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#Hermione doesn't know what to do with him anymore
sitp-recs · 14 hours
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hi! please feel free to delete this! but i read through your rec list (and found some amazing fics, ty!!) but i was wondering if you had any recs for fics where harry is helped by draco after the war? like he’s struggling with PTSD and being a public figure and going through it emotionally and draco takes care of him and helps him and they become closer for it and harry learns he doesn’t always have to be this Savior he can just be Harry with Draco! thank you in advance and sorry to bother you!
Not a bother at all, anon! I definitely have some recs for you. Some are set in the immediate post-war, some are set years later but they all explore Harry struggling with war/childhood trauma, fame, loneliness and the unbearable weight of having to find your way when no one else is telling you what to do anymore. Such a relatable feeling tbh. I hope you enjoy these!
Unseen by astolat (M, 11k)
When he wasn’t wearing it, he got jumpy, always waiting for someone to come at him wanting something—and now they did it even more urgently, if they ever saw him, because most of the time, nobody did.
Holly and Hawthorn, Thistle and Thyme by bryoneybrynn (T, 31k)
After the war, Harry can’t shake the feeling that something is very wrong with him and he has a terrible feeling he knows what that “something” might be. He has a terrible feeling Malfoy might know, too.
Expecto Patronum by @writcraft (E, 35k)
As Draco Malfoy negotiates his feelings for the wizarding world's brightest star, he becomes increasingly attached to Harry and unravels the secrets he keeps hidden from the rest of the world.
(Un)wanted by @aibidil (E, 36k)
Ginny's pregnant, then she's not and Harry's single. Harry, again with no family, doesn't know what to do with this turn of events, or how to find a new life—post-war, post-Ginny, post-abortion—in which he belongs. He doesn't expect that life to include dancing to the Backstreet Boys with Hermione and Draco Malfoy. A story of finding belonging in the unexpected.
He Who Must Not Be Normal by lettered (E, 41k)
Potter has fame and fortune and posh clothes and all he wants is a simple life. Draco has a flat and a cat and a steady job and all he wants is a complicated life. Which makes you think this story has something exciting like body-swapping, but it doesn’t.
Unseen by RenVeree (T, 47k)
Harry Potter finally has the chance to leave England and its expectations for The Chosen One behind for good. All he has to do is survive one Auror training conference overseas with Draco Sodding Malfoy.
Modern Love by @tackytigerfic (E, 61k)
Harry Potter, of all people, knows that life isn’t always fair. And no one gets to be happy all of the time. But surely there’s something more—something better—than a rubbish Ministry job, and a lonely old house, and that feeling that everyone out there is doing a better job of living than Harry is.
The Way Down by lettered (T, 65k)
Harry is overwhelmed by his own power and fame and angst, so he's become a hermit. Draco Malfoy is tired of the melodrama.
Harry Potter and the elusive day off by pleasebekidding (E, 71k)
Auror Potter needs a fucking break. He is wiped. He is exhausted. He probably didn't intend to put himself into a magical coma but these things happen. And who cares, really? He is comfortable in a house where he has hidden away all the shit he can't deal with.
I Am Not Who I Became by mab_di (E, 93k)
Draco left England after the trials and has travelled the world meeting wizards and Muggles from different cultures and with vastly different relationships to magic, each other, and the natural world. Now he's a fisherman in Finland on commercial vessels. Harry has been struggling since the war and has become a recluse while trying to write his autobiography.
Who we are in the shadows by @quicksilvermaid (E, 100k)
What happens when you’re forced to become the very thing you despise? Ex-Auror Harry Potter, tossed out of the Ministry for something he had no control over, has been looking for a way back to his former life. When he comes across Draco Malfoy in the criminal underbelly of Wizarding London and in need of protection, Harry figures bringing him in to face the Ministry's justice is his ticket back to everything he's lost.
A Sword Laid Aside by korlaena (E, 128k)
When Draco’s cover is blown during a deep undercover operation and the Ministry is compromised, Ron takes Draco to the only safe place he can think of—Potter. Hiding out with a taciturn Harry Potter, who has been missing from the Wizarding World for almost two decades after a shocking fall from grace, is nothing like Draco thought it would be
By the Grace by lettered (T, 140k)
Harry is an Auror instructor. Malfoy wants to be an Auror.
where all the veins meet by @saxamophone (E, 146k)
It's the summer of 1998. The battle is over, and Voldemort is dead, but Harry still has more questions than answers. Who is he without a piece of Voldemort's soul in his head? What is he supposed to do now?
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demaparbat-hp · 1 year
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This is what happens when you want to celebrate your best friend's birthday... And he doesn't.
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weasleyreidstyles · 16 days
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Serendipity
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chapter seventeen
summary: it was only meant to be a purely transactional relationship. he would help her strengthen her abilities in return for her getting his friends out of his father's nasty path. he didn't mean to fall for her, but loving her was the easiest thing in his dark world.
no use of y/n, but your general nickname is Meadow. all characters are aged up to be over 18.
pairings: mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw reader; platonic!slytherins x fem!reader; platonic!golden trio x fem!reader
warning(s): mentions of death (its a funeral), some fluff but it's mainly angst
series masterlist; previous part; next part
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In the week following Dumbledore's death, the school had emptied out almost immediately – students were leaving via the Hogwarts Express almost daily and some parents would even apparate into Hogsmeade and meet their children at the gate to escort them home themselves.
No one trusted that Hogwarts was safe for their children anymore. Nowhere was truly safe. Not without the safety that Albus Dumbledore had always provided.
The hallways were desolate by the time two weeks had passed.
Your parents had met you and Hermione at the gates to the castle on they day of Dumbledore's funeral, pulling you both into tight hugs; unwilling to let you go. Molly Weasley had praised your efforts of saving her eldest son from Greyback, not taking into account how worried your parents would become upon not knowing if you were truly alright. Your father, a healer working at St Mungo's had demanded to know whether you should still be in the Hospital Wing recovering, but you'd assured him, and your mother, that you were only left with a few ugly scars.
Scars that you abhorred, but there was nothing you could do about the way they littered the skin of your abdomen. Mattheo had done his best to rid you of those insecurities, pressing lingering kisses to the marred skin whenever the opportunity arose. But the feelings still lingered when you examined the jagged silver lines in your bathroom mirror and in your nightmares where you don't save Bill, but end up worse off.
Hermione too, had assured your parents that she had come out of the battle virtually unscathed after they had turned to her with the same brutal enthusiasm for her safety. But the worry was still apparent in their eyes. You doubted that it would disappear any time soon. Not now that they are in the Order, and know just what you've been up to this year.
A few days after the battle, Hermione and Ron had found you while you sat in the library, enjoying a moment of solitude. They'd sat in the two seats opposite you and were looking at you with nervous expressions on their faces.
"Where's Harry?" you ask without looking up from your book. He was noticeably absent, probably grieving in his own way. Ron coughs awkwardly as Hermione shuffles in her seat.
"He doesn't know we're here, but we need your insight on something." she says and you finally look up at them, both as weathered by the battle as you are, dark circles stain their eyes just as badly as they do on your own face.
"What do you need?" You ask, voice quiet, so you don't draw any unnecessary attention. Ron reaches into his pocket and pulls out a crumpled piece of parchment, which looks old and worn.
"Can you read this, and tell us what you think?" he asks as he places it on the table infront of you.
Hesitantly, you unfold the intricate little thing which reveals the neatest scroll of penmanship you'd ever seen.
To the Dark Lord, I know I will be dead long before you read this, but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more – R.A.B
"What the hell does this mean?" You ask, looking up at them with the same confusion mirrored in their eyes. You give Hermione a look and she nods imperceptibly, prompting you to see into her recent memories. You look at them with wide eyes. "The horcrux was a fake?"
"And whoever this R.A.B person is, has the real one." Hermione mumbles with a nod. Ron looks between the two of you before shaking his head and taking the note to examine it for the thousandth time.
You sit back in your seat, disbelief marring your features. Had Dumbledore died for nothing?
~∞~
The actual funeral service was a long, arduous process. But it was truly beautiful, despite the reason for such a large gathering.
The sun shined brightly, even as it began its slow descent in the sky, sending ripples of dazzling sunlight across the surface of the lake, and it was so warm. Warm enough that you had to wear a sundress that had been stuffed right at the bottom of your trunk since you'd returned to school after the Christmas holidays.
It was held on the school grounds, near the Whomping Willow, surrounded by the cascading violet of the wisteria trees that surrounded the banks of the Black Lake, resembling an almost life-like watercolour painting from where you were sat. It seemed that every entity on the grounds, from the people to the flora and fauna, had felt the impact of Dumbledore's death and mourned it on that balmy June evening. Some of the plants were dull where they used to be vibrant; even the birds weren't singing as joyfully.
The atmosphere surrounding the crowd was taut, ripe with with the whispers of conversations that drifted across the assortment of seating like a strange, lulling birdsong. The attendees varied from young students to old scholars, most of which you don't recognise. But you can see members of The Order dotted about the rows sporadically, eying certain rows and glancing conspiratorially between eachother; you understand why when you see Delores Umbridge (and Cornelius Fudge) waltz up the centre aisle into one of the rows near where other Ministry officials, including Rufus Scrimgeour sat, dressed in a vibrant fuchsia pink cloak, a 'grieving' expression painted on her ugly face. They're followed closely by Rita Skeeter, her enchanted pen and pad at hand. The Order members around their row are tense and alert.
You took a seat closer the back of the crowd, beside your parents, dressed in a deep green sundress with embroidered vines of the deepest sepia winding up the skirt in intricate patterns with little bluebells climbing up the stems, to combat the stifling heat of summer, and your wand is tucked into a thin, onyx holster on your waist.
Ron had clearly forgiven you to some extent, evident in the way he'd willingly sought you out in the library over a week ago, but he was still wary of the Slytherins you surrounded yourself with; Harry seemed content with bypassing your existence entirely. It was probably wise to sit further away from them, especially because it was obvious that Harry blamed your friends for Dumbledore's death. You can see the back of Ginny's head, where she's sat with the Golden Trio about five rows ahead of you. Even from where you are, you can see how she grips onto Harry's hand for dear life.
You can even feel Mattheo's eyes on you from his seat at the very back of the procession.
Can feel the way his magic calls to your's.
He's sat with Pansy to his left, Theo to his right and Enzo and Blaise are beside them.
Draco is nowhere to be seen.
The five of them have received a multitude of looks from those surrounding them, and you would be stupid not to see the amount of Aurors and Order members who had ended up seated near them.
Just thinking about the fact that they were surrounded as if they were a guild of threatening wizards, when they were still students at this very school, made your blood boil.
They still were not trusted, despite Remus vouching for them personally. Only a few members: the twins, Andromeda Tonks and her husband, Ted, seemed to acknowledge the risk that your friends were taking by just being at the school. Even your own parents were wary. Especially now. Voldemort was actively gathering more support and wreaking havoc across the country – wizard and muggle world alike.
Despite all the eyes on him, Mattheo appears to be surprisingly relaxed. But that's only because you are in his eye line. Dressed in a pretty sundress, with your hair cascading down your back and shoulders in delightful curls that he has the urge to tug on. Only you and his friends know just how tense he truly was, surrounded by people he didn't trust; people who didn't trust him.
You look lovely. You smile at the warmth in his voice, body thrumming with the heat of his gaze from a few rows behind you. Discreetly, so you don't attract your parents' attention, you turn to face Mattheo, who has a smirk widening on his face as he takes in the flush that dusts your cheeks, despite the tension that sits on his broad shoulders.
So do you. You reply, catching your bottom lip with your teeth instinctively as your eyes trail the length of his body. What you can see of it, at least.
He's dressed in a suit of all black – no ounce of colour aside from the singular indigo bluebell in the breast pocket of his suit jacket, one that he'd conjured when he noticed the patterns on your dress. His hair is unruly as always, blowing wildly in the soft breeze.
Stop looking at me like that, darling. It's inappropriate. His handsome smirk widens with his smugness.
I can't help it. Especially when you look at me like that.
He narrows his onyx eyes playfully at you and you turn around before anyone can notice your brief interaction, exhaling a breathy laugh as you shake your head. His own laughter reverberates through your mind like a gentle caress, igniting a spark in your core.
Strangely, you can feel his magic like its your very own, even two weeks after it had initially exploded around you.
Neither you or Mattheo have an answer for it. And neither of you are in a hurry to share the discovery, for it felt far too intimate to involve anyone else.
~∞~
As the service began the merfolk, who had gathered at the bank of the lake, had begun a sorrowful tune, their pallid skin glistening in the sun, wirey hair spreading about the murky waters. As they sang their song of loss and despair, Hagrid had started to walk down the central aisle, his face blotchy and red with tears that fell heavily from his eyes. He was cradling something in his arms, or rather someone, wrapped in velvet fabric of the deepest purple, spangled with glittering golden stars. A cloak that many students had deemed as Professor Dumbledore's personal favourite over the years, as it was his most frequently worn one.
It was becoming harder to swallow as a sob crawled its way up your throat at the sight. You gripped your father's hand in your's tightly and he squeezed back.
At that moment, it seemed like all the warmth from the sun was sucked from the atmosphere, as a cold shiver ran down your spine. You couldn't feel the powerful allure of his magical core anymore. His covered body looked so small and frail in Hagrid's arms and you finally let out a muffled sob as he makes his way past your row.
You feel a wave of love, sorrow and care caress your mind, which lets you know that, despite the indifference he holds towards his Headmaster, Mattheo was also feeling the devastation that their safety blanket; the one who was supposed to help defeat great evil, was gone.
When Hagrid was near the front, you could hardly see what was happening due to the amount of heads that obscured your view, but you can hear the distinct sound of hooves on stone as a herd of centaurs make their presence known, but they did not move from the trees and their shadows. They were stood preternaturally still as they observed with their bows and weapons laying limply at their sides.
Dumbledore's body had been gently placed onto a table of pure white quartzite, that made the colours of his cloak shine vibrantly in the steadily setting sun. The tune from the merfolk reached a slow end and from what you could make out, a small Ministry official, dressed in plain black robes stood beside the table, where a small stand had been erected.
From your seats, you and your parents could hardly hear what was said in Dumbledore's honour and when he stopped speaking and took his seat again, a palpable silence swept over the crowd when no one else got up to pay their respects. It was like a brutal finality had swept over the courtyard.
Albus Dumbledore was never coming back. You were on your own in this battle.
Suddenly, bright white flames errupted around the quartzite table and Dumbledore's body, growing higher and higher, spiralling in pretty patterns as a pheonix flew amongst the inferno joyfully as if rising from the ashes, before disappearing with an abrupt flash of golden light. The white fire, too, had vanished with the pheonix, leaving a white marble tomb in it's place.
More cries of shock are let out as a shower of arrows soared through the air, falling like dangerous silver-tipped raindrops into a clearing far away from the crowd. The centaurs turned and disappeared without a trace once they'd paid their tribute; the merfolk sunk below the surface of the Black Lake promptly after them.
~∞~
"Well...that was depressing." Theo's voice was low, sarcasm etched in his tone. Blaise and Enzo rolled their eyes as Pansy openly gaped at him as passers by gave him looks of disgust.
"Don't disrespect the dead, Teddy." You admonish with a scathing look, that he only bats away with shrug of his shoulders.
"Oh lighten up, tesoro. We all know he wouldn't have cared for all this seriousness." He says, bringing you into a side along hug, ruffling your carefully done hair with calloused hands. You bat them away with an irritated huff.
As soon as you were able to, you'd made a beeline for your friends, wrapping a sniffling Pansy into a hug, comforting eachother in silence as you sent words of affection mind to mind.
Now the six of you are stood off to the side, ostracised from where many of Dumbledore's Army are stood, sharing recollections of Dumbledore's life. Harry, Ron and Hermione are nowhere to be seen.
Mattheo is a silent, imposing wall of stoicism. He doesn't take part in you're friend's untimely banter, and hardly reacts to the scathing, untrustworthy looks that are sent his way.
You send a wave of your emotions to him, love pooling over the anxiety, which causes his stiff muscles to loosen as you reach over to take his hand in your's. Unashamedly you press kisses to his scarred knuckles, running a careful hand across his arm, and thread your fingers with his.
His onyx eyes are alight with gratitude, as the two of you listen to Theo and Enzo bicker.
Suddenly your isolation is cut off by a woman who looks exactly like the one who subjected you to the cruciatus curse a year ago. Her presence makes you startle on instinct, but that feeling is overcome with guilt as Andromeda Tonks, strong-willed, beautiful, stoic and regal; a good friend to your mother and Remus, stands before you with warm, russett eyes.
"Hello Meadow." She greets you, her voice soft and low, matching the slight hauty expression that matched Sirius' with haunting accuracy.
"Hi Andy." You reply, your brows crease in confusion when her husband is nowhere to be found. "Where's Ted?"
"Talking to your father and Remus, I believe." She says, a gentle look overtaking her features that makes her appear youthful and stress free, but that look is gone in a split second when her dark eyes trail to Mattheo's hand, still in your grasp and up to his carefully guarded face.
"You look scarily like your father." She says and you feel the way Mattheo imperceptibly flinches at her observation. The boys and Pansy stop their conversation to form a solid wall of mistrust behind the two of you, faces resigned and stony.
She must sense their growing hostility because she relaxes the harshness from her face, replacing it with apology.
"I mean no offfence." She says slowly, face twisting with regret. "We cannot help who are parents are, after all."
Mattheo doesn't relax, but he knows that you clearly trust her. Andromeda turns to face you instead, that soft look that painted her aristocratic face when she first saw you, appearing again.
"I've come to offer an olive branch of sorts." She tells you. "Remus vouched for the all of you and my nephew during a previous meeting and I'm inclined to agree with him."
"Nephew?" Blaise questions and you turn to see that they all look equally as confused.
"This is Andromeda Tonks, previously Andromeda Black." You introduce her formally with a light smile on your face, and the recognition lights up on your friends' faces when you do. "Draco's Aunt."
"I do wish I was meeting your friends under different circumstances, Meadow." She says.
"What's this olive branch you mentioned?" You ask curiously, steering the conversation back in the direction it had been going in before being sidetracked.
"I'm offering my home as a safe house for you all." Andromeda replies, casting her eyes on your Slytherin friends again.
"What's the catch?" Mattheo asks, his voice filled with suspicion, his grip on your hand tightening with his growing paranoia. You sooth him unconsciously with a stroke of your fingers against his knuckles. Andromeda's careful eyes catch the moment almost immediately.
"We know you're already inducted into your father's regime, unwillingly." She says quietly, wary of Mattheo untrusting stance. "With Severus gone, it is imperative that we know what we're dealing with."
