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rhenuvee · 3 years

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PDA pt2 (Fred Weasley x reader)

A/N: No story line, just moments :P

Warnings: The gif... + it’s in the title, George having enough of your bs again, mention of the booty, suggestive moments

Link to pt 1: PDA pt1 (Yeah so there’s 500+ freakin notes on it holy crap)

Yeah so I just kinda wrote this during my English class...

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You always enjoyed the free days you got from work. You usually helped out in the shop when you weren’t working your regular job. Fred insisted you relax in the flat, but you wanted to spend more time with him, which meant working.

You didn’t mind it really. His shop was full of excitement, you’d take it over a boring office job any day.

“Love! Where’d you go?” called his voice from the top floor. You were sitting on the counter on the bottom floor already ready, and taking a sip of your tea. Your ears perked as you watched your boyfriend fiddling with his tie. As soon as he spotted you, a toothy grin came upon his face but quickly disappeared once he saw you on the counter.

“(Y/n)...” he sighed quickly trotting down the stairs while fixing his tie up and heading towards you. You hopped off the counter and leaned your back on it, knowing he was going to say the same thing again.

“Why don’t you go back up and rest?” he asked rather quietly while stroking your cheek. You put down your teacup.

“Freddie, you don’t need to worry about me, I’m wide awake.” You were hoping your cheerful voice would convince him- you were telling the truth after all. He sighed again, crossing his arms.

“I don’t want you to work on your free day.”

“And I’m not. I just want to spend more time with you.”

Yours and Fred’s relationship consisted of lots and lots of affection- George was unfortunately a witness to it. You loved the cuddling after a long day after work, the tight hugs once you came home, the silly kisses when Fred was hyper... Maybe it was just missing him after your hours apart during work, or purely being so proud of what he accomplished.

“Addiction? That’s not very good, love.” he teased, smirking. You gave his arm a light push and shook your head. A tease he was. “And I offered you to join me in the shower, but you said no.”

“Because every time you ask me and I say yes, your hand is on my butt before I even step foot into the shower.” He laughs at this, which you push him a little harder for. You pause and turn your head to the front of the shop, where the ‘No PDA’ sign sat in all it’s cardboard glory.

“Are we being too much? I don’t like being annoying to George.” you said biting your lip.

“Hm? Don’t worry about George, he’s just being crabby. And I thought you liked breaking the rules.” The shit-eating grin on his face made your face hot. He pinned you against the counter, hand brushing your waist.

“Well, I don’t, until you rubbed off me.” You poked his chest playfully.

“Did I?” He asked teasingly and getting closer to you. Before you could answer, the door flung open and a few customers entered.

You quickly pried yourself off your boyfriend and fixed your shirt which was ruffled by the counter. You glared at him and scrunched your nose. He in turn winked and stuck out his tongue at you. Fred chuckled at how frantic you looked, compared to the customers who were too late to notice the PDA that was about to happen.

---

There weren’t any problems with customers, and the day seemed to be passing slowly. It wasn’t until there were only a couple of people in the shop at the moment, and your boyfriend decided to walk towards you. He wrapped his built arms around your waist, and his chin rested atop your head. You were a bit surprised, but smiled when you felt the familiarity of his touch.

“Fred, you almost scared me.” You said putting one hand atop his, and the other pushing the skiving snackboxes to look nice. He didn’t say anything.

“What is it Freddie?”

“Nothing...” he mumbled. “Just- you gotta stop being so bloody cute.” He took your free hand and rubbed it with his thumb. His head was in the clouds lately, you noticed. You remembered that was the same hand you had the scars from the blood quill. Your heart swelled at how sweet he was being.

“There are people still here.” you whispered. “Merlin, no wonder George can’t stand you.” you scoffed. He unwrapped his arms around you to turn you to face him.

“But that’s because we broke the no PDA rule...” You noticed that he mumbled the last bit, trailing off a little. You were left speechless as his hand was brought up- his index finger to tilt your chin up and his thumb to trace your bottom lip. You never realized when he got so close to you, but you did now as he leaned in and-

“Excuse me, Mr. Weasley!” You quickly coughed and pulled away. A small kid about eight years old tapped Fred. The little boy cocked his head in confusion as he saw both of you in an- *cough* interesting pose. Your boyfriend, quick and clever as ever, pretended and made an excuse.

“Hello, sorry I was fixing her... apron!” He said quickly bringing a hand to your back and fiddling with the tied string. You rolled your eyes, the boy giggled at how silly Fred’s tone was.

“You know how clumsy she gets- now what did you need help with?” You glared at him as he was whisked away by the kid, but also noticing that your apron strings were now undone. You shook your head at how much of a troublemaker Fred was.

---

As soon as Fred was done recommending a product to the boy, he walked over to where you were standing with your arms crossed. You were lucky that the last few customers had already exited before this. Surprising as well, since it was just before your lunch break.

“Yes?” He asked. You stayed put in your crossed arm form.

“’Yes?’ You call your girlfriend clumsy and you say ‘yes’?”

“Well, you didn’t let me finish, darling.” Fred leaned against the shelf slightly and threaded one of this hands through your loose hair. “She’s a little clumsy, yes- but she’s also smart, funny, kind, drop dead gorgeous...” He placed a kiss somewhere on your face for each thing he listed. You blushed at his words and placed your hands on his forearms.

“And sometimes she looks like a pygmy puff early in the mornings, but- hey! Ow!”

“Well then I think you’re just a right prat.” He gasped dramatically at your statement which made you laugh.

“That hurts...” he said softly with a pout trying to sound in pain. “Care to make it up to me?” And just like that, his cheeky nature returned. He asked the question while tapping his lips with his index finger- you knew what he was implying.

“You, Fred Weasley are too much for me.” You sighed bringing him in for the kiss he was wanting all this time. He happily leaned in as well, connecting your lips together and moving in sync.

You couldn’t even focus, let alone control where those hands of his were touching you; one on the nape of your neck, and the other on your waist. He purposely backed you up a little against the shelf, careful not to knock any of the products over. It caused him to push his lips more, and soon slipped his tongue in your mouth.

“Fred. (Y/n).” called George quietly from just outside his room. You heard him, but Fred didn’t seem to.

“Fred...-” you said in between breaths, hardly able to say his name. You tapped him on the shoulder to signal him to pull away. He groaned as he listened, not wanting to stop.

“To be fair she was staring at my arse, first.”

“Fred!”

“Ew... fix your clothes wouldn’t you, children.” said George putting the jacket he was holding in front of him to cover the view of you.

“George, where have you been, mate? Haven’t seen you much this morning.” inquired Fred. He was right now that he mentioned it. You only saw George a bit this morning, but he often seemed like he was rushing.

“I have a date.” He said. You and Fred’s eyebrows raised. You were all living with each other yet he gets a date out of the blue?!

“Georgie, that’s great! Who’s your date?” you said happily before your boyfriend could spit out something offensive.

“I have a date with Angelina.” He said pursing his lips and nodding his head. His behaviour was oddly monotone despite having a date. You squealed in excitement for your two best friends who have finally got the courage to make something happen.

“Oh bloody hell, I have a date with Angelina... what am I going to do, what do I say?” Turns out George was just a little nervous. You and Fred both giggled. You bid George goodbye as he walked out the shop door. You were happy for him, and Angelina- you noticed the shy smile on his face as he walked out. You knew it was going to go well for them.

Just as a short moment of silence came over, Fred suddenly had a thought in mind.

“Wait, does this mean that ‘No PDA’ sign is no more?” He asked with a large grin upon his face. Oh god, you knew how this conversation was going to end.

“We don’t know if George’s date is going to go well.” You said shrugging. You knew it would, but you were trying to counter him. Fred’s eyebrows raised as if to say, ‘really?’

“Well...” he started with a smirk appearing and his hands reaching to your hips again. “Why don’t we find out? Test out its limits?”

You shook your head, both at how sneaky he was being, and to also try to mask the red on your face.

“Frederic Gideon Weasley...” you said in a tone attempting to be demanding. You watched as he bit his lip, clearly knowing what you were going to say. Why did your boyfriend have to be so attractive? You were also leaning into his touch, and that’s how he knew he had you.

“You are way too much trouble.” you said pointing a finger to him.

“Was that a yes?” he asked cheekily. He knew you were trying to avoid his question.

“It wasn’t a no.” you said trying to supress the smile on your face as you were whisked away to your bedroom by your loving boyfriend.

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malfoys-demigod · 4 years

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Thinking Out Loud - Draco Malfoy x Reader

Requested by the lovely @the--queen-of-hell

A/N: We agreed to set their ages to 19 during the post war year

5 months.

5 months to be exact when the ultimate wizarding war had finally ended. Some people can agree that 5 months can be so quick that they already forgot that time flew swiftly by in a blink of an eye. For you, 5 months since the war felt like 5 weeks since the war.

The many things that you’ve experienced first-handedly were still too easily played in your mind. First was when you thought your friend Harry had died. He was the one true person who could have saved the wizarding world from the biggest disaster the world could have faced. Seeing his body roll out onto the floor was just hard to process. But finding out that he was actually alive to save everyone was just a relief. Then there were your parents. The people you have loved the most for your entire life. It was just a shame that they were placed under the situation of being Death Eaters. You obviously knew that they did not have a choice. It was either they played pretend Death Eaters or risking your life and theirs. They kept promising you that you would be alright, that they would be alright, and that you could return to becoming a normal family just like the time before Voldemort chose them to be Death Eaters.

The possibility of returning to a normal family was so high. During the war in Hogwarts, you were fighting, defending yourself from the other Death Eaters who in their eyes saw you as a traitor. “Traitor!” they’d call you as they tried hexing the life out of you. “You should have joined your parents like the pureblood you are!” they kept telling you. “Let’s teach her the consequences of becoming a traitor.” was the last thing a group of Death Eaters threatened you as both your parents Stupefied the group, running to your aid to check up on you.

Knowing that there was no time to do this, you grabbed their arms and tried making it to the ends of the corridors which had a door to seal off the Death Eaters who were regaining consciousness from their hits. You could hear them grunt angrily as they started hexing in your direction. When you made your way outside, your parents hugged you tightly and told you, “Our dearest, Y/N. Know that we will always be in your heart as we love you with all our hearts.” as they cupped your face tightly. Your eyes widened, realizing why they had said that. “No.” was all you begged from them. They looked at you sympathetically and gave you one last hug and ran back in to fence off the Death Eaters that were going after you. “I love you, mother and father.” was all you could say as they started closing the doors, looking at you with an uplifting look. “GO! RUN!” your mother said as your father finally locked at the doors.

Fighting off the tears in your eyes, you turned around and ran as fast as you could, returning to the battle. Aside from Harry and Dumbledor, you couldn’t name a single person you have witnessed that had the same courage and passion as your parents. They were the people that motivated you to become as courageous and passionate as them. You knew in your heart that if you ever became a parent, you would do the exact same thing as them and save the life of your child.

You were very fortunate enough to have Narcissa and Lucius as your other set of parents. Of course you couldn’t love them enough just as you did with your parents but they have been nothing but welcoming and supportive of you. Ever since the war, you have been living in Malfoy Manor with them and Draco. Aside from being that important person in Draco’s life, they were more than happy to grant you their home as they were great friends with you parents.

You father was like a brother to Lucius. They were best friends since birth as their families knew each other well. Their friendship grew stronger during their Hogwarts years. If one of them had detention, it was very well known that the other would tag along in their detention because they were the cause of whatever reason the professor had to send them off. After their Hogwarts years, they became work-mates as your father became a respective wizard in the Ministry, just like Lucius as they always playfully competed against each other in their respective jobs. Your mother and Narcissa on the other hand had a similar story. They despised each other during their first years in Hogwarts. Why? They were after the same boy that they have been childishly crushing on. It was a little girl-to-girl competition for them as they tried going out of their ways to have them get noticed by their crush. Discovering that the person they were crushing on was only interested in boys, their small rivalry thawed, apologizing in the end for being obsessive over the same person. They became best of friends after they started helping each other out when they began crushing over different men who were your father and Lucius respectively. According to them, they always had these double dates at first since they were both too shy to have individual dates. Who knew later on, they’d be having catch ups even after they all settled down with children.

Lucius and Narcissa consider their deaths something always worth remembering. They always get reminded of the good times they shared with their best friends whenever they look at you. Lucius would get reminded of your father’s humor and intelligence whenever you make a joke or study with Draco. Narcissa would remember how much of a beautiful person your mother turned out to be whenever you dressed up for dates with Draco or simply looked exactly like her when you let your hair down. From the minute they heard about your parents’ deaths, they swore to take you in like the daughter they never had and protect you for your parents.

They were very much happy to have you. It also made Draco the happiest person in the world. This young man loved you with all his heart and it was also his idea to take you in after the war. His heart broke as well when he found out about the death of your parents. They treated him as if he was their son as well. Draco couldn’t stand seeing you sob the minute the war ended. Before he and his parents had the chance to leave, he ran to the entrance doors of the castle to a sobbing you. He thought he lost you but seeing that you were alive by the steps wanted him to drop to his knees and thank Merlin for protecting you. “I’m here, Y/N. I’m here,” Draco spoke as he tried to calm you down. “M-my parents.” was all you could blurt out but Draco already realized what you meant. He didn’t do anything but wrap you in his arms as he tried having you stand up. He kept apologizing for what happened. “I should have been there to protect them, to protect you.” He said, “Come home with us.” He advised. Draco briefly explained how he could take you home with him as you could both heal emotionally and physically from all the trauma. You had no other choice but to follow him since his family was practically family.

Now, 5 months later, there you were with Draco, laying on his chest as you both cuddled in your shared bed. There were no words being exchanged at the moment as the both of you appreciated the sound of the winds outside as it was soothing to the ears. You were practically cuddling in bed with Draco silently now for an hour that he assumed that you were asleep already. With his thoughts on you swimming around his head, he started thinking out loud.

“Oh, Y/N. Sweet Y/N,” he started speaking out loud as he stroked the loose strands of hair falling out of your frame.

“Wouldn’t you believe it has been 5 months since everything happened? It’s still difficult for me to realize how long it has been. It still feels like we had just gotten home from Hogwarts. I carried you to my room as we laid on my bed, exactly the way we’re laying right now. The only thing that changed is the way I feel about you. Now don’t be alarmed, sweetheart. Ever since the day we came back home, there were many things that I've been thinking about but there was this one thought that I’ve been seriously considering dearly. I love you with all my heart. You know that. You’re the reason why I strive to become a better person everyday. Without you, I wouldn’t be this person, a person who is currently transforming to become a whole new person inside. I constantly want to thank you for that but I just don’t know how. I know I’m not completely transformed yet but I really want to be a better person everyday and I believe that with you by my side, you could help me realize that everyday can be a new possibility to becoming a much better person. I know we're only nineteen but I feel like I’m ready to take our relationship to a whole new level. We’ve gone through so much together and I just want to propose my love for you officially. I just want to ask you the big question already which is: Will you marry me, Y/N?”

With that, Draco sighed as he thought you weren’t awake to hear all of this. Fortunately, you were awake the entire time.

You stopped yourself from crying the minute he asked the big question. This was very unbelievable. Not because he asked early but that it was actually happening. You were more than proud to hear every word that came from his mouth. He truly was transforming.

Happily hearing the question, you slowly face your boyfriend with a warm smile. “Yes, a thousand times.” You softly reply to him as you watch his eyes widen with a sudden surprise.

Draco froze for a good three seconds realizing that he did not come prepared with the best engagement ring yet. He looked down at his family ring, the one he constantly wears to show the Malfoy pride.

“With this,” he said, removing the ring from his finger and transferring to yours, “I welcome you to the Malfoy family. Of course the ring is temporary. Not to worry, dear. I will bestow you the best ring in the entire world once we get things settled.”

You cupped his face with the hand that had the ring as you looked at him with sweetness in your eyes. “It’s beautiful. I love you, Draco Lucius Malfoy.”

“I love you more, Y/N Y/L/N soon to be Malfoy.”

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capsironunderoos · 3 years

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Five Minutes

Eggsy Unwin X GN!Reader

Summary: Eggsy gets a suspicious call from the reader who’s off on an assignment.

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Death, blood, and mentions of the reader skipping breakfast, but not for any reason other than time and that feeling you get when you wake up too early and you can’t eat.

Author’s Note: I had some requests to post this a while back and never did and I just randomly remembered it tonight. Also, I’m pretty sure the reader is gender neutral, but if I accidentally left in something that contradicts that please let me know! It’s kind of short, but I hope you guys enjoy!

Here’s a link to my masterlist: capsironunderoos masterlist

Your body is slack against the cool wall behind you, the silence of the hallway before you almost echoing and overpowering the footsteps you’re sure you hear from far off.

The hallway has now begun to spin too, but maybe that’s just because you hadn’t had much to eat for breakfast.

While you were a top agent for the Kingsman association, able to crack codes almost as fast as you could break someone’s neck, it would take an army just to get you to eat breakfast.

Or a stubborn boyfriend who swore he only wanted the best for you, which equaled you not falling out at some point during your busy day due to the lack of sustenance in your system.

At the thought of your boyfriend, a smile forms on your face and you slowly lift your watch to your eye-line, trying your best to combat the wave of nausea from moving.

A few memorized movements later and you’re waiting to hear his voice cut through the comms in your ear.

In the pause of waiting, you notice the excess sweat running down your forehead and your inability to catch a deep breath.

You promise yourself that you’ll talk your boyfriend into taking you to lunch once you’ve got him on the phone.

“Hello my darling.”

His voice interrupts your thought process on where exactly you plan on talking him into going for lunch.

“Hello Eggsy.” You reply cheerily.

“It’s early. How did it go? I mean, it must’ve gone good yeah? You are calling me.”

You giggle as he rambles, knowing how easily he worries about you.

“It went well. I broke the code and sent the information to Merlin.”

“Any bad guys?”

“Not anymore.” You sing-song and he laughs, the noise temporarily clearing your muddled thoughts.

“(Y/N),” he starts, and his change in tone makes you uneasy.

“Are you still on site?”

You close your eyes in defeat and press your head against the wall behind you.

It would be just like you to forget the tracker in your watch.

And the camera in your glasses.

“What are you doing sitting down? Is everything alright?”

You sigh and gasp for air for a moment, a ragged breath escaping your lips before you can answer.

“Just needed a moment love. I skipped breakfast again this morning.”

The sigh he emits isn’t one of relief, it’s more “I know you’re lying but I’m not going to say anything.”

The line falls silent for a beat before he begins to tell you about his next assignment and then an update on Roxy, who’s been on assignment in America for a few months now.

He’s trying to help you put your mind on other things besides what he thinks is just your stomach growling at you for skipping the most important meal of the day.

You respond at the right times and he’s none the wiser, seemingly having forgotten, or just not noticed, that you haven’t moved from your spot on the floor.

It hasn’t been happening for long, but you’ve tried your best to stop it.

You’d noticed it earlier as Eggsy was telling you about Roxy falling in front of an important Statesman, but you’d refused to acknowledge that it was anything other than the residue from that close call with the knife.

When you finally glance down to look at your side and take in the damage you hear Eggsy stop.

Your fingers are stained red and sticky, and it takes an exorbitant amount of strength to pry them away from your side.

You laugh and Eggsy is now the one who can’t catch his breath.

“I didn’t eat breakfast today.”

“I know, you told me.” He whispers and you can hear Merlin murmuring something in the background about being late.

You don’t remember telling him.

“I don’t remember that. I don’t even remember why I called you. Or what I’m doing here.”

Your voice trails off and Eggsy wants to scream.

He wants to yell and fuss.

Why didn’t you call him sooner?

Why didn’t you try to make it back to the airplane?

Why did you call him and pretend everything was okay?

Why had he just simply believed everything was okay?

“Darling can you stay awake for me? Me and Merlin are on our way.”

You hum, feeling faint and tired.

“He came outta nowhere. I mean, you shoulda seen ‘em. Fast.” You slur and Eggsy can’t move fast enough to get to you.

He knows it’s too far. Deep down he does, really. You’re quite literally a plane ride away.

But he won’t accept that. He can’t.

What kind of Kingsman would he be if he gave up on another agent? What kind of person would he be if he gave up on you?

That’s what he tells Merlin to convince him to go to you.

“Keep telling me about him, my love.”

He knows that all of the pet names in the world won’t keep this from unfolding, but that doesn’t stop him.

He wishes he could see you, instead of staring down the stark and empty hallway in front of you.

You hear him shuffling around and Merlin talking to him in the background, but all you can focus on is how the red of your blood has woven itself into the pattern of your favorite suit.

“This...” you cry out suddenly, and Eggsy’s heart constricts, “was my favorite suit.”

You’re surprised to feel cool tears streaming down your face and you slowly reach up to wipe them away.

“I know, but we’ll have you another one made just like it, okay?”

He glances to Merlin and Merlin nods.

“Tell her.” He provokes and Eggsy can feel tears sitting against his waterline.

“Listen, my darling, I love you okay?” He forces out and he can hear you sniffle.

“I love you too.”

Your weak reply nearly stops his heart, the only urge for it to continue beating being the feeling of the plane’s wheels landing against the earth.

Eggsy has barely allowed Merlin to stop the plane before he is running, running, running.

He rounds the corner and stops so fast that Merlin literally knocks into him.

But Eggsy is stone. He is unmoving.

You were this close to the door? One more turn and you could have been home.

With him.

Safe.

His feet feel heavy as lead, dragging themselves to where you sit, body slumped against the wall.

Your fingers lay open on top of your wound, blood still slowly wrapping around them.

He can tell you’ve tried to wipe away the few tears you let fall by the messy streaks of blood that line your cheeks.

Your red-soaked suit sends him over the edge and he crumbles onto the floor beside you, knees hitting your hip as he wraps his shaking hands around your face, turning you towards him.

Minutes.

It took a mere five minutes to rip you away from the Kingsman.

From the job you adored, and the friends you’d made.

From him.

After everything, all of the birthdays and holidays and brunches and assignments and love, all it took was five minutes.

“It’s not fair.” He murmurs to anyone who cares to listen and Merlin shifts behind him.

Merlin has seen death in the field before, but he is speechless when it comes to offering a word of comfort now.

Eggsy pulls you against him, your blood now starting to color his suit red.

“You did so good darling.”

#eggsy x reader #eggsy x you #kingsman eggsy #eggsy unwin #eggsy #eggsy unwin x y/n #kingsman x reader #Kingsman #underooswrites

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daydream-believin · 3 years

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The Never-Ending Roadtrip (Cavern Creeps)

SUMMARY: Reader joins Douxie in the quest for Nari’s safety. He’ll need company won’t he? PART 8) Douxie is not having a good time, Nari is not having a good time, no one is having a good time. start -> (part 1) next -> (part 9) WARNINGS: swearing, lots of panic and anxiety, anxiety attack WORD COUNT: 2420 A/N: it’s becoming increasingly clear that i do not have any control over where the plot goes in this fic. i never have and i never will. seriously the outline prompt for this one was ‘some downtime in trollmarket’ idk what happened

Douxie opened his eyes. He had been having a dream in which he was lost in a series of caves. No matter how many walls he marked to keep track, he couldn’t remember which way he came from. The marks kept disappearing. He’d etch them with all his strength, and they would fade. The tunnels were endless. He was sure he was too far underground now. The oxygen was getting thin. He had to find the way back up. He had to. The others were waiting for him. His chest got tighter, his breaths shallower. Why was this so hard?

