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#arthur weasley's parents
opengravesrp · 2 years
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Sweethearts, reimagined: Septimus Weasley and Cedrella Black, as portrayed by Victor Norlander and Ruby Pedersen. 
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greenerteacups · 4 months
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Hi GT, I hope you are doing well! who is your favorite Weasley?
Thank you! Absolute treat of a question. Oh, man. It's Ron, right? It was always going to be Ron.
So here's the thing: the Weasleys are a really well-characterized family in that you can kind of see a lot of character emerge through limited sketches and contextual information. Bill is Number One Boy, the best at everything, oldest child who was always confident and at peace with his indisputable place in the family; so he's a chill, cool, incredibly competent guy who naturally takes-charge. Charlie is a patented never-grew-out-of-your-middle-school-dragons-phase Weird Kid, but like, mindfully and enthusiastically so, because his parents probably still had plenty of time to support and nurture his interests; plus he's also different to Bill and excels in different ways, so they aren't too competitive (as we see). Percy is the first one to suffer from the pressure of mounting expectations, and he's very quickly followed by the twins, who do the classic "if I can't be the best I'll be the worst" late-sibling trick of acting up for attention, so he gets lost in the shuffle. (The fight between Ron and Percy in Chapter 58 is, hence, in substantially about the relationship between the two most-ignored members of the Weasley family, and that's why Ron is so much angrier at him than the rest of them. Like I've said before, Ron always thinks he's got it the worst, but he takes pride in being able to kinda "tough it out," and nothing pisses him off like other people's self-pity.) Ginny is obviously the baby of the family, a girl with everyone wrapped around her finger, and I love her, but I feel like we didn't get enough grit in her portrait— she's just really successful in everything she does, in a way that can read as flat to some people, and certainly read as flat to me my first time through the books. In fact, Ginny reminds me a lot of Bill: first daughter/first son, described often as "cool" and clever and good at basically everything, charming and generally liked by all. Which is lovely. A delight to read, just like the twins are. But my taste in characters ranges way more fucked-up and mean.
Ron is the last boy, "sixth son of a woman who wanted a daughter" (fascinating line that complicates everything we know about Molly's relationship with her kids — and BTW, how the hell does Ron know that, and how old was he when he learned it? And this also comes into play with Molly's cry of "not my daughter" to Bellatrix which like, as a moment obviously fucking rules, but also — there's a reason she says daughter, not "child," right? Do you see what I'm digging at? Anyway). Ron meets Harry and recognizes himself in how Harry defaults to thinking people don't care about him, or won't help him if he asks, because — although they come from very different circumstances, Ron's home was completely loving, just not as nurturing as he always needed it to be — Ron usually goes in assuming people don't care about him, too. So his first instinct is to go: "Alright. Well, I'll care about you, then, weird stranger. Do you want to share my horrible sandwich, and also my life, perhaps?" Goddamn! Sixth of seven in a house with never enough to go around, and he's immediately like: "fuck it, room for one more." Because he could have been Percy — and you can see it in the way that Ron is mean, sometimes, he's not careful with his words and he struggles with empathy and he's got a vengeful streak that comes out when he's pissed — but he isn't selfish enough, he loves too much and too easily, and it takes shockingly little to earn his loyalty. You just have to pay a little attention to him.
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mirrorofliterature · 1 year
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percy vs the twins is a smoke screen
or: the real issue isn’t between the twins and percy, it’s between all the weasley children and their parents, and the twins took out their frustration on percy - and to a lesser but still considerable extent ron - much more accessible targets than their parents.
like, george and fred - particularly fred - clearly lack appropriate outlets for their energy, they are chronically understimulated. they are very intelligent and clever, and it’s almost similar to james and sirius in a way - pranking because they are just so bored otherwise. quidditch is a useful outlet, but I think that they think the only way they can get their parents attention - particularly molly’s - is by acting out, gathering that negative attention is better than none.
it doesn’t help (and this has been pointed out by many others before) that they receive conflicting reactions from their parents, with molly scolding and yelling and arthur tacitly encouraging them.
I do think that george and fred do bear some responsibility for their at times abhorrent treatment of percy and ron, but I think the larger responsibility lays at molly and arthur’s feet for not properly nurturing their sons’ emotional needs.
tl;dr: the weasley children need to unite against their parents and george and fred were little shits because they lacked proper enrichment, goodnight!
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wellpresseddaisy · 2 months
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Use Any Means part 10
If he was asked, years later, what he’d eaten for dinner the night he met Mr. Du, Percy Weasley would be completely incapable of answering. He remembered it as one of the better meals he’d eaten in several weeks (mostly as it wasn’t hastily eaten cafeteria sandwiches), but the contents remained a mystery. Hermione shattered his concentration on his dinner companions by sending a note down to the dining room right before the cheese course. He unfolded it and tried to focus on the words:
Percy,
Ron just told me that he forgot to mention one important point from last year. Umbridge forced Harry to write lines with a blood quill for much of the year. You can come up and see the scars if you feel the need to verify this.
Hermione
Percy rose without even thinking about it.
“I’m terribly sorry, but I think I need to speak with Miss Granger immediately.”
“Of course, Mr. Weasley,” Mr. Du sounded amused for some reason as he rang for a footman. “Ah, Reynolds, could you take Mr. Weasley up to the day room, please?”
Percy followed the young footman uout of the room, his mother’s
“He isn’t usually so distracted, Mr. Du, although I know he hasn’t been eating or sleeping properly. I…oh yes, this would do it. I’ll show you, Mr. Du, but you’ll have to remain calm.”
trailing out the room behind them.
Did she know? Did everyone know? He’d worked so hard to protect his family over the last year, once he worked out what the Minister wanted. He knew before that awful argument, but who else could get information out? He got the position he did  because Fudge thought he was a useful naif and he could organize a schedule like nobody’s business. Did the Minister know what Dolores had been up to at Hogwarts? Or had he sent her there to be rid of her simpering for a year? Percy could never quite tell where things stood between them, honestly. Fudge seemed to lean on her in the strangest ways when she was at the Ministry. Without her, he seemed almost normal. Percy had just about got him to admit to You-Know-Who’s return privately when that mess at the Ministry happened.
The clean-up alone gave him the headache. Writing a statement for Fudge and handling his own feelings on the matter nearly had him down with migraine. He still couldn’t quite believe they’d lost Sirius Black. Sirius, who had been his only link, who wrote him the letter that started him collecting information for the Order. Percy didn’t know what he would have done without Sirius’ encouragement during some of those dark days. Sirius understood estrangement from one’s family and just how much it hurt, even when it was a necessary evil. As if he hadn’t see through the Minister’s ulterior motives in thirty seconds. He’d helped raise Fred and George, for Merlin’s sake. If he missed something that transparent then he deserved what he got.
He just wished he could have saved his mother some heartache. She worked so hard to keep hearth and home together and he’d…best not go down that road now. That road led to weeping into a teacup and far more mucus than one should have to handle in a day. Bill and Charlie each sent a howler that he still blushed to remember. As Sirius said, sometimes you simply had to do what needed doing and pay the price later. He could carry his family’s anger with him as long as he needed to if it kept them safe. That was all he wanted and what did it get him? His brother and sister rushing into peril (again) and Harry tortured for a year before losing his godfather.
Why the hell hadn’t Sirius flooded him? He’d told the man and told the man that if anything kicked off at the Ministry he was to know first. He could have…perhaps he could have stopped some of it. Perhaps he could have kept Sirius out of it or Ron or Hermione from being so horribly injured. They’d mocked him as a perfect, but he knew the value of a querulously official tone. People might think one weak, but that was how one claimed the element of surprise. If he’d known about Dolores…did Ron truly think he’d allow that sort of thing to go on? Did he believe Percy would allow a child his mother claimed as one of her own (a young man his brother claimed as brother) to be grievously injured? To be tortured?
Percy had worked himself into such an affronted lather by the time Reynolds coughed discreetly and said,
“The day room, Mr. Weasley.”
that he forgot all decorum and slammed the door open.
“How dare you keep something like this to yourself, Ronald Bilius?” he thundered.
Gone was Pompous Perfect Prefect Percy who couldn’t get anyone to mind him. This was pure enraged elder brother, like Charlie’s big hand landing on your shoulder as he growled ‘You’re knicked, sunshine’ or Bill’s incredibly weary ‘Right then, could you run me through your thoroughly asinine plan one more time, please’. Ron straightened up from his sideways slump on the sofa with a horrified squeak. Percy watched as he scrambled among Hermione’s books, trying to right the mess his sudden shift created.
“I can certainly promise you that the minute you turn seventeen I’m hunting up Great Grand Aunt Viola’s hairbrush. What would ever make you think to keep actual torture a secret?”
He heard Reynolds choke on a laugh as he closed the door. They’d certainly give the Servants’ Hall something to talk about tonight.
“What on earth…” Hermione finished rescuing her books and stacked them on the side table.
“And you, Miss Granger. I expected more sense from you.” He scolded.
“You’re the one who wrote that letter!” Ron protested, standing to square up with him.
When had his little brother shot up like that?
“Which I expected you to see straight through! I taught you about ulterior motives when you were four, Ronald. I thought you might remember.”
“Ulterior…” Ron’s voice trailed off as he thought. “You utter prat!”
