for you Rio: Just trying to work out the level of effort I need to put in Buster: What level of effort would you like to put in? Rio: I just don't want to look out of place Rio: why is that a problem? Buster: It's not a problem, why are you coming at me with an attitude? Rio: Sorry Rio: I think all this shit that's going on with Nance has got to me Buster: What's she said? Rio: Just all about those kids, what they say and do Rio: it's a shitty situation Buster: Stay with her if you want, I can take some of the lads with me Rio: If you'd rather Buster: I obviously wouldn't Buster: But if it'll make you feel better Rio: I don't know Rio: there's nothing I can do for her Buster: I'd say bring her but she'd never go Rio: I hardly blame her Buster: 'Course not, you never do Rio: Going to a party where she knows no one won't make her feel any better Buster: She doesn't wanna feel better, she'd rather wallow Buster: A party's as good a place as any for that Rio: You invite her then Rio: I'm not a middleman Buster: I don't actually want her there, unbelievable as that may sound, babe Rio: then we're agreed it's a bad idea Buster: I'll take us being in agreement about something as far as my fucking sister is concerned Rio: For God's sake Rio: let's drop this Buster: Don't for God's sake me Rio: This conversation is pointless Buster: That ain't stopped you keeping one going with Nance though Rio: Your sister has spent most of today telling me how hard she's struggling and how hard she gets bullied and you want me to just put that aside like it's nothing Buster: Would you like me to applaud you for having to hear a day's worth of it? Rio: Don't be a dick Buster: Don't tell me what it's like as if I don't go to the same school Rio: Don't make it about you Rio: it's happening to her Buster: Cheers for that, I had no idea Rio: Like I said, pointless Rio: have a good night with your friends Buster: I will Rio: 👍 Great Buster: It's no mansion but I'll make the best of it regardless Rio: Go away now Buster: Who do you think you're talking to? Buster: That hasn't worked on me a single time you've tried it Rio: You're just trying to annoy me now and I don't need it Buster: You wish Buster: She's annoying you and you don't wanna admit that to yourself or her Rio: No, you're being an asshole because you're mad Buster: I'll take all the blame, babe, what do I care? Buster: It's a well established role, I'm the asshole and she's the only one ever who suffers Rio: I haven't said that, no one's said that Buster: Chelsea's always been a picnic for me, like Buster: Not that anyone's ever asked Rio: I know that, why are you saying it like I don't Rio: and I can't do fuck all about that either Buster: 'Cause you're acting like you don't Rio: The ways you cope aren't the ways she does, or doesn't Rio: I just don't see the point of acting like that'll work Buster: Well, I don't see the point of you taking all her bullshit on as your own Buster: Or getting dragged down by it Rio: I can't just Rio: dismiss it that easily Rio: she's still here, like, can you just give me a moment Buster: Take loads of them Buster: I'll see you tomorrow Rio: Thanks so much Buster: You're so welcome Rio: Bye then Buster: Yeah Rio: if that's how you feel then just see me on easter Buster: If that's how you feel, then you might as well bring your boyfriend to celebrate with us all Rio: Fuck you Buster: No, fuck you Rio: I don't get why you're being like this Rio: explain it to me Buster: You don't get to hold Easter over me like an ultimatum when you know it won't be the same then Buster: We only get 7 days and you've already spent this one with her but I can't be upset about it 'cause she's more upset than me Buster: Fuck that Buster: And like I said, fuck you Rio: You're allowed but that ain't what you put out at all Rio: you're mad at her, I get it, but fuck taking that out on me Rio: she's my cousin, I have to see her when she comes over Rio: and nah, it isn't a fun time but you don't need to take my mood so personally Buster: Forget it Buster: You could just see her on Easter, but why would you when that threat works so much better on me Rio: It's not a threat Rio: if you reckon you're gonna have so much more fun with your friends then you may as well Buster: I reckon I'll have to try and have fun with them 