Turns out both Y/n and Archie were sleeping on his chest. No wonder dream-him couldn’t breathe. He wouldn’t move them. The gentle snores filled his ears. It was still late, or more, early. Doux wouldn’t be able to breathe well enough to go back to sleep without another strange dream, so he didn’t try. That was okay. He got a solid three hours in, and that was better than most nights. He felt relaxed in the embrace of his small family. Douxie listened to their breathing. It was cozy, snuggled with the two people who mean the most to him, feeling their heartbeats against his own chest. This is how it would always be, just the three of them. Three magic signatures. No one else in the room. Wait.

Douxie tried his best to keep from waking Y/n and Archie when he bolted upright. He failed. Y/n groggily took in her husband as his panicked gaze shot around the room. She didn’t know why he was panicked but it made her panicked. Y/n also looked around the room to help despite not knowing what she was looking for. Douxie gently nudged her off and moved Archie so he could stand up. Y/n reached her hand up to him, silently asking to be pulled up and Douxie obliged. As she stood to her feet, Y/n got another look around, taking in the whole of the room. Now slightly more awake, the gears turned and she realized what was wrong with the scene. Nari.

Bleeding balroths, they lost the veggie lady. The one person they were supposed to keep close, protect form the Order, or the fucking world will end, and they lost her. Granted, they were asleep when it happened, but still. They lost her. Douxie and Y/n burst out of the door with Archie in tow. Douxie had hoped Nari would have just been in the living room but nope he couldn’t be that lucky. Figures. He could feel his racing heart in his throat as the impact of what was happening settled in his chest.

Douxie quick as lightning scanned all of Trollmarket that his eyes could see. Nari was nowhere to be found. He could barely hear Y/n and Archie start calling out the forest spirit’s name above the incredibly loud screaming inside his head. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. Merlin was going to kill him. The Arcane order wasn’t even going to get the chance to end the world before Merlin’s ghost strangled him right here and now.

They were running through the streets of the village, asking every troll they came across if they’d seen her. No luck. Archie couldn’t find her as he flew over either. Douxie kept checking shops over and over, despite Y/n telling him they’d been in every building already and he was looking like a madman. He was a madman. Dictatious was not any help. Beyond seeing the veggie lady leave the house, and not caring enough to alert Doux, he had no idea where she might be. At least now they knew she’d only been out for a little over half an hour. She couldn’t have left the settlement, could she? Could she? Douxie felt ice water flow into his veins.

A quick check of inventory and sure enough, no horngazzle. Oh, fuzzbuckets. FUZZBUCKETS! Y/n went off to acquire another horngazzle from Bagdwella, sprinting across the town, and leaving Douxie alone with his thoughts. The world was gonna end soon, and it would be all his fault. He knew he shouldn’t have trusted the forest child. He had a feeling she was going to have been his downfall, he just hadn’t expected it so soon, or like this.

It’s over. The Arcane Order will win. The universe will be destroyed. He will have failed the one thing he was supposed to be doing. He had one job. Merlin’s last dying wish. And he had botched it. His short reign as a master wizard would be incapsulated by failure. This was his fault. He started taking risks, he stopped listening to Merlin, he stopped studying, he started making his own path, and now he was gonna take everyone else down with him.

Douxie saw Y/n blast out of the shop and head towards the grand entrance gate. His chest felt tight, and he couldn’t breathe again, even though he didn’t have both a wife and a dragon weighing his ribcage down this time. He felt his own feet carrying him the direction of the gate to meet Y/n but barely registered the scenery going by in a blur. Doux barely registered Archie land on his shoulder and the dragon claws digging into his flesh as he watched Y/n drag the magic key across the cavern wall in an arch. If it had been any other time he would have enjoyed the cute little way she did it. She was like a ballerina, leaping as she made the motion. It was an effort to make the door taller so Doux could walk through it without hitting his head, and it worked. Good thing too, as he wasn’t paying enough attention to not when he absent-mindedly ran past her and out of the gate like he was on fire.

When Y/n caught up to the other two, Douxie was huffing and puffing hunched over while Archie made an effort to fan his brother with his wings. The dragon cool-off was not entirely effective. Douxie wildly tossed his head around as he visually searched the area around the river and bridge. His pupils were wide with fear. As scary as this was, it pained Y/n to see him scared like this. She knew he struggled with anxiety, and had even seen his attacks before, but this was amped up to an eleven. She didn’t like it.

As desperate as they were, with the time ticking away, Y/n decided what was best was to calm Douxie down before they did anything else. She pulled him close into her embrace, letting him rest his head on her chest. Her steady heartbeat was bringing him slightly back down to earth.

“Shhhh, I’m here.” Y/n rubbed comforting circles on his back. “Can you look up for me?” It took a moment, but Douxie managed to grant her request. His hazel eyes were still blown wide, haunted. “Good, good. Let’s take some deep breaths. Okay, can you tell me five things you can see?”

Douxie shifted, looking beyond Y/n’s back. “Uh,- river,, trash, in river,,- tree, other trees,, Archie, you.”

“Okay, four things you can feel?”

He breathing was starting to go back to its regular pace. “You,, your hands on my back,, Archie rubbing my legs- the wind.”

“Good. Three you can hear?”

Douxie straightened, his voice sounding a lot calmer, “the wind in the trees, the water in the river, Archie purring.”

This prompted Archie to purr louder in support. “You good now or do you need to smell?” Y/n chuckled.

“Yeah, I think I’m fine now.” Douxie smiled, albeit weakly. Y/n gave him another grounding hug for good measure. She looked past his shoulder as she squeezed, something catching her eye. She let go of her wizard and started off towards the trees behind him.

“Where are you going?” Y/n was a bit worried about how strained Douxie’s voice still was.

“Well,” She turned around to face him and gestured her hands as she spoke, “If I was a forest goddess, where would I be? The forest of course.” She motioned to the treeline. Yeah, she was right. That made sense. He caught up and grabbed her hand for her to guide him to wherever they were going. He needed to hold her hand. It was her left hand, he could feel the cool metal of the ring on her finger. That helped.

They desperately wandered through the trees with no luck. It’s not like they had a veggie lady tracking device. They should get a veggie lady tracking device. Perhaps disguised as a bracelet cuff. She’d like that it was similar to Douxie, so she’d actually wear it. Or maybe they’d just get one of those baby leashes. Bad little forest goddesses have to wear the baby leash of shame. Maye she wouldn’t mind it, if it was shaped like a teddy bear or something. They’d cross that bridge when they got there. Once they found her. If the Arcane Order hadn’t got to her first.

The couple passed so many trees they started to all look the same. Oak, river birch, river birch, oak, sugar maple, oak, oak, oak, river birch. Every now and then there would be a troll carving on a tree or a rock, that they could use as landmarks, but they still had no idea where they were anymore. Thankfully, it was impossible to get lost with Archie around. Speak of the devil, the black dragon appeared through the trees again, calling them over to follow him.

The cat-dragon led them along many twists and turns in the forest. Every now and then Y/n would catch glimpse of a deer trail, but no signs of humans. Douxie accidentally bumped his head on a tree branch because Y/n had pulled him along so fast he didn’t have time to duck. Okay, so Doux didn’t accidentally bump his head as much as Y/n had accidentally made him. It wasn’t that low. She had had no trouble with it herself. It wasn’t her fault he was a giant. He should think of that next time before becoming over six foot. After what seemed like a lifetime, the started approaching a small tributary of the river. A small tributary that a small forest goddess was kneeling beside.

“NARI!” Y/n couldn’t help but cry out in relief at the sight of Nari safe and sound. The loudness of Y/n’s voice startled the veggie lady, and she whipped her head around to see the others as the joined her. Nari’s expression of surprise quickly morphed into one of guilt, like a child getting caught with their hand in the cookie jar. While neither of them looked particularly angry at her, she thought Hisirdoux was a little worse for wear. She supposed she’d caused that. She was always causing trouble for others it seemed. Just in the last week she’d gotten two homes destroyed, several humans injured, and worst of all, Merlin was gone now. It was all her fault.

Nari wasn’t aware of the tears streaming down her face until Y/n was wiping them away. She had crouched down to comfort the little spirit, “Hey, hey now, it’s okay, none of us are mad. We were just really scared for a bit there. But its alright, Nari. We’re just happy you’re safe.”

The forest child tucked her face into the crook of Y/n’s shoulder. Douxie stood a distance away. Archie was perched on his shoulder once again. He shifted between his feet, feeling the soft earth and wet grass of the riverside. Doux couldn’t shake a certain feeling of uneasiness and his familiar sensed his anxious energy. He had his staff raised and all ready to go if the trees so much as shake in the wind. Nothing happened. But he was ready.

He knew it was irrational, but Douxie couldn’t help but feel like they were near. The Order. Something was off in the air. They needed to get Nari back underground fast. However, he was worried that such a thing wouldn’t stop them, and he would just be damning the trolls and their new happy settlement. He hadn’t been too sure before about the plans Y/n had for tomorrow, but now he was. They would be safer if they got to a heavily populated area. It would mask their scent. They had lingered in Trollmarket for far too long now. They would be overstaying their welcome big time if the Arcane Order showed up.

Once Nari had calmed down quite a lot and the tears had long stopped flowing, Y/n wanted to get to the bottom of the reasons for this little late-night escapade. She fixed a braid on the side of Nari’s hair as she asked, “Can you tell me why you decided to come out here.” She was careful not to word it accusatively, lest she upset the poor frightened spirit further.

“I- I needed to get out from there. It’s so cold. There’s no stars down there. The air doesn’t move.”

Y/n nodded to express her sympathy. “I understand.” She really did. Trolls were great, but the underground vibes just weren’t for everyone. It was easy to feel trapped in Trollmarket. Like the world was weighing you down. The cavern over your head going to collapse at any moment. She stood to her feet, waiting a beat before asking, “Do you think you can go back down there for a little while longer? I promise we’ll come back outside in the morning.”

Nari looked up and smiled, taking Y/n’s hand as she helped her up, “Yes. I think I’m ready to go back now. For just a little while longer.”

~ ~ ~

Once they were all safe and sound back in Trollmarket, Y/n was relived. It was early morning by then, and the sun was rising outside, but they still had enough time to get a few more hours in. She looked up at her husband. Bags under his eyes as always, she didn’t think he’d be able to fall back to sleep after all this, actually. A few more hours of cuddle time, then. They passed by the pub on their way home. That could help ease poor Doux. Y/n nudged him with her shoulder, “Wanna go get a pint or two?”

Douxie chuckled, “Nah, I’m not one for glug. It’s a tad too gamey for me.”

“How bout we make some chamomile tea once we get home then?”

“Oh, that sounds heavenly.”

#hisirdoux casperan x reader #douxie x reader #douxie casperan x reader #douxie x y/n #douxie imagine #hisirdoux x reader #hisirdoux casperan imagine #douxie headcanons #douxie casperan imagine #tales of arcadia x reader #hisirdoux casperan #tales of arcadia imagine #douxie #my writing #nert

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jamilelucato · 4 years

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The History Of Wrong Guys

Pairing: Bill Weasley x reader (platonic)

Based on the song The History Of Wrong Guys, from the musical Kinky Boots.

Summary: you and Bill are co-works and suddenly you noticed you were thinking about him a little too much.

Musical Hogwarts List

A/N: there’s a little twist at the end and that’s all I’m gonna say.

You’ve been working for the Gringotts Wizarding Bank for six years. Things were always the same — you were responsible for paperwork; contracts, international business, and client interactions. Literally, anything that the goblins didn’t feel like doing was your job.

Simple, easy and money guaranteed.

Working behind a desk was kind of boring, but you weren’t the only wizard around — there were other two working with you. Other two really old co-works who had been there for Merlin-knows how long an didn’t like to chat, but still... not alone, you know.

Jannet and Gabriel — the other two wizards around — use to say your habit of chatting, making jokes and treating work with fun ways was going to get you fired but there you were, six years of doing it and no goblin asked you to leave.

Jannet was more susceptible to talk, but she was a bore. She refused to know anything muggle-related — even though your jobs were very much like muggles — so she didn’t get any of the references you mentioned.

Rumours about the rising of He-Who-Most-Not-Be-Named were circulating around the Bank, and much to you and your wizard co-workers dismay, the goblins seemed really found of having the Dark Lord around.

The only good thing those rumours got you was your new desk neighbour: Bill Weasley.

Bill was tall and ginger, with beautiful eyes — not that any of this matters. Anyway, Bill used to do curse-breaking work, but he was having some issues with his family — as if you didn’t know about the Order of the Phoenix — and so he had to be relocated to your workplace, in Diagon Alley.

Bill was a blessing to the place.

At first, you two never talked. It was only “good morning” and “have a nice weekend”, but it all changed when, without notice, you said out loud one of the catchphrases from one of the muggle shows you were watching.

See, this would generally pass unnoticed, because Jannet and Gabriel had no idea what that was about and they only thought you were crazy, but Bill knew what show you were referencing. He knew and he replied with the answer of the catchphrase!

And since then you two had managed to become friends, exchanging jokes and funny remarks every time you guys had a break. You even shared lunch two days in a roll because Bill’s mom didn’t have time to prepare it (yep, you made fun of him because of it).

Sometimes it felt like he was trying to recruit you to the Order of Phoenix but you were never sure because he never went through with it — he’d walk away before finishing his questions.

You never pressured him about because if he asked, you’d be tempted to say yes, but, truthfully, you really didn’t to be a part of it.

One day, you two took your break for lunch together, so you sat at the same table at the Leaky Cauldron.

“It’s nice having a co-worker,” he commented in between bites.

“You worked alone? When curse-breaking, I mean,” you asked, avoiding gazing at him for too long. You noticed you had been doing it a lot lately.

“It’s generally a one-person job,” he explained, shrugging. “Never wanted to leave for an adventure?”

“Ah,” you sighed, playing with your food. That was a sensitive matter for you. “Never had the guts.”

“What a horrible example for your fellow feminists,” he mocked, almost choking with his food while laughing.

With the fork, you threw a pea in his face.

“Hey!” he shouted, still laughing.

“Don’t ever say I’m not feminist enough, Weasley,” you warned, raising a brow, but inside you were laughing as well.

“I didn’t say that,” he smirked.

You exhaled, letting out a small giggle. He was going to drive you crazy...

“Let’s go back, or we’ll be late,” he pressed you to fast eat — which he knew you hated.

“I still need to pay, Weasley,” you pointed out, tossing food in as fast as you could.

“I’ve got you covered, y/L/N,” he said, showing you the receipts.

Without even noticing, you blushed. He was a gentleman and you didn’t deserve it. All those years complaining about Jannet and Gabriel finally had paid off.

When you arrived at the Bank, a beautiful, blond, tall and thin woman started walking towards you. She probably wanted something — the goblins left pretty girls at the door to attract customers, which was an excellent tactic, but then they never knew how to differentiate who was a customer and who was an employee.

You were getting prepare to shove her off when she reached for Bill’s arms.

“Thought we were lunching together, Bill,” the blondie said with a heavy French accent.

Bill blushed.

“Oh, Merlin, I’m so sorry, Fleur, I completely forgot... I was able to head out early and I didn’t...” Bill’s tone showed concerned, and you noticed he was scared of her.

You watched the scene quietly.

“It’s okay, love, I am not angry,” she said, smiling. “Do you still have time left?”

Bill looked at his watch and then at you.

“A couple of minutes,” he informed her, not daring to look back at you again.

And you understood — he wanted you to disappear. So you rushed to the lift, hoping, praying for it to open and fast.

Once the door opened, you practically jumped in and pressed all the buttons so it would close.

Why were you feeling like that?

“Oh no, you don't dare. Girl, girl, girl, I'm warning you!” you shouted aloud in the elevator, not really caring because you were alone. You facepalmed. “No! I think I have a crush. I can't. I think I'm falling for him...Oh no...”

That was why you felt weird back then. You were jealous.

You shouldn’t be felling that, but then again, women have been making bad choices since the beginning of time. Are you gonna be another one of mine? you thought, used to think he was from outer space. Who's that bright-eyed guy in your place? He’s kinda cute when he’s not so shy...

“But I've been here before. Have I come back for more?” you talked to the reflection of yourself in the mirror of the lift. It was another chapter in the history of wrong guys.

You turned around, pressing your back in the mirror. “Bill, honestly, I've been hurt like this before. Is there really more to you than what I always thought?” you whispered, groaning. “How can you surprise me anymore?”

Fine, you had a crush on him. But you were, clearly, not the only one; I mean, that blondie downstairs was all over him...

It’s okay, love, her voice echoed in your head.

“He's got a girlfriend, you flake!” you slapped yourself, really hard. “Why are they only nice when they're unavailable?!”

You didn’t wanna be another star-crossed lover, you knew how that ends.

“I’m better off without him. We’re better off as friends,” you said aloud, hoping those words would fix in your mind.

It was definitely another chapter in the history of wrong guys. After all, yesterday, no spark, no heart aching allure. But today you felt something impossible to ignore.

Let me clear the history of wrong guys for all of those wondering:

Chapter One - He's a bum;

Two - He's not into you;

Three - He's a sleaze;

Four - Loves the girl next door;

Five - Loves the boy next door;

Six - Don't love you no more, makes you insecure, makes you so unsure, is so immature, loves his mother more

He has a girlfriend named Fleur.

The elevator door opened when you rushed out of it. You sat down at your table but you were unable to find a good position. After all, all of them faced Bill’s table.

How were you going to look at him now? Merlin, you had spent most of the time flirting with him, openly! He probably knew you liked him, and even if not, he would find weird if you suddenly stopped.

And if you didn’t stop, you were going to fall for him deeper than you had already.

It was funny how he needed to have a pretty girl around to make you realized you had feelings for him. And funny how you thought he’d pick you.

“Where are you going?” asked Jannet.

“Home,” you answered, gathering your things from your table.

“What? Are you—”

“I’m feeling sick, Jannet. I’ll be back tomorrow, okay, don‘t be a bore,” you said, rolling your eyes, before hurrying to the lift again. You just hoped Bill wouldn’t pop out of it.

***

You stared at your ceiling for the whole afternoon. And after eating dinner, you kept looking at it.

What were you going to do? You couldn’t keep taking leaves.

Perhaps this was a sign from the universe for you to get the hell out of there.

You hated that desk job, you hated the temperatures in London, you hated your flat...

***

Arriving at the Bank, you rushed to your supervisor before even saying good-morning to the goblins around.

“Is Bill’s old job still available?” you asked the boss goblin who didn’t even look awake yet.

“I’m sorry?”

“Bill Weasley’s old job. Curse-breaker,” you said as if you were in a hurry. And you were, because, if it didn’t do it today, you wouldn’t do it ever. “Is it still available?”

“Yes, but—” the goblin looked around his office, maybe he was looking for some paper.

“No buts, I want it. I’ll go, wherever you want me, just say.”

“Are you sure about that, miss y/L/N?” he asked, taking off his glasses.

“Yes, I am. I’ll go right now if you want.”

“Okay, okay. I see you are committed. I’ll work things out.”

You smiled and sat down at the chair in front of you. The goblin didn’t seem to like, but he said nothing else and you waited there for your further directions, pressing your purse against your fast-beating heart.

***Months later...

In your hand was a letter that you did not expect to receive.

They really had given you Bill’s old job, so your new home was now Egypt. It was hot in the day, cold in the night, exactly the type of weather you liked.

Also, the adventures couldn’t be better. There was always a new curse to break — at first, it was hard because you had lost the hang of things wand-related, but soon enough things were exciting as ever before in your life.

But, coming back to the letter in your hands...

William Arthur Weasley and Fleur Isabelle Delacour, together with their families request your presence at the celebration of their marriage.

It followed with the date and place but it wasn’t that part that you were rereading non-stop.

Bill was going to marry and with blondie from work. Oh my, Merlin.

That was definitely another chapter in your history of wrong guys.

***

“You came!” shouted a happy Bill Weasley, wrapping you around his arms. Such strong arms... Again, not the point.

“I replied the invitation, didn’t I?” you said, with a sad smile that he thankfully couldn’t see because your face lied on his shoulder.

“Yeah, but I just...” he put you down, letting you go from his embrace. “You left with just a note, y/L/N. Not very friend-like.”

You pressed your lips together, raising your brows.

“Sorry, Weasley. They offered me the job—”

“—my job—” he interrupted.

“— and it was then or never.”

“I bet it was my conversation. When I said you were a bad feminist—” he looked down at his feet.

“Hey,” you reached his chin with your hand, raising his face. “You didn’t offend me. I needed that wake-up call.”

He smiled, blushing and you started to feel nervous. What were you doing, making a married man blush? You took a step away just for precaution.

“So, how do you like the ceremony?” he asked.

“It’s beautiful, so enchanting... You are crazy to get married at times like this, but I’ll give you credit for the decoration,” you ramble. “Although, I’m pretty sure the credit goes to Fleur.”

“Fleur,” he corrected your pronunciation but then smiled. “And yes, the decoration was all her.”

You smiled back, embarrassed for having said her name wrong.

Another red-head appeared all of a sudden next to Bill, and he had a beautiful smile. He was shorter than Bill, but not at all uglier because he had strong arms and a well-taken-care-of hair.

Sure, Bill had lost part of his charm because of some scars — a werewolf attack that didn’t work out, he explained — but he was charming in the tux. Nonetheless, the man at his side was even hotter.

“Who’s the pretty girl, Bill?” he asked, showing a voice that only completed the package. “Thought you already had a pretty girl for yourself.”

Bill sighed, half-smiling, half-serious. Only he could do such a thing.

“Charlie, this is y/N,” Bill made the honours. “Y/L/N, this is Charlie. My younger brother.”

“Younger, but hotter,” said Charlie, giving you his hand. “Nice meeting you, y/N.”

“Can say the same, Charlie,” you replied, noticing how calloused his hand was. That boy was not only a pretty face but also a hard-working man? Was that family a pot of gold?

Bill coughed, calling the attention back to himself.

“Well, now that you two know each other—” but Bill was never able to finish because Fleur pulled his arm and took him to dance floor, not even saying sorry to you or Charlie.

“Now what, brother?” Charlie asked making you laugh with his easy humour.

He then offered you his hand and you didn’t understand why until he tilted his head towards the dance floor.

“Oh, I don‘t really...”

“Come on,” he grabbed your hand anyway, and since you stopped complaining, he took it as a yes.

You smiled at him and passed your arms around his neck while he embraced your waist. It felt completely natural like you two had done it many times before. From where you were standing, you could see Bill and Fleur having fun, but the image didn’t seem to bother you anymore.

“So, how come I didn’t know you?” Charlie asked, trying to make conversation.

“I’m living in Egypt now— long story,” you added when you noticed he raised his brows. “Well, actually, I’m now in Romania, in the country’s capital. Haven’t memorized it yet.”

“No way!” he dropped your waist and stopped dancing.