"You need spies." Theo says with certainty, his face twisting with barely restrained contempt.
Andromeda only nods once.
Theo, Enzo and Mattheo seem to have a three way conversation mentally before they come to a decision and it's Enzo who speaks up first.
"Who else besides Professor Lupin, know about this?"
"Meadow's parents, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Alastor Moody."
You stare up at Mattheo with uncertainty. Would they really put their lives at risk for an organisation that barely trusts them?
"Are there any other conditions?" Mattheo asks, stepping towards Andromeda slightly, but not in any threatening way.
"Gather as much information as you can, as safely as you can. And get my nephew and my sister out of that Manor."
"What about after the war?" Pansy asks, having been silent throughout the whole exchange. "Like you said, they're already inducted. If the war goes in Potter's favour, will they be pardoned?"
Andromeda seems to still at that, as if she didn't know the answer and suddenly every single one of you are on edge as you consider the possibility that, if the boys help, they could be thrown right into Azkaban to rot, simply for carrying the burden of the Dark Mark.
"After the war," Andromeda whispers, "there will be justice. But I cannot predict the outcome, and we won't win without your help. I know how Voldemort's court works, for I was part of it for much of my youth before I got out. What you're doing already is proof enough that you are inherently good, even if most people don't see it."
"But what if-" Pansy replies but Andromeda holds out one of her slim, pale hands to gently silence her trail of thought.
"Thinking of that now will not help you during this. You mustn't for it will dull your hope for a better future. Take the offer, my house is in a quiet muggle town. No one will bother you there and it's delightfully warm this time of year."
You each exchange silent but definitive looks before Mattheo nods towards her once and immediately the six of you are given the image of a quaint cottage that sits on the edge of a seaside town, seemingly in the middle of nowhere.
"Ted and I will visit occasionally, to make sure our house is not in disarray. Remus or Alastor will deliver your assignments on a biweekly basis."
"Where will you stay, if we're taking up your space?" You ask and Andromeda offers you a friendly smile.
"With your parents in a safe house of our own. With them working high profile jobs in the Ministry and St Mungo's and being 'suspected' members of the Order, they can't be living somewhere anyone can find them."
You blink back your surprise emotions at the implications of her statement. It dawns on you then. The severity of everything happening around you.
Their need for an insider means that The Order weren't as prepared as they wanted people to believe.
They were willing to send your friends to the snake pit so they would have a chance to save themselves.
~∞~
The cottage stands at the end of a winding lane in Falmouth, Cornwall. It's all cobblestoned streets and thatch roofed houses, surrounded by idyllic fields and the most stunning views of beach for as far as the eye could see.
It was certainly out of the way – the nearest village was about a thirty minute walk away.
The perfect place to erect a safe house.
The six of you are stood infront of the picket fenced gate, bags in hand as your parents, Andromeda, Ted and Remus finish putting up the final protective enchantments.
It's been a week since the funeral. In that week, you spent every possible second with your parents, who seemed reluctant to let you stay here. All week, they'd been asking you to join them in their own safe house; one accidental peak in their minds told you all you needed to know for the reason why.
They didn't trust your friends. They especially didn't trust Mattheo.
Now, you stand beside him, tucked into his side as Remus gives you a debrief of instructions for the boys' first task.
"When is the next meeting?" He asks Mattheo, head tilting as you all stand in the cramped kitchen of the cottage, your parents and the Tonks couple nowhere to be seen.
Mattheo opens his mouth to answer, but grimaces as the Mark on his forearm burns in earnest, warning him...daring him to answer. You feel his pain in the very depths of your soul, scrunching your face at the feeling that brushes over you, even as you squeeze his hand in your's.
No one seems to notice other than Remus, who stares between you and Mattheo almost too quickly that you could have missed it.
"I see." He nods to himself as Mattheo runs his hand against his agitated forearm. "Does this happen whenever you try and disclose information."
"Only with the more top secret things." Enzo says from beside Pansy, who has already found where the mugs are as she sips on a steaming cup of tea.
Remus is silent for a moment, as if contemplating whether or not this would even work, before he speaks again.
"At the next meeting, try and gather as much information as possible. Even if it seems meaningless – but only if it doesn't pain you." He says gently. Remus knows pain, and he knows how detrimental it can be for a person.
He doesn't want to see this group of young adults go through what he did, but he knows it's futile, and hypocritical of him to wish, for he's the one sending them into the snake pit.
"How's 'meaningless' information going to help the Order?" Theo asks with skeptical eyes.
"We need to buy Harry time." Remus says, but he doesn't divulge any further.
"Why?" You ask from Mattheo's side and Remus' gaze turns to you.
"You know why, Meadow." He says and your face twists in confusion before realisation sets in.
"He's going to hunt horcruxes instead of returning to Hogwarts, isn't he." It's not a question and in the way that Remus tenses, you know you're right.
"Yes, Meadow. But I'm afraid what they found wasn't a real one."
This, you already knew of course.
"What do you mean, it wasn't real?" Mattheo sounds like he doesn't believe a word Remus says, and one look up at his face confirms the disbelief in his tone.
"It was a fake. Something transfigured into a replica of the Locket." Remus pulls out a polaroid photo from his pocket. In the centre of the blurred image, sits a locket with a similar insignia to the ring that Dumbledore had handed to you in the Hospital Wing at the start of the year.
"That's not possible." Mattheo snarls and you take it upon yourself to push him into one of the chairs at the dining table, lest he try and launch himself at your old Professor.
"It is very possible." Remus says without a blink. "You see, in the first war, we had a spy. Only few of us knew of his identity but he told us that he'd discovered something. He'd found out about horcruxes and was going to singlehandedly destroy them himself.
One day he was scheduled to come to a meeting, to discuss any progress with his discovery, and to also give us more information on who was on Voldemort's side, but he didn't show up.
Three days later, his house elf, Kreacher showed up in my flat. He didn't even get a funeral."
Remus' voice was soft and desolate as he told you this information, eyes foggy as he relives one of the most traumatic times of his life. Your eyes are alight with realisation almost as soon as he's finished speaking.
"Kreature? Isn't that-"
"Sirius' family house elf? Yeah he is." Remus replied, his eyes glassy.
"Sirius had a brother-" you whisper, your voice betraying your sadness at the thought of the eccentric man.
"Yes. His name was Regulus Black."
~∞~
omg she's finally posted!😱😱
a few things...first of all i have 1000 followers!?! wtf!! thankyou with my whole heart 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼
secondly...i've been revamping the layout of my posts but theres an issue with a couple of them (cough...chapter 16....cough) and it wont let me edit those posts but thats fine😶😶😶😶
anyway hope you enjoyed this one....the cliffhanger wasn't planned but then i liked how it flowed to the start of chapter 18 so hehehehe
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hjparisian · 5 months
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always yours-harry j potter x reader
p: harry j potter x fem! reader w: TW !!! toxic relationship, abuse, fluff ending, cussing, not proof read summary: harry and (y/n) come across each other a bit after the war and reconnect. a/n: another request from a lovely follower! so sorry this is so late. i haven't had motivation to write and couldn't figure out what to even write. if any of you guys are in an abusive relationship, please try to reach out to someone! i know it's better said than done but you all deserve the best.
The light breeze felt perfect to (Y/N). It was her day off of work from the Ministry today, so (Y/N) decided to use this day for herself to relax. Merlin knows that her work and her boyfriend has her feeling drained.
(Y/N) had just exited Flourish and Blotts, nose in one of the new books she bought. Her focus was disrupted when she bumped into a large figure, making her drop her book.
"Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry, I should've been looking where I was going," (Y/N) said to the person as she went to pick up her book but someone else grabbed it first.
"Oh it's alright, no worries," a familiar voice said to her.
(Y/N) looked up to the person handing her her book back.
"Wait, H-Harry?"
"(Y/N)?"
The girl was in shock. In front of her was her old friend and former crush, Harry Potter. The last time they've seen each other was at the Battle of Hogwarts. Though she had returned to Hogwarts for her eighth year, Harry did not.
"What are you doing here?" (Y/N) asked the man.
"I was just grabbing some stuff for school."
"School?"
"Yeah," Harry said. "I'm teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts."
"That's amazing Harry!" (Y/N) said to him. "I mean you were the best at the class. Plus you were such an amazing teacher when you taught Dumbledore's Army so it doesn't surprise me."
"Thanks, (Y/N). And what are you doing?"
"Oh, I just came from Flourish and Blotts. It's my day off from the Ministry and I was looking for new books."
"Well," Harry says. "What else do you have planned for today?"
"Honestly, nothing else."
"Do you want to come over to my place?" Harry asked her. "I mean, you don't have to if you don't want to. I was just hoping we could catch up maybe?"
"I would love to," (Y/N) said without a second thought.
Harry and (Y/N) exited the Leaky Cauldron and apparated to Harry's place. It was an apartment not too far from London. Harry unlocked the door and let (Y/N) enter.
It was a rather simple but clean apartment. There were a couple photos on the walls from Harry's years at Hogwarts. One that caught (Y/N)'s eye was a picture of Dumbledore's Army during their fifth year. Harry was in the middle of the photo and (Y/N) somehow had a spot right next to Harry.
"Bring back memories, huh?" Harry said as he stood behind her.
"Yeah. I still remember the first meeting." (Y/N) said. "I wanted to punch Zacharias in the face."
Harry laughed at your comment. "Me too, but he did come around."
Harry guided (Y/N) to the couch in his living room.
"Did you want anything to drink?" Harry asked her. "I got water, butterbeer, firewhiskey."
"Some butterbeer please."
Harry left to the kitchen and returned with two bottles of butter beer, handing one to (Y/N).
"So, how are Hermione and Ron?"
"They're good. They got engaged recently."
"Really?" (Y/N) said in awe. "That's wonderful! I remember talking with Hermione about Ron back in sixth year. Finally got her to admit her feelings for him."
Harry nodded his head, grinning at the memories. "They were both too stubborn to realize it."
(Y/N) nodded before taking a sip of the butterbeer. "What about you Harry? You were with Ginny last I heard."
"I was but not anymore." (Y/N) had a shocked look on her face. "We broke up a while back."
"Really? And Ron hasn't killed you?" (Y/N) asked.
Harry chuckled a bit. "It was actually Ginny who ended it. It was mutual so no bad blood between us."
"That's good then."
A question had been burning on the back of Harry's mind. Thankfully, they were on the topic of it.
"What about you? Are you with anyone?"
(Y/N) set down the bottle she was holding before she answered. "I am actually."
Harry felt his heart drop a bit. "Who is it?"
(Y/N) started messing with the hem of her top, feeling a bit nervous. "Do you remember Cormac McLaggen? He tried out for keeper our sixth year."
For some reason, Harry felt his heart crumble a bit. That bloke Cormac is with (Y/N)? Those two couldn't be anymore different. How could that troll earn her love?
"Harry?"
(Y/N)'s voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
"Are you alright Harry? You were zoning out a bit," (Y/N) pointed out.
"Oh, yeah I'm fine. I remember him, bit of a jerk from what I remember in sixth year." Harry said. "Is Cormac good to you?"
(Y/N) avoided eye contact and kept messing with her shirt. "Oh yeah. I mean we have a few arguments here and there, but he means well. Do you mind bringing another bottle of butterbeer please?"
Harry nodded before getting up to the kitchen again. He didn't necessarily believe (Y/N), but he wasn't going to prod on their relationship.
The two had been enjoying reconnecting. Harry told (Y/N) stories from his first year teaching at Hogwarts, one including how a third year girl sent him a singing card on Valentine's Day. (Y/N) also told Harry about her job at the Ministry and how her coworker spilt coffee on Kingsley Shacklebolt's robes.
(Y/N) looked at the clock on the nearby wall to see that it was a quarter past twelve am. She couldn't believe that she's been talking to Harry for this long. She had to get home.
"Hey Harry, I have to get going," (Y/N) told the man sitting next to her.
Harry looked at the clock to also see how late it was. "Oh, sorry. I didn't realize the time."
"It's quite alright Harry, I had a wonderful time with you anyways."
"Will you be apparating home?" Harry asks her. "Don't want you to head home by yourself if you aren't."
"Yes, I am. You don't need to worry," she said to him. "Besides, I know a few spells thanks to a certain Gryffindor."
Harry smiled a bit, knowing she was referring to him.
"I'll see you later Harry," (Y/N) said while handing him a paper.
The girl disapperated, returning to her home.
Harry unfolded the paper, which revealed some numbers. It was (Y/N)'s phone number. Right under it, she left a small message.
Call me! :)
The next morning, (Y/N) woke up to hearing noises coming from the kitchen. She put on a sweater and walked out to find her boyfriend Cormac cooking.
"Good morning," he said to her.
"Morning," she said.
"Thought I'd make us breakfast before you go to work," said Cormac. "Also where were you last night? You got home pretty late."
"I was catching up with an old friend."
Cormac hummed before asking her the dreaded question. "Who?"
"Oh it's no one special," she nervously said.
Cormac raised an eyebrow at her before asking again. "Who were you with, (Y/N)?"
(Y/N) cleared her throat before speaking. "Harry."
"Potter?"
"Yeah him."
(Y/N) looked at her boyfriend, seeing a look of resentment in his eyes.
"I never really liked that bloke." Cormac said while handing (Y/N) her plate. "Gave the keeper spot to Weasley just because that's his best friend."
(Y/N) just nodded, not wanting to say anything to make Cormac upset.
The two ate until (Y/N) had to go to work. While heading to work, (Y/N) felt her phone buzz. She saw it was a number she didn't recognize, but the back of her mind was hoping it was a certain boy.
(Y/N) took chance and answered it. "Hello?"
"Hello?" A familiar voice said. "Is this (Y/N)?"
(Y/N) laughed a bit before responding. "Yes it is."
"Oh good. It's Harry."
"I know," (Y/N) said, smiling. "I recognized your voice."
"Ah yeah," Harry said. "How are you?"
"Good. Just heading to work."
"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't realize. I can call later."
(Y/N) felt herself smiling more.
"No it's alright! I have time. Besides, it makes the travel to work less lonely."
And so began a new routine of Harry calling her on her way to work. Which then went into them calling each other after work. On nights Cormac was away, Harry and (Y/N) would call each other.
Harry and (Y/N) began seeing each other more in person too. He'd join her on trips to Diagon Alley for more books or to grab a bite after a long day of work.
This change did not go by unnoticed by Cormac, though. He noticed how distracted she became, how she smiled at her phone more, how she left for work earlier and came back later, how she'd go out more.
The boy had enough.
One day, when (Y/N) had returned from work late, Cormac was sitting in her living room, waiting for her arrival.
"Oh! Didn't know you were here Cormac, I thought you wouldn't get home 'til later," the girl said upon noticing her boyfriend on her couch.
"Where were you?" The boy asked her.
Cormac had gotten up and walked towards her, glaring at her.
(Y/N) had begun to feel a bit nervous, knowing Cormac wouldn't like the reason she had returned late.
"I-I was at work," (Y/N) stammered out.
"What about after work?" Cormac questioned her. "Where did you go?"
"Just went to grab a bite."
Cormac began pestering her. "With who? You had to have been with someone if you've taken this long."
(Y/N) felt herself starting to shake. She had never enjoyed when Cormac began to act like this, knowing he was getting angry and a bit emotional.
"I was just out with a friend," she meekly said.
"I wanna know who you were with (Y/N)."
"It was just a friend, Cormac."
"Don't bullshit me. Was it with Potter?"
(Y/N)'s hesitation was all Cormac needed to get his answer.
"It was with Potter, wasn't it."
(Y/N) couldn't lie to him, knowing he figured her out. She nodded.
"Yes, but he's just a friend."
Cormac laughed at her. "Oh really, (Y/N)? Doesn't look like it to me. All those days you came home late, were on the phone for hours. Probably all with fucking Potter. Wouldn't be surprised if you went and shagged him."
--TW description of physical abuse--
"Cormac, I didn't shag him! We were just reconnecting, that's all. Please let's just tal-"
A loud smack echoed through the room.
Cormac had hit her.
"Shut up you bitch!"
Tears welled up in (Y/N)'s face. Cormac took noticed of this and began laughing at her.
"You're crying?" The boy shoved her against the wall. "What if I give you something to actually cry about?"
"Cormac, stop!" (Y/N) sobbed.
He let go of her and let her drop to the ground. (Y/N) had begun sobbing loudly, hyperventilating.
"Get out (Y/N)! Go to your fucking boyfriend Potter for all I care." Cormac screamed at her.
--TW end--
(Y/N) had pushed herself up and got out the door before Cormac slammed it behind her. She decided to use her strength to apparate to the only person that could help her.
She knocked on the door and waited a second before it opened to reveal her former schoolmate.
Harry stared at her before bringing her inside and embracing her. She flinched, but began melting into his embrace after telling herself that it's just Harry.
"I just need to know," Harry began. "Did Cormac do this to you?"
(Y/N) just nodded, not wanting to speak.
Harry felt himself become angry. How could Cormac do this to her? She was an angel, unlike that asshole. He never deserved her. But did Harry himself deserved (Y/N)? He couldn't protect her, keep her safe. This could've been avoided if Harry was with (Y/N).
He couldn't think about that now when (Y/N) was in his arms needing care. He brought the girl to his bathroom, doing his best to try and tend the bruises that littered her skin. Harry drew a bath and brought a change of clothes for (Y/N).
"I'll be right outside, I promise." He told her. "I'll have to finish checking your bruises when your done."
Once (Y/N) decided to get out of the bath half an hour later, Harry made sure he didn't miss any other injuries before bringing her to his bed. He was just going to let her rest until a hand grabs his.
"Don't leave. Please."
Harry would always listen to (Y/N).
The boy stayed with her until sleep finally took over. As much as Harry wanted to stay with her, he had business to take care of.
Thankfully, he remembered where (Y/N) lived after dropping her off multiple times so he apparated in the night to her door. He banged on the door hard until it opened, revealing his new worst enemy.
"What do you want Potter? (Y/N) isn't here."
"Oh I know." Harry told Cormac. "Just came for a chat."
Harry stepped forward in an attempt to enter the house until Cormac stopped him.
"I'm busy right now."
"Well I guess I can try to make this quick," Harry said.
A punch was thrown at the older wizard, catching him off guard. Harry grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pushed them into the apartment, shoving him up against the nearest wall.
"I know what you did to (Y/N), McLaggen. How dare you hurt her!" Harry screamed at him.
"I didn't do such thing." Another punch was thrown.
"Don't you dare lie to me! I know you did it. You hurt her! You never deserved her."