'cause that's the only option you've given me Rio: I was actually coming 'til you told me not to Buster: I didn't tell you not to Rio: Yes you did Rio: you said see you tomorrow Buster: Don't put words in my mouth Buster: You already weren't coming by the time I said that Rio: Then why would I have left my house to go have an imaginary argument for you Buster: To have a real one with me, obviously Rio: Yeah, that's exactly how I wanted to spend my evening, you've got it Rio: never mind I can't friggin' go back five minutes later 'cos she's probably still there with Junior Buster: You and me both Buster: So don't go back yet Rio: Well where do you suggest I go Rio: seeing as you've uninvited me from the party 'cos I'm so shit Buster: Come on Rio: I'm not sorry I care about her Rio: and that isn't me saying you don't, or me saying I don't care about you either Rio: I clearly do Buster: I don't want you to be sorry Buster: I love that you care so much, you know that Rio: are you coming to pick me up then or what? Buster: I'm basically halfway to you already Buster: I wasn't gonna turn around, who am I? Buster: Not a cunt who gives up that easy, like Rio: Don't scare me like that Buster: I didn't mean to Buster: I'm sorry Rio: You wanted to make me feel how you did Rio: I get it Rio: I've missed you too today Buster: It just made me think about what it'll be like, I've been trying not to Rio: Yeah Rio: I know Rio: we'll have to work out how often we can Buster: I missed you so much Buster: I can't leave you Rio: but you have to Rio: there's no scenario where we can be together as much as we want Rio: even if we weren't having to hide it Buster: There has to be, there's always choices Buster: If you want something badly enough, you make it happen Buster: That's my life Rio: You can't leave school, I can't go to yours, I wouldn't get in Rio: and I can't just move myself to London with nowhere to live and no plan Buster: Then I'll move back here Buster: With Nan and Granddad Rio: Your parents won't want that Rio: even if they're barely about, they still want you around Buster: I don't give a shit what they want Rio: I know, but it means they've got enough say to stop you, at least for now Rio: in a few years, nah Rio: it's shit, I don't want that to be how it is any more than you do Rio: I wanna be with you always Buster: In a few years you could have a boyfriend that isn't a pussy with a paper round Rio: Do you actually think I'm going to get a new boyfriend? Buster: Not right now, obviously Rio: Not ever, if you still want me Rio: I've only got this one still because I don't want to waste our time together right now dealing with the logistics of formally dumping him Buster: Like you said, we can't be together as much as we want Rio: so that means, what, to you Rio: you need to keep this open Buster: It means you deserve better Rio: there isn't better Rio: you said that Rio: and I believe it Buster: Not than me, but than this bullshit scenario Buster: My mum and dad only got through uni 'cause they had us, everyone knows that Buster: They'd had years together by then Rio: Well, I believe in us Rio: I thought you did too Buster: I do Buster: I just can't fucking breathe when I think about going back Rio: it's the first time Rio: we'll get better at it Rio: we'll have to Buster: Yeah, I'll add it to the list of shit I have to do Buster: It'll be fine Rio: It won't Rio: it'll hurt like hell Rio: but we have to be okay with that Rio: if we want the good of it Buster: Don't Buster: You can't ask me to be okay with hurting you Rio: It hurt more Rio: being without you Rio: we'll have more than we did, no matter Buster: I know Rio: That's what love is, right Rio: no matter what Buster: If it ain't that, I don't know what else it would be Rio: I don't want anyone else Rio: even if it's painful Buster: Okay Buster: Me either, in case that wasn't painfully obvious Rio: You better not Rio: You're mine Rio: I can't share you Buster: I am yours Buster: I told you, nobody is gonna change my mind Buster: I probably should have said no obstacle though, 'cause distance won't either Rio: not even you Rio: you can't change your mind yet Rio: preferably ever but Rio: I won't say you can't there Buster: Especially not me, what the fuck do I know, I reckoned ignoring you for the rest of