“Do you really think I wouldn’t see straight through Fudge and Umbridge’s machinations? Fred and George had more guile in their little fingers when they were three than those two have ever managed between them. Of course I saw through it. The best I could do was make you angry enough to stop speaking to me, all of you. Although I had some hopes my brother wouldn’t be a complete idiot about it.”
Ron spluttered something, probably something foul which Percy decided he didn’t need to know, while Hermione looked thoughtful.
“You’ve been sending information to the Order, haven’t you?” she asked.
“Mr. Black,” Percy confirmed.
“I thought you were so wrapped up in the Minister that you’d never lift a finger to help.” Ron admitted.
“I could have tried. With Dolores at Hogwarts I was slowly bringing Fudge around. Next time you decide to form an extracurricular fighting force, could you possibly let me know? I could have had him laughing the whole thing off and not attempting to arrest Dumbledore.” Percy suddenly felt every single hour of overtime he’d worked.
“Then you shouldn’t have been such a berk at Harry’s trial.” Ron muttered.
Percy stifled the urge to remind Ron who taught him how to use a fork.
“I wasn’t at Harry’s trial. Dolores suggested that I would have trouble with impartiality so I spent that morning reorganizing the filing system.”
“But Harry saw you there as a clerk. You hardly even looked at him.”
Percy’s mind whirred. Could someone have…one wasn’t perhaps as careful in the Ministry, at work, as one might be elsewhere. He could have shed some hair and it could have been used in Polyjuice, he supposed.
“This has suddenly become a touch more complicated.”
“Do you believe us about the blood quill?” Hermione asked.
“Of course I believe you. You’re none of you liars and it’s exactly like Dolores.”
“Then sit down a minute and have a cup of tea or something. Mum’s right—you look peaky.” Ron slouched to a sideboard and poured a cup of tea.
Hermione stared until he moved to an easy chair across from the sofa and sank into it. A side table scuttled over to park itself by his arm rest. He patted it absently. Ron brought his tea over and then went back to the sofa. Merlin but he felt like a perfect again, dealing with miscreants.
“Now, from the beginning, please. What happened between Harry and Dolores?”
“And you’ll look at Harry’s hand?” Ron pressed.
‘I’ll look at Harry’s hand, I promise you.”
“We, er…” Hermione sighed, looking a bit chagrined. “The truth is I used my injury from the Ministry to guilt Harry into giving up the memories of his detentions. Madame Pomfrey took them for us and sealed them so you know they haven’t been tampered with. He’ll probably be put out with us, but we can give them to you, if you think you’ll need proof.”
“I’m going to the Minister directly after this,” Percy said. “It’s a bit delicate now, with the blood quill and Harry being the Black Duke, but I’ll talk Fudge around. The memories will help. Now, from the beginning.”
He fixed Ron and Hermione with a Look and they began talking.
--------------------------------------
Ron fiddled with the tea set at the sideboard for a moment before pouring himself a cup. He felt like a complete and utter juggins, not trusting Percy. He should have known, should have read that letter again instead of pitching it onto the fire in a rage. He throat hurt from all the talking. Percy took them over and over and over the year before he produced a dictaquill from his breast pocket and set it on parchment, making them say everything over again. Even feeling as he did, knowing Percy had everything under as much control as he could have him a sense of relief. He’d just wanted someone to do something about…about the whole terrible year they’d endured. All the decrees and the Quidditch ban and Harry bleeding everywhere all the time and Umbridge’s smug, today face every time she made one of them hurt. He should have tried to trust Percy.
Wasn’t Percy the one who was always there to help? Bill and Charlie were brilliant, but they weren’t interested in little brothers much. Percy had helped Mum and kept him entertained and taught him all sorts of things. And he repaid that by taking a leaf from Fred and George’s book as soon as he could.
“Ron, please stop fidgeting and come sit. They sent up a plate of sandwiches.”
Ron sighed and brought tea over to the sofa for both of them. He felt awash with it now, but he wanted to be awake just in case Harry woke earlier than expected. Sandwiches might help.
“What did Percy mean about finding your great grand aunt’s hairbrush when you turn seventeen?” Hermione asked suddenly.
Ron choked on his ham and cheddar.
“You can’t just go asking people things like that over sandwiches, Hermione!” he protested once he cleared his windpipe of crumbs.
“You aren’t people; you’re Ron.” Hermione bit into an egg and cress daintily.
“You could have waited until I swallowed,” he complained.
“Well?”
“It’s just…” Ron stopped and stared down at his plate. “You know magical society think my family is strange, yeah?”
“I didn’t think it was everyone.”
“I reckon it is, about, at least in the Hogwarts set. It isn’t just Dad or the Burrow being what it is. It’s…Mum and Dad have never hit us.”
“That’s strange?”
Her tone suggested it shouldn’t be strange, but Ron kept staring at his lap.
“You know how old fashioned people can be. I know loads of people at Hogwarts wouldn’t dare behave at home how they will at school. Bet they catch hell for it, though. Someone’s always going to tell, especially if it'll get them out of trouble.”
“And your parents don’t…Ron that isn’t strange at all. My parents have never laid hands on me, either.”
“It is in this world.” Ron gestured to the room. “Here your parents…they don’t own you, but there’s a lot more allowed. The magical world left the non-magical one when physical punishment was normal and…and considered the right thing to do for the good of one’s soul. Dad got injured early in his career and had to stay back at the office. They had all these non-magical journals that did research on raising kids and they all found that hitting didn’t work. Dad brought them home and Mum read them and they decided together. So, yeah, everyone thinks we’re weird and spoiled or something like that.”
“I’m still not sure where the hairbrush comes in.” Hermione reached over and grasped one of his hands.
“Oh, that’s to get people off Mum’s back. She’ll mutter something about it or tell us that we’re going to regret it when Dad gets home if we aren’t behaving. People still know, though. But the seventeen thing…” Ron felt his cheeks heat and struggled not to snigger.  
“What on earth could be so embarrassing?”
“It isn’t, not really. Mum…she…we’ve all of us asked why and I think I asked when Mum was distracted because she told me about their decision and how they never wanted any of us to be afraid of them or telling them anything and then…then she told me that it was perfectly acceptable for adults to decide they wanted…that in a relationship and some people liked to be in charge and enjoyed a more traditional set of roles and…er, that’s about when she realized what she was saying and almost ran out of the room because I was nine. So now when Bill or Charlie or Percy is annoyed with us they, er, well the birthday thing. Percy usually isn’t that open...must’ve really hacked him off.”
Hermione snorted, pressing her lips together. “Sorry…sorry, Ron it’s…”
“It was pretty funny at the time. Still is, now. Mum’s face, Hermione.”
“But it’s really…”
“Not sure how common, honestly, but accepted, yeah. I know there’s a few I wouldn’t want to be…Merlin, what if someone found someone like that for Snape?” Ron went off in a peal of laughter. “I’m imagining Lucius Malfoy interviewing people. Dad says he’s always talking Snape up at the Ministry. What if he’s trying to get him off his hands?”
“He’d eat them alive, honestly.” But she giggled anyway. “Really even OWL and NEWT students?”
“If you’re under their roof then you’re under their rules. Some families have different rules, too, like you might be of age for the government at seventeen but the family charter says it’s twenty-one or twenty-five. Mum has some corkers about people she knew. It’s one reason some get married so young.”
“How do you wrap your head around it? Especially considering how, oh, I don’t know, Malfoy behaves at school. Or Smith, who is a complete toe-rag.”
Ron shrugged. “I reckon it’s growing up knowing and knowing we were different.”
“And…was it Fred’s left buttock? They make it sound like a giant joke.”
“It is now because Dad apologized and promised it would never happen again. And it hasn’t. I think Dad was more upset over all of it than even the twins, but I was three.”
“Do you think there are any books…” Hermione began.
Ron fought bravely but lost his composure completely. “A how-to or maybe a stud book…” he managed around hiccups of mirth.
“Ronald! Don’t be crass or it will be a how-to manual!” she thwacked him with a cushion.
“Oooh-er, promises!”
Ron hauled a cushion over his face and howled as Hermione bashed him over the head.
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carewyncromwell · 1 year
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Percy 🤝 Carewyn
The summer of 1995 was a very busy time for Carewyn at the Ministry. Normally she would’ve been glad for the extra case work, as it would’ve allowed her to help more people, which had always been her dream and goal...but unfortunately, most of this “work” as of late had been to assist the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, in crafting some new legislation pointed directly at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Apparently Fudge was so fed up about Dumbledore having so much trouble finding suitable professors for Defense Against the Dark Arts -- in Fudge’s words, “one of the core subjects for a developing witch or wizard’s education” -- that he decided that if Dumbledore couldn’t nominate a suitable successor, the Minister (and therefore he) would just have to do it himself. Carewyn truly detested the idea -- but under the circumstances, she knew if she was both going to prevent Fudge from causing too much damage and keep the job she loved so she could continue helping people, then she’d have to be involved in putting that idea into action. So she’d accepted the role of legal counsel for Fudge while he developed this plan...even while simultaneously offering covert assistance to Dumbledore’s organization, the Order of the Phoenix, by leaving enough wiggle room to legally challenge the legislation. 
