#*Ron Weasley voice: Can we panic now?!*
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THE STRANGEST OF PLACES - Chapter Twenty Three
draco x fem!ravenclaw reader / postwar au series
warnings: strong language, sexual themes, implied sex, bit steamy but hey, they deserve it, right? ;) (characters are 18+)
wc: 3466
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The Element of Surprise
Draco lands with a thud just outside the Weasley's home. He pulls himself off the ground and dusts down his black suit trousers. As he looks up to gather his surroundings, he notices the most delicious smell protruding the air and the sound of laughter coming from inside the topsy turvy building that the Weasley family calls home. Light is spilling out from the wonky windows, casting long golden paths over the ground, as he cautiously moves to peak inside the nearest window.
"So, we waited for Goyle to come around the corner," George Weasley, one of the red heads that Draco recognises, is telling a story that seems to have the table in stitches, "and as soon as he did, he spots the cupcakes - which we'd put Puking Pastilles in, don't forget - and being the greedy so and so he is, eats them all up," laughter sparks up again, "but the best bit hasn't even happened yet, because just as he gollops down the last one, Millicent Bulstrode - you remember her, Harry? Plump, nasty little thing in Slytherin? - shows up just as Goyle's greedy guts come spilling out all over the place… and all over her!"
Another roar of laughter from everyone, but Draco can only see so far down the table. The other end is obscured by the kitchen cabinets. He can see Potter, Ginny Weasley, George, Granger and, of course, Weaselbee. He fears if he moves anymore, they'll see him, and he still hasn't decided on his course of action. Naturally, Weaselbee won't take kindly to his presence, and there's the possibility that you'll want him driven out as well. Not to mention the other Weasleys, or Potter for that matter. No one in that room particularly liked him. But then, as he's pondering his options and not paying attention to how visible he is, he hears a loud HEY! from just inside.
"What the bloody hell is he doing here?" Ron shouts, getting up off his chair and pointing at the window, as Hermione gets up to see what on earth he was talking about, "get off my property you bloody idiot!"
"Oh my God," Hermione exclaims, and starts telling everyone to sit down and not panic, "I'll go and see to him- oh, no, Mrs Weasley please sit down- Mr Weasley there's no need for wands- RON! GET BACK HERE!"
Startled, Draco can barely move from witnessing all the commotion he's caused by just standing there, as Ron comes barging through the door and into the front yard, a face like thunder.
"Explain yourself," Ron points an angry finger, "you have no business here, Malfoy."
"Malfoy?" Harry's voice comes from behind Ron, who moves aside to see Hermione storming over with Harry in toe, "what on earth are you doing here?"
"Get back inside, both of you," Hermione instructs them, but it seems to fall on deaf ears.
"Come to curse me, Potter?" Draco smirks, shoving his hands in his pockets, "'fraid I'm not here for a duel in the loo. I'd like to speak to Granger, if you gentlemen don't mind."
"Hermione?" Ron scoffs, "what do you want with her? I'll hex you into next week-"
"BOTH OF YOU. INSIDE. RIGHT NOW," Hermione bellows, coming between the three of them, "and you, Malfoy, keep it zipped or I'll hex you into next week. Ron," she spins abruptly to face him and jab a finger into his chest, "you have soup to finish. Inside. Now."
The rest of the family were all pressed against the window, trying to get a glimpse of the drama unfolding outside. Reluctantly, Ron and Harry make their way back into the house, looking back and chuntering between themselves. Out of everyone he was expecting to run into, the one person he was most eager to see hadn't shown themselves..
"Come with me," Hermione said, grabbing Draco by the arm and taking them away from the prying eyes at the window to the edge of the wood near Ron's home, "I can't believe you've shown, what happened? Did you leave Astoria?"
"I can explain later," he dismisses her questions, "she's here, right? Or is she hiding inside because she hates me that much?"
"That's not it," said Hermione, "well, I'm not sure about the 'hate you' part... she's not come out to see you because, well... she's not here."
"At all?" Draco raises his eyebrows, and Hermione shakes her head, "you have to be kidding me, I just caused all that ruckus for you to say she's not even here? Where is she, then? Wait.. don't fucking tell me. Chambers asked her out again, didn't he? Slimy git."
"She's not with Edward," Hermione says loudly, and Draco's angry mumbling stops, "in fact, she's not with anyone. She didn't come tonight because she didn't feel like it... can't say she's in the best frame of mind right now."
Draco's guilt hits him once again. Picturing you, alone and miserable, because of everything that he's done. Everything that he said to you that night; it stall haunts him, so he's not surprised if it haunts you, too. You don't even want to see your friends - he's well and truly done a number.
"Where is she right now?" He then asks, in all seriousness, and Hermione sighs.
"She's at home," she tells him, "as far as I know, she's spending the last few days before graduation there. She... doesn't want to be at Hogwarts right now."
"Then we'll go to her," Draco said, getting his wand from his pocket, "location?"
"It's in a muggle village, Malfoy, you can't just apparate there," she explains frantically, "Merlin knows who will see you, and besides, I'm not entirely sure how she'll react-"
"Can you stop waffling on?" said Draco irritably, holding his arm out for her to take, "the quicker you give me a location the faster we'll get there."
Hermione hesitates slightly, but grips his arm anyway, and within a few moments, the world around them is swirling and contorting into a jumbled mix of colours and sounds, until eventually, they both land on a hard tarmac road in the middle of a quiet muggle village. Draco sways slightly from the second apparition of the day as Hermione steadies herself. He looks around at the road they appeared on - houses, all similar in structure, line the streets. Each had a little garden at the front, with trees and flower pots lining the paths that winded through the quaint village. It was quiet, almost silent, with street lamps that lit the way up the road.
"I should've told Ron we were leaving," Hermione then complains, more to herself, "he'll be thinking you've kidnapped me or something."
"Don't worry," Draco jokes, "Old Weaselbee knows I'd be sending you back in a heartbeat."
Hermione shoots him a look of displeasure, before pointing at the street before them.
"Y/N's house is just up ahead," she explains, "come on."
They walk, in silence, up the winding road, passing muggle cars, street signs and phone boxes. Eventually, Hermione stops in front of a house right at the end of the street. Plant pots decorate the front of the house with flowers of all colours. A car sits in the driveway, and a black cat scurries from underneath it and crosses the freshly mowed grass, to disappear behind a trimmed hedge. Draco watches as its tail slithers out of sight, before looking up at the front of the house. A light is on in the very top window.
"That's her room," Hermione points out, and turns to face the blond Slytherin, "if you say anything to upset her, I'll personally see to your demise, Malfoy." She gives him a stern look that reminds him of his mother, and then prepares to apparate back to the Burrow, "just knock. I think her parents are out tonight. I really should get back before Ron sends out a search party."
"Thanks, Granger," Draco said sincerely, "I owe you one."
"Just don't hurt her ever again," said Hermione, readying her wand, “I'll consider that repayment."
Soon enough, with a flick of her wand, she was gone into the night, and Draco was standing alone in front of your house, in a muggle street, in a muggle village. He hesitates to knock, but raps his knuckles on the painted wood and waits for a reply. Nothing happens for a long moment, so he goes to knock again, when he hears the door unlock from the otherside. After a few excruciating seconds, the door creaks open to reveal a sight Draco could never get tired of.
You, shock all over your face and a baggy hoodie over your frame, looking back at him like you've just seen a ghost, and yet, he's never seen a more beautiful being. He aches to pull you in, but knows, just from your expression, you wouldn't welcome him so easily.
"Why are you here?" is the first thing you say, your voice quiet and cautious.
Draco notices the way you observe him cautiously, as if you were ready for him to say something that would only cause you more heartache. He can't stand it - the way you don't fully show yourself to him, how you look at him like he's hurt you. He wants to take it away, to make it better, and so, he slowly inches closer to the doorway.
"I came here," he says softly, eyes never leaving you, "because I had to see you. Speak to you." He stops just before the doorway, inches away from you now.
"But you chose her," you croak, and his heart breaks all over again, "you chose them."
"And I'm a fucking idiot," he laughs sadly, "please, please, Y/N. Can we at least talk? That's all I'm asking. Afterwards, I'll leave and never come back if that's what you want."
After some slight hesitation, you let him inside and softly shut the door behind you both. Draco notices the warm feeling your home seems to have. Family portraits and photos of you in your Hogwarts uniform over the years cover the walls and surfaces. You tell him to wait in the living room as you brew a pot of tea, leaving him to wander around whilst he waits. He looks at the photos individually; some of just you, some of you and your parents, even some of you and Granger in your younger years. There are trinkets, a mug that says 'Best Daddy Ever' and some drawings you must have made as a child. Everything in the room reminds him that a family lives there, and that they love each other. Something he's never really seen before.
"Here," you announce as you enter the room, placing the tray on the coffee table, "we only have breakfast tea. Hope that's okay."
"That's perfect," he smiles across at you, and you return it slightly before pouring tea into two china cups. He takes a seat on the couch as you pass him a fresh cup, to which he thanks you. For a moment, you both sip tea and say nothing, until Draco breaks that silence.
"Your house is very nice," he compliments, looking across at you, noticing how you're reluctant to look him in the eye, "I wish my home was as welcoming as this."
"This house is nothing compared to yours," you scoff lightly, and he smiles.
"Yeah," he breathes, "exactly."
"How did you know where I was?" you ask him, still refusing to meet his gaze.
"I know some people," he says lightheartedly, but then turns serious, "very good people."
You don't answer that. Your best hunch is Hermione, but how he knew where to find her was beyond you. After all, she'd never disclosed what she was up to in the dungeons that night. A thick silence falls over you again, but the question you really wanted to ask him was hanging by a thread at your lips.
"So," you suddenly say, voice a lot bolder than before, "are you here because you're an engaged, sorry idiot who wants to clear his conscience?"
He places his cup down, and turns to face you. When you don't respond, he gently places a hand on your face and brings your eyes to his. There's a look of pure emotion and genuinity in them, as he rubs his thumb across your cheek, and then along your bottom lip.
"Engaged, no," he whispers to you, "but sorry idiot? That I am."
It takes you a second to process his words, but then the frown on your face evens out and a look of relief washes over you, eyes brightening to shine a little like they used to, and Draco's heart swells to double its size.
"You didn't do it," you mutter, and he shakes his head.
"No, angel, I didn't," his hand moves slightly to rest against your neck, the coldness of his rings causing goosebumps on your skin, "I had a little help... to realise what a fool I was being."
"But what about your parents? Astoria? Aren't you in heaps of trouble now?" you said, concern replacing your relaxed features, "aren't they going to make your life hell?"
"No more than usual," he smirks playfully, eyes flickering over your face like they used to, as if he's memorising every inch of it, "but I don't give a shit about that right now. Right now," he pauses, before taking both of your hands in his, "I just need you to hear something."
You allow him to take his time, as his thumbs run over your knuckles a few times, before he brings them to his lips and kisses each of them delicately.
"Y/N," he mutters against your hand, pressing one last kiss for good measure, "my precious, beautiful girl," he looks up and your eyes lock, "I was so unreasonably cruel to you that night in the woods. I guess I just didn't know how it would feel... to lose something so important to me."
He takes a break, and looks down at your intertwined hands. You remain silent.
"I let you down, and I understand if you never want to see me again after this," he takes a deep breath before looking up again, "but, if you can find it in your heart to forgive me for being so unbelievably late, then I promise to give you the world. Everything I have. All that I am," tears begin to well at the corners of his eyes, "because I'm so in love with you, Y/N. Mind, body and soul, I love you."
A tear trickles down your cheek, and he wipes it away with his thumb. You look at him for a long moment; the man you've come to love, the man who has completed the other half of your soul. A few months back, if someone had said to you that one day, Draco Malfoy would be confessing his feelings for you on your couch, in your muggle home, you'd think they were insane.
But right now, as he looks at you as if the world resides in your eyes, it feels like the most sane thing to happen in weeks. You take your hands from his and cup his jaw, feeling the way he leans into your touch with such contentment. He kisses your palm, gently holding your wrist.
"I love you," you whisper, and those steely grey eyes find yours once more, "I love and have loved you, Draco Malfoy. For longer than you might think."
He smiles a watery smile, and his eyes drop to your lips. Hunger swims in them, and you'd be lying if you said you hadn't waited for this moment with utter anticipation. "Kiss me," is all you can manage to mutter, and he wastes no time in obliging to that. His lips capture yours in a hot, hungry kiss, his hands taking your face as yours fist at his shirt. You feel his fingers lace in your hair, pulling a satisfied sound from your lips. He swallows it eagerly, tilting his head to deepen the kiss and run his tongue along your bottom lip. Of course, you allow him access, and he pulls you impossibly close to his body, thumbs rubbing small circles just under your ears. It's blissful and full of passion, his lips breaking from yours to kiss across your jaw and down under your ear, to rest at the pulse point in your neck.
"Fuck I love you,” he purrs against the sweet spot, leaving wet kisses as your hands snake up to tangle in his hair, “my angel, my darling girl.”
“Stay with me,” you find yourself pleading softly, as his gaze returns to your hazy expression, “sleep beside me, Draco. Please.”
Hastily, his lips find yours once more in a rushed, messy kiss. You can taste the wine on his lips, and feel his emotion simply through the way he handles you - as if you were a prized possession he simply cannot break.
“There’s nothing I want more,” he said breathlessly, so you take him by the hand, and lead him through the house to the comfort of your bedroom.
Hours seem to pass. His hands wander - and you let them. Just the two of you, enjoying one another in complete harmony, in solace and peace. You’re sure, at this point, there’s not an inch of you he hasn’t kissed, and there’s not an inch of his skin you haven’t touched. It was innocent and vulnerable; just two people, hopelessly in love, savouring each another.
"You’re so beautiful," he breathes against your bare shoulder, pressing tender kisses to the skin as you lay there, tucked safely under the duvet, back pressed to his chest, “thank you,” he mumbles, “for trusting me with you.”
You hum, turning over to face him. He looks so at peace; features soft and sleepy. Draco truly was the most handsome man you’d ever laid eyes on. Gently, you smooth back his hair and press a light kiss to the corner of his mouth.
"Thank you," you whisper to him, "for coming back.”
You feel his hand at the small of your back, pulling your body into his. His fingers brush hair behind your ear, and then trace down your jaw to your chin, where he gently brings you in for a soft, tender kiss. His lips linger against yours for a long moment.
"I would have lived every day in regret if I hadn't," he confesses quietly, your limbs intertwined and skin pressed against skin, "I should be thanking you, for giving me the courage."
"Me?" you furrow your eyebrows, "but you did this, Draco. You came here, despite all the odds."
"Do you remember that night we sat in the attic? That room with the big window," he recalls, and you nod, smiling to yourself at the memory, "well, I passed that staircase and, I don't know, it just... flooded back to me. All those memories, the way you make me feel... I just knew, in that moment, I couldn't do it. I couldn't be without you."
"Oh, Draco," you sigh lovingly, nuzzling your nose against his, "you are truly a treasure, my love."
My love. He wants to hear that every day for the rest of his life. Draco closes his eyes, relishing in the love and comfort you provide him, feeling the delicate little kisses you place on his cheek. He's unworthy of such affection, unworthy of feeling your skin on his, gliding his fingertips over the crevices of your body. He's obsessed. Entranced. His entire being and every sense is overtaken by your scent, your touch. And he is at peace, despite what the morning may bring, at this very moment, he is at peace.
"What happens now?" you then ask cautiously, and he opens his eyes into yours, "about your parents... what will they do?"
"Despite what they may think, I'm a legal adult," he smirks, and some sort of relief flickers in your eyes at his lightheartedness, "but, they might have a few things to say. They'll get over it, they have to. You're mine now, after all."
A triumphant grin spreads across his handsome face, a light pink blush spreading over your cheeks at the sentiment. Once more, he presses his lips to yours; not once, twice, but three times, taking his sweet time in parting on the last one.
"Whatever happens," you whisper against his mouth, "I'm here for you. Always."
"In that case, anything is possible, angel," he said sweetly as you cuddle into his chest, the sudden urge to sleep overbearing, "but, for now, let's just rest, hm? Think we deserve it."
A little hum of agreement passes your lips, eyes growing heavy as sleep greets your peacefully. Draco, who had forgotten how exhausted he truly was, feels his eyes droop willingly, as his breathing evens out, and a well needed sleep finally takes over.
Whatever the dawn may bring, you will face it.
Together.
disclaimer: i do not own hp or any of the characters in this story
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The Dementor
Warning! This chapter contains mentions of abuse. If this triggers you or makes you feel uncomfortable, please don't read.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
Songs Featured In This Chapter:
I Want To Hold Your Hand - The Beatles
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You woke up to the sound of Percy and Ron shouting. Something about Penelope Clearwater? You didn't want to know.
"Good morning, Bella," you said, giving her some owl pellets. She looked at the bowl, and then looked back at you, it looked like she was offended.
"I know you don't want that gross stuff," you said, caressing her feathers. "I promise you'll eat something more satisfying once we get to school."
You went into the bathroom and checked the mirror. Right below your right eye, a bruise was already starting to form. You could see red and purple. You started to panic. Whenever your stepfather hit you, your mom would use magic to cover up your bruises. But you weren't allowed to use magic yet, and you didn't know anything about makeup.
Tears started to roll down your cheeks. What would Harry, Ron, and Hermione think? What would the Weasleys think? What would George think? What would you say to them?
You wiped your tears away. "It's gonna be okay," you said shakily. "Everything's gonna be okay."
Before you went downstairs for breakfast, you checked your trunk to see if you packed everything you needed.
"School books.... uniform......permission slip...... Walkman......muggle books...." you muttered to yourself. "That should be it," you said, closing your trunk.
You headed downstairs (after hearing more shouting from Percy) and found Mr. Weasley reading The Prophet and Mrs. Weasley talking with Hermione and Ginny.
"What happened to your cheek, Y/N?" Mr. Weasley asked as you sat down.
You tried to think of something you could tell her as fast as you could. You knew somebody was going to ask at some point, but for some reason you didn't think of something to say sooner.
"I ran into a pole in Diagon Alley, I'm fine," you said.
"Hm, alright," Mr. Weasley said, feeling like you weren't telling the truth, but he ignored it, going back to reading his paper.
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After breakfast, there was chaos everywhere. Everyone bringing down their trunks, Percy once again yelling at Ron, and Fred and George were swiping some of Percy's stuff.
"Okay, I just need to bring down my trunk, I'll be right back." you said to Mrs. Weasley, as you went upstairs.
"Hurry up dear! The cars will be here any minute!" she called up to you.
You mustered up all the strength you could and attempted to drag your trunk out of the room.
You only moved it an inch.
"Why is this so heavy," you groaned. "I didn't even pack that much compared to Hermione."
"Knock knock,"
You turned around and saw George standing in the doorway.
"Oh, thank merlin you're here, George," you said. "Can you help me carry down my trunk? It's too heavy for me to carry by myself."
"Mhmmm what's the magic word N/N?" he asked, stooping down to your level. You saw his eyes flicker to your bruise. For some reason he decided not to say anything about it though, which you were grateful for.
You were now face to face. You could feel his hot breath on your face. All the two of you did for a moment was look into each other's eyes. His beautiful green eyes.
"I-uh-oh c'mon Weasley! Just help me!" you said, stuttering out your words.
"What's the magic word, Witherford?" he said in a sing- song voice.