“What?” you asked confused.

“I live in Romania,” he explained, stepping next to you again and grabbing your waist as if he had never stopped.

“Well, then maybe you can be my tour guy,” you said, smiling to him. “I’ve been just organizing an apartment; I know noting of the country yet.”

“Of course! Well, I’m more in the North, but I can pass at the capital at any time.”

You two stayed talking all night. It was nice to know that, although he worked with dragons and you worked with charmed objects and goblins, you two had a lot in common.

He didn’t have much knowledge around muggle’s TV shows, but lately neither have you. It was hard watching things in Egypt because it was generally in a language you didn’t speak and you hadn’t had the time to even find a TV in Romania.

Charlie managed to distract you all night, and if it weren‘t for the terrible silence that fell upon the party when a magical announcement happened, you wouldn’t have noticed how in danger you were.

“You need to Apparate out of here,” you screamed at Charlie who was now up next to you and you grabbed his hand. That made him gasp, surprised for a second but it was an automatic reaction for you with all those months undoing curses, you knew your safety instructions.

“You are the one who needs to run,” he shouted over the noise.

“I’m not going anywhere — I’m gonna help them fight,” you said. “It’s nothing I haven’t done at work before. Only ten times worse, but I can handle it.”

Funny how before changing jobs, you would have run away as quickly as possible.

“You need to go, Charles, now!” you shouted, before exploding a spell in the face of a masked wizard.

“I’m not going anywhere, y/N!” he yelled back, using his wand against another couple of dark wizards.

You two quickly exchanged looks, both raged with anger, but not at each other.

Even though you two were fighting facing a number way bigger than just the two of you, neither of you dropped each other's hand during the whole thing.

“Watch out!” you shouted, before attacking a man behind Charles that he did not have seen.

Charlie ducked just in time and the other wizard fell in pain.

“Charles, follow me,” you requested, squeezing his hand and running out of the wedding tent.

“When this all ends, woman, I’ll follow you to the ends of the Earth,” he replied with a smile. You looked away but not in time for him to not see you blushed. And that simple reaction made his night.

It was definitely a new chapter for the history of wrong guys. But, perhaps this time it was going to have a happy ending.

#bill weasley #william weasley #bill weasley x reader #bill weasley x you #bill weasley x fleur #bill weasley fanfic #hp #harry potter #charlie weasley #charlie weasley x reader #gringottsbank #hogwarts #one shot #kinky boots

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bibislut · 3 years

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Merlot and Meddling

I present to you; a fic born from the inspiration at the bottom of a bottle of wine.

Synopsis: Maybe Pansy could be right for once, maybe this is the closure Draco needs. Or maybe they’ve both just had a little too much to drink. After all, nothing bad ever came from drunk advice, right?

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 2494

Find it on Ao3

-----

Draco took a large swig of his wine, swilling it around his mouth as he thought over Pansy’s idea. The two had already finished their second bottle and were now well into their third. The blond was laying languidly on his best friend's sofa, the raven-haired witch in question haphazardly strewn across the neighbouring armchair.

“Not a chance.” Was he slurring?

“Why the fuck not?” Pansy’s high squeal of disbelief echoed in draco’s ears.

“Because it's a moronic idea.”

“No it's not.”

“Yes it is.”

“No. It. Is. Not.” Pansy enunciated each word harshly, pushing herself up. Draco flicked his eyes over to her, meeting her determined gaze. “This will be good for you, Draco. And even better for me, when I read it sober tomorrow.” She grinned.

Draco squeezed his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose as he resigned himself to the whims of a stubborn, drunk heiress, with a loud groan. “Fine.”

Pansy squealed, a horrific noise that only Draco ever got to hear. Sometimes he wished that being her best friend was a bit quieter. She clapped her hands eagerly. “Wonderful. It’s about time you got some of this mess-” She waved her hands at him, “- out.”

Draco sat up, enjoying the slight spin of the room as he downed the rest of his glass. “Top me up then, gorgeous. I’ll need my strength.” He drawled.

“In your dreams.” Pansy scoffed, placing her own empty glass on the coffee table. “I’m going to grab some parchment. Top me up too.”

If Draco was lucky enough, he’d wake up before Pansy tomorrow, and could burn the blasted thing before she could bully him about it.

----

Harry yawned widely, scratching his head as he plonked himself down at the staff table. Neville nudged the pumpkin juice towards him, shooting him a sympathetic look.

“Remind me why I took this job again, Neville?”

“Because you’re good at teaching people and making them believe in themselves?” The herbology teacher took a bite of his jam-laden toast.

Harry huffed. “Well it certainly wasn’t to stay up all night grading mock exams.” He pulled a plate of pancakes towards him. “I had more than enough of my own bloody OWLs and NEWTs.” He grumbled. “Should’ve thought this through more.”

Neville hummed. “Do you want me to pour some cold water on you?”

“Don’t even try it.” Harry smirked. “You can’t just throw water on The Saviour of The Wizarding World.”

“Did you forget I’m the one who stood up to Voldemort?” Neville raised an eyebrow.

“What has happened to you?” Harry shook his head jokingly. “Where’s the shy boy I grew up with?”

“Still bloody here.” Neville chuckled. “Just a bit more comfortable now.”

“Teaching suits you.”

“It suits you too, most days.”

Both young men turned back to their food, Harry reaching for the pot of coffee he’d asked for. The noise in the hall rose, and he looked up just in time to catch the post before it hit his plate. Being a Hogwarts alumni and a seeker definitely helped during breakfast.

It was just the usual, a copy of the day’s Daily Prophet, a copy of The Quibbler, a letter addressed in Hermione’s writing, no doubt reminding him of the Weasley spring get-together, and...another letter. He didn’t recognise the handwriting. He pried open the seal curiously, unfolding the letter inside:

-Dear Mr Potter,

The most famous, most brilliant, most bravest man to ever exist. Who’s arse we must all kiss, and lick, and fondle, though that may be just me. It really is a nice arse you know. Have you ever looked in the mirror? A truly fine specimen. You wouldn’t think it spent so much time on a broomstick being a bloody show off, but here we are, you with a nice arse and me with a picture of it in my head. How delightful.

I have been told to write this letter to get my feelings out. And though I would usually deny these feelings, everything must end - including these ridiculous thoughts. “What thoughts?” You may ask. Well, let me tell you.

I hold a rather large grudge, fuelled almost completely by my own damaged pride. Pride bruised by a lack of you in my life, and pride bruised whenever you are in my life. It is quite the conundrum, I tell you.

A lot of my feelings are unnecessary, some unscrupulous, some unwanted, unfounded, but most of them unreturned. For when have you ever looked into my eyes the way I do yours? When have you lain in the dark, retracing our encounters? Or remembering the colour of your eyes, or the pattern of your freckles, or the way you thin your lips in rage, or lick them with anxiety or when, perhaps, have you thought of me at all? Outside of your obligation to that is? Your obligation to hate me, despise me, distrust me. Please tell me that’s what it is; an obligation. Or at least tell me that you don’t anymore, don’t resent me, loathe me. That’s what I need to believe.

I certainly did you. I hated you, it's true. For many reasons. For stealing the limelight, for bettering me, for dismissing me. But I also admired you, envied you. Resented you, and myself, for my cowardice, for my choices, for having the family that I did, that I do.

I could go on and on, but the point is this- you still plague my thoughts. You still fill my head. You’re in my dreams, my nightmares, my desires…

And this is not healthy, it can’t be. Progress is healthy, moving on is healthy. And perhaps just imagining you reading this will contribute towards that.

So let me leave you with this, Potter: I feel so many things for you, and none of them can be resolved, or come to fruition. This is my attempt at goodbye. This is my attempt at starting anew. -

The writing is messy, the ink smeared in places, a stain of some kind in the bottom right corner. But Harry knows this handwriting, spent his teenage years seeing this writing, obsessing over it some nights. And he knows the writing on the front of the letter doesn’t match.

Which means Draco Malfoy did not intend for Harry to see this.

---

“Fuckkk…”

“My thoughts exactly.”

Draco’s eyes shot open, focusing on Pansy as she sat on the armchair, hair brushed, face washed, sitting in a fresh set of pyjamas. “Why the fuck are you okay?” He groaned, rubbing his face.

Pansy shrugged. “I had a pint of water and a sandwich after you passed out. Woke up feeling perfectly fine.”

“You bitch. Why didn’t you make me one?”

“And wake the beast? No, thank you.” She motioned towards where a mug of steaming tea sat under a stasis charm. “Cuppa?”

Draco hummed thankfully, sitting up carefully so as not to anger his throbbing head further. “Less of a bitch.” He murmured. He sipped at it, the warmth of it easing a bit of the tension in his body. “What time is it?”

“Just past eight.”

“So, really-fucking-early.”

“Yeah.” Pansy picked up her own mug. “I’m glad you’re awake though.”

“And why is that?” Draco sat back against the cushions, easing his shoulders as he took another sip.

“What do you remember of last night, love?”

Draco offered an exhausted chuckle. “Some of it.” He tried to think back. “We finished the third bottle of merlot, right? Or was it the fourth? And your dancing, that was great.” He snorted. “Merlin. You do squeal when you’re drunk Pans, I thought my eardrums- OH FUCK!”

“And there it is.” Pansy smiled at him.

“Oh Merlin, Pansy. Please tell me you burnt it. Please, Please.”

“I’d love to, Draco, I really would. It’s just…” She paused, looking uncharacteristically nervous. “I mean, I was drunk too.”

“Oh no, please tell me you didn’t send it to Blaise!”

“Okay, I didn’t send it to Blaise.”

“Pansy Bernadine Parkinson. What. Did. You. Do?!”

“Don’t use my full name!” She whined. “You know how much I hate-”

“Pansy!”

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? It might go well, you never know. I do sometimes have good ideas, and honesty is always the best pol-”

“PANSY!” Draco lurched forwards, his stomach doing the same. Merlin, anxiety and alcohol did not mix well.

“I sent it to Potter.” She whispered, eyes wide.

“WHAT!” Draco stood up so quickly he spilt his tea.

“You never know-”

“At Hogwarts?!” The blond slammed his cup down on the coffee table, standing over his friend.

“Yes?”

“Merlin’s tits!” Draco’s hand flew to his hair, running them through nervously as he began pacing. “Merlin’s fucking tits!”

“I mean, it's not so bad, right? You could still make it.”

“Make it?” Draco spun around to face her, his mind racing. What had he said? He didn’t even remember half of it. He was pretty sure he mentioned Potter’s arse, and maybe his father? The memories were returning slower than he’d like. Had he signed it?! “What time is it?”

Pansy cast a quick tempus. 8:11.

“Maybe I can get there before the post does?”

“Not looking like that, you can’t.”

Draco dashed over to the mirror, taking himself in. His hair was knotted and sticking on end, his trousers wrinkled, his shirt untucked and half buttoned, and he probably smelled as bad as he felt. “Shit, right, okay." He bit at his lips nervously, his head racing. “I’m going to go back to mine and shower and change.” He turned to face her. “Can you send a message through firecall asking McGonagall if I can meet her at the end of breakfast? Say something about a tour of the new quidditch pitch.”

“Yeah, yeah. Of course.”

“Wish me luck, Pans, or it’s gonna be you who’s in the shit.”

“Yeah, I get it, I’m dead to you.” Pansy waved her hand nonchalantly, as if she was already over the mess she'd created. “Just go and sort yourself out.”

-----

Harry read, and re-read the letter at least five times, barely even tasting his coffee. Was it true? Did Malfoy really care for him? He couldn’t deny that the slytherin had been his thoughts since the end of their eighth year, but to think he had been in his? That was insane, unbelievable. And yet, here he sat, holding the letter.

Maybe he was wrong, maybe it wasn’t Malfoy. Sixth year had certainly proven that he wasn’t the best at handwriting. But it added up, the ‘limelight’ , the ‘cowardice’, the ‘family’. And who else had been close enough to him to comment on his freckles, or lips, or eyes, and still matched the things that had been said like Malfoy did?

Fuck, what was he going to do?

“Come on Harry, you don’t want to be late.” He looked up at Neville. “You alright, mate?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just some unexpected news.”

“You sure? You look a bit frazzled.” Neville’s eyebrows drew together in concern.

Harry pulled on a smile. “All good. You alright?”

“I’m good. Got a whole day of first years today, you’d think they’d be better behaved this far into the year, but they can still be a bit tricky.”

“You’ll do well with them, you always do.” Harry clapped him on the shoulder.

“Thanks, Harry.”

The two men headed out of the Great Hall together. Harry was so distracted he almost didn’t recognise the head of white blond hair standing just outside the doors.

“Malfoy?”

Draco Malfoy spun around, meeting Harry’s gaze with a look he couldn’t decipher.

“Potter.” He nodded.

“What are you doing here?” Why was his heart beating so fast?

“I’m meeting Mcgonagall for a tour.” Malfoy wasn’t quite meeting his eyes. He looked good, his hair falling softly over his forehead, no longer slicked back. He was dressed in an all black suit, one hand tucked into his trouser pocket. He looked handsome and confident… except for his other hand, which was tensing and untensing over and over again.

“I’ll catch you later, Harry. Malfoy.” Neville waved goodbye, nodding at the Slytherin.

“Why are you really here?” Harry asked, though he was sure he already knew the answer.

“Well,” Malfoy’s voice caught and he cleared his throat. “I suppose I wanted to apologise, for the, um, letter.” He looked down, finally conceding his nervousness.

Harry nodded towards the doors. “The kids will be out soon, follow me.”

“Look, Potter. We don’t have to make this bigger than it needs to be. Let’s just agree to forget about it.”

Harry stopped, turning back to face him. “Why would I do that?” Malfoy finally looked at him. Harry lowered his voice, taking a step closer. “I don’t hate you, Draco.” He licked his lips, terrified of what he was about to say. “It was nice to know you’ve been thinking about me, too.”

Draco’s eyes lit up, before drawing together again. “I’m not in the mood for jokes, Potter.”

“I’m not joking.” Harry took another step forward, until they were only a few feet away from each other. He summoned his Gryffindor courage. “I’ve been thinking about your arse too.”

Malfoy’s jaw dropped, and he shoved Harry in the chest. “That’s not funny.”

Harry laughed, catching his hands. “It kind of is.”

“Oh shove off, you great big git.” Draco gave a small smile, trying to pull his hands away.

“Make me.” Harry whispered, holding on tighter. If you had told him two hours ago that he would be flirting with Malfoy outside the Great Hall, he would have told you to go and get your head checked for wrackspurts. He felt almost giddy with excitement and disbelief, and most of all, anxiety. He was just riding on the wave of adrenaline at this point.

Draco snorted. “Good idea, Potter. The hallway is about to flood with students.” The Slytherin didn’t look away though, his silver eyes holding Harry's with a hopeful look.

Harry finally let go of his hands, but neither man stepped away. “Take me to dinner then.”

“You’re asking me to ask you to dinner?” Draco shook his head in disbelief

“Yeah, why not?”

“Very romantic.” He drawled.

“Hey! I’m the one who had to decipher your horrific handwriting.” And read your half-lusty, half-sad ramblings on four hours sleep, he thought.

“Oh, Merlin.” Draco winced. “Fine. Do you want to come to dinner with me?”

“You could be a bit more enthusiastic.” Harry mock-pouted.

“I’ll bloody take the offer back if you’re not careful.”

“Alright, okay.” Harry looked over Draco’s shoulder to see students starting to pour out of the Great Hall. He grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze. “Owl me the details.”

And with that, Potter dashed off down the hallway, leaving Draco’s fingers tingling and his stomach fluttering with butterflies. They were both doomed, surely, so why were they both so excited about it?

#drarry #draco malfoy #harry potter #draco x harry #harry x draco #pansy parkinson #neville longbottom #fic #fanfic #drarry fic #drarry fanfic

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whenihaveyouromione · 3 years

Text

When I Have You - Chapter 37

Find on Fanfiction.net and ao3.

For my other stories (which I am gradually publishing) follow @firethecanonsfanfiction

----

Chapter 37

There was a sense of giddiness in Ron as he stared at the tiny box in the palm of his hand. He had it. He finally had the ring. And it was just as stunning as the first and only other time he’d laid eyes on it. It was the perfect choice for Hermione, and he had the special engraving on it that he really hoped would mean something to her.

A phrase he’d lived by every day since he'd been with Hermione — one that had helped him get over all of his doubts, all his insecurities, and wondering if he was enough for her.

He was enough for her. She would tell him if he wasn’t.

And now that he had the ring he could finally ask her to marry him. He had it all sorted. The lake, the fireworks (George had teased him relentlessly when Ron had asked, but that was okay, because it just meant even more of George’s sense of humour was returning), the evening picnic with the wine, and the stars (he hoped) and the ring. He wasn’t even going to tell Hermione about it until the day of. Two Saturdays from now. That way she would think it was just a spur of the moment decision to go there — something that wasn’t unusual for them. Occasionally, if they had nothing better to do on a Saturday night they’d clutch hands and Disapparate to that lake just to look at the stars, or to talk, or to just enjoy one another’s company.

He hoped to catch her completely by surprise.

But for the time being he had to keep it safe in a place where she wouldn’t find it.

He took one last longing look and then closed the box with a light snap. On the bed was another, larger box. A plain old shoe box that wouldn’t catch Hermione’s eye even if she was to see it. But still, he had protective enchantments around it just in case.

With a smile on his lips, he placed the tiny red box into the shoe box and closed the lid. He then tapped it with his wand, and when he opened it again, it gave an illusion of a stack of Chocolate Frog cards. Hermione knew he had collected them as a kid. It was the most obvious thing to disguise it with if she ever discovered it. All she would see was a box of old Chocolate Frog cards, and that wouldn’t interest her in the slightest.

Two weeks seemed so far off, but it was the right thing to do. Harry would be at Ginny’s Holyhead accommodation right now, preparing his dinner and his surprise. Two weeks seemed a respectable enough amount of time to wait before he intruded on their happiness. It would give everyone a chance to be excited and then forget about it.

It was just so hard to wait. Now that he had it all planned, he wanted to do it right away. He wanted to Disapparate her to the lake tonight and take her in his arms and just declare his love for her and his desire to spend the rest of his life with her.

He hadn’t even realised he was staring stupidly at the shoe box until the sound of footsteps at the bedroom door brought him out of his reverie.

He spun, turning to find Hermione still in her work robes. Her hair was a little askew, which meant she’d had a busy and rather stressful day. Not unusual, even if by Ron’s standards it might have been a rather relaxed one.

She just didn’t know how to relax when it came to work.

He held out an arm, grinning at her, and she came over, falling into his embrace. “Rough day?” he asked.

“Just busy.” She stifled a yawn, and her eyes drifted to the shoe box on the bed. “You bought yourself some new shoes?” And before he could stop her, she leaned forward and opened the lid.

Ron winced, momentarily worried that the spell had worn off, or he’d performed it wrong. But as the lid opened, all that he could see (and therefore all that Hermione could see) was Chocolate Frog Cards.

She smiled. “You’ve been sneaking them in without my knowledge, have you?”

“No,” Ron said, a little defensive despite himself. “Mum found them and gave them to me. They’re from when I used to collect them. She didn’t want them.”

“So that means we have to keep them?” Hermione asked.

“It’s not like they’re taking up space,” Ron said, taking his arm away from her. He opened the wardrobe and kneeled down on the floor, shoving the box right in the back. “You won’t even know it’s there.”

Hermione smiled. “Fair enough. I won’t ask. How was Harry today?”

“A mess,” Ron said, standing back up. ��Panicking, sweating, fidgety. For the first time ever, I outperformed him in today’s tasks. Merlin help us on the day of his actual wedding if this is how he acts when he’s not even engaged.”

“Give him a break, Ron,” Hermione said. “Anyone would be nervous in this situation. I would be.”

Ron opened his mouth to respond, but then closed it. He watched her for a moment, resisting the urge to go and get the box out of the wardrobe and tell her exactly what was in it. “I’d be excited,” he said after a moment.

Hermione wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head against his chest. “That, too. But also nervous. It’s a big thing. Oh, I can’t wait until they announce it to everyone else. Your mum will be so thrilled.”

“Yeah,” Ron said, putting his own arms around her. “She will be.”

“You want to get dinner tonight?”

“Hm?”

“I’m far too tired from work and far too nervous for Harry to think about cooking. And you seem distracted. We can just get something. Eat it here.”

“That sounds good,” Ron said. “And afterwards, I’d really like to just cuddle you.”

Her face still pressed against his chest, Ron felt the vibrations of laughter.

“Why must you always laugh?” he said. "But when you ask, it's all adorable."

“I’m sorry,” Hermione said, lifting her head to look at him. “I wasn’t laughing at you. I was just laughing at how sweet you are." She moved her arms around his neck. "Dinner and cuddling sounds wonderful. My favourite part of the day."

Ron pulled her back against him, tightening his hold on her. "Mine too," he mumbled into her hair, knowing full well that she would be able to hear his thumping heart that was threatening to jump out.

Two weeks couldn't come fast enough.

…

Ron didn’t sleep much that night. He just couldn’t get his plan out of his mind. Every time he started to drift off, another thought popped into his mind — something he’d forgotten, something he could maybe go without. Something that the more he thought about seemed utterly ridiculous, that she’d be more likely to laugh at him than agree to marry him.

He rolled one way, which was facing away from Hermione, then he thought maybe if he looked at her, the right idea would pop into his head. But then he had to roll back over again because his mind would start going into overdrive.

He stumbled into the kitchen at around seven, which — in his opinion — was far too early for a weekend morning. But Hermione was already up, and she had brewed a pot of coffee.

“Morning,” she said as Ron sat down, yawning. “You couldn’t sleep either?”

“What do you mean ‘either’?” Ron asked. “You hardly moved all night.”

“I just couldn’t get to sleep,” Hermione said, sitting opposite him with an excited grin. She slid a mug of coffee across to him, which he accepted gratefully. “I couldn’t help thinking about what was happening with Harry and Ginny. I mean, they’re probably engaged by now, and I just want to know how it went. I hope Harry didn’t mess it up.”

“Have some faith in the bloke, would you,” Ron said, smirking. “I’m sure he did just fine.”

“He was so nervous about it all.”

“He’ll be fine.” Ron took a sip of the coffee, almost gagging on it. He hadn’t expected it to be so strong.

Hermione winced. “I thought a double hit might be good this morning. Sorry, I forgot to tell you.”

Ron pushed the coffee to the side, smiling at her. “Breakfast?” he asked.

“What’s on the menu?”

“What do you want? I’ll make it.” Ron stood up and started to rummage through the fridge. It was still a weird contraption to him, but he was getting used to it. He was starting to think his dad was right about Muggles. They had an answer for everything wizards used magic for.

“We have eggs?” he said with his head inside the fridge. “Er… some, sausages?” He looked over his shoulder. “Bread? We really need to do some shopping. Mum’s cooking and your parents’ groceries are running out.”

“Well, why don’t we head into the city today and get some stuff?” Hermione asked. “We haven’t really ventured into Nottingham city yet. Maybe even lunch together?”