One silver lining about having to work with Fudge, though, was that it gave Carewyn the chance to make contact with Percy Weasley, who had been appointed Junior Assistant to the Minister of Magic earlier that summer. Carewyn had to break ties with the Weasley family, including her best friend, Bill, so as to stay at an advantageous position within the Ministry -- an act Carewyn was loathe to put on, given how much she adored all of them like her own family. But not long later, third-eldest son Percy was promoted to the role of Junior Assistant at only 19 years old -- an act Carewyn immediately pinpointed as Fudge trying to keep tabs on the Weasleys, who’d always been loyal and close friends to Dumbledore -- and right afterward, rumors started flitting around the Ministry that Percy had severed ties with his family, all because they supposedly believed the “Boy Who Lied’s” rubbish about You-Know-Who returning. 
Carewyn’s heart hurt, just hearing the rumors. She knew Arthur and Molly had to be devastated over Percy’s departure -- Bill and Charlie undoubtedly would be too, once they found out. Bill in particular had always been so protective of all of his siblings: his greatest fear, from the time he was young, was any of his family being hurt. And with Voldemort really having returned, it was truly dangerous for Percy to be shoving his head in the sand at this particular moment. 
Someone’s got to look after Percy and make sure he’s okay, Carewyn decided at once. If the Weasleys can’t, then I will.
So when Percy stopped by Carewyn’s tiny office the following morning to fetch the legislation draft and notes she’d written for Fudge, Carewyn couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him.
“Hi, Percy,” she greeted him. 
Percy was very stiff-shouldered as he gave her a slightly forced smile and nod. 
“Good morning, Carewyn,” he said, his slightly pompous voice coming out a bit brusquely despite himself. “I’m here for the notes the Minister requested...”
“I figured,” said Carewyn. She took out a file and placed it in front of her on the desk. “It’s all right here -- I enclosed a letter of recommendations at the top, for the Minister to read over -- ”
“Much obliged,” Percy cut her off as he reached out to take the file from her. 
He seemed oddly evasive. Carewyn could sense he was trying not to look into her eyes too long, but when he did, slips of memory emerged.
“ -- swear, it feels like she can look right through you, at times...”
“ -- it’s called Legilimency -- ”
The first voice in Percy’s mind she didn’t recognize, but the second she immediately knew was Bill’s. The thought of her best friend made Carewyn’s heart hurt. 
“You haven’t had breakfast, have you?” she said abruptly, as Percy turned to leave. “I’m brewing some coffee.”
She indicated the modified Muggle coffee maker next to her desk. 
Percy’s eyes flitted over to it. For a split second, Carewyn could see his father’s face in Percy’s gaze. 
“Thank you,” the bespectacled young man said uncomfortably, “but I should really get this back to the Minister -- ”
“I’ll send it on ahead for you,” said Carewyn crisply. 
She raised her wand. In an instant, she’d transfigured the file in Percy’s hand into a Ministry-of-Magic-approved paper airplane, which she then Charmed to soar out of the room, out toward the Minister’s office. She then indicated the empty chair across the desk from her with a gentler expression.
“You should eat something,” she murmured. 
Percy looked up at her, startled. Carewyn could see Molly in his eyes, this time -- Bill too. 
The third eldest Weasley flushed darkly as he averted his eyes again, his gaze falling over to the coffeemaker and Belgian waffle iron on the side. 
“...I suppose,” he said stiffly. “But I can’t stay long -- there’s a great load of work to do...”
Carewyn nodded respectfully as Percy sat down. If there was one thing she and Percy had in common, it was their workaholic tendencies. 
Once Percy had sat down, Carewyn set about fetching some mugs from inside the cabinet hosting the coffee maker, as well as loading some stored batter into the modified waffle iron so it could cook. She could feel Percy’s eyes on her, but when she looked up, he quickly looked away again.
“ -- Muggles use these things to cook different kinds of food! Don’t entirely get why they choose to iron it, but Muggles are truly fascinating things, aren’t they?”
Carewyn’s eyes softened a bit, hearing Arthur’s voice in Percy’s thoughts.
“Jacob made these for me,” she attempted conversation.
Percy looked up, startled. “...Oh, ah...your brother?”
Carewyn could hear Charlie in Percy’s thoughts.
“ -- kind of a mad genius, really -- ”
“Her brother disappeared because of those Vaults, Perce -- Carey’s not going to just give up on them -- ”
“Yes. I’d mentioned how irritated I was that the cafe’s line’s always so long and that I didn’t have any electricity so I could plug in my own appliances...so Jacob ended up enchanting these so he could gift them to me for Christmas. He even made a stop at a Muggle shop out in San Francisco to pick me up the waffle iron...” 
Carewyn couldn’t keep the fond smile off her face. 
“...It’s been helpful, in keeping everyone fed,” she said amusedly. “Ben especially -- he’s always skipping meals. And Talbott, Tonks and I work such late nights, it’s nice to be able to brew a pick-me-up or two, to get through it all...”
Once the coffee was finished brewing, she poured out two mugs, one for Percy and one for herself.
“Would you like milk?” she asked. “Sugar?”
“Sugar, please,” said Percy. “Two lumps will do.”
Once Carewyn had fixed his cup properly, she offered it to Percy, who quietly thanked her as he brought the mug into his hands and took a sip. As he did so, he kept his eyes locked on the coffee as much as he could -- even so, Carewyn could just barely sense the clipped memories in his head: Bill standing over Carewyn’s shoulder, Charlie wrapping an arm around Carewyn and calling her his “twin”...even the twins laughing.
“She’s like Mum!”
“Only cooler!”
That’s what it is, then, Carewyn thought. He’s afraid his family’s told me about his departure.
Her red lips came together grimly as she looked down at and took a sip from her own cup, contemplating how best to approach the issue. Then, taking a deep breath, she decided to say very softly,
“...I heard about what happened.”
Percy avoided her gaze all the more even after raising his head. 
“...From Bill, I presume?” he muttered.
The thought of her best friend made Carewyn give the slightest, longing wince.
“...No,” she said softly. “We...aren’t speaking, right now.”
Carewyn felt Percy’s wide eyes on her without looking up. There was a long silence, before Percy finally spoke again.
“...I see.”
His voice was very solemn and yet also oddly soft: almost empathetic. 
Carewyn swallowed. She could surmise what Percy was probably thinking -- that they’d had a similar falling out -- and as much as she wanted to correct the record, she knew it would be counterproductive. She knew Percy was in denial about Voldemort being back just as much as Fudge was, and he was just as deathly loyal to the Ministry as the rest of his family was to Voldemort. If she told Percy the truth about her helping the Order or the true reason why she wasn’t in contact with Bill or the others, then he would undoubtedly tell Fudge, and everyone else would only be in more danger. And so, reluctantly, she let it lie. 
When she looked up, Percy was looking her in the face again -- it made it so that his emotions were suddenly much better for her to read, through his eyes. 
“He’s using you, Perce, can’t you see that?”
“ -- wants at Harry -- ”
“ -- know you don’t want to believe it -- none of us do...but You-Know-Who is back, Percy!”
“ -- only believes what he wants to see -- ”
“And what about you? Blindly marching lockstep with Dumbledore, all this time -- even after he let Bill go running off after the Cursed Vaults with Carewyn -- after he left him and Charlie around the likes of Patricia Rakepick -- !”
“Don’t you see, you’re nothing but a pawn Fudge is using to -- !”
“Nothing?! Nothing?! And what have you done with all your time at the Ministry, Dad?! Besides....besides chasing after airplanes and collecting rubbish Muggles chuck away!?”
“At least I’m trying to do something with my life! At least I’m trying to provide for everyone -- to be someone my family can actually be proud of!”
“Ah yes -- proud of. A Ministry brown-noser that bows and scrapes before the likes of weak men like Cornelius Fudge, just to advance himself -- ”
“You’ve NEVER understood me! None of you ever have!”
Arthur’s and Percy’s voices yelling at each other was a strange feeling, for Carewyn. Both of them were destructive like out-of-control, reckless flames, and yet it was oddly vulnerable: like a wounded lion lashing out when deeply hurt.
Carewyn’s eyes flooded with compassion, feeling Percy’s anger second-hand. Percy seemed to sense how much Carewyn was seeing -- before he looked down at his mug again, Carewyn once again could hear Bill.
“ -- it’s called Legilimency -- ”
“Suppose you read my mind, just now?” Percy asked with a dark smile. 
Carewyn shook her head.
“Thoughts aren’t something that can be read -- they’re not sentences in a book. I can only sense and feel someone’s emotions and memories.”
She paused. Then she reached out and took Percy’s hand. 
“...Percy...I’m sorry your father said that to you,” she murmured.
However right he was about You-Know-Who...and however much it is true that Fudge’s promotion of you was more selfishly motivated than you think...you’ve always worked so hard, to try to do well at the Ministry. Mr. Weasley must’ve known how much all of this means to you...
Percy’s eyes darkened. 
“He thinks I’m just thinking of myself,” he said lowly. “That I’m just running after glory for myself, and nothing else. But...”
His hand started to shake as he clenched his teeth, bowing his head.