"Now?" you said, mock venom in your voice, slapping his chest lightly.
"Fine, fine," he said, putting his arms up in surrender. "No need to get violent, N/N."
Both of you picked up each of side of the trunk and took it downstairs.
"Bloody hell, what in merlin's beard did you put in this thing?" George asked, through gritted teeth.
"Nothing that I wouldn't usually pack," you grunted back.
The two of you moved very slowly, and after what seemed like forever, you finally got downstairs and put the trunk down.
"Thank you for helping me, George," you smiled up at him.
"Why of course," he said bowing down, and taking your hand in is. "Anything for you, my lady,"
"Such a gentleman," you giggled as he let go of your hand.
As George walked away to help his brother, you walked over to where Harry, Ron, and Hermione were standing, your face red.
"Are you okay Y/N?" Harry asked.
"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" you asked, confused.
"Your face is as red as Ron's hair," he pointed out. "Are you sick?"
Before you could answer, Ron interrupted. "It's because she was with George," he teased, wiggling his eyebrows. "They spent a lot of time together and she fanc-"
Before he could finish, you put your hand over his mouth, muffling his words. His cheeks raised, indicating that he was smiling, or smirking at least.
"I hope you throw up slugs," you said, pulling your hand away from his mouth.
"Hey! You can't say that!"
"You two argue like siblings, I swear," Hermione said, stroking Crookshank's fur through the wickerwork basket. "Don't worry, Crookshanks, I'll let you out on the train."
"No, you won't," Ron snapped. "What about poor Scabbers, eh?" He pointed to his chest pocket where Scabbers was resting.
"They're here," Mr. Weasley said, walking into the room. "Harry, Y/N, come on."
Mr. Weasley escorted you and Harry to one of two old fashioned looking cars. You glanced at Harry, but he was avoiding making your eye contact.
"In you go, you two," Mr. Weasley, glancing up and down the street.
You and Harry climbed into the back seat of the car and were shortly joined by Hermione and Ron.
"What's up with your dad, Ronald?" you whispered. Ron shrugged.
"Maybe it's something to do with Sirius Black?" Hermione suggested.
"Why would it be, though?"
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After an uneventful drive, you arrived to King's Cross with about twenty minutes to spare. Everyone found themselves trolleys, unloaded their trunks, and made their way into the station. You noticed that while you were walking to platforms nine and ten that Mr. Weasley was walking between you and Harry.
"Right then," he said, glancing around nervously. "The rest of you go in pairs, since there are so many of us. I'll go through first with Harry and Y/N."
Before you walked through the barrier, you and George exchanged confused looks. The three of you walked towards the barrier very slowly, not wanting the muggles to pay attention.
In a moment, you stepped onto platform nine and three quarters and looked up to see the Hogwarts Express. Seeing the smoke come out of the scarlet steam engine made you smile.
Percy and Ginny appeared behind you and Harry, panting.
"Ah there's Penelope!" Percy said, smoothing out his hair. You, Ginny, and Harry looked at each other and tried to contain your laughter as Percy walked away with his chest puffed out.
Once everyone else came onto the platform, you all went into the train and loaded your trunks before going outside to say goodbye.
Mrs. Weasley kissed all her children, then Hermione, then surprisingly you. It made you feel all happy. Your mother stopped showing you physical affection when she got married to your stepfather. He didn't like it when your mom would give you a hug or kiss you on the cheek. "Take care of yourself sweetie," she said smiling at you. "And please, don't get into any trouble."
"Harry, Y/N," Mr. Weasley said quietly. "Come over here a moment."
You and Harry followed Mr. Weasley behind a big pillar.
"Is everything all right, Mr. Weasley?" you ask, concerned.
"There's something I've got to tell you two before you leave." Mr. Weasley said in a tense voice.
"It's all right, Mr. Weasley," Harry said. "I already know."
"Know about what?" you asked, confused.
"You know? How could you know?" Mr. Weasley asked, surprised, not hearing you.
"I-er-I heard you and Mrs. Weasley talking last night. I couldn't help hearing." Harry said quickly. "Sorry I-"
"Wait what do you mean?" you interrupted. "What are you two going on about?"
"This isn't the way I wanted you two to find out," Mr. Weasley said looking anxious.
"What's going on?" you asked suspiciously.
"Sirius Black is after Harry, Y/N," Mr. Weasley said in a grave voice.
Your eyes widened in surprise. "What? Really? Why?" you said really fast. "Wait what does this have to do with me?"
"He's after you too," Harry said quietly.
You didn't know what to say. Why would Sirius Black go after you and Harry? What did he want out of this? Why didn't Harry tell you?
"Oh, you two must be so scared-"
"I'm no- We're not." Harry said. You stayed quiet. "I'm not trying to be a hero, but seriously, Sirius Black can't be worse than Voldemort, can he?"
Mr. Weasley flinched at the mention of Voldemort.
"Harry, Y/N, I know you both are, well, made of stronger than stuff than Fudge seems to think, and I'm obviously pleased that you're not scared-"
"Arthur!" Mrs. Weasley called out. "Arthur, what are you doing? It's about to go!"
"They're coming, Molly!" Mr. Weasley said. "Listen, I want you both to give me your word-"
"-that we'll be good little children and stay in the castle?" you said sarcastically.
"Not entirely," Mr. Weasley said in a serious voice. "Harry, Y/N, please swear to me you won't go looking for Black."
"What?" you and Harry said at the same time.
The train whistled, signaling it was about to leave. Guards were walking along the train, slamming the doors shut.
"Please promise me," Mr. Weasley said, talking way too fast. "that whatever happens-"
"Why would we go looking for someone that wants to kill us?" you asked, crossing your arms.
"Please, just swear to me that whatever you might hear-"
"Arthur, quickly!" Mrs. Weasley cried.
More steam started to billow from the train as it started to move. You and Harry ran to the compartment door. "Open the door, Ronald!" you yelled out. Ron opened the compartment door and stood back to let you and Harry on.
"Hey, we have to talk," you muttered to Ron and Hermione as the train picked up speed.
"Go away, Ginny," Ron said.
"Oh, that's nice," Ginny huffed, stomping away.
You, Harry, Ron, Hermione walked down the corridor, looking for an empty compartment, but every one of them was full except for the last one at the end of the train.
It only had one person occupying it, sitting asleep next to the window. You were confused, you the only adult that you'd ever seen on the Hogwarts Express was the witch that pushed the trolley.
The person was wearing a shabby set of robes that had been damaged in several places. He looked sick and tired, and his hair had lots of gray streaks.
"Who is that?" you nervously whispered as you sat down.
"Professor R.J Lupin," Hermione whispered at once.
"How'd you know that?" Ron asked, sitting down the farthest away from the man.
"It's on his case," Hermione pointed to the luggage rack above them. There was a small, battered case with the name Professor R.J. Lupin stamped on it in gold, peeling letters.
"Wonder what he teaches?" Ron said.
"Oh Ronald, your so dense," you whispered. "There's only one position left. Defense Against the Dark Arts."
"Well, I hope he's up to it," Ron said doubtfully. "He looks like one good hex would finish him off, doesn't he?" You smacked his shoulder. "Anyway...what were you guys going to tell us?"
You and Harry explained the two of them what Mr. Weasley told you. Harry did most of the talking though, since he already knew what was going on before you did. When the two of you were done talking, Ron looked terrified, and Hermione had her hands covering her mouth.
"Sirius Black escaped to come after you two? Oh...you guys have to be really, really, careful. Don't go looking for trouble, especially you, Harry-" she said.
"I don't go looking for trouble," Harry said, his head down. "Trouble usually finds me."
"And besides, how stupid do you think we would be to look for someone who wants to kill us?" you said, your eyebrow raised. "And thanks for not telling me, Harry." You smacked his arm.
"I wanted to," he said, rubbing his arm. "I just didn't know how, and I didn't know Mr. Weasley was going to talk to us about it."
"He'll be caught, won't he?" Hermione said. "I mean, they've got all the muggles looking for him too..."
"What's that noise?" Ron said suddenly.
From somewhere in the compartment, there was a faint sound of a whistle. The four of you looked all around, trying to see where the noise was coming from.
"I think it's coming from your trunk, Harry," you said. Ron stood up and reached into the luggage rack. A moment later, he pulled out a Pocket Sneakascope. It was glowing bright and spinning very fast in Ron's hand.
"Is that a Sneakascope?" Hermione asked, standing up to look at it.
"Yeah...mind you, it's a very cheap one," Ron answered. "It went haywire just as I was tying it to Errol's leg to send to Harry."
"Were you doing anything untrustworthy, Ronald?" you asked, slightly giggling.
"No! Well...I wasn't supposed to be using Errol. You know he's not really up to long journeys...but how else was I supposed to get Harry's present to him?"
"Stick it back in the trunk," Harry said. "or it'll wake him up." He pointed towards Professor Lupin, who was still sleeping.
"You could probably get it checked in Hogsmeade," you said. "George told me that sell that kind of stuff at Dervish and Bangs."
"What else did George tell you?" Harry smirked.
"Ugh, Harry not you too," you groaned while Ron and Hermione laughed.
"Do you two know much about Hogsmeade?" Hermione asked, changing the topic. "I've read it's the only entirely non-muggle settlement in Britain-"
"Yeah, I think it is," Ron interrupted. "but that's not why I want to go. I just want to get Honeydukes."
"What's that?" Hermione asked.
"How do you not know what Honeydukes is?" you asked in a surprised voice. "It's this sweetshop, and they have everything- and I mean it. They have sugar quills, you can suck on those in class, and it just looks like you're thinking real hard about what to write-"
"And they have Pepper Imps-those make you smoke at the mouth, and great fat Chocoballs full of strawberry mousse and clotted cream-" Ron interrupted once again.
But Hogsmeade's a very interesting place, isn't it?" Hermione said. "In Sites of Historical Sorcery, it says the inn was the headquarters for the 1612 goblin rebellion, and the Shrieking Shack is supposed to be the most severely haunted building in Britain-"
"-and massive sherbert balls-"
"-those make you float a few inches off the ground while you're sucking on them."
You and Ron weren't listening to anything that Hermione was saying, the two of you getting too caught up in your candy dreams.
"Won't it be nice to get out of school for a bit and explore Hogsmeade?" Hermione asked Harry.
"Spect it will," Harry sighed. "You'll have to tell me when you've found out."
"What do you mean?" Ron asked.
"I can't go. The Dursley's didn't sign my permission form, and Fudge wouldn't either."
"That's not fair! Not fair at all! Maybe McGonagall will si-" you said.
"Or we can ask Fred or George, they know every secret passage out of the castle-" Ron interrupted.
"Ron! Y/N!" Hermione said sharply. "I don't think Harry should be sneaking out of school with Black on the loose."
"Yeah, I expect that's what McGonagall will say when I ask permission," Harry said.
"I'm surprised your parents signed your form, Y/N," Hermione said.
You didn't say anything. Maybe your mom didn't know about Black coming after you. She didn't work in the Ministry, but your stepfather did. He worked really close with Fudge. Maybe Fudge just didn't tell him. Or maybe he did know and just decided not to tell your mother.
"They'll be with us, Hermione," Ron said. "Black wouldn't dare-"
"Oh Ron, don't talk rubbish," Hermione snapped. "Black's already murdered a whole bunch of people in the middle of a crowded street. Do you really think he's going to worry about attacking Harry and Y/N just because we're there?" she said as she fumbled with the straps to Crookshanks' basket.
"Don't let that thing out!" Ron said. But it was too late. As soon as Hermione let Crookshanks out, he leapt onto Ron's knees. Scabbers trembled in Ron's pocket as Ron shoved Crookshanks away. "Get out of here!"
"Ron, don't!" Hermione said angrily.
As Ron was about to answer, Professor Lupin stirred in his seat. The four of you froze, watching his movements, but he just simply turned his head.
"Maybe we should relax and talk about something else?" you suggested.
"That's a good suggestion, Y/N." Harry said.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Around 1pm, the witch that pushed the trolley came by.
"We should wake him up," you said. "He looks like he needs something to eat."
Hermione walked up to Professor Lupin very slowly.
"Er- Professor?" she asked. "Excuse me-Professor?"
He didn't move.
"Don't worry dear," the trolley witch said, as she handed Harry a large stack of Cauldron Cakes. "If he's hungry when he wakes, I'll be up front with the driver."
"I suppose he is asleep?" Ron whispered as the trolley witch left. "I mean-he hasn't died, has he?"
"He's breathing, so probably not," you said quietly, taking the Cauldron Cake that Harry passed to you.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"So Y/N," Hermione said smirking at you. "How was Egypt with George?"
"I didn't just spend time with George, you know," you grumbled while Ron and Harry laughed. "I also hung out with Ginny and R-"
"Yea but you were with George most of the time!" Ron interrupted.
"And when I was with Ginny or Ron, George was with Fred," you said calmly, ignoring Ron.
"That's a fat load of shit! Even Fred said something about it."
"Ron! There's a teacher right next to us!" Hermione said in a stern voice.
"Yeah Ronald," you said smiling. "No need to get so vulgar."
Right as he said that the compartment door opened. In the doorway stood Draco Malfoy and his ogre cronies, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. You really hated the three of them, Draco especially.
"Well look who it is," Draco said. "Potty and the Weasel."
Crabbe and Goyle chuckled like trolls.
"Good to see you too Draco," you said, twirling your hair with your fingers. "Still having daddy pay for your spot on the Quidditch team?"
"I would be careful what you say, Y/N," he said smirking at you, his gaze wandering to your cheek. "Or you might get another bruise,"
You stood up from your seat. "That's not your place to say Draco!" you snarled.
He ignored you. "I heard your father finally got his hands on some gold, Weasley," he said. "Did your mother die of shock?"
Ron stood up so quickly that he knocked down Crookshanks basket. Harry stood up too, in case he had to hold Ron back. Professor Lupin made a sound.
"Who's that?" Draco said, taking a step back.
"New teacher," Harry said. "What were you saying, Malfoy?"
You were glad when Malfoy left, you knew he wasn't stupid enough to do anything in front of a teacher, but you didn't want him to reveal anything else about what was going on at home. You didn't even know he knew.
"I'm not going to take any shit from Malfoy this year," Ron said angrily as he sat down. "I mean it. If he makes one more crack about my family, I'm going to get hold of his head and-"
"Ron," Hermione hissed, pointing at Professor Lupin. "be careful..."
"What did Malfoy mean, Y/N?" Harry asked. "About your bruise, what did he mean by that?"
"How did you get that bruise by the way?" Hermione asked.
"I ran into a pole in Diagon Alley, it's not a big deal." you said, messing with the hem of your shirt.
"Didn't Malfoy say something similar in our first year?" Ron asked. "He said something about your ste-"
"Can we please just change the topic?" you said, annoyed. "It's not a big deal, I'm fine, I promise."
While you looked out the window, Harry, Ron, and Hermione all looked at each other, a look of concern sketched on all three of their faces.
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"You'll let me hold your hand
Oh, let me hold your hand
I wanna hold your hand"
"I didn't know you listened to the Beatles, Y/N." Hermione said.
"I-uh-I don't I just-" you tried to think of an excuse.
"Then why are you singing one of their songs?"
You thought whether or not you should tell her. Hermione was one of your best friends, and you knew she wouldn't tell anyone about the Walkman if you asked her not to. Yes, George knew about it, but he didn't fully know a lot about Muggle music. But if you told Hermione, it would be nice to share your passions with someone who actually understood what you were so passionate about.
"I'll tell you later," you muttered.
The train rattled around you. The rain hammered and the wind roared loud.
"We must nearly be there," Ron said, looking out the window, into the blackness.
As soon as the words left his mouth, the train starting to slow down.
"Woah," you said. "You must have a sixth sense Ronald."
"We can't be there yet," Hermione said as she checked her watch.
"Then why are we slowing down?"
The train started to get slower and slower. The wind and rain was as loud as ever, but Professor Lupin stayed asleep.
The train came to a complete stop, you almost fell out of your seat, but you grabbed onto Hermione's shoulder. You heard distant thuds in other parts of the train.
Suddenly, all the lamps in the train went out, plunging the four of you into darkness.
"What's going on? you heard Ron say.
"Ouch!" you gasped. "Ronald, you stepped on my foot!"
"Do you think we've broken down?" you heard Harry's voice.
"I don't know..."
You felt your way to the window. You wiped a patch so you could see outside and looked out.
"Something's moving out there," you said. "I think someone's coming aboard."
The compartment door opened and you heard the thud of someone falling.
"Sorry-do you know what's going on?-Ouch-sorry-"
"Hello Neville," Harry said.
"Harry is that you? What's happening?" Neville's voice said.
"No idea-sit down-"
There was a loud hissing sound and a yelp of pain. You assumed Neville tried to sit on Crookshanks.
"I'm gonna ask the driver what's going on," you said.
You slid the compartment door open and immediately bumped into someone. You and that someone both let out grunts of pain.
"Who is that?" you said, rubbing your forehead.
"Who are you?" said the voice.
"Ginny?"
"Y/N?"
"What are you doing?"
"I was looking for Ron-"
"Oh well sit down,"
"Not here!" you heard Harry say quickly. "I'm here!"
"Ouch!" Neville said.
"Quiet!" said a voice suddenly.
It seemed Professor Lupin seemed to finally wake up. Something about is voice seemed familiar to you. But where had you heard it?
Besides the sound of Professor Lupin's movements, it was quiet. Suddenly, a light filled the compartment. Professor Lupin was holding a handful of flames, illuminating his tired, but alert face.
"Stay where you are," he said, getting up from his seat, heading to the door.
But the door slid open before he even touched it. You assumed it was someone like George or Draco coming into the compartment. But how wrong you were. In the doorway stood a cloaked figure towering over the seven of them, it's face covered by a hood, a dementor.
The air became cold. You began thinking about all the abuse you endured by your stepfather, how your mum let it happen, how she never stood up for you.
Suddenly, the dementor took off its hood. You had never seen what a dementor looked like under its hood this up close. You thought you were going pass out.
The dementor drew in a long, slow, rattling breath. The compartment got freezing.
Not taking your eyes off the dementor, you heard a thud. You looked over and you saw Harry on the ground.
"Harry!" you exclaimed.
Professor Lupin stepped over Harry's body. "None of us is hiding Sirius Black under our cloaks, go," he said, pulling out his wand.
The dementor didn't move. It stood there towering over them.
Professor Lupin muttered something, and something silvery shot out of his wand. The dementor immediately went away.
After a few moments, the lamps came back on, and the train started moving again.
"Oh Harry!" Hermione cried out, getting down on her knees beside him. You and Ron did the same, trying to wake him up.
"Harry! Come on, wake up mate!" Ron said.
No answer.
You slapped him gently on the face.
"Y/N! Don't do that!" Hermione said. "You might hurt him!"
"It might wake him up," you said, continuing to slap him. "Harry! Harry! Are you okay?"
Finally, Harry opened his eyes, looking around the room.
"W-What?"
