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sailtomarina · 4 days

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Here is Where I Want to Stay

“Fred, do you have a mo–”

Before you could finish your sentence, the office door crashed open with the arrival of his twin.

“We have a problem.”

The tone in George’s voice made it clear the problem needed immediate attention, and the two of you rushed out without hesitation. Fred squeezed your shoulder in passing, however, reassuring you that you’d find another time to speak.

Except, it seemed like everything and everyone was out to interfere.

No matter the time or place, whenever you approached Fred, something would happen that would pull one or both of you away. Not even the shop closing gave you the privacy needed, as not even half an hour after locking the door and cleaning up, Ron clattered down the stairs trailing soot from the flat.

“G-Ginny! Th-the baby! It’s coming!” He gasped out the news and bent at the waist as he attempted to catch his breath.

George scrambled to join Ron as they ran back up, but Fred paused just long enough to throw you a look.

“What are you waiting for? Go! I’ll close shop.” You shooed him along with your hands, earning a grateful smile and wink.

“Thanks, love! We’ll chat later, yeah?”

Then he was gone, leaving you alone in the now quiet store. It felt strange to be the last one, despite having worked there for over a year now as you finished your Runes mastery.

What you didn’t expect was how fun each and every day was with the twins. They didn’t hesitate to pull you into product development and testing, and you found modern applications for runes that you never would have considered in the past. You were so invested in your projects with them, that you neglected your post-graduation job hunt as months passed you by. It was easy to forget about the outside world when working with the twins, especially Fred.

Fred, with his crooked grin and easy laugh. Fred’s eyes that sought you out without fail. He didn’t just look. He saw you with all your insecurities and curiosities and knew just what to say and do to fire you up. Everyday, you went back home alone, and everyday, you told yourself you’d tell him how he made you feel the next time you were alone together.

With a wave of your wand, the lights went out in the shop, but instead of leaving, you took one last look around. Just enough light from the street lamps outside streamed through the window to cast a glow over the polished wood shelves. Maybe it was time for you to bid farewell and move on.

“You’re still here.”

You whirled around at the familiar voice, nearly crashing into his arms as they flew up to catch you. “Fred! What are you doing back already? What about Ginny?”

You felt as much as saw the quirk of his lips in the shadows. “She’s good, as is the baby. It’s a boy. They named him Albus.”

He had yet to drop his arms. They remained circled around you, hugging you close enough to breathe him in. Citrus, smoke, home. You felt faint. “Good. That’s good.”

“What was it you wanted to tell me all day?” His breath tickled your ear.

You didn’t expect his face to be so close to yours when you turned to answer. He’d bent down towards you and now you hovered mere millimetres from one another. The air around you almost tripled in density, fighting your attempts to draw in one damn breath.

“I…” You stuttered to a stop, uncertain of how to phrase your longing.

“You?” His palms smoothed up your back to press you even closer.

“I want…”

How could you think with the way he brushed back a loose curl, or how he brought that same hand to the base of your neck, fingers threading into the strands and thumb rubbing circles against that sensitive spot behind your ear?

“What is it you want, love?” he murmured, lips nearly brushing your own.

“You.” The answer escaped before you could hold it back, rephrase it into something more eloquent.

His thumb stopped its circling and slid down to press upward against your jaw until your eyes met his. “That’s good.”

“It is?”

He hummed in assent. “Otherwise what I’m about to do would be very awkward.”

You had only a second to register the wicked grin that spread from cheek to cheek before you felt a yank to your navel. With a snap of his fingers, the lights turned on just enough for you to take in your surroundings.

“Is this…your flat?”

You knew the answer before he even gave it; there was no questioning in whose room we stood. Those were Fred’s work boots next to the door, and there was his coat hanging on one of the hooks lining the wall. A small pile of books on Runes and Arithmancy sat on the nightstand of a bed made up in navy blue and cream.

“I didn’t bring you here under any pretence. I just wanted to give us a bit of light and privacy since George should be home soon.”

“We could have walked up here,” you teased.

His cheeks turned a delightful pink. “I might have been showing off a bit.”

He barked out a laugh when you shoved him back onto the bed and he bounced in place.

“A bit? You cast those spells wandless and wordless.”

Then you were on him, straddling his hips and tilting his face up towards your own. His reaction was instantaneous, hands grasping your hips and squeezing tight.

“I meant what I said. I don’t want to pressure you into anything.” His hands said otherwise as they slid down to cup your bottom.

Riding high on the confidence you’d lacked earlier, you saw no further reason to hold back. “Well, with your permission, I intend to snog you breathless.”

You squealed at the sudden shift as he rolled you both over and caged you in place. “You have my whole-hearted permission.”

Except, it was him who dived into the kiss first, tasting of whatever sweet treat he’d had earlier. It was him who pulled back to gaze down at you with a soft smile. It was also him who confessed, “I’ve been wanting to kiss you like this for months now.”

“Well, why didn’t you?”

With a little laugh that you pocketed to cherish later, he admitted, “There always seemed to be something coming up: rampant Pygmy Puffs, rogue frisbees, the nonstop disaster that is my family–” He caught his bottom lip between his teeth, the usually bright blue of his eyes darkening as he stared at you.

“What?” You couldn’t help but feel nervous at his continued silence.

“I’ve fantasised about us countless times, but to have you here with me still seems too good to be true. I’m going to wake up any minute now and find that this was all a dream.” He leaned forward, brushing past your cheek, to bury his face in the loose waves of your hair. A hand swiftly followed, burrowing and kneading and relaxing all the muscles in your body. “But this feels so real.”

“That’s because it is real.” You cupped his cheek, thumb catching along the stubble lining his jaw, and brought him up to look at you. “I am here with you, and here is where I want to stay.”

So, you did.

WC 1242

Cross-posted on FB, Tumblr, and AO3.

4.18.24 Hump Day prompt: “Can I speak with you for a moment?”

More second-person POV. It's been fun writing reader insert, mostly because I get to imagine it's me experiencing these moments ;) I hope you don't mind!