"Oh but you think you do?" Cormac scoffed at Harry, while trying to push him off.
"I would've treated her way better than you ever have."
"You want a slut like her? You're pathetic Potter."
Those words had enraged Harry more than ever. The two continued fighting, Harry having the upper hand. One more punch landed on Cormac before he fell to the floor.
"You better stay away from (Y/N). If I hear that you stepped one foot near her I won't hesitate to punch you again," Harry spat at him before making his leave back to his home.
Harry headed for his room, wanting to make sure that the girl he loves was still there. Fortunately, she was, but she was awake.
"Where did you go Harry? I was getting worried."
"I just went to take care of something," he said, trying to reassure her.
"What do you need to take care of at this time?" (Y/N) said while walking toward him.
A small gasp slipped her month before her hand made contact with his cheek. Harry would be lying if he said it didn't feel nice.
"You're hurt Harry!" (Y/N) exclaimed before dragging him to his bathroom.
"(Y/N) love, I'm fine." He kind of wasn't. Harry looked at his reflection in the mirror and saw the marks Cormac apparently left him. He was too focused on getting vengeance for (Y/N) that he ignored it.
(Y/N) began cleaning his face. "Harry, you have dried blood on your face. I don't think that's considered fine. What were you doing?"
"If I tell you, you have to promise you won't be upset," Harry said to her.
"What?" (Y/N) paused, confused.
"Just promise me."
"Fine. I promise I won't get upset."
"Alright, well," Harry began. The adrenaline was gone and he began feeling nervous. "I went to visit Cormac at your guys apartment."
"You went to see Cormac?" (Y/N) squeaked. "Why would you do that Harry?"
"I couldn't stand what he did to you (Y/N). He hurt you. You didn't deserve what he did. I had to teach him a lesson."
"So you went to beat each other up?"
"Well, him more so than me," Harry joked.
"Why? Why would you beat him up for me?"
"Because (Y/N). I love you."
(Y/N)'s eyes widen in shock. "W-what?"
"I love you. And I think I always have. Seeing you brought back those feelings I've had back when we were at Hogwarts. I would do anything to protect you (Y/N)."
"Oh Harry," tears welled up in (Y/N)'s eyes.
Harry noticed and got a little bit worried. "It's alright if you don't feel the same way. I know you just had to deal with Cormac so-"
Arms wrapped around him and lips met his. Harry froze for a second before melting into it, gently placing his hands on her waist.
(Y/N) was the first to break the kiss, to respond to Harry's declaration of love to her.
"I love you too, Harry."
(Y/N) finished cleaning up Harry before heading back to his bed. His arms wrapped around her, keeping her warm and safe.
"I promise to protect you no matter what," Harry said to her. "I would do anything for you."
"And I will do the same for you, because you're mine."
"And I will always be yours."
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ginevrapng · 3 months
Note
Please ignore this if you don’t write from him! But can we get some Harry content, where’s he’s frustrated and only the reader can relax him. Or just any content with him! Your work is beautiful 🩷🩷
i'm glad you like my work and i hope you like this! <;33
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"harry, are you in?" you unlock the door to harry's flat with your key and go to find your boyfriend. you had loose plans today where he'll meet you after you've finished work and you'll go food shopping but he never turned up. when you find him he's sitting on the sofa, his shoulders are tense and he's hunched over. it seems like he hasn't heard you too caught up in his own thoughts.
you repeat yourself, trying to get harry's attention. harry jumps at your voice, looks at you and forces a smile. "hey, are you okay? you didn't come with me shopping," you say softly and concerned.
harry's body tenses up even more, "i'm so sorry, i completely forgot," he says quietly and sighs, turning back to the front and looking down at the desk.
you nod your head even though he's not looking at you anymore. you walk over to him so you're standing at the back of the sofa and peering other his shoulder. "what'cha looking at?"
"work," you hear him mumble but you catch the angry undertones.
you frown and your eyebrows furrow, you kiss the back of his head and start rubbing his shoulders, massaging them. "are they overworking you again?" you say and this time it's harry who can detect the annoyance directed at his bosses in your tone.
he makes a sound of conformation and then says, "ron and hermione have all been talking to me today about it and it's honestly it's just pissed me off. they kept saying they understand because they get overworked too but they don't the bosses love them and they get special treatment. i just kept getting more annoyed. to top it all off ginny messaged me about an hour asking if i was okay and if i needed anything let me know, i don't need anything, i can handle all of this on my own, i don't need any help, especially from my ex." he rushes out quickly in one breath frustrated and putting his head in his hands.
"harry love, look at me." you say gently and play with his hair. he keeps looking down with his head in his hands. "please," you whisper and he swivels around to look at you. his body warms up as he looks at you and he sees your expression, one of concern but mainly sadness from the situation. he doesn't detect any pity like he thinks all of his friends had, even if they didn't have that expression, he thinks they did.
"please don't overwork yourself, it really worries me. especially with how annoyed you sound with ron, hermione and ginny, they had good intentions baby." harry stays quiet listening to you speak. "i love you so much and i want you to be happy-"
this is where harry interrupts you, "i am happy, i have you."
"i want you to be happy AND healthy. you can't do that if you don't look after yourself."
harry relaxes slightly in your hold and you kiss his cheek. after you kiss his cheek he seems to get more comfortable and doesn't seem as stressed.
"i'm going to cook dinner baby, your favourite, and then we can have an early night." you tell him squeezing his shoulders and going to leave.
harry grabs hold of hand from behind before you can leave his grasp, "i really need to work." he sounds defeated at this point.
"no you don't love, you need food and then you can do what you need to do tomorrow," you say delicately but sounding more firm than you have been previously. "come help me cook," you pull his hand signalling that you want him to follow you into the kitchen.
harry watches you cooking and smiles to himself, you're humming a tune and occasionally look over to him and smiles back. he thinks about how lucky he is to have someone who cares about him so much. "i love you."
you stop what you were doing and go over to harry. you hug him and rest your head on his chest before looking up at him, "i love you too harry, so much." harry grins and he wraps his arms around your waist, perfectly content to be spending the night with you not thinking about work at all.
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claymoresword · 7 months
Text
I Choose Her | Chapter 15
Hermione Granger x Slytherin Fem!Reader
Summary: You are the daughter of two known death eaters from one of the oldest and richest families in the wizarding world. Are you truly prepared to give up everything you know for Hermione Granger?
Pairing: Hermione x Reader
Wordcount: 4.3k
Warnings: character death, mentions of animal abuse, y/n and hermione are so protective of each other it's sick
Note: Hello! wow this one took forever, I feel bad that I'm always apologizing for delayed updates but oh well here we are :/ this one is more to move the plot forward and I wanted to follow canon in a way that would make sense for this story
anyway, as always thank you so much for the continued support and an even bigger thanks for your patience! crossing my fingers that updates will be more frequent from here on out. that's it, i hope you enjoy this one!
Taglist: @gvrsto @aweidlich @xxsekhmet @arielj @poppyflower-22 @scarleigh1989 @smut-religiously777 @cocoyeehaw @blackbirdv98 @arcturusseer @iamcapitalgbicorn8287 @lonewalker17 @karasonromanoff @httphayn @bigbadsofty07 @cherryflavoredcoke @dumpsapphic @idontwannabehereatm @js-a-writer @baylegend6 @puta1
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Hermione stands over you as you hold out the thick strand of hair, pinched in between your fingers.
Harry and Ron stare at it with bated breaths, the air in between the four of you is still; anticipating.
You didn't have to consider for too long to know it belonged to your mother. You had nearly mistaken it for your own, if it weren't for the grayish undertones, only fully visible when illuminated.
It seems every time you saw your mother, her hair would be a shade lighter. As time did its duty, as the years passed, the older each of you got, the less you resembled the other.
You don't see your mother when you look in the mirror, not anymore.
"Are you sure that's hers?" Ron asks as you rise from your crouching position.
The painful lump in your throat prevents you from answering him.
You swallow thickly.
"I'm sure." You finally say.
Silence once again, as Ron reaches out to carefully pick out the strand, retrieving it from your grip, he drops it into the flask he held in his other hand with even more precision.
The only noise that fills the air is a faint sizzle, as the polyjuice potion consumes its final ingredient.
You feel Hermione move to your side, her fingers curl around your bicep, her other hand firmly intertwines with yours.
"Are you certain we'll be allowed into Bellatrix's vault?" Harry asks, he looks at you expectantly and you grace him with an assured nod.
"I've seen my mother retrieve things for her dozens of times, it'll work." You claim, but Harry's immediate skepticism doesn't evade you, and honestly, you can't hold it against him.
Your plan is far from foolproof. Like many times before the four of you are simply hoping to get by on pure chance and luck.
"How do we know what it is, when we get in her vault? I mean, a Horcrux could be anything." Ron asks, a question you were all wondering.
"I'll know." Harry quips plainly.
You glance at Hermione to shoot her a look before returning your attention back to Harry.
"It's hard to explain but– I'll just know." He adds, and none of you wish to push on the subject further.
════════════════════════════════════════════
You watched as Hermione lifted the flask filled with polyjuice to her lips, but then she pauses. Her shoulders rise as she takes a deep breath, as if preparing herself.
"Wait–" You interject, rising from the bed, in three large strides you are standing before your girlfriend.
"Let me drink it." You then place a hand over Hermione's, but she pries it off lightly.
"No, I'll do it." She counters, and you don't attempt to mask your disapproval.
"You can't drink it." Hermione reiterates.
"When we get to Gringotts, it'll appear more believable with you by my side, you know it." She adds, and you hate that Hermione is right.
You sigh.
"Darling, it's too dangerous." You breath out, your hand travels up her forearm, eventually tenderly cupping her face.
Hermione instinctively shuts her eyes at the sensation, she leans into your touch, her muscles no longer tense, her body visibly reacts to your warmth.
"We're all in danger." She finally claims, once your eyes meet again.
"This is the only way. There's another Horcrux hidden in her vault, we just have to find it." Hermione states assuredly but it does nothing to convince you of the plan.
You remain staring at your girlfriend, Hermione always had a way of making your heart feel like it could just implode within your chest.
You are overcome with love, care, and longing, all of these feelings encapsulated in the sheer dread of what's to come, of what might happen.
Hermione finds no trouble in returning your gaze.
This wordless exchange lasts for several seconds until Hermione decides to take advantage of your unmoving state. She leans in, passionately capturing your lips with her own.
Your hands quickly shift to rest on her waist, you then feel Hermione's hand move to the back of your head, pulling you closer.
You are taken aback as she opens her mouth wider, deepening the kiss, soon enough her tongue makes contact with your own.
You have no air left in your lungs, but the last thing you wish to do is pull away.
Hermione lets out a light hum as she presses her body up against yours; her eagerness causes your entire body to tremble, you worry your legs might give out at any moment.
The kiss ends as abruptly as it began.
A sharp gasp leaves Hermione's lips as she takes a step back, as if it proved a real struggle for her to cease the kiss.
Soon a sense of euphoria overcomes your entire being, even if it is fleeting, you feel at peace and it translates into a boyish grin across your face.
Hermione notices, and she has to bite her bottom lip to hide a smile herself.
She places a lingering hand over your chest before shoving you away playfully.
"Go on, wait outside. I'll meet you there." Hermione orders, and you know better than to protest.
════════════════════════════════════════════
You continued to pace back and forth, the usually maddening feeling of sand repeatedly filling your shoes does nothing to distract you.
Trepidation rapidly materializes within you the longer you waited for your girlfriend.
By taking the Polyjuice and assuming your mother's identity, Hermione is putting herself in immense danger, and you are expected to stand by and simply witness it, again.
"It'll be fine." You hear Harry's voice, but you don't acknowledge him.
You can't feel anything beyond the incessant pounding in your head; you possessed barely any strength at all, you mustered just enough to stomach this.
Soon enough, Hermione emerges from the hut and the sight you are met with is unsettling.
The woman standing before you appears to resemble your mother. Wearing the clothes your mother would wear, there was no trace of Hermione, beyond her voice.
Harry and Ron fail to speak alongside your silence. Hermione looks between the three of you impatiently.
"So, how do I look?" She asks, and you can't help but grimace.
"Disturbing." You quip.
Then you had no choice but to look away.
"Come on, let's just get this over with." You release an exasperated breath and Harry emerges next to you with Griphook.
"Griphook you give that to Hermione to hold onto, alright?" The man states, but it mainly sounded like a warning.
The Goblin lets out a subtle gripe as he hesitates, before eventually sheathing the steel into your girlfriend's bag.
"You get us into Bellatrix's vault, and the sword is yours." Harry reassures.
Ron finally takes out his wand so he may alter his own appearance, with a single wave, his hair is inches longer. The beard that appears on his face ages him, and makes him nearly unrecognizable.
"Now remember the plan, I'll be under the cloak with Griphook. Y/n and Hermione you'll try to convince the Goblin to let you through. Ron, you stand back in case anything happens." Harry runs through the plan once more and this time you don't suppress a scoff.
Hermione grabs your arm, wordlessly asking for you to stand down.
"This is a terrible plan." You say it anyway, and Harry doesn't retaliate, instead he nods in agreement.
"I know. But it's still the best one we've got."
════════════════════════════════════════════
You had to remind yourself to breathe as you walked through the doors of Gringotts.
Although certain the anxiety you are feeling at this moment is incomparable to the terror Hermione must be experiencing.
You had to battle every instinct urging you to reach out and hold your girlfriend's hand.
Ron trails closely behind the two of you, Harry and Griphook somewhere close by, hidden by the cloak of invisibility.
You brace yourselves once you get to the podium, a moment passes, but the Goblin on duty fails to acknowledge your presence entirely.
Hermione takes it upon herself to clear her throat.
Still, nothing.
She glances at you for help, and you nod, urging her to speak.
"I wish to enter." Your girlfriend states curtly, her best attempt to appear menacing.
In any other instance you would find it a little humorous, but right now, Hermione's poor imitation only makes you wince.
The Goblin fails to acknowledge either of you still, your patience rapidly thinning out.
"My mother has been sent to clear out Madam Lestrange's vault. I am certain you understand why you mustn't delay us." You say and the creature finally looks up.
His entire demeanor shifts, but it only helped to annoy you further.
"Madam, forgive me I did not realize it was you." Bogrod says, feigned cordiality.
"Of course you may enter.. but first, do you mind presenting your wand?" He adds and there is a pause.
You can sense Hermione's panic, but she tries her best to maintain a composed front.
She folds her arms over her chest.
"I hardly think that's necessary." Hermione states.
"I'm afraid I must insist." The Goblin's grin falters, and you realized you had to quickly step in
"Why?" You say, instinctively stepping forward, partially shielding Hermione with your body.
"New policy, I'm afraid." Bogrod explains, but before you can argue your case, the creature's expression shifts.
Your eyes catch the waft of green smoke seeping into the Goblin's nostrils.
You manage a quick glimpse of what looked like the tip of a wand being retracted, it disappears seemingly into thin air.
Y/n quickly realizes that Harry has sensibly, stepped in before things got ugly.
In an instant, the Goblin changes his tune.
"Very well, Madam, if you will follow me." He says with a dopey smile.
You hear Hermione let out a sigh of relief, you can't help but do the same.
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The ride through the dungeons was nothing close to pleasant. The cart transporting you zoomed at an unfathomable speed, the abrupt turns and twists would have made you nauseous, if you weren't feeling sick already.
Hermione continues clutching your hand in hers, tighter than usual, your grip is similar in turn.
Finally, the cart halts, and before you know it, the six of you are free falling dozens of feet.
You reach for your wand in your pocket but Hermione beats you to it.
"Arresto Momentum!" She exclaims, and your bodies hang mid air, inches from the ground. Soon the spell wears off, the six of you fall onto the cold, wet, stone, front first.
"Thank you, Hermione." Harry says, as he helps himself off the ground.
You quickly do the same, rushing over to help your girlfriend up.
Hermione gladly takes your hand, when your eyes meet, you notice her appearance, she is back to her usual self.
The Polyjuice potion had entirely worn off but Bogrod, still under the Imperius curse, is unable to do anything about it.
"Come on, this way." Griphook shouts, he leads the four of you to the vaults.
He navigates the dark cavern with ease, as you try to get your eyes to adjust, a piercing screech fills the air, and it causes both you and Hermione to glance at each other.
You warily follow Griphooks lead, but the sight you're met with when the six of you turn the corner makes your breath catch in your throat.
"That's a Ukrainian Ironbelly–" Ron points out, awe and disbelief you shared.
Then Griphook picks up an object you quickly deduced to be a certain type of bell. As he shakes it, the dragon's screeching intensifies, it flails around as if trying to escape the noise.
It was only then you noticed the thick metal chains around its neck and legs.
"It's been trained to expect pain when it hears this sound." The creature claims and Hermione releases you so she may step forward, following his lead.
She speaks once she is in earshot of the Goblin.
"That's barbaric." Your girlfriend says, a certain tenor to her voice, you knew her well enough to recognize that she was truly indignant.
The dragon's screeching continues as the four of you slip past it.
It only retreats to cowers silently in the corner once the noises from the bell stops.
The vault is now in sight, as the group approaches you can't help but notice that Bogrod has disappeared.
You glance out at where you spotted the Goblin last and sure enough. He was standing in front of the dragon, simply staring at it; the curse has evidently impaired his judgment and all sense of danger.
"Wait– what do we do with him?" You gesture to Bogrod.
Although before anyone can respond, the Ukrainian Ironbelly takes a large step forward, then from its mouth, comes flames, big and blistering enough to turn the entire space scorching hot in an instant.
The once Goblin was now burnt to nothing but ash.
Hermione, Y/n and the boys only manage to stare in utter shock.
"That's unfortunate." Ron finally quips.
"Come on, we don't have much time." Griphook warns, he advances forward and the four of you follow.
As you arrive at the vault, it appears familiar to you, but only distantly.
It was not the vault Snape led you to a few months ago but it appears almost identical.
"Is this where you got the sword?" Hermione asks in a hushed tone, and you quickly shake your head.
"No, the key Snape gave me led to a different vault." You explain, but your girlfriend doesn't say anything, expecting your response.
As the five of you enter Bellatrix's vault, it is worse than you expected.
It is filled with random trinkets, some valuable, some not.
The three of you sport a defeated expression, but Harry was not going to give up so easily.
He steps forward.
"It's in here, I can sense it." He states.
You observe silently as The Chosen One approaches a particular cup, amidst an array of objects that look nearly identical to it.
Soon enough he reaches for it.
Harry holds out the cup, nothing is said, but there is an energy that reverberates through the air.