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Cliffhanger 😝
Not really though for everyone who's read the books or seen the movies
I have a few ideas for some stories I wanna write so stay tuned for those~
Stay safe and remember to drink lots of water <3
xoxo,
Izzy
#georgeweasley#george weasley x reader#character x reader#harry potter#hermione granger#ron weasley#george weasley imagine#harry potter imagines
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The Best Gifts are Large and Red
Ron Weasley x Pansy Parkinson | @hp-yuletide-bliss Day 2: Only one blanket | WC 3048| Rating: M (implied/referenced sex)
She woke up feeling like she’d been whacked over the head by the Whomping Willow, or perhaps sat on by Millicent Bulstrode, only that was impossible because Pansy hadn’t been a student for years now. The bitter taste on her tongue suggested she’d been drinking, but the details were fuzzy. There’d been that delightful cider concoction made by the Weaslette, correction, Potterette, and then Blaise had thrust a mug of unknown liquid he swore would blow Pansy’s mind.
She couldn’t remember a blasted thing after that, and she’d bet a million Galleons Lovegood had something to do with it. She and Blaise had gotten together recently and were already talking circles around their friend groups. Pansy flapped her hand around in search of the edge of the bed, but smacked against a warm body instead.
“‘S goin’ on?”
She knew that voice.
Oh, no. Please, Morgana, please don’t tell me I—
“Parkinson?”
She opened her eyes to the sight of a disheveled redhead sitting up with the sheets piled around his waist.
He was bare chested.
She’d bet another million Galleons that he was bare everywhere else, too.
He clutched his head and groaned, and because of her close proximity she couldn’t help but notice the way that the muscles in his shoulders and arms flexed. Her eyes drifted down as if they had a will of their own, tracing the tip of his throat, the defined lines of his chest, and the smattering of hair a shade darker than his head.
Ron Weasley was ripped. When had that happened?
Now that she thought about it, he’d played Quidditch in school, even if he’d been shite at the start, and played frequent pick-up games with the boys. She knew he’d been an Auror for a number of years before leaving to work with his jokester brother. He looked more like that other brother of his, the dragon-crazed one. Pansy remembered seeing him with the rest of the trainers back in Fourth Year with the Triwizard Tournament and had thought him the hottest of the Weasley clan by far with all those muscles and scars and his darker auburn hair that curled in perfect ringlets around his face.
Ron wasn’t quite at that level, but he was still quite nice to look at.
“Gah, I need to piss.”
But not listen to.
“By all means, go to the loo. There’s certainly nothing else more pressing at the moment other than the fact that we’re naked in the same bed and I don’t remember a damned thing!” By this point, Pansy was also sitting up, her hands clutching the blankets tight to her collarbone.
He at least had the graciousness to blush at her panic, light blue eyes taking her in. No doubt he was cataloging her smeared makeup, or maybe the hair which she knew must have reverted from its charmed straightness back to unruly waves.
“Merlin, you’re perky in the morning. I’m not kidding. I really have to piss—”
“Fine! Just go!” Pansy gave up, rolling her eyes and flopping onto her back.
“I’ll be right back and then we can talk.”
At least, that’s what might have happened if he had even a shred of common sense. As he stood up, he dragged the blanket with him, subsequently tugging the protective sheet off of Pansy.
“What do you think you’re doing? I’m naked and there’s only one blanket!” she shrieked, yanking the covering back towards herself.
Ron dropped down almost out of sight, leaving only his head visible over the side of the bed.
“Well, what do you want me to do? I’m naked, too, you know!” he complained, fingers digging into the blanket like he meant to grab it back.
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe put on some clothes?”
“You put on clothes.”
“I’m not the one trying to leave the bed!” Her voice rose to that pitch she hated, if only because it sounded much too similar to her mother and had driven nearly all of Pansy’s past boyfriends crazy. They usually walked away by this point.
Ron obviously wasn’t like any of the others, if only because she wouldn’t let him take her last line of defense.
He bellowed back at her instead.
“Then close your eyes, you daft witch!”
She could feel her lungs filling in preparation for a string of accusations. Oh, he would regret sparring with Pansy Parkinson. Nobody came out on top of a verbal spat but her, not even Granger.
Relish must have shown in her eyes, because he let go of the blanket in a dramatic wave of his hands, and then, then, he started to stand up.
“Weasley, stop!” Her eyes slammed shut and she ducked her head under the blanket just like she had as a child hiding from the big bad werewolves who gobbled up naughty children like herself.
“Calm your tits, Parkinson.”
She could hear rustling, then the unmistakable sound of a zipper. The moment she popped her head out, she was hit in the face with one piece of clothing after another.
By the time she pulled the last of her clothes off of her face, he was already striding away from her wearing only a pair of jeans that hugged his arse like a damn piece of art. The door to the loo clicked shut before she could say anything else.
Their room looked like someone had tossed a fanged frisbee inside. There wasn’t a single item remaining on the tables or nightstands; they lay on the floor, mostly intact. Clothes trailed towards the bed from the exit.
They must have been desperate to do whatever it was they had done.
How was it that they woke up with only a thin flat sheet covering them?
Wrapping the blanket around herself more firmly, Pansy crawled forward to the end of the bed to find what looked to be a thick quilt bunched up on the ground and partially shoved underneath the bed frame.
What in Circe were they even thinking?
The door re-opened, startling her from her investigation and sending her scrambling back up towards the headboard.
“I thought you’d be dressed by now,” he said in what sounded like amusement. She scowled over at where he leaned against the door frame, filling it far too well with his broad shoulders.
“I got distracted.”
“I see that.”
She opened her mouth to say something scathing about, about…
She couldn’t think of a single negative thing at the moment.
“Do you fancy a go?”
Her eyes snapped to attention. Did he honestly think she was just going to shag him without—
“To use the loo, I mean. You can get changed, too. I’ll just face this way.” He walked towards the door and folded his arms up to prop up his face.
Oh.
“Yes, I’ll go ahead and do that.”
How embarrassing.
She scurried towards the washroom still wrapped up in the flat sheet and grabbing her skirt off the nearby chair on the way.
By the time she re-emerged, she’d washed up, dressed, and set her hair and makeup to its usual flawless charm. There was just one problem.
She couldn’t find her knickers.
The unmistakable green lace hadn’t been in the pile of clothes he’d thrown at her, and she hadn’t seen it on path in. Pansy was slightly uncomfortable at the idea of going bare with her memory all mucked up, but surely he wouldn’t do anything. It’s not like he even knew she was currently knickerless.
Pansy tried to look around discreetly as she made her way to a chair. No luck.
“Looking for something?”
Could it be?
But no, his face was devoid of any deceit. He sat on the edge of the bed, knees spread wide with his elbows resting atop them and his fingers twisting into knots. He finally looked concerned about their situation.
“I misplaced something, but I can look for it later.”
He didn’t push her, just nodded and sat up straight, hands coming up to cup each knee.
“So, last night…”
“I don’t remember anything,” Pansy quickly said.
He slowly shook his head. “I don’t remember much either.”
“What do you remember?” She couldn’t help the curiosity that bubbled up at his phrasing.
“There were the Christmas crackers, that awful Secret Santa ‘Mione made us do, then drinks. A lot of drinks.”
She wrinkled her nose at that childish nickname he used for Granger. She wouldn’t go so far as to say she and the other witch were best mates or anything, but they got on well enough these days. It was kind of required, what with her being engaged to Draco and all.
“What?”
“Did you drink anything from Blaise or Lovegood?”
He snorted. “‘Course I did. Weird, wasn’t it?” His face relaxed, then went slack. “That’s actually the last thing I think I remember…”
“I’m going to eviscerate Blaise,” Pansy snarled, her nails biting into the skin of her palms.
“Blaise? What about Luna? Odds are she’s the one who concocted whatever this was.”
“Oh, I didn’t forget about Lovegood. She’ll get hers.” She said it with the finality of a death sentence.
“I don’t really know much about Blaise, but it isn’t like Luna to do something like this without good reason.”
Weasley’s comment rang true, and Pansy was forced to pause her mental murder to re-evaluate.
As puzzling as she usually found the dreamy-eyed blonde, there was an uncomfortable surety to her comments. Lovegood would say something that sounded outrageous, only for it to later be proven correct. She’d basically predicted Theo’s entanglement with George Weasley, a pairing nobody had seen coming. They hadn’t even known he liked blokes. Then, there they were, ridiculously happy together.
Why would Lovegood set this all up for them to only forget the next morning?
She wouldn’t. There had to be something they were missing.
Trying to think like Luna was impossible. She’d have to go about this from Blaise’s point of view. He knew Pansy, could predict her every move whenever they played chess. What did he bet on Pansy doing the moment she woke up and found herself naked in bed with Ronald Weasley?
Scream.
Slap.
Shriek some more.
Demand absolute secrecy.
Secrecy…
She could just hear herself demanding that they both forget anything ever happened. Past Pansy certainly would have acted that way towards someone she’d only ever seen as a blood traitor.
But now?
He shifted under her gaze. “What?”
“Maybe our memories rely on intent.”
His nose scrunched up. “What, like because we don’t want to remember, we don’t?”
“Yes…” she said slowly, warming to the idea. It made a twisted sort of sense.
Thinking about the possibilities of such a drink, particularly when taken unwilling or unaware, was terrifying. In Luna and Blaise’s hands? Everyone might as well vow to never drink again.
Movement in her periphery caught her attention, and she realized the redhead had gotten up and was in the process of pulling on his jumper. “What are you doing?”
He paused with only his head through the opening. “Getting dressed? You’re probably relieved to not remember anything so we might as well get on our way. Are you on the potion?”
“I am, but don’t you want to know the truth?”
He sighed as he finished pulling on his top, leaving her to mourn the loss of muscles in exchange for yeti with wreaths around their necks. He made to shove his hands into his jean pockets, then frowned. His hand slowly pulled out, dragging a familiar bit of green.
“I assume these are yours?”
She could feel heat rising up her neck, but fought the urge to snatch them out of his hand.
“I was wondering where those went.”
Pansy reached out an expectant palm, but he didn’t move.
“If I pocketed these,” he slowly raised his hand to his face, “then I probably meant to keep them.”
Her jaw dropped as he pressed her knickers against his face and breathed in deep. Never, in all her relationships, long term or one offs, had anyone done that. It mortified her to even say it.
As his hand dropped and bright blue eyes zeroed in on her once more, Pansy sat frozen in anticipation.
“I’m willing to remember if you are,” he said quietly, the hand holding her scrap of lace closed in a tight fist.
“I…I…”
His head cocked at her struggle. “You?”
“I think you need to take your shirt off again.” The words were out before she could stop them, and she colored immediately.
“Pardon?” Even he seemed to doubt what he’d just heard.
“I can’t think with those damn yeti parading across your jumper. Take it off.”
He started to bend and grab the sheet she’d left lying in the middle of the room on her walk through, but she darted forward to step on it, earning her an incredulous snort.
“Look, you’re fit, okay?” she tried to explain. “It’s the least you could do, really, since you’ve stolen my knickers.”
Not only did Weasley own a sinful amount of muscles, but he could smirk, too. Who would have thought?
Pocketing the lace, he pulled off his shirt in one smooth motion.
Paradise.
“Okay. Let’s do this.”
She focused on his abs and the ginger trail leading down and out of sight.
Remember!
Using her eyes, she traced the freckles of his torso up his chest and to his mouth.
Was that a beauty mark or a freckle?
“Parkinson?”
She started at her name, and realized a number of things in quick succession.
She’d walked forward and now stood a mere breath away from him.
She was looking up in the perfect position for a kiss.
She wanted to kiss him, to see if he tasted as good as he looked.
“Isn’t there that Muggle story about how a kiss can break an enchantment?”
Laughter danced in his eyes. “Isn’t that to wake them up?”
“Let’s wake up our memories, then.”
He held her gaze for a moment, as if to check for any doubt or gauge whether or not she was joking. Whatever he saw must have convinced him, because the next thing she knew, his large palms cupped her elbows and he bent slowly down, bringing his face closer to hers. She rose to her toes in anticipation and took a deep breath.
He smelled sweet and a little spicy, like vanilla with a dash of cloves. It was a common enough combination, but for some reason the fact that it was him, Weasley, smelling good enough to eat and only a second away from kissing her made Pansy reach up and tug him down the rest of the way.
He grunted at the unexpected pull, his hands tightening their hold on her, then he huffed a laugh before slanting his lips against her own and swiping the seam in a clear request.
She opened to him like she’d been hungry for it.
Rather than plunging into her mouth like she’d half expected, he nipped at her bottom lip. A pulse of want shot through her and Pansy couldn’t help but moan into it.
She just wanted him to wrap an arm around her waist and pull her flush against his body like he had last night, for him to grind his hardness into her belly so she knew what was waiting for her. She wanted him to make good on his promise to make her feel him in the deepest parts of herself as long as she still wanted him in the morning. She wanted to come against his fingers, his tongue, his cock, to take him into her mouth so she could render him helpless, muttering and cursing her name, her first name.
She wanted—
Her brain stuttered as his hands shifted and he nearly collapsed around her, his mouth hot against her ear.
“Fuck, Pansy.”
She licked her lips in nervousness. “Y-yes?”
“I remember.”
“Me, too.”
He pulled back to press his forehead against her own, eyes blazing. “Tell me what you want.”
Less than a minute ago, what she wanted had been so clear.
Now?
She remembered the way she’d admired how he’d beaten Blaise over and over again at chess during their group get-togethers. She’d noticed the figure he cut flying across her view at pick-up Quidditch games. For the first time in what seemed forever, she appreciated his blunt observations, how his loyalties were always so obvious.
She remembered how she’d seen his jumper last night, and thought it cute in an ugly sort of way, particularly paired with those arse-hugging jeans. Blaise had noticed her eye fucking and shot her a knowing look.
She remembered how after that drink, she’d boldly asked him to dance and that he’d agreed almost immediately. Only a few dances later, and they were giggling on their way to a guest room, shedding clothes the moment the door clicked shut.
She remembered how they’d stopped and stared at each other in a sudden moment of clarity. He’d asked if she’d be angry if they waited until they were both sober. She’d nearly cried in relief, though he initially mistook it for outrage. They curled up around one another, swapping descriptions of their favorite Christmas memories.
She looked up at him now, knowing that last night had been her favorite, by far.
“I still want you.”
He whooped in glee and lifted her up to twirl in a circle around the room. The rush of air between her legs reminded her of just how exposed she still was.
“Ronald, put me down this instant!”
He dropped her on the edge of the bed and was down on his knees in front of her in seconds, that bashful smile of his back in full force.
“I really, really like the way you say my name.”
She raised a brow. “Is that so?”
“Mhm.” Mischief returned to his face and he slowly leaned into her.
“Ronald?”
“Hmm?”
“Shut up and let’s shag already.”
Pansy still planned to give both Blaise and Luna a piece of her mind, but maybe, just maybe, she’d send them a Christmas gift, as well—something large and in the most outrageous red she could find.
Cross-posted on Tumblr and [eventually] AO3
I had way more fun with this prompt than originally expected, and I think a large part of that has to do with the ship. Ron and Pansy are such ridiculously dramatic characters to write individually, so put together, how can you not get up to some trouble?
#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter flashfic#ron x pansy#ron weasley#pansy parkinson#ronsy#hp yuletide bliss#christmas hp fest
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There’s no me without you (9)
draco malfoy x fem!reader
summary: you and draco grow further apart
warnings: swearing, angst, fluff - i think that’s it. I didn’t proof read this so please let me know if there’s any mistakes <3
Next chapter
When you awoke the next morning you had to be certain that what you witnessed was actually real. Potter and Greengrass were hooking up. How long had it even been going on for? You expected to feel a sense of pride and snide-like emotions, that you were the one to discover them and you were only person who knew of their tryst, as far as you were aware. Instead you did not feel anything except overwhelming nausea and guilt.
You were desperate to knock astoria off her smug sliver spooned pedestal. But on the other hand, Draco deserved to not to know and to be betrayed. Though, he too deserved the humiliation of the whole school knowing that the Draco Malfoy has been cheated on twice now, not only by Parkinson but also by Astoria, his real to-be-fiancé who has been secretly shagging the person he hates most in the world, saint Harry Potter. You laid there thinking about the look on Draco’s face if he were to find out, priceless.
His social status would crash and burn. Essentially he’d be a social repellent you imagined the things people would say “Malfoy can’t keep a girlfriend, scares them away” “He’s obviously not packing.” “definitely awful in bed no wonder two of his birds cheated.” you actually felt terrible even thinking about people making mean remarks about him. So instead you dragged yourself into your bathroom and got ready for the long day ahead.
Looking in the mirror you only thought more about the situation you found yourself in. If you did decide to tell the whole of Hogwarts and their mums about Astoria and Harry’s sex-capades, you’d hurt Harry in the process even though he was wrongly chatting up ginny too, so that would also create a whole host of problems between Harry, Ron, George and the other Weasleys if they found Potter was two timing their sister. They were all your friends, but at the end of the day, this was more about Astoria and Draco than any other confounding variables involved.
It was all so conflicting, Who’d believe you anyway? you could end up telling whoever you wanted but it’d only go wrong for you unless you did not have proof of Astoria and Harry’s adultering. People would just make assumptions that you’re just falsely accusing them just so you can get back together with Draco, though you have zero intention of ever doing that again.
However, spreading rumours and bitching, even if true, wasn’t like you at all. You were the kind Slytherin the one who never made fun of anyone or belittled fellow students. But you guess things change when people you trusted and held loyal, hurt you. You were doing what you had to do to survive the rest of the school year.
Walking through the common room forgetting to tie your shoelaces was stupid. But you were late for quidditch practice so you’d forgot which caused you to crash into a student. “For fuck sake” your broom fell on the floor and you heard a huff come from the person you had fallen into. “Excuse you.” the voice sneered. Looking up you met the pointed stare of Astoria who had entered the common room and funnily enough, she didn’t look as perfect as usual.
Her hair was slightly out of place and her makeup lightly smudged. She had definitely come from a certain Harry Potter’s dorm trying to hide her walk of shame but you knew better. Still you had to hand it to her for keeping the utmost composure “Bad day already y/l/n?” she sneered. You scoffed “Hardly Greengrass, you’re just clumsy. I must say though, it’s rather an early hour to only just be entering the common room…rough night? couldn’t sleep?” you raised your eyebrows defensively.
Panic flashed across her face before her lips curved into a menacing smirk “I was actually going to get some breakfast for me and Draco to take back to his dorm. You see we had a rather….draining night, if you get what i mean. But unfortunately they ran out of coffee. Oh well more nefarious activities for him and I to get back to.”
you nearly laughed out loud from how she pathetically lied straight to your face. You played along nevertheless “Of course Astoria! I was just on my way to visit Harry, he seems to have lots of sleepless nights too these days. I’ve been trying to brew some sleeping potions for him. Oh well, have a good day.” her face went white as you mentioned Harry and you smiled wickedly at her before walking away.
Astoria rushed towards Draco’s dorm hurriedly entering it. She gazed towards the bed where the blonde lay asleep. She studied his gorgeous face as he mumbled in what seemed like a rather nice dream. Astoria had a mind to softly wake him and that was until she made sense of his mumbling “Yes….oh….y/n.” he was having a very nice dream…about her…about you. “Draco!” she roared jolting the blonde straight up. “Oh my god Astoria. Get out!” he shrieked. “I’m your fiancée idiot I can come in when i want.” she crossed her arms. “Argh, what do you want?” Draco put his head in his hands.
“I came to ask if you’d like to join me for breakfast. We have wedding arrangements to discuss.” Astoria clasped her hands behind her back. “That is not happening for another 2 years. Now please leave, I have quidditch practice and it’s the final game of the season in a week. I’m already late for practice and I just want some peace for merlin’s sake.” he remarked harshly. “Whatever Draco.” she said as she left the room, slamming the door behind her.