#harry potter fanfiction #Facebook: Weasleys Witches and Writers #fred weasley #reader insert #fred weasley x reader #harry potter flashfic

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sailtomarina · 4 days

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Reveals are up, so if you’re interested in a spicy threesome with some unexpected faces, check out my submission, Flavours and Expectations, as well as the other wonderful works of the other writers!

HP Triad Fest Master List

An act of love

Author: HadrianPeverellBlack

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/HPTriad5/works/54771832

Summary: AU where the war goes on longer. Harry appears on the doorstep of an old friend, asking for help.

Building Bridges

Author: @pookha

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/HPTriad5/works/53607814

Summary: Harry and Hermione have been together since the Tri-Wizard tournament. When Hermione goes back to Hogwarts for 8th year, she falls in love with Pansy Parkinson, who was a spy for her father, Severus Snape. Meanwhile, Harry is in the process of turning 12 Grimmauld Place into 'The Bridges,' a place where everyone is welcome. Harry and Hermione welcome Pansy into their relationship, home and bed.

Clearing

Author: cecilvn

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/HPTriad5/works/54782968

Summary: In the face of Lily's death, James finds healing in familiar faces.

Fates Temporal

Author: aleysiasnape

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/HPTriad5/works/54751654

Summary: The fates were kind to Hermione during summer solstice

Flavours and Expectations

Author: @sailtomarina

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/HPTriad5/works/54319912

Summary: Ernie Macmillan once thought he’d lead the wizarding world into a golden era. That was before he grew up and before he’d resigned himself to a future of running errands for his office like a delivery boy. A chance encounter with a former classmate reminds him that not only can people change, but that they’re also capable of affecting change in others. She’s sexy and confident and everything he’s ever wanted in a lover and for himself.

With Ernie a bit of a mess at work and at heart, the chances of finding love this late in life seem low. Can a saucy chef and the serpent slayer who guards her prove him wrong?

Follow the Pawprints

Author: @lumosatnight

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/HPTriad5/works/54154915

Summary: A man is sitting on the toilet in Victoria Park. Well, he’s also dead, but more importantly, he’s covered in pawprints. Luna and Susan go to poke the body. Cho tries to track down the culprit. You know, normal Tuesday things.

Harry’s Terrible, Awful, No Good, Very Bad Day

Author: Slytherinbabe40

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/HPTriad5/works/54387730

Summary: A terrible day has not-so-terrible consequences.

-----------------

Harry hurled his bag in the general direction of his desk and threw himself face down on…a...person?

He exhaled all the air in his lungs and even over the pounding in his ears, he felt the exhale and heard a groan from the man beneath him. His forehead dropped in mortification for a moment before he inhaled, smelling the lemongrass scent that means that Nott’s boyfriend has been around.

Sagging even more, he mumbled into the chest he faceplanted into, “This IS my bed, right?”

---------------

The Imperfect Art Of Taking The Piss As A Love Language

Author: @annanother-thing

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/HPTriad5/works/54718363

Summary: What better way to reveal your possibly very controversial but very happy relationship than just stopping hiding it and betting on which of your friends is the most oblivious and will take the longest to notice?

in the bend of your elbows.

Author: CanYouHearMyFear

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/HPTriad5/works/53482153

Summary: Hari doesn’t feel like he deserves his soulmates but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have soulmates.

The Missing Mate

Author: ayanadailey

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/HPTriad5/works/53427460

Summary: Regulus can't seem to stay away from the lonely werewolf when he knows his brother is away. It's as if his animagus form is drawn to Remus.

pity the living

Author: @poljupci

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/HPTriad5/works/54032410

Summary: When moving into a new flat, it's normal to check the bedrooms for space, the bathrooms for mould and the kitchen for that indescribable thing that will drive your loved ones in even when nothing is cooking on the stove. Harry, Ron and Hermione, though, should have been much more concerned about the state of their living room because, whether they knew it or not, all of the important bits are going to happen right in the centre of a space they may yet to grow to call their home.

or: a look into the Golden Trio surviving their first year after the end of the War

Show me the constellations in your eyes

Author: cassetteinability

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/HPTriad5/works/53646349

Summary: “I don’t need to look into your eyes to know my brother is fucking dead,” Sirius shouted, and his face was so cold, a futile attempt at hiding his sadness. “You need to leave.”

“I have Regulus’ eyes, don’t you see?” Regulus asked — begged.

“They look…” James began, walking closer to them now. “They look like his, Sirius.”

“They look like a Black’s eyes,” Sirius spat.

James shook his head. “Regulus had these little black flecks at the corners that always reminded me of a constellation… These are the same, Sirius.”

When Regulus is reincarnated, the first thing on his bucket list is to make his way back to the two most important people in his life. For answers and for love.

They are yours, you are theirs, it’s that simple

Author: consumedly

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/HPTriad5/works/54917875

Summary: They make it out like agreeing to live with someone is such a life-altering decision, such an adult thing to do, that when the moment comes you start to doubt yourself. It’s a war and I might only live so much, but do I want to? Do I really? Then someone dies, or someone’s house gets blown up and the only thing you think about is what if it was me? I’d have- they’re so- Why doesn’t in end already?!? And you realize that this big decision is you basically stopping drifting by and taking the reins of your life at least this one time.

The Unexpected

Author: RavenclawGreen28

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/HPTriad5/works/54926353

Summary: “The most beautiful love is the one that’s kept hidden, like a precious secret. A secret love is like a rose, delicate and beautiful, cherished and protected.”

Hermione has to go undercover for a mission because of poisoning and attacking of both wizards and muggles. What was thought to be a simple mission turns into more then bargained for.

The Beautiful Unexpected

Artist: RavenclawGreen28

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/HPTriad5/works/54798061

***

Thank you to everyone for taking part in the fest this year and to our Authors for their brilliant works!!!