It's unmistakable. He has a Horcrux in hand.
"Pass me the sword." He extends his arm and Hermione scrambles through her bag, eventually retrieving the steel.
She passes it to Harry, he grips the pommel, but doesn't get the chance to do much else as a noise captures your attention.
Ron knocks over a goblet by accident, instead of breaking as it touches the ground, it only multiplies.
As the duplicate makes contact with another object it does the same thing. Soon objects are spawning at a rapid rate, filling up the already limited vacant space by your feet.
"What's happening?" Hermione exclaims over the loud noise, you instinctively step to her side as she nearly loses her balance.
"It's an enchantment, everything you touch will multiply." The Goblin explains, you aren't given much chance to come up with an escape plan as the objects quickly engulf all five of you.
For what felt like eternity, you fought to keep your head above.
You spot Hermione and Ron doing the same, but you can't see Harry anymore.
Amidst the chaos, somehow, Griphook gets a hold of the Horcrux.
Then, Harry finally emerges from the sea of gold and silver. He frantically looks around, in search of the object, but his attention shifts to the Goblin as he proudly holds up the Horcrux.
"We had a deal, Griphook!" Harry bellows, and the creature only grins, malicious, irritating.
"The cup for the sword!" He strikes up the bargain, and you curse under your breath.
It is getting increasingly difficult to stay afloat, and you watched as Hermione and Ron struggled the same.
Harry begrudgingly hands over the sword, the Goblin then returns the Horcrux back to him.
"I said I'd get you in, I never said anything about getting you out." Griphook quips, he holds his hand up against the door, unlocking it.
Soon the objects begin spilling out of the vault after him but the four of you continue to struggle to make your way to the exit.
If only you could retrieve your wand, you could stop the Goblin from going any further.
"Hermione, can you reach your wand?" You shout, and the struggle in your girlfriend's face is evident.
"I'm trying!" She replies.
After moments of struggle, the four of you miraculously manage to make your way out, but it was too late.
The Goblin is nowhere to be seen.
"Griphook!" Harry calls out in anger, he doesn't expect a reply, and he doesn't receive one.
His voice echoes through the dungeons, and it only works to disturb the dragon ahead.
It lets out another deafening screech.
You approach slowly, in search of the object that you know will subdue the beast, but you can't find it anywhere and you know for certain Griphook is the reason for it.
"The bell- it's gone." You don't try to conceal your distress.
"That foul creature– how are we supposed to get out of here?" Ron curses and you begin looking around for some type of solution, an idea to come to you.
You take an experimental step forward; careful, quiet.
You consider that perhaps, if you moved slowly, the dragon won't react.
However, your theory was quickly proven incorrect as the beast storms towards you within the confines of its chains, soon opening its mouth.
You were only inches away from getting charred alive before Hermione harshly grabbed your arm, yanking you to her side.
The pins you up against the pillar, out of the dragon's sight.
Ron and Harry stood a few paces away, their backs also against the wall.
"What on earth was your plan there?" Hermione hisses, and you are staggered for a moment.
You've never seen her so furious with you.
"I just thought if I moved quietly–" You start, but then another loud noise pierces the atmosphere.
Clearly, your stunt only exacerbated the dragon's already agitated state.
The sounds that follow suggest that the formidable beast was now fighting to be released from its restraints.
"Don't you ever try something like that again–" Hermione warns, her hand still gripping your collar.
You nod apologetically, suddenly you almost feel like a child being reprimanded.
Your girlfriend finally loosens her grip on your shirt.
The beast's actions begin to get larger and louder, in its outrage it clamours at the stone walls, chipping large pieces off.
"What a joke– did we go through all of that just to die in here?" Ron quips.
"We can't apparate.." Your girlfriend mumbles to herself, mentally debating an escape plan.
"Hermione?" Harry asks, it sounds closer to a desperate plea.
You were all stumped, only hoping that the mostly brilliant mind out of the four of you will manage to think of a plan to escape.
Hermione finally looks up at you, and by the look on her face you can tell whatever it might be; she's figured something out.
"I've got an idea, but it's mad." She admits, with a raised voice and truth be told you hated the sound of that.
Harry and Ron stare at her expectantly and you only grow more nervous by the second.
Hermione turns to y/n, you don't speak a word to her but it is not required as she already senses your anxiety, she places a firm hand on your chest right above your heart, you were certain she can feel it pounding against her palm.
"Just trust me." She reassures, too swiftly for your liking, as she completes her sentence she retreats.
You can only anticipate her next move, and it is not one you'd ever expect, in fact it nearly sends you into an early grave.
You watched as Hermione leaped off the balcony, landing on the dragon's back.
"Hermione!" You exclaim.
She struggles to get a grip of the beast for a moment, you are stunned when the dragon stills, it doesn't try to force Hermione off it's back.
"Come on!" Your girlfriend shouts, and you were first to mirror her earlier action. With a single large leap you manage to grab onto the dragon's horns, you pull yourself up, situating yourself behind Hermione.
The dragon reacts the same, but it is too fixated on the chains wrapped around its neck to care.
Soon enough Harry and Ron manage to climb on as well.
There is a point of eery stillness as the dragon seemingly appears too tired to continue fighting.
"Now what?" Harry poses a good question, and you take it upon yourself to fish out your wand.
"Relashio!" In one swift move, you fling the spell, aiming for the dragon's tail.
The beast reacts violently, in the process, the spell breaks the chains tethering it to the ground, finally freeing the beast from its restraints.
"Defodio!" Your girlfriend exclaims as she holds out her own wand, and soon enough, the dragon takes flight, bursting through the ceiling.
In an instant, Gringotts Bank is reduced to fragments of wood, glass and stone as the dragon flees the building, taking the four of you with it.
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You have been on dragonback for what felt like hours, however an uncanny feeling of serenity, fills you as the beast flew through the air, past villages and hillsides.
As you approach the vast water, the dragon begins to fly lower; it appears the beast aims to halt its tiresome journey through the city soon.
"We're dropping!" Harry exclaims, panic begins to set in amongst the four of you once again.
"I say we jump!" Ron suggests, but you aren't particularly fond of the idea.
"What?" You bark.
"When?" Hermione chimes in.
"Now!" Harry responds as he lets go, you watched as he falls into the freezing water below.
He is quickly followed by Ron and Hermione, and you let out a groan as you release your grip on the dragon.
"Damn you, Weasley!" You exclaim as you freefall into the lake.
As your body touches the water, it immediately feels like hundreds of blistering hot knives are incessantly puncturing your skin.
It is almost unbearable, but then your head rises to the surface and pure instinct kicks in. The four of you, with some difficulty, eventually manage to swim to shore.
-
Hermione grabs your hand to help you up, in your weakened state you barely manage to climb the cliff.
Harry storms ahead, seemingly unaffected, no doubt driven by pure adrenaline.
"He knows." He blurts out.
"You know who." Harry explains, and Hermione lets go of your hand to catch up to the dark haired man.
"He knows we broke into Gringotts, he knows what we took, and he knows we're hunting Horcruxes." He admits.
"How is it you know?" You ask, jogging slightly to catch up, Ron following closely behind.
"You let him in?" Hermione asks, her tone dissaproving.
"Harry you can't do that–" She says but her bestfriend interrupts.
"Hermione, I can't always help it! Or maybe I can, I don't know." He retaliates.
"Never mind that, what happened?" You interject.
The four of you halt as you get to the top of the cliff.
"Well, he's angry– and scared too." Harry starts, he holds out his hands as Hermione retrieves her bottle of Essence Of Dittany from her bag.
She places a few drops on his palms, doing the same on yours, and then Ron's.
You rub your hands together as Harry continues speaking.
"He knows if we can find and destroy all the Horcruxes, we'll be able to kill him. I reckon he'll do anything to stop that happening." Harry finishes and you scowl at the thought.
Soon, the boys begin stripping so they may change into dry clothes.
Hermione instead retrieves a large blanket from her bag, she drapes it over you, before pulling you close to her body so she may share your warmth.
"There's more– one of them's at Hogwarts." Harry explains.
"What?" Ron says in disbelief and his friend only nods.
"You saw it?" Your girlfriend asks, skeptical.
Harry nods again.
"I saw the castle, and Rowena Ravenclaw. It must have something to do with her, we have to go there now." The Chosen One states, assuredly.
"What? We can't do that, we've got to plan, we've got to figure it out." Hermione counters.
"Hermione when have any of our plans ever actually worked?" Harry recounts, his gaze shifting between y/n, Hermione and Ron.
"We plan, we go there, all hell breaks lose." The dark haired man states, and neither of you have an argument, he was stating the plain truth.
"He's right– just one problem." Ron starts.
"Snape's headmaster now, we can't just walk through the front door."
Then there's a pause.
You can feel Hermione shivering against you, you swiftly wrap an arm around her, an attempt to keep her as close as possible.
"Well, then we'll go to Hogsmeade. To Honeydukes– take the secret passage." Harry offers a solution, and you nod in agreement.
"I think– there's something wrong with him–" He adds, and the three of you wait for Harry to explain.
"In the past, I've always been able to follow his thoughts– now everything just sort of feels disconnected." The dark haired man says, he adjusts the glasses on his face.
"Maybe it's the Horcruxes? Maybe he's growing weaker, maybe he's dying?" Ron suggests but Harry was quick to shake his head.
"No, it's more like he's wounded. If anything he feels more dangerous." Harry states plainly, and now you are shivering for an entirely different reason.
Hermione glances at you, as you exhange a look, you can't help but acknowledge that all too familiar sense of impotence as it looms over all of you.
The uncertainty and impending doom; it feels as though the more Horcruxes you uncover, the more uncertain the end seems.
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cherryslyce · 1 year
Text
Second Son (III) | Regulus Black
Series Synopsis: Forbidden from contacting Harry over the summer, you opt to explore the eerie halls of Grimmauld Place where you stumble upon a lonely portrait of the House's second son.
— Chapter Synopsis: The school year begins and all seems lost when Undersecretary Umbridge is assigned as the new DADA professor. That is until Hermione and Ron approach Harry and Y/N with the idea to form Dumbledore's Army (Regulus disapproves, naturally).
Part II / Part IV / Series Masterlist
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Pairing: Regulus Black x GN!Reader
Notes: Cursing, Not Canon Compliant
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The talk with Sirius and Co. was tiresome. Actually, talk was a lenient way to put it, it was much more of an interrogation. Apparently, Sirius and Kreacher got into a spat (what a surprise) and the house elf let it slip that you had "found Master Regulus".
Hermione and Ron tried to dissuade Sirius from making it into a big deal, but alas they were unsuccessful (not to mention they wanted answers as well).
Luckily, Sirius had very little faith in Kreacher and you only told him that you found old photos of Regulus, and Kreacher happened to stumble upon your discovery.
Kreacher was very willing to corroborate your story in order to get back in your--Regulus‘, good graces.
For now, your explanation satisfied the others, but you knew that Harry had an idea that there was more to the story than you were letting on. Fortunately, Harry had always been a loyal friend and he wouldn't push you to tell him anything if you didn't want to.
It seemed you had a penchant for finding reliable friends.
Regulus was displeased with the turn of events and looked ready to scold a mournful Kreacher, but opted to just let out a disgruntled sigh.
"It doesn't matter anymore, I knew you'd be able to take care of it." Was what he told you after Kreacher left with a grateful cry.
Summer receded off the coast and autumn began to roll onto London, first painting the trees in kaleidoscopes of oranges before bringing tides of cool wind.
Your fifth year at Hogwarts was about to kick off and you were practically bouncing around at the prospect of being able to bring Regulus with you.
"Harry's hearing went just as I presumed it would."
"Oh? Looking to take up a post as Hogwarts Divination Professor, Reg?"
The boy merely rolled his eyes, deciding to grace you with the gift of an answer despite your smart mouth.
"It was obvious that Fudge would aim to discredit Harry. But, Dumbledore is quite the political force, and many are still willing to side with Harry even if they think he's lying about the Dark Lord. Harry may not feel it though. Bad press will always stand louder than uncertain support."
Ever the intellect.
"I guess so. Harry's still riled about it, but there's not much he can do since he was cleared of his charges. Merlin forbid he was expelled. I can't even imagine how dismal Hogwarts would be without everyone's favorite lion."
You continued to pack away your textbooks in your school trunk, murmuring tiredly under your breath at the idea of the inevitable increase in workload and the studying for O.W.L's.
"Are you excited?"
"Reg, you do understand that we face a new threat every single year, correct? Of course I'm excited."
There was no sarcasm in your tone, and you were being completely honest. Threats to your life would only serve to teach you further about the constraints and possibilities of magic. After all, you were certain the Dark Lord would stop at nothing until you were all dead, so you might as well learn as much as you can in the meantime.
"Just be cautious."
"Are you getting soft on me, Reggie? If you keep going I might think you actually care for me."
"Don't be daft, you know how I feel. Now, don't forget about the pouch I gave you."
You weren't going to antagonize him because you were almost certain he did care for you, but you weren't sure if you'd live long enough for him to actually tell you.
Reaching for the emerald green pouch laid atop your bed, you eagerly pulled it open. You never got the chance to examine its contents due to being interrogated by Sirius, but you were sure it was something important because of Regulus‘ insistence that you take it with you.
Reaching inside, you feel around the velvet interior until you feel something cool press against your fingertips.
Pulling it out, you gape as you realized it was a ring. A thick silver band with two snakes wrapping around it.
"Reg?"
"It's a gift. It was the ring I usually wore around in my youth. It's charmed to heat up when someone tries to use legilimency on you or when you're near poison. It served me well, now it will help you."
You twirl the band around your fingers and a small smile paints your lips as you try to suppress the burning in your eyes.
"Thank you Reg. I'm touched that you trust me so much with your possessions. I guess now I really have no excuse if I die."
"Exactly. So try your best--no, you have to live." His eyes were hard with conviction before they softened again when you nodded, "Good. You should put it on later, Sirius will definitely recognize it."
You couldn't find it in yourself to move on from Regulus‘ gift, even now as you were weaving around people.
The ring pressed gently against your chest as you walked with Harry down King's Cross, your new precious item was hidden away underneath your shirt on a necklace chain.
Regulus was tucked away inside your jacket like usual, the rectangular frame occasionally hitting against your ribs as you moved.
Sirius was paces away in his animagus form, too reluctant to let Harry leave with a simple goodbye at the door. You were happy that Harry had such a supportive adult figure in his life, but a part of you couldn't help but want him to leave quickly so you could slip on the ring.
The dog-man quickly trotted into an empty seating room, Harry leaving your side to talk to his godfather. As Moody and Tonks guarded the doorway of the room, you opted to give the aurors a brief nod before making your way to the platform first.
You admired them both to a varying degree, but you couldn't quite warm up to Moody after your Fourth Year debacle with his death eater imposter.
It was still hard to get the image of him, or rather the image of polyjuice him, making Neville uncomfortable in class.
Navigating your way around the swarm of people, soon you found yourself on the familiar platform.
Reaching into your shirt, you pulled out your necklace chain, twirling it around your neck before unclasping it and sliding Regulus‘ ring out.
It was a pretty thing, and you found yourself imagining the two snakes on the band as you and Regulus.
Propping your trunk up against one of the brick pillars, you fix your necklace before slipping the ring onto your left index finger, spelling it to fit you.
Thank merlin for magic.
Raising your hand up towards the sky, you observe the way the sunlight reflects off the silver. As you continued to admire it, you realized that someone's stopped beside you.
"Merlin! Harry?!"
The boy in question jumps at your exclamation, the distant look in his eyes being drowned out by realization. It was apparent that he was only present enough to recognize you in the crowd, but too lost in thought to realize what was going on.
"Oh, sorry. Should we board now?"
Without waiting for an answer, he reaches behind you and lugs your trunk behind him, starting to get lost in his head again as he walks towards the train.
As the both of you sit and wait for Hermione and Ron, he wordlessly reaches into his pocket, pulling out a folded photo. He hands it to you with a forlorn look in his eyes, watching as you carefully unfold the paper.
Are those?
As if reading your thoughts, he supplies you with a quiet answer, "My parents. And the Order."
"Fuck. From Sirius?"
"Yeah."
"Fuck."
Running your finger over the smiling faces of Lily and James Potter, you send a silent thank you for their sacrifice.
Your concern for Harry only ceased once you arrived at the castle.
Sitting down in the dining hall brought a surge of serotonin through your body. It was the closest thing you had to a home and being able to greet the cold walls and aged windows after every summer brought you great joy.
Looking in Harry's direction, you frown in concern as you see him eyeing the staff table in shock. Your confusion is swept away as a high-pitched voice cuts through Dumbledore's welcome speech.
A woman who was strangely reminiscent of a toad carefully made her way around the table and towards Dumbledore. From the way Harry began to furiously whisper to Hermione, you were certain that she was the reason for his sudden change in behavior.
Dumbledore and Snape looked faintly displeased with her interruption and your eyes started to hurt from the abomination of pink monotone that made her stand out.
You had an unfortunate feeling that the source of your fifth year misery had arrived.
And you were correct. Of course.
It had only been a week into your classes and you were seething violently, much like the rest of your friends.
"And do you know what she said Reggie?"
"What?" He mused in curiosity, his eyes alight at your foreign frustration.
"We're only going to be learning the theories! Because apparently if we know the theories well enough, the application of spells will just magically come to us!"
Your hands were flying around wildly as you recalled her words, your body bouncing around on your bed due to your gestures.
Regulus chuckled at your despair, eyes twinkling brightly like he had just received the best news of his life.
"Yeah, yeah, laugh it off. I'm glad my misery is enjoyable to you, but I'm being serious! I just don't know what we should do! The DADA curse is really screwing us over here."
Seeming to take pity on your genuine distress, he begins to placate you, "Y/N, it's fine. I'll teach you if you want. Just tell me what spells and theories you're covering and I'll guide you."
Oh?
The grin that stretches across your face almost hurts and you fall back onto your bed, letting his offer run around your head with a content sigh.
"Y/N? Have you died?"
"Still here." Your answer comes out muffled as you bring your hand to cover your bright smile.
"Don't seem too happy, I'm a strict teacher."
"Yeah, yeah. Reg. I could kiss you right now! Seriously, thank you, you're too good to me."
Regulus doesn't respond to your words and he was sure that you weren't even aware of what you were saying, but he was glad you couldn't hear the way his heart was racing.
"No matter, just get some sleep."
"Hm? What will you do then? It's still pretty early."
"I'll just watch over you like always. Prop me up on your nightstand would you, I want to see outside."