Meanwhile, on the pitch you were met by Blaise who gave you a soft smile “Y/N it’s good to have you back.” “Thank you.” you nodded sincerely before the other boys came out. Theo picked you up and spin you around making you giggle, putting you down in front of him “Yeah it is, Goyle’s been dragging the team down. Not to mention Zabini got hit with a bludger by Malfoy before he crashed to ground with Zabini overestimating his throw. We’ve been a mess without you.” this made Blaise chuckle “fuck off” and goyle rolled his eyes. “In that case, I’m glad to be back too.” you beamed at Theo.
The moment was cut short by a just-appearing Draco emerging onto the field “Are you all going to stand there like daises? We’ve got a match to prepare for.” Theo turned to him “Wow okay well look who decided to show up. And you’re the one telling us to get a move on? It’s your own fault that you can’t keep your morning glory in your pants with Astoria.”
Your face remained unfaltered by Theo’s remark even though it made your heart twinge and instead you laughed it off with the other boys. “That is not what happened I overslept, Nott.” Draco scowled at you in particular a brewing hurt within him that you laughed but he did not manage to solicit a reaction from you when he did so. Although you did believe that he overslept due to your previous encounter with Astoria and her adulterous walk of shame. But he doesn’t need to know that.
“Don’t lecture us when your are the one who’s late. Be a captain Draco, not a whore. Now go to your post you’re pissing me off.” Flint spat at him, making the blondes brows furrow in annoyance. You hate to admit it but seeing Draco be dismissed and dragged by the team made you smug. Theo slung his arm around you “I know we haven’t spoken a lot but I just want to let you know we’re on your side when it comes to you and Draco. Most of the boys are behind you too. He’s right prick.” you kissed his cheek “Thank you Theo, it’s okay I’m doing better than I was. All i’m focused on now is kicking Gryffindor’s ass in the final game.” he kissed your forehead in return “That’s our girl.”
Draco stood there feeling very embarrassed and things only felt worse when he saw your close interaction with Theo, still wishing it was him despite the fact that he knew you loathed him and that it was his own fault. Being split into two teams Practice began and you were on the same team as Marcus and Theo and then Draco was with Blaise and the other half of the boys, opposing. Your team were currently winning you had played 3 games already and caught the snitch each time. “This is hardly fair Flint, your team have Y/L/N and Nott.” adrian called out to Marcus as they raced one another for the snitch. “The teams are fair Pucey, your lot just need to play better.” he insisted before calling a time out.
You were all very sore and tired by this point standing around on pitch discussing tactics before one more practice game. “Can we mix up the teams again please?” Goyle and Adrian begged. Draco frowned “The teams are fine we’ll win the next one. Flint just happens to be on a lucky streak today.” Theodore grimaced at Draco “You realise it’s been Y/N who’s caught the snitch each time.”
“Flint is on that team. He’s our best player so it’s easy for anyone to catch the snitch.” The slytherin prince huffed. You’d had enough of Draco’s antics “Marcus go on the other team.” you looked towards him “No Y/N you do not need to prove anything. You are one of the best players in the team. Actually one of the best players this school had ever seen. Somebody has just pissed in Draco’s cereal this morning so he’s decided to be a dick about this.” Draco’s mouth was agape, ready to fireback when you spoke before he got the chance.
“Go on the opposite team okay? Let’s just see maybe it’ll stop his whining.” you gave Draco a scowl before walking off and flying up to your post. The game started and you were ready to embarrass Draco once again. You had dodged 4 bludgers already, one kindly aimed straight for your face by Malfoy himself. Deep down, this was Draco’s way of dealing with his emotions. He hoped in pretending to hate you he would eventually stop loving you. So far, he was failing miserably at that and at this current quidditch practice game.
Unsurprisingly you caught the snitch which left Draco to wallow in his own humiliation. Once you all made it back onto the field the boys (minus Draco) praised you. They all stood before Theo sneered “Satisfied malfoy?”. “Oh piss off, the lot of you.” the blonde spat before sulking away. “Maybe your the problem Draco. You seem to enjoy fucking things up quite regularly.” you shouted after him. He didn’t turn back or respond but he heard you and blinked away his tears.
“Don’t worry about him. Let’s worry about the game. Which we have a pretty good chance in hell of winning.” Marcus flashed a dazzling smile and nudged you. “This is a team effort everyone played well.” Theo smirked “You know Flint, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to replace Malfoy as a captain.” he smirked back at him “Not a bad idea Nott.” you laughed and rolled your eyes before saying goodbye and heading back to your dorm.
In your mind Draco needed to leave you well alone and get on with marrying Astoria. The quicker the better. Before your could think anymore about it you heard your door open “Y/N?” you turned to be met with the sweet face of George. You sighed and fell into his arms. “Hey come on, love. What’s wrong?” you shook your head into his chest “Have a guess.” “Draco.” he said plainly. You nodded “Are you sure you don’t want me to shave his head during the night or put puking potion in his pumpkin juice?” George raised his brows playfully “No it’s okay.” you giggled before he took your hand and you made your way to Snape’s class.
You and George took your places and opened your textbooks. You cringed as Harry walked in and took his place next to you. You didn’t even know how to talk to him after seeing him and Astoria together and it didn’t help when her and Draco emerged into the classroom. Harry followed Astoria’s movements as they found a spot in the classroom. “Can I help you scarhead?” Draco spat at Harry. He rolled his eyes getting out his textbook “I’m talking to you potter. Why are you staring? you jealous or something? Poor saint Potter no girlfriend no money…no parents.”
Astoria cackled along making Harry cower his further. You felt sorry for Harry, really. As insufferable as Astoria is, he obviously liked her and she was clearly using him. And when she laughed along at dracos pathetic insult you’d about had it with him. “Haven’t you had enough Draco? Stop inflicting your insecurities on other people just because your own life is miserable and unfulfilling. Just shutup.”
Draco’s face almost softened in a twisted way before he just turned away and his lovey fiancée interjected for him “Oh close your mouth y/l/n. No one cares. Can Potter not fight his own battles?” Greengrass spat and you sneered at her in return before she too, turned back to her desk. “Thank you.” Harry said with a pleading smile. The rest of class went surprisingly smoothly before the bell rand and George took your hand leading you to the hall for lunch.
You took your usual spot next to him opposite Harry and Ron. This time, you were ready to spot any fleeting looks and gestures between Harry and Astoria. It wasn’t long before you spotted his eyes mischievously lingering on the slytherin table whilst he drank from his goblet. Hermione joined the table placing herself on the other side of harry and began rambling on about her recent debacle with Snape and how he had gifted her an unfair grade in her OWLS exams.
The only people really listening was Ron and George, you were focused on harry and the fact that his gaze had flicked from his plate to the Slytherin table at least 50 times, knowing he was looking directly at Astoria. Before long, Harry got up and left the table excusing himself to the bathroom. Only minutes later you turned around to see that Astoria had also left her place. “Hey, I’m just gonna get some air.” you said to George, arising from your seat. “Oh. Is everything okay, love? Do you want me to come with you?” he touched your hand gently. You shook your head “No. But thank you, you’re sweet.”
You sped out the hall, tiptoeing into the corridor to find exactly what you expected, Harry and Astoria. Although, this interaction was anything but a scandalous rendezvous. You hid behind a pillar just close enough to hear their conversation. “I don’t know Astoria. You’re always with him. How do you think it makes me feel when you’re laughing along with him and his pathetic, offensive jokes? Those are my fucking parents he’s talking about. Voldemort killed them. It may be hilarious to him considering he’s probably one them but the rest of the school don’t seem to find it particularly amusing. In fact, the rest of the school fucking hate him. I don’t even know how Y/N tolerated him.” he whisper-shouted.
You flinched at the mention of your name. Astoria rolled her eyes at him “Why do you have to bring her into this Harry? Besides, his jokes mean nothing and you know I’d rather be with you. Draco won’t even touch me and he doesn’t even like talking to me. Merlin, he doesn’t really seem to like talking to anyone at all these days.” he sighed shaking his head “I’m sorry about that. Look Tori, all I’m saying is that when he was with Y/N he didn’t insult me once. Maybe you could talk to him.”
Astoria put her hand on her forehead in irritation “We’ve talked about this so many times Harry, you know I can’t do that. He’ll be suspicious, he already lashes out at me for even speaking to him.” Harry furrowed his brows, getting angrier “Then why are with him Astoria? You say he won’t talk to you, touch you, look at you. You could walk away from this, you have that choice. But you don’t, you continue to stay with him, why? You could be happy with me. We could be together publicly instead of hiding us like a dirty little secret. Do you realise that makes me feel like shit to see you with him?”
“You don’t understand. There’s no point me trying to explain. Just know that as much as I want things to be different they can’t be. Okay? I’m sorry.” She turned away from him making you edge further behind the pillar. Harry spun her back to face him “Hey, come on. I’m sorry too. I know this isn’t easy for you either. I love you Tori.” The gryffindor saint said to her. She responded in kissing him and before things could escalate any further, you decided to leave not wanting to witness what they were going to do.
You took your place back, next to George and he smiled placing his hand on the small of your back. “Sorry i was lightheaded. All good now.” you smiled. Soon after, Harry came back looking rather disheveled. “Everything okay then?” you said cryptically. His eyes widened and worry flashed in his eyes “Uh yeah, I just went to the bathroom.” you raised your eyebrows “Oh okay. You were just a long time is all.”
Harry didn’t get the chance to respond before the booming voice of Dumbledore filled the hall. “Good afternoon, students. I am hoping you are all well today. I am aware that we are all eager and excited, waiting in anticipation for the upcoming quidditch match final between Gryffindor and Slytherin. However I do have some unfortunate news. It is not within my wishes to worry any of you, but there have been sightings of dementors in the vicinity surrounding the school. We advise you to stay vigilant and curfew has been reduced by an hour. Any students spotted outside of their dorms after 9:30pm will receive a revoking of 10 housepoints.”
students began to uproar against the new rules. “That’s rubbish!” George and Fred shouted along with many other students making you and Hermione laugh. “Silence!” Dumbledore yelled “That is the end of matter.” the room went quiet. “Now, in other news and lighter matters we have a new student joining us today.” You found it strange that Dumbledore was adding a new student at the end of term. But hey, who were you to question it?
“He has been placed in Slytherin. So, we hope that the slytherin students will do their best to make him feel welcome.” You looked towards your table and made awkward eye contact with Draco before swiftly looking away towards Theo, who shrugged.
“So without further ado, give a warm welcome to our newest student, Matteo Riddle.”
hey matteo i love you GUYS IM SO SORRY OMG THIS TOOK ME FOREVER UNACCEPTABLY LONG. i love you all forgive me I apologise a thousand times. I’m sorry ik this chapter doesn’t have loads of substance and is a bit shit let’s not lie. I hope you enjoy it anyway my lovelies 💓
taglist: @l0kis-slvt @mvdbldd @dr4cking @steveslittlesunflower @paradisdementor @wanniiieeee @sycathorn-slush @im-constantly-fangirling @persephoneshellfire @illy1011 @alexasierra888 @mwest17 @iluvfanfics @miss-celestial-being @slythermuf @ssa-hotchnershoney @croren @iamasu @etherealyoonghwa @eclecticpatrolroadlawyer @mrshowf @crazylokonugget @kat-nee @minsuuwu @teenwolfstansstuff
#draco fanfiction#draco fluff#draco imagine#draco angst#draco malfoy#draco malfoy x reader#draco lucius malfoy#draco smut#draco malfoy imagines#draco x y/n#draco malfoy imagine#draco x reader#draco malfoy smut#draco malfoy fanfiction#draco story#draco fic#draco#draco malfoy fluff#draco series#draco malfoy x you#draco x you#draco x self insert#draco x slytherin!reader#draco x female reader
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Y/N & Ron Weasley Getting Caught Making Out by Molly Weasley
Y/n and Ron had found a quiet spot behind the Burrow away from the prying eyes of Ron's brothers and friends. The two of them had been secretly dating for a few months now keeping their relationship hidden from Ron's nosy and overprotective mother Molly Weasley.
As they embraced each other their lips locked in a passionate kiss they were completely lost in the moment. Their hands wandered and their bodies pressed close forgetting everything else but this stolen moment of bliss.
Unbeknownst to them Molly Weasley had just stepped out onto the back porch intending to call Ron inside for dinner. With a tray of freshly baked apple pies in her hands she stopped abruptly her eyes widening in shock as she witnessed her youngest son and Y/n locked in an intimate embrace.
Molly's face flushed with a mix of embarrassment shock and anger. She dropped the tray of pies causing them to crash to the ground below. The sound of the shattering plates snapped Y/n and Ron out of their trancelike state and they quickly pulled away from each other a look of pure panic etched on their faces.
"Mum!" Ron stammered his ears turning bright red. "I... we... it's not what it looks like!"
Molly's voice trembled with a mix of fury and disbelief as she struggled to find her words. "Ronald Bilius Weasley! How could you? And right here behind the house? I can't believe this!"
Y/n's heart sank as she realized the gravity of the situation. She had always known Molly to be a strict and traditional woman when it came to matters of romance and she could only imagine how disappointed she must feel in Ron. Y/n looked down at her feet wishing she could disappear.
"I... I'm sorry Mum Ron mumbled his voice barely audible. "We were just... carried away I guess."
Molly took a deep breath trying to compose herself. "Carried away? Ronald you know very well that we have rules in this house! You cannot just go around making out with someone behind our backs!"
"I know Mum Ron said his voice filled with guilt. "I didn't mean to disrespect you or the rules. I really care about Y/n and we just... we got caught up in the moment."
Molly sighed her anger gradually dissipating replaced by a mix of concern and disappointment. She looked at Y/n who had finally found the courage to lift her gaze.
"Y/n I know you're a good person Molly said her voice softening. "And I understand that young people sometimes make mistakes. But my dear I expect better from you as well. You both need to learn to control your impulses and show more respect for yourselves and others."
Y/n nodded tears welling up in her eyes. "I'm sorry Mrs. Weasley. We never meant to disrespect you or your rules. We'll be more careful in the future I promise."
Molly sighed again her expression softening. She reached out and gently placed a hand on Y/n's shoulder. "Y/n dear I believe you. Just please remember that actions have consequences and it's important to be mindful of that. Now let's go inside. I'll make a fresh batch of apple pies and we can all sit down for dinner and talk about this like a family."
Y/n and Ron exchanged glances feeling a mix of relief gratitude and determination. They knew they had made a mistake but with Molly's understanding and guidance they would work on rebuilding the trust they had inadvertently shattered.
Together they walked back toward the house ready to face the consequences of their actions and learn from their youthful indiscretions.
Harry Potter Masterlist
#harry potter scenarios#harry potter#harry potter short story#harry potter reactions#harry potter x reader#ron weasley#ron wealsey x y/n#molly weasley#Hogwarts
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AND the no shutout streak is in danger. *Ron Weasley voice "can we panic NOW?"
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Everyone Wants to be My Enemy
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/0DTMusB
by GomarnicYumika
"Who's he?" I asked, gripping my hand towards the gun around my hip.
My mind was having one of those episodes, and I wasn't going to let some stranger take advantage of me.
"You're... You're Quin's sister!" The stranger said.
"Ron, we can work this out..." Quin said, but I was having none of it.
"This... This is a trick! You're playing me-"
The voices in my head heightened, and I screamed at them to shut up and that I'm in no mood.
"We didn't say anything," Ron said, but I pointed my gun at him. "I wasn't talking to you!"
"Harry, it's ok," Quin gently whispered.
"Stop calling me that! It's Jinx now! Harry fell down a well!" I shouted.
They were surprised to hear my old name, but I wasn't having it.
The next thing I knew, I ran away as far as I can from them.
"Harry!" Quin yelled, yet I was too far to hear my twin.
Words: 1639, Chapters: 2/?, Language: English
Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Arcane: League of Legends (Cartoon 2021)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Categories: F/M, M/M
Characters: Harry Potter, Jinx (League of Legends), Sevika (Arcane: League of Legends), Caitlyn (League of Legends), Vi (League of Legends), Ekko (League of Legends), Silco (Arcane: League of Legends), Jayce (League of Legends), Viktor (League of Legends), Quin Potter, James Potter, Lily Evans Potter, Original Potter Family Characters (Harry Potter), Draco Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa Black Malfoy, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape, Minerva McGonagall, Poppy Pomfrey, Pomona Sprout, Filius Flitwick, Rubeus Hagrid, Voldemort (Harry Potter), Bellatrix Black Lestrange, Blaise Zabini, Regulus Black, Pansy Parkinson, Ginny Weasley, Nymphadora Tonks, George Weasley, Fred Weasley, Percy Weasley
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Pansy Parkinson, Ron Weasley/Blaise Zabini, Caitlyn/Vi (League of Legends), Past James Potter/Lily Evans Potter - Relationship, James Potter/Severus Snape, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, Arthur Weasley/Molly Weasley
Additional Tags: Female Harry Potter, Morally Grey Harry Potter, Eventual Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Protective Jinx (League of Legends), Protective Sevika (League of Legends), Harry Potter Has Mental Issues, Jinx Has Mental Issues, Sevika Is the Sane One, Redemption Potter Family, Jinx is Harry Potter's Mother, Harry Potter Gets the Love He Deserves, Harry Potter was Adopted by Other(s), Wrong Boy-Who-Lived (Harry Potter), Ravenclaw Harry Potter, Harry Potter Has Panic Attacks, Draco Helps Out, Jinx Likes Him, Sevika Not So Much
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/0DTMusB
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If you haven’t read TSS’s episode 41 yet, blacklist ‘tss spoilers’ if you don’t want to deal with me and my thoughts just yet.
Okay. Okay. Where to even fricking start?!
Mr. Thorne, the theatre guy that hired them to hunt an alleged ghost and never informing our two heroes about Ryan and Colin, is a grade A nut job. He is attempting to create a vessel of some sort so he can communicate with those from beyond ‘our realm’ and Ryan was a failure, even if the runes did seem to react favorably at first. The end result was...quite the sight. That seems to be similar with Oberon and Titania’s plans, albeit in a very early stage. (Now we know what made a pumpkin look horrified, and let me tell you, same. Trigger warning for trypophobia.) He seems to be more knowledgeable about Ether and how it works than an average person should, even if he is part of an one-man-cult, even being in possession of an Ether disruptor of all things.
Now, with that shitty sort of introduction out of the way, to the crux of the matter; Ichabod. According to Thorne, he is a working vessel, an older model, as well, that is deteriorating, quite fricking rapidly if I may add, because only four episodes ago, Ichabod’s hand was a very healthy pink, now looking mummified. Maris has been trying to preserve him, not just his connection to the Ether, but that isn’t going to work for the long term. Obviously.
Now, what I find curious, is what Thorne says next; “No visible markings. Her technical skills are impressive as always.” He is either referring to Maris’ skills to keep Ichabod alive, or to whichever witch brought Ichabod back to this form of living. Because it is highly probable to be a witch’s work at hand here. There is a chance Alice did the bringing back, since he is an ‘older model’, but also might be some other witch that doesn’t have any other role. Honestly, though, I doubt Alice had anything to do with Ichabod, because considering how powerful she is supposed to be, Ichabod wouldn’t be in the predicament of drying up. I am certain it wasn’t Maris, because she’d know what was going wrong with his continued existence and wouldn’t revert to regular applications of ‘stay the frick alive’ spells. (There is also the dark theory that Ichabod was created by Titania and Oberon, which, slightly doubtful -considering they didn’t seem to realise he was a vessel- but would lead to such sweet, sweet heavily emotional drama.) I’m leaning towards Maris’ skills to keep pumpkin-head alive.