our lives would work Buster: I won't ever change my mind 'cause I can't Buster: That'd be a mistake and those aren't allowed Rio: I love you Rio: and I'll get better at listening Buster: I love you too, but I can't promise that I'll get better at staying calm Buster: You know my history Rio: I know you Rio: and I love you as you Rio: we'll make this work Rio: what else can we do, right Buster: She gets to me too, you know Buster: Or all of that bullshit at school does Rio: Of course it does Rio: no one wants to hear that about their family Rio: and not be able to stop it Rio: I know you care Buster: She doesn't understand Rio: She sees it like you're picking their side Rio: instead of trying to keep some of them vaguely on it in any way Buster: I'm not gonna take on the whole school for her Buster: It shouldn't have got that far Buster: She lets shit escalate and then expects me to fix it Rio: She's a good victim Rio: she rises it to it, you know Rio: if she could just laugh it off or let it go, it wouldn't be happening Buster: I don't know how the fuck she could have been raised the same way as me, with the parents we have, and become that Buster: Everything my mum went through, it's offensive Rio: She doesn't mean to be the way she is Rio: she needs to get to a place where she can help herself, or ask for help Buster: She doesn't try hard enough not to stand in her own way Buster: So she might as well mean it Rio: It's frustrating, I know Buster: Frustrating ain't the word Buster: But whatever Rio: You can't change her Rio: unfortunate or otherwise Rio: just how it is, babe Buster: At least she ain't Ro levels yet Rio: Is anyone Rio: now that's offensive Buster: Fair point Rio: swear she lowkey hates me Buster: She don't like anyone Rio: yeah but she liked my ma and me being born stole her attention Rio: gutted ever since, I'm so sorry Buster: Come on, be real, she liked your mum until Edie was born Rio: Too true Rio: 'course that had NOTHING to do with Drew 🙄 Buster: Maybe she only wants mixed race babies Buster: I'll ask her if she comes to Easter Rio: 😂 Rio: please do Rio: how did you stand to live with her for all those years Buster: They are cuter, like Buster: And I didn't have a choice Rio: You'll want to get with a darker girl than me then Rio: it's amazing your da didn't murder-suicide Buster: No, I won't Buster: Look no further for where I get my coping strategies from, bottle in hand literally as I type this Rio: That's just cultural, like Rio: and when your brother does what Joe did, who's checking Buster: Yeah Buster: At least you're not actually my sister Rio: again, don't think that's calming anyone Buster: When have I ever been a calming influence? Rio: I wish there was explaining it Rio: but nah Buster: Who do we owe an explanation to? Rio: I mean, if we could Rio: so we didn't have to hide it Buster: If we ever tell anyone I'm not explaining or grovelling, fuck that Buster: Only God can judge me and he don't exist, so Rio: Shh, my nan has spidey-sense for blasphemy Rio: I just wanna show everyone how much I love you Rio: I can at this party, yeah Buster: You can do whatever you want at this party, babe Rio: That like just what I need Buster: [a picture of a full crate/case of something expensive that he's bringing to this party] Buster: Nobody's gonna care what we do Rio: 🙌 Rio: you're the best Rio: I'm gonna need to get changed in the car Rio: 'cos not even me puts on a party dress to go have an argument, sadly Buster: Next time I won't tell you to fuck off for less than a tiara and ballgown, like Rio: I appreciate that Buster: I can wait, you know Buster: Without distracting you too much Rio: where Rio: I told you, I already left Buster: But you can go back, if you need to Rio: No I can't, 'cos I'm going to see Dan, remember Rio: not get ready to go out with you Rio: it doesn't matter Buster: You could be making yourself look beautiful for him Rio: Rude to suggest I'm not already Buster: I'm not suggesting that, just that I'm aware how arguments work Rio: That isn't the vibe Buster: You decide what the vibe is, and Nance doesn't need to know Rio: If you're saying I need to then just say it Buster: What? Rio: Put more effort in Rio: 'cos I'm clearly not bothered so Buster: I'm not saying that Buster: Why would I? Rio: I don't know Rio: you