Ron set the eggs and sausages onto the bench. “I’d love that,” he said. “This is our last Saturday together for a few weeks. How many weeks do you have to work Saturday?”

“Until the law is — hopefully — passed.”

Ron grinned. “You’re working wonders in that department, you know? People are talking about it all throughout the Ministry. Dad said the whole department has never been more organised.” He cracked the eggs into a bowl and whisked them together.

“Every department wants you,” he added.

“That’s not true,” Hermione said.

“It is,” Ron said. “I’m going to lose my girlfriend to her work entirely. They’ll be asking you to be Head of the whole Magical Creatures department soon. The only times I’ll see you is when you come home, and you’ll be gone so early the next morning I probably won’t even be awake when you leave.”

Hermione didn’t speak. Ron set about separating the sausages, and he pointed his wand at the stove to turn it on.

“That doesn’t seem to bother you,” she said, her tone thoughtful.

Ron shrugged, looking at what he was doing with the food.

“A while ago, you were almost ready to break up with me over it. But now, you sound —”

“I’ve grown up a little bit since then,” Ron said. “Done some thinking. Besides, before, it was you not knowing how to relax and prioritising that over all your relationships. Now, you manage to separate it all, and we still get quality time together. And this is because you’re doing such a great job, and they love you there and they have every right to love you. You’re amazing at what you do. How can I be mad at that?”

He hadn’t seen her approach him, but as he dropped the sausages into the frying pan, she spun him around and kissed him with a lot of force.

“Careful,” Ron said, stepping away from the lit stove top. He pulled her back towards him, returning her kiss once away from the danger of an open flame.

“Maybe we should do lunch and see a movie?” Hermione suggested.

“I don’t mind,” Ron said, shrugging. He kissed her again.

There was a knock at the door, and then the sound of the front door being opened and closed.

“Hello?” It was Ginny. “We knocked this time. Are you decent?”

Hermione looked up at Ron and they both smiled at each other.

“In the kitchen!” Hermione called.

“Still didn’t answer my question.” Ginny’s and Harry’s footsteps echoed down the hall, the pair appearing in the kitchen a moment later.

Hermione dropped her arms from around Ron’s neck and turned to face their friends. “It’s just after seven in the morning. What brings the two of you here so early?”

Subtlety, Ron realised, was not Hermione’s strong point. Come to think of it, it probably wasn’t his either.

Their future children were doomed.

“Yes,” he said, turning back to check on the sausages. “Last time I checked, you needed an invitation to come over to someone’s house. Especially at this hour.”

“Oh, lighten up, would you?” Ginny said cheerfully. “There’s a reason we’re here so early.”

“I wonder what it could be,” Ron muttered, suddenly feeling irritated and he didn’t know why. It probably had something to do with the lack of sleep and what he had come to recognise as envy that everyone else’s plans were working out and his weren’t.

He felt a kick to his leg from Hermione.

“What’s up with him?” Ginny asked.

“He didn’t sleep well last night,” Hermione explained. “We were… thinking about you guys.”

Ron placed the eggs into the pan beside the sausages and finally turned around to look at his beaming sister and best mate, who both looked as equally happy as the other.

“I take it everything went well?” Hermione asked, sounding excited.

Ron glanced up and caught Harry’s eye, who gave a small nod.

“Oh, that’s so exciting!” Hermione cried, and she hurried forward to hug both Ginny and Harry. “I’m so happy for both of you!”

“Thanks!” Ginny said. “I had a feeling you two would have known already. Harry said he told Ron about it, and of course he would have told you, Hermione.”

Charming the spoon to continue scrambling the eggs, Ron turned back to look at his sister, and smiled. “Congratulations, Gin,” he said. “I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you,” Ginny said, beaming at him.

“Did Harry get you an engagement ring?” Hermione then asked. “I know it’s not as common in the wizarding world, but I think they’re so beautiful and really special.”

“Yep,” Ginny said, and she held out her left hand to show Hermione the ring. Ron peered over Hermione’s shoulder and was pleased to know that Harry hadn’t gone as extravagant as he had. That was something, at least.

“It’s stunning,” Hermione said. “Ohh, I’m just so excited for you. For both of you. My two best friends, getting married.”

“Want breakfast?” Ron asked, suddenly getting the feeling that his plans with Hermione were not going to happen today. Everyone — including Hermione, it seemed — was much too preoccupied to worry about lunch and a movie now.

“If you two don’t mind?” Harry said.

“Not at all!” Hermione exclaimed. She Summoned two chairs from the dining room into the kitchen and then got out four plates. “Ron’s cooking. He’s a good cook. Come and sit and tell me all about it.”

While Ron finished the breakfast, throwing in extra eggs and sausages to cater for their two unexpected guests, he listened to Ginny and Harry detail the events of the night before.

It turned out Harry had really pulled through on his attempt at romance, and as Ron (and Hermione) had thought, the quiet affair had appealed to Ginny greatly. She had said yes in a heartbeat, and then they had enjoyed a nice dinner together, glad to see each other over a Quidditch weekend.

It had been a nice surprise for Ginny to have him there.

“Which got me thinking,” Harry said as Ron brought the food to the table. “Well, us. The whole distance thing is really tricky, and we miss each other a lot when Ginny’s away, which is like seven months of the whole year. You know I’ve never seen Grimmauld Place as a permanent spot, so with getting married and all, I think now is the perfect time to sell it.”

“Sell Grimmauld Place?” Hermione asked, shocked. “But, Harry… that’s all you have left of… Sirius.”

“I know,” Harry said. “But he hated the place, too. It’s not like it meant anything to him. And I should be able to get enough from it for us to get our own place… in Holyhead.”

“You want to move there permanently?” Hermione asked.

Harry shrugged. “Why not? Ginny’s locked to the place during the Quidditch season, and I have no such restrictions, so it’s easier for me to do it.”

“That’s so far away from everything, though,” Hermione said.

“Well, not for anyone who wants to come and visit us, is it?” Harry said.

Hermione smiled. “I guess Grimmauld Place kind of grew on me after a few years. The two of you added a warmth to it since you’ve been living there.”

“Hey,” Ron said, reaching a hand out to touch Hermione, “not your decision, is it?”

Hermione blushed. “Right. Yes. Sorry.”

Harry laughed. “I’ll think about selling it then, alright? But for as long as Ginny is playing with the Harpies, I’ll be moving there.”

“Should we toast?” Ron asked.

“With coffee?” Ginny said.

“Do you want some Butterbeer?” Ron replied. “I can get the Butterbeer.”

“Coffee is fine,” Hermione said, and she refilled everyone’s cups. “This is to all of us moving on with our lives, finding our way, and… for being happy.”

Ron beamed at her as she cast a glance his way.

“Here’s to being very happy,” he said.

And soon, he added privately, we’ll be just as happy as Harry and Ginny are now.

#ron and hermione #ronandhermione #ronandhermionefanfiction #ron and hermione fanfiction #romione #romione fanfiction #ron x hermione #ronxhermione #hermione x ron #hermionexron #hermioneandron #hermioneandronfanfiction #ronweasley #ron weasley #hermionegranger #hermione granger #hermione #slice of life #romance

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blackpinkpaladin · 4 years

Text

headcanons abt merthur sleeping cuz i cannot and it is not fair.

merlin is a morning person. he’s had to be. days started with the dawn back in ealdor. he’s never known how anyone can sleep past morning until camelot

merlin still wakes up early cuz he has to wake arthur and stuff but god all the late night magic, breaking people out of the dungeons, visits to the great lizard, and general sneaking around took its toll

he learns to grab his z’s any time he gets a chance.

the 20 mins or so it takes the cook to prepare food, merlin naps. arthur is with uther for half an hour. sneaky nap. he has a lil corner set up to nap in the stables after he magics it in clean. he sleeps a solid two hours or so under a tree after putting arthur’s armour on.

on a few occasion he naps on arthur’s bed when the prince is out hunting or on some function he couldnt take merlin with.

merlin likes to sleep on his back but he’ll fall asleep anywhere, anytime, in any position tbh.

he’s one of those people who wakes up refreshed and rested after naps

arthur is very jealous abt it but he’s never begrudged merlin his sleep.

okay, thats not true. in the first few months he did give merlin a hard time abt sleeping on the job

played a few pranks like draw on his face or scare him awake and put food on his hands.

but as arthur started falling for respecting merlin, he kinda started to shield merlin’s little naps.

it mostly cuz merlin talks in his sleep. arthur finds his nonsense half conversations very very cute. he is also pleased that he is featured in most of merlin’s dreams

arthur found merlin asleep in his bed only once. it did very funny things to his heart. he gaped for 15 mins, blushing furiously, clutching his chest and then left the room because he just couldnt.

merlin was up and about by the time he came back. arthur couldnt look at him straight for a week.

he’s been hoping to catch merlin in his bed again ever since.

after arthur realizes merlin has magic, confesses his feelings, becomes king, makes merlin the sorcerer of the royal court and legalizes magic (yes, in that order) he and merlin start sharing a bed.

arthur, before merlin, sleeps on his side facing the edge of the bed. his hand is always close to the sword resting by the side of the bed or the dagger under his pillow.

all the older knights, the ones who’s actually seen battle or go on patrols sleep this way.

arthur, like all knights, is also a light sleeper. the slightest noise wake him and he springs up, alert at once.

the prince is usually up before merlin calls his name or opens the curtains but he feigns sleep because a) he’s stubborn and really wants to go back to sleep. b) he is hoping merlin will run his hand through arthur’s hair like he sometimes does

merlin always knows that arthur is pretending because he notices the little twitches, and the way arthur unfurls, moves onto his back. the way his sleep-slack, young and peaceful expression shifts into something more regal despite the closed eyes.

arthur starts going to bed shirtless a year after merlin starts working for him. cuz he likes the way merlin looks at his chest.

merlin knows arthur sleeping shirtless is all bravado too. the prince gets cold really easily. he is rather confused why he just refuses to wear a sleep shirt. but hey nobody’s complaining! merlin takes care to shut the windows well and set out a few extra blankets on cooler nights

arthur very much clings to merlin once they start sleeping together (in both sense of the expression lol). the king of camelot is an incurable cuddler. merlin likes it very much. although he’d appreciate if the king wouldnt make such a fuss when he has to get up in the mornings

arthur does not objectively sleep better with merlin in bed. merlin’s mumbling wakes him quite a few times every night. but he gives no fucks. he sleeps sounder and feels much safer.

oh arthur is still not a morning person. he is always a bit snappy in mornings. merlin finds it equal amounts irritating and endearing.

#merthur #bbc merlin #mine

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boykisserbuckley · 4 years

Text

your mess is mine

This is a commission piece I wrote for the lovely @taylortut, who asked for sick Merlin being stubborn and Arthur taking care of him. I did my best to deliver ;)

(you can also read it on AO3)

Merlin was, once again, being sent out to do Gaius’ job. This time it was a wave of illness in a town not far from Camelot, but Gaius was needed in the castle, so he was sending the next best thing. Merlin didn’t really mind having to help out when Gaius needed something done, but he wasn’t technically the castle healer, even if he lived with him. And, of course, there was the added bonus of Arthur being a pain in the ass any time Merlin had to do anything that didn’t involve him.

“I’m not letting you go alone,” Arthur insisted, for about the fourth time since Merlin had brought this up with him.

“Yes, you are,” Merlin said, “It’s nothing I haven’t dealt with before, and there’s no point in you catching it and bringing it back to the castle with you.”

“What if it’s Morgana?” Arthur asked.

“Why would it be Morgana?”

“Why wouldn’t it be Morgana?”

“Because she has no reason to target a random village we’ve never been to?”

“Well, if it is Morgana,” Arthur said, “It’s not like you can protect yourself if something were to go wrong--”

“Thank you for your incredible confidence in my abilities,” Merlin cut in.

“--and I wouldn’t want to have to go through the trouble of finding a new manservant on short notice,” Arthur continued, ignoring Merlin’s interruption. As usual.

“Right, of course not,” Merlin said, lifting a single eyebrow, “Wouldn’t want to inconvenience you by dying, or anything.”

“Exactly!” Arthur responded triumphantly. “So I’m coming.” Merlin frowned, but let it slide. He couldn’t actually force Arthur to stay if he was dead set on following, as much as he might want to.

“Fine,” he muttered, “but don’t get in the way.”

Within the hour, they were on their way. From what little information Gaius had gathered, they knew that this illness wasn’t deadly, so long as the patient could get treatment. The problem was simply that this town was small enough that it didn’t have a proper physician who could handle what they were dealing with, so they’d sent word to Camelot to beg for help, and in turn Gaius had sent Merlin. He’d do what he could when they got there, maybe stay a few days to make sure the patients took a turn for the better, and then they’d go home. Easy.

Merlin knew it was something he could have handled by himself, but he was secretly pleased with the knightly entourage Arthur had insisted on bringing along. Sure, he didn’t necessarily believe this incident was Morgana related, but it was nice to have his friends with him anyway. They could be infuriating, but making this journey alone would be far less entertaining. They bantered back and forth around him as they rode, helping the time to pass far more quickly than it would have if he was on his own.

It was early evening by the time they reached the village, but not quite dark yet, which meant Merlin still had some time to get started. He got himself set up in the inn, but was gathering his supplies and heading out before the others had even finished climbing the stairs.

“Are you the physician from Camelot?” the woman that greeted him at the door of the infirmary asked.

“That’s me,” Merlin responded easily. She gestured him in and he stepped past her, looking around for a place to set down his supplies.

“We’ve been putting the patients up in the room just through there,” she said, nodding her head towards a doorway in the far wall. Merlin could hear muffled coughing from inside. She stepped up and opened the door for him, leading him through to the makeshift sickbay. The room was filled with beds, separated as much as they could be in the small but crowded space. The people laid up in them looked miserable; most were asleep, though fitfully, but the ones who were awake were shaky and coughing harshly. Merlin winced in sympathy at an especially rough sounding cough to his left.

“I’ll just get started here, if that’s alright with you,” he said to the woman. She smiled at him kindly.

“The sooner the better,” she said. “I have a bit of business to tend to, but I’ll just be in the front room if you need any assistance.”

“I’ll have more than enough assistance in about a minute, probably,” Merlin said. Just as he said it, the door creaked open again and Gwaine poked his head in. He turned back almost immediately.

“Found him!” Gwaine called behind him, and then the door opened wider as the rest of the knights piled into the room, followed closely by Arthur.

“See?” Merlin flashed a grin at the woman, who looked surprised at seeing so many people suddenly in her infirmary.

“Well, you won’t be needing me then,” she noted. “But don’t get too loud in here, many of the patients are sleeping, and they need the rest. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Merlin agreed readily. She smiled again and ducked out of the room.

“You could have told us where you were going,” Arthur grumbled as soon as the woman had left. Merlin shrugged.

“I assumed you could figure it out,” he said, “I mean, I came here to help with a plague. This is where the sick people are. It’s not too hard to put the clues together.”

Gwaine snorted from behind them. Arthur just rolled his eyes.

“Just tell us what you need us to do,” he said instead of quipping back, for perhaps the first time since they’d known each other. Maybe for once, he recognized that there were people who needed help more than they needed their bickering. At that realization, Merlin sobered up a bit too, nodding towards the patient just beside him. They seemed to have just woken up.

“Come help me see what we’re dealing with,” he said, turning to the patient. Arthur followed suit.

Over the next while, Merlin checked temperatures and handed out supplies. He directed Arthur and the knights to wherever he thought they were needed, and they let him take charge with minimal ribbing. They settled into an easy rhythm. By the time night had well and truly fallen, they’d made good progress. Even so, when Merlin looked up and took in the room, he knew there was so much more to do, and the sooner he could get it done the sooner these people would be back on their feet.

The knights filtered out slowly, heading back to the inn to get some well deserved rest. Gwaine clapped him on the back as he passed, muttering some joke about not staying out too late. Arthur stayed longer than the rest, hovering around Merlin and whatever patient he was working on, under the half-hearted pretense that he didn’t want to leave Merlin to walk back by himself. After another hour, though, even Arthur couldn’t hide his yawning.

“You’re no help here if you pass out on top of a patient,” Merlin griped at him. “Go back to the inn. I’ll finish up and head back in a bit.”

“Merlin--” Arthur started, but Merlin cut him off.

“Morgana isn’t here, she would have done something by now if she was. I don’t need an armed guard to walk to the inn, it’s barely across the street. Go. You’re useless if you fall asleep here, and I’m not about to carry you back if you do.”

“Well, that’s no way to talk to a prince,” Arthur muttered, looking mildly chastised, but there was no heat behind it.

“No, but it is the way you tell a friend to take care of himself.”

“Oh, coming from you?” Merlin chuckled at that, despite himself.

“Get out of here,” he said, “I’ve got more patients to tend to.”

Arthur narrowed his eyes and gave him a once-over, glancing between him and the door, as if debating whether it was worth it to do what he said. Merlin gave him a pointed look when he stifled another yawn. Arthur shot back a glare, mouth twisted in apparent displeasure at the thought of leaving Merlin to fend for himself, but eventually his exhaustion won out. He headed for the door, and Merlin relaxed a little. One stubborn patient put to rest, only a countless number more to go. He eyed the darkening room critically, lit a few candles, and got back to work.

The next few days passed in similar fashion. Merlin spent the day in the infirmary, stayed later than he probably should, and collapsed into bed for an hour or two of sleep before the cycle started again. The morning of their last appointed day in the village found Merlin stretched out in his bed, blinking awake to the sun and a steadily mounting headache. What he wanted to do, almost desperately, was roll over and go back to sleep. But he could hear someone moving in the room next to his, and he knew he had to get up and put himself together enough to get back to work. He groaned softly to himself at the thought, but pushed his blankets away and sat up anyway.

Even as he took a moment to rub at his forehead in an attempt to massage the pain away, Merlin knew he couldn’t spend too much time dawdling. There were still patients stuck in the infirmary who needed his help, and he didn’t want to leave them waiting if he could help it.

A quick knock on the door startled him out of his thoughts, bringing everything back into focus. He still hadn’t gotten out of the bed. He wasn’t entirely sure how long he’d been sitting there.

“Get up, Merlin, it’s morning,” Arthur called through the door. Merlin started to respond, but Arthur’s footsteps were already retreating, towards the inn’s tavern if he could hazard a guess. The knights were probably already there. Merlin forced himself up, trying to ignore the fatigue that slowed his movements.

By the time he’d gotten himself dressed, he felt better, if only slightly. The throbbing at his temples had faded to a more manageable ache, and he felt more awake now that he was up and moving. That was good, because he knew he had more work to do, and he didn’t want Arthur to catch on and worry him to death before he could finish. Besides, he was just tired. He’d finish up early tonight and get some sleep, and he’d be good as new for their ride back to Camelot. No big deal, and no need for his friends to worry about it.

He shuffled down to the tavern stifling a yawn. Percival looked up from shoveling what looked like egg and potatoes into his mouth when Merlin sat down.

“You alright, Merlin?” he asked, giving Merlin a once-over.

“Just tired,” Merlin deflected. He caught Arthur giving him a suspicious look out of the corner of his eye. He ignored it. He was fine, and he didn’t need Arthur trying to fix something that didn’t need fixing. The others seemed more than satisfied with his answer, digging back into their food eagerly. Merlin picked at his own food for a few moments, but decided in the end he’d rather get down to the infirmary and away from scrutiny as fast as possible.

“I’m heading back to the infirmary,” he said as he got up, offering no other explanation. He all but fled the room, wanting to get away from Arthur’s irritating scrutiny. The same woman from before nodded to him as he entered the infirmary, heading straight for the back room. The sluggishness he’d felt as he woke up was easily ignored now that he could give himself a task, and he got right back to work without a second thought. The knights arrived not too long after, and he pointedly ignored their glances as he directed them to where they should be working.

It wasn’t until hours later, when he thought about taking a break--just sitting down for a moment--that Merlin realized maybe this wasn’t just the lack of sleep getting to him. He paused briefly after finishing up with the man he’d been working on and glanced longingly at the chair beside the bed, wondering if he could just rest for a minute. He was so tired. His head was still pounding, and now that he was concentrating on himself, he could feel the itch that threatened a cough in the back of his throat.

“Merlin?” Arthur’s voice startled him, and he realized belatedly that he’d been staring at the chair for longer than strictly necessary. He shook himself out of it and forced himself to look up, catching Arthur’s eye.

“You sure you’re alright?” Arthur asked, quietly enough that the other knights wouldn’t hear it. The naked concern in his voice was surprising, for once not covered up by teasing insults or bravado. It threw Merlin off enough that he almost wanted to admit that he wasn’t; he thought that honestly, if he sat down right now, he might not get back up for a while.

He’d been pushing himself too hard. He was well aware of that, having stayed up helping patients well into the early hours of the morning nearly every night, barely stopping to rest. He wasn’t even entirely sure he’d eaten anything last night. He definitely hadn’t been taking the proper precautions to protect himself from the illness he’d been trying to treat.

Which actually made things make a lot more sense, Merlin realized when the cough threatened again. He must’ve caught it as he was working. Maybe that meant he should take it easy, like he would recommend to anyone else in this situation; but then again, he wasn’t anyone else. People still needed his help, and it’s not like he could transmit it to the patients anyway, because they already had it. So he could just keep working through it, right? It wasn’t that bad yet. With that in mind, he plastered on his best innocent expression and flashed a smile at Arthur.

“I’m fine,” he assured him, clearing his throat quietly to cover up a cough. As long as he kept his distance from Arthur and the other knights while they worked, they’d be fine too. He could still finish what he started, and he could rest later.

So Merlin ignored the fatigue dragging at him, pushing himself to stay focused and keep moving. He ignored the way his stomach rolled sickeningly when Gwaine suggested they break for a meal. He barely took notice of Arthur watching him, too intently concentrated on acting normal.

“Merlin!” Arthur called from across the room, forcing Merlin to look up. His eyes narrowed like he was analyzing him, and Merlin opened his mouth to respond, only to be caught off guard by the coughing fit he’d been forcing back all afternoon. He doubled over, feeling like he was hacking up a lung, and realized belatedly that maybe this was worse than he thought. He fought to get himself back under control, and by the time the coughing subsided, the knights had gathered around him with Arthur right up front.

“I knew you weren’t fine,” Arthur said. Merlin straightened and tried to shake his head in disagreement. He regretted it when his vision swam out of focus briefly.

“No, no,” he muttered, voice more hoarse than he thought he should sound, “I‘m okay, I swear.”

“No, you’re not,” Arthur insisted, “you’re burning up, and you’re an idiot for ignoring it.”

“That’s rude,” Merlin protested mildly. Arthur was right, though, as much as he hated to admit it. He’d been so focused on staying focused that he hadn’t even noticed how his vision had gone hazy, how his hands shook.

“Come sit down, you look like you’re about to fall over,” Arthur said, keeping a hand on Merlin’s arm when he swayed slightly. Merlin pulled back, though it was half-hearted.

“Arthur, I still have to--”

“No, Merlin, let the knights handle it.” Arthur guided him to a chair, and reached for the pitcher of water on the table next to it, pouring some into a cup he’d produced from somewhere. Merlin was finding it harder to keep up with what was going on around him.