"Yes, yes. Anything else you require my liege?" Your teasing is met with a deadpan look as you carefully rest his portrait frame against the stack of books on your nightstand.
"Y/N, sleep."
You let out an indignant huff and turn your body towards your bedside, facing Regulus as he begins to gaze outside your dorm window. Luckily, your nightstand was on the far end of the dorm room and would be out of view from anyone coming through.
"Goodnight, Reg."
"Sweet dreams, Y/N."
Luckily, slumber came quickly that night.
You should have known that your brief period of rest would soon be interrupted. It was basically the first warning that came attached to being involved with the Golden Trio. You just didn't realize that your peace would be disturbed the very next day.
"Are you positive that this is a great idea?"
"If Umbridge refuses to teach us, we need someone who will."
You stare at Hermione in consideration, "And that person is Harry?"
She nods confidently, her eyes blazing in determination. Clearly, they were going to move forward with this plan whether or not you were in.
"Okay. So Hog's Head then?"
"Yes. We can't possibly manage to keep this under wraps inside the castle walls. We'll come by and get you tomorrow."
"Merlin ‘Mione. I hope that this turns out well. For all of our sakes."
"It has to. Sirius said it himself, You Know Who is on the move."
Bloody Dark Lord and his murderous agenda spoiling your years of childhood.
There wasn't much that needed to be said after that and you both bid each other a quick farewell. You quickly headed to your dorm and let out a sigh of relief to see the room empty.
Plopping down on your bed, you flip open the charms textbook Regulus recommended, eyes darting around for a possible communication charm.
This was going to take forever, might as well get some help.
Fishing around your robes, you pull out Regulus‘ portrait and beam down at his unimpressed face.
"There's no way you're actually considering running along with that ragtag defense club now, are you?" Isn't he just pleasant today.
"Nice to see you too, Reg. Hermione's idea sounds interesting enough, besides friends need to support each other's endeavors."
Regulus looked like he was a few moments away from releasing a snort, but just shook his head. His neat curls jumped around his face and you had to stop yourself from getting too entranced by the sight.
"I suppose that makes sense, after all I would do the same for you. Though, you are already learning from me, no?" Regulus‘ words made your heart skip a beat, but you tried your best to play it off.
"Yes, and as much as I love Harry, you will always be my number one teacher." He looked all too pleased by your words and you shook your head fondly, "Don't let it get to your head though. Now, let's read through this book together, shall we?"
And as you both read through the pages of the book, you couldn't help but selfishly want more. You couldn't help but wonder how different everything would be if Regulus wasn't a portrait, but rather alive and well and attending Hogwarts with you.
It just added to your fury towards Voldemort. He had taken enough from the world, and you couldn't wait to drive a curse through him and live the rest of your life in peace.
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tag list: @krazyk99 @venomsvl @valsarchives @bunny24sstuff @novella12nite
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whinlatter · 1 year
Text
Harry’s thoughts of Ginny in the Forest: a meta
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‘Nothing too big, because you wouldn't be able to take it with you... I wanted you to have something to remember me by.' - DH, p. 99 (UK edition)
Here I am, on a rainy Thursday, doing re-reads for some writing and thinking about the parallels between Harry and Ginny's kiss on his birthday, and Harry’s thoughts of Ginny as he goes to his death. 
I’m thinking differently about Ginny’s motivations for the kiss these days. I used to think about her words to Harry that morning, and the act of kissing him, as a promise she’ll wait for when he comes back. Lately, I’m wondering if it’s not something sadder, and more profound. I think what Ginny does on Harry’s seventeenth is the act of a person who is starting to process the fact that the person she loves is likely going to his death — that he might not be coming back. It's a scene of a person bracing for grief and thinking about love after death, and it will set the stage for how Harry meets his own death in the Forest.
So here’s a much-too-long meta to help me think through these ideas - about the kiss, Ginny’s suspicions about Harry’s fate, and what it means that Harry returns to the memory of Ginny at the end of his life. (Stick the kettle on for this one and if you worked this all out long ago before me, just give me an eye roll and forgive me).
I’ve always taken Ginny's words to Harry before their kiss at face value. I thought of it not quite as a fun scene - it’s certainly sad - but sweet, a little sexy, and sort of reckless, even a bit mischievous on Ginny’s part.
It’s the birthday of the boy Ginny loves. They’re not together anymore. She knows he's going away. She wants to give him a birthday present, but she doesn't want to give him something he has to haul around or might lose. She does want to let him know that, despite their separation, her feelings are still the same. She craves a moment with him before he goes. She is still in love with him, she is deeply attracted to him, and part of her still feels a bit possessive. Although she’s not really concerned Harry’s going to crack on with some Veela, she does want him to have a memento of their time together. She wants him to have a happy memory, of physical intimacy and emotional comfort, to keep him going while he's away, to feel less alone.
Most of all, I used to think of the kiss (and whatever Ginny imagined might come after the kiss) as a promise. I still love you. Even though we’re not together and I respect why you have to go, I’m still all in on this. I’ll wait for you for when you come back. I want you to have the memory of this, as proof.
Harry’s reveal
But the more I’ve thought about it, the more I think about the context of when this kiss happens, after Harry and Ginny's last conversation before his birthday. It's the one a few days before, when Harry and Ginny are laying the table for dinner, and Harry lets slip to Ginny what he, Ron and Hermione will be doing when they leave:
'‘And then what does she think’s going to happen?’ Harry muttered. ‘Someone else might kill off Voldemort while she’s holding us here making vol-au-vents?’ He had spoken without thinking, and saw Ginny’s face whiten.‘So it’s true?’ she said. ‘That’s what you’re trying to do? ‘I - not - I was joking,’ said Harry evasively. (DH, 78-9, UK edition)
This is a desperately sad scene, but it’s also an important moment. Harry, so used to having his guard down with Ginny, realises he’s accidentally confessed something big: that he’s going on the run to try and kill Voldemort himself, with Ron and Hermione’s help. 
Ginny is shaken by this. As a character, she tends to either take things in her stride, or yells first, processes later. But this catches her off guard. Her words suggest there has been speculation about what it is the three of them are going off to do (‘So it’s true?’ suggests that Ginny, and perhaps other members of her family or the Order, have been speculating about this for some time). But both she and Harry realise here that he’s flippantly confirmed something huge that Ginny did not already know for sure. He’s spoken aloud the task is that Dumbledore has left him. 
It is a sign of how close Harry feels to Ginny, how safe he feels in her company, and how difficult he finds managing keeping secrets from her, that he lets this slip. He won’t come as close to telling the truth to anyone else, even people he trusts. The scene before this, in his conversation with Mrs Weasley, he didn’t let on nearly as much (though he admits that he found affirming the importance of secrecy difficult when he looked at Mrs Weasley and saw Ginny’s eyes staring back at him):
‘Well, Dumbledore left me . . . stuff to do,’ mumbled Harry. ‘Ron and Hermione know about it, and they want to come too.’ ‘What sort of ‘stuff’?’  ‘I’m sorry, I can’t—’  ‘Well, frankly I think Arthur and I have a right to know, and I’m sure Mr. and Mrs. Granger would agree!’ said Mrs. Weasley. Harry had been afraid of the “concerned parent” attack. He forced himself to look directly into her eyes, noticing as he did that they were precisely the same shade of brown as Ginny’s. This did not help… ‘Dumbledore didn’t want anyone else to know, Mrs. Weasley (…)  I didn’t misunderstand,’ said Harry flatly. ‘It’s got to be me.’ (DH, 77-8)
Later, he’ll also refuse to give any information to Lupin, for the same reason. 
'‘Can you confide in me what the mission is?’  Harry looked into the prematurely lined face, framed in thick but greying hair, and wished that he could return a different answer.  ‘I can’t, Remus, I’m sorry. If Dumbledore didn’t tell you I don’t think I can.’  ‘I thought you’d say that,’ said Lupin, looking disappointed.’ (DH, 173-4)
But with Ginny, he’s accidentally gone much further. He hasn’t said Horcruxes, but he’s as good as. The trio are setting off to try to kill Voldemort, the most dangerous task imaginable in this war. He tries, in vain, to undo it, but the damage is already done. Ginny knows more now than she did before: that the journey he’s about to go on is one that very likely will claim his life. 
What does Ginny know about Harry’s fate before this moment? 
It's clear from this interaction that Harry has never discussed any of this with Ginny before. In their breakup scene, Harry repeatedly said that he was breaking up with her for her own safety. He said he did not want her to be used as bait, as she already had been previously, and as Sirius was: 'Think how much danger you'll be in if we keep this up...' (HBP, 602). The focus was entirely on the risk to Ginny's life, a risk Harry says he cannot live with.
Ginny’s remarks at Dumbledore’s funeral told us something about how she, at that point, understood the path ahead for Harry. She made her half-joke that Harry was always busy saving the Wizarding World, and says she thinks he 'would never be happy', never fulfilled or satisfied, unless he were 'hunting Voldemort' (HBP, 603). She showed she interpreted his actions as choices being made by someone brave, determined, and personally committed to bringing about the end of Voldemort, not someone destined to. Harry’s motivations and reasons are ones she respects and empathises with. She knows the path ahead is dangerous. She doesn’t yet think of it as lethal. 
Harry didn’t respond to her assessments at the funeral, neither correcting nor confirming them. He didn’t let her know, at that stage, exactly what it is he is going to set off to do. The closest Harry came to revealing the road ahead for him in the break-up scene was this:
'It’s been like… like something out of someone else’s life, these last few weeks with you,' said Harry. 'But I can’t… we can’t… I’ve got things to do alone now.' She did not cry, she simply looked at him.’  (HBP, 602)
This is a pattern throughout their relationship, both as friends and later as romantic partners. Ginny knows a little, but not a lot, about Harry’s path. She thinks of it almost entirely as a decision he has made himself. Conversations about Harry’s destiny - about the Prophecy, about being the Chosen One, and, eventually, about the Horcrux hunt - happen near Ginny, but never with her. She does not seem to believe that Harry is the Chosen One or in any way bound to Voldemort's own fate. At the start of HBP, on the train in Slughorn’s carriage, Ginny states publicly her belief that any speculation about Harry being the Chosen One is nonsense: 
‘We never heard a prophecy,” said Neville, turning geranium pink as he said it. ‘That’s right,’ said Ginny staunchly. ‘Neville and I were both there too, and all this ‘Chosen One’ rubbish is just the Prophet making things up as usual.’ (HBP, 140)
Ultimately, before DH, Ginny has been given very little information. We can assume that she’s decided to respect Harry’s decision to keep any information from her and not to push for it. She has reason to fear he might be in danger, but she doesn’t yet know the full extent of it.
Ginny’s response
The immediate aftermath of Harry’s confession at the Burrow is very telling. 
‘They stared at each other, and there was something more than shock in Ginny’s expression. Suddenly Harry became aware that this was the first time that he had been alone with her since their stolen hours in secluded corners of the Hogwarts grounds. He was sure she was remembering them too.’ - DH (79)
It’s important that, immediately after this confession, Harry’s mind immediately takes him to private time spent alone with Ginny at the end of HBP. His certainty that Ginny, too, is reminiscing about them is typical of their wordless displays of understanding. They both reach for memories. And the memories of the last time he was alone with her, when they were still together, suddenly trigger an intense emotional and sexual tension. They are soon interrupted, and the dinner afterwards is extremely awkward. Harry wishes he were further away from Ginny, and tries, with great difficulty, to avoid touching her at the dinner table. The energy between them is intense and charged, anticipatory and frustrated. There are lots of ‘unsaid things’ that have just passed between them, and both are aware of it (DH, 79).
There are important themes being introduced here. Whenever Harry thinks about memories of his time with Ginny in DH, he does so consistently in two clear ways. To him, those times were private, intensely intimate moments which carried huge personal significance. It is strongly implied those were moments of sexual intimacy between the two of them, and where they shared an emotional closeness neither has found with any other character. But those moments with Ginny are also something Harry feels he was wrong to take. His relationship with her was something that, in retrospect, he embarked upon against his better judgement. He now feels it was something he was not entitled to, on account of his own burdens and obligations. Those were ‘stolen hours’ that were ‘something out of someone else’s life’. If we look to the wedding scene, we can see this most clearly:
‘‘Yes, my tiara sets off the whole thing nicely,’ said Auntie Muriel in a rather carrying whisper. ‘But I must say, Ginevra’s dress is far too low cut.’  Ginny glanced around, grinning, winked at Harry, then quickly faced the front again. Harry’s mind wandered a long way from the marquee, back to afternoons spent alone with Ginny in lonely parts of the school grounds. They seemed so long ago; they had always seemed too good to be true, as though he had been stealing shining hours from a normal person’s life, a person without a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead…’ (DH, 121) 
There are certain tropes at play here, that will that recur again and again in Harry’s thoughts of Ginny until the point of his death: the memory of time alone, the feeling of shared emotional and physical intimacy, to an intense degree; the sense of their time together being something stolen, both in the sense of it being snatched from within darker times, but also being forbidden, given with Harry’s fate when it comes to Voldemort. That Harry recalls these moments at a moment as two other characters make lifelong vows of marriage to each other is not insignificant: all is set up to maximise the sense of tragedy.
Ginny processing Harry’s fate
Ginny is not naive. Harry’s confession seems to change something about how she thinks about what he’s about to do. She may once have dismissed the prophecy of Harry as the Chosen One as nonsense. But she now has reason to suspect that might not quite be true.
She may well re-trace what she does know. After all, she was at the Department of Mysteries two summers prior, where she learnt that Voldemort, at least, thinks there is a prophecy of significance that involves Harry directly. She knows Harry has been having one-on-one lessons with Dumbledore: she even gave him one of the invitations (HBP, 228). She also knows that Harry and Dumbledore left school for a secret mission alone on the night the Astronomy Tower was attacked and Dumbledore was killed. She observed how Harry saw Dumbledore’s death as a catalyst to prepare for a path that required him to step back from her. Above all, we also know that Ginny is a character who understands Tom Riddle intimately. She is one of the people who comes closest to understanding the stakes of your life being bound, in some way, to Voldemort.
It is also significant that Ginny is a character canonically intrigued, and touched, by death, and by powerful Dark magic. The diary, and her own near-death experience, is the most obvious example. But in the Department of Mysteries during OotP, we are told she is also one of the characters most drawn to the veil, despite having far less direct experience of loss and grief than Harry, Luna, or even Neville:
‘[Harry] took several paces back from the dais and wrenched his eyes from the veil. ‘Let’s go,’ he said. ‘That’s what I’ve been trying to — well, come on, then!’ said Hermione, and she led the way back around the dais. On the other side, Ginny and Neville were staring, apparently entranced, at the veil too. Without speaking, Hermione took hold of Ginny’s arm, Ron Neville’s, and they marched them firmly back to the lowest stone bench and clambered all the way back up to the door.’ (OotP, 775)
I don’t mean to suggest Ginny knew what was coming for Harry, that she foresaw him having to go to his death. She knows nothing of Horcruxes, she doesn’t know the contents of the Prophecy, and she certainly doesn’t know Harry himself is a Horcrux. Harry, of course, doesn’t yet know the certainty of him going to his own death, at this point in the text. But given the information she alone has been handed, inadvertently, by Harry, she has plenty of reason to begin to suspect the path Harry is on is one that might end in death, moreso for him than for an anyone else in this war.
Ginny doesn’t appear much in the following pages, other than in her role helping to prepare the house for the wedding. Over the next few days, she has lots of time to consider Harry’s words. We know she’s also sharing a bedroom with Hermione, who is actively preparing for their imminent departure, and watching the three of them try to sneak off together to make plans. This is time for Ginny to start to digest the information Harry has unwittingly divulged. She can now begin to think about how she ought to respond to the prospect of him leaving for a mission that will, likely, cost him his life.
The kiss itself
We can see Ginny has planned this interaction with Harry in her bedroom. The false casualness of how the scene opens - ‘Harry, can you come in here a moment?’ - and the actions of the bedroom’s other occupant, Hermione, suggests some level of premeditation and collaboration. For the first time, Ginny brings him into her bedroom, with the door closed. The setting is obviously intimate and suggestive.
Harry describes Ginny as seeming nervous, but purposeful, like she is readying herself for something - she ‘[takes] a deep breath’. She is looking at him ‘steadily’. Harry is nervous, too: he cannot bring himself to look at her, finding it almost painful, like ‘gazing into a brilliant light’ (DH, 98). Her trademark blazing look is in full force. She doesn’t entertain his attempts at small talk: she is serious about what she’s about to do.
‘‘I couldn’t think what to get you,’ she said.  ‘You didn’t have to get me anything.’ She disregarded this too.’ (DH, 98-9)
Ginny opens by revealing how difficult it has been for her to work out what she could give him, under the circumstances. She is, in her own way, acknowledging how hard she is finding processing what it is he has to do now. She has been struggling with the prospect of Harry’s departure, and the possibility, even the likelihood, of his death. But she has decided she wants to make that path easier for him. Despite his reassurance, she insists she wanted to give him something. 
‘‘I didn’t know what would be useful. Nothing too big, because you wouldn’t be able to take it with you.” He chanced a glance at her. She was not tearful...' (99)
These lines are so significant. The first two lines in particular are deeply profound. They read very differently to how I first thought of them, if seen in this light. I didn’t know what would be useful, she says, because she doesn't know what she can say that will be useful. What could possibly make this easier, to help Harry think about the enormity of his situation, or to help guide him on a path requiring him to accept his own likely death? 
She doesn’t want what she gives to him now to be too heavy, too sad, or too serious, because she knows Harry will not be able to deal with it (‘nothing too big’). Anything too declaratory, too sentimental, or too enormous, would be impossible for him to leave with. In the last part of the sentence, her words are deliberately vague: because you wouldn’t be able to take it with you. 
I think this is the most poignant part, and it suggests the part of Ginny's mind that believes in, and is curious about, what happens beyond, after death: the voices on the other side of the veil. I think there is some part of her that thinks Harry might be going somewhere she can’t reach him - what Dumbledore will later call going on. Ginny does not openly speculate about where Harry will be taking whatever she gives him. That it could be to his own grave, or beyond, is left unspoken. He looks at her, finally, after these words, because he seems to understand, on some level, what she is trying to say to him.
‘She took a step closer to him. ‘So then I thought, I’d like you to have something to remember me by, you know, if you meet some veela when you’re off doing whatever you’re doing.’’ (DH, 99)
Ginny has decided: the thing she will give him is a memory, one that he can take with him when they part. Something to remember me by. She wants the memory of her, of them, to be useful, to serve him in some way, and to be something that he might be able to take on with him after death. She tries to soften what she’s trying to convey, with the joke about the veela. But both seem to understand what she is really saying: that she isn’t really asking for his loyalty or fidelity. She doesn’t say she’s giving him ‘something to remember me by’ for when he comes back and they can be together again. Her words are very final. The joke is supposed to make it easier for him to hear what she is saying: she’s telling him, quietly, how to think about her when he leaves, whatever leaving might mean.