tell me Buster: Rio Rio: What? Buster: All I'm ever gonna tell you is how perfect you are Buster: Come on Rio: Do you think I'm going to embarrass you? Buster: No Buster: Don't be stupid Rio: Don't call me stupid Buster: I'm not, I'm saying the idea that I'd ever feel like that 'cause of you is stupid and you know it is Rio: I'm nervous Buster: Tell me Rio: What if someone there knows Rio: it's stupid Buster: We're going there 'cause they don't Buster: Trust me Rio: I do Rio: I just don't want this to end Buster: It won't Buster: No matter what, remember? Rio: Yeah Rio: I know, it'd just be nice if we didn't have to test that theory for a long time yet, wouldn't it Buster: We're not testing it tonight Buster: It's the opposite, a chance for us to be like any other couple Rio: Yeah Rio: okay, I'll stop freaking out now Buster: Freaking out isn't the vibe either, your worries aren't irrational, I wish I could say they are Buster: But like I said, I chose this party over any of the others happening this week for a good reason Buster: You're safe, and so is the secret Rio: You aren't stupid either, obviously Rio: I do know Rio: and I do wanna have a good time with you, so we will Buster: I just wanna give you everything that he can, especially bullshit that gets taken for granted Rio: You don't need to compete with him Rio: or anyone else Buster: There's no competition Buster: Like you said, I ain't stupid Rio: even if we could literally never leave the hotel, I'd be happy, you know Rio: I just like being with you Buster: Yeah, but you need to know that I'm not ashamed of you, I wasn't when we were kids and I'm not now Buster: Whether nobody or everybody knows Rio: I know what I am Rio: and what your friends are like Rio: and girls you're used to Rio: is different Buster: I know what you are Buster: And they're not my friends, you are Buster: As for any girl other than you, you know how I feel and how I don't Rio: I love you Buster: I'm sorry Rio: No, don't be Rio: you've done everything right Buster: I haven't though, it's my fault you feel like I could be anything but flattered that you wanna go anywhere with me Buster: I know what I am too, and what I've done Rio: It's more circumstance Rio: you just played into it Buster: I've been acting like it's Nance who's wrong, for not fitting in, maybe it's me Buster: Maybe I'm actually the weak one Rio: You did what you had to do Rio: I would've done the same Rio: I have Buster: You haven't been cruel, that's just me Rio: I'm no saint, babe Rio: no one is Buster: You're as close as it gets then Rio: You're good, Buster Rio: I know Rio: and I knew Buster: I'm whatever people need me to be Rio: You ain't what you do to survive Buster: That's exactly what I am Buster: Everyone is Rio: I don't think so Buster: 'Cause you want to think that I'm good Rio: No Rio: because that assumes it's never gonna be more than just surviving Rio: it's some lowest common denominator shit Rio: I'd rather look at potential over desperation Rio: any cunt who thinks they'd be a 👼 at their lowest, hasn't ever been that far down Buster: It's not gonna be more than just surviving any time soon Buster: So 'course you'd rather look at potential, who wouldn't? Rio: I'm not going to be defined by my worst Rio: that's not naive optimism Buster: Good, don't be Rio: Why are you then Buster: When you're the best, you're also the worst Rio: I'm not Rio: You can't have it all the ways Buster: You're better than me, that's no secret, babe Buster: I keep telling you Rio: Then I can be worse too Buster: No you can't Rio: Why don't you like yourself Buster: 'Cause you can't please everyone Rio: you should consider yourself Rio: fuck everyone else Buster: That would only get me so far Rio: You don't have to be a dick to get places Rio: I'm aware, it does work Rio: but it's also not a requirement Buster: It is where I live Buster: And as we've established, I won't be leaving for a while Rio: you don't want to end up there Rio: do you? Buster: No Rio: Good Buster: I wanna come home Rio: I like being here too Buster: Remember when I hid Rio: Yeah Rio: and we'd really plan like your parents would just leave without you eventually Buster: Home Alone and Parent Trap really made it seem plausible, to be fair Rio: You were lead well astray with the latter Rio: though