“We’ve been watching you work for days now,” he continued, pressing the cup into Merlin’s trembling hands and coaching him to take a sip. “They know what they’re doing. They’ll finish up, and I’ll take you back to the inn and make sure you get some actual sleep.”

“Arthur,” Merlin practically whined, but there was no real force behind it anymore.

“No arguing,” Arthur said, as if reading his thoughts. “You clearly can’t take care of yourself, so I’m going to have to do it for you. I’m still the prince, so I will make that an order if I have to.”

Merlin sagged in the chair and resorted to just nodding. It was like everything he’d been pushing back had hit him all at once as soon as he sat down, and he found himself not wanting to argue the idea of resting. Arthur grinned at Merlin’s agreement and clapped him on the shoulder, nudging his hand to get him to take another drink of the water. He turned away to say something to Percival quietly, and then he was back, helping Merlin to his feet and back to the inn. By the time they made it to the room, Merlin was so exhausted he all but collapsed onto the bed.

“Thanks, Arthur,” he murmured, already half asleep.

“You’re too much trouble,” Arthur grumbled, but when Merlin cracked an eye open, he caught the smile on Arthur’s face. He huffed out a breath, settled further into the mattress, and let his eyes close again. He trusted the knights, his friends, to take care of whatever else needed to be done before they headed back to Camelot, and he trusted Arthur to take care of him until then too. With that thought in mind, he finally allowed himself to drift off into sleep.

Commissions ~ AO3 ~ Ko-Fi

#bbc merlin #fic commission #merlin #Arthur Pendragon #gwaine #percival #sickfic #merthur if u squint #idk what else to tag but this was fun!#taylortut #merlin fic #b!writes

74 notes · View notes

mooncat457writing · 4 years

Text

Playing Nurse

This is for @hufflefluff-writer‘s 300 follower writing challenge. Congrats Amelia!

Thanks, as always, to @hellcattriesagain for being my fearless alpha reader. I don’t envy your job one bit, but I love you for your endless support.

Prompt: "I love your scars, they tell your story and that story is beautiful"

Rating: G

Pairing: Sirius Black x Remus Lupin

Summary: Sirius and Remus finally figure out their feelings for each other when Sirius takes care of Remus after a particularly bad full moon.

Tags/Warnings: Friendship, Fluff, Getting Together, Kissing, Cuddling, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Blood, Scars, Coming Out

Word count: 4.1k+

Also up on AO3.

“Moony?”

Remus’ body felt as if it was on fire as he was shaken awake by someone who could have only been Sirius. He was the only one who dared to try to touch him directly after a transformation. James and Peter always gave him space to wake up and get dressed on his own, but Sirius hardly ever did. Sirius was usually there, ready with a blanket to wrap around Remus’ naked shoulders and words of reassurance that the rest of them were ok. That morning was no different. Remus let his eyes flutter open, and, in the dim, early morning light streaming through the boarded-up windows of the Shrieking Shack, he was able to see Sirius’ concerned face staring down at him.

“Pads?” Remus croaked. He glanced over his shoulder and realized that Sirius had already draped a blanket over him.

“Shhh, I’m here, Moony,” Sirius cooed, brushing an errant curl out of Remus’ eyes. “Do you think you can sit up?”

He tried to push himself up off of the floor, where he was currently lying on his stomach, but pain radiated through his left shoulder and his abdomen as he moved.

“Careful, I think you dislocated your shoulder,” Sirius said, reaching out an arm to help guide him into a seated position.

“That would explain the radiating pain,” Remus said dryly as he sat up. The blanket fell from his shoulders down into his lap, covering the important bits at least.

“Merlin, Re! Your stomach! Prongs, where’s my wand?” Sirius said, turning around to search the floor wildly.

“Here!” Peter chirped quickly, handing Sirius his wand.

Remus pressed a hand to his belly and looked down to see his fingers come away red. “And, that would explain the light-headedness.”

“It was a rough night, Moony,” James said quietly. “You— the wolf was really restless from the start. We didn’t think it would be wise to go out for a run, so we tried to keep him here, but then he only got worse.”

“You’ll be alright, Re,” Sirius whispered, his voice wavering slightly. “Can you just lie back?”

Remus ignored the instruction and glanced frantically between his three friends, searching for injuries. “You guys are alright, though? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No, the wolf didn’t hurt us,” James said. “We’re ok.”

“But you won’t be if you don’t let me at least try to bandage that wound. Now move your hand and lie back,” Sirius pleaded.

“It probably looks worse than it is,” Remus protested weakly, but he lied back anyway.

“Ferula.” Bandages shot out of Sirius’ wand and wound their way around the wound on his abdomen. “Do you have any other wounds? I would try to set your shoulder, but I’m afraid I’ll make it worse,” Sirius admitted.

“No, I think that’s the worst one. Madame Pomfrey should be able to handle the rest,” Remus assured him and sent him a small smile. “Thanks, Sirius.”

Sirius smiled tentatively back and shoved his wand into his back pocket before reaching to brush a few curls away from Remus’ face. He was a lot gentler than usual, but Remus would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it.

“Speaking of Madame Pomfrey,” James started, bringing Remus back to the moment, “we need to get going if we’re going to sneak back into the castle and get changed in time for class.”

“James is right,” Sirius said before dropping his voice to a whisper. “Are you able to sit up and get dressed on your own, or do you need help?”

“I’ve got it,” Remus said quickly. He slowly pulled himself up into a seated position, ignoring the pain still radiating through his shoulder and abdomen. “Can you pass me my pants, though?”

Wordlessly, Sirius handed Remus his folded stack of clothes before backing away to stand with James and Peter so Remus could get dressed on his own. It hurt like hell to maneuver, but Remus wasn’t much in the mood to be touched right now, so he gutted through it. He gutted through walking down the tunnel back to Hogwarts, too, but once he was outside and past the Whomping Willow, he couldn’t bear the pain anymore. He collapsed onto his knees in the grass and let out a strained whimper.

“Moons,” Sirius exclaimed, dropping to his knees next to him.

“I’ll be fine, I just need a minute,” Remus panted, clutching his abdomen with his uninjured arm.

“Let us help you,” James said calmly, crouching down on his other side.

Remus looked between the two of them then nodded reluctantly. The two boys helped him to his feet and braced him from either side with an arm wrapped around his waist to escort him the rest of the way to the Hospital Wing. Once they reached the door, Remus stopped and shot them a look. “I should probably go in on my own.”

“Are you sure? Re, you can barely walk, let us at least help you inside,” Sirius suggested.

“Madame Pomfrey can’t know that you were with me,” Remus reasoned.

James let go of Remus and stepped next to Peter. “Moony’s right.”

“But—” Sirius started. He looked between Remus and James, tightening his arm around Remus’ waist.

“I’ll be ok. You should go to class.”

“He’ll be ok, Padfoot.” James placed a hand on Sirius’ shoulder to pull him away from Remus, but Sirius wouldn’t budge.

“You can come to visit during lunch,” Remus said. “Go to class. I need you to take good notes for me, alright?”

Deflating slightly, Sirius nodded and stepped back so Remus could enter the Hospital Wing on his own.

—

The next time Remus woke up, it was nighttime instead of early morning, and he was in the comfort of a bed in the hospital wing instead of on a dirty hardwood floor. With his eyes still closed, he did a mental scan of his body for injuries. There was a dull ache in his left shoulder, and, now that his entire body didn’t feel like it was on fire, he realized that he had, in fact, dislocated it as Sirius had said. He could also feel thick bandages wrapped around his torso, presumably covering the massive scratch he’d given himself. Besides that, there were no other significant injuries that he could feel, but there was one more thing he noticed: a warm hand gently cupping his.

Remus’ eyes fluttered open slowly to take in the sight of Sirius, leaning back in a chair, his feet propped up on the nightstand, one hand holding a book in front of his face while the other gently clutches Remus’ on top of the white hospital linens. Remus stared at their intertwined hands, watching Sirius’ thumb brush idly against his knuckles as he read, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Remus was now awake. It was such a simple gesture, yet so intimate. It made Remus’ stomach flutter. He sat for another few moments, merely letting himself enjoy the soft feel of Sirius’ hand in his before deciding to let his friend know that he was awake.

“Am I still dreaming, or is Sirius Black actually reading a book for once?” Remus croaked, his voice still thick from spending almost an entire day asleep.

Sirius glanced up from his book, startled. “Moons, you’re awake!” He tried to quickly let go of Remus’ hand, but Remus gripped tighter, not ready to let go just yet. Sirius smiled and let his feet hit the ground to scoot the chair closer to his bedside. “How are you feeling?”

“Like a thousand galleons,” Remus deadpanned.

“I was really worried about you,” Sirius admitted. “I tried to come to sit with you during lunch, but Madame Pomfrey wouldn’t let me in. I could barely focus in class all day today.”

“So, I guess I’ll have to get today’s notes from James, even though I can never read his handwriting.” Sirius gave him a narrowed look, so he continued, “I’m feeling better, really. I’ll be in this sling for a few days, but I’ll recover. I heal fast thanks to the wolf.”

“I’m glad you’re ok.”

Remus smiled, which Sirius nervously returned. It was a little jarring to see Sirius nervous when he was usually the picture of confidence. Oddly enough, it put Remus more at ease. Because if Sirius was nervous around him, then maybe, just maybe… Remus took a chance. He shifted his hand to lace his fingers between Sirius’ and gave his hand a squeeze as he pulled it into his lap.

Sirius’ smile widened. “Do you think you’ll be recovered enough by this weekend?”

Remus lifted an eyebrow at him. “That depends on what you have planned.”

Sirius laughed loudly— that laugh that was so similar to a dog’s bark that it wasn’t at all surprising when they’d found out his animagus form was a dog early last year. Madame Pomfrey shot him a glare from her desk across the room, which quieted him quickly. “Well, James has Quidditch practice, and Peter has that study date with Heather Hufflepuff—”

“Her last name isn’t ‘Hufflepuff,’ Sirius,” Remus interjected.

Sirius let out a frustrated huff. “That’s not the point, Re. I’m trying to ask you— Argh. Will you come to Hogsmeade with me?”

Remus tried his hardest to prevent what was sure to be a stupid grin from forming on his face. “Are you asking me on a date?”

“That depends on whether or not you feel the same way as I do,” Sirius replied.

Unable to hide his happiness any longer, Remus smiled at him and nodded.

“So that’s a yes?” Sirius asked hopefully.

“Well, I’ve been waiting for you to ask me out for years now, so I’m not going to let a dislocated shoulder get in the way of that now.”

“Years, huh?”

Remus felt his face flush, and he reflexively went to cover his face with his free arm, which also happened to be the one in a sling. “Ow! Bloody hell.”

“Are you ok? Do you need me to get Madame Pomfrey?” Sirius asked.

“No, I’m alright,” Remus said quickly. “Just—Stay?”

Sirius smiled and nodded before leaning to rest his head in Remus’ lap, like he often did when they were lounging around in the common room, except this time felt different. Sirius pressed a kiss Remus’s knuckles, and they fell into a comfortable silence.

“It’s been years for me, too,” Sirius admitted softly, just as Remus started to drift back off to sleep.

—————

“Morning, Moony!” Sirius chirped, pushing off of the wall he was leaning against outside of the Hospital Wing.

“Sirius!” Remus exclaimed, jumping slightly. “Aren’t you supposed to be in class?”

“It’s Thursday. I have a double free block in the morning, remember?”

“Oh, right. I kind of forgot what day it was, if I’m being honest,” Remus said wearily.

Sirius stared at him for a moment and softened. Usually, by the second day after a transformation, Remus started to get his energy back, but clearly, Tuesday’s moon had been really tough on him, injuries aside. “You aren’t trying to go to class, are you?” he asked, gesturing at the uniform robes Remus was wearing.

“No, but these were the clean clothes I had stashed in the Hospital Wing. Madame Pomfrey said I could leave, but only if I went straight up to the dorm and got back into bed.”

“Good. Then let’s get you to bed.”

“‘Let’s’?” Remus repeated back at him. “Don’t you have your usual Thursday morning pranks to pull with James?”

“James has got Peter for that,” he replied with a shrug. “Besides, I wanted to make sure you were alright. Just let me escort you home safely.”

“How chivalrous of you.”

“Well, I did learn something in all of those etiquette lessons that dear Walburga forced me to go to,” Sirius said with a wink.

Remus smirked. “Alright, let’s go. I’m nearly dead on my feet.”

They started to walk down the hall side by side in comfortable silence, Sirius occasionally brushing his shoulder against Remus’ non-injured one. By the time they got to the third floor, he had realized that Remus wasn’t kidding when he said he was dead on his feet. He glanced over and noticed Remus struggling to carry his feet up each step. Wordlessly, Sirius took Remus’ free arm and placed it around his own waist, then snaked an arm around the middle of his back, careful to avoid touching the boy’s injured arm.

Remus stopped and looked up at him. “I capable of walking on my own, Sirius.”

“I know you are. What if I simply wanted to take advantage of having an empty corridor to canoodle with my best friend?” Sirius waggled his eyebrows, which had Remus rolling his eyes.

“That’s a load of dragon’s dung,” he said with a huff, yet Sirius felt Remus’ arm tighten around his waist as he leaned more into his torso anyway. “But I appreciate the lie.”

Sirius felt the urge to lean down and press a kiss to the top of Remus’ sandy brown, curly hair, but decided not to press his luck, so he continued walking, supporting more and more of Remus’ weight by the time they got to the seventh floor. “Wrackspurt,” he said, clearly, and the portrait of the Fat Lady swung open. He helped Remus climb through the portrait hole and across the common room. “Think you can manage the stairs on your own? I don’t think we’ll fit side by side like we used to back in the day.”

“Yea, I think I’ve got it.” Remus stepped back, his hand sliding across Sirius’ back before dropping to his side. “Thank you.”

“No problem. I’m right behind you.” He reached forward and gave Remus’ hand a squeeze, then gestured for him to head up the stairs first.

Two sets of stairs later, they stepped into the empty dorm room they share with James and Peter, and Remus instantly headed for his four-poster bed. “I don’t know why this moon was so bad,” he mused as he tried to shrug out of his robes.

“Well, you’ve been stressing out about NEWTs even though they’re over a year away, so maybe it’s just the pent up stress. You should really relax more,” Sirius gently suggested as he watched Remus struggle with his clothes. After a moment, Sirius closed the distance between where he was standing by the door and Remus’ bed and sat next to him. “Here, let me help you.”

“I can do it!” Remus snapped.

Sirius quickly yanked his hands back and settled them in his lap. “Sorry, I only—”

“No, I’m sorry,” Remus said with a sigh. “It’s just— If you haven’t noticed, I don’t normally get changed in front of people… For a reason.” He stared at the floor, fiddling with a loose thread on his robes.

“Your scars?” Sirius ventured carefully. When Remus didn’t look up, he continued. “Moony, I’ve seen you naked nearly a dozen times post-transformation. I’ve seen your scars before.”

Remus bit his lip and looked up again. “But that’s different. That’s in the dim light of the Shrieking Shack, not in broad daylight in the middle of our dorm.”

“It doesn’t matter to me,” Sirius insisted, reaching over to take one of his hands and smiling when Remus laced their fingers together like it was second nature. “I’m still going to think you’re the fittest guy in our year no matter what. Now let me help you change into your pajamas and get into bed like Madame Pomfrey told you.”

Remus smirked and shook his head. “Alright, fine. I’m too knackered to argue with you.”

“Good.” Sirius quickly brought their entwined hands up to his mouth to place a soft kiss on the back of Remus’ hands then motioned for Remus to turn so he could start helping him out of his robes.

Outer robes discarded, Sirius gently undid the sling to help Remus remove his oxford shirt and tie. It took a little maneuvering to avoid jostling his shoulder, but eventually, they managed it, and Remus sat in front of Sirius, his torso bare save for the bandage wrapped around his stomach. Remus hadn’t been wrong; seeing him in the dim dusk light of the Shrieking Shack was different than seeing him in the full daylight of their dorm room. In this light, he could fully see the faint white lines that littered Remus’ torso. Some were faint, and some were more raised and jagged. He could remember the nights when some of them happened almost vividly, like the one on his right shoulder blade: the on he got the first transformation he’d spent with Prongs, Padfoot, and Wormtail. Sirius wanted to reach out and touch it and trace his finger reverently over it, but he wasn’t sure if that would be alright.

“You’re disgusted by them, aren’t you?” Remus asked, his voice sounding smaller and more vulnerable than Sirius had ever heard it before.

“What?” Sirius asked, realizing that he’d been silent for way too long. “No, Re—” he placed a hand on Remus’ shoulder to turn him to face him. “I love your scars. They tell your story, and that story is beautiful.”

Remus stared at him for a moment before starting to laugh.

“What?” he asked indignantly.

“That was a really corny line, Pads.”

“That wasn’t a line! I really d—” Sirius’ protest died in his throat as Remus’ pulled Sirius close by his uniform tie and pressed their lips together in a quick, chaste kiss. “I— You— We—” He opened and shut his mouth a few times as he tried to process what exactly had just happened; meanwhile, Remus simply smiled at him, a blush slowly creeping onto his cheeks. “What was that for? Not that I’m complaining, mind you,” Sirius said finally, still just the tiniest bit dazed.

“To get you to stop saying such sappy things. It’s unnerving,” Remus said.

Sirius smiled widely. “Well, if saying sappy things gets you to kiss me, then I might have to come up with more to say,” he teased.

Remus laughed loudly, then winced and removed the hand from Sirius’ tie so he could clutch the wound in his stomach.

“Sorry,” Sirius said sheepishly. He tentatively moved the hand on Remus’ shoulder up to gently cradle his neck. “I’ll stop trying to make you laugh if it’s going to hurt you.”

Remus smiled fondly and leaned in to press their lips back together, this time for longer. “I’m not sure that’s possible. You always make me laugh, even when you aren’t trying. It’s one of the things I love about you.”

Sirius pulled away and blinked at him. Did he just say what he thought he did?

“I—That’s not— I didn’t exactly mean it like that—” Remus stammered.

He quickly brought his lips back to Remus’ for a soft kiss. “I love you, too, you know?” He rested his forehead against his before continuing. “I’m honestly not sure if it’s an ‘in love’ kind of love or just the same kind of love that I’ve always had for you, but I do know that it’s different from the love I have for James or even Peter. It has been for a long time. It wasn’t until I realized out that I was into blokes that I figured out why.” He kissed him again. “Point is, I love you, and I’m very much looking forward to figuring out what that means in the grand scheme of things.”

“Me, too,” Remus muttered.

Sirius smiled and gave Remus one more quick kiss— because now that he knows what it’s like to actually kiss the boy, his boy, instead of having inconvenient daydreams about it, he couldn’t get enough. “Come on. Let’s get you into bed. Pajama top or one of those adorable jumpers of yours?”

“Jumper. That green one with—”

“The little stripe along the bottom,” Sirius finished for him. “I know the one. It’s my favorite. Brings out your eyes.” He smiled and brushed his lips against his forehead, then stood up. “I’ll dig it out if you want to get into your pajama pants. I figure we should probably wait until at least after our first date before—”

“Padfoot, do not even think of finishing that sentence,” Remus admonished.

He sent him a cheeky grin then turned his attention to the trunk at the foot of Remus’ bed, digging through it to find the requested jumper. When he found it, he straightened up and found Remus sitting back down on his bed, his uniform pants swapped out for a pair of Gryffindor red plaid pajama pants. “You realize that you’re going to look like Christmas with this combo?” he teased.

“I thought Christmas was your favorite holiday?”

“It is.”

It was a lot easier getting Remus into the jumper than getting him out of his uniform, so, within a minute, Sirius was tucking him into bed. He sat on the edge and laced his fingers with Remus. “You should get some more rest,” he suggested gently, even though he knew he would probably want to do precisely the opposite.

“I spent all day yesterday sleeping,” Remus protested.

“Yet, you still look utterly exhausted.”

“Gee, you really know how to make a bloke feel great about himself.”

“Exhausted, yet gorgeous,” Sirius amended.

“Oh, well, now you’re just overcompensating,” Remus teased sleepily.

“Am not.” Sirius leaned in and gave him a kiss. “Idea: I have another hour before Transfiguration, what if I stayed here,” he murmured against Remus’ lips. “I could use some Moony cuddles.”

“Mmmm. That does sound tempting.” Remus tilted his chin up to bring their lips back together. “Alright, climb in,” he said, lifting the covers and patting the bed next to him.

Sirius smiled, kicked his shoes off, and removed his uniform robe and tie before crawling into the bed. He extended his arm out and gestured for Remus to rest his head on his chest.

Remus complied, snuggling into the crook of Sirius’ arm with a contented sigh. “But you have to actually go to class. And actually take notes because I can’t—”

“Read James’ handwriting. I know, love.” He pressed a kiss to the top of Remus’ head then buried his face in his curls. Barely ten minutes passed before he noticed the shift in Remus’ breathing that let him know he’d fallen asleep, not that he minded. It wasn’t the first time that Remus had fallen asleep on Sirius’ chest, although it was the first time since they’d finally become— well, whatever they were— and Sirius definitely hoped it wouldn’t be the last time. If he could have it his way, he’d spend every night exactly like this.

Not long after Remus, Sirius started to drift off as well, at least until he heard the dorm door open. His eyes flew open, and he quickly raised a finger to let James know to be quiet then pointed at the still sleeping Remus.

“How is he doing?” James whispered as he sat on the bed next to Remus’.

“Exhausted,” Sirius whispered back, gently brushing the curls away from the sleeping boy’s face.

“Did you finally tell him?” James asked, and Sirius raised an eyebrow in question. “Sirius, I see how you look at him.”

Sirius’ eyes widened in fear.

“I don’t have a problem with it,” James said quickly. “I— I know I didn’t exactly react very well when you first told me that you liked blokes, but—” he scrubbed a hand through his hair and let out a long breath. “I want you to be happy, and if Remus makes you happy, then I’m happy.”

Sirius relaxed slightly and looked at Remus, who was still fast asleep, before looking back to James. “Thanks, Prongs. But— can we keep this between us? I’m not sure if I’m ready for Peter to know about any of this yet.”

“Of course.” James stood up and looked down at his two best friends. “I’ll let Minnie know that you’re busy playing nurse and won’t make it to class. She’ll probably cut you some slack.”

“It’s Minnie, do you honestly think that’s likely?”

“If it was just you, not really, but we all know Moony is her favorite. I’ll see you for lunch.” James shut the door behind him, leaving the room in complete silence again.

Sirius looked back at Remus and smiled before starting to lean in to brush a kiss against his forehead.

“So, James knows, then?” Remus whispered, not bothering to open his eyes.

Sirius pulled back, startled. “How much of that did you hear?”

“Enough,” he murmured, nuzzling closer. “I guess I’ll be getting the notes from Lily, then.”

“Of course, that’s what you focus on,” Sirius said with a chuckle. He leaned down again to actually brush a kiss on his forehead this time, but Remus tilted his face up and caught his lips in a soft kiss.

“I’m glad James knows.”

“Me, too, love. Me, too.”