Discord link: https://discord.gg/xnvYazKBxE

#hp triad fest #triad #harry potter fanfiction #Ernie x Pansy x Neville #Panvillnie #panville #Ernsy #Ernville #ernie macmillan #pansy parkinson #neville longbottom

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sailtomarina · 8 days

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𝗗𝗲𝗳𝗹𝗼𝘄𝗲𝗿 𝗗𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗼 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟰 𝗥𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗮𝗹𝘀

This year we’ve totaled over 202,000+ words and counting across 23 stories - including TWELVE (yes, you read that correctly!!!) works in progress with 25+ chapters to be released - and a few art collabs. These Deflower Draco submissions are sure to spice up your Sunday!

-> Check out all of the stories here <-

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sailtomarina · 8 days

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Pretty Portraits

I’m so happy to share these pieces with you! I created four portraits for @boundbyliv on Instagram who is writing a very special Luna x Ginny fanfic :) It’s about Quidditch, mystery and romance ✨🩷 I believe the work is an ongoing process, so check out Liv’s page for updates. I loved making these, I think they turned out really well😊🧡

I have more really cool commissions in the works and they’re all amazing. Thank you to everyone who has commissioned me so far. My commissions will remain open for as long as I can keep up with the requests, so if you have an idea but it’s not yet the right time, don’t worry. I’ll be here :)

With that said! Enjoy these portraits!

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sailtomarina · 8 days

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My submission for the 2024 Deflower Draco fest is now live! You can read it here. See below for a sneak peek ;)

Chapters: 2/2 Rating: Explicit Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Blaise Zabini, Draco Malfoy/Blaise Zabini, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy/Blaise Zabini Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Parvati Patil Additional Tags: Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex, Voyeurism, Vaginal Fingering, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Double Penetration in Two Holes, Beware the tea, Hogwarts Eighth Year Summary:

A pair of knickers and a pot full of mystery tea–what do these have in common? Draco is about to find out, along with just how much the newly-appointed Head Boy and Head Girl have changed since they all last walked Hogwarts. The swottiest Gryffindor and most stoic Slytherin have more to share than just class notes with him, as long as he leaves all expectations at the door.

He’d just grasped the handle, prepared to announce himself, when he heard it.

Or, more precisely, he heard her.

A moan.

He stood still, petrified in place as if spelled that way. Then, he slowly leaned forward to press his ear to the wooden surface.

“Nnnnn, ah! Just like that.”

He jerked back, accidentally letting go of the knocker. The heavy metal swung forward in a loud thud. Draco scrambled to smooth his uniform, then tucked his hands behind his back and stood straight. He waited.

The time it took between his knock and the door opening was inappropriately long.

Were they…finishing what they’d started?

He leaned forward once more, ears straining for any hint of what might lie behind the barrier. Just as he was about to make contact, the handle started to turn and he yanked himself upright.

“Malfoy?”

#dramione #Draco Malfoy #Hermione Granger #Blaise Zabini #draco x hermione x blaise #triad #dhr fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #blamione #draismione

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sailtomarina · 9 days

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"Don't you get it? They sent you here not because they believe you can actually cleanse the place, but rather as another sacrificial lamb." (ʘ‿ʘ)

I fucking love nuns. In this case: nunmione🛐🛐

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sailtomarina · 11 days

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Such a fun fest!! All the love to everyone who participated, and that includes all the readers and commenters 😍

HP Triad Fest 2023/4 Anonymous Master List

An act of love

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/HPTriad5/works/54771832

Summary: AU where the war goes on longer. Harry appears on the doorstep of an old friend, asking for help.

Building Bridges

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/HPTriad5/works/53607814

Clearing

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/HPTriad5/works/54782968

Summary: In the face of Lily's death, James finds healing in familiar faces.

Fates Temporal

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/HPTriad5/works/54751654

Summary: The fates were kind to Hermione during summer solstice

Flavours and Expectations

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/HPTriad5/works/54319912

With Ernie a bit of a mess at work and at heart, the chances of finding love this late in life seem low. Can a saucy chef and the serpent slayer who guards her prove him wrong?

Follow the Pawprints

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/HPTriad5/works/54154915

Harry’s Terrible, Awful, No Good, Very Bad Day

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/HPTriad5/works/54387730

Summary: A terrible day has not-so-terrible consequences.

-----------------

Harry hurled his bag in the general direction of his desk and threw himself face down on…a...person?

Sagging even more, he mumbled into the chest he faceplanted into, “This IS my bed, right?”

---------------

The Imperfect Art Of Taking The Piss As A Love Language

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/HPTriad5/works/54718363

in the bend of your elbows.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/HPTriad5/works/53482153

Summary: Hari doesn’t feel like he deserves his soulmates but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have soulmates.

The Missing Mate

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/HPTriad5/works/53427460

Summary: Regulus can't seem to stay away from the lonely werewolf when he knows his brother is away. It's as if his animagus form is drawn to Remus.

pity the living

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/HPTriad5/works/54032410

or: a look into the Golden Trio surviving their first year after the end of the War

Show me the constellations in your eyes

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/HPTriad5/works/53646349

Summary: “I don’t need to look into your eyes to know my brother is fucking dead,” Sirius shouted, and his face was so cold, a futile attempt at hiding his sadness. “You need to leave.”

“I have Regulus’ eyes, don’t you see?” Regulus asked — begged.

“They look…” James began, walking closer to them now. “They look like his, Sirius.”

“They look like a Black’s eyes,” Sirius spat.

James shook his head. “Regulus had these little black flecks at the corners that always reminded me of a constellation… These are the same, Sirius.”

When Regulus is reincarnated, the first thing on his bucket list is to make his way back to the two most important people in his life. For answers and for love.

They are yours, you are theirs, it’s that simple

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/HPTriad5/works/54917875

The Unexpected

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/HPTriad5/works/54926353

Summary: “The most beautiful love is the one that’s kept hidden, like a precious secret. A secret love is like a rose, delicate and beautiful, cherished and protected.”

Hermione has to go undercover for a mission because of poisoning and attacking of both wizards and muggles. What was thought to be a simple mission turns into more then bargained for.