There are still so many questions about Ichabod, but what we can surmise it to with what we have so far is this; he is an older model of a vessel, that while well-made and well-preserved, is still rapidly mummifying, that is practically running on Ether, and as he dries up, his connection weakens, leading to a vicious circle of regular reapplications of ‘preservation’ spells, since that connection to the Ether makes it hard for spells to stick.
Of course trying to harm to Ichabod in front of -or behind, let’s be honest here, Ellie would have gone ballistic either way- Ellie, is obviously a Really Bad Idea and Mr. Thorne is about to find out just how much. In 7 days. A week. (Please tell me; did she punch him or is she holding him at gun-point with Ichabod’s shotgun?)
#tss spoilers#Third Shift Society#s02 ep41#webtoons#comics#personal#captain's log#*Ron Weasley voice: Can we panic now?!*#I'll come back to this later today#I need to sleep and put my thoughts in some semblance of an order
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Let Me Protect You {Ron Weasley}
(A/N): Hello! Once again, this was requested through Wattpad so I hope you like it!
Pairing: Ron Weasley x Hufflepuff!Reader
Summary: (Y/N) Scamander, Harry, and Hermione help Sirius and Buckbeak escape. When they go back to the Hospital Wing, she and Ron have a small argument that leads to her accidentally confessing her feelings to him.
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(Y/N) caresses Buckbeak's feathers with the largest smile on her face. It has been a while since her last encounter with the Hippogriff and, while she would've loved for it to be on a better occasion, she's happy to see him doing well. It used to be hard to block out the memory of his death sentence earlier but now it just feels like a faded nightmare. He's alive right before her very eyes. "You'll be good, right?" (Y/N) whispers as she lovingly scratches his sides.
The creature makes a content sound and she laughs lightly. "I see you've got your grandfather's natural talent." A voice comments from behind.
(Y/N) turns to Sirius with a nod. "Well, granddad always made sure that my brother and I saw the beauty of all magical creatures. And It's hard not to when you basically grew up surrounded by them."
"That sounds like Newt Scamander alright," Sirius says. "I'm sure he'd be proud of you."
(Y/N) grins at his words. She likes to think that as well.
She takes in Sirius' appearance as he stands in front of her. He looks exhausted and drained from life but he somehow manages to maintain a powerful twinkle in his eyes. After all, he finally got to meet his godson and now he's free from Azkaban. And Buckbeak is free too; (Y/N) is sure that both of them will be in good hands. She only wishes that a certain ginger boy was there with them to bid both of them goodbye.
Unfortunately, Ron was in no condition to go back in time with (Y/N), Harry, and Hermione because of his injured leg, which is still worrying her. It's nothing new, really, she has been constantly worrying over him since their first year at Hogwarts. It has gotten to the point where Ron feels like most of the time he's being scolded by his mother and, while he secretly does appreciate (Y/N)'s concern, he simply does not understand why she feels the need to be so overprotective all the time.
After Harry and Sirius say their goodbyes, Sirius climbs on top of Buckbeak and takes one last look at all three teenagers. "I'll be forever grateful for this. To all of you."
"We'll see each other again, right?" Harry asks with a hopeful tone.
Sirius smiles softly. "I would love nothing more than that. One day, perhaps. But not like this."
And then he flies away as they wave at him.
Hermione gives Harry a few moments to take it all in before she says, "We should head back now."
Harry and (Y/N) nod in agreement as the three of them run off to make their way back to the Hospital Wing.
***
When they make it to the front doors, Dumbledore is coming out of the room at the same time they arrive. He looks down at them. "Well?"
"He's free," Harry answers. "We did it."
"Did what?" Dumbledore says. Before they can respond, he gives them a knowing look while he walks away. "Goodnight!"
Once he's out of sight, the three of them smile at each other before opening the doors to find Ron lying on the same spot they had left him. (Y/N) sighs in relief at the sight. "How'd you three get over there?" He questions, his eyes wide in panic. "I was just talking to you... over there."
"It's... a little hard to explain." Is Hermione's answer while she and Harry look at each other in amusement.
(Y/N) does not say anything but runs to the injured boy, wrapping her arms around his neck. They had only gone back a couple of hours but she missed him like they hadn't seen each other in months. "Hey," Ron mumbles against her hair while slowly wrapping his arm around her waist.
"How have you been feeling? Does it still hurt?" (Y/N) pulls away and checks his leg. She is careful not to make any sudden movement that could cause him any more pain.
"I'm fine," he rolls his eyes at her.
"She's been worried this whole time, cut her some slack, Ron," Harry says.
Ron sighs. "Honestly, (Y/N), sometimes you're a bit too much."
(Y/N) blinks at him. She slowly stands up from her place on the small bed. "Am I not allowed to worry over you?"
"Yes, but you treat me like I'm a bloody baby," he says, his voice a bit louder. "I don't need you to protect me from every single thing, I can handle myself."
(Y/N) feels how her whole body suddenly begins to grow hot from her rising anger. "Says the guy who almost got his leg broken."
"Guys-"
"How was I supposed to know that Sirius would drag me into the Whomping Willow?" Ron protests, completely ignoring Hermione's voice. "My point is that you can't go a single day without obsessing over my well-being and It's getting tiring."
"Well, excuse me for caring about you, Ronald," (Y/N) is almost shouting. Luckily, there is no one in the room but the four of them. "Excuse me for wanting for you to be okay. I didn't ask to have feelings for you, you know!"
The silence is almost unbearable after (Y/N)'s little outburst; all of them are shocked, including herself. Ron is gaping at her with the widest eyes, and she seems to mimic his expression while unable to look away from him. She hears Hermione clearing her throat in the background. "Harry, we should-"
"Yeah," Harry says quickly, and in a matter of seconds (Y/N) hears the doors closing behind them.
Neither of them says anything at first, both too stunned to speak. It feels like an eternity as they wait for the other to make the first move. Ron thinks that (Y/N) will finally say something when he hears her making a small sound, but it sounds like she just wants to speak up and the words are caught in her throat. "You have feelings for... me?" he manages to let out.
(Y/N) fiddles with her fingers before she groans. "Let's just pretend I didn't say anything, okay?"
There's silence again but this time it doesn't seem to last too long. However, (Y/N) drops her gaze because she cannot bear to keep looking at him. She feels her cheeks burning so bad that she thinks they'll melt away at any second. "I'm sorry," Ron is the first one to speak, again. His voice is low this time. "I shouldn't have talked to you that way."
"It's fine," (Y/N) says. "You were right, I was being a bit too much. And It's not like I think that you can't defend yourself, It's just that... I don't know..."
"No, you didn't do anything wrong," Ron reassures her. "I-I appreciate that you care about me, but-"
(Y/N) looks up again to see that he's awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. "But what?"
Ron is the one to look away now and she can't help but walk closer to him, sitting back down next to him. She notices that she's not the only one blushing. "When you protect me like that, it... it makes me feel like I can't protect you."
(Y/N) stares at him blankly because her brain does not seem to process what he just said instantly. She actually thinks that she might've misheard him, surely it had to be that! "Why would you-"
"Becauseihavefeelingsforyoutoo."
"What?"
"Nothing!" Ron shakes his head furiously. "I didn't say anything!"
But (Y/N) can't keep being in denial; she heard him clearly this time, despite his rushed words. And, by the way that he became so flustered so quickly, she knows that his words aren't meaningless. And that's enough for her.
Her lips break into a huge grin, so much that her cheeks hurt but the pain does not affect her. She cannot help herself when she leans in and places a quick kiss on his cheek. Ron's eyes almost pop out and his heart beats faster the more he realizes what she had just done. His hand reaches up to touch the stinging spot where her lips had come and gone just a moment ago, as if he's making sure that he didn't just imagine it happening. "What was that?"
(Y/N) giggles. "I kissed your cheek."
Hearing it out loud makes Ron's crimson color deepen. "Well, d-don't do it again!"
Rolling her eyes, (Y/N) scoots closer. "Fine."
Instead, she wraps her arms around his waist and rests her head against his chest. "(Y/N)!"
"What?" she does not move. "You didn't say I couldn't hug you."
She snuggles into him while sighing contentedly and Ron is paralyzed. When he begins to relax, though, he smiles to himself. He surprisingly does not mind this type of affection coming from her.
#harry potter au#fanfic#fanfiction#harry potter#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter imagine#harry potter scenarios#harry potter fandom#harry potter fanfic#harry potter fanfic rec#harry potter fluff#ron weasley#ron wealsey x y/n#ron weasly imagine#ron weasly x reader#ron weasley imagine#ron weasley fanfiction#ron weasley fic#ronald weasley#ron weasley scenario#prisoner of azkaban#hp
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Weird ~ G.W.
Summary: George is gorgeous. Charlie is a meddler. The snow is cold. (this summary sucks...just read it)
Pairing: George Weasley x Y/N
Word Count: 2,404 (who do I think I am?)
Warnings: mentions of bullying. mentions of food/eating. george is unknowingly triggering? reader cries. idk? let me know if i missed something.
A/N: part 2? maybe? translations are for romanian via google translate. do not come for me if they are hella wrong.
Translations: draga - darling; dragoste - love; tampit - stupid
I had never been normal. From the time I was a toddler I had stars in my eyes and dirt on my knees. While the other kids in my grade were playing with dolls and dressing respectably, I was riding imaginary dragons and wearing mismatched socks with dungarees and a butterfly headband. Normalcy evaded me even further when at 11 years old, I got a letter declaring me a witch.
When I first came to Hogwarts I spent the majority of my time alone. It appeared that even children who could wave a stick around and makes things fly wanted nothing to do with the colorful little girl. Meeting Luna Lovegood in my second year was the best thing that had ever happened to me. Here was a girl who allowed me to be exactly who I was with no judgments. And then she introduced me to Neville Longbottom and Ginny Weasley, and suddenly that little girl who thought her only friends would always be the rocks she painted faces on, had found her people.
Of course, being friends with Ginny Weasley meant knowing her many brothers. So after graduation when I went off to Romania to work with dragons it made me feel slightly better knowing Charlie Weasley would be there. He quickly took me under his wing and became the older brother figure I had never had. After working together for three years, and electing to stay at the sanctuary for the last two over the holidays, he had finally convinced me to come home with him. I was reluctant to leave the sanctuary - the one place I truly feel safe (despite the massive fire breathing creatures).
Charlie had warned me that being with one or two of the Weasleys was very different from being with the entire Weasley clan. Obviously I knew Charlie and Ginny, Ron had always been nice to me, and I had met Molly a handful of times in passing. However, Bill was known to be quite intimidating, Percy was supposedly very no-nonsense, and the twins (albeit never cruel) had a reputation of being hell-raisers.
Apparating to the edge of a marsh with Charlie by my side I could see the rising structure haphazardly balanced slightly ahead.
Pausing, I glanced at the back of the familiar red covered head, “I don’t know Charles, maybe I should just go back. I really don’t want to be a burden.”
Charlie very quickly rounded behind me to continue guiding me towards his home, “No, no, no, no, no. No. You’re not a burden to anyone draga. Keep your head up and if any of them give you grief - remind them of the giant, winged beasts you can feed them to.”
Quickly placing a kiss to the side of my head Charlie bounded ahead again to open the door and announce your arrival. Before I could toe off the first boot to leave next to the dozen other pairs in the entryway, a pair of arms had flung around my neck.
“Y/N! I missed you so much!”, Ginny pulled back, keeping her grip on my shoulders, to inspect for any major injuries.
I held onto her elbows, keeping her close, “Hi Gin, I missed you too. A lot. I’m loving this new look by the way.”
She reached up to brush the now short locks behind her ears. A grin on her face as the two of us looked the other over for the first time in months. Ginny was wrapped in a pretty baby pink sweater with shades of red and white running through it. The material was soft against my palm as I hooked it around her crooked elbow to follow her into the living area.
“You know”, she started, “I was starting to think maybe Charlie had let you get eaten or burnt to a crisp in the land of dragons. It’s been so long since you’ve come to see me or left the sanctuary.”
“I’m sorry Ginny. It’s just that after everything, I had to keep myself busy.”
Ginny’s smile softened into one of understanding. The war had taken a part of all of us. Although Fred had recovered after many months, that fear of almost losing such a vital part of their family had rocked the entire Weasley family to its core.
“I get it, I do, but I worry about you. I just want you to know you’re not alone Y/N.”
I pulled the girl into another tight hug, “I know.”
Ginny pulled away first, clearing her throat, “Okay! Now that’s out of the way - it’s time to introduce the one and only Y/N L/N to the Weasley’s.”
I hummed, “Hmmm and which of us should be more scared?”
“Oh definitely the Weasleys.”
~~~~~~~~~~~
Meeting the Weasley family had gone much better than expected.
Molly had opened her arms and home to me as if I was one of her own children. By the time the night was over she had me stuffed full of warm food and drink and donning my very own coveted Weasley sweater, the lavender initial in the middle marking it as my own. Arthur had been very interested in my muggle parents and upbringing, questioning me about the functions of a rubber duck. Bill and his wife Fleur were the most stunning couple I have ever seen, and not nearly as intimidating as people portrayed them. Fleur was pleased when she found out I spoke a bit of conversational French and promised to have me over to Shell Cottage (apparently they have an amazing collection of wind chimes that I am dying to see). Percy was a bit more refined. Completely polite and friendly but he seemed reserved. Ginny had explained in one of her letters how much guilt Percy carried after the Battle of Hogwarts over how he had behaved in the years leading up to that day.
The twins were much different than I remembered them being from the few times we were around each other in school. The physical differences were clear - George’s missing ear and Fred’s dragging limp were both signs of the prices they paid in the war. More than that however, they had matured greatly. They were still happy and made sure to pull at least two pranks over the night, poor Molly nearly lost her voice after they blew up the turkey. However, there was something in their eyes that had been dimmed. Especially in George.
His twin almost died that night, and it reflected in George’s eyes each time he looked at his older brother. It was clear that he was still afraid because whenever Fred left a room George followed, never letting his brother out of his sight, and if he happened to lose track of him a panic began to swirl in his brown orbs.
I was in the middle of watching as George yet again made his way to Fred’s side, clapping a large hand on his twins shoulder and throwing his head back in laughter.
“So which one are you staring at dragoste?”, Charlie whispered as he appeared out of nowhere.
I ignored the burning in my cheeks as I looked away from the scene in front of me.
“I am not staring at either of them tampit.”
“Mhmm, sure, absolutely, I believe you.”, after a quick pause he said, “It’s George isn’t it?”
I turned and scoffed at him, “No!… How did you know?”
Charlie let out a chuckle, “Because I know you my little dragon. I also know my brother, and just between us, he definitely likes you as well.”
At this I let out an incredulous laugh and glanced back to where George was now telling a story, his hands moving animatedly. There was no way that George Weasley had even a remote attraction to me. He was kind, strong, clever, and so bloody gorgeous it truly was a privilege to look at him. And I am…me. Nothing special. Just a girl who had more dragon friends than human ones and whose hands were covered in scars and callouses and whose socks never matched and had never even kissed a man before. So no, there was no way that George Weasley would ever like me.
“Hey. I know that look Y/N. Stop those thoughts right this bloody second.”
“Charles it really is annoying when you read me like that.”
Throwing his arm over my shoulder he began to lead me towards the twins, “Yes I know and I am sorry in advance but this needs to be done. Fred!”
Charlie’s voice had gone from a rushed whisper to a jovial shout when we reached George, Fred, and Ron by the fireplace. George’s smile as he turned to look at us sent a million butterflies off in my tummy.
“So Freddy, I was hoping you could help me out with a top secret project tomorrow for mum and maybe show me around the joke shop. I heard you added some new displays that I want to check out.”
“Sure Charlie”, Fred glanced at George as he spoke, “I’m sure we can make some time for our favorite brother.”
Ignoring Rons protest, Charlie gripped my shoulders and pushed me in front of him, “Actually George I was thinking you could stay here and show Y/N around the area. She mentioned wanting to talk a walk tomorrow and I would hate to disappoint her on her first Christmas out of the sanctuary.”
“Um-”
I interrupted the rejection coming from George, “No please, I would hate to be a bother and make you be stuck with me all day. I’m sure Ginny can take me.”
George smiled and shook his head, “No it’s completely fine Y/N. I would be happy to show you around.”
“Okay great! It’s settled then!”, Charlie looked rather too pleased with himself and obviously missed the look exchanged by his identical younger brothers.
~~~~~~~~~~
The next morning the Burrow was a flurry of movement as everyone began their day. Apparently Charlie and Fred weren’t the only ones on their way out. The others still had some last minute gift shopping to do and Ron was spending the day with Hermione’s muggle family. After breakfast, a quick wink from Charlie, and a slam of the front door - George and I were alone in the house.
The two of us stood facing one another in the living room for a few awkward moments before George spoke, “Well, um, did you want to head out as well?”
“Oh sure! Yes, let me just grab my boots really quickly.”
George led me out the door and onto the snow covered path towards the small, iced over river. Nothing was said for a while, the only sound was the crunch of snow under our boots and the occasional sniffle from one of our red noses. I was mentally imagining all the ways I was going to kick Charlie’s ass when he got back for suggesting a walk in the middle of winter when we came to the top of a hill and stopped.
Everything as far as the eye could see was blanketed in sheets of white. Stomping my boots down into the fresh snow, I couldn’t help the giggle that escaped as the snow gave way underfoot. Feeling a pair of eyes on me I remembered that I wasn’t alone and turned to see George watching me with an unidentifiable look on his face.
“Sorry, sorry. That was - I don’t know why I did that. I liked the feeling of the crunch of the snow I guess. Sorry.”
George grinned, “You don’t have to apologize. It was cute.”
I could feel my face flush at his words. His smile grew even wider at the sight of my heated face. My gaze dropped from his pretty face down to my boots. I could feel the thick socks I had on beginning to grow cold and wet from how long we’d been outside. Looking back up I could see George’s deep eyes glaze over. Assuming it was because he had been apart from Fred so long I glanced out at the view one last time before turning back the way we came.
“We should probably get back. We’ve been gone a while and my toes are getting wet. I feel bad enough that Charlie forced you to do this anyways without you getting frostbite or something. I’ve had frostbite, it’s not fun. And now I’m rambling. I’m sorry. Sorry”
George was shaking his head at me and said, “You are so weird.”
Ouch. My chest tightened and the small smile I had been wearing dropped from my face. If I had been able to see past the tears forming in my eyes that were making my sight blurry, I would have seen George’s face do the same. Unfortunately, all I could focus on was that word. Weird. Strange. Abnormal. Freak.
Weird weird weird.
The walk back was silent. A thick tension surrounded you both as thick snow flurries began to swirl down in the midmorning air. Just as thick was the lump forming in my throat as I fought back tears. I know I shouldn’t let his words affect me. He’s just some guy. But deep down I also know that he’s not just some guy. This is George fricking Weasley. With his stupid perfect face and gorgeous eyes and his loyalty to his family. I couldn’t help but be enamored with him from the moment I walked in the Weasley’s front door. So it hurt to hear the man I liked call me that nasty word that has haunted me my entire life.