“...But...but he’s always been the selfish one!” he burst out angrily. “Always running around, dawdling after Muggles...like his job’s nothing but a game! His was the only salary we’ve got to live on, since Mum’s always been at home -- sure, we want him to be happy, and yes, we’ve been able to manage...but we shouldn’t have HAD to just ‘manage!’ He should’ve been providing for us -- he should’ve been trying to climb the ladder, should’ve been looking for a job that could actually pay the bills, rather than make us constantly live on the edge...constantly have to buy things second-hand, constantly have to decline opportunities or make do with rubbish, just because we couldn’t afford better...constantly have to live with the stigma of being one of Arthur Weasley’s boys...”
Percy’s hand inside of Carewyn’s clenched into a fist. Carewyn gave Percy’s fist a gentle squeeze, but she didn’t speak: this was a time to listen, not to talk.
Exhaling heavily, Percy put down his mug of coffee down on the table, so as to protect it from his own temper.
“I wanted to attend the Slug Club party with you,” he mumbled self-consciously. “The one your brother was invited to, before you graduated.”
Carewyn blinked in surprise. 
“I’d heard all about the Slug Club from other students,” Percy explained earnestly. “About how Horace Slughorn’s only ever invited those he saw as the most up-and-coming witches and wizards to his events. I thought it’d be exciting to meet so many new, well-regarded people -- maybe talk to Barnabas Cuffe about what it’s like to work as a journalist for the Daily Prophet -- chat with some fascinating up-and-coming authors, before I read their work -- maybe even meet the Gwenog Jones -- tell her how much my little sister idolizes her...”
Carewyn’s eyes welled up with compassion.
“Percy, why didn’t you say anything?” she asked sadly. “Jacob and I would’ve loved to have you join us.”
Percy shook his head. "I was only fourteen. Slughorn would’ve had no reason to talk to me -- I hadn’t done anything that would set me apart as anything other than ‘one of Arthur Weasley’s boys.’ And I already knew I had nothing to wear that would be suitable.”
“Andre would’ve made you something to wear,” said Carewyn, but Percy shook his head again.
“I thought of that, but...at the time, I didn’t want to be treated like a charity case,” he said gloomily. “I was already so much younger than you, and...well, you’ve always been much closer with Bill and Charlie than me. Even Fred and George...”
“That doesn’t mean you wouldn’t have been welcome,” Carewyn said very firmly, giving Percy’s hand a squeeze. “I only went to that party because of Jacob, and Jacob only went out of a sense of feeling like he had to, after how worried Slughorn was about him all those years. I know Slughorn would’ve loved having another person there who was just as thrilled to be there as he was.”
Percy gave Carewyn a weak smile. Through his eyes, Carewyn could feel just how warm and comforting her sentiment was.
“...Thank you, Carewyn.”
He paused. Then, taking a breath, he took the plunge.
“It’s...it’s lovely that you went to a party you weren’t even interested in, just to support your brother,” he said quietly. “I don’t think any of my siblings would go with me, if I got invited to a Slug Club party...they’ve never been interested in such things...”
Carewyn frowned. “You don’t think Bill or Charlie would’ve supported you?”
Percy looked uncomfortable. “In sentiment, maybe, but...well, Bill and Charlie always spent the most time together, at home. They were always each other’s best friend, before they got to school and met you. And Fred and George of course always had each other...even Ron and Ginny ended up together most often, just because they were the smallest and always needed the most attention...”
“...Leaving you all by yourself,” Carewyn finished grimly.
Percy’s eyes darkened again. Carewyn could sense the remnants of a very lonely bespectacled boy hiding in a hollowed-out tree outside the Burrow, reading a book, coming off of him.
Carewyn’s eyes softened and she gave Percy’s hand another affectionate squeeze.
“I’m sorry, Percy,” she murmured. “It must’ve been really lonely for you sometimes...even with how close your family’s always been...”
Her eyes landed on their hands rather than Percy’s face as she tried to shut out the isolating memories rippling off of Percy.
“...My mum’s family was a lot worse than yours...but she was the black sheep there too...and she’s always said that you should never be lonely, when you’re in a family. Even when you’re physically alone...you should never have to feel alone.”
Percy looked up at Carewyn, his lips twitching into a weak, humorless smile.
“Your mother sounds like a very kind woman.”
He paused. Then, after a moment, he spoke a bit more bitterly.
“...I...don’t suppose Fred’s followed up with you about taking over my old room at the Burrow, now that I’ve left for good?”
Carewyn’s blue eyes welled up with pain.
“...Percy...”
She got up from her chair, extended both of her arms, and encircled him in a big hug. The taller ginger-haired man flinched ever-so-slightly, but almost immediately grabbed onto her in return, burying his face into her shoulder without ever getting up from his seat.
“He didn’t mean it like that,” Carewyn whispered in Percy’s ear. She found herself maternally stroking the younger boy’s hair like she sometimes would Charlie’s, when he was sad.
“I know,” Percy’s voice came out slightly muffled beside her shoulder. “...I know...”
Even so, Carewyn could tell how much that barbed joke had really hurt.
Percy’s arms adjusted a bit around Carewyn, giving her a slightly tighter squeeze before he finally released her. He brought a hand up under his glasses to covertly wipe at the tear that had formed in the corner of his right eye, clearing his throat loudly.
“Excuse me, I...lost my composure. Silly thing...”
“It’s not silly,” Carewyn shut him down sharply.
Softening at once again, she walked over to the waffle iron, which had started to beep. She opened it, levitating out the newly cooked waffle inside with her wand onto a plate before summoning some butter and strawberry compote out of a drawer.
“I realize this makes for a rather sweet breakfast,” said Carewyn as she set about buttering and then drizzling the compote over the waffle. “But...well, Mum used to say that sometimes something sweet in the morning can take off the edge of a bitter night’s sleep.”
Percy eyed the full plate of food and then the clock.
“It looks lovely, but...” he said uneasily, “...I really should be getting back to work...”
“Then take it with you,” said Carewyn. “You can always bring the plate and mug back to me, when you’re done with them.”
Percy’s eyes softened a bit behind his glasses as he picked up his half-full mug and got to his feet. “...All right.”
He accepted the plate from her in his other hand as he headed for the door. He paused in the door frame, looking back over his shoulder at her with a slightly warmer expression.
“...Carewyn...thank you for listening. I mean, you clearly have a full day of work yourself to contend with, and -- ”
“My work might be very important to me,” Carewyn said firmly, “but the only reason it is so important is because it lets me help people. And the people I care about I will always help first.”
Carewyn could imagine Bill standing over Percy’s left shoulder, smiling fully and handsomely as ever. It made her smile that bit more warmly at Percy.
“...My office door is always open, if you need anything,” she said gently.
Percy smiled and nodded, before turning on his heel and heading out of Carewyn’s office, taking another sip of coffee as he went.
Friendship Drabble Prompt!
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something about Draal reminds me of Arthur Weasley. this man absolutely asks his human visitors about the function of a rubber duck.
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hpcestfest · 2 years
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HP Cest Fest: Fic ☕️ 📖
Title: The Room is no longer Dark Author: ??? Prompt #: 46 Ships: Arthur Weasley/Bill Weasley/Charlie Weasley/Percy Weasley/Fred Weasley/George Weasley/Ron Weasley Rating: Explicit Wordcount: 5k Warnings/Tags: Father/Son Incest, Brother/Brother Incest, Minor Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Group Sex, Grieving, Molly Weasley is dead, Voyeurism, Somnophilia, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Double Penetration
Summary: Ever since Molly died things have not been the same. At least his sons are more than willing to help.
Read on AO3
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hollowed-theory-hall · 2 months
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Sirius Black was the best adult in Harry's life and I'm forever salty that we didn't get to see more of him
So, I love Sirius Black. He's a complex and interesting character that I love dearly. He's handsome, smart, brave, not as reckless as some fanon make him out to be, and above all else, he tried his best to be a good godfather to Harry.
I truly believe Sirius could've been an amazing father figure (more than he already was) to Harry if given the proper chance. And he's a much better parent to Harry than Arthur and Molly Weasley.
Here are some quotes along with my ramblings to prove it.
So, what I'm going to cover here are some quotes from Sirius and Harry that show their dynamic and how much Sirius cared and tried to be there for Harry. Also, I think Molyl and Hermione are wrong about Sirius seeing Harry as a James replacement.
“He came back to the country just because my scar twinged. He’ll probably come bursting right into the castle if I tell him someone’s entered me in the Triwizard Tournament —”
(GoF, page 290)
Harry wrote to Sirius at the beginning of GoF about his dream with Voldemort and his scar's reaction to it. Sirius left everything immediately to return to Britain — a place where he is hunted down and is a wanted man. All because he wants to be close to Harry, so he can spring up to protect him if the need arises.
Harry is correct in his assessment here.
“Poor old Snuffles,” said Ron, breathing deeply. “He must really like you, Harry. . . . Imagine having to live off rats.”
(GoF, page 534)
Ron is absolutely right. Sirius loves Harry more than pretty much anything. He would and does go incredibly far for Harry. I don't think Molly and Hermione are right about how Sirius sees Harry as James. He just doesn't.
He doesn't treat Harry as an equal to him, but as someone he needs to protect. Someone he is responsible to protect.
He stays around Hogwarts, eating rats in GoF so he can better protect Harry. He wouldn't have done the same with James because he treated James as an equal, not as someone he needed to protect.