The Beautiful Unexpected

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/HPTriad5/works/54798061

***

Please don’t forget to leave our Mystery Authors some love and join us in the Discord to have some fun

Discord link: https://discord.gg/xnvYazKBxE

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sailtomarina · 12 days

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There's hot, and then there's MELT YOUR FACE OFF HOT AND I JUST WANT MORE.

(also, dom nev is just nnnnnnnnnn)

New four-shot posted!

He Wanted to Play

Draco/Hermione and Neville/Pansy

Rated E, 11k, 4 chapters, complete

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sailtomarina · 12 days

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Harry Potter and the Broomstick of Fire

If Hermione had paused for just a second to watch the interaction taking place in the yard, she would have known to stop Harry. Her next action would have been to shoot two Full-Body Binds at the perpetrators before they could make their timely escape. They might be fast, but Hermione was faster.

As it was, however, she proceeded past the open window without a second glance with her eyes fixated on the freshly-baked cake currently clutched between Charlie Weasley’s mittens. The Dragonologist was visiting for Spring hols and had proceeded to take control of the kitchen like a man possessed.

“Oh, Charlie, how did you know?” Hermione crowed, swooping in with an empty stomach.

“Know what?” he asked. His brow wrinkled adorably in confusion.

“That carrot cake is my favourite, of course!” She made to dive in for a morsel, but, while she could be faster than the twins, she was no match for their older brother’s lightning-fast reflexes.

He yanked the cake up high out of reach. “Nuh-uh. No way. This needs to cool for at least a few hours.”

Hermione pouted, but the burly wizard simply raised an eyebrow as if daring her to try and trick him. She was contemplating the details of just that when the sound of a high-pitched scream invaded the space.

She knew that voice.

Plans of cake plundering pushed to the back of her mind, she darted for the back door and launched herself into the yard, Charlie hot on her heels.

Experience meant her wand was out and ready to send any threats straight into the ether. Blood pumped hard and fast, nearly thrumming with the adrenaline that had sprung her feet into action.

Except, rather than masked Death Eaters, cloaked Dementors, three-headed beasts, or some other life-threatening opponent, she faced a completely different sort of menace: Fred and George Weasley.

Their guilt in Harry’s current predicament was immediately clear in the way they folded over and wheezed in between bouts of riotous laughter, red hair glinting in the sunlight. Her jaw dropped as she took in the sight above them.

Harry rode atop a broom, which in itself wasn’t anything worth noting. He might have been born on one with how naturally he took to flight. He’d made her heart nearly stop countless times with the many stunts he’d pulled over the years, from Wronski Feints to Sloth Grip Rolls and even to Broom Surfing which she still didn’t see the point of.

Harry rode atop a fiery broom, one whose bristles were completely obscured by the force of the flames propelling him forward. He no longer screamed, all his concentration likely on controlling the rocket between his legs. His trajectory took him in loops around marshmallow clouds and sent flocks of birds squawking in protest.

“What did you do?”

The quiet calm of her voice did what no amount of screeching or pointing could; the twins shut up immediately, both sets of eyes rounding as they took in her demeanour.

“Hermione, love, Harry agreed to try out our prototype–”

“–which we’ve already tested rigorously for any defects–”

“–and only needed a professional’s hand to really push the limits–”

“–and you appreciate thorough testing, don’t you?”

Through their entire explanation, she’d watched with arms crossed as their hands inched towards their pockets.

“How long does it last?” she pressed.

Fred perked up at the sliver of hope that was a question rather than an accusation. “As long or short as he likes. He has only to say the stop phrase.”

“Does he know the phrase?”

This time it was George who hopped in with a reply. “Yes! He chose it himself, as will any of the customers who purchase their own broom.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation. “So he’s still up there because he wants to be.”

“Ex-actly,” they said together, their hands now relaxed at their sides.

“Oi, when do I get a go?” Charlie asked, to which she sent him an incredulous look. “What? I fly just as well as Harry. Better, even.”

“Boys,” she muttered even as a smirk played at the corners of her lips.

They continued to watch Harry perform an impressive array of moves in the air, many of which had Hermione bunching up the hem of her jumper. She hated the thought of him risking his life like this. She understood, of course, that flight for him was a form of freedom, one afforded him too late and sparingly in life. To her, however…

“You okay there, sweetheart?”

She blinked at the term of endearment, then to either side as Fred and George caged her between them with reassuring arms around her shoulders and waist.

“You do know we’d never intentionally endanger Harry, yeah?” Fred’s eyes were warm in their regard of her, his mouth tilted upward on one side in that endearing way of his.

“I know,” she breathed out, still nervous, “I just can’t help it. Broomsticks, and all.”

“Says the dragon rider,” George teased, to which Charlie snorted where he stood off to the side.

“That was one time,” she insisted. Still, the reminder made her feel better. The twins always buoyed her spirits. One could argue it was their jokes that did so, but Hermione knew better.

It was simply them.

Their thoughtfulness. The warmth in their eyes when they smiled at her. Maybe she was imagining it, but she thought they reserved a special version just for her.

When Harry touched down to the ground, broom back to normal and hair windswept from his exertions, she expected the wizards to pull away. The danger was over, after all, and they were just friends.

Instead, their hold on her only tightened. It was Charlie who surged forward, excitement vibrating in each of his words as he questioned Harry on the whats and hows of the prototype. If Fred and George weren’t going to move, then who was she to tell them otherwise? She was perfectly comfortable nestled between the two of them like this.

The dragon tamer whooped as he kicked off, showering them all with bits of dirt and grass. Two sets of arms swooped down to protect her face.

“Alright there, Hermione?” Fred asked. From the way he looked down at her, she could have been convinced he was asking about something else entirely.

She simply nodded, voice catching in her throat at the smiles they sent her way.

Trust her best friend to read the air and make the right decision. Clearing his throat, Harry spoke up, “I don’t know about you lot, but I’m parched. I’m heading in for a cuppa.”

Then they were alone, just the three of them huddled together and one overgrown child hollering as he sped through the sky.

“When—“ She coughed, then continued, “When do you expect to put them up for order?”