When we finally reached the Burrow, George tried to reach for my arm but I pulled away and ran into the house. I could hear that some of the others had returned and really wanted to avoid a confrontation. Once again, luck wasn’t on my side. Charlie came walking out of the kitchen and saw me in the entryway. His face immediately became concerned at the sight of me and he lowered the sandwich he had from his mouth.
“Draga?”, Charlie’s voice followed me as I finally reached the stairs and launched upstairs.
As I reached the first landing I heard him speak again, his voice rough and hard.
“What did you do?”
#george weasley#george weasley imagine#george weasley x reader#george weasley angst#george weasley fluff#harry potter fanfic#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter writing#harry potter imagine#hp imagine#charlie weasley#charlie weasley x platonic!reader#charlie weasley imagine#hp#harry potter
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Day 29, Story #1 is by @floreatcastellumposts
Title: In Vino Veritas
Author/Artist: Floreatcastellum
Pairing: Gen (Harry - Molly platonic/parent-child)
Prompt: In Vino Veritas
Rating: T
Trigger Warning(s) (if any): Heavy alcohol consumption, mild language.
Molly Weasley was not stupid, and was well aware that young men enjoyed going out and getting drunk. She was not even particularly opposed to it - in principle - and she had to admit that she was very relieved to see George so excited about something. He hadn’t been excited in several long months.
‘Just don’t be too silly,’ she told him.
‘Us? Silly?’ he said, affronted.
‘I mean it, things might be safer but you’re all still targets - especially Harry, he needs to be particularly aware-’
‘I think he is more than aware that people out there want him dead. What he needs is a lot of alcohol to forget that.’
‘No, George.’
She knew he was winding her up, but she also knew that they were planning a big night out, because Ron and Harry had never really had one before, and in all honesty as much as she couldn’t help her disapproval, she did also feel that it was a shame they had missed out on such a rite of passage.
All the same, since George had let it slip, she knew she was going to worry, and her way of coping with that twisting, maternal anxiety was to insist that after their night out they returned, not to the flat in Diagon Alley they shared, but to the Burrow so that she could make them a full English in the morning.
She had also intended to stay up waiting for them, and to call the Law Enforcement Patrol if they were not back by half one to go and search for them, just in case something terrible had happened. But it was an awfully cold Halloween, and so she had got into bed next to Arthur so that she could have the warmth of the duvet, propped herself up against the headboard, and started knitting. The next thing she knew, she was being woken by an almighty crash.
‘Oh, fuck!’
‘Wahey!’
Both Molly and Arthur had already grabbed their wands in a panic before they heard their son’s exasperated voice.
‘Get up - get up, you idiot - George, hold him - oh for crying out loud-’
‘RON-’
‘Ssh! Don’t shout-’
‘Get him some water-’
‘He needs more than water - ahhh I have a brilliant idea-’
‘No, you don’t, whatever it is, abandon it-’
‘HEY, WOW, LOOK AT-’
‘SSH!’
‘That’ll be the boys back, then,’ said Arthur, turning on the bedside lamp and giving her a wry smile. The clock on the table said that it was approaching three in the morning.
‘Sounds like it, what on earth is all the shouting about?’ she asked, pulling on her dressing gown. Tying the cord tightly about her waist and slipping her feet into slippers, she listened to the commotion echoing up the stairs, and tried to figure out what exactly they were doing.
She could hear snorting laughter as she descended the creaking stairs, and Ron’s voice again, sounding remarkably grown up, saying, ‘don’t encourage him, stop it - put that down-’
She could hear saucepans clattering and tins falling, and the hissing spit of the gas; she looked over her shoulder to exchange a bewildered look with Arthur. ‘Are they cooking?’ she whispered, though there was no need, because there was no chance of them hearing her above the noise of George hooting.
‘Beans on toast, beans on toast!’
‘BEANS ON TOAST!’ came Harry’s echo.
‘Shut up, shut up, shut up, both of you, shut-’
‘BEANS ON TOAST!’
Molly had heard enough; she threw open the kitchen door so violently that George jumped and threw an open tin of baked beans several feet into the air. They landed with an impressive splatter across the slate floor. Harry, meanwhile, reached for his wand, but had instead seized a loaf of bread which he now brandished threateningly as he leaned against the counter. Ron had frozen in the middle of filling a glass of water, which now flowed over his hand. All three of them were still streaked with smears of paint from what she assumed were their Halloween costumes.
‘What on earth is going on in here?’ she demanded loudly.
Ron gave a heavy, exaggerated sigh. ‘You woke Mum and Dad,’ he told George and Harry pointlessly.
Harry lowered the bread, and held it sheepishly in both hands, like a child with a toy. George, in a carrying, apologetic whisper, said, ‘...sorry. We’re a bit drunk. Go back to bed.’
‘We can see that,’ said Arthur. ‘Harry,’ he added sharply. ‘What’s wrong with your foot?’
‘Oh, I… I fell on it. It doesn’t matter.’
‘He was dancing on a table!’ exclaimed George, with an accusatory point.
‘I wasn’t dancing, I was standing-’
‘Look at the state of you all!’ she said furiously, as Arthur calmly went over to Harry and guided him, hobbling, to a kitchen chair. ‘So irresponsible-’
‘I’m not that bad!’ said Ron defensively, and in truth Molly was rather surprised and a little proud at how he was being the responsible adult of the group, but there was no denying the heavy slurring, and the slight sway as he towered above her.
'You're not going to lose your bones,' she could hear Arthur saying reassuringly.
‘Mum,’ George was saying urgently, ‘Mum, can you make us beans on toast?’
‘No I will not make you beans on flipping toast! I’ll make you breakfast at a reasonable hour, right now you need to-’
‘Molly,’ Arthur called, ‘Molly, I think we’ll need some Skele-gro-’
‘Noooo - no, Mr Weasley, it’s fine, look, I can-’
Arthur gave a horrified yelp. ‘Don’t do that!’
‘I’ll get it,’ said Ron loudly, and, weaving erratically, he crossed the room to the Healing kit on top of the cupboards.
‘Mum,’ George continued, ‘if I hover up those beans, they’ll be all right, won’t they? Ten second rule, and if I let them boil for a bit?’
In short, it was chaos. Noisy, drunken chaos. In truth, she found it rather amusing, though it was still equally easy to frown and scowl at them. Somehow, and she could not muddle through the boys drunken logic, rooms were assigned and she found herself - and, again, she could not quite see how she had ended up in this situation, guiding Harry into Ron’s attic room and trying to help him into pyjamas. She had noticed before that Harry was a little more open, a little more affectionate, when he’d had a drink, but she had never quite seen him drunk before, and though the first time he had stopped her on the way up the stairs so he could hug her had been rather endearing, by this point she was getting rather fed up.
‘Mrs Weasley,’ said Harry loudly. ‘Mrs Weasley - I-’
‘Come on, dear,’ she said, more grumpily than she had ever spoken to him before.
‘I love you so much, Mrs Weasley-’
Her heart melted in an instant, she tried very hard to hide her smile, continuing to hold out the pyjama top. ‘You need to get into bed, dear.’
‘I love this whole family-’
‘That’s very sweet, Harry,’ she said patiently.
‘Bes’ family in the world-'
‘All right…’
‘Sorry, sorry,’ he slurred, and, though he was usually a very shy boy, he pulled his shirt off over his head, knocking his glasses half off in the process.
She looked politely away, but a few muttered swearwords made her look back, and, with a tut, she proceeded to help him untangle himself from the twisted shirt. ‘Hold still - this arm this way- that’s it-’
She had never realised just how covered in scars he was. On his chest, his arm…
The shirt fell to the floor, and she caught his glasses as they tumbled off his ear, and set them on the windowsill. When she turned back, he had one arm in the pyjama shirt, but was missing the other arm and twisting dramatically to try and get at it.
‘Silly boy, here you are,’ she said, helping him, and he started telling her thank you, over and over and over again. When it came to the pyjama bottoms, he seemed to realise that she was there, and gain a sense of shame, and he loudly asked her to turn away and not look, but when she went to the door to leave him to it, he shouted again.
‘No - no wait - Mrs Weasley don’t go, just don’t look - hang on-’
Finally, after the sounds of heavy, staggering hopping and a few more muttered swear words, she said, ‘can I look now?’ and he mumbled an agreement.
‘Oh, no, where are are my glasses?’ he asked, as she guided him to the bed. He sounded very worried.
‘They’re on the windowsill, and look-’ She pointed her wand at the bedside table, and a large jug of water and a glass appeared. ‘You’ve got water, and in a few hours you’ll have some food too, you just need to sleep some of this off. All right, dear?’
He collapsed heavily onto the bed. ‘You’re like the mum I never had,’ he mumbled into the mattress. ‘Mrs Weasley. My aunt never was this kind. Wish I’d been here all ‘long.’
She swallowed, and perched on the bed beside him, and reached out to brusy back his messy hair. ‘I wish you had too,’ she said quietly. ‘But you’re part of the family now, aren’t you? For good. I love you too, we all do.’
'I'm sorry,' he whispered suddenly, rolling onto his side with what must have been considerable effort.
'It's all right, you're just a bit drunk, you know I play the grumpy Mum act up a bit.'
'No. I… I’m sorry for everything I put you and your family through.'
She placed her hand against his face, and looked into his bright eyes. ‘I’d do it all again,’ she told him. ‘In a heartbeat.’
‘Would you?’ he asked quietly. ‘If you knew? If you knew everything that would happen?’
‘I absolutely would still talk to the little boy alone in Kings Cross,’ she said firmly. ‘In fact, I think I would probably go looking for him.’
His eyelids drooped, he sighed heavily. ‘Kings Cross… Thank you.’
Within seconds, she was sure that he was asleep, gone to the world, utterly unwakeable. She smiled, kissed him on the temple, and left the room. From the sounds of it, Arthur was still arguing with George about beans on toast.
#chudleycanonficfest2021#HP fest#canon fest platonic#submission#tw: mild language#tw: heavy alcohol consumption
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meet the weasleys — george weasley
pairing: george weasley x female!reader
summary: george takes reader to meet his family.
requests are closed for now. please refrain from plagiarizing my work!
"I’m nervous."
"Well, don't be."
"Thank you, George. That somehow just alleviated all of my worries."
George snickers and squeezes her hand in reassurance. “Just relax. My family doesn't bite—or, well, Ron used to, but that was back when he was, what, five? And besides, you already know him, and he's never bit you before, has he?"
"Not helping."
"And you've met most of my family already."
“I haven't met your mum. Or your dad. Or Bill and Charlie,” she argues, eyes worriedly darting from George’s own to the wooden door in front of them.
George laughs again. His eyes don’t fail to catch onto the way she’s frantically tapping her foot against the ground, how she keeps worrying at her bottom lip. The sight has him grinning widely; he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t horribly endeared.
“Listen,” he says, removing his fingers from her own in favor of turning her around to face him. George’s hands go to her neck, cradling the sides of her cheeks. “They’re going to love you. And if they don’t—well, I can always find a different family.”
”George,” she sighs.
”Only joking,” he grins, and leans in to press a very brief kiss to the tip of her nose. “But I mean it. They’ll adore you. Possibly even more than I do, although that’s up for debate.”
She lets out a long breath, pursing her lips together in a feeble attempt at a smile, but George commends her for trying. He drops his hands back to his sides and laces his fingers through her own again, turning to face the door like they’re about to venture into some sort of grand adventure and not into his family’s living room—and George is about to twist open the knob, until [Y/N] goes, “Wait.”
He glances at her. Her eyes are wide and the look on her face still so uncertain. Sucking in a breath through her teeth, she asks him, “How do I look?”
The grin on George’s face is so impossibly wide. “Like a billion galleons,” he tells her. Just because he can’t resist the urge, he swoops down to press one more chaste kiss to her lips. And then finally, he twists the knob.
The moment George steps foot through the door, he’s immediately enveloped by the wafting scent of something being cooked on the stove. It smells familiar, like he should know what it is, but George has never been much of a chef. But he recognizes the sounds—the voices—coming from the kitchen despite all of them mingling together to form one raucous chorus of chatter. He knows exactly which voice belongs to who—knows that the loud shriek is his mum reprimanding one of them, knows that the sound of someone whining is very likely Ron. That laugh is Bill’s, too, mingled with Fred’s voice. George just knows, automatically, without even having to think about it. George knows, too, without looking down on the “welcome” mat in front of the door, that there are going to be muddy boots on top it—and there they are. He steps around them. George knows that there is going to be a quilt magically knitting itself together on the couch without even having to look at it—and there it is.
And just like that, he knows he’s home.
Something about having [Y/N] in the vicinity of a place so important to him—a place that’s part of him—has his heart feeling full. He pauses for a moment in the doorway, taking it all in, but he’s snapped out of his brief spell of inexplicable happiness when his father comes lumbering out of the door leading to the kitchen.
“George!” his dad exclaims loudly, and just like that all chatter from the room behind him ceases (“They’re here?!” he hears his mother panic). “We didn’t hear you come in!”
”Likely because mum was too busy screaming,” George grins, and walks forward to envelop his father in a hug.
”Ah, yes—Fred arrived half an hour ago and terrified Ron out of his wits with some sort of fake—no, actually, nevermind that! This must be [Y/N].”
Arthur’s eyes have landed on her, and George actually has to give her a little nudge for her to say something. Her eyes widen like she’s surprised at being addressed (as though the entire point of this gathering hadn’t been to get to introduce her), but then her lips break out into a smile and she steps forward to shake his father’s outstretched hand.
”It’s really nice to meet you,” she says, eyes crinkling at the edges. George stands to the side watching the scene unfold, feeling oddly proud.
”Yes, of course!” Arthur nods with remarkable enthusiasm, smiling just as wide. “I’ve heard so many wonderful things about you! You’re Muggle-born, correct?”
She lets out a tinkling laugh. “Yes, that’s right.”
”Brilliant!” he claps his hands together—but George knows exactly where this is going, so he cuts his father off and says, “I think we can address the function of a rubber duck later over dinner, dad.”
Arthur pauses, seemingly dejected, but then gathers himself and nods. “Oh, right, well, I suppose—“
”[Y/N]!”
And there’s George’s mum, Molly, coming from the kitchen, hurriedly pulling off her oven mitts to rush straight towards [Y/N] and envelop her in a big, warm hug. “Oh!” [Y/N] exclaims, obviously taken a bit by surprise given that the two of them have never met before, but eventually she breaks out into light laughs and hugs her back. [Y/N] meets George’s gaze over Molly’s shoulder; he gives her this encouraging sort of smile, and then jokingly complains, ”Blimey. S’pose I’m not missed here anymore.”
”Oh, quiet, you!” Molly frets, waving a dismissive hand in the air (George laughs) and then pulling away from [Y/N] to grip her by the arms and gush, “You’re far prettier than I could have ever imagined!”
[Y/N] flushes a shade of vibrant pink. “Oh, no—but thank you—“
”Have you gotten your vision checked lately, [Y/N]?” It’s Fred, leaning on the kitchen doorframe with a toy snake dangling from his hand. “Or do you really want to be with Georgey despite his baffling similarities to a mountain troll?"
”We’re twins, you prat.” George smacks the back of Fred’s head.
“Ah, right.” Fred is grinning despite having received a blow to the head. “It’s lovely seeing you, future-sister-in-law.”
Fred and [Y/N] have known each other just as long as she and George have, having gone to Hogwarts at the same time all those years ago. All three of them had bonded over their mutual love for pranks, although [Y/N] had always been their babysitter of sorts—the one who made sure none of their jokes went too far out of line. George loved her for it; loved how considerate and gentle she was despite her undeniable mischief. But he’d only really gotten himself to tell her after the war; one brief visit of hers to the joke shop turned into two, and then three, and then suddenly [Y/N] was always hanging around somewhere in Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, helping the business run along. It was Fred who convinced George, only six months ago, to confess his admiration for her after five years of holding himself back.
After the war, George had all the time in the world to take as many risks as he could. So he told her—and now here they are: [Y/N] ruffling Fred’s hair fondly, George trying to fend off his mother’s hands trying to fix his hair (“don’t you think you need a haircut, sweetie?”), and Ron making his grand entrance from behind Fred.
”Ron!” [Y/N] exclaims, catching sight of him, and then jokingly she adds, “I haven’t seen you in ages—last time I saw you you were the size of a Pygmy Puff.”
Ron scoffs out a laugh. “You’re only two years older than me, you know,” he huffs, but lets her hug him, anyway.
Brief introductions are made as Bill and Charlie enter the room. George watches as [Y/N] shakes their hands—Charlie hugs her, as he’s always been big on affection—and just like that George knows that she’s won all of them over, the way she’d done to him. The way she still does to him, after all this time.
Five minutes later they're being ushered into the garden behind the Burrow, where a long wooden table has been set up. There are golden streamers draped all around the bushes and hanging from the branches of trees, but that's hardly what captures George and [Y/N]'s attention first because at the very end of the long table, a large banner is floating in mid-air: one that says "WELCOME TO THE FAMILY!" in glittering silver letters.
George doesn't miss the look on [Y/N]'s face when she sees this; her eyes almost seem to well up with tears, and despite the picture-perfect setting in front of him—despite the golden streamers and the balloons and the faerie lights hanging in mid-air—it's that look on [Y/N]'s face that has his breath catching in his throat and his heart doing odd little double-takes inside his chest.
He loves her, he realizes. It’s nothing new—shouldn't be anything new to him, as he's known it for quite a while now—but still there are moments like this one where he pauses and has to take a while to let it sink in; the fact that the woman next to him, whose smile reminds him of every single happy moment he has ever lived through, loves him just as much as he loves her.
Knowing that is absolutely surreal.
"We didn't expect you to arrive so early!" Molly says, obviously harried as she passes by them bearing a cauldron of steaming soup. “The cookies are still baking—and [Y/N], honey, I sent Ginny upstairs to go fetch your sweater, she should be down any time soon—Ron, Fred, will you stop that!”
The two, who had been wrestling with the toy snake Fred held in his hands earlier, immediately drop their hands to their sides. “T’was Fred who started it,” grumbles Ron.
”And I plan on ending it!” Fred emits some sort of war-cry, but stops when he spots the look on his mother’s face. “Kidding, mum.”
—
It takes a good half-hour or so before the last of the dishes are finally set on the table and everyone is seated. There’s food of all sorts in front of them—treacle tarts, cakes, pudding, pie—and [Y/N], who initially thought she’d feel too nervous to eat anything, eats with ease. Like everyone else around the table, she’s wearing a fuzzy red sweater with her initial sewn in front; a gift to her from Molly. The moment she’d laid eyes on it she knew it was her favorite thing in the entire world.
She tells this to George, who raises his eyebrows and replies snarkily, “I’m gonna have to ask for you to return the necklace I gave you, then.”
”Oh, sod off,” she laughs, rolling her eyes, but she lets him spoon pie into her mouth.
“Gah, get a room!” complains Fred.
”It’s not like they’re snogging,” says Charlie.
”Would you like us to?” grins George, earning him a slap to the shoulder from [Y/N].
”There are children here, George,” she scolds.
”You’re only two years older!” protests Ron.
No one really notices, but the sun has long since sunken below the horizon. Everyone around the table is immersed in chatter; Ron, for example, has been roped into a passionate debate with Fred and George about the true purpose of Pygmy Puffs. (“They only exist to ask for food and jump around and make annoying little noises!” says Ron, to which George responds with, “That sounds like you, Ron.”) [Y/N], meanwhile, is offering an explanation to Arthur about the rubber duck.