you're not also a ginger so that revelation probably wouldn't have happened Buster: I'm not a girl, more importantly, I'm not exactly sure how that's escaped your notice lately Buster: And I've got more chance of becoming one than my parents have of getting divorced at this point Rio: This is true, I remember Rio: it has been a day, you know Rio: my memory fades so fast Buster: Just as well I took more pictures than just the topless ones earlier then, yeah? Buster: [dropping nudes casually] Rio: you're forgiven for holding out on me Rio: just so you know Rio: 🥴 Buster: I said I wouldn't distract you too much Buster: My memory never fades Rio: that's a shame Rio: 'cos there's loads of this convo I'd like you to forget Rio: but we can start with the no distracting rule Buster: I didn't say no, just that you've gotta put clothes on before I can take them off Rio: I suppose that's fair Buster: What are you wearing then? Rio: You can't rip it Rio: it's one of my best dresses Rio: [a picture of it in her bag] Rio: you want me to put it on? Buster: I'll do it Buster: I've stressed you out, it's only right that I calm you down before we get there Buster: Full 👸🏽 treatment Rio: It's not you Rio: but I'm not going to say no or turn that down ever so Buster: You've got the wrong twin if you want any makeup doing though Buster: I only know how to take it off Rio: 😏 I'll survive Rio: though I may put on some to have you do that again Rio: it was so nice Buster: Start with lipstick, I really wanna take that off Rio: ❤️ or 💗? Buster: You tell me Buster: [sends her a pic of his outfit like] Rio: Hmm Rio: You'll look better in pink Buster: Okay Rio: more subtle, I know Rio: but I can leave other marks Buster: Yeah, you can Buster: I'm almost there now Rio: Go faster Buster: I'm not driving Buster: But I'll insist he does Rio: Do Buster: Already done Rio: he must think you're such a twat now Rio: my bad Buster: You're worth getting a lower rating from him for Rio: That's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me Rio: 😂 Buster: You're welcome Rio: You can say what you like about my standards on that one Buster: I don't dislike myself that much Rio: Good Rio: 'cos you're my favourite person Rio: and won't have nothing said about my taste Buster: You've got flawless taste, especially in dresses Rio: I knew you'd liked it Buster: I love it Rio: I'm gonna look good for you baby Buster: You do now Rio: but always Buster: You do always Rio: I'll get lazy if you make it this easy, like Buster: You'll still look good then Buster: And I'll still want you Rio: Buster Buster: Yeah? Rio: I'm going to miss you so much Buster: I'll do whatever I can to make sure you don't though Buster: Anything Rio: We both will Rio: people do it, don't they Rio: there must be tips to cope Buster: 'Course Buster: Loads of people meet online and live in different countries, loads further away from each other than we'll be Rio: Exactly Rio: it doesn't always fail, can't do Rio: it's just harder Buster: Even if it does for everyone else, we're not gonna let it for us Rio: No Rio: we can't Buster: We won't Rio: you're too good and no one else is going to look after you properly Buster: Nobody else is gonna look at me or touch me or know me Buster: Only you Rio: I'm yours, in every way a person can be Rio: and I need you, you know Buster: Well, I'm here, so you can have me Rio: here here? Buster: Close your eyes and open them again Buster: You'll see me Rio: [does] Buster: [opens the car door because gentleman] Rio: [the most extra greeting like it's been 1000 years] Buster: [we know he's being as extra it's fine] Rio: [lol at the day you ever get a chatty driver] Buster: [he'd just be rude cos 100% that bitch] Buster: [or they'd do that thing where you try and talk normally and act like nothing is happening even though you're being saucy af] Rio: [that is a mood tbf] Buster: [we should give them a chatty driver one day lol] Rio: [we'll let you live today 'cos you need to get changed so literally as much ignoring as possible tah] Buster: [get you a man who will undress and redress you like he literally is] Rio: [so about it, reckon we probably know how this party will play out now so wanna do easter?] Buster: [yeah we know it's their chance to be extra in front of everyone so I'm down to do easter]