#ameliaswritingchallenge #wolfstar #sirius x remus #sirius black x remus lupin #harry potter #marauders era #harry potter fanfiction #fanfiction #writing #my writing

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yeetingmyfeeling · 4 years

Text

The Solitary Bluebird

Chapter Two

Draco woke up early as he usually does, which is six. He jumped in the shower. After his shower he pulled on his uniform, adjusting the tight binder underneath. He parted his hair, jelling it in place. Then proceeded to do the rest of the morning routine.

As he was packing up his bookbag, he heard his friends slowly start to stir awake. They knew he would leave before them anyway. Blaise knew he leaves earlier on these days.

Draco walked out of his dorm room and down into the common room. He noticed a few mints left in the bowl on the table so grabbed one. He plopped it into his mouth as he made his way out of the Slytherin common room.

Walking the halls, only several handfuls of students could be seen, and much fewer teachers. He walked to the infirmary, enjoying the silence. When there was a window or ledge, he glanced out it for as long as he could. It was still summer, so very hot. The leaves on the trees were a nice green, only to change soon as autumn came in.

He quietly pushed the large doors of the infirmary open and let himself in, going to Madam Pomfrey’s office. He gently knocked on the door and waited.

The nurse opened the door and looked at Draco with a smile. “Good morning Mr Malfoy, I hope your break was well?”

Draco just nodded. “My break was fine. How was yours?”

“Always good to get away from the kids,” Pomfrey grinned. She opened the door, letting Draco into her office. “You wait here while I go grab the equipment and set it up,” Then she walked off.

Draco looked around her office. It was quite large. A desk covered with papers next to the door. On the opposite side of the room, was a bookshelf taking up the whole wall, packed full of books.

There was a hospital bed in here, as well as two chairs on a wall and a trolley with shelves.

WARNING!! MENTION OF NEEDLES!!

Pomfrey walked back in, a little case in her hands. She gestured to one of the plastic chairs against the wall. Draco sat down. She put the case on the top shelf of the trolley then grabbed her own chair, wheeling it over so she sat in front of her patient.

“I hope the needles were fine over the break?” Pomfrey asked.

Draco nodded. “Perfect. None broke, and I didn’t feel sick after any of them. There was one when I did get quite angry, but other than that no malfunctions or issues.”

“How long after the injection did the incident happen?” Pomfrey asked as she started setting up the needle.

“The next day,” Draco told. “But, I have always had a terrible temple.”

“Pants,” Was Pomfrey’s response. “What happened once your anger died out?”

Draco stood up, feeling awkwardly close to the nurse. He shuffled his school pants down to his knees, leaving his silk green boxers, and sat back down. “I felt off for the rest of the day, but the next day I was back to normal.”

Pomfrey nodded and cleaned off Draco’s thigh then located his vein. “Well, that’s not unusual then. That’s good. How are you coping with everything else?”

“Down the list of side effects?” Draco watched Pomfrey’s movements. He trusted her, but he never liked people having sharp objects or medical equipment around his body.

“Down the list,” Pomfrey confirmed. “First..” She lined the needle up and slowly injected it.

Draco took a shaky breath. He clenched his fist for a moment but relaxed. The Testosterone was injected into his body. Pomfrey pulled the needle out and quickly pressed a piece of cloth on the hole.

“Hold,” She said and Draco did. She stood up and safely discarded the needle.

NO MORE NEEDLE

“No breast swelling,” Draco started. “A bit of anxiety, just because of school. I think it was heightened slightly. I got a bit of a headache when I had that anger fit, but it went away reasonably quick. I have had a bit of a moustache, which I was excited about, but mother made me shave,” Draco suddenly went quiet and mumbled the last bit. “My sex drive has also been quite high.”

“Sorry, what was the last part dear?” Pomfrey asked politely.

Draco sighed. “My sex drive has been quite high..”

“Yes, that is a bit of a troublesome effect,” Pomfrey concluded. “You have been safe, haven’t you?”

Draco’s face went bright red. “I- Wha- No I-I.. I mean of course I'm being safe.. Bu-But I haven’t..”

Pomfrey laughed. “Alright dear, you are free to go. Remember to drink a lot of water.”

“Thank you Madam Pomfrey,” Draco stood up quickly, pulling his pants back up and fastening them. He gave her one last wave then left her office. He, now less embarrassed, happily walked out of her office only to have the Golden Trio walk past at that very moment.

“Malfoy,” Potter sneared. “What are you doing here?”

“Gosh I didn’t know my health was that much of a concern to you, I’m flattered,” Draco held his hand over his heart. “I must have forgotten it is your job to be here.”

“What do you mean?” Potter asked in a frustrated confusion.

“You are just always hurt and in the infirmary,” Draco explained. “I assumed it was your job.”

Weasley snorted. “He’s got you there, Harry.”

“It was a bit of a rude comment, though,” Granger added.

“Well he’s a git,” Potter finished. “And it’s not my job, or my fault. Maybe if your family and Volde-”

“Once a git, always a git,” Draco held up a hand, his temper rising. “I am not a tit though,” He began walking away, the Trio staring after him. “That means you are the tit, Potter,” He called over his shoulder.

He made his way to the Great Hall, glad he didn’t have any other interruptions. His friends were already there and he went and sat next to Blaise.

“It went well?” Blaise asked quietly.

Draco nodded. “I told her about my anger bust, but everything is fine.”

“Good,” Blaise said.

“So I made Weasley laugh,” Draco said louder, getting the attention of his other three friends. “Is my humour so bad someone as dimwitted as him could understand, or just fantastically good.”

“Or it was a sympathetic laugh,” Pansy added. Draco glared at her.

“What did you say?” Crabbe asked.

“That it must be Potter’s job to live in the infermany,” Draco made himself a cup of tea.

“That’s more of a fact,” Goyle said.

“So, Weasley was just laughing at his friend,” Blaise summed. “A mockery.”

“This means your humor is shit, Draco,” Pansy laughed.

“I am thoroughly offended,” Draco didn’t really care.

“Sure you are,”

The friends ate their breakfasts, enjoying each others company. They talked more about what they did over the break.

Pansy had a fling, she was very proud of that. Blaise biked for almost two hours everyday. Crabbe and Goyle nearly burnt down Crabbe’s kitchen, but made a mouth watering roast.

“And what did our Draco do?” Pansy asked, pecking a grape at him.

Draco thought for a moment. “I read all the Lord Of The Rings books, and watched all the movies.”

The other four laughed.

The bell rang and they headed to their classes.Science with the Gryffindors was number one.

Draco sat up the front with Blaise and Pansy. Crabbe and Goyle behind them. Merlin loved them today, so the golden trio sat across from Draco.

Blaise poked Draco’s thigh, earning a confused look. “Does it hurt?”

“I don’t know, does this hurt?” Draco asked sarcastically, poking Blaise back.

“I was being genuine, ass,” Blaise huffed.

“Well, it’s fine,” Draco smiled innocently.

Snape walked in, slamming the door open as usual. “Welcome to year five potions. I will be pushing you harder this year..”

“Like that’s any different from literally any other year,” PAnsy muttered to Blaise, who snickered.

“So, I hope you are ready,” Snape finished. “Tough luck if you aren’t. Open your textbooks, page twenty.”

Everyone stared at the teacher in confusion. Snape sighed. “I guess you’ll have to go get them from the cupboard?”

Everyone shot up, right, of course.