Her attention flashed to the thumb now caressing her hip. George hummed briefly before answering, “Pending Seeker approval, maybe another month? Since this is our first product partnership with Quality Quidditch Supplies, the whole process is taking longer than our usual items.”

Now that was news to her. She hadn’t the faintest inkling that they’d been in talks of a partnership with another merchant, much less one as established and far-reaching as the renown broom sellers. But if there was anyone who could convince anyone, it was Fred and George.

“Well done. Truly.”

They beamed at the praise, then exchanged a look that immediately put her on alert. It was the sort of silent communication for which they were infamous. Was she about to be a victim to another sort of WWW prototype?

“If you really want to congratulate us,” Fred started slowly, “what do you say to letting us take you out to dinner?”

“And in case there’s any misunderstanding,” George said in a follow up, “then you can be certain that we are honest-to-Godric hoping one date will turn into two, then into three–”

“–and eventually into you agreeing to be our girlfriend,” they said together.

If not for the obtrusive sound of Charlie’s yells and the whoosh of an overpowered broomstick, Hermione might have thought she was dreaming. She’d fantasised, oh, how she had fantasised about this exact possibility. Her and George. Her and Fred. Her and George and Fred. She thought maybe she was barmy to want them both. Greedy, even. That was before considering that they’d ever think of her in such a way.

Now here they were, propositioning her for just that. She’d be nuts to let the opportunity slip by.

“Yes–” she had to stamp her foot to stop them from their immediate celebration, “–on one condition.”

“Anything.”

“We’ll do anything!”

Their voices overlapped, and she grinned as she imagined how quickly that eagerness would evaporate once they heard her demands. It was a tall order, she knew, but there was no more difficult test of their sincerity.

“Give me your shares of Charlie’s carrot cake.”

They looked at her with twin expressions of horror, and she felt the slightest flutter in her tummy. Was she asking too much?

“Th-That’s the best carrot cake in the entire world,” George whispered.

“This is the only time of year he ever makes it,” Fred gasped out.

A heavy weight started to settle into place. She knew it. She’d asked too much. What was she in comparison to that heaven of decadent sponge and cream cheese frosting?

Fred turned her to look at him, dropping both hands onto her shoulders and catching her eyes within his own. “Of course we’ll give you our shares, you silly witch!”

“We’d give you all the cake in this world and the next if you demanded it.” George’s arms wrapped around her from behind as he propped his chin atop her curls.

By the time Charlie’s toes brushed grass once more, it was to witness three cake-crazed bodies hugging in a strange ritual of swaying, hopping, and giggling. He shook his head, then gently laid the broom down to the ground. There was a dinner to prepare, and he needed to make sure Harry hadn’t inhaled the helpless cake left cooling on the rack while they were all outside.

Only the Broomstick of Fire was left to bear further witness to the mirth of its creators and their muse. Theirs was a love story that would reap further headshakes and eye rolls, but none of that mattered to them in this moment. For now, they rode high on hope and the promise of sweet desserts.

WC 1763

Cross-posted on Facebook, Tumblr, and AO3.

I’m pretty sure the initial prompt sheet was posted as a joke, but I decided to run with it given the idea that popped into my mind. Originally, I’d intended for there not to be a safe phrase at all, with Harry stuck zooming through the sky with no end in sight. Hermione was supposed to trade a date for the spell to end Harry’s nightmare. Then, for an even meaner end, I thought of having them so distracted in the prospective date, that they forgot to cast the spell at all and walked away with poor Harry stuck in fire-flight. You can let me know which version you prefer 😛

#harry potter fanfiction #harry potter flashfic #Facebook: Lauren's Kitchen #Hermione granger x Fred Weasley x George weasley #Hermione x Fred x george

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sailtomarina · 13 days

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oversize sweaters forever

hermione + cozy outfits + tiring study sessions

(drew this at the library while being surrounded by other stressed out students and academics, felt very fitting)

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sailtomarina · 13 days

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This is me screaming at the top of my lungs for this wonderful writer bringing in hunky Charlie to the established Dramione. This is so hot, your clothes might just combust reading it.

New one-shot posted!

Miserably Turned On

Draco/Hermione invite Charlie in

Rated E

Complete, 3.6k

Tags: established relationship, possessive/jealous/simp Draco, cuckolding, begging, pure smut literally no plot

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sailtomarina · 14 days

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Charlie and the Chomping Cabbages

Watching Charlie Weasley had never been so rewarding. He’d done you the favour of pulling off his shirt in the midday heat, sweat perfectly outlining every single one of his ridiculously toned muscles. Shoulders and chest broad enough to wrestle young dragons and abs you could bounce a roll of Galleons off of. The leather breeches he wore clung to his arse as he squatted down to inspect the garden.

“And you think a dragon did this?” He pointed at the long gouges in the earth marring the once perfect line of Chinese Chomping Cabbages. A fair few still remained, but more still had been ripped from their cradles and strewn across the plot.

“I don’t think; I know.” You raised a challenging brow. No matter how fit you thought him, you knew he was dead wrong in this matter. “I saw it happen.”

This time he fully stood up, both hands propped on his hips in a decidedly aggravated manner. “Why didn’t you just say so from the start?”

“I did,” you stressed, already near your boiling point from the sheer thickheadnesses of the Dragonologist. “And I quote, ‘That can’t be right. I need to see the scene first hand’.”

He scowled at your impression. Perhaps dropping your voice to a comical low and waving your arms about wasn’t quite the best way to convince him. What he didn’t know was that you’d never have teased anyone you didn’t like in such a way. Your usual tendency was all straight backs and stiff collars.

“Well, I stand by what I said then. I see no reason why a dragon would attack your cabbages like this unprovoked.”

You pounced. “Aha! So you admit that, if provoked, a dragon very well might have dragged their stabby claws right through?” Only, instead of jumping in place like you meant to, your ankle rolled upon landing. “Ahh!”

Your arms flailed as you fought to stay upright, and Charlie threw his arms forward in an attempt to catch you. All of his mass amounted to nothing with your legendary clumsiness, and you both hit the dirt in an unceremonial thud that knocked the breath right out of you.