“It’s not my fault you haven’t been told what the Order’s doing,” said Sirius calmly. “That’s your parents’ decision. Harry, on the other hand —” “It’s not down to you to decide what’s good for Harry!” said Mrs. Weasley sharply. Her normally kindly face looked dangerous. “You haven’t forgotten what Dumbledore said, I suppose?” “Which bit?” Sirius asked politely, but with an air as though readying himself for a fight. “The bit about not telling Harry more than he needs to know,” said Mrs. Weasley, placing a heavy emphasis on the last three words. Ron, Hermione, Fred, and George’s heads turned from Sirius to Mrs. Weasley as though following a tennis rally. Ginny was kneeling amid a pile of abandoned butterbeer corks, watching the conversation with her mouth slightly open. Lupin’s eyes were fixed on Sirius. “I don’t intend to tell him more than he needs to know, Molly,” said Sirius. “But as he was the one who saw Voldemort come back” (again, there was a collective shudder around the table at the name), “he has more right than most to —” “He’s not a member of the Order of the Phoenix!” said Mrs. Weasley. “He’s only fifteen and —” “— and he’s dealt with as much as most in the Order,” said Sirius, “and more than some —” “No one’s denying what he’s done!” said Mrs. Weasley, her voice rising, her fists trembling on the arms of her chair. “But he’s still —” “He’s not a child!” said Sirius impatiently. “He’s not an adult either!” said Mrs. Weasley, the color rising in her cheeks. “He’s not James, Sirius!” “I’m perfectly clear who he is, thanks, Molly,” said Sirius coldly. “I’m not sure you are!” said Mrs. Weasley. “Sometimes, the way you talk about him, it’s as though you think you’ve got your best friend back!” “What’s wrong with that?” said Harry. “What’s wrong, Harry, is that you are not your father, however much you might look like him!” said Mrs. Weasley, her eyes still boring into Sirius. “You are still at school and adults responsible for you should not forget it!” “Meaning I’m an irresponsible godfather?” demanded Sirius, his voice rising. “Meaning you’ve been known to act rashly, Sirius, which is why Dumbledore keeps reminding you to stay at home and —” “We’ll leave my instructions from Dumbledore out of this, if you please!” said Sirius loudly.
(OotP, page 88-89)
This above quote is a long one, but I love it. I mean, this shows a big contrast between Sirius' approach to parenting and Molly's. Sirius, while not seeing Harry as his equal, does see Harry as a capable wizard who deserves to know the full picture. Sirius knows Harry would be in more danger when ignorant and wants him as safe as possible. He thinks Harry deserves to know things that pertain to him, and I have to agree with him here. Keeping Harry in the dark is what eventually cost Sirius his life.
Molly, on the other hand, is intent on keeping Harry, Hermione, and her kids ignorant. She has the same intention as Sirius: to keep them safe. But she tries to keep them safe emotionally, even when this ignorance can and does place them in physical harm's way.
And Sirius is right. Harry is capable. And a 15-year-old shouldn't be treated the same as an 11-year-old child. And let's be real, Harry was never a regular child with how he grew up, and I think Sirius sees his maturity and treats him accordingly. Sirius actually gave Harry advice to not approach danger in GOF and Harry listened to him because Sirius treated him with respect, which works best with Harry who never really had parental figures.
“I don’t know,” said Sirius slowly, “I just don’t know . . . Karkaroff doesn’t strike me as the type who’d go back to Voldemort unless he knew Voldemort was powerful enough to protect him. But whoever put your name in that goblet did it for a reason, and I can’t help thinking the tournament would be a very good way to attack you and make it look like an accident.”
(GoF, page 334)
This is an expert from the Fireplace conversation Haryr had with Sirius before the first task. Sirius shares his theories with Harry because he needs him to know who to watch out for. Because everything he does is to keep Harry safe. And this is the same approach Sirius wishes he could take with Harry in OOTP. Because he knows it works. Keeping Harry informed means that if he does put himself in danger, at least he would inform Sirius about it; Which would allow Sirius to protect him.
I'm not copying all of them, but Sirius' letters to Harry throughout GOF are so caring and sweet. Harry deserved to have more of his godfather in his life:
Nice try, Harry. I'm back in the country and well hidden. I want you to keep me posted on everything that's going on at Hogwarts. Don't use Hedwig, keep changing owls, and don't worry about me, just watch out for yourself. Don't forget what I said about your scar. Sirius
(Gof, page 240)
This treatment encourages Harry to actually share everything with him and ask him for advice. Something he doesn't do with Dumbledore ever. (Harry actually doesn't like or trust Dumbledore all that much until book 6, it's usually Hermione who trusts Dumbledore fully)
“Sirius — how’re you doing?” ... “Never mind me, how are you?” said Sirius seriously.
(GoF, page 331)
Sirius again, shows his responsibility towards Harry's well-being over his own (both here and in the above letter).
Sirius is the only adult who actually talks to Harry about the Dursleys with sympathy:
“But if they do expel me,” said Harry, quietly, “can I come back here and live with you?” Sirius smiled sadly. “We’ll see.” “I’d feel a lot better about the hearing if I knew I didn’t have to go back to the Dursleys,” Harry pressed him. “They must be bad if you prefer this place,” said Sirius gloomily.
(OotP, page 116)
We know Sirius would love nothing more than for Harry to stay with him. He's lonely and bored at Grimmauld and would love to have Harry there. But at the same time, he doesn't want Harry expelled from Hogwarts and is trying not to be hopeful for it.
Sirius understands the Dursleys are awful, he just know the full scope, but it's more of a reaction than we get from most adults in this series. To me, it looks like Sirius is annoyed by how limited he is in helping Harry. He can't really do much about the Dursleys or their status as Harry's guardians.
“So you want me to say I’m not going to take part in the defense group?” he muttered finally. “Me? Certainly not!” said Sirius, looking surprised. “I think it’s an excellent idea!” “You do?” said Harry, his heart lifting. “Of course I do!” said Sirius. “D’you think your father and I would’ve lain down and taken orders from an old hag like Umbridge?” “But — last term all you did was tell me to be careful and not take risks —” “Last year all the evidence was that someone inside Hogwarts was trying to kill you, Harry!” said Sirius impatiently. “This year we know that there’s someone outside Hogwarts who’d like to kill us all, so I think learning to defend yourselves properly is a very good idea!” “And if we do get expelled?” Hermione asked, a quizzical look on her face. “Hermione, this whole thing was your idea!” said Harry, staring at her. “I know it was. . . . I just wondered what Sirius thought,” she said, shrugging. “Well, better expelled and able to defend yourselves than sitting safely in school without a clue,” said Sirius.
(OotP, page 371)
I love this scene as well. Sirius cares for Harry's safety first and foremost. Harry being safe is his top priority at every given point. And he's reasonable and logical and treats Harry like someone to protect, not like a friend.
Like, Harry when he has a problem and needs advice throughout books 4 and 5, he calls Sirius. He's Harry's go-to parental figure for advice, and Sirius takes his rule seriously. He gives the advice he honestly thinks is best and ensures Harry's safety and continued survival to the best of his ability.
“It matters because we don’t want to draw attention to the fact that Harry is having visions of things that are happening hundreds of miles away!” said Sirius angrily. “Have you any idea what the Ministry would make of that information?” Fred and George looked as though they could not care less what the Ministry made of anything. Ron was still white-faced and silent. Ginny said, “Somebody else could have told us. . . . We could have heard it somewhere other than Harry. . . .”
(OotP, pages 476-477)
Again, Harry's safety is Sirius' first priority above everyone else. Harry's happiness and privacy also take precedence over most other things. He doesn't want Harry under even more scrutiny from the ministry and the Wizarding World and protecting him from that is just as important to him.
To me, it feels like people who say he treats Harry like a James replacement didn't read the books....
“It must have been the aftermath of the vision, that’s all,” said Sirius. “You were still thinking of the dream or whatever it was and —” “It wasn’t that,” said Harry, shaking his head. “It was like something rose up inside me, like there’s a snake inside me —” “You need to sleep,” said Sirius firmly. “You’re going to have breakfast and then go upstairs to bed, and then you can go and see Arthur after lunch with the others. You’re in shock, Harry; you’re blaming yourself for something you only witnessed, and it’s lucky you did witness it or Arthur might have died. Just stop worrying. . . .” He clapped Harry on the shoulder and left the pantry, leaving Harry standing alone in the dark.
(OotP, pages 480-481)
And I love this too. How he tries to comfort Harry and make everything easier for him. When the rest of the Order were gossiping about how dangerous his connection to Voldemort is, Sirius is honestly trying to get Harry to worry about it less.
He might be lying here, but he is right about sending Harry to sleep after a sleepless night like they had. And he is right about Harry being in shock and needing the rest. I just, really like how much Sirius cares. Harry just doesn't have other adults in his life who care for him like Sirius does.
But some part of him realized, even as he fought to break free from Lupin, that Sirius had never kept him waiting before. . . . Sirius had risked everything, always, to see Harry, to help him. . . . If Sirius was not reappearing out of that archway when Harry was yelling for him as though his life depended on it, the only possible explanation was that he could not come back. . . . That he really was . . .
(OotP, page 808)
This. Scene. Just kills me.
Like, Harry understands how much Sirius cares about him, and how Sirius always puts him first. He knows the only way Sirius won't drop everything to come and when Harry calls for him is if he can't.