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kabhi-haath-pakad-k-tu-mera · 5 years

Text

A Path Of Ambition and Power

Written for The International Wizarding School Championship

Round 3 : Welcome to the Dungeons, it's potions time!

Theme : Felix Felicis

Word Count : 2766

School : Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Year : Year 3

Prompt : [Main] 7. Begging (Action),

[Additional] 1. Dungeons (Setting),

[Additional] 10. Drizzling - Rain (Weather)

————

In all twenty years of her life, Bellatrix Black has only ever felt repressed. Repressed and suffocated. She’s always had ambition, always had great plans for power except, as her mother tells her none-too-gently again, it would ruin their family's impression—put a damper on the Blacks’ power. It’s the twentieth century still, and they are, after all, the aristocrats of the Wizarding World. It wouldn't do for a daughter from the Black family to be seen working her way through the ministry, running for minister of magic. The Wizarding World would never let a woman run their ministry anyway. No, she’s to be married off into a respectable pure blood family and gain the Blacks another vote in the Wizengamot. Traded. As if she were a commodity.

Bellatrix wants to scream out every rebellious thought inside her head and tell everyone exactly what she thinks of their ideas of how she is supposed to behave. Instead, she blankly looks her mother in her eyes, unwavering all through her admonishment, even as Druella's lips set into a thin line, which she knows not be a good sign. Druella only glares at her icily before leaving the room in a flurry of robes. Bella relaxes, but only just, waiting for Narcissa’s disapproving voice to cut the thick tension in the room as she knows it will.

“I don’t understand why you feel the need to upset mother so. It’ll only take a turn for the worse, you know.”

Bella doesn't need to turn to know that there is a dainty frown marring Narcissa’s features.

She doesn't reply, afraid she’ll say things she’d regret. She stares at the brightly wallpapered wall instead, reciting to herself the names of all the heavenly bodies she knows, all that her family members are named after—Cygnus, Cassiopeia, Orion, Sirius, Andromeda … She stops and exhales sharply, anger and resentment bubbling in her throat.

She would never forgive Andromeda for marrying a filthy Mudblood, but now she’s finally starting to understand why Andy had always been so desperate to get rid of her aristocratic status and ties to the Black family. If it weren't for her love for Narcissa, she would've run away too. They are twins after all, Andy and her, they share more than just their appearances.

————

II.

Bella doesn't think that her distaste for the curse that is patriarchy can expand any further, but she is proven wrong yet again as she smiles almost painfully at the numerous wizards her mother has introduced her to (all of whom are leering at her unabashedly) and hopes it doesn't look like a grimace.

She finally manages to excuse herself from the gentlemen and starts weaving her way through the other guests, searching for Narcissa whom she had lost in the crowd when her mother had gotten hold of her.

She doesn't even understand what it is that has made her accompany her mother and father to this Christmas ball organised by the Malfoys in honour of a wizard that is nowadays said to be the greatest wizard to be born. He is said to be as powerful as Dumbledore—perhaps even more so—and set onto a path to reform the Wizarding World, purge it of Mudbloods, and overthrow the statue of secrecy. She quietens the little voice in the back of her head that tells her exactly why she is where she is.

Because you wanted to know if it was true.

She’s about to go out into the gardens to continue looking for her sister when she suddenly stops, and the door to her left opens with a bang and everyone is quiet. Lord Voldemort does make quite an entrance.

She knows of him from having heard her father speak of him during meals. Such a great wizard, such great ability, such great plans.

“Lord Voldemort will cleanse the Wizarding World”,

she's heard him say, and he says it with reverence.

It is through him that she’d come to know of the followers he was gathering—Death Eaters—and he had declared that he would recruit anyone who was loyal, anyone whose blood was pure, anyone who had the same thirst for power and who wanted the Wizarding World to rise above the filthy Muggles, to get out of the hiding they had been forced into. Anyone. Even Witches. She hadn't had to pretend to be interested in the conversation that day. Lord Voldemort radiated power. You could feel his presence in your core—something strong, powerful, and cruel. And it is this power she is attracted towards.

She finds herself wandering towards him instead of looking for Narcissa like she had set off to, and finds herself standing a few feet off of a group of wizards that are quite apparently tripping over themselves to please their lord, to prove their worth. She stands for a moment and observes. Even if the Death Eaters were to stop behaving like overexcited puppies, it would be easy to mark him as a leader. She stands there for a few more minutes as she watches more wizards arrive to greet their leader, and her father is one of them, telling him that The Ancient and Most Noble House Of Black supports his endeavours wholeheartedly.

She doesn't think her father has realized yet that it is not he who is playing the Dark Lord like a fiddle, and that their roles have been reversed, but then, he doesn't realize half the things he should. But he sees her standing and he has excused himself and crossed over to her with a frown, asking her why she wasn't with her mother or with Cissy flirting with some elite wizard.