“Make sure to grab the fifth year books, clearly marked.”

~~~

Minor Smut

“Draco..” Blaise moaned. “Fuck, Draco, stop. We are going to be late to Art, and we have a new teacher.”

Draco just mumbled against Blaise’s neck, continueing to lick at it.

“Merlin your sex drive really is high,” Blaise sighed. “Dray, come on..”

“Blaise,” Draco sighed back. He kissed his way back up the boys neck.

“What would you do if Golden Boy found us?” Blaise asked with a smirk. Draco pulled back, making gagging noises.

The bell rang and Blaise rolled his eyes. “We are supposed to be on the other side of the school,” He sighed. “Come on.”

SMUT OVER

Draco straightened himself up and picked his bag up from where he threw it on the floor. “I’m not running,”

“You play football, why can you not wrong?”

“That is under a different circumstance, I am getting a reward if I run.”

“But making me late to class is fine?”

“Of course.”

The two walked at a faster pace all the way to their classroom. They ended up being ten minutes late. Draco camly opened the door, walking in and sitting at a table. Blaise sat next to him.

“You are late,” Professor Umbridge said in a high pitched annoying tone.

“What an excellent observation,” Draco mumbled. Blaise snickered.

“Well I guess you two will enjoy a ten minute detention,” Umbridge decided.

Draco scoffed. Blaise said ‘I told you so’, and snickering from Weasley and Potter was heard.

“Now, to continue from where I was rudely interrupted..” Umbridge glared at the two Slytherin boys. “You can’t have a subjective art piece,” Disagreements were heard. “Your ideas for what is ‘subjective’ is wrong, the audience will never pick it up. You cannot just paint half a plant and think the audience will get that it means you want to go to Bali. You need to have a piece that makes sense.”

Granger raised her hand. “Professor Umbridge, art is mostly subjective.”

Umbridge held up a hand. “Who is the teacher here? Now, I want you all the draw Mona Lisa from memory.”

“God, right now I’m regretting detaching your face from my neck,” Blaise said, clearly upset with the professor.

“Yet, you did,” Draco shrugged, pulling out his art book.

#draco malfoy #harry potter #blaise zabini #trans draco malfoy #harry potter universe #no magic #transgender #im too tired for tags

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nnt-nextgeneration · 5 years

Text

Storm

@okamideimos won the @creators-anonymous challenge and commissioned this fic for his OC Storm. You can find out more about Storm here. Hope you enjoy this :) - Galfridus

A splash of red cascaded from the knife, falling to ooze onto the surface below. Storm hummed a little as he moved the blade, swiping it from side to side, trying to recall the snatch of tune Merlin had sung to him the previous night. It was elusive, slipping like sand through his memory and his brows furrowed as crimson goo smeared over his fingers. It was a bit hard to see by the dim lantern light, but a peek out of the window showed a splash of vermilion creeping over the darkened landscape. Dawn was approaching, and soon the bustle of the day would begin, ending the boredom that came with being the only one awake. Adults were impossible! They slept way too much.

Storm put down the knife on the wooden counter top, grinning broadly as he picked up the bread he had, with some effort, managed to brown on the stove. He had done a good job with it. The toast was coated to the very edge of the crust with a thick, glutinous layer of berry jam, the jar of which he had found in the back of the cupboard. He took a large bite, smacking his lips as a delectable sweetness coated his tongue. It tasted amazing: he had used every single last speck of the jam and it had been totally worth it.

Jumping down from the stool he had used to reach the stove, Storm padded back into the bar, crumbs falling over the floor in a trail as he walked. Golden light was beginning to stream through the windows casting diamond patterned shapes onto the stones below. He hopped up to sit at one of the circular tables, resting his elbows on the wood as he chewed his toast, ears pricked to catch any voices or clomps of footsteps upstairs. But there was nothing; nothing but a soft snuffle coming from behind the counter, punctuated by whistles and snorts.

He licked his fingers, sucking at the traces of remaining jam before wiping his sticky hands on his trousers, a thin coat of fibres adhering to his skin. With a shrug, Storm climbed down from the stool to tiptoe across The Boar Hat, stepping carefully around the tables and over the uneven floor. He had met Hawk before of course on the many visits Merlin would make to catch up with her old comrades, bringing her ever-curious young son along with her, but this was the first time Storm had really appreciated what he was seeing. A talking pig - an oddity he had not come across outside of this place even in Merlin’s lab - and he was keen to get a closer look. Something had to explain the animal’s power of speech, and he was going to find out what it was.

The fat, pink body lying prone on the floor rose and fell as Hawk snored, bristles of the pig’s hair standing to attention in the cool draft of morning air. Storm crept towards him, head tilted as he looked the animal over, trying to spot any sign or symbol that might explain the creature’s strange abilities. The pig’s skin was unblemished, and Storm’s brows drew together, mouth twisting a little to the side. Merlin had told him of the various escapades the Sins had got up to in the Second Holy War, the foes they had faced and the battles they had fought, this pig travelling alongside them at all times. Meliodas had described in detail just the previous night how Hawk had been sizzled up by lightning and kicked halfway across a forest, as the other Sins laughed, the pig interrupting with indignant squeals. Yet here he was, not only snoring peacefully but completely unmarked. It did not make any sense at all.

It was clear a thorough examination was called for. Storm crouched down, running his hands over the pig’s fleshy flanks, pausing his movements sharply when Hawk raised his head and grunted. Seconds ticked by, Storm sipping the air with barely there breaths as he waited for the creature to relax, snores coming in faint whiffles before he continued his work. The animal’s skin was surprisingly hard and scratchy under his fingertips and the legs were snort with neat trotters, the feet dainty almost as they moved back and forth in Hawk’s sleep. But this was not concerning; Storm had seen dogs in Camelot behaving in the same way and, as he continued to inspect the pig, he could not find anything which he would not have expected.

Shuffling sideways, Storm crawled to the right along the pig’s body, intent on studying the animal’s head. Hawk’s breath was hot on his bare arms, sending a shiver up Storm’s spine. Again nothing out of the common as far as he could tell: a wrinkled nose, thick drool dripping down to pool on the stones, dark lashes twitching as Hawk muttered something Storm could not quite make out about the disposal of scraps. He huffed, lower lip protruding as he gently pulled up the pig’s mouth to better examine the sharp, yellowing teeth. An aroma of boiled cabbage and slightly sulphurous eggs wafted towards him and he swallowed hard, but managed to suppress the urge to gag. He was a fearless explorer, an adventurer: he did not get sick because of a bad smell.

He was on the point of standing, stomach tight with disappointment when, on a whim, he decided to carry out one last investigation. Placing a thumb lightly over Hawk’s eyelid, Storm dragged it up a fraction, gasping audibly as he looked into the pig’s bright eye. Instead of white and iris and pupil, he could see shapes shifting in a shimmering mass, pointed bodies, deformed looking birds, demented animals with pointed claws and teeth. He scrambled backwards, heart beating wildly in his chest, and crashed straight into the wooden shelves behind him. The glasses stacked neatly there wobbled then fell, crashing to shards on the flagons below. The bottles lined up above also toppled, several joining the glittering splinters of glass, colourful contents spreading out in puddles on the floor. Storm coughed, the alcohol tickling his nose as Hawk stirred beside him.

“Oi!” the pig cried, his snout raised into the air. “What a mess! You’re in trouble now.”

“But…” Storm felt the blood drain from his face as boot heels clacked on the wooden stairs, the clipped tread both familiar and frightening. He closed his eyes, flinching as he heard his name yelled across the bar.

“Storm! How dare you!” Merlin’s voice was hard and cold. “I told you yesterday you were on thin ice. What the hell is wrong with you? Why can’t you just behave?”

Eyes wide, Storm began his defence. “I didn’t mean it,” he whined. “I was just…”

“I don’t want to hear any of your excuses. You are impossible. I’m taking you straight home, and you will spend the whole day in your room. I am so cross with you!” Merlin’s arms were folded tightly over her chest, her face set like ice and Storm knew she meant it.

Rage boiled inside him. It was so unfair. She wouldn’t even let him explain. Power surged through him, his eyes darkening to pitch as the air shivered, sparks crackling at his fingertips. Hawk have a loud squeaking before scurrying beneath one of the tables, but Storm did not care. He needed to hurt, to destroy. He was about to unleash the full force of his wrath when a lazy voice called, “Hey, Merlin, it’s alright. The boy looks sorry enough~”

The anger fizzed out as quickly as it had come. Storm gulped, a shadow falling over his face as Ban peered at him over Merlin’s shoulder. The human was scary to behold with his pointed canines and impossible height, but the boy could feel his thoughts and knew the Fox Sin to be kind at heart. True to form the man ruffled Storm’s hair, face breaking into a leering grin. “He’s only five, right? Cut him some slack.”

Casting her son a cold look, Merlin muttered something under her breath and the gold, green and violet puddles on the floor separating before swooshing upwards. Clear bottles reformed around the colourful patches before soaring back to their place on the shelf, thin silver shards flying through the air to snap into place as the glasses also repaired themselves, no trace of the breaks visible to the naked eye as the vessels stacked themselves neatly away. “See, no harm done,” Ban said with a shrug, giving Storm a pat on the shoulder then sloping off to the kitchen.

His heart rate was just beginning to approach something more normal when a loud bellow pounded through the space. Merlin’s head shot upwards, the orb of power she always carried materialising in her hand as she turned to face the source of the disturbance. Storm’s mouth fell open as Ban thundered back into the bar, his face so fierce he was almost unrecognisable.

“Master!” he called. Hawk struggled out from beneath the table he’d squeezed under, shaking a little as Ban glowered down at him. “Did you eat this?” Ban demanded, shoving the empty jar practically into the pig’s face.

Hawk was squealing a protest when Storm stuttered, “Um… I ate it. I… It was just in the cupboard. I thought…” Ban’s stern gaze shot quickly in his direction and Storm’s eyes went wide, but to his relief the angry human just shrugged, shaking his head a bit as the fury in his eyes morphed into something softer.

“Nevermind~” Ban’s body slumped. “You weren’t to know.”

Storm opened his mouth to ask what was going on, when suddenly he was flooded with Ban’s thoughts and feelings. This human’s heart always was easy to read. He did not want to pry, but Storm could not stop the tide of information which washed through his brain, showing him exactly why Ban was so upset. The jam Storm had consumed less than an hour ago was special, a blend of berries from the fairy king’s forest, a treat for Elaine. Ban had come down so early to prepare breakfast for her, a way of celebrating their wedding anniversary. Tears pricked at the back of Storm’s eyes, his throat burning as Ban’s bitter disappointment became his own.

Quick as a flash Storm ran, pelting from The Boar Hat into the cold Britannian morning. He was still wearing his nightclothes and the grass scratched his bare feet as he dashed without thought over the ground, dew-soaked blades sticking to his skin. Merlin was right, he thought to himself as misery curdled in his stomach. He was impossible. He couldn’t even make breakfast without hurting people, without running things. Everyone would be better off without him.

How long he ran for he had no clue, but he stopped when he reached the lake, its glassy surface, shimmering like silver, spreading out before him for miles and miles. He had never seen so much water in one place, except for the sea with its tang of salt and fish and the call of squabbling gulls. This place was quiet, almost eerily so. There were no birds, no chirrups of insects, not even the ruffle of leaves in the wind. Storm took cautious sips of the frosty air, the sound of nothing ringing in his ears.

“What is this place?” he panted to himself, lungs tight and heart racing. The exhilaration of his sprint was beginning to wear off, and his legs shook and wobbled as he tried to catch his breath. Collapsing against a rock, Storm’s chest heaved so much he winced, the pain in his side and the raw rasp in his throat growing sharper with each gasped inhale. It took some time for his pulse to slow and the tears to spill in hot lines down his cheeks.

“It’s not fair!” he sobbed, his hands curling to fists which he balled hard into his eye sockets.

He didn’t notice the wasps until they were buzzing around him, so close it was if they were drilling in his ears. With a cry Storm sprang back, hissing a word Merlin would have thoroughly disapproved of as his shoulder blades whacked into the rock behind him. “Go away!” he yelled as the wasps closed in, aiming for his hands and face. The more he flapped his around, trying to wave them off, the more determined the insects grew. It was as if they were flying in formation. Panic gripped him, heart sinking like a stone as he realised the wasps were after the traces of jam on his skin.

Dark fire burst to life in his palms. Storm did not even try to stop the balls of Hellblaze, all Merlin’s lectures about controlling his power slipping away like sand. Without pausing to think, he hurled his magic hard at his attackers, barely even aiming as he charged towards them. The insects buzzed angrily, but flew away into the trees, Storm continuing to fling orb after orb of magic in their direction, powered by nothing but reaction and hurt until a sudden loud howl made him pull up short. The cry had come from the direction he was running, further into the copse.

He had hurt something. Again.

Storm ran forwards in the direction of the yelps, feet pounding into the uneven ground, failing his arms a few times as he stumbled over snaking roots that protruded through the soil. Patches of sunlight gleamed through the leaves, turning the world before him into a blur of greens, golds and browns as he rushed onward. “Where are you?” he called, as the yowls of pain stopped, twisting his head to look around to seek some sign of the animal. Shaking his head in frustration, he paced forwards, pushing branches and large ferns aside as he searched the woods.

He almost missed what he was looking for. The creature lay still, brown fur blending into the dead leaves that carpeted the floor, head resting forlornly on its paws. Little whining noises escaped from its nose, and Storm crept forwards, hands outstretched. “Don’t be frightened,” he said softly as he drew closer. “I don’t want to hurt you. I’m sorry.”

It was a dog, a young one to judge by the roundness of its eyes and fluffy coat, but it was larger than any puppy Storm had ever seen, more the size of a full grown wolf. He approached the animal carefully, tiptoeing towards it just as he had when he crept up on Hawk earlier that day. But this time his prey was awake, and it looked at him sorrowfully, whimpering pitifully as it held up its left front paw. Biting his lip, Storm looked at the wound, wincing; the poor thing’s fur had been burned completely away leaving a nasty patch of shiny red flesh exposed.

As tears threatened once more, Storm stuffed his hands into his pockets. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I… I didn’t think…” The dog raised its head, seeming to give a nod before it pressed its nose back to the ground and Storm felt his heart would break.

“I take it this is your doing?” The curt voice behind him made Storm close his eyes, tears squeezing out under his lashes. He should have known Merlin would use her magic to find him. “If I have told you once, I have told you a thousand times. You have to stop lashing out. Your powers are lethal, Storm, you could kill something. It is your responsibility to learn to control them.”

“I didn’t mean to!” Storm protested as he spun round angrily to face Merlin. “It was an accident!”

“It always is with you,” Merlin snapped. “This is not good enough. Your intent means nothing when you are so disruptive. You have to stop!”

“I know.” Storm’s eyes slid to the ground and he watched as a line of ants scurried across the forest floor, some carrying small seeds in their powerful jaws. He did know, he always did remember when he was calm, but the thoughts left him whenever he was angry or scared. Merlin sighed and he risked a glance upwards. “It’s hurt,” he said, tears falling in earnest. Merlin’s face softened and she kneeled down, Storm hurtling towards her. “I hurt its paw. Can you fix it, please?” he begged as he clung to his mother, who wrapped her arms around him in return.

The air shifted, ruffling his hair as it moved and Storm sniffled as Merlin gently pressed him back, turning him so that he could look at the animal. “Don’t worry, she’s fine,” Merlin said softly and Storm smiled through his tears as the dog carefully stood, before bouncing joyfully around the woods like a yapping ball. He took an involuntary step back as the creature pelted towards him, licking his face with a rough, wet tongue.

“I think she’s forgiven you,” Merlin observed, chuckling slightly as the dog went for another lick, Storm laughing as she placed her paws on his shoulders. The weight was unexpected and he fell to the floor, the dog tumbling down after him, continuing to cover his face in thick, wet saliva. Tentatively at first, then more surely, Storm patted the dog as it panted hot breath in his face, marvelling at the soft fur on her head and behind her large, floppy ears.

Storm sat up breathless as the dog moved off his chest to bound towards Merlin. His mother backed away a little, putting her hands out before her in a vain attempt to keep the animal at bay. “Can we keep it,” Storm asked breathlessly. “Can we, can we?”

“No, Storm.” Merlin folded her arms across her chest. “And this is a she. You can tell if you look at her stomach. Female dogs…”

“I really want to keep her,” pleaded Storm. “I’ll look after her, I promise. I’ll…”

“Storm… no,” Merlin replied. “Now come on, we have to get back to The Boar Hat.” She took his hand, squeezing it a little. “Ban is worried sick about you. You need not worry about his feelings, he knows now what happened with the jam is not your fault. I explained that I have not yet educated you about the flora and fauna of the fairy king’s forest. You could not have been aware that the berries used for that confection are special. I suggest we go and pick some more tomorrow, and I will teach you how to make that jam.”

Storm nodded gratefully, then paused, pulling on Merlin’s arm. “But I really want to keep her,” he said forlornly as he looked over his shoulder, laughing in surprise to find the dog standing next to him. “She wants to come too,” he said defiantly.

Merlin sighed deeply. “Very well,” she relented, casting a disapproving look at the animal. “This is against my better judgement, but she is fully grown, and I suppose she will help teach you the importance of being gentle. But you have to agree to take care of her, and see to her needs. If she causes problems, Arthur will not be happy. I will teach you all you need to know.”

“I promise,” Storm readily agreed. “Come on, Rose,” he called with a grin, laughing as the dog barked loudly enough to shake the leaves from the trees. “That’s her name,” he said proudly.

“I supposed as much.” Merlin smiled fondly down at her son, before resuming her quick pace back to the bar.

Storm placed his hand on Rose’s shoulders as they walked after her, the dog’s warm body rising and falling beneath his fingers. He stopped short as he felt the fur stretch under his palm, looking up sharply to see the dog elongate by about half a centimetre. It was a barely noticeable change, but he could definitely see it, and dog’s proud whiffles enough to confirm what he had witnessed.

“You’re not full grown at all,” whispered Storm, grinning as Rose panted her agreement. “You’re going to get bigger! Well, that’ll be our secret,” he said as he ran after Merlin, Rose bounding happily along at his side.

#nnt #oc-storm #merlin #ban #oc-rose #hawk #fanfiction #next generation #nnt creators anonymous #thanks for letting me write this dei!

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renee-writer · 5 years

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From Gladiator to Knight Chapter 32 A Quest

Merlin Jamie Claire Arthur

Merlin

I offer bread and cheese and several stomachs growl. I laugh a bit as I lead them in. I know we have a big day tomorrow. Goodbyes are always hard and they need to talk to Arthur early enough not to be overheard. I tell them this and we all turn in after eating.

Jamie

Merlin awakes us before sunrise. I understand the necessity of it. As does Paul. Our woman not so much. Claire mumbles and groans as I help her to her feet. I keep my arm wrapped around her as does Paul with Tianna. We all stumble behind Merlin as he seems to float ahead of us in the mist of the sunrise.

As we approach, we see Daggini waiting. He looks stressed and a, slightly more awake Claire looks at him and then looks to Merlin. He nods and heads over to him after telling us where to find Arthur. We head that way.

Authur

I see it in their eyes when they approach. They must be off. I suggest that we head someplace private to talk. I kick my servants out and settle in to find out when.

"So, you are off."

"Yes, we have come to say goodbye." Jamie answers.

"Do you know when?"

"Merlin said in the next few days. He must get us prepared. So.."

"I see. You will surely be missed. But you must move on. So, we shall have a party to say goodbye. I will tell the other knights you were called to a quest."

I gather the others around the round table.

"The Frasers have been called on a quest. They will be leaving us. So, tonight we celebrate all they have done. There will be a party. Bors, head into town and get mead." I assign jobs to the others and they all scatter.

Claire

Guinevere catches us as we head to our rooms. "Come with me. I wish to gift you with something in thanks for all you have done." She tells Tianna and I. She leads us to her dressing room.

"Please pick out dresses to wear tonight and to keep." I look to make sure she is serious. "Yes. For my husband nor Lancelot would be here if you hadn't saved them."

After a few moments deliberation, I choose a red gown with a low neckline and blue sleeves. It has a long train. Tianna chooses one that is lilac colored with a hooped neck that is sleeveless. It is flowly and floor length.

"Thank you." I tell her.

"No. Thank you. You will be missed here."

We decide to surprise our husbands and hide the dresses in Jamie and I's room. I then, needing some time to process all that was going on, decide to walk around the castle. I store memories of this place, this time, these people. I wonder until Tianba comes to find me so we can get ready.

I find Jamie, already dressed. I gently kick him out explaining that we have a surprise for Paul and him and would meet him in the great hall.

We strip down to our shifts and into the dresses. They seem designed for us, hugging our bodies in a most wonderful way. I know it will drive our men, crazy. Next, we do our hair. Tianna does mine first. She twist it up around the jeweled headband that came with the dress. I do the same for her and we are ready.

Jamie

I ken when they enter because all the conversation around me, stops. I turn and lose my ability to speak, to think. She is a vision. She is a regal as a queen and as sexy as I have ever seen her in the lowcut red dress. From Paul's reaction, he sees Tianna in the same way. But, I've only eyes for Claire.

"Ye are sae beautiful. Come here." I hug her close and go to kiss her. She won't let me. "What?"

"You always pull your hands through my hair when you kiss me," she explains," and Tianna had a hard time taming these wild locks." I smile. She has me there.

I am handed a glass of mead and Claire is offered one. She refuses. I look at her. "I will tell you later," she promises. The mead is strong stuff. It, combined with deep emotions at leaving, has me feeling reckless.

"Bring me two swords. I will teach ye the way to do a proper Scottish sword dance."

Claire

I groan when I hear his announcement. He is quite drunk. I fear injury. "Watch this," I tell Tianna," and be prepared to treat an injury or two." She nods and turns her attention to the two crossed swords laid out on the floor.

Jamie is good. He stumbles a few times but, I know that is just the alcohol. He moves fast, his feet dancing over a between the swords. Then Bors stands up.

"I can do that. Let me have a try." Jamie bows to him and steps aside. I am tenser as I watch his feet stumble. He hasn't Jamie's grace nor years of practice. I see it happen and unable to stop it. He falls forward and lands on the swords. Blood starts to ooze from the cut on his arm.

Tianna and I have it down to a science. She hands me clean bandages to start to stop the flow before running off to get my suture kit. It is a good thing he is so liquored up as the wound requires fifteen stitches to close. I hear his wife yelling at him as I wind the clean bandage around the closed wound.

"And I will repeat me'self in the morrow when yer head be pounding." She ends for good measure.

Jamie

I wake in the morning with a splitting head and a gleeful wife. "How much did I drink?" I ask her through my dry mouth. She hands me a glass of water and answers,

"Six maybe seven glasses." I groan and lower my head. "I know. But, we must be up to say goodbye." Goodbye. How to do that? To the man who gave me such honor? The thought makes me feel sicker then I already am.

We meet Arthur in the courtyard, alone. A tearful Claire and Tianna hug him. Paul bows low, and I, weel I hug him too.

"There will never be another like you four. Take care of each other, wherever you land. You will be so missed."

"We will. You will be also sire'."

"Arthur." He says with a sad smile as he watches us go.

#my writing #jamie and claire #outlander fanfic #cannon divergence #the knight one #from gladiator to knight #a quest #the fraser's say goodbye

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idratherstayslytherin · 5 years

Text

Feelings We Can't Let Go (A Drarry Fic) CHAPTER SEVEN

Summary: Harry needs to pass his NEWTs with a decent grade in Potions. The Ministry sends Harry to France so he can study for his exam with none other than Draco Malfoy, who has been blocked from Wizarding Society for almost a year now. It was supposed to be just a few months of tutoring, but it was so much more than that.

Read it on AO3 or here on tumblr:

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

Quick note: Posting re-edited chapter here and on ao3 again, because I want to improve my English and terrible writing. I added a bit of the text and re-written some parts that didn’t feel right or were ooc in my opinion, I also corrected grammar.

This chapter took way longer as it was mainly written by my at a time co-writer. I thought I loved the whole idea, but i noticed few things that just weren’t making sense or the scenes were too short, didn’t have enough explanation or character development. Now that I added quite a bit of text I like it a lot more :)

Do let me know what you think of it!

////////

Harry wasn’t proud of it, but the next morning he just slipped out of Draco’s flat before the other boy woke up. He didn’t know what was happening between them and how to deal with it, and he definitely didn’t want to go back to Grimmauld Place to face Ginny, so there was only one place to go: the flat Ron and Hermione were renting since they moved out from Sirius’ old place where all of them were living together since the war.

It was still early when he got there, but luckily Hermione was awake and making breakfast as he arrived, so he joined her and Ron who woke up later for the meal, without saying a word apart from muttering the odd ‘thank you’ when Hermione poured him some more coffee and Ron handed him the eggs. He tried his best not to look up, pretending to be focused on his food, but he couldn’t help but notice the worried glances between his friends. Hermione tried to make conversation a few times, but Ron was too busy eating to give a reply beyond a shrug or a nod, and Harry was hardly in the mood to talk.

“ If you could just tell us what’s wrong …” Hermione said softly. Harry sighed. He knew he would have to say something eventually, but he didn’t know what to say. He definitely didn’t want his friends to feel sorry for him. “Is it something to do with Ginny? I talked to her on the Floo this morning, and she didn’t seem too happy…”

“We had an argument last night.” Harry muttered. He really didn’t want to talk about this. Especially with not only Hermione, but Ginny’s very own brother.

“About what?” Ron asked through a mouthful of ham. Hermione gave him a frown.

“It’s nothing.” he lied. What could he say? Ron just shrugged, but Hermione was still looking at him with that look Harry knew way too good, and he knew he’d have to talk to her properly before he left.

“She said something about you not sleeping at home…” Hermione mentioned carefully. Harry shook his head and leant back in his chair. He didn’t like where this was headed.

“Blimy, Harry, you aren’t cheating on my sister, are you?”

“God, no!” Harry responded immediately, seeing Ron’s shocked face. Well he didn’t really cheat on Ginny, did he? Sleeping in someone else’s arms isn’t cheating. They didn’t even kiss. Why was he even thinking about kissing Draco? Well, to be fair, he's been thinking about it for a while now, he couldn't stop himself. “I just couldn’t stay there, so I went over to Draco’s place and spent the night there.” He admitted as he was sure now that Hermione talked to Ginny, she already knew about Harry still hanging out with the blonde.

“You slept at Malfoy’s place?” Ron looked horrified, and even Hermione looked appalled, even though she was hiding it pretty well.

“It isn’t as bad as it sounds.” Harry muttered, regretting mentioning it at all.

“I dunno, it sounds pretty bad to me.” Ron said, pretending to vomit. Hermione frowned at him again, but Harry knew she wasn’t too keen on the idea either.

“I know you don’t like him and I understand it, but he’s changed a lot and we’re friends. I told you that many times. I needed a place to stay, so I went over to his flat, that’s all. We only slept, that's all.” Harry was getting agitated.

“What do you mean you only slept? What else would you do? You aren’t even gay, Harry! And who would want to have sexwith Malfoy? Ew.” Ron pulled a disgusted face. Harry looked away, feeling blush creeping up his cheeks. He knew one person who at least thought about it few times. He couldn’t help but remember the flash of Draco’s pale chest, the way the other boy’s nightgown hung on his frame, the grip of his hands, the scent of his skin and hair… He had to stop thinking about it. He didn't want to admit to himself something he was too scared of. He just wasn't. The thought of being honest about all the feeling he has been feeling for the past two or so years, made him want to jump off the cliff.

Harry looked at his friend startled when Ron spoke again, only to find his friend staring at him with wide eyes. “You didn’t, did you?”

“Didn’t what?”

“Sleep with him. Like, you know…” Ron trailed off and made an eyebrow move that could only indicate one thing. Harry’s jaw dropped. Why was Ron contemplating whether he had or would want to have sex with Draco? Was Harry even more blinded by his own fear than Ron was oblivious to certain stuff?

“No, of course I didn’t!” But I thought about it. Harry's mind added. He was getting more stressed out about finally saying what has been hiding in his mind for a long time. He didn't want to come clean even to himself, especially to himself. He knew it would only make all of his problems grow bigger and he did not need that to happen. He pushed away all the thoughts that were indicating THIS ONE THING.

“Thank Merlin.” his best friend exhaled, digging into his breakfast again. Harry had only eaten half of his plateful, but he didn’t feel like eating any more. This whole situation was making him feel so uncomfortable. He was in love with Ginny and was getting married to her. They were planning to send out the invitations within a week. Seriously, what was wrong with him? He should be happy, he was getting what he had always wanted. Family. Love. He would have kids, and hopefully he would be a good father. He was getting everything he ever dreamed of, with who he had been with and who he had wanted for years now, he was getting married to the girl who had been an amazing friend to him for ages, someone who he could talk to and play quidditch with and enjoy himself with, someone who had a lovely family he was almost already a part of. Yet something wasn’t right. Well, a lot of things weren't. Everything was going fucking terrible. Harry just couldn't unpack the content of him mind right now, he would most certainly break down and wouldn't know what to do about the events that would approach after that.

He wanted everything to go as planned. He would go home, apologize to Ginny, send the invitations out, go to the robe fittings to the Burrow, check on the menu and the decoration and the guestlist and finally get married. Then he would spend the Christmas holidays with Ginny, just the two of them, cozy at home, enjoying their days as newly weds, they would have a New Year’s Eve reunion party with all their friends, and he’d finally start work in January after months of training. It would all be alright. It had to be. He will get over THIS THING with Draco, he will. He was way too scared of his feelings towards the boy. Ginny should be able to take Harry's mind of the blonde, Harry just needed to marry her and start sleeping with her again. That had to put him back in the right mind.

“Don’t mind Ron, he’s just being childish.” Hermione’s voice caused Harry to snap out of his thoughts.

“It’s okay” he said with a forced smile. Hermione sighed. Her relationship with Ron was great, but still very much like it was at Hogwarts, her correcting him and telling him off for things he said and did, almost acting like a second mother to him a lot of the time.

“No it’s not. I’m serious, Harry, I can see that something’s bothering you, and I wanted to talk to you properly without making a joke out of everything. What is it?”

“I’m alright, I swear, Hermione. Thank you for being concerned, but you don’t need to worry about me. Yes, we had an argument with Ginny, but I’ll go home after this and apologize to her and we’ll be fine. I’m fine.” He could tell he hadn’t fully convinced her, but she gave him a smile and changed the topic, and Harry was glad to think about something else. Ron left for work a bit later, but Harry stayed for another few hours, listening to everything Hermione had to say about work and books she was reading and plans she had, and how excited she was about going on a holiday with Ron, and telling Hermione about the wedding plans and how he was looking forward to starting his job next year.

He left before lunchtime, heading back to Grimmauld Place, picking up some of Ginny’s favourite takeaway on the way, along with a bunch of flowers. They were going to sort this out with Ginny. They had to. One can’t just cancel a wedding less than a month before it, can they? And he didn’t want to cancel it, right? Things were just seeming a little less charming than other days, but that didn’t mean he had to bail out on his fiancée.