Because Sirius escaped Azkaban when he realized Harry might be in danger from Peter, not for his own safety, but for Harry’s. Sirius dropped everything and moved to live in a cave and eat rats when Harry's scar hurt. He stuck around Hogwarts and Hogsmead during the Triwizard Tournament, when it was crawling with ministry officials because Harry might need him. He was willing to do so much for Harry. And Harry knew this.
I think, given time, they could've had an amazing dynamic, and I wish we had more of Sirius and his care for Harry. That we saw more of his approach to parenting Harry.
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toorumlk · 1 month
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Hi I'm so freaking obsessed with your twitter.
Also what's your favorite Romione moment in the books and why?
ohohoho thank you, friend, i’m quite proud of some of the stuff i’ve posted on there B)
and as for my favourite romione moment in the books, when i read the question i first blanked out for a couple minutes, thinking of a bunch of smaller, sillier scenes. but then i remembered that i do have a favourite and it’s from chapter 11 of DH, when remus visited the trio at grimmauld place and filled them in on he goings on of the war -including the implementation of the muggle-born registry. ron’s response upon hearing this (after his immediate outrage) was
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and it’s not just the hand holding and the “‘you won’t have a choice’ said Ron fiercely” that played out so vividly in my head like this:
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but this scene demonstrates so perfectly the political weight of this pairing (muggleborn/blood traitor) which i think is the immovable narrative foundation of romione. all of their silly moments and idiosyncrasies aside, there is genuine narrative purpose behind this love. ron has always had an astute understanding of the blood supremacist politics of the wizarding world (need i remind that he was ready to curse shitco at the ripe age of 12 for calling hermione the in-universe slur) and just how wrong it is. ron is a pure-blood wizard and by design has so much privilege in this society bc of it, but by virtue of having parents like arthur and molly, he’s grown up knowing the importance of fighting against blood supremacist ideology. always.
so, after hearing about the completely horrifying muggleborn registry ("People won't let this happen," said Ron. "It is happening, Ron," said Lupin.), he immediately turns to his muggleborn best friend and love of his life and says “i’m making you a family member, i’m going to use the protection my family-name has and use it to protect you from the awful injustice of our situation, no you won’t have a choice but to let me help you”
i remember having such a… visceral reaction while reading this scene like holy shit .. these kids, THESE KIDS!!!!! this is the bone-marrow-deep love that makes me feel insane. this dynamic of the blood traitor/muggleborn always there, from CoS all the way to the epilogue. We get to see that romione is the story’s pure blood/muggleborn that finally made it (rip jily and tedromeda :(). we see it in hermione keeping her muggle last name after they get married (oh my god these two actually got married) and we also see it in the hyphenated Granger-Weasley (granger being first!) in their kids’ last names (oh my gof these two had TWO kids). they are a true symbol of change and progress in their world.
also this is one of those moments where i’m so glad that our only window to romiones relationship development is through harry’s narration because it so brilliantly shows the readers this blossoming love story instead of just telling us about it because harry obviously doesn’t have access to the inner thoughts of his two best friends, he can only witness them fall deeper in love. showing the audience acts of love is always more powerful and my god is this an act of showing your love to your beloved.
(and not to go on an unrelated tangent, but this is exactly why i could never ship my girl hermione w any DE or DE-adjacent character. no fucking way. not when the concept of a muggle-born registry exists in this universe, not when the antagonists in this story wish to eradicate people like her from their society. idk about the rest of y’all but im going to keep taking the narrative seriously bc the worldbuilding obviously has real world ties/implications and i like engaging with the canon. tangently to the tangent, i saw someone (a ron basher) on twitter say that ron, OUR RON FROM THE ABOVE EXCERPT, was “one bad day away from becoming a death eater” ohhhh ohhh i ought to beat you with sticks bc HUH? this is the same kid who said he would’ve boarded the train back to kings cross if he got sorted to slytherin, the house notorious for birthing DEs, at the tender age of 11)
anyways, all this to say is that romione is incredibly, realistically, materially romantic and i love them and i love their love <3
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kitty-tea · 4 months
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Like father, like son
Part 2 @xcinnamonmalfoyx
(Read part 1 part 3)
(Link to masterlist)
Summary: After the drastic event in you, James, and Harry’s lives, things aren’t the same, but that still doesn’t dull your attraction towards James. In fact, the more time you spend apart from him, the more you can’t stop thinking about him.
A/n: Hi welcome to part 2! This turned out to be way longer than I intended.
Pairing: dilf!James Potter x reader
NSFW 18+ only!
Word count: 5k
Tags/warnings: super long, porn with plot, sexual content, nsfw, masturbation, sex dream, pet names, age gap, reader is of age, James lives, death, angst, fluff, not canon complacent, slow burn, conflicting feelings, sexual frustration, guilt, James is a dilf
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The day came for you to say goodbye to Harry. It was also the day Molly and Arthur would pick you so you could move into their house during the school year since the older children had moved out and they could use an extra pair of hands around the house.
Before the train left, you, Harry, and his parents met up with Hermione and the Weasleys. You thought of how glad you were to see them again as you gave each one of them a hug. Ginny had grown taller, Ron had grown stronger, Hermione was still smart as ever, and the twins were still the same goofballs you had graduated with.
You thought it was unusual that Harry gave you an even bigger hug than he did to his parents.
“You alright there?” You asked him.
“I’ll miss you, you know.” He said. “It’ll be my first year without you.”
“Hey, what about us?!” Fred and George’s voices came from behind you, making you jump.
“He’ll get over it.” You turned to them and waved your hand in front of you. “And he was talking to me.” You rolled your eyes playfully.
“Sure he was.” You could practically hear the smirk in Fred’s voice.
“Who wouldn’t miss their big sister?” Same with George’s.
“Don’t you guys know you’re embarrassing him?” Hermione joined in on the conversation.
She was right. You looked in Harry’s direction, where you were greeted by his blushing face.
Why did it seem like they all knew something about Harry that you didn’t?
“Everything will be alright, Harry. We’ll write to each other.” You gave him a reassuring smile and rubbed his back in an attempt to soothe the redness in his cheeks, but that apparently only made it worse.
“I’m sure he’ll be writing to her more than to his parents.” You heard one of the twins whisper to the other one.
You had an easy time distracting yourself from the grief of your parent’s deaths and your forbidden attraction towards James. There was never a boring day in the Burrow. You were always doing something with Molly and Arthur whether it was training, helping out in the garden, cleaning and cooking, or helping the both of them host Order meetings in their house. Other times, you were writing back and forth to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. In his latest letter, Harry had written that he had become the captain of the Quidditch team, and Ron became the Keeper, both of whom you congratulated in your subsequent letters.
The Order meetings were something you dreaded as much as you looked forward to because it was when you’d be forced to be in the same room as James and Lily, whom you hoped wouldn’t suspect you of having a crush on her husband.
You weren’t expecting to embarrass yourself when you came downstairs wearing Percy’s old sleepwear. In the living room was every adult member of the Order you’ve met so far. Not every member showed up to every meeting, so this was a surprise for you.
You saw Remus and Tonks sharing a seat on an oversized armchair big enough to fit both of them while her parents were standing nearby, talking to them. The younger Tonks was the first person to see you as she gave you a goofy grin and waved at you. Next to the pair, the twins were standing next to each other in their own side conversation. Sirius, James, and Lily were at the dining table. Across the room, there was Mundungus Fletcher looking at a shelf of magical artifacts as if they were the most interesting things in the world, and Alastor Moody stood next to him, as if he were making sure he didn’t steal anything. You thought you saw Molly throw a disgusted look towards Fleur Delacour who was talking to Bill and Charlie.
“What’re you all doing here?” You asked groggily.
“Time for you to go back to bed, young lady.” You heard Sirius say.
“What’s going on?” You ignored him.
You then noticed everyone looking at each other back and forth, making you feel awkward.
“Make sure she doesn’t find out.” Tonks was whispering and you saw Remus and Sirius roll their eyes at her inability to keep her mouth shut.
“Find out about what?” You looked at Tonks straight in the eyes.
“Nice one, Tonks. Now she’s going to find out.” Fred elbowed her.
“At least it’s not us getting in trouble this time.” George whispered to his brother.
“Will someone tell me what’s happening?” You demanded the now silent crowd.
“It’s about Dumbledore.” Alastor Moody was the one to get straight to the point.
“We think there’s a plot to assassinate him.” Remus said reluctantly.
“You think?” You raised your eyebrows at him. “What evidence is there? Who brought this up?”
“We got a letter from one of the students.” Sirius said, looking towards his two companions at the table. “It was discovered that Draco Malfoy had been the one planning it. Voldemort had tasked him over the summer. There were other unsuccessful attempts-”
“What student?” You interrupted him.
“That’s not important.” James said.
“Harry followed Malfoy into the bathroom and interrogated him after he overheard Snape scolding him about how he was supposed to poison Dumbledore, not Ron.” As fast as Tonks had blurred out the story, everyone else glared at her.
“Oops.” She whispered meekly.
“You’re going to save Dumbledore right?” You asked everyone, making sure to look them all in the eye. They all gave each other that look that implied they were planning something that excluded you.
“We can’t let you come with us.” Arthur said.
“Why not?” You asked him.