“They don’t do much of anything, really. They float and squirt and sometimes they make noises.”
But Arthur looks disappointed, as though he’d been expecting something much more grand. So [Y/N], not wanting to bring down his mood, decides to add, ”I believe they’re also used to keep—um—Grindylows away from your bathwater.”
Mr. Weasley positively beams with joy. “Is that right? I told you, Molly, rubber ducks are magnificent little things!”
Molly gives her husband an exasperated look, but it disappears the moment she turns to [Y/N]. “We’re so glad to have you here, sweetie,” she tells her, reaching over the table to grasp her hand and offering her the most motherly smile [Y/N] has ever seen. “We’ve heard so many good things about you. George speaks so very highly of you—and he was right, you really are perfect for him!"
[Y/N] flushes, smiling. “Thank you, Mrs. Weasley.”
”Oh, no, no, call me Molly,” she laughs, waving a hand in the air. “You’re part of the family now, dear. No need for formalities.”
And [Y/N] does feel like it—like she’s part of this table. This family. Not just the girlfriend of one of their sons but someone who actually belongs.
It’s odd, in a magical sort of way, how all of their random conversations blend together to form one harmonious burst of chatter, how everything and everyone in that table just works. Like puzzle pieces from different sets, she thinks to herself. And they shouldn't fit, but they do.
So this is home for George. This is the place he grew up in. This is where his heart lives.
She can't help the way her eyes stray to him every now and then, noting the sheer joy reflected in his eyes, the way the smile on his lips never really goes away. How, even when Ron flicks a strawberry at his face—even when George threatens to send a whole army of pygmy puffs after him—there's still that joyful glint in his eyes.
With the end of winter right around the corner, surrounded by the family that has welcomed her with open arms, holding the hand of her very favorite person underneath table, fireflies flitting around above them as laughter echoes around the table: [Y/N] feels safe. Happy.
So this is home.
—
The next morning, [Y/N] and George find themselves walking along the edge of the woods where meadow rues grow, a little ways away from the Burrow. They walk unhurried, the soles of their feet swishing against the blades of grass with each step, hands hanging loosely intertwined between them.
They’d woken up before anyone else, when the sun had just barely begun to rise. George had told her to "Get up, I want to take you somewhere" and admittedly she'd whined a little, claiming to need five more minutes of sleep, but George, laughing, threw her over his shoulder and threatened to carry her all the way there if she didn't oblige.
But now, she's glad she came with.
At one point she stops walking, lifts her face to the sky and closes her eyes against the warmth of the sun, taking a deep breath and soaking in everything that the morning wants to bring her. George watches her without question, a fond little smile already tugging on the edges of his lips without him even realizing. [Y/N] is beautiful in the sunlight—or any light at all, actually. George isn't entirely convinced someone like her—someone so breathtakingly beautiful and gentle and patient—would want someone like him. But when he tugs on her hand, turning her around to face him, and when he cups her jaw and guides her closer to press their mouths together, she lets him. She doesn't even think about it. Just melts into him like it's the only thing she knows how to do.
And then she pulls back slightly but stays close, runs a palm down the length of George’s arm and links their fingers together.
"It’s not much," he tells her, voice uncharacteristically quiet. A little unsure. "But it's home." Because, now that the excitement from yesterday has faded, George knows what his house could look like to someone who hasn't lived there all their life—knows that it looks messy, like pieces of it were thrown together haphazardly. It’s not a manor. Nothing like the kind of houses you see featured on Witch Weekly. He knows that [Y/N] isn't the type to care, but still—
"I love it," she pulls away, throwing her head back in an actual laugh—the kind that reminds George of everything good in the world. "I love this place, George. And your brothers and Ginny and your parents. Yesterday was.." she pauses, calming down a little, taking in a deep breath as she squeezes his hand in her own. "It was magical."
Quietly, with her eyes skittering away to look back at the Burrow behind them, she tells him, "I'm really happy, George."
George knows he'll remember this moment forever. The day is just beginning, and he is standing on the edge of a forest-line with a girl who looks at him like in spite of however many weird things he does, whatever dumb things he says, however embarrassing and difficult and painful some days might be, George is still worthy of being hers.
#harry potter#harry potter oneshot#harry potter oneshots#harry potter imagine#harry potter imagines#harry potter x reader#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter fanfic#george weasley#george weasley oneshots#george weasley oneshot#george weasley imagine#george weasley imagines#george weasley x reader#george weasley fanfic#george weasley fanfiction#fred weasley#weasley twins#fred weasley x reader#fred weasley imagine
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James and/or Sirius laughing at Harry for growing (or trying to) grow a beard 🧔
That’s it
That’s my comment
Ahhh, it's midnight for me I work early tomorrow but I just *had* to write something along these lines!
Set during winter break at Year 6 (or my fave pining Harry time). Warning for some slang and also that I edited on the phone
________
“Fuck. No, no, it can’t be… fuck!”
The first slang would have made Sirius stop on his way down the hall, but the tone of desolation that follows it, added by the most hopelessness he has ever heard in Harry's voice, makes him open the door to his godson’s bedroom without waiting for an answer.
(Always risky when it comes to teenagers, but it seems to be an emergency)
The first thing he notices is the rotten smell, then the smoke coming out of a cauldron with the fire beneath still lit; sparkles are coming out of Harry’s wand, which he holds high (underage magic? That he won’t tell), but then Sirius’ gaze falls on Harry’s face and he ignores anything else.
Because on Harry’s face there is something so horrendous that Sirius won’t dare to call it a beard. It’s hair.
Harry’s chin spots the same hair as in his head. It’s a dark messy beard that makes him look as if his hair grew all around his mouth.
“What the hell?”
“Don’t laugh!” Harry tells him immediately, a little bit threatening, but Sirius is truly too shocked to even break a smile. This thing is too ghastly for even him to crack a joke about it. “I… I messed up, okay?”
“Kid, that’s an overstatement,” Sirius says, getting closer to his godson slowly. He touches his beard. “How did you get hair on your chin? That’s the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Ugh.” Harry throws a guilty look to the cauldron on the floor. “It’s Grandpa Monty’s fault.”
“Unless his ghost came back to screw your face, it seems as if you did this to yourself, kid.”
“No, I… Look!” He picks a scroll, waving it in front of Sirius’ nose. “I found his old notes in the attic. Five-Second Eazybeard! I swear I brewed the potion exactly as he wrote.”
Sirius eyes the smelly potion.
“Are you sure it was your granddad’s notes? This doesn’t seem like Monty's style at all.”
“Well… I thought so. He was the potioneer in the family, right? And he invented Sleekeazy!”
“And then he didn’t launch anything else,” Sirius reminds him, looking at the potion instructions.
“Because he was rich enough and didn’t need more money?”
Sirius laughs. “Nah, Monty was curious enough to keep inventing. This was probably an attempt that didn’t work.” Sirius shakes his head, smirking. “Look, I am not trying to pull a Lily here, but trying untested potions? That’s a bad idea, Harry.”
"I haven't had problems so far," Harry mumbles to himself. As Sirius is about to ask him what he means by that, Harry grabs his hand suddenly. "I learned the lesson, ok? Now you gotta help me!"
Sirius lifts an eyebrow. "The only thing that would help you is a scissor."
"I've tried! The bathroom is full of this thing, but it just grew back! I've tried to cut it magically, and it's all the same. You are the adult here, do something!"
"What do you want me to do? I can't do an antidote just looking at the ingredient list! You need Lily, just call her—"
"I…" the part of Harry's face that is not covered by hair flushes. "I can't. She is at the Burrow now, helping Mrs Weasley with the New Year's party."
"Then let's go, I am sure it will be easy for her—"
"No!" Harry looks in panic now, his eyes widened. "She cannot know what… what happened."
"Lily will know as soon as—"
"Not… not Mum, it's… look, that's fine. Mum will be back tomorrow, I will just spend the New Year hiding in my room pretending I don't exist."
"Harry… there's nothing to be embarrassed about. You know, growing hair body is perfectly normal at your age—"
"Ugh, stop teasing me."
"I wish I could, but you look truly horrible." Sirius winks at him, sitting on Harry's bed. "What prompted you to do this?"
Harry's flush intensifies.
"I was trying to grow a beard."
"Oh, really?"
"It's… it's stupid, okay? But Ginny was… I mean, I heard some girls saying that they enjoyed guys with a beard and I can only grow that stupid stubble and—argh—I just thought I could give it a try but now I have hair growing all around my head and—"
"You are babbling, kid, I got it."
"No, you don't." Harry runs his hand through his hair, looking very much like James when he is most nervous. "You get to grow a beard when you want it. You get this whole shining hair. You get women to sigh for you and I… I am just this stupid teenager who can't even have a full beard."
Sirius blinks. "You are worrying way too much, Harry. And, well, if you want to be assured, you are nice—girls have taken a fancy to you, haven't they?"
"That's just the Chosen One thing, it's not really… me."
Sirius fights back a smile. Harry seems really desolate.
"Look, you've grown well. You are still growing. I am sure people notice you. You have your mother's gorgeous eyes and you do look like James—if there is any comfort in this, I remind you that James got Lily to feel attracted to him, so you can't be that bad." Harry frowns, and Sirius isn't sure if it's because he doesn't want to think of their parents being attracted to each other or if because he doesn't trust Lily's opinion on this matter. "I am sure Ginny thinks you are attractive, beard or no beard."
Harry jumps.
"Who said anything—"
"Oh, are we still pretending you don't fancy her?"
Harry looks away. "I have no idea what you are talking about."
"Yeah, sure. So you don't mind going to the Burrow now and showing up like this?"
"Of course I do! I mean… Ron would tease me."
"Ron."
"And the twins. I mean, look at this!"
"Yeah, I would be upset if they didn't. So many joke opportunities. You are hairy, Harry."
Harry puts his hands in front of his face. Sirius refrains from telling him this doesn't hide his beard at all.
"So… what do I do now?"
"We truly need Lily's help on this… we need to go to the Burrow."
"I can't—"
"Don't worry." Sirius breathes heavily. "Your godfather won't leave you alone on this."
_________
"It was an accident, Lily," Sirius tells her, his hand playing with the hair over his chin. His new grown hair beard reaches his chest and Sirius is almost finishing a braid by now. "I was trying some old potion, and then Harry was close and it just splashed in both of us."
Lily lifts her eyebrows, her eyes moving from Sirius to Harry and then back.
"An accident?" she repeats, incredulous.
"I am so sorry," he says, the portrait of innocence. "Could you help us with an antidote? And before you say anything, I know I shouldn't have tested an unknown potion. But do this for Harry, not for me. Poor kid doesn't deserve to spend the night hiding. It's a New Year's party after all!"
Lily shakes her head, amused.
"Fine, because you asked so eloquently. I will grab my potion kit, a hair inhibitor should be enough."
"You truly are the best, Lily," Sirius tells her, beaming.
Harry waits until his mother is out of the room to let out a relieved breath.
"Thanks so much, Sirius," he says.
Sirius nods, still messing with the hair on his chin. It's so weird and it looks as ghastly in him as it does on Harry.
He doesn't regret applying that potion to his face. His sacrifice worked just as he planned to: with two people having hair growing out of their chins, the attention was divided and with Sirius taking the blame, people felt sorry enough for Harry to not mock him much.
"Hey," they turn around to see Ginny coming closer, holding a tray with some sandwiches for them. "Mum thought you would be hungry while hiding here."
"Thanks," Sirius says, because Harry seems too busy pretending to look outside the window, anything so he can try to avoid Ginny looking at his beard.
Ginny nods at Sirius, but she approaches Harry anyway.
"Your mum is already working on the antidote, don't worry," she tells him gently. "Look, it's not as bad as that time Percy tried to grow a moustache, remember?"
Harry chuckles. "You are so lying."
"I would never," she assures him, voice light. "Look at me."
Harry turns to her almost as if he can't control it. His eyes soften as he gazes upon her, and Sirius is suddenly reminded of how Lily always looks when she sees James.
Ginny raises her hand slowly, giving Harry plenty of time to back away, but he just stays quiet as she touches his beard, her fingers running through it. Sirius suspects Harry isn't even breathing anymore.
"It's soft," she tells Harry and for a moment they just stare at each other. Sirius decides that he is really witnessing a moment that he doesn't want to, but his attempt to quietly leave the room only alerts them to his presence. Ginny's hand falls back as if she got electrocuted. "Anyway, you look better without it."
Harry grimaces. "I guess that stupid stubble is better than this."
"Stupid stubble?" Ginny blinks, evidently surprised. "It's not stupid, I… I mean, girls love it on you."
"They do?"
"Yeah, well, just thinking about your stubble brushing my skin—I mean, their skin, as in other girls' shoulders, or holding your face while… never mind, I just… I just heard it, that's all. You are drawing a lot of attention."
"I know, all this Chosen One stupid thing—"
"It's not it... you are really oblivious to your charm, Harry."
"You think I am charming?" Harry asks, longing evident in his voice now.
"I…" Ginny hesitates, turning away as if she doesn't want to answer this while looking at Harry, and her eyes meet Sirius. He smirks at her, knowing perfectly well her answer. Ginny's face reddens even as her jaw sets in a protective instance. "Yeah, with the stubble. Everyone knows it. It's common knowledge. I… I have to go, I think I heard Mum calling me."
Sirius could point out that Molly didn't call her at all, but he opts for just letting Ginny go, his smirk more than enough to let her know she didn't fool him.
At the other corner of the room, Harry's face is spotting a huge grin, watching the door with a dreamy expression.
"She likes my stubble!" He declares happily. "Oh, I need to take off this stupid long beard now."
Sirius shakes his head at Harry, amused. At least Harry won't ever complain about his inability to grow a beard again.
#Eyes glistening#Jily lives AU#Sirius being a good godfather#Harry having teenage issues#i will edit it better in the morning
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right so, remember this post?
so i actually wrote this fic about 8 days ago, uploaded it too early, changed the 'published' date to five days ago and then forgot to post about it on tumblr... @laurenmariemaybefics
A (aka what ginny weasley smells in the amortentia potion)
ao3 link
“Sixth years, gather round, gather round.” Slughorn’s voice echoed around the dungeon. “I thought I’d start with the same potion as last year. Unfortunately, there is no Felix Felicis to be won this year as the headmaster has restricted the potions I can teach this year. However, this potion in front of me is not on that list.”
Ginny glanced around. No one looked particularly pleased with the class. Even the few amount of the Slytherin classmates didn’t look particularly pleased, either.
“Now students,” Slughorn continued. “I’m sure that this year may be different for what you hoped for. But the best thing we can all do is to focus on our studies. So, can anyone tell me what this potion is called?”
“A love potion?” A Slytherin student called out, causing the Slytherin crew to fall into a fit of giggles.
“Very good. But what is the scientific name. Anyone? Miss Weasley?”
Ginny’s ears perked up. She almost wondered if Slughorn was going to say something about Harry being a perfect student last year. In fact, she was pretty sure that most of the staff were aware that they had sneaked around the castle and often walked the other one to class after making the other one late. Slughorn wouldn’t be an expectation. She gulped. Or was he going to mention the fact that Ron nearly died after taking it - which was no fault of the potion. Or maybe he was referring to the fact that her brothers had this potion in their store. It had been a constant sell-out.
“Yes,” Ginny swallowed. “It’s called Amortentia.”
“Amortentia. And what else can you tell us about it, Miss Weasley?”
“Well, it has a different sent for everyone. It reflects what that person’s favourite smells are. But it never leads to real love. The person under the influence of the potion grows a sort of obsession for the person that administrated it…”
“Yes. Miss Weasley is correct, everyone. It can never lead to a real love. Miss Weasley, what do you smell?”
“What do I what?” Ginny looked in panic towards Luna who gave her a small smile that didn’t quite reach the eyes. “Professor, I don’t want to share.”
“Okay, well. I smell Turkish delight, sea air and parchment. Let's get to work, turn to page 278.”
Ginny made her way to her desk and sits in science for a while. She could hear that Luna was trying to get her attention and offering to help. But all she could think about was the day-before-shaving rough stubble that she felt against her lips earlier in the summer. The feel of his freshly shaved check nuzzled into her neck the summer term before. She drew a fresh piece of parchment out of her bag and dipped her quill in ink. She held the quill over the parchment and let a drop of ink fall.
Broom polish, the meadow behind the borrow and the faintest smell of his aftershave filled her senses.
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Troubling Nights
Today, we have an underrated friendship for you all to enjoy. A lovely missing moment between Hermione & Ginny, featuring everyone’s favourite kneazle-cat by @ncoincidences. Read it on AO3 here!
Username: coincidences
Pairing: none - platonic Ginny Weasley & Hermione Granger
Summary: Ginny finds a certain witch frazzled and stressed by schoolwork late at night in the common room and makes a new friend.
Warnings: none
Ginny shudders as she wakes, the images behind her eyelids slowly withering away—creepers with inky leaves gnawing at her, snakes with swaying heads and stony bodies. Twisted nightmares. She bunches white sheets in her fists. Another dementor-dark nightmare, and now, another lonely and endless night for her to bear. She plants her feet on the cold floor of her dorm and shivers again, quickly getting off the bed and slipping into the nearest pair of worn socks.
It’s cold. A starry sky is visible through the dorm windows and a half-moon whose light falls over Hogwarts. Ginny looks over the silent sprawling courtyards, edged with flitting shadows of dementors. Quenching her thirst with gulps of warm water and huddling her robe to her chest, she pads down to the common room, which feels more of a safe place than her dorm.
The fireplace at the centre is lit, its fire dimmed somewhat, and the clock in the common room says it’s one and a half hours past midnight. It’s just Ginny’s luck, waking up hours before breakfast and finding herself with nothing to do, but no desire to go back to sleep. Time at night passes all too slowly.
She takes a seat near the fire. On the rug is an orange, grumpy-faced cat. Crookshanks eyes her warily before moving towards her. Ginny reaches down and he lets her pull him up with a meow. His fur is warm and soft, his weight comfortable on her lap.
She pets him. He purrs.
“He likes you,” says a quiet voice that makes Ginny jump. At the other end of a maroon couch is Hermione, pale-faced and dishevelled. How had Ginny not seen her?
“He’s nice,” says Ginny, eyeing the quills and books strewn around her.
Hermione nods, her mouth pulling into a small frown. Ginny can practically hear what she is thinking; but your brother doesn’t think so…
“Ron’s an idiot,” she says, feeling an urge to cheer Hermione up, surprising both herself and Hermione. “Scabbers was an old rat, he would’ve died soon anyway.”
Hermione humphs, before a tired yawn stumbles out of her. “What’s the time?”
Ginny tells her.
Hermione startles. “Oh, that’s too late!” She starts to shuffle through bundles of parchments, inked with neat handwriting, frenzied. “I was trying to complete my runes derivation of an equation from Luten’s postulates and I had only meant to close my eyes for a moment, but I guess I fell asleep… I woke up just now when I heard you… Oh, now I’d have to start over—I’ll never be able to finish it!”
Ginny blinks at her as she panics.
“—and I also have an extra credit essay for Professor McGonagall, not to mention the research I wanted to do in Charms for next week’s assignment… wait, is it the 13th today? I had to complete the chart for Astronomy within this week—”
“Don’t you think you should get some rest instead?” Ginny quietly cuts Hermione off.