He herds her towards where she knows Druella is and also away from the Dark Lord. Bella can feel eyes boring into her back, though, and she cannot help but look over her shoulder to see who it is. Her eyes lock with the red ones of the Dark Lord's, but then her father is tugging her away again and she has to look away.

————

III.

Bella finds herself even more intrigued by the Dark Lord and his plans for revolutionizing the Wizarding World as the month progresses after the Christmas Ball, the weather turning from the usual December cold to a dreadful wet and rain filled winter not usually associated with January, filled with light drizzling here and there.

She’s now begun to actively search for any information about him and his band of Death Eaters she can get her hands on, and she’d be lying if she said she wasn't finding the lure of power tempting. Her parents would kill her if they ever found out just how tempting becoming a death eater is to her. But she isn't going to tell them of her plans to join them, of course—if she can. Her desire to throw caution to the wind and to just go through with it is heightened every time she finds mention of his deeds. It reaches its peak when she sees him in flesh again at the annual charity auction her parents organize to raise funds for St.Mungo’s.

His arrival there is unexpected��there are, after all, ministry employees present. But he seems to disregard this as trivial and drinks in with a sort of masked pleasure as his followers—the Death Eaters—trip over their robes while rushing to greet him. She finds herself watching the scene unfold for more than a few minutes from over the shoulder of a wizard who has been droning on and on about his views on the Goblins and Gringotts for far longer than should be legal.

She gets quite a start when she finds herself looking into red eyes from across the room then, for the Dark Lord seems to be looking at her directly. She holds his gaze unwaveringly for a moment, then looks away, feeling, for some inexplicable reason, completely naked before him—as if he could read all of her thoughts, and she could hide nothing from him. She then begins to avoid looking in his direction at all, although her thoughts cannot help but wander towards the power he wields.

————

IV.

She doesn't think she could ever understand why wizards we always so delusional, or why they would think she would like to engage in any sort of activities with them, but what nags her just a little as she makes her way outside is why she is so unnerved by it this time. The only thing that had stopped her from creating a scene inside had been Narcissa’s hand upon her own, guiding her away from that absolute lunatic who had thought that he could lay his hands on her. She knows that if she had stayed, she would have forgotten her mother’s strong words telling her to be nice and cursed him into oblivion in a fit of recklessness. Instead, she lets her impulsiveness guide her to goodness knows where.

She is rather startled, however, when she finds herself in one of the numerous Dungeons the Black Manor has. This in itself is not surprising—she has found herself here when she is troubled more times than she’d care to count. She is more astonished at the other occupant of the Dungeons, the Dark Lord, who seems to be looking for something amidst the forgotten mass of no doubt priceless objects in it. He turns around scowling before he notices her near the entrance to the chamber, and his lips curl into a smile which she by now has memorised.

She thinks about the events of the evening for a moment—none of them pleasant—and about how much she hates living a life so subdued and fancies that her reckless streak has probably now reached its peak, if what she is about to do is any indication. She feels as if she is high on Liquid Luck when she further approaches the dark lord.

“I would like to join your cause, My Lord, if I am welcome.” her voice is controlled, and she tries to hide the hope in it, although he probably sees it anyway.

The Dark Lord is not surprised, not that she had expected him to be—she is sure he sees all of her, knows her intentions and all of her past, and she knows it to be true when his smile becomes larger. He studies her for a moment, and it she has to physically restrain herself from fidgeting under his scrutiny. His voice is quiet when he speaks, but it carries over to her smoothly,

“Our cause, Bella, welcomes anyone who wishes to cleanse the Wizarding World, anyone who wants to take from the infiltrators of our world what is rightfully ours.” he pauses slightly “And you, so young, so full of ambition and power… A true Slytherin, a worthy addition to our noble cause.”

Bella feels as if someone is gently guiding her left hand forward and slipping her sleeve backwards until the smooth skin of her left forearm is exposed, and then, suddenly there is pain so sharp she can barely think around it. It doesn't even occur to her to scream. And just as suddenly as it had started, the pain subsides and there is a black mark over the expanse of her inner forearm that depicts a snake protruding from a skull. She has been branded.