He didn’t let any emotion show on his face.
“There will be Death Eaters trying to get into the school. If they see you, you’ll be in even more danger. They’re already looking for you.” With a deep breath he added, “Especially because they failed to find you and kill you after they did to your parents. Or worse… Make you join them. I’m so sorry.”
“You mean all this time they were looking for me?” You were shocked at Arthur’s revelation. “That’s why you kept shuffling me around different homes this past year. Because you were hiding me without me knowing.” It was all starting to make sense.
“Arthur, that’s enough you’ve upset her.” You must’ve looked like you were about to vomit because Molly came over to you and put an arm around your shoulder.
“Come on, Dear. Let’s get you upstairs. I’ll make you a cup of tea.” She said to you.
“I’m going.” You said boldly.
“No you are not.” James slammed his hand on the table as he stood up.
“If they’re looking for me, let them find me. I don’t want to hide. I want to be a part of something that makes a difference. Isn’t that what it means to be a member of the Order of the Phoenix?” You shrugged off Molly’s hand from your shoulder.
“Hogwarts Express leaves in two hours.” Moody said.
“Alastor! No!” Molly yelled in a threatening tone like she was dealing with the twins.
“She has a point. If she wants to prove she’s capable of handling herself, let her. I trust her.” You were thankful at least someone knew the right way to treat you like an adult.
You could tell no one in the room was happy with what Moody had to say even if he did have a point.
James couldn’t stop bouncing his leg against his seat. The countless possible outcomes of what could happen to you ran through his mind faster than the train was running. He felt Lily’s hand patting his thigh, as if trying to soothe him.
“I remember my first time riding this train.” She smiled, looking out at the mountains.
James scoffed. “So do I. That’s when I first met you. And Snivellus. You know we’ll see him right? He works there.”
“Come on, James. He’s changed just as much as you did.”
“From what Harry’s told us about him, I know he’s changed from a bitter teenage boy to a bitter teacher.”
“It’ll be alright, you don’t have to be overly friendly with him if you do see him.” James felt comforted as she put her hand on his.
The scenery zooming past the window did nothing to soothe the nauseous feeling inside your stomach that had been there since the morning. One thing you were grateful for was that you were alone in the compartment. You didn’t want anyone else to see you like this, all huddled up with your knees to your chest, looking like a nervous wreck. You didn’t want the others to regret their decision to bring you along. You were starting to second guess yourself. Maybe you should’ve listened to James and Arthur by staying at the Burrow.
You tapped your finger against the handle of your wand that was tucked into your boot. You then moved onto fiddling with the laces of your dress, (the one that Sirius dug out from his mother’s closet.) You had to busy yourself with anything to get your mind off your anxiety.
You were a Gryffindor. It was your job to be brave, you reminded yourself as you let yourself doze off.
You awoke to a knock on the window of your compartment door. You sat up and rubbed your eyes as the faces of Moody and Tonks came into focus.
You opened the door to let them in.
“Good evening, Sleepyhead.” Tonks greeted you, alerting you that it was in fact evening already and that you’d be arriving in Hogsmeade soon.
“Now, you listen to me.” Moody said, as he let his staff bang on the floor in front of him before he and Tonks took a seat in front of you. “I trust you enough to come with us. Tonks and I both think you’re ready.”
You looked at Tonks, who gave you one of her goofy smiles and a thumbs up.
“The problem is,” Moody continued with a frown. “The others underestimate you. They can’t keep coddling you.”
“Don’t worry.” Tonks gave you a reassuring smile. “I remember my first mission with the Order. I was just as nervous as you are.”
“Don’t, under any circumstances, separate from anyone in the group.” Moody said to you gruffly. “Are we clear? You can’t be seen alone by a Death Eater.”
“Yes sir.” You said.
As soon as all of you got off the train, you looked at each other, sensing a more sinister presence across the Black Lake looming over the school.
“They're here already.” Sirius said grimly.
“How? We know the teachers put up protection charms around the school to keep out the Death Eaters.” James said.
“I don’t know, James.” Sirius shrugged. “But we need to get there quickly.”
All of you then rushed to where the carriages were. You looked on sadly as you saw James sitting next to Lily with Remus and Sirius across from them.
You shivered in your dress as you got onto the carriage with Tonks and Moody.
“I know what you’re thinking…” Tonks caught you off guard when she winked at you.
“Excuse me?” You looked to Moody for clarification, but it seemed he was just as confused as you were.
“Don’t pretend like I don’t know what you’re thinking. I went through the same thing with Remus.”
Your eyes widened and you blushed as it then clicked in your brain what she meant. Moody looked on to the side of the carriage, completely ignoring you two.
“There’s no need to feel bad even though he’s married.”
“What?!” You loudly whispered as you covered your mouth. You looked at your two companions feeling embarrassed.
“Moody’s been around too long to not know how to keep secrets and ignore them.” Tonks said nonchalantly.
You felt disturbed that she was able to read you so openly. If she was able to do it, you’d hate to imagine what the others might pick up on from you.
“I know you.” Tonks went on. You wanted to tell her to shut up as much as you wanted her to keep talking. “You’re too innocent to want to hurt Lily. That’s why you’ve never said anything. Don’t be scared of your feelings as long as you don’t act on them.”
“Yeah, I won’t.” You scoffed, more to yourself.
“Then you haven’t got anything to worry about.” She said a little too cheerfully.
“Oh… thanks?” You didn’t know what else to say about her awkward, but well-intentioned attempt at giving you advice.
As you got to the school, your nerves didn’t calm down one bit. In fact, they seemed to multiply. Heeding Moody’s advice, you tried to stay as close to everyone, but you somehow found yourself alone in the familiar dark corridors. You lost track of time, trying your best to hide from any Death Eaters roaming the castle along with the screaming students running for their lives.
You thought you had lost everyone when you heard a voice softly call out your name.
You turned around to the sight of Harry running towards you. He was wearing jeans and a hoodie. You felt tears threaten to escape you. You were so glad you found someone you were familiar with amongst all this chaos.
“Harry, what is it?” You asked frantically.
“It’s Voldemort! He and the Death Eaters got into the castle and now they're battling with the Order in the Astronomy Tower!” He answered you just as frantically. He was also out of breath. “Dumbledore told me to run. And then, my parents told me to go and find you.”
“I’m so happy you’re alright.” You hugged Harry just as tightly as he hugged you. “Where are the other students?”
“Fred and George are helping the Prefects make sure everyone else gets to their common rooms.” He said.
“I have to go help your parents and the others!” You suddenly let go of him.
“Dad told me to get you to the Gryffindor common room where he thinks you’ll be safe.” Harry contradicted.
“I told your dad and the rest of the Order that I’m not hiding.” You contradicted him back. “I’m going to help. Are you coming with me?” You took out your wand from inside your boot.
Harry sighed. “Alright, then.”
Seeing as how Harry was almost as short as you, you had no trouble keeping up with each other’s footsteps as you ran through the castle and up the stairs to the Astronomy Tower. The first person whose eyes you caught were James’. He was in a duel with Professor Snape, who if you looked closely, was deflecting James’ attacks at the Death Eaters next to him. You knew Snape was a powerful wizard, so there was no way he’d do this unintentionally. It was strange to you, but you didn’t question it out loud.
“Kids! Get out of here!” James yelled at you and Harry, which made Snape turn his eyes towards you.
“I’m not leaving without a fight!” You yelled back through the sounds of other screaming wizards around you.
“Stop it! This isn’t the time to try to act like a brave little Gryffindor! You’ll only get hurt! Harry, I told you to make sure she gets to the common room with the other students!” James was out of breath as much as Snape was. You were just as thankful as you were confused as to why Snape didn’t try to attack you and Harry.
“No, Dad. She didn’t want to go. And I’m with her!” Harry exclaimed cofindently. “I’m not leaving without a fight either.” You both gave each other a nod.
For the first time since entering the tower, you took a full glance at your surroundings.
Tonks and her parents were fighting against two witches you recognized as Bellatrix Lestrange and her younger sister Narcissa Malfoy, who looked like she didn’t want to be there, with the eldest of the three sisters repeatedly throwing insults at the middle one, along the lines of “blood-traitor” or “mud-blood lover.” If it weren’t for the wands, it would’ve looked like a typical family argument.
You then saw Fleur, Bill, and Charlie try with their combined strengths to fend off the wolfish attacks of Fenrir Greyback, whom you knew as the one responsible for turning Remus into what he had become. If he was no weaker than three grown wizards combined, you’d hate to see what he’d be capable of in his full wolf form.
The two most powerful wizards in the room however, were Dumbledore and Voldemort, who instead of exchanging words and attacks, put all their energy into a clash of light, daring each other to let go and give into the exhaustion.
It was Dumbledore who gave in, as Voldemort’s blast hit him and sent him to the ground. Dumbledore may have been old, but his speed at getting up was rivaled to that of someone your age.
You saw Voldemort whip his head around to find a new target, you and Harry. He shot a non-verbal attack at you, and with you and Harry’s combined strengths, were able to block it.
You saw James let go of his mission of attacking Snape as he turned to the three of you, and before Voldemort could get a look at him, he pushed him to the ground.
“I told you two to get out!” James yelled angrily.
Using the strength of both hands, Voldemort grabbed James by the collar of his shirt, and tugged him off before pulled him up to eye-level.