Harry, for his part, continues the joke. (‘I think dating opportunities are going to be pretty thin on the ground, to be honest.’) She plays along, sort of, in a very sad way (‘there’s the silver lining I’ve been looking for’). But both seem to know that there is no real silver lining to this. 
And then there’s the kiss itself: 
‘There’s the silver lining I’ve been looking for,’ she whispered, and then she was kissing him as she had never kissed him before, and Harry was kissing her back, and it was blissful oblivion, better than Firewhisky; she was the only real thing in the world, Ginny, the feel of her, one hand at her back and one in her long, sweet-smelling hair —’ (DH, 99)
It all comes to a head here. Harry recognises that this kiss feels exceptional, unlike any other they’ve ever shared - that Ginny has never put so much into a kiss before. It is ‘blissful oblivion’, this moment of extraordinary intensity, where she kisses him and allows him, for a moment, to think only about her and them together. It’s heady and sexual (‘the feel of her’). It’s a gift for Harry  to be able to forget everything and let this moment be a vacuum, to focus only on her. The crescendo effect of the short causes and run-on sentences allows the moment to build and build, a crescendo effect that anticipates something to come. 
Of course, their moment gets interrupted, again. Unlike when Ron interrupted her with Dean, Ginny doesn't rage at him this time: she is subdued, a response that is far more appropriate for her processing the fact that she may have just had her final kiss with the boy she loves. Harry suspects she has started to cry, something he notes is out of character. Ginny had imbued a lot of meaning into this interaction: this is a portrait of a character whose heart is breaking.
When Harry and Ron are discussing the kiss outside on the lawn, after the initial shock of being yelled at by Ron for going anywhere near Ginny, Harry has his own, shattering realisation of what all of this means for himself and Ginny:
‘Yeah, but you go snogging her now and she’s just going to get her hopes up again—’ ‘She’s not an idiot, she knows it can’t happen, she’s not expecting us to— to end up married, or—’  As he said it, a vivid picture formed in Harry’s mind of Ginny in a white dress, marrying a tall, faceless, and unpleasant stranger. In one spiralling moment it seemed to hit him: Her future was free and unencumbered, whereas his . . . he could see nothing but Voldemort ahead.’ (DH, 100)
Thinking aloud, Harry says it would be idiotic for he or Ginny to imagine they could be together, either now, or at any point in the future. He expects her to find someone else; he cannot even begin to imagine a future for himself after the task set out for him. He does not say his inevitable death - he has not yet embraced that reality - but he remains caught in the certainty of an existential battle with Voldemort that he knows he may well not survive.
Later that day, Harry will receive the snitch from Dumbledore’s will. Though he doesn’t know it yet, he now holds the resurrection stone, the item that will open at the close in the forest. It is a birthday that starts and ends with hints about what little time he has left: the stage is set for an arc that, now, has to end in his own death.
Foreshadowing Ginny and the Forest
Moments foreshadowing the significance of the forest are all over Deathly Hallows. Sometimes, they mirror the moment of his own death; often, they are related to Ginny. When they leave the Ministry, with Ron splinched, clutching the Horcrux locket, they arrive in a forest. For a moment Harry’s heart ‘leaped’ at the thought that they were back in Hogwarts’ grounds, the site of so much of his earlier happiness with Ginny (DH, 221). When the trio hear that Ginny, Neville and Luna tried to steal the sword of Gryffindor, it is the Forbidden Forest they are sent to by Snape as punishment (248-9). Harry does not fear the Forest, and is consoled by the thought of Ginny serving detention there rather than anywhere else.
In the Forest of Dean, the scene where Ron returns begins with Harry thinking of Ginny. He sits at the mouth of the tent, wanting to look for Ginny on the Marauders’ Map, until he remembers it’s Christmastime and she is at the Burrow (297). Later, in a moment that mirrors his later walk to his death, he follows his mother - Snape’s patronus, the doe - into the woods, in order to recover and destroy the Horcrux, inching Harry’s own life closer to its close:
Though the darkness had swallowed her whole, [the doe’s] burnished image was still imprinted on his retinas; it obscured his vision, brightening when he lowered his eyelids, disorienting him. Now fear came: Her presence had meant safety. “Lumos!” he whispered, and the wand-tip ignited. The imprint of the doe faded away with every blink of his eyes as he stood there, listening to the sounds of the forest, to distant crackles of twigs…  He held the wand higher. Nobody ran out at him, no flash of green light burst from behind a tree. Why, then, had she led him to this spot?’ (DH, 299)
Foreshadowing Harry's end in the Forest means also foreshadowing Ginny's own appearance at the moment of his death.
Harry’s ‘death’ in the Forest 
In the final battle, Ginny is the last person Harry sees before he begins his walk into the Forest. He takes the words she says to the child on the ground as her final act of comfort. Harry hears them as if they are being spoken to him: 
‘He was feet away from her when he realised it was Ginny.  He stopped in his tracks. She was crouching over a girl who was whispering for her mother.  ‘It’s all right,’ Ginny was saying. ‘It’s okay. We’re going to get you inside.’  ‘But I want to go home,’ whispered the girl. ‘I don’t want to fight anymore!’ ‘I know,’ said Ginny, and her voice broke. ‘It’s going to be all right.’  Ripples of cold undulated over Harry’s skin. He wanted to shout out to the night, he wanted Ginny to know that he was there, he wanted her to know where he was going. He wanted to be stopped, to be dragged back, to be sent back home (...) Ginny was kneeling beside the injured girl now, holding her hand. With a huge effort Harry forced himself on. He thought he saw Ginny look around as he passed, and wondered whether she had seen someone walking nearby, but he did not speak, and he did not look back.’ (DH, 558-9)
Harry believes that this is his final moment with Ginny before he goes to die. A part of him wants her to know that it’s happening: he is leaving, at last. But he can't call to her, because he worries she will try and stop him, and he might let her. Instead, he walks on, and doesn’t look back. After watching Ginny comfort the girl crying for her mother, Harry then goes on to the Forest, and summons his own mother, his own family, to walk with him to his death.  
‘His body and mind felt oddly disconnected now, his limbs working without conscious instruction, as if he were passenger, not driver, in the body he was about to leave. The dead who walked beside him through the forest were much more real to him now that the living back at the castle: Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and all the others were the ones who felt like ghosts as he stumbled and slipped toward the end of his life, toward Voldemort. . . .' (DH, 561-2)
Harry is already preparing to go on from this world: his living loved ones are the ones he now feels furthest from. He stands now with the dead he has summoned, who recognise him and seem to have memories of him. He doesn't fear the dead: he is going to join them.
It’s the death scene itself that I think has subtle, but important parallels with the kiss scene much earlier. In both imagery and in writing style, the scene recalls that earlier moment, where Harry found himself on the edge of another kind of oblivion. There is this mounting, febrile sense of anticipation. There is a tension that is almost sexual, a dynamic injected into the scene through descriptions of Bellatrix’s body language and behaviour towards Voldemort:
‘Bellatrix, who had leapt to her feet, was looking eagerly from Voldemort to Harry, her breast heaving. The only things that moved were the flames and the snake, coiling and uncoiling in the glittering cage behind Voldemort’s head.’  (DH, 564)
The ugly parallel of Bellatrix and Voldemort is not supposed to show the pair as the mirror image of Harry and Ginny. Rather, it is a theme that recurs throughout the series to demonstrate the gulf between Harry, with his immense capacity for love, and Voldemort, with none. Bellatrix and Ginny are memorably paralleled twice in the series: once, at the Department of Mysteries, where Bellatrix moves to ‘torture the little girl’, and Harry steps in to prevent her (OotP, 783), and again in the final battle: 
'Bellatrix was still fighting too, fifty yards away from Voldemort, and like her master she dueled three at once: Hermione, Ginny, and Luna, all battling their hardest, but Bellatrix was equal to them, and Harry’s attention was diverted as a Killing Curse shot so close to Ginny that she missed death by an inch—  He changed course, running at Bellatrix rather than Voldemort, but before he had gone a few steps he was knocked sideways…’ (DH, 589)
As Harry waits for the killing curse, we see the most direct parallel with Ginny's final kiss to him:
‘None of the Death Eaters moved. They were waiting: everything was waiting. Hagrid was struggling, and Bellatrix was panting, and Harry thought inexplicably of Ginny, and her blazing look, and the feel of her lips on his — ’ (DH, 564)
There's such an intense physicality and breathlessness to the whole scene, and an enduring pseudo-sexual tension, with Bellatrix audibly panting. Even the sentence structure even invokes the kissing scene: the run-on build up of clauses, the repetition of the present participle to actively hold the reader in one present moment, building and building and ending on a dash, the promise of something more.
At the end of his life, Harry returns to the memory Ginny gave him. She meant for it to be useful, if he was to go to his death. And at the close of his life he chooses to use it, as he prepares to leave her behind in this world and depart for the next. Just as the Resurrection Stone helped accept death, so too does the memory of Ginny. He feels the memory of her, the sensation of physical touch and of being kissed, the look she gives him that he knows as one of love and great courage. As he is killed, he remembers her last gift to him, the certainty of her love for him impressed upon him.
--
There's a line in OotP that I think is such an underrated line that sums up who Ginny is as a character. Harry is trying to get to Umbridge's fire to speak to Sirius when he thinks the latter is being tortured at the Ministry; Hermione suggests using Ginny and Luna as a distraction, despite Harry's objections:
'Though clearly struggling to understand what was going on, Ginny said immediately, ‘Yeah, we’ll do it,'... (OotP, 736)
This is who Ginny is. It's especially who she is to Harry, during the war. She doesn't fully know what's actually being asked of Harry (and, by extension, what is being asked of her, as the person who loves him, and who has most to lose if he is to die). But even when kept in the dark, she is enormously selfless, and her biggest act of bravery is extremely quiet. She keeps the secret Harry accidentally bestows on her, and she realises, in some sense, before he does, what it will likely mean for his life. She chooses to let him go on, knowing that he is loved, to make the path that he is on a little bit easier, even when she has realised that it will take him away from her for good.
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forestdeath1 · 18 days
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I see many Snape Stans (I dislike Snape but I see why he turned out the way he did) saying James sexually assaulted him, especially on TikTok, when it’s not the truth at all, we don’t know if he ever actually took off his pants because and it wasn’t his fault that Snape wasn’t wearing any trousers. While he did bully him he never sexually assaulted him, and so many people are now saying this and I’m just flabbergasted, why did no one read the books? Why does everyone get their informations off TikTok and Twitter?
I don't really like this topic, to be honest. But here's how I perceive it.
1. In the canon, as far as I remember, it wasn't even implied that wizards wore trousers under their robes. They all just wore their underwear. And Lupin says:
"Oh, that one had a great vogue during my time at Hogwarts," said Lupin reminiscently. "There were a few months in my fifth year when you couldn’t move for being hoisted into the air by your ankle."
"Yes," he said, "but he wasn't the only one. As I say, it was very popular. . . . You know how these spells come and go. . . ."
So Snape not only created this spell himself, but it also became popular at school. So many students were hanging upside down, showing off their underwear.
From this, we can infer that wizards perceived it slightly differently than we do now, and even than Harry. It was "fun" bullying, but nothing more. Even Lupin himself sounds like he's justifying it, although he probably got hung upside down too ("There were a few months in my fifth year when you couldn’t move for being hoisted into the air by your ankle.").
2. We don't know for sure if James ended up taking Snape's pants off. Logically speaking, JKR simply didn't describe it, assuming that he did. Given the time the book was written, she probably didn't intend to invest it with such a horrible meaning. This all happens in the 70s in the WW. For our time, of course, it's SA. And that's awful. But the perception of that time could leave its mark. For example, when I was in school, many things that are now considered "awful" were seen as "not so bad". Those who did those awful things back then didn't even really understand how awful their actions truly were. Society evolves and we increasingly respect people's personal psychological and physical boundaries. What we didn't perceive as SA back then is considered SA today. A simple example you've probably seen in movies, spanking children was considered normal and right. That's how society raised those people. Surely today those same people wouldn't spank their children, because they would understand it's bad.
So it's likely that nobody at school perceived this action as SA. Moreover, James always played to the crowd. And if he really, according to the author's intention, took Snape's pants off, and the whole school saw it as normal, and didn't start looking at James with disgust... it raises big questions for the school students, doesn't it? If my friend did this today, he wouldn't be my friend anymore. Most people would look at such a person with disgust. But James's popularity didn't diminish at all.
This brings us back to the fact that nobody back then saw it as worse than bullying. So the society of that time hadn't yet formed enough understanding of what SA was and how bad it was to expose someone else's genitals. So James didn't fully understand either how awful it was, much more awful than pink bubbles out of your mouth or doubling someone's head in size. So for them it was all on the same level — taking someone's pants off or making them hang upside down or doubling their head in size.
I'm not justifying it, but the wizarding world is pretty harsh. Neville was thrown out of a window, Harry almost killed Draco, Fred and George literally made a kid disappear for a week, and Hermione kept Rita Skeeter captive in a jar for over a month. All of this is awful, but the wizarding world operates by different moral standards.
If judged in terms of our morality, there are almost no morally pure characters in these books.
I especially don't understand Snape stans (I mean I like Snape, but I don’t understand their logic). In terms of our morality, both Snape and James deserve to be punished. Snape would have got a much bigger sentence for joining and helping a terrorist organisation. What are Snape stans trying to prove? That Snape was better? No, he wasn't. They're all arseholes in terms of the muggle world of 2024.
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mybutcheredtongue · 2 months
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I'll Love You 'til the Grass Around My Gravestone is Deceased
harry potter timeline sirius black x fem!reader
CHAPTER TWELVE (see full series list here)
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1993
"Oh, look, I see Harry coming this way," you say, pointing to the pair of footsteps with the label 'Harry Potter' moving in the direction of Remus' office.
Remus looks over from where he was fiddling with his suitcase.
Sure enough, Harry then knocks on Remus' open office door and you wave at him from your seat on his desk.
"Saw you coming, Harry," you say with a smile, pointing at the map.
"I just saw Hagrid," Harry says, looking at Remus. "And he said you'd resigned. It's not true, is it?"
"I'm afraid it is," Remus replies. He starts opening his desk drawers and taking out the contents. You pick up some of the papers, tapping them against the table to align them up, before handing them to Remus.
"Why?" says Harry. "The Ministry of Magic don't think you were helping Sirius, do they?"
Remus swiftly crosses the room and closes the door behind Harry.
"No, Professor Dumbledore managed to convince Fudge that I was trying to save your lives." He sighs. "That was the final straw for Severus. I think the loss of the Order of Merlin hit him hard. So he — er — accidentally let it slip that I am a werewolf this morning at breakfast."
You cough loudly, poorly concealing a muttered "Prick".
"You're not leaving just because of that!" Harry exclaims.
Remus shares a glance with you, smiling wryly.
"This time tomorrow, the owls will start arriving from parents — they will not want a werewolf teaching their children, Harry. And after last night, I see their point. I could have bitten any of you...that must never happen again."
"You're the best Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher we've ever had!" says Harry. "Don't go!"
Remus shakes his head and doesn't speak, continuing to empty his drawers.
"Believe me, Harry, I've already tried," you say with a sigh. "Can't change his mind."
Remus gives you a look, before returning to Harry. "From what the Headmaster told me this morning, you saved a lot of lives last night, Harry. If I'm proud of anything, it's how much you've learned. Tell me about your Patronus."
"How d'you know about that?" Harry says, distracted.
"What else could have driven the Dementors back?"
Harry relays his tale of the Dementors and how he cast his Patronus to save himself and Sirius, and you beam proudly at him.
"Wicked."
"Yes, your father was always a stag when he transformed," Remus says to Harry with a smile. "You guessed right...that's why we called him Prongs."
Remus throws his last few books into his case, closes the desk drawers and turns to look at Harry.
"Here — I brought this from the Shrieking Shack last night," he says, handing Harry his Invisibility Cloak. "And..." he hesitates, then shoves the Marauder's Map into your hands. "I'm not your teacher anymore, Harry, so I'll leave the map in better hands."
You glance down at it, scoffing, before handing it out to Harry. "I couldn't care less what you do with it, Harry. I've no use for it, anyway. I doubt I'll be doing half as much sneaking around as yourself, Ron, and Hermione."
Harry takes the map and grins.
"You told me Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs would've wanted to put me in danger."
"Danger is a strong word," you say with a slight chuckle. "Perhaps get you into trouble is a better way to say it. I'm sure James would've been highly disappointed if his son never got up to a few rule-breaking antics."
"Seconded," Remus agrees.
There's a knock at the door, and you see Harry hastily stuff the map and the cloak into his pocket. It's Dumbledore. He doesn't seem surprised to see you nor Harry there.
"Your carriage is at the gates, Remus," he says.
"Thank you, Headmaster."
Remus picks up his old suitcase and empty Grindylow tank. You hop off the desk, dusting off your trousers with the palm of your hands.
"Well, goodbye, Harry," Remus says, smiling. "It has been a real pleasure teaching you. I feel sure we'll meet again some time. Headmaster, there is no need to see me to the gates, I can manage..."
He glances back at you, as if to say the same thing, and you immediately roll your eyes. "Can't shake me that easily, Moony."
He sighs knowingly.
"Goodbye then, Remus," Dumbledore says soberly. Remus shifts the Grindylow tank slightly so that he and Dumbledore can shake hands. Then, with a final nod to Harry, he leaves the office and you grin, heading out after him. You turn quickly, placing a hand on the edge of the doorframe and peek your head in through the door.
"Harry, would you come to my office later? I'd like to talk to you about a few things."
He nods, and you grin, turning back to catch up with Remus.
"Oh, Moony, give me that," you scold, grabbing the Grindylow tank and shifting it up to be able to carry it comfortably. "Why have four hands if two aren't being used?"
He chuckles, your footsteps clicking in sync against the stone floor.
"Merlin, school'll be so boring without you," you groan. "I'll miss you."
He gives you a small smile. "I'll miss you too. I'll miss Hogwarts — I really did quite like teaching here."
"It is nice, isn't it?" You agree. "It's nice to have a routine every day."
He hums in agreement.
"I wonder who'll replace you next year," you say thoughtfully. "Hopefully someone who can hold a conversation. I'm getting sick of getting caught in a chat with Professor Binns. It is actual torture — I mean, how can you be a ghost and still be boring?"