————

It probably would've done her some good to see if she were being followed, but Bella hadn't bothered to do so in her angered state and this fact is increasingly made clear by her mother’s scream—which is more terrified and outraged than she has ever heard it to be—and all too suddenly, it seems that Bella is finally coming down from her high streak and reality is finally starting to sink in again.

She has gotten herself branded. Father would skin her alive. The Dark Lord merely looks vaguely amused and walks out of the Dungeons, saying something to her father who has just arrived at the scene and who is only half listening to whatever his wife or his master are saying to him, his eyes transfixed to the mark on her left arm.

The party is cut short after this, and Bella sees her mother collapse on the staircase which connects the Dungeons to the upper floors, pretty sure that by now, Parkinson and Greengrass would have already spread the word and all of the aristocratic wizarding families of Britain would know of her deed. She doesn't try to go talk to anyone, opting instead to sit down where she is, not caring about her expensive robes. She doesn't feel as horrified by her actions as everyone is making them out to be. In fact, as she sits there waiting for her parents to come punish her for what she had done—which she knows they will—she feels better than she has in a long time. She’s their own daughter and blood after all—pure blood. What is the worst that they'll do?

————

VI.

She finds out quickly enough that the worst that they can do is nothing to be laughed at, all without spilling a single drop of blood. Her family, including herself, all dabble in dark magic. What was she expecting, really? Her father fires a number of curses at her that she cannot name, all of which are undeniably all dark, and the pain she feels at this instant is like the pain she felt at the time of being branded, except ten times stronger. Probably powerful enough to cause serious damage to her body and mind. When it seems that her father is through with torturing her, she lies curled up on the floor, breathing heavily while trying to find the energy to stand and take herself to her bedroom.

It is because of this pause in her torture that when it first hits her, she is taken by complete shock, her body feeling like every part of it is on fire. She had been so preoccupied by the pain that she hadn't even heard the incantation, the Crucio her mother sends her way making her collapse and wither on the ground of the dungeon, reduced to begging for mercy. She thinks it is bad the first time, but her mother promises her it’s only a small portion of what is yet to come. She isn't lying. The second and the third and the fourth, and however many number of times Druella curses her daughter it feels as if a hundred, thousand knives are being used to cut her body, to stab it, and then as if those are all being twisted in for good measure.

Bella thinks that by the time it ends, early in the morning, she might’ve been reduced to begging not only for mercy, but for her life. She still has all of her limbs attached—although moving them even slightly causes destructive amounts of pain—and all she does is lie on the floor of the chamber, hardly moving or making noise.

All of this pain at the cost of one decision that she had taken for herself, but this is a decision that she refuses to regret, a decision that will feed her hunger for power and ambition for the rest of her life. She is a Death Eater now, and she is going to be following Lord Voldemort’s footsteps through a path of death and destruction. And now that she’s felt what it’s like to be on the receiving end of all those curses she has only before fired in her head at anyone who tried to patronize her, she knows that this is what she wants for all of who try to objectify her or trade her or try to use her to feel.

She wants them to beg to her for mercy much the same way she had, every last one of them, and now that she’s seen in between bouts of pain how much pleasure it gives to the caster, she knows that she’ll feel this euphoria every time she casts these spells.

One thing Bellatrix Black does decide while still lying on the ground of the Dungeon is that it is this euphoria she wants to know and feel every time, like she had felt about the feel of liquid luck running through her veins the previous night. And she will stop at nothing to satiate this bloodlust or to reach those much greater levels of power. She has carved out a path of Ambition and Power, and nothing could stop her from following it anymore.

————

A/N: I tried to show (although I don’t think it’s all that obvious) that the slightly manic version of Bella that we see sets in after she is tortured by Cygnus and Druella, as a result of her Crucification. Yes. Like she did to the Longbottoms.

#harry potter #Bellatrix Lestrange #Bellatrix Black #IWSC Season 1 #Harry Potter Fanfiction #Slytherin #Death Eaters #Voldemort #Bellamort #IWSC

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