The loss of air could also be attributed to his body on top of yours.

“Ow.” He started to shift, then froze before he could fully lift his weight. “Don’t look to your left.”

You looked to your left.

A gigantic cabbage bared its teeth an arm’s length away from your face. How you’d tended your garden without noticing what could be an award-winning Brassica you’d have to consider later.

“Ch-Charlie? How is not looking at it going to help?” you whispered. Who were you kidding? It’s not like speaking quietly was going to save either one of you.

“Merlin, he’s huge,” the wizard muttered. You stifled an inappropriate joke. Difficult, given the way your smaller body fit against his.

You knew you only had precious seconds before the produce launched itself at you. Your magic wasn’t quite fast enough to cast anything particularly useful before those teeth ripped out your throat. You needed something hard, and fast.

Hard and expendable, so obviously not that.

“On the count of three, shove off,” you instructed Charlie, keeping a close eye on the twitching leaves. You felt him nod, the bristle of his cheek rubbing against your own.

Inner green leaves started to arch inward. “1.”

The outer layer flared open like a lizard’s crest. “2.”

Clenched teeth loosened. “3!”

Palms flat to the earth, Charlie pushed himself away in a surge of power, and you brought your far hand around in front of you.

The weapon: a stray carrot that had rolled against where you lay.

The attack: jamming said carrot straight into the jaws about to devour you.

An average-sized Chinese Chomping Cabbage can be slowed down by a larger-than-average root vegetable. This, however, was the largest specimen you’d ever seen, and your carrot was on the smaller end of the spectrum.

Beggars can’t be choosers.

Its sacrifice gave you just enough time to roll away and for Charlie to sweep you up and into his arms. The cantankerous comestible hesitated just long enough to snap straight through the carrot before rotating to follow.

By this point, Charlie had whipped out his wand, while his other arm held you close against him where he could keep you safe. Unfortunately, this meant that you couldn’t quite reach your own wand jammed below your armpit. With a series of slashes, Charlie attacked.

“Diffindo!”

The slicing spell would have sheared straight through a regular cabbage. This one? Only the top couple of layers peeled away, further enraging their attacker.

“Charlie! This isn’t your average dinner cabbage! You have to use something stronger!” You fought his hold so you could grab your own wand.

“I’m trying! It’s not like I’ve ever done this before!”

Your wand came loose from its holster just as the behemoth rolled towards you, teeth clacking the whole while. The two of you stood with arms extended, sending spell after spell at the monster that never seemed to shrink or slow.

You could stand your ground and be forever known as the first recorded humans on the Romanian Reserve to die by Chomping Cabbage, or you could run and henceforth be labelled as the tamer and researcher who fled an overgrown vegetable.

Decisions, decisions.

One that was made for you with the loud roar that filled the air, then a gush of wind that nearly knocked the two of you right back to the ground. A flash of red filled your vision.

“Norberta!” Charlie cried.

The Norwegian Ridgeback couldn’t quite flatten the cabbage with one swat of her powerful talons, but she could follow it with a slash of her tail and a stream of fire. An overwhelming stench of burnt vegetation filled your nostrils.

“Ugh. So long cabbage rolls and salad,” Charlie said in disgust. He gently turned you to look up at him. “You alright?”

Sweaty and covered with dirt as you both were, sex should have been the last thing on your mind. You’d just escaped death. A deadly dragon continued to stomp through the remaining rows of cabbages. Your crops were a lost cause. But Charlie looked down at you and only you, the deep blue of his eyes drinking you in while he continued to cradle you close.

“I told you Noberta had it out for my cabbages.”

His jaw dropped at your words, and you laughed aloud. As if you’d let his hunkiness deter you from proving yourself right. Charlie threw his head back and laughed along with you, the fullness of it invading your chest and giving you the courage you’d lacked until this point.

Up went your hands into his wild auburn locks, threading fingers through the curls and tugging his lips down to yours. He jerked in surprise at the touch, then deepened the kiss with a tilt of his head and a swipe to the seam of your lips.

And that was the story of how you snagged Charlie Weasley, one you told time and time again over countless flagons of beer and fresh-from-the-oven cabbage rolls (minus the teeth).

WC 1203

Cross-posted to Facebook, Tumblr, & AO3.

Hump Day drabble written for the Weasleys, Witches, & Writers Facebook group.

Prompt: “I’ve never done this before.”

Okay, so I blasted past the 1k word limit. See what 2 weeks away from home does to me? (and coffee too late in the day)

I have an intense craving now for cabbage rolls, the likes of which my childhood friend’s mother used to serve up to us on a regular basis. I haven’t tasted that nostalgia in what feels like years.

Chinese Chomping Cabbage users unite! Who needs spells when you have carnivorous vegetables?

I almost forgot to note my infrequent use of 2nd person. I recently started playing with this following a pov workshop in one of my writing discords. Let me know what you think!

#harry potter fanfiction #harry potter flashfic #Facebook: Weasleys Witches & Writers #charlie weasley x reader #reader insert #charlie weasley

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sailtomarina · 15 days

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Theo=love

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

THEODORE NOTT— a popular slytherin, an introvert at heart, despite his reputation as a womanizer. theodore nott, who has a big, terrible communication problem.

with the pure terror of displaying his vulnerable emotions, theodore smokes cigarettes to force his emotions to disappear with the wind; bites his inner lip and cheek until his mouth bleeds, so no tears threaten to make way to his eyes.

when theodore nott cries, he stares blankly into the wall. he doesn't sob— sobbing would make him even weaker, more vulnerable, less capable and definitely useless, in his father's eyes.

silent tears are the epitome of theodore's sadness, because other than that, his sadness, stress and troubled thoughts are never known. hidden by a mask of stoic expressions.

theodore nott is 'stupid' smart. if he wasn't a slytherin at heart and soul, then he'd be a ravenclaw, or at least that's what the professors comment amongst them. theo enjoys reading, and would easily spend his afternoon on a silent, vacant corner of the castle, devouring a book in few hours.