Remus chuckles. "You're acting as if you don't remember his classes when we were kids."
You groan. "Don't remind me! Merlin, if I had to go through another one of those I think I'd actually jump off the Astronomy Tower..."
A few students give a parting wave to Remus and he smiles sadly back at them. You finally arrive outside at his carriage, and he turns to you.
"Goodbye," he says, smiling forlornly. "I truly think this past year has been one of the best in a long time. It was nice to spend my evenings with a good friend."
You grin at him, placing the Grindylow tank on the ground and throwing your arms around him. He has to drop his suitcase to be able to return the hug.
"For me, too," you say. "I'm so thankful that you're in my life, Remus."
"And I am thankful you're in mine."
You pat his shoulder, smiling. "I love you, Moony. Safe home — and make sure you write to me in the next few days, yeah?"
He smiles. "Of course. I love you too. And before you say it — I'll find him. Shouldn't be too hard."
"You're an absolute gem, Moony," you say genuinely. "Now, get going!"
He chuckles, picking up the suitcase and putting it onto the back of the carriage. You hoist the tank up and place it beside it, patting the top.
"Bye!"
⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。
"Come in, come in..." you say with a smile as Harry enters your office, taking a seat in the chair in front of you. You sit down behind the desk, removing Dubh from her sleeping spot on your chair, who lets out an agitated meow. She quickly settles on your lap instead, curling up again. She really does nothing but sleep.
"Well, Harry. Remus told me everything up until he transformed, so you don't have to worry about telling that tale to me again. I'm sure you're tired of telling it."
You were livid when you found out about Peter. That slimy, disgusting, selfish little traitor. He was your friend! To think you let him into your home, to think you ever had faith in him!
Truth is, you always just thought he was a little...socially inept. He was never very good at talking to girls, and perhaps that was for the best. Bit of an odd bloke. But he was Sirius' good friend, so you had faith in his character.
What a fucking waste.
That pathetic man threw away everything for himself.
He ruined James' and Lily's lives.
He ruined Harry's life.
Sirius.
Remus.
Your life.
You could've had a happy life with your husband and your best friends if he hasn't spoiled it all.
You were so angry. It took quite some time for Remus to calm you down.
He nods. "Professor...if you knew Sirius was innocent this whole time, why didn't you tell anyone?"
You give a bitter chuckle. "I did, Harry. Of course I did. But what proof had I? I wasn't there. All I had was a strong belief in my husband. That counts for nothing in the judicial system. I mean — everyone believed he was guilty. Half of 'em thought I was just as mad as him."
"Sirius asked me how you were," Harry says thoughtfully. You furrow your eyebrows and he continues, "He thought I would have been living with you, not with the Dursleys...'cause you're my godmother. So why didn't you raise me instead?"
You sigh, giving him an apologetic smile. "I...couldn't, Harry. Well — not at the beginning anyway, I was a right mess then — but also because I wasn't allowed. The Ministry reckoned I'd try and kill you — which is like, I know my cooking's not great but it's not lethal — "
Harry snorts and you smile.
I just made my godson laugh!
"Not to mention Petunia totally hates me," you add. "With a passion. Couldn't visit, 'cause she'd have an absolute conniption if I stepped foot in her lovely, pristine home. Didn't write, either. Thought it'd be weird if you only got letters and never actually met me..."
Harry nods, though he's clearly not entirely satisfied yet. "Why didn't you tell me once I started school?"
"Wasn't allowed to do that either," you sigh. "You were already adjusting to so many new things...Dumbledore told me to wait. So I did, I waited a whole year, and then last year he again told me you weren't old enough yet. I was a bit angry at that, honestly...I'd already had to deal with eleven years of no contact with my own godson...but Dumbledore is much wiser than I, and I trust his judgement. And well, this year —of course — would have been a bad time to reveal I married Sirius..."
Harry doesn't say anything and you sigh. "Harry, dear, I really am quite sorry. I wish I could've properly watched you grow up."
Harry just shrugs awkwardly, looking away from you. "What...what were my parents like?"
You smile reminiscently. "Oh, Harry, just the best. Like the best people you'd ever meet — and I know they'd be so proud of you. They'd be so proud of you, Harry, so proud. And I'm very proud of you too."
Harry struggles to contain the smile stretching his lips.
"Lily was my best friend growing up. She was practically my sister. You wouldn't meet a kinder person, and she was also hilarious. I can't count the amount of times I genuinely thought my chest was going to explode from laughter with her," you tell him with a big grin. "And — and James, Merlin, now we used to fight like siblings. I remember one time, he decided to give himself frosted tips without telling anyone, and they were horrendous. Like, actually atrocious and he was so adamant that they were cool and they weren't. I honestly think I passed out from laughing. Oh, wait, hold on — I have a photo here somewhere — "
You pull out the key from your pocket, unlocking the bottom drawer of your desk and pulling it open. You grab a small stack of photos from inside and start to shuffle through them.
"Aha!" You exclaim, pulling a particular one out and grinning at it. There in the photo, is James Potter, his hair tousled and with the most horrendous frosted tips you've ever seen. He's grinning proudly though, and in the corner you can see a red-faced Sirius, doubled over in laughter.
You hold it out to Harry, and he takes it very gently, as thought it's more delicate and precious than glass. He beams at the photo, grinning just like his dad.
"Ah, Harry, you are the image of your father," you say happily. "Would not recommend frosted tips for you."
Harry chuckles, still looking at the photo happily. He gazes at it for a bit longer, before reluctantly handing it back towards you and you quickly shake your head.
"Keep it, keep it! I probably have a copy at home somewhere," you tell him, pushing back the photo. You lean down again and pick up the rest of the photos, handing them all to Harry. "Keep them all. I have loads more at home, I should bring the rest of them in to you."
The look on Harry's face warms your heart. He looks so happy, excitedly taking the photos and rifling through them. You crane your neck to see which ones he's looking at and begin to explain each one.
"Remus and Lily with their Prefects' badges...if you look close, you can actually see James ogling Lily in the background."
"Prank gone wrong..."
"Ooh, prank gone right!"
"My sixteenth birthday, that is. There's everyone...including my then-boyfriend, Alan. You don't have to squint to see the scowl on Sirius' face."
"Everyone spent a week at James's over the summer..."
"Oh, yeah, there's your godfather."
"What's wrong with him?" Harry asks.
You snort, looking back at the photo of Sirius stumbling around and pretending to use his wand as a microphone. "Drank too much firewhiskey. Don't even think about copying anything he does, by the way! Sirius is an idiot."
"I...wasn't planning on it," Harry says sheepishly. He flips the next photo, revealing a happy Sirius kissing a woman wearing a wedding dress —
"Oh, I'll take that one!" You say quickly, grabbing it and laying it face down on the desk.
Harry's cheeks redden slightly and he lands on the final photo. Your graduation photo.
You don't say anything for a second, gazing at it fondly. "Our graduation," you say softly.
Harry looks at it curiously, eyes wandering over the faces in the photo. He points at Alice, asking, "Who's she?"
You smile. "Alice Longbottom. Neville's mother."
Harry raises his eyebrows, looking back at you in surprise. "You knew her?"
You glance down at your watch, sighing. "You better get going if you want dinner. Come chat to me anytime, alright, Harry? I'd love the company."
"Very well," you say. "Alice, Lily, and I were the greatest friends. And Frank, Neville's dad, too...we were all like a little family." You point to Frank with your pinky finger.
Harry's eyes then focus on Wormtail, and you can see his jaw visibly clench. "Is that..."
"Yep. Wormtail."
He looks like he's nearly about to rip the photograph, so you gently take it from him, picking up a quill off your desk and dipping it in your ink well. You scribble out his face. Some small part of you knows you shouldn't do that. That this is someone who was once your friend. Someone you trusted. Someone Sirius trusted.
But you do it anyway, and hand it back to him.
"There...no reminders now," you say softly. He nods, taking the photo again and giving you a small smile.
He smiles, standing up from his chair.
"And take all those photos! I'm sure Ron and Hermione would like to see them too."
"Thank you, Professor," he says gratefully, carefully gathering up the photographs and leaving the room.
You flip over the photo once he leaves, gazing over the wedding photo again. You smile wistfully.
⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。
→ all kinds of interaction are appreciated ♡
hello lovelies! sorry that it's been so long since the last upload — the past week or two has been like a bit hectic haha. I really hope you like this chapter, and thank you all so much for the overwhelming support I've been getting recently. I love you all!! 💌
as always, a big thank you to my taglist loves for all their kindness and support:
@carpe000diem @wholelottalove05 @izuoyarmin @hyperspeedo
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dramioneasks · 4 months
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New Year’s Day Fics (2024):
Glitter On The Dance Floor by wantsgmarie, WritexAboutxMe - E, one-shot - Following the events of You're My Home , Hermione gets her wish, and Draco escorts her to his Mother's annual New Year's Eve Gala. -or- They torment Lucius, drink champagne, dance and then fuck. Happy New Year's my loves. This story can be entirely read and enjoyed on its own, but the beginning does reference the events of part 1.
A Bottle of Blotson's by thepotterfamily - E, WIP - A little Christmas tale in which Hermione and Draco are workaholics spending the holidays in the Ministry halls together, but separate. In which Draco steals Hermione’s ink and makes up for it with the best gift she’s ever received. In a world where Draco is Hermione’s golden boy and Hermione is Draco’s saving grace, please enjoy my ten-part Christmas tale that is really more of a New Years Eve story. Eventually NSFW.
The Library Liaison by UltramarineOrchid - E, WIP - When Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy realise they’ll need to ring in the New Year by fake-dating, they think that’s just what comes with the job. Little do they know that they’re going to get far more than they bargained for.
New Years Past by magicalsydney (magicandmanuscripts) - G, one-shot - Five years of monumental New Years’ Eves for Hermione and Draco.
A New Year, Together by oceanxpoppy - E, one-shot - She was not fine. She could admit that. She hadn’t been fine in months, if she was honest with herself. It’s something she rarely was anymore, but the exhaustion of the evening had stripped her bare, and all that was left was the feeling she most abhorred; longing. A longing for a man who wanted absolutely nothing to do with her.
What Are You Doing New Year's Eve? by Granger_Danger1234321 - not rated, one-shot - Draco and Hermione are the only single ones left out of their friend group. Draco proposes a fake dating arrangement to get them through the holiday season. Just a silly, fluffy holiday fic with a fake dating trope.
Raise a Toast by MarinaJune - M, one-shot - It's the cusp of a new year, and Draco Malfoy is finally ready to take the next step forward away from his grief and his pining. Ahead of him stands Minister Granger-Weasley. Recently-divorced. The centre of attention in a crowd high on hope and celebration.
ringing in the new year by moscovit - M, one-shot - Hermione hates parties, especially intimate ones. When she gets an invitation to Blaise Zabini's New Year's party, she's got no excuse not to go. But Blaise's girlfriend, Ginny, is kind of an ex friend now after a very public breakup with Ron, and they haven't spoke in weeks. This is the story of semi anti social Hermione suffering through a party with a group of friends she doesn't feel like she belongs with.
Midnight wish by Katibugg3 - not rated, one-shot - Hermione is attending the Malfoy's New Years Eve gala alone. Thank God for the expensive wine Draco always has for her.
New Year's Resolutions by arborlibrary - M, one-shot - Hermione had not seen him since the day she’d originally been dragged into his manor and tortured by Bellatrix, while he’d just watched. She’d always wondered if he’d ever make an appearance, after six years of absolutely detesting her at Hogwarts. But he never had, and none of the others had ever mentioned him, either. And he was alone. “Granger,” he finally whispered, remaining on his side of the locked gate. She cautiously approached, though still stayed out of reach. “What do you want?” she rasped, trying to remember how long it had even been since she’d last spoken. Now she was close enough to watch his throat bob as he gulped. “It’s New Year’s Eve.”
Can I Be Yours? by Wanderingfair - E, 2 chapters - “Stop stalling.” She laughed. “Right.” he confirmed, “I’m off to have a dastardly time bashing around Londo- oh, wait, no, I’m off to go meet the gold-digger Mum set me up with,” he snapped. “I get those two confused all the time.” “Go,” she urged, tucking her mouth into the sleeve of her jumper to hide her smile. “I’ll be up reading when you get home.” “You’ll be asleep on the library sofa and we both know it.” He winked, before closing the door. OR Hermione is forced to watch her best friend Draco Malfoy go on dates and finally confront the fact that she doesn't just love him, she is in love with him.
Draco Malfoy's Five Step Plan to Being Forgettable by OneEqualTemper - E, one-shot - Five times Draco said, “New year, new me!” and one time Hermione said, “But I like the old you.”
things that have never been by ohthedrarry - E, one-shot - 31 December 2009 – Draco finds himself sitting alone at a bar, much like he had in December 1999, bringing in the New Year with a glass of whiskey and a sense that this next decade won’t be any better than the last. Until Hermione Granger wanders in with mascara smudged under her eyes, demanding a dry martini.
make a wish by thatblondebitvh - M, one-shot - Theodore Nott's New Year's experiment goes wrong. Chaos ensues.
That One Night That Draco And Theo Sent A Message by allyseisfalling - E, one-shot - It's New Years Eve night and Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott decide to go hunting.
Zero O'Clock by forestknifefight - G, one-shot - “You,” Malfoy begins, drawing Hermione’s attention again. He still isn’t looking at her, favoring the book now held in both hands. His mouth drops open like he’s afraid to speak. “I…?” She prompts him to continue. She lets her arm relax against the table, her quill nearly falling from her hand. His mouth shuts momentarily. He inhales through his nose but still does not look up at her. “You aren’t celebrating.”
Happy New Year Draco Malfoy by MissusB - E, one-shot - After going through the emotional constipation of gifting Hermione his love all December, he finally gets to tell her in person. Even better, he gets to show her as they agree to spend New Year's evening together and maybe start a new tradition together.
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thecasualauthor · 2 months
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I wrote some romione for the first time in forever.
This will be posted to AO3 eventually once my Internet decides it's not going to steal my social security number or something.
Read under the cut!!
@nena-96 this one is for you because that last ask you sent still makes me smile. :)))))
Her hands are cold, Ron realizes.
How does he know this? Because he's holding them. Or one of them, at least.
They sit in the common room, staring into the fire. Harry went to bed ages ago, and it's been the two of them here for several hours. They aren't even studying, what with Dumbledore's death and all.
Ron glances at the clock on the mantle, stifling a yawn, and Hermione looks at him.
“Merlin, Ron, I didn't realize the time!” she says. “I didn't mean to keep–”
“It's nothing,” Ron waves her off. “I can't really sleep, anyway.” Hermione gives a tired smile.
“We can be insomniacs together,” she says drily. Ron laughs lightly and gives her hand another squeeze.
“What are friends for?” He shrugs, and then pauses, glancing down at their conjoined hands. Hermione doesn't miss the gesture, and she bites her lip.
He stares at her a moment, thoughts racing in his mind.
The thing is… the thing is– that he doesn't really know what to call his relationship with the girl next to him. Best friends? Sure. But as far as he was concerned, friends didn't hold hands as often as they did. Friends didn't fall asleep in each other's arms and wake up tangled together.
But he and Hermione definitely weren't a couple. Not officially.
He wants them to be, though.
Sometimes he thinks about it. Sometimes he wonders what it would be like to be able to hold her, to kiss her, to love her openly without a care in the world.
Hermione lets go of his hand, and Ron immediately misses the warmth. She turns back to face the fire, leaning forward and resting her chin in her hands. They sit in silence for a long while before Hermione breaks it.
“What's going to happen?” She asks in a small voice, and Ron furrows his brow.
“What do you mean?”
“This– this war. With Dumbledore gone– I don't think Hogwarts is safe for me anymore, Ron.” Her voice breaks a little, and Ron’s heart constricts.
“We'll figure it out, ‘Mione,” he tells her, and she swallows before turning to face him.
“I don't know what to do. I may– what if I have to go into hiding? I don't want to hide forever.”
“I'll go with you,” Ron says automatically, and the instant the words leave his mouth he knows they're true.
Hermione stares at him for the briefest moment, and for a moment, Ron thinks she's about to start crying. But instead she leans upward and brushes her lips against his.
His first thought is that he wants to do this for the rest of his life. His hand lifts to cup her cheek, and he's certain, absolutely positive, that everything in his entire life has led to this moment.
They break apart, and Hermione looks equal parts shocked and elated.
“I've been waiting to do that for months,” she breathes. Ron grins.
“Honestly? So have I.”
And he kisses her again.
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mishqua · 8 months
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Hermione tapped her finger on the map, "Alright, Ron, you be the lookout. Harry, you be the distraction. I will get in."
The boy-who-lived had been nodding most seriously before her words stopping no sense, "Wait, what? Why am I the distraction?! Hermione, I should be the one dealing with the ward and the trap and what not. In fact that is what we have been doing so far! Why change it?"
"That's before we realized none of our efforts matter! Because every time we get anywhere near their base, you-know-who sees us and then it doesn't matter who is doing what! He is always looking for you!"
Harry spluttered, "But- what if I don't want to fight him anymore?" He whined. He already has to see that snake face enough time anyway.
Ron shrugged, "Then just bat your eyes at hin or something. Should work just as well."
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antebunny · 2 months
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So there's a subgenre of fics in the Harry Potter fandom wherein a person conceived while one of their parents is under the influence of a love potion will become aroace at birth. The origin, afaik, are two insidiously awful decisions of JKR combining: 1) she reinvented date rape drugs/roofies aka love potions, without realizing it I guess, and 2) she said that Voldemort was asexual, because she's never seen a marginalized identity she didn't spit on.
Since Merope Gaunt (Voldemort's mother) used a love potion on Tom Riddle Sr. (Voldemort's dad) I guess people got the idea that what if love potions caused asexuality? And asexuality + aromanticism, of course, meant evil. Here's an excerpt from one of those fics in which Bill Weasley explains being aro/ace to Hermione:
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[Image ID]
"No. I just dated because that was what you did. I never really felt anything for them. A few kisses, plenty of hand-holding. I made out in a few broom closets, and had one very uncomfortable make-out session up the top of the Astronomy Tower that I eventually ended by pretending I heard Filch coming past on a patrol. I even tried making out with a guy once in case that was it–nothing. I never told mum about that, of course. Good wizards don't shame their families like that."
"There's nothing wrong with being gay, you know."
He shrugged. "It doesn't apply to me anyway. I'm not gay. I wasn't anything, and I was trying to accept that and be content with it. It was good enough. Until I met Fleur." His eyes lit up with joy as he spoke about her.