As Harry got home, he noticed another pair of shoes in the hallway, a pair of bright yellow converses with flowers painted all over them which could only belong to one person, so that meant Ginny wasn’t alone. The door of their bedroom was ajar, and indeed, the two girls were sitting there, Luna braiding Ginny’s hair and listening to a funny story the redhead was telling her. Harry awkwardly stopped in his doorway. It was his home, but he felt strange interrupting them, and he didn’t quite know what to say to his soon to be wife.

“Go on if you'd like, but we aren’t alone anymore.” Luna said to Ginny without even turning around, and to be honest, Harry wasn’t even surprised. Somehow the blonde always seemed to know where he was, what he was doing and how he was feeling which he had kind of gotten used to, but it still made him a little uncomfortable sometimes. Ginny looked back at him over the top of her shoulder. Her face was unreadable, she didn’t look angry, but maybe she was just concealing it well, even though Harry knew that wasn’t his fiancée’s forte. “Nice flowers” Luna added with a smile as she passed Harry. He gave her a nervous smile, and entered the bedroom, sitting down on the couch facing Ginny.

“Look…” he started, stammering for the moment, then paused, pinching his nose. He should have gone through what he wanted to say. “You know I’m not good at this, Gin, and I’m sorry about it. But all I really want to say is that I’m sorry and I should have talked to you properly, I should have been here for you. I’m probably the worst boyfriend or fiancée ever, but I love you, and I really want this to work. We just need to both be a little more patient and discuss things and it’s going to be alright. I want it to be alright. This should be our month, I don’t want to spend it fighting about petty things. I want us to be happy.”

“Harry…” Ginny sighed. “I love you too and you know it and there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you. But please, just talk to me, alright? You can tell me what’s wrong, you need to get used to this. I know you went without having anyone to talk to about your feelings for most of your life, but I’m here for you. And I want it to work too.” She gave him a warm smile. Harry felt relieved, and layed the flowers on the couch, standing up and greeting Ginny with open arms, pulling her close to himself and burying his face in her red hair that was shining in the sunlight pouring in through the window. They were going to be okay. Everything was going to be okay.

*********

As it happened, nothing was okay. They had two other rows just that week, one again about Harry ‘hiding his feelings’ as Ginny put it, and another one about whether inviting Draco was a good idea. Ginny ended up tearing the invitation in half but Harry sent it anyway after he cast a reparo on it.

Then there were the fittings which should have been fun, after all Harry had been spending almost all of his holidays at the Weasley house for years now, but Molly kept asking him about what he would want to name his children with Ginny, and even though he was mostly happy about the wedding and becoming part of the Weasley family, the thought of having kids, especially lots of kids scared him, and the Weasley matriarch seemed quite keen on the thought. But at least she made them beautiful wedding robes, or at least Harry was pleased with what he got, and Hermione fell in love with Ginny’s dress, which made Molly promise to make her a similar one for her own wedding.

Of course this wasn’t all, they had to work on planning the decorations (thank Merlin Luna was happy to help with that), the music (Ginny wanted Harry to get the Weird Sisters to play live, saying that he should use his fame for something, but he hated doing that, it was bad enough to put up with everyone giving him special treatment every day, he didn’t want to take advantage of it, and he especially didn’t want any of it on his wedding day, so they ended up inviting some local band Dean knew which the redhead girl was grumpy about), the food (of course Molly already had the whole menu planned, but she kept changing things, and people kept popping up promising to bring some cake and munchies), they worried about the weather coming up with the best way to use heating and waterproofing charms, and pretty much everything else that one could worry about, and Harry had quite had enough of worrying.

It was only the 10th which meant they still had ten more days, everything was perfectly planned, but Ginny and Molly and even Hermione kept finding mistakes in the plans, things they wanted to change for better, last minute invitations were sent, and when for once they weren’t worrying about anything, Ginny was getting flowers and all kinds of unnecessary accessories for their wedding night, and Molly was obsessing over soon having new ginger babies in the family (unless of course they inherited Harry’s dark hair). And Harry was tired of it. He just wanted to go at least half a day without talking about the wedding, and fortunately he had just the friend for that.

********

“Wow this was the best day I’ve had in weeks now” Harry exclaimed leaning back on the sofa. It really was. Draco and he went out to a muggle restaurant the blond had found and they had a delicious meal and afterwards they spent hours just strolling down the streets of outer muggle London talking, both of them enjoying being away from the noise and the crowds before retreating to Draco’s flat.

“Wedding not going as planned?” Draco asked with a raised eyebrow. They avoided the topic most of the day, the blond seemed a little uncomfortable talking about it and Harry was more than glad to forget about it for as long as he could.

“Depends on what you count as going as planned.” Harry groaned. “Yes, everything is going the way Ginny and Molly want, and we are apparating to Shell cottage every day to check whether everything is okay, so yeah, it’s going as planned. Apparently it will be the most beautiful wedding ever, and it’s going to be perfect, the perfect hero of the perfect wizarding world marrying his perfect wife before going off and making lots of perfect ginger hero-babies, or at least that’s what we are expected to do according to Molly. But also yes, it’s a fucking mess and I’m so tired of all of it I just want to get done with it.”

“I’m sure it will go well and once it’s over and you don’t need to worry about anything, you two will be happy.” Draco said carefully, giving the brunette a forced smile. He didn’t really know what else to say. He could hardly say ‘just cancel the wedding already and break up with the stupid Weasley girl’, could he? But it was paining him. Not only the fact that Harry was getting married, but the fact that the boy wasn’t happy about it. Draco wanted him to be happy. Even if that meant that he was marrying Ginny.

“Yeah, I guess…” Harry didn’t sound too convinced, but Draco didn’t think much of it. He was just stressed. Even if the boy was attractracted to men, he could never love Draco, besides, he was just few days away from marrying the love of his life (according to the Daily Prophet at least), why wouldn’t he be happy? He might worry and be tired of all the planning, but that was only temporary, and everything would be fine. Of course, everything being fine for Harry and Ginny meant nothing would be fine for Draco, but he was used to that. “Do you have any more of that firewhiskey?”

“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” Draco asked with a raised eyebrow. Harry had downed quite a few shots throughout the afternoon, and he wasn’t drunk yet, but he was definitely tipsy, and it was probably a good time to stop drinking. Draco himself only had a couple of glasses of wine, he drank it more for the taste, and he hated it when he couldn’t control himself, so he always payed attention to stopping in time. Well, almost always...

“Of course it is.” Harry contested, and stood up, or rather tried to stand up, ending up stumbling and grabbing the blond boy’s shoulder to hold himself up and steady himself before making his way to the kitchen to get the bottle of alcohol. Draco just shook his head and helped the boy sit back down, as he seemed way to dizzy to control his steps and stay in balance. The brunette downed more than half of what was left in the bottle in one go before Draco could snatch it from him. “Hey! Give it back!”

“Harry, that’s more than enough for today, you are getting drunk. Alcohol solves nothing and you’ll just end up with a nice hangover and anyway you need to get home safe and without Ginny getting too pissed at you.”

“Fuck Ginny.” Harry hiccupped. Draco’s eyes widened. He could never tell whether alcohol made people say the truth or utter bullshit as their brain wasn’t functioning properly, but whichever this was, it came as a shock to him. Maybe it wasn’t only the stress of the wedding. Maybe their relationship wasn’t really working, and that’s why Harry kept showing up after rows and at weird times because something was off, maybe it wasn’t just the usual bickering and arguing of a couple getting married. “Dra-” Harry hiccupped again. “Dra…c…o… fuck I can’t speak” he slurred. The blond boy pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn’t like where this was headed. “I’m going to call you Dray, okay?” Harry announced. “Hey, that rhymed!”

“Harry, you need to get your shit together, okay?” Draco said cutting him off. “I’m going to make you a potion that will sober you up real quick and then you can go home. Stay here, I’ll be back in a sec, it doesn’t take long to make.”

“No, don’t go away!” Harry protested as Draco stood up, reaching out and clutching the blond boy’s hand.

“Fine.” Draco said with a sigh, and sat back onto the couch. How could he say 'no' to those eyes? Harry seemed content with this, but his hand remained on top of Draco’s, their fingers intertwined.

“Hey, can I stay for the night?” Harry asked after a few minutes of silence.

“No. No way, Harry, that wouldn’t be a good idea.”

“Why?”

“It just wouldn’t.” Draco said in a tight voice. “You are going home. I’m going to get you some coffee and some water, that should help a bit if you don’t want the potion.”

“Don’t go.”

“I’m only going to the kitchen, Harry, okay? I’ll be back in a minute.” He pulled his hand away, and stood up, walking over to the kitchen after staring at the brunette for a few seconds wondering whether he was alright.

He poured some water for Harry, and started making some coffee, staring out of the window into the darkness of the night while it brewed. No, a drunk, touchy-feely Harry spending the night definitely wasn’t a good idea. He would fix him a drink, and send him home by Floo, apparating wasn’t safe enough, there was no way Harry could apparate even to the next door room without splinching himself.

When Draco returned to the living room, a glass of water and a steaming cup of coffee in his hands he found Harry asleep on the couch. Sighing, he put the drinks down in front of the boy, deciding to leave him sleep for half an hour or so in hope that it would help, and retreated to the armchair in the corner of the room with a book in his hand.

Harry indeed was a little better when he woke up later that evening, he was still drunk and dizzy and speaking rubbish, but he let Draco feed him some food and he drank his water and he was okay with going home, even though he did ask whether he could stay over again, but the answer was still no, so he stepped into the fireplace with a handful of Floo powder and a grimace on his face, mumbling something about not wanting to go home before calling out ‘Grimmauld Place 12’ and disappearing in the flash of green flames.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Ginny screamed as soon as Harry retrieved his footing (meaning he slumped against the wall before he could topple over), stepping or rather stumbling out of the fireplace.

“What?” Harry slurred. He didn’t think anything was wrong. Well, nothing apart from the fact that he didn’t really want to be home with Ginny, and he had to do his best to fight down the urge of stepping back into the fireplace and going back to Draco’s place.

“Seriously, Harry-” Ginny seemed to be lost for words. “I swear, I just can’t. You really need to stop this, it isn’t okay.”

“Stop what?”

“YOU KNOW VERY WELL WHAT!” Ginny shouted. “Seeing Malfoy. And getting drunk. I think he’s bad influence, and you really need to quit alcohol. Merlin, I thought I knew the man I was marrying.”

“You don’t have to, you know.” I have someone else I want to spend all my days with.

“What do you mean?” The redhead’s voice was cold as ice. Harry still wasn’t 100% sure of his surroundings and what his fiancée thought the problem was or anything, but he knew something was off. Something was really off. So he just walked out of the living room mumbling something about feeling tired and going to bed and headed upstairs towards their shared bedroom, staggering up the stairs.

The next morning arrived with rain and a terrible headache for Harry, along with silent treatment from his fiancée, Harry guessed he deserved it.

A few hours later after he got himself together, took some hangover potion, and even the rain had stopped falling, Ginny still hadn’t spared him even a fleeting glimpse that day.

“Gin, can we talk, please? I’m sorry if I said or did something… but I swear I don’t remember what happened. Please. Just talk to me!” He pleaded as soon as Ginny got off the Floo with Hermione. She had avoided him all morning, she got up before he did, made breakfast but had already finished eating by the time Harry arrived downstairs and was busy doing the washing up. After that she went out to do the shopping, then she had a bath, then she sat around reading her book, not looking up even when Harry was talking to her before disappearing to talk to Hermione.

“What?” Ginny asked turning around, pretending that she didn’t hear Harry’s words. “Were you saying…?”

“Ginny, could you just please stop pretending like you can’t hear what I’m saying?” Harry asked, raising his voice. “We’re getting married for Merlin’s sake we can’t go on like this, not talking about problems.”

“Oh, are we now?” Ginny snorted, rolling her eyes, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“What?” Harry asked confused. “Of course we are… what do you even mean?”

“You don’t remember anything from last night?”

“What? What’s that got to do with anything?” Harry couldn’t understand what was going on.

“Just answer the question.” Ginny’s tone was cold as ice again.

“I-” Harry stammered. “I don’t know. I remember being at Draco’s. And coming home. And falling over on my way to the bedroom.” This wasn’t the complete truth, though he wasn’t lying either. He did remember having a sort-of-row with Ginny, but not what it was about. He also remembered not wanting to come home, but staying at Draco’s place. He had to admit, he wouldn’t have minded if he had chosen to act on the latter, at least he would probably be home still instead of having this uncomfortable conversation. Home. When did Draco's place became 'home' in his mind?

“Convenient.” Ginny said, rolling her eyes.

“What do you mean ‘convenient’? What’s convenient about it? I was drunk, Gin, what were you expecting?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe you not to be drunk and talk bullshit?!” She stormed out of the room. Or rather would have stormed, if Harry hadn’t caught her arm. “Let me go!”

“No. Not until you tell me what the fuck is wrong with you!” Harry shouted. “Look, I’m sorry if I said something, I was drunk, I didn’t mean it, but please just tell me, let me apologize and we can forget about this whole thing! There’s no need for you to be difficult!”

“I’m the one being difficult?” Ginny let our a short, disbelieved laugh.

“Yes! If you could just tell me…”

“Just forget about it.” Ginny said, rolling her eyes, shoving Harry off freeing her arm, and walking out. Harry just sighed, and sat back on the couch. Nine more days until the wedding. He had nine days to make it up to Ginny for whatever he said, and he didn’t have a clue where to start.

But in the end it worked out. Ginny seemed to have forgotten about the conflict, and Harry really did his best not to instigate arguments and avoid whiskey, and his fiancée was a little more patient and open. Of course, this didn’t mean they didn’t have rows every second day, but at least they were talking. And Harry tried hard to turn every thought of Draco, or thought of going over to the boy, to make out sessions with Ginny that led to bed. Harry wished he could say it worked and he didn't imagine lean, flat chested body, silver blond hair and grey eyes; whenever he had sex with his fiancee.

There was a specific one time when he just couldn't lie to himself anymore. He was laying in bed at five am in the morning, not being able to sleep after the night of fun with Ginny. He was thinking about how both Draco and Ginny made him feel and how he reacted to them. One of them was definitely standing out from the other as he remembered Hermione's words, while she was talking about Ron: "It's the way he makes me feel, you know, I can feel it in my whole body. It's like sparks, even after all these years I still feel the same teenage joy when I kiss him, or look at him. He annoys me, but I love him. We make each other better people. I can't imagine sharing my life with anyone, but him. We went through too much shit together, we just get each other." Harry came to few realizations, he definitely wasn't straight, he was in love with the idea of Ginny not her, and most importantly, he fancied Draco Malfoy. He really did. All of him. It scared Harry, he finally came clean to himself and it indeed ruined everything that was about to happen.

Harry was afraid of this revelation. He simply could not be...., and with DRACO? Everyone expected him to marry Ginny, he himself even expected that from himself. He had to go along with the wedding for reasons. He needed this marriage. It would get better after the wedding. He'll fall in love with Ginny and he will get Draco out of his head. It will work.

Harry cried this morning and decided to visit Seamus, who occupied Harry with showing him new drinks at his pub and feeding Harry some of experimental food. It wasn't bad to Harry's surprise, it actually tasted pretty darn good, he even asked for more of the tasty creamy pasta with mushrooms vegetables and vegetarian sausage. Food always seemed to lift up Harry's mood, food and alcohol.

He spent the whole day helping Seamus out in the pub, hanging out with him, talking about life, until Dean apparated in front of them, walked over to Seamus and planted a kiss on his lips. It made both Harry and Seamus blush, for different reasons of course. Harry didn't know they were together, he didn't know they were gay. Actually, Dean explained to Harry that he was bisexual, which meant that he was attracted to both man and woman. He said that smiling lovingly at Seamus and adding "but of course, my heart belongs to this beautiful man." which again, made Seamus blush and roll his eyes. Harry felt like he shouldn't be looking at them, it was way too intimate. They were both so in love, Harry felt like a third wheel. He was happy for them though.

That whole situation made Harry think, and after a longer talk with both of his friends he came to the conclusion that he felt the same as Dean. The both boys congratulated him and told him they knew this all along, said that they could see the way he was looking at Cedric back in the fourth year, which made Harry growl at them. He did not share his feelings towards Draco as he didn't see any sense in it. He was getting married to Ginny and he was planning on falling in love with her anyway.

Next days Harry spent helping with last minute wedding preparation. He tried to make Ginny and himself Harry. He believed they would get to the point were both of them would be madly in love. They had to.

**********

The day of the wedding was a beautiful day, even Draco agreed on this, despite loathing everything else about the day.

It might have been the second half of December, but the sun was shining, and simple fur-lined coats or robes were enough to keep the cold out, but even if someone was cold, the heating charms held, and the tent was warm and cozy, packed with food and candles and people chattering excitedly.

Shell Cottage itself was off the premises for the time before the wedding, as it was where Ginny was getting prepared in the company of her mother, her best man, Ron, and the two bridesmaids, her best friends, Hermione and Luna who were more than happy to help her with her dress and flowers and all the other girly things.

Harry was greeting the guests in the company of Dean and Seamus, before retreating to talk to Draco when he noticed the blond arrive and got tired of small talk with people from Hogwarts he hardly knew and Ministry people, and Ginny’s teammates.

“I see you are enjoying yourself, aren’t you?” Harry asked with a grin as he approached Draco who was standing around alone, watching the waves of the sea, nursing a glass of firewhiskey in his hand. He let out a short laugh, and turned around to see Harry. The brunette was already in his wedding robes, which were simple black with a hem embroidered in silver with constellations, hand done by Molly. Underneath he was wearing a plain white shirt and a bowtie, his hair was messy, but just in the way that made it look perfect without looking scruffy or unkempt. And it wasn’t only his hair, he looked perfect all in all.

“You look good.” Draco said, with a shy grin, doing his best to tear his gaze away from the brunette, quickly downing the rest of his whiskey.

“Thanks.” Harry said with a slight blush. “Ron told me I was looking like a poofter, but I actually really like these robes.”

“You are marrying his sister for Merlin’s sake” Draco said, choking on his breath. “How could you be gay? Besides, how can clothes define your sexuality?”

Harry just shrugged. He remembered the night at Seamus's pub and his realization there. He may not be gay, but he was definitely not straight. He was still a bit insecure and scared about it, but seeing the love coming from Dean and Seamus he felt better about his feelings. He just knew he couldn't allow his feelings towards Draco develop further. Draco was looking at him with wide eyes, but he ignored it. This wasn’t a path he wanted to follow, or at least he knew he shouldn’t.

“You look good too.” He said with a smile, before changing the topic to something less uncomfortable. And it was true. Draco was dressed in a midnight blue shirt with black robes, which looked good on him, highlighting his pale skin and hair. But that was none of Harry’s concern and he knew that. He would be seeing Ginny in less than an hour who was going to look beautiful, and he was going to marry her, and nothing else mattered.

Ginny indeed was beautiful, and the whole wedding was beautiful. She looked amazing in her dress which was cream coloured at the top, and dark blue, almost black at the bottom (almost like the colour of Draco’s shirt, Harry thought), where it was embroidered with constellations just like Harry’s robes.

It was dark outside, and it got colder, but the heating charms held. The inside of the tent was decorated beautifully, Luna did an amazing job with the flowers and the fairy lights, it looked magical, almost unrealistically beautiful. The crowd was quiet while they said their vows and cheered at the right times, and Hermione was the one to catch Ginny’s bouquet, making both her and Ron blush scarlet and Molly and the rest of the people who knew them, cheer even louder. The band they invited was great, and the food was amazing, and they were having a lovely time. Mostly, at least. Harry started to become a little uncomfortable when people went up to Ginny and started asking her about what it was like to be married to the ‘chosen one’ and how she achieved everything possible now that she married the hero and saviour of the wizarding world.

After a while he couldn’t stand it any longer, he excused himself and stood up from the dinner table, and walked outside the tent, wrapped in one of the blankets Molly brought for anyone who was cold.

The night was still, and the sounds coming from the tent seemed so faint it was almost unreal, he kept glancing down at his ring finger to remind himself that this was actually happening.

Hermione joined him after a while, also wrapped in a blanket. She stopped next to Harry, resting her head on his shoulder.

“What does it feel like to be a married man?” She whispered.

“I don’t know. It feels the same, to be honest.”

“Are you happy?”

“Yes.” Harry said simply. He was. Momentarily at least, now that he wasn’t surrounded by his friends and admirers, and that he wasn’t having an argument with Ginny. But he didn’t want to destroy the moment.

“That’s the main thing.” Hermione said with a smile, and she squeezed Harry’s hand.

“Oi! Chosen one! You are expected to be inside, don’t leave your wife to deal with all that shit on her own!”

Harry tensed immediately, and Hermione noticed, giving him a worried glance, before turning to Ron, who walked up to them, putting his arm around Hermione.

“I miss this, you know.” Hermione spoke up after standing like that for a while. “Being together like this, just the three of us.”

“Yeah, especially here at Shell Cottage, I keep thinking about the last time we were here.” Ron said. Harry just nodded, and swallowed thickly. He visited Dobby’s grave before they set up the tent and everything, and he didn’t mind it that they held the wedding here, but standing by the sea, he couldn’t help but think back to when they left from there, with Griphook, and Hermione as Bellatrix, and arrived back from Malfoy Manor, landing in the water, and how he held the little body of the elf who had helped them so much, until the very last minute. And he wasn’t able to save him. Hermione must have known what he was thinking, because she squeezed his hand again. Harry gave him a forced smile, and returned his gaze to the slow beating of the waves.

After a while, Harry went back into the tent, and made small talk with everyone who came up to him, and even gave a few autographs, even though he hated it, he ate another few plates of food even though he wasn’t exactly hungry, and he pretended to be excited about the presents he and Ginny got, most of which were terrible, some ugly pieces of chinaware and other bits like that.

Later, they moved the tables out of the way, and served more cocktails and other alcoholic drinks, and the band started playing harder, and everyone started dancing, Harry danced with Ginny, of course, but then with Hermione, and Ron, and Molly, and Fleur, and Luna, he fooled around a bit with Seamus and Dean who were pretty drunk already and just ended up snogging, so Harry left them to it, and said goodbye to some of the older guests from the Ministry and Hogwarts who were a bit over enjoying alcohol and music, Kingsley and McGonagall for example, amongst others.

After they left, Harry wandered around a bit on his own. Ginny was dancing with her father and her brothers, and Harry was happy enough to be off the dance parquet to join them, so he went looking for Draco, who he hadn’t seen since a little after the ceremony itself, and he was beginning to worry about him. He hoped he had just gone home early, and nobody seemed to have seen him, so he guessed this was the case, but he wished he had at least told him he was leaving.

As the night progressed, more and more people left, or were sleeping on the couches and benches knocked out by way too much alcohol, by the time 1am passed, it was only the Hogwarts gang who were up and dancing, minus the few couples who were off snogging or doing Merlin knows what somewhere.

Harry was actually enjoying himself a lot, the pressure of the wedding had gone away, it didn’t even feel like a wedding anymore, more like a Hogwarts reunion party. And he didn’t care if anyone called him childish or immature for it, but he enjoyed it much better than the thought of being a mature and responsible husband and soon-to-be father.

#drarry #drarry squad #harry potter #hp #draco malfoy #drarry fic #my fic #feelings we can't let go #fic #ao3 #fanfic #wip #my writing #fic update #hpdm

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ijustwant2write · 6 years

Text

A Betraying Secret-Arthur Pendragon x Reader

(GIF credits to owner)

(A/N: So BBC’s Merlin has started again on SYFY and I had to write an imagine about it. It’s one of my favourite programmes.)

Masterlist

Summary: Arthur and (Y/N) have been married for quite some time now, they are taking their first trip to a nearby kingdom. However, on their journey they fall into trouble and Merlin reveals a big secret.

Characters: Arthur Pendragon x Reader, Merlin x Reader (platonic)

Meanings: (Y/N)= Your name

Warnings: bit of violence

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Everything is ready…I think.” Merlin said mostly to himself as he finally shut one of the trunks.

I giggled.“Thank you Merlin. I know Arthur made you to this all by yourself.”

“Well, doesn’t make much difference.”

“You can go rest now. We’ve got a long journey tomorrow.”

Merlin gave me one last smile as he bowed before heading out of the door. As he was about to leave, Arthur walked in and stopped him.

“Where are you off to?” he asked.

I rolled my eyes playfully, knowing how this was going to turn out.

“The queen has just dismissed me. I am going to rest before tomorrow.” Merlin answered.

Arthur looked confused.“You’ve packed everything already?”

“Yes.”

“And you did this all by yourself.”

“Mhm.”

Arthur looked over to me suspiciously.“You did not help him did you?”

I shook my head.“No, he is telling the truth.”

“Alright then. Be up early tomorrow Merlin.” Arthur basically shoved him out the door after that, shutting it behind him.

I made myself comfy in our bed, trying not to laugh at their antics. It was constant bickering but they weren’t cruel to each other. Arthur started to rid of his clothes as I settled down, mumbling to himself.

“Do we really need to go tomorrow? It isn’t that important, I’m sure.” he said as he disappeared behind the screen.

I smiled.“Arthur, we need to visit those around us. We cannot expect everyone to come to Camelot.”

He walked over to me.“Why not? We have a kingdom to rule.”

“And so do they.” I rolled over to face him as he laid down.“Don’t worry, it will be fun.”

“If you say so.”

“We’ll only be gone three days and then it’s back to normal.”

Arthur smiled before kissing me goodnight. We held each other as we fell asleep, knowing it was going to be a long day of travelling. However, it took some time for me to fall asleep; there was something in the back of my mind keeping me awake, telling me something was going to happen tomorrow. What is was, I did not know.

Throughout the morning I had not been able to focus, due to the lack of sleep as well as that bad feeling I had. Arthur was concerned, constantly checking on me. I told him what was wrong and he tried to console me; it didn’t work. I tried to convince myself that it was nerves, this would be our first trip together, the first time others would see us together. I was the new queen of Camelot, it was understandable, surely?

As I climbed onto my horse, Arthur approached me again.“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I will be. I’m just over thinking everything.” I answered.

“Stay close today.”

We set off on the journey, our servants, guards and knights accompanying us also. Faking a smile and talking with my friends, I had to pretend that everything was fine, that this horrible feeling wasn’t building in my stomach.

“My lady, are you alright?” Merlin asked.

“Hm? Oh yes, just tired. I did not sleep well last night.” I answered.

“Do you need something to help you? I can ask Gaius when we return.”

“Thank you but there’s no need. It was just one sleepless night.”

Just as I finished my sentence, a cry of pain erupted through the forest. It came from one of our guards then another. They both laid dead on the ground, both having an arrow stuck in their torsos. Everyone started shouting, unsure of what to do. Arthur shouted the orders, him and his men arming themselves as they jumped off their horses. Further ahead, bandits emerged from behind the trees, all of them armed themselves.

“Protect the king and queen!” a knight shouted out to everyone.

“(Y/N), this way, quickly!” Merlin ordered.

We rode away from the group, some guards following us.“What about Arthur?!”

“He can protect himself! He has the knights too.”

We continued riding until our horses freaked out, rearing up into their back legs and making us fall off. The guards wasted no time helping me to my feet. As I turned to one of them, I screamed as another arrow pierced through their throat, blood splattering over me. I had been right, I had been right this whole time.

“(Y/N), come on!” Merlin pulled me away as the guards continued fighting.

We hid behind a huge rock, crouching down as we caught our breath. Merlin kept looking around as I started to panic. Now we were split, how were we supposed to find them again? Would we find them again?!

“There they are!” a gruff, unfriendly voice called out.

We were surrounded, neither of us had weapons. How were we to defend ourselves? Five men approached us, all looking happy with themselves. As I thinking that these were my final moments on this earth, I held onto Merlin’s hand, only just realising that he was mumbling under his breath. Looking up, I caught his eyes changing to a gold colour before my head snapped to the front; all of the men were sent flying back by an invisible force, groaning as they landed in their backs.

Speechless over what happened, I decided to ignore it for now, we had a much bigger problem. Three more bandits rushed towards us, we were trapped again. I looked up to Merlin, expecting him to do something. I could see he was hesitant to do anything but we were going to die if he didn’t. He raised his arm upwards, pointing towards a huge, thick branch on a tree. I followed his eyeline, hearing him quickly mumble the words before the branch snapped off; they had no time to react as it fell on them. Still in awe of these powers, I felt myself being tugged along.

“Merlin, wait-”

“Please my lady, we need to keep moving.” Merlin begged.

I could hear other voices as we kept on running, however these were more familiar. Still being cautious, Merlin and I sneaked around before we finally spotted some familiar faces. Ignoring the bodies strewn around the place (unfortunately some of them were ours), my feet carried me to my husband as soon as I saw him. I let out a huge sigh of relief, happy that he was still here.

“Thank god you’re alright!” Arthur exclaimed as I leapt into his embrace.

“And you. I thought something terrible was going to happen.”

He pulled away, panic evident in his voice as he looked me over.“You aren’t injured are you?”

“No, Merlin protected me.”

“Merlin? Are you serious?”

“Yes, he took out eight men for me.”

We both looked back to the young boy. I saw his eyes widen slightly. He didn’t think I was going to tell his secret, surely?

“How did he manage that?”

“Why are you so surprised?”

“Because it’s Merlin, have you seen him?”

I hit his shoulder.“Be grateful. I could be dead if it wasn’t for him.”

Arthur refrained from rolling his eyes, approaching his servant.“Merlin, I actually do need to thank you. You somehow saved (Y/N)’s life, and I thank you deeply for that.”

Merlin let out a small smile.“Well, it’s all in the job description.” Knowing that we had to evacuate the area, those who were left continued the travelling, deciding to set up camp for the night. Everyone was still in shock, scared about sleeping. There could be an attack without any warning. As the night drew closer, I knew I had to speak to Merlin otherwise it would be on my mind all night.

“Turns out you were right about that bad feeling.” he started as I sat next to him. He had been tasked with washing the pots and pans bless him.

“Unfortunately I was.”

He scrubbed harder. I could tell that he was avoiding the topic.

“Merlin, we need to talk about what happened.”

He stopped what he was doing, putting down the utensils.“Do we?”

I hushed my voice.“I just want you to know that what you did earlier was amazing. I’ve never believed in Uther’s laws about magic.”

“You really think so?”

“You saved my life today and you didn’t even hesitate. You’re a real hero. And I bet you’ve used it more than once.”

“Perhaps.”

“I promise not to tell Arthur. This is still dangerous for you.”

“Really? You really won’t tell?”

“Of course not! I would never put you in that sort of situation. You just need to be more careful with it.”

“Ok, I will.”

“No, you need to promise.”

“Ok, I promise.”

#Merlin #merlin imagine #merlin imagines #merlin one shot #merlin x reader #bbc #bbc merlin #arthur pendragon #arthur pendragon imagine #arthur pendragon imagines #arthur pendragon one shot #arthur pendragon x reader

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