he lies, saying that it's simply because knowledge is a good weapon. he'd be saying the truth, if theodore confesses that he reads this much, because whether be it fiction or not, he can escape his thoughts to fully concentrate on the book's contents.

theodore nott is knowledgeable, theodore nott is a good, straight-A's student. theodore nott is quick-witted; you wouldn't want to banter with him, because usually, he gets the last word with a victorious, cheeky smile— an insufferable cocky grin.

and yet, shamefully, theodore nott has no idea how to verbalize his feelings.

every good liar is like this, he'd argue. in exchange of spilling the most atrocious lies with a straight face and nonchalant tone, theodore finds it awfully hard to tell the truth.

ask him what's wrong— you can do that, sure. now, if theodore will answer you, that's another story. and to give you a genuine answer, if he doesn't snap? then an angel must have fallen down its altar.

then, if he can't verbalize or trust anyone, not even mattheo riddle or lorenzo berkshire on a good day— what does theodore nott do, to deal with his full mind and empty heart?

theodore nott destroys.

he destroys other living beings,

being the first one to join mattheo riddle, with a smile on his face, when his best friend snaps at the smallest hint of disrespect. throwing a (not really) deserved punch at a guy that honestly, if you ask him afterwards, theodore has no idea what he done wrong.

when lorenzo scolds mattheo for starting a fight and reprimands theodore for indulging it, the slytherin simply shrugs. he's "looking out for his bro", he says. that's only partially true, as much as he deeply cares for mattheo.

everytime that he starts fights, like a rabid dog. theodore doesn't really know when he stopped being il dolce ragazzo of his madre. when he became a dog that bites without thinking about barking first. "so much for claiming to be the logical one," — lorenzo muses.

... he destroys himself.

which would explain the concerning amount of muggle, wizarding, flavored, all shaped packs of cigarettes he owns. there isn't a brand that he didn't try, at least once— the more harmful, the better.

smoking until his lungs become as black as his heart, as his dark thoughts. smoking, until he drops dead with his worries. smoking, until theodore nott becomes a better man (something that he doubts he could do, for he was born a broken man— born from a couple that should have never crossed paths with each other).

consequently, damaging his hands. skin that becomes calloused and slightly scarred from the cigarettes. knuckles constantly bruised from throwing punches at gryffindors or smartass ravenclaws.

so, theodore nott starts believing that he's unlovable. that loving him— oh, that would be torture. pure masochism, that he wouldn't wish to anyone, not even the witch he dislikes or rolls his eyes at the most.

and that becomes a creeping fear of his. oh, theodore is terrified, when the thought of becoming like his father plagues his mind.

to think that he'd become such a disgusting man, the man who brought so much pain to his mother, that killed the only person who truly loved him.

what would his mother say, if she saw him like this?

would she be disappointed, would she be ashamed to even spare a look at him? would her beautiful porcelain face become a frown, would she walk away, disgusted?

theodore consumes three more cigarettes on that thought alone.

... or would she give him a sympathetic look, gazing at her dolce, bravo ragazzo with those tender eyes of hers? a shade of blue, that theodore was fortunate to inherit.

a sad smile makes its way to his lips. because now, even for a brief moment, theo is himself again. he's not a casanova slytherin, he's not the heir of the nott family. theodore nott is simply his mother's little boy, her teddy.

in honor of such bittersweet memories, theo drops his cigarette and doesn't smoke for at least 24 hours.

theo doesn't know how to deal with comfort. genuinely tender touches, fingertips grazing his skin so lightly—

of desperately needy, lustful touches, he knows. he knows them very well, from all those times he slept with a woman, ruined her for the next guy. from the times a slytherin girl gripped and pushed his hair, needing, begging more of his mouth on her; or when a gryffindor got so lost in pleasure that she left the mark of her nails on his back; when a hufflepuff senior clenched her fingers on his torso, hips and shoulders, screaming for more, deeper, faster; that time when he found a way to shut up a particularly insufferable ravenclaw know-it-all by fucking her mouth, and when he felt the back of her throat on him, the stubborn ravenclaw gripped, scratched, protested on his thighs.

of harsh, violent, cruel, merciless touches, everytime mr. nott decided that a disgusted, disappointed gaze wasn't enough to educate his son. when those knuckles adorned with rings curled into a fist, and theodore was beaten into discipline. all those times he started fights and consequently got hit by a punch or two, even though theodore is a good fighter, and makes sure that even if he does get hurt, the receiving end is in worse state, in need of more than one night in the infirmary wing.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

... but comforting, meant to soothe, gentle touches? oh, theo is terrified of them. rather than flinching away from a fist coming his way, theo looks like a scaredy cat when fingers come to brush his hair away from his face, with all the love and care of the world.

theo doesn't know those touches. to be fair, yes, he was acquainted with them once— but that was long, long ago, when his mother was still alive. a life ago, really, because sometimes theodore wonders if he's the same teddy he once was, under the protective but loving arms of his mother.

so at first, theo panics when you hug him, when you physically bring comfort to his broken, damaged heart.

but then?

then, after he gets a taste of how heavenly it feels to be held by someone he loves? then, theo embraces the fact that he is indeed a touch starved man. then, theo completely and shamelessly melts under your touch, relaxing in your embrace, wishing to never leave this safe haven.

( or maybe he does. a little voice on the back of his mind, menacingly suggesting that this safe haven, this loving harbor — you — might disappear into thin air by the cruel hands of his father, the same he did with his mother. )

but before his truly prodigious brain dares to overthink once again— your hands comb through his hair, brushing it back along with his worries, massaging the scalp and melting the troubled thoughts away. that's when theo closes his eyes. that's when he, finally, is in peace with himself.

and if you'd ask him; this is when and where theodore nott is the happiest. this is when theodore nott is teddy again.

౨ৎ these voices in my head screaming ♡ ͡

run now. i'm praying that they're human . . .

🪻 ; . . . fandom : harry potter.