[Second Image ID]
"Look, the point is with her allure from being part-Veela, I love her. Like I can never love anyone else. I don't want to lose that. You don't understand what it's like to go through life feeling nothing for anyone else. I've dated people I said I cared for, but I wouldn't have died for them. Well, out of logical choice I might risk my life, but not from love. But I would die for Fleur. Do you understand? She makes me a better person. I would do anything to make her happy. I'm not alone in the world anymore."
She nodded slowly. "I see." It wasn't so much him manipulating Fleur, as him permitting her to manipulate him. Into feeling. "I didn't realise it could be that bad." She still thought he should confess, but it didn't sound like he was hurting Fleur–he really did love her.
[End Image ID]
I read this fic years ago, and at the time I genuinely had not thought about my sexuality at all. I would've never called myself aro or ace. Still, reading this felt like being repeatedly punched in the face. I kept on waiting for Hermione to say something similar to what she said after Bill made a homophobic comment. After all, she went out of her way the first time, didn't she. Instead, what I got was essentially:
Bill: I don't usually feel romantic or sexual attraction. So there's something wrong with me.
Hermione: Yeah lmao. But there's nothing wrong with being gay!
I've been (reading) on Ao3 since 2016, and in all that time I've seen plenty of subtle racism, sexism, etc. But I've never seen anything as plainly stated as this. To this day I have yet to hear any aro/ace people describe the experience of being aro/ace in any of the following ways: "How could I forgive myself if we brought a child into the world to suffer the emptiness I lived with my whole existence[?]" /"You should be unable to love." / "You don't understand what it's like to go through life feeling nothing for anyone else."
I could not understand why Bill described it as "emptiness" or "feeling nothing." I still cannot find a single aro/ace person who would describe themselves as empty. The most I have ever heard is: "I wish I was normal" (meaning I wish I fit in, I wish to be accepted by other people). Historically, many aro/ace people married and had kids, conforming to societal norms, and I am sure many believed there was something wrong with them or hoped to grow out of it. I was one of them. On a very personal note, I suspect that my father is too. I am certain that he's never heard the terms asexual or aromantic in his life. But if you think I'll ever discuss his sexuality with him, you're out of your damn mind.
Now, I know it's really easy to find this fic from these quotes. I chose to include them anyways because I think it's important to show how blatant it was. My Tumblr blog isn't exactly a platform, but for the five people reading this: please, please do not go after the author. I truly believe that they had no ill-intent. In the comments of this fic, a few people bring up variations of "it sounds like Bill is just aro/ace" and the author is consistently understanding. Here are some of the author's comment on that fic:
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I very much understand what you're saying. It's a tricky thing for me to address, however. For the core idea I'm playing with is basically the evilness of "love potions". And part of that is exploring JKR's idea that Voldemort, being unable to love due to his mother using a love potion on his father, was a *monster* because of that. Perhaps that doesn't come across very clearly (there's a little bit more of it in the prequel), that it's one of the assumptions I'm trying to undermine. ("Love potions are funny/romantic", "Voldemort is a monster because he could not love", "Harry's power was that he could love - he's not a monster like Voldemort", "There's nothing wrong with selling love potions to teens/adults because it's not 'real' love".)
I feel like I'm already poking at the inherent problem of framing "people who cannot love" as "monsters/psychopaths" by showing Bill and Harry's struggles with self acceptance, and Bill finding a way to love (though do note he'd been making peace with the idea he wasn't attracted to anyone, prior to meeting Fleur). I really don't like the canonical take on love-redeems/love-is-the-best-power/the-loveless-are-monsters, so I'm messing with it a bit. Exploring other people than Voldemort, ones we admire, who are also dealing with being unable to love. Does that make sense? Now, that doesn't mean I'm doing a perfect job at it, but I'm trying my best to explore that theme around the edges of my Dramione story.
[End Image ID]
The author's intention was to show how other characters, made aro/ace via love potion like Voldemort, were not evil or sociopaths. I don't know why all the characters were so aro/acephobic, but sometimes fics get away from you and you don't address everything you wanted to. I don't know why the aro/ace characters had so much internalized shame and hatred when the term bachelor has been in use for centuries, but we fanfic authors love writing self-esteem issues and I would be a hypocrite to say otherwise. I don't know why the author never tagged acephobia or internalized acephobia, but no one HAS to tag anything.
I don't know if the author ended up writing that fic where Harry comes to accept his aro/asexuality. It's totally understable if they didn't; I have failed to write many fics that I really did want to write. Sometimes it's just like that. I really, truly believe that the author had the best of intentions and is not aro/acephobic, just severely misled on what that experience is like.
My beef is not with this author. I used their words to highlight a reoccurring and popular sentiment that I hate. My real beef is that this fic is popular. This is an entire subgenre of Harry Potter fics. I actually decided to write this post because some random person on the internet said, a few days ago, something along the lines of: "Remember when JKR invented a date rape drug that turned people into sociopaths? Yeah…" (And also because I was up until 3 am last night writing a dumb trash angst one-shot about it).
I'd wager that the vast, vast majority of people who write or read those fics don't feel the same way. But the condescension is baked into the very premise of that trope. "Oh poor you, it must be so hard, so lonely going through life without ever loving another person. You must feel so empty inside."
It's actually people who say similar things that make me feel isolated. Most of the time I feel free, like I've cracked this secret code, like I'm able to see things clearly that people so hung up over sex and romance can't. Other times I feel so left out I wish I was "normal." Mostly, being aro/ace is lonely, annoying, exhausting, and liberating.
It wasn't until last year that a friend told me that some people actually do have trouble speaking to someone they've never met before, just because they find that someone attractive. I thought that only happened in stories. But I don't want to get nervous meeting new people based on their looks, I don't want to treat people differently based on how much I want to have sex with them. I wish my friends in high school had never pressured me to come out as bisexual. I wish all the other similarly liberal, queer communities I've found since didn't insist on associating sex and dating with emotional comfort. I wish I could magically stop my parents from expecting me to ever get married and have kids.
But I can't.
Anyways, that's it for today. I'm not sure what the point of writing this was. I really don't want anyone to get hurt or attacked because of it. This is not a callout, or a hate brigade, or any sort of call-to-action. I don't want people to get up-in-arms about this. I'm just tired. I suppose I just wanted to put my feelings out there, and well, this is my Tumblr.
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gryfferin-gaybies · 1 month
Text
Prompt - sidewalk
"I hate you, Malfoy!" The words were out before Harry could stop them. He instantly wished to take them back.
In front of him stood his husband of only a few months, Draco Potter. He hadn't associated with the Malfoy name since the Second Wizarding War. Before he became a Potter, he and his mother had chosen to legally change their last names to her maiden name: Black. Harry hadn't called him Malfoy since they were boys, since they were enemies.
Draco flinched at Harry's outburst. His eyes began to well with tears, but his stare into Harry's eyes never wavered.
Harry shook his head slowly. "Draco, I-" he sputtered, "Draco I didn't—I wasn't—Dray, please." He wasn't even sure what he was trying to say. He just wanted to be able to unsay all of those words. He didn't mean it. Of course, he didn't mean it. It was just his anger talking. He loved Draco.
Draco held up a hand to stop Harry's babbling. With tears faintly beginning to fall down his cheeks, he offered a sad smile to Harry, nodded his head once, and made to walk out of their house. He didn't Apparate or take the Floo. He just walked himself to the front door intending to leave that way.
Harry ran after him, catching him in the entryway and grabbing his shoulder to spin him around so they were face to face. Tears had already began to stream down his face. Once he was looking into Draco's sad eyes he loosened his grip and slid his hand down Draco's arm to intertwine their fingers, grabbing his other hand to do the same. "Draco don't leave. Please." It was barely even a whisper.
"Harry, let me go." Draco's voice was gentle, more of a plea than a demand. It was like all of the anger that fueled their argument only moments before was gone without a trace now.
Harry was stubborn. Always had been. "No. I'm not letting you go. I'll never let you go because I love you." He lifted Draco's hands to kiss his knuckles. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I—"
"But you did mean it!" Draco yanked both of his hands out of Harry's grasp. Harry opened his mouth to protest but Draco continued with his outburst. "Maybe not just now, but you used to. You hated me! And I hated you too." His tears came more steadily. He swiped at them quickly on his cheeks, looking away from Harry, fidgeting with his wedding ring.
Harry took a step closer, putting them almost chest to chest, to catch his gaze again. "So what? What does it matter that we used to hate each other?"
"How can something good and healthy come from something so awful? How do you expect us to be happy together when our entire relationship is rooted in a place of anger?" He hung his head, looking altogether defeated as his gaze tracked the movement of his wedding band where he fiddled with it.
Harry lifted Draco's head with his index finger under his chin, bringing Draco's gaze to meet his own. "Our entire relationship isn't rooted in anger. It's rooted in forgiveness. Yes, we hated each other. Yes, we were awful little shits to each other. But you and I both know that we aren't those people anymore. We've grown. We've changed."
"But have we?" Draco whispered. "We still fight and argue all the time. Maybe we aren't capable of moving past that." His eyes bore into Harry's, searching for answers.
"You really think our disagreements are anything like what they used to be?"
"Well, no, but—"
"Of course not! Because we've changed." Harry continued at Draco's still unconvinced expression. "Couples argue. Hermione and Ron do, Pansy and Luna do, even Molly and Arthur argue sometimes." Harry held Draco's face in his palms, wiping away the tears with his thumbs. "We're going to argue, Dray, but that's not a bad thing. It's not the same as how we used to argue and you know that."
"But—"
Harry shook his head to stop Draco's rebuttal. "Our history isn't great, sure. Hell, we were on opposite sides of an entire war. But that doesn't matter because what we have now does matter and it's good. We're good. We're like the grass that grows in the cracks of the sidewalk, alive and well despite everything that's been put on us."
There was a pause before Draco spoke again. "Yeah?" He sniffled, wide eyes looking at Harry with hope.
"This relationship is the good that came after the bad. The love I have for you now, Draco, isn't rooted in the hatred. It's rooted in the growth and the healing that we've both experienced. I don't love you because I used to hate you. I love you because you make me happy. I love you because you aren't the boy I used to know and despise," Harry said around a slight laugh. "I love you because of the man you are now. Our past doesn't affect how much I love you at all. It's just an obstacle for us to work around like the grass grows around the concrete."
Draco chuckled weakly in return. "I suppose you're right. Our love doesn't come from the hatred; it just came after it."
"Exactly. What we have is good. We are good and healthy, and I love you. I love you so much."
"I love you too." Draco pulled Harry in by his collar for a kiss. "No more fighting?" He rested their foreheads together, eyes closed, just enjoying the closeness.
"For now." Harry's grin was cheeky as he moved his hands from Draco's face to wrap around his waist.
"For now," Draco agreed with an affectionate roll of his eyes.
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panandinpain0 · 9 months
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My friend (that’s ur new title, u can’t relinquish it sorry HAHAHAH) can I ask for a prequel to Under the Willow Tree- what happened with that kiss I needs to know bro you can’t do me dirty like this 😭😭 fr tho feel free to put this one on the backburner
The Kiss
Coming right up mango! (I love my new title and you can take it from my cold dead hands)
(and I know, I'm super creative with titles)
@@@
Requested by: @mailmango
Ron Weasley x Male!Ravenclaw!Granger!Reader
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Walking with some of his friends, (Y/N) was trying to decide what to do in his free period.
"-And my mother keeps trying to get me to date the neighbor boy, too! She just won't quit it!" Rylie Hops, a fellow Ravenclaw, exclaimed to (Y/N), who just now tuned into the conversation.
"What's the neighbor boy got that I don't have?" Cooper Brand flirted with Rylie, the Slytherin as cunning as they come.
Rolling his eyes, as he always found himself in the middle of their flirting, (Y/N) sighed and looked around. He spotted his older sister and her friends and decided it was time to leave the conversation (not that he was much part of it in the beginning).
"I'll see you guys later, yeah? I've got to go ask Hermione something," he cut Cooper off, not that he really cared.
"Oh, see you (Y/N)!" Cooper waved him off as he walked.
"I'll save you a seat at dinner!" Rylie called before turning back to Cooper.
Approaching the frizzy haired sixth year, (Y/N) waved to her.
"Hey 'Mione!"
"(Y/N), I thought you had Astronomy?" Hermione asked, gearing up to scold him for skipping a period.
"No, I had it just barely, it's my free period now. Cooper and Rylie are at it again so I figured I'd join you guys. Harry, Ron," he nodded to them in greeting.
"(Y/N)," Ron greeted back with a smile, Harry vaguely waving as he stared at someone across the courtyard.
"They're still at it?" Hermione questioned, looking back down at her book and twirling her quill. "You just need to tell them they like each other."
"It doesn't work like that, 'Mione. Cooper is in love with Rylie so he jokingly flirts with her because he thinks that's how he'll win her heart, but Rylie thinks they're just that; jokes! I think it's best to just leave them to figure it out on their own," (Y/N) replied, sitting on the bench next to Hermione and Ron, trying to avoid Harry (who was sitting on the ground in front of the bench for some reason).
"Love is so stupid," Hermione scoffed, shaking her head and writing something on her parchment.
"I don't know, it could be kind of fun!" Ron shrugged, looking at (Y/N). (Y/N) turned to look at him but Ron turned before he could get caught.
"How would you know?" Harry laughed, patting his friends shoe.
"Oh, what do you know about love, Harry?"
"Not enough..."
Leaning over to whisper to Ron, (Y/N) looked Harry up and down.
"What's up with him?" (Y/N) whispered.
"I dunno, I've been trying to pry it out of him for days, but no luck."
Whatever Harry had been looking at didn't seem to hold his interest anymore as he turned around to face his friends on the bench.
"(Y/N), you're really good at transfiguration, right?"
"What isn't he good at?" Ron asked rhetorically, missing (Y/N)'s surprised look.
"McGonagall loves you," Harry went on, Hermione hesitantly looking up from her book as she caught on to what he was saying.
"Um, I s'pose. Why?" (Y/N) replied with a head tilt.
"We need your help with something-"
"Are you sure we should be wrapping him up in all this?" Ron asked, his question going unheard.
"Meet us under the staircase by the One-Eyed-Witch statue after dinner, alright?" Harry continued.
"Uh... okay?" (Y/N) agreed, unsure as to what they'd need a fifth year for.
"You really don't have to if you don't want to," Ron reassured him, shaking his head at Harry's eagerness.
"It would help us loads, I know how you are with transfiguration, but Ron's right. Come if you want, it's okay if you don't," Hermione put a comforting hand on (Y/N)'s shoulder.
"I'll be there," (Y/N) shrugged.
...
"So, what do you need my help for?" (Y/N) asked as he got close enough to the trio under the staircase.
"We've planned this prank for Malfoy-"
"Hermione, you're planning a prank?" (Y/N) asked his sister incredulously, kind of impressed.
"I didn't want to but you know how I am with Malfoy," was her response.
"The point is we need a specific transfiguration spell that takes a lot of skill and concentration," Harry informed.
"Why can't Hermione do it?"
It was silent for a moment when Ron spoke up, "Because you're better than her at transfiguration."
With raised eyebrows, (Y/N) turned to his sister.
Hermione let out a sigh and rolled her eyes, "It's true. I've never told you but you are better than me at transfigurations, and I can't do the spell."
"Alright what's the spell?" (Y/N) chuckled.
Harry handed him a piece of paper with the information on it.
"Just look into it and practice it, we'll need you in a week," Harry told him, patting him on the shoulder. "Thanks, mate."
"It's not like I've got anything better to do." (Y/N) shrugged.
"Harry, look," Hermione whispered to her friend, pointing up the stairs. Whatever they saw had them running up them, but (Y/N) and Ron stayed where they were.
"A prank on the Slytherins, huh?" (Y/N) laughed as he put the slip of paper into his bag.
"Yeah, just Malfoy acting like the ferret he is," Ron joked back, leaning against the wall. (Y/N) joined him there, twiddling his thumbs.
Ron rubbed the back of his neck, glancing over at (Y/N) nervously.
"I've been thinking about what we were talking about the other day, in the courtyard..." Ron trailed off.
"What, Cooper and Rylie?"
"Yeah, the love thing. And I was wondering... have you ever been in love?"
Taken aback, (Y/N) blinked and gulped, trying to think.
"Uhm... I'd like to think so."
Ron nodded for a bit, looking deep in thought.
"Did they love you back?"
"I'm not sure... I haven't done anything about it. Yet."
"Oh. Well, what does it feel like?"
(Y/N) hummed in thought, "It hurts. I'm not sure if it's just because I don't know if he likes me back, or if being in love just hurts like this, but it hurts."
"'He'?"
(Y/N) nodded, looking at his shoes.
"Being in love, at least for me, is thinking about them. Not all of the time like some people say, but whenever you're life pauses for a moment... like you're outside and suddenly everything but the breeze stops and the sun is setting, it's tranquil. And the only thing I can think is that I want him there with me. Or when I make myself coffee I wonder how he likes his, or if he prefers tea instead...
And when he talks to me my heart feels like it's running right out of my chest, and I'm just so sure that my face is on fire, because that's what it feels like." (Y/N) turned to Ron, taking a deep breath.
"Have you ever been in love?"
Ron slowly cupped (Y/N)'s cheek, looking into his eyes to make sure it was okay. When he didn't object he took his hand with his free one and leaned in until their lips barely touched.
"I think so."
(Y/N) leaned forward and sealed the kiss, his free hand holding Ron's elbow. Their lips moved together, a partnership that would change their friendship forever. Ron couldn't believe he was doing this, not that he was thinking about much other than how sweet (Y/N) tasted on his lips, the cider on his mouth still lingering after dinner.
Butterflies swarmed (Y/N)'s stomach, violent and harsh compared to the daydream people write about.
"(Y/N)?" Hermione shouted as she walked down the stairs. "Ron?"
The boys gasped and pulled apart, (Y/N) wiping at his mouth before turning towards Hermione, clearing his throat.
He knew he looked like he'd just been making out with his big sisters best friend, but would she know that?
"Yeah, Hermione?" (Y/N) tried to hide the tremor in his voice.
"Aren't you two coming? Harry's run off after the Hufflepuff girl again and I can't find him."
"We'll help you look," Ron agreed, nodding and running a had through his hair.
Hermione looked them up and down suspiciously for a moment, but turned around eventually anyways.
Not knowing what to do, or say, the boys silently followed after her- not looking at each other.
---
Was this good? I need more practice with kissing scenes :/
Hope this was a good prequel for you mango!
-Author Max <3
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