“Rest?” Hermione says dazedly, as if the thought itself is absurd.
Ginny flushes and pets Crookshanks’ ginger fur. “That sounds like a lot of work and you— you look stressed out… I don’t think you could complete all of that before morning. Could you? You already look as if you’re about to drop any second, no offence. When’s the last time you properly slept?”
“I…” Hermione’s at a loss for words, before she says, “I did sleep in the morning, just today.”
“…you mean yesterday morning, right…?”
“Oh. Right.”
“I don’t think it counts, then. I’m sure you have tons of things to do, but you’re no use to anyone if you’re tired and weak,” Ginny says bluntly, knowing it firsthand from experience. Then, to really make her point, she adds, “You won’t be able to focus in class if you’re stumbling around half-asleep.”
“Alright,” Hermione says weakly, and begins to pack her things. “It’s just… my mind thinks so much when I want to sleep—and I still have incomplete assignments…” Her lip trembles and she looks like she’s about to take out her books and parchments out of her bag and start studying again.
“You could do them tomorrow, couldn’t you?” Ginny says gently.
“No, I wouldn’t have time to study and prepare for the next class and revise my notes, then.”
Ginny stares at her. “You… why would you need to do that?”
Hermione stares back, just as flummoxed. “Why—? To get good marks! I don’t want to fail or fall behind!”
“But you’re already way ahead, aren’t you?” Ginny asks her. “Surely one day won’t change anything.”
“Oh, it will!”
Ginny releases a frustrated breath. “Well, it’ll be worse if you start sleeping in class!”
Hermione looks horrified even at the possibility, her eyes turning wider than a Remembrall. “That won’t…” she protests weakly and rubs her forehead, her eyes scrunching.
“Or… you could possibly answer the wrong questions—or wrongly answer the right ones,” Ginny says. “Or jumble up the spell syllables, or the wand movements…” she adds in hopes of persuading Hermione to sleep, as she’s clearly in need of it—just as much as Ginny is.
Unlike Ginny, however, she has the benefit of successfully falling into peaceful slumber.
“Oh… alright!” Hermione relents.
When Hermione has zipped her bag and packed her things, she looks up at Ginny and says, “What about you? Aren’t you going to sleep?”
Ginny looks down at Crookshanks, suddenly uncomfortable, ears turning warm. “I—I had—I couldn’t sleep,” she lies, scratching the fur behind his ears. She bites her tongue as she recalls the intensity of her nightmare.
“Oh, I see,” Hermione says quietly, and when Ginny looks up she has a thoughtful look on her face.
“It’s okay,” Ginny says, not wanting her to guess the real reason. She presses down the urge to shift on the armchair under Hermione’s gaze. “I’m used to it.”
Hermione nods slowly. The fire in the fireplace crackles softly in the silence. “I understand, though. I… in the summer after my first year I had trouble sleeping too, after everything that happened with Quirrell.”
Ginny looks up at Hermione from Crookshanks’ ginger fur, and it’s as if she’s seeing her in a completely new light. She had not known that.
“So, if you want to talk about it…” Hermione offers, finishing with an awkward shrug of her shoulders.
Ginny feels surprised. She hasn’t made many friends at Hogwarts. Back at home, her parents had talked late into the night about her nightmares and given her many ways to deal with it. Around the end of summer, the difficult nights had subdued, helped by the comforting presence of her big family and their vacation to sunny Egypt.
It’s the nauseating presence of dementors around Hogwarts that has worsened it, and she lately finds herself plagued by inky monsters and rooster crowing and bloody feathers; reliving the awful realisation of having gaps in her memory and doubting herself more than once daily.
“I dunno,” she says awkwardly, tugging at her robe sleeves. “It’s okay, like I said… I’m used to it by now.”
Ginny also has a journal she often writes her dreams and events of the day into, as a means of comfort when the doubts enter, but tonight she isn’t feeling the inspiration to write, and her dream had been too vague and unsettling anyway.
“Oh, but you shouldn’t be!” Hermione exclaims and Ginny sees her eyes glimmer, her face turning shadowed, into something sad. Hermione shoulders off her bag and walks to Ginny’s armchair, arms extended awkwardly. “Could I give you a hug?”
“Um,” is all she says before Hermione pulls her up into a warm embrace and her thin arms wind around her tight. It’s so soft—comfortable. Ginny’s chest tightens. She feels both like she’s flying and being anchored down, grounded by the comfort of this friendly warmth. It’s a bit like her mum’s hugs, which she’s been missing lately (and her brothers don’t compensate enough) and her eyes close. She relaxes, abandoning her stiff posture and returning Hermione’s embrace, the beast in her soothed. She lets out a small sigh.
“Are you okay?” Hermione asks her after they break away.
Ginny’s vision is slightly blurry. It’s just from a strand of Hermione’s hair that had accidentally entered her eyes… “Yeah,” she says wetly, “Yeah, thank you.”
“No problem.” Hermione smiles, and hands Ginny a tissue.
Ginny sniffs and blows her nose as quietly as she can. She feels better. Who knew Hermione could give such warm hugs? She smiles back.
“Let’s head back to the dorms,” Hermione says, after a few moments of quiet. The fire in the fireplace has begun to diminish, its crackles softening.
“Okay,” she says reluctantly and stands up.
Standing in front of the door of her dorm, Ginny feels hesitant to enter and let go of Crookshanks, who had jumped into her arms. It’s lonely inside. “Goodbye, then,” she says to Hermione in a quiet voice.
Hermione looks at her. “You know… how about you sleep in my dorm tonight?” Ginny stares. “I think having company would help you sleep…” She adds, “I think you’re small enough to fit in my bed anyway.”
Ginny shoves Hermione lightly. “I’m not that small.”
“I said ‘small enough’,” Hermione says, with a teasing edge to her smile. “So, what do you think?”
It’s very kind of you, Ginny thinks.
“Alright,” she says, petting Crookshanks, and Hermione’s face brightens.
“It’s a bit like a sleepover, isn’t it? I’ve never had one before,” Hermione muses as they take the next flight of stairs, “Have you?”
“I don’t think so,” Ginny says with a shrug, “Unless you count staying up late with my brothers? I was always too young and fell asleep before all the fun, so I can’t say I have.”
“Lavender had the Patil twins over in the summer; she was telling us all about it at the start of the term. They made each other’s nails and hair and watched movies and played games. It sounded fun.” They reach Hermione’s dorm. “Obviously, we won’t be able to do all that.”
“Yeah,” says Ginny, “Some other time, maybe.”
Hermione smiles. “Yeah.”
They tiptoe to Hermione’s bed—which is neatly made—and draw the curtains. Ginny lets Crookshanks curl into the small bed Hermione and Ron made out of cotton in a cardboard box (Hermione tells her). Then, after Hermione’s changed and unclipped her hair, it takes them a while to settle comfortably into her bed. Hermione’s pointy elbows and her strands of hair that stray near Ginny’s face and tickle her skin don’t bother Ginny. She flicks her own shoulder-length hair back on the pillow and stares up at the proud lion painted on the ceiling. A warm hand slides into hers. She smiles lazily.
Beside her, Hermione turns quiet and still.
“Hermione?” Ginny whispers.
A snore comes in reply.
Ginny snorts softly. So much for not needing to sleep. A little while later, her eyes begin to droop too and her mouth splits open into a yawn soon after. She turns on her side, facing Hermione, and thinks about their earlier conversation. She doesn’t think she’s been this close to a girl before, or hugged one properly like they just did, and she wonders if that makes them friends now.
She wouldn’t mind a friend like Hermione.
A soft whisper before she sleeps, “Thank you.”
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YOU DRIVE ME MAD
Summary: Fred's and Y/n's silly rivalry may have more to do with love than with hate; after a fatal incident, some confessions are made.
Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader
Genre: angst-fluff
Tags:
Fred Weasley: @whiskeyn-rain @lumos-solemn
Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa
Warnings: brief mention of violence, blood, language (this seems a lot darker than it is lmao)
A/N: idk man I just love this idiot so here it comes another oneshot. The reader's house is not specified btw. Enjoy <3
Rogue-durin-16 masterlist
Fred spotted me and walked to stand near me before asking jokingly "On your way to kill a man, Y/n?" Oh, little did he know.
"what is that?!" I exclaimed at the sight of my friend's bruised arm.
"uhm... Nothing."
"who did that to you?" I knew the answer before I even got it. My friend had gone to break up with that Cormac McLaggen the previous night; she had finally listened to us and ended that toxic relationship they had, but apparently she got a souvenir from it.
"It's fine- he didn't mean to- Y/n don't do anything stupid." Too late, I saw red.
"I don't have time for your bullshit, Weasley." I curtly replied bumping his shoulder while I walked past him, making his smile drop in confusion. I never missed the opportunity to start a playful argument with him, but, as I had said, I didn't have time for that.
With the corner of my eye, I saw him joining my friends in the task of trailing after me.
I spotted the bastard chatting with his friends in the middle of the hallway that led to the Great Hall. "Oi, McLaggen!"
"Evening, Y/l/n." That filthy grin vanished from his face when I kicked him in the balls, triggering some gasps from our peers and a grunt of pain from him.
"Listen carefully, you loathsome pig." I leaned over to be eye to eye with him. "If you dare to lay a finger on my friend again— if you even think about it— I'll become your personal nightmare." I stood upright again, his eyes full of hate and rage following my movements. "You don't deserve a bloody warning, but I'm a generous woman." Poison dripped off my tongue, my eyes throwing daggers at him as I stepped back and turned around.
My eyes met Fred's worried ones while I made my way to my friends; they surely had told him enough for the ginger to know this was no time for joking and teasing.
His gaze then flickered behind me with panic and I realized a tad too late I shouldn't have turned my back to McLaggen; at the end of the day, pride overpowered honour in a lot of Gryffindors.
I spun around, grabbing my wand from my pocket, but I wasn't fast enough; before I knew what was happening, Fred was in front of me, serving as a human shield from the jinx.
The unknown spell hit his back and propelled us in my friends' direction. I was quickly on my knees, sitting Fred up and earning a grunt in the process, which I initially thought was caused by the fall. "Are you mental?!" My friend casted an Expelliarmus at the younger Gryffindor, long forgotten due to Fred's actions.
"My back— AH!" He yelped when I tried to pull him up.
"OI!" A first year who had made his way to the first row of students frantically gestured at Fred's back. "He's bleeding!!"
"What?!" I made him lean on me to take a look at his white shirt, now stained with blood. What I thought to be a harmless jinx turned out to be fatal.
"He's not supposed to be bleeding!" Cormac shouted, as panicked as I was.
One of my friends said something about going to look for George while the others shoot off to look for Madam Pomfrey.
"I'm gonna kill him..." Fred mumbled through gritted teeth, his voice shaky and weak. He felt so fragile in my arms, and I couldn't help the tears stinging my eyes.
"Fred—" his hands, which had been gripping my forearms, lost strength as the boy's body relaxed. "For fuck's sake don't fall asleep."
"... 'm trying..."
"FREDDIE!" His twin brother rushed to us, falling on his knees by his brother's side.
"I'm sorry." McLaggen had walked to us, keeping a safe distance.
"YOU'RE DEAD MCLAGGEN!" George stood up before I could stop him. Luckily for everyone, Madam Pomfrey showed up.
"Oh Lord! Mister Weasley, quick! Help me with your brother!" The Healer commanded, and soon they were pulling Fred off my grasp and rushing to the infirmary.
I was left in the middle of the hallway with my friends showering me with worried questions and reassurance.
What the fuck had just happened?
~~~~~~~~~~~~
During dinner, several girls and a couple of boys came to congratulate me for kicking McLaggen's balls, and it would have been a lot more satisfactory if Fred Weasley hadn't stepped in the middle.
As soon as I finished my meal, I headed to the infirmary through the now quiet halls, only to find there were too many people visiting.
Of course, George was there, along with their younger siblings and Lee Jordan, but in front of them stood Professor Flitwick, Professor McGonagall and none other than Cormac McLaggen himself.
"—already told you it wasn't for you!"
"How is that an apology, Mister McLaggen?" McGonagall scolded him, refraining herself from hitting the boy herself.
"You better fucking run, McLaggen, because the moment I can step out of this bed I swear on Godric I will—"
"Enough, Mister Weasley!" I almost pitied the poor woman. Her House was probably the most problematic. "All of you must go to your dormitories, Mister Weasley needs to rest." I stood on the entrance of the room, unsure of whether I should leave or enter, until Flitwick's eyes landed on my form. He redirected McGonagall's attention to me, and I felt the need of shying away. "Miss Y/l/n," I didn't miss the failed attempt of Fred to move; luckily, he was stopped by his sister. "I suppose you wanted to pay a visit?"
"Uhm... I did, Professor." I confessed, fidgeting with the sleeves of my robe. "I know it's late—"
"Don't take too long." She spoke, motioning everyone to follow her. "Curfew is still at 10." She reminded me in a warning tone, passing by.
As soon as they were out, I made my way to Fred, who lay on his stomach in one of the beds, the sheets only covering his legs an hips in order to avoid the clothing chaffing his damaged skin.
"You have a heart after all, huh?" He teased once I stood in front of him.
"How are you?" He frowned at my genuine question; the ginger surely expected me to make a witty comeback, but again, it didn't seem the time.
"A tad better." He gave me a reassuring half smile, deciding to drop our banter for a night. "Flitwick said he used a stinging jinx but casted it wrong." Fred huffed. "A bloody tosser."
He motioned at the chair behind me and I sat down, scooting closer to the bed. I still couldn't wrap my head around the fact that he had jumped in front of me. It had hit his back, but I knew it was meant to hit my face —what a mess that would have been—, and I couldn't help but feel a bit guilty.
"Stop that."
"Stop what?"
"It's not on you." I felt my face flaring up at the ease with which he saw through me. I wasn't the first time he did that, but it was the first time he didn't use it to tease me.
"I know, I just—" I sighed. "I don't know." Though my sight was casted down, I still felt his worried gaze on me. "I'm gonna murder him."
"I reckon George will overtake us both on that." He tried to laugh but ended up in a since instead. "Or Gin. Maybe they'll team up with Ron and we'll find a corpse in the Gryffindor common room tomorrow." This time it was me who laughed. "How's your friend?"
"She'll be alright." I informed, distracting myself with a loose string at the hem of my skirt.
"And you?" I met his eyes with a hum leaving my mouth. "How are you?"
"Been better." I confessed.
Silence.
"Can you pass me the water?" I nodded, holding the glass in front of him and putting the straw in his mouth so he could take a couple of sips. "Thanks."
"No worries."
Silence again.
"Did you eat something?"
He scrunched his nose. "Not really."
"I'll go grab something from the kitchens." I didn't get far before his long fingers wrapped around my wrist.
"I'd rather have you here keeping my company." I then sat down again, his fingers only leaving my wrist to intertwin with mines. "I'm not hungry anyway."
More silence.
"Your hand is really soft." I reckon those words involuntarily escaped his lips by the way his eyes widened. "I don't know why I said that."
"Yours is too, surprisingly."
"Surprisingly?" He quirked an eyebrow at me, and I didn't quite realise what his grin was about until I spoke again.
"I imagined they'd be more rough." Oh no. "That came out wrong— I meant—"
"That you've imagined what my hands would feel like?" He was trying to bite back a laugh at the way my face turned red.
"No!"
"You sure?"
"Positive."
"Liar."
There we went again; the white flag was out.
"Fuck you."
"Please." My cheeks turned even redder, and I wanted to think it was because of the anger. "You look really cute when you blush."
"You look really cute when you keep your mouth shut."
"Then shut me, love." He wiggled his brows at me.
"I would, but I don't wanna punch you in this state."
"You're very agressive." He pointed out, shocked that I didn't get what he was implying. "I meant with a kiss."
"Ew-" I pretended to gag. "no!"
He tugged on my hand and pulled me to my knees falling right in front of his eyes with our faces inches away. "C'mon Y/l/n, we're dragging this on now." His eyes kept falling on my mouth after I had unconsciously chewed on my lower lip.
"We're... We're not dragging on anything." I wasn't sure if I was trying to convince him or myself.
"Do you want me to start? Alright, you drive me mad." He forced his gaze to be fixed on mine. "You're annoying, rude and a pain in the arse." I huffed. "But you're also quick-witted and caring and brave." Gosh I hated how easily he made me blush. "Sometimes I want to punch you in that pretty face of yours but other times— most of the times— all I wanna do is kiss you." His thumb caressed the back of my hand. "Hell, I threw myself between you and that blonker without thinking twice!"
He raised his eyebrows, silently prompting me to say something, but I just didn't know what to say.
"Miss Y/l/n," Madam Pomfrey called, making me let go of Fred's hand an stood up. "It's almost ten o'clock! Let Mister Weasley rest." I nodded, not even looking in Fred's direction as I exited the infirmary.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
FRED'S P. O. V.
The morning after the incident, Dean and Neville dragged in an unrecognisable McLaggen; they were probably the only ones who cared about that bloke enough to take him to Madam Pomfrey, though they did it half-heartedly.
I was discharged after three days in, right before lunch, and obviously, I was received as a hero; several people came to praise my bravery or ask how I was feeling, but I just wanted to see one person.
That night in the infirmary I was sure she felt the same way —hell, I had been sure for a couple of months— but after seeing her reaction, I didn't really know anymore.
I could always tell her it was a prank, and we would go back to our usual bickering. "Weasley!" Shit. "Fred!" She specified when the four of us turned at the call of our surname, almost jogging in my direction. "Can we talk?"
"Go ahead, darling." I prompted her without moving from my seat.
"In private?"
"Nah," I begged Godric for her not to see behind my grin the panic that produced me the mere thought of being left alone with her.
"Are you joking?" She huffed and, after taking a deep breath, she spoke. I wasn't expecting her to speak. "So you see, you're cheeky and stupid and not nearly as funny as you think." Ginny spit her pumpkin juice due to Y/n's harsh words. "but I... ugh! Okay— I want to kiss you too."
This time it was Ron who choked on his drink. "What's going on?"
"I feel like we missed an important part of this conversation." George commented.
This time it was Y/n who awaited for an answer. "This is literally the most embarrassing thing ever, so at least say something." She commanded in a rather rude tone, tapping her shoe against the floor.
I winced ever so slightly at the effort of getting up, but it was worth it when I saw her expression as I towered her; I reckon I had never seen her that sheepish before.
"That's a really mean way of saying you're attracted to me." I observed, quirking a brow at her. "Dunno why I fancy you so much."
"Well that makes the two of us." I couldn't help but chuckle at her attitude before cupping her cheeks and bring her lips to mine.
Finally.
Despite being a short, innocent kiss, was enough to make us both blush and grin like idiots.
"Awww" I rolled my eyes at my twin's mockery, knowing damn well I wouldn't hear the end of it.
"Why do I feel like I'm gonna miss you two being at each other's throat?" I couldn't care less about Ron's question as Y/n pulled me down for another kiss.
Almost bleeding to death seemed worth it in that moment.
#fred weasley x reader#harry potter fanfiction#fred weasley#fred weasley x y/n#harry potter#fred weasley imagine#fred weasley x slytherin!reader#fred weasly x reader#gred and forge#fred wealsey fic#fred weasley x you#fred weasley x hufflepuff!reader#fred weasley x gryffindor!reader#fred weasley fanfics#fred weasley fluff#fred Weasley hurt comfort#fred x you#fred x slytherin reader#fred weasley au
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