— my motivation? it's a silly little drabble, about my favorite slytherin. theodore nott deserves love, seriously.

the headers + gifs + icons aren't mine. credits to the respective creators ! 🌷

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sailtomarina · 15 days

Note

Partial self-rec, partial get out there and fall in love with ronsy already!

could i get some ransy propaganda? The poll thing has me curious!!!

is it ransy or ronsy oh who cares you want fic recs?? i’ll give you fic recs

a travesty to remember by @sailtomarina

time and turn enough by pocketfullof

everything in this world by pocketfullof

i really (really really really) like you by teenage_hustler

yours, viola by cryptaknight

sweet nothing by juniordreamer

and must be counterfeit by yours truly

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sailtomarina · 16 days

Text

I write far less dhr lately, but this recalls me to where I started and reminds me how much I still adore these two from the bottom of my heart.

Spring

The coming of spring starts well before the first petals form.

The seeds in the ground dance with each other, mixing soil and root as they sprout up out of the nurturing earth, a mass of green dotted by vibrant colours breathing in the welcoming wind.

Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy go through the same process.

—

Change is often accompanied by pain.

The scar on the inside of her forearm burns fiercely enough that she grinds her bottom teeth constantly and aggressively.

(To the dismay of her gentle father, who no longer remembers her but who he has welcomed in the humble dentist’s office he and his wife own.)

The mark on his pounds sticky guilt through his veins and into the four equally pained chambers of his worthless heart.

(No, he will not write his father in Azkaban, nor the friends who reach out and seek a boy who is no longer there.)

An acrid stench, with notes of failure and sorrow, follows them through the corridors of a once comforting castle and seeps into the roughened pages they bow their heads over.

Loneliness, that ever pervasive bell that hearkens a weary heart, brings the two of them together in the same library one candle-lit evening.

Draco Malfoy is cruel, but not enough that she curses him with her wand. She has enough venom in her too, and they spit forked insults at each other for the first quarter hour they share a table.

She demands he use any of the other empty tables.

He insists he likes this one just fine.

Because she is stubborn, and he feeds off his own pettiness, they accidentally start a routine.

“I hate your guts—”

“The feeling is mutual, you twit—”

“You are so full of yourself, Granger, you know that?”

“At least I didn’t run to daddy every time even the smallest thing—”

“Careful—”

“I will not. You think you have any right to aggrandise me when your bloody aunt—”

“It wasn’t me!”

“It was enough that you watched!”

“So, what, you want an apology—”

“Don’t you dare utter a word of it unless you’re ready to mean it—”

—

“GET OUT!”

“YOU GET OUT!”

“I will not—hang on, you’ve written this rune down incorrectly. It’s meant to start with—”

“Granger, I swear to Merlin—”

—

“I suppose you think you’re funny.”

“I do, actually.” She laughs at the image of Malfoy’s pointy face engraved in the wood. She thinks she did a rather fine job getting each snobby angle. Wood, she has found, can be a rather tricky medium to use for creating an accurate portrait.

“Who knew the prim Hermione Granger would desecrate school property—”

The engraved drawing vanishes from the desk with a wave of her hand. The only marks left are the scuffs and scratches left by decades of Hogwarts students.

He raises an unamused eyebrow. She gives him her first real smile. Her cheeks only mildly hurt from disuse.

—

Eventually, antivenin in the form of hesitant smiles and surprise gestures. They become friends of sorts, the type that have skipped over social pleasantries and have moved straight into criticising each other’s essays and finding jest in the activities of their fellow eighth years.

Neville And Pansy? Hermione is shocked. Draco only smirks and tells her of the rendezvouses he has unfortunately beared witness to in various corners of the castle.

Bill Weasley has accepted the proposition to teach the rest of the term in Defence Against the Dark Arts when Professor McGonagall decides she can no longer substitute the oft-maligned position along with her duties as Headmistress.

Hermione only cries a little when she thinks of poor Professor Lupin.

No one is surprised when Lavender and Padma share a fiery first kiss born out of jealousy in the Great Hall.

Outside, snow defrosts. The stalk of a flower perks up its renewed head.

—

Spring is coming, and with that the tumult of plans of those whose last year at Hogwarts brings on a bittersweet effect.

They were hard years, thinks Hermione thinks Draco thinks Ginny Neville Dean. So many of them were war heroes before their acne had cleared, and now they’re being thrust into an entirely new skirmish: adulthood.

But for now, the first flowers have bloomed.

Dots of blues, reds, and whites colour the landscape of dreary Scotland, overtaking the cold winter and its allies of hurt.

Hermione’s arm hurts less these days. Hagrid says it’s normal for injuries to hurt less in the warmer months. She agrees, and hides a smile when she sees a tall form with obnoxiously bright white-blond hair walk down the stone path, on the way to a meeting spot they’d just discovered last week.

This school never ceases to surprise.

Draco’s chest isn’t completely full, and he doesn’t think it ever will be, but he relishes in the uptick of his heart when he sees a certain curly-haired witch. She walks towards him, her long hair plaited to the side, the sun casting her eyes in its halo.

They sit on the leg of a moss-covered willow tree. Hermione tells Draco a story about a wood nymph who had waited three-hundred days and nights for her mortal lover who’d been seized by a hungry war, and it was only when the last of her strength was sapped, and the tree she called home lost all its leaves and its branches drooped, did her lover finally come back to her, his face ashen and his walk a gait from all the pain he’d endured.

His touch brought her back from the call of death in Hades’ great halls, and she encased his pain in her chest so that he would not have to bear it alone.

“Took him long enough,” says Draco, scowling.

“Love’s worth waiting for, I think,” says Hermione, smiling.

They look at each other.

The flowers flowing at their feet perk up, waiting, knowing a moment is about to come. Has to come.

When Draco leans in to kiss his nymph, she startles and, looking to grip onto something to stop her fall, grabs onto the lapels of his school robes, bringing them both toppling over onto soft grass.

The hanging willow groans in irritation. The flowers only mildly complain at being squashed by the two humans who are tangled in each other's arms, breathing in each other’s air, sweet, like spring.

#dhr #dhr fanfiction #draco malfoy x hermione granger

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