“James Potter…” He sneered, as James clenched his teeth, keeping eye contact with him. “Just as weak as the day I tried to kill you all those years ago.”
James grabbed his wrist and pried them off of him, but not before spitting in his face.
“You are not scaring me!” He yelled over the sound of Voldemort’s cackling.
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Snape standing all alone, everyone else too distracted by fighting each other to notice him, but not you and Harry.
Snape aimed his wand at Dumbledore, and you heard the spell being used for the first time.
“Avada Kedavra.” He didn’t sound angry, just sad, like he knew he had to do this and was dreading it. You guessed that with all of Malfoy’s failed assassination attempts, Snape decided to take matters into his own hands.
Except it didn’t hit Dumbledore because Lily pushed him back to the ground, making the blast hit her instead.
The entire battle stopped, and everyone put down their wands.
“Lily! No!” James turned his attention to Lily from Voldemort, who looked like a child watching fireworks on New Year’s.
Harry was being held back by Remus from attempting to lung out at Snape and get himself hurt, you assumed. The only things that came out of Harry were tears and a scream, no words.
You heard Bellatrix’s cackle as she was the first Death Eater to fly away from the observation deck, not without a goodbye.
“Until next time, little sister!” Her maniacal laughter faded along with her. Narcissa pushed past her niece as she wordlessly sprinted down the stairs, probably to go find Draco.
After the other Death Eaters flew away, Voldemort disapparated along with his maniacal laughter that was deeper than Bellatrix’s. Snape was the only Death Eater who remained.
It was James who threw a punch at Snape, but all he did was stand there without a word, letting James use him as a punching bag a couple more times.
“I was right about you! You are still the same terrible person I went to school with! Lily tried convincing me you’ve changed! She was your friend! I can’t believe she ever chose to be your friend! You never deserved her in your life! You will never be worthy enough to have someone like her in your life!” With each sentence that ripped out of him, James’ punches towards Snape became more potent until there was a faint line of blood coming out of his mouth.
“Fight back, you coward!” Was the last thing James yelled before letting his fist drop to look at the forming bruises on his knuckles.
Dumbledore was silent as he came over to James, and put an arm around the crying man’s shoulders.
He gently pulled him away, and whispered, “I’ll apparate her body back to Godric’s Hollow. Make sure you and the others regroup at your home. I’ll meet you there.”
James held his head up, revealing his tears to everyone. He nodded at Dumbledore’s order.
There were bouquets of Lilies everywhere in James’ living room. The number of flowers had greatly outnumbered the people. He couldn’t have known that during the moment Lily was talking about her first train ride to Hogwarts, it would also be her last train ride to Hogwarts. It was like a twisted circle of life, is how James saw it.
Then there was you and Harry. You had lost two parents, gained multiple parental figures, and lost one of them in the span of a year. Harry had never seen someone die before, and it was even worse that the first death he witnessed was his own mother.
He saw you and Harry sitting on the couch together. Your arm was around his shoulder, and he was sobbing his heart out. People used to tell James that boys don’t cry and they should feel shame for showing such a vulnerable emotion in public, but at that moment, James felt proud of his son for having the courage to show his emotions in public, and proud of you for being a good supportive friend to his son.
The rest of the wake went by in a blur, the only other vivid thing James remembered being Dumbledore giving a small speech about Lily’s life before inviting whomever to give their own speeches about her.
This was the last day James would be in close proximity with you for a very long time.
Life went on, but you never stopped thinking about James. After saving up your money, Sirius helped you find a flat in London while Arthur was finally convinced to arrange for you to begin your training as an Auror under the mentorship of Kingsley Shacklebolt. Being as busy as you were, you stopped showing up to the Order meetings even though you received every invitation Arthur had sent you.
Although you were new in the Ministry, Kingsley still held you to the same standards and expectations as he did with the older employees. That only made you more eager to prove yourself which led to you being satisfied with the outcome of your hard work.
That didn’t mean you were any less grateful for the Potters, Weasleys, Sirius, and other members of the Order for helping to shape you into who you had become. You would never stop being grateful towards Lily for everything she had done for you over the past year you’d known each other. You felt that your gratefulness towards Lily and the sadness you felt for her death made you even more guilty of still having that same attraction you had towards James.
You still thought about him every night before you went to bed. Every time you thought about your memories with him while you were in bed, you would experience a dull ache between your thighs that didn’t go away unless you used your fingers, your hairbrush, or even your pillow to rub in that specific spot to relieve it.
Still wearing your camisole and your panties, you tried to drift off to sleep, but once again, your mind imagined that instead of you being by yourself, that James was next to you. It was summer which meant it was way too hot for you to put a blanket over yourself.
Your head started to feel hazy as your fingers traced over your lips, imagining a kiss with James. The knuckles of your other hand found themselves brushing from the back of your ear to your neck, where you remembered James had brushed a strand of your hair behind it during that training session.
There was no denying that jolt of pleasure that ran through you for a split second as his finger accidentally grazed along the seam of your shorts that covered your pussy. As if having your pussy lips being touched wasn’t enough, you had even felt the pressure of his finger on the sensitive little nub just above it. Just imagining his fingers being there again made that ache between your thighs burn even more.
You let your fingertips trail from your lips to your neck before going over the hardened peak of one of your nipples. You gasped at the pleasurable sensation you brought onto yourself. You continued to softly rub your finger over your nipple, then squeezing your breast, alternating between the two actions. The fingers of your other hand then went over the goosebumps covering your stomach before tracing over the lace trim of your panties. Your fingers were so close to circling over your clit and your inner lips which were so swollen from all the blood rushing to them that just the lightest pressure of anything against the thin material covering them would make you explode.
“Well, aren’t you a filthy little girl.” You suddenly heard a deep voice from the corner of the room, and you could see the shiny outline of a pair of glasses. You felt your cheeks reddening as you pulled your fingers away from yourself, embarrassed at being caught in such a private moment.
“James?” You gasped, sitting up, your hair falling to your face.
“You were thinking about me weren’t you?” His features started to morph into clarity.
“How…?” The next thing you knew, you looked down, and your camisole and panties were gone as you were laying down on your bed without anything to cover you.
You tried to move your limbs, but it was as if there was an invisible rope binding them onto your mattress. You looked up, and gasped to see James also wasn’t wearing anything either. He had taken his position in front of your bed, standing in front of it, and he was stroking himself. You were mesmerized by the way his hand slid up and down his hard shaft and the grunts that would come out of his mouth at every other stroke.
“Oh, James. I want your delicious cock! I can’t stop thinking about you!”
You were unable to control your mouth as you found yourself moaning those sentences out loud. You gasped, feeling mortified.
“Aww…” James frowned, feigning empathy. “You poor little slut. You couldn’t help yourself could you? Having all these filthy thoughts about me while I was married. You were a good girl, holding yourself back. But now you feel free don’t you? Free to take me? You’re ready to be a little slut.”
“Please! I’m sorry!” You couldn’t believe he would insinuate something like that. You had not once dared to feel happy about Lily’s death and claim James all for yourself. You would’ve hurt your friendship with Harry, and you would’ve been guilty of feeling like you were replacing his mother.
“You’ve been such a good little girl. Don’t you just want to give in?” James brushed his thumb over your bottom lip. It was as if there was something controlling you, making you unable to resist sucking on his thumb.
You looked into his eyes as he was smirking. He pulled out his thumb with a plop.
“I promise you, it’ll feel really good.” You shivered as he caressed your cheek. “I know that I’m hungry to feast on that delicious looking pussy you’re showing me.”
“Make me feel good, James!” You screamed, and you felt his warm tongue slide up along your inner lips before taking one of them in his mouth and sucking on it.
You released a loud moan that was straight out of those Muggle porno films you had found stashed in Sirius’ home that you watched without his knowledge.
His lips let go of your pussy before he moved onto your face. There, you found yourselves with your lips locked onto each other’s.
You didn’t understand what was happening as you felt like James’ lips were on every sensitive area of your body when his face was right in front of you. You felt a warm, wet sucking sensation on both of your nipples, making you arch your back and moan into his mouth.
Before you knew it, you felt his cock probing at your entrance. You stayed in your position, panting and moaning around him, overwhelmed and drunk on the pleasure he was feeding you. There was tension that started to build inside your core which began to build more and more pressure inside of you.
You were about to scream as you opened your eyes and were greeted by the sight of your bedroom which was empty of anybody else besides you. You were left with disappointment at the orgasm that died down inside of you with your waking breath.
You gasped at the familiar ache between your thighs accompanied by a warm wetness inside your panties.
If you couldn’t finish the job in your dream, you could at least do yourself a favor by doing whatever you could do to pleasure yourself.
You pushed the feeling of guilt that had come up in your dream to the back of your mind while your fingers found their way inside your panties.
You were so wet from your dream last night that it was easy for your finger to frantically slide up, down, and between your inner lips. You felt a wave of pleasure crash over you immediately as your middle finger applied the right amount of pressure on your clit while rubbing it. You came inside your panties while moaning and screaming James’ name.
As fast as your orgasm wore off, guilt took the place of pleasure. Tears started to form in your eyes at the realization of what you had done. Maybe you were the filthy slut that James from your dreams said you were.
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nightingale2004 · 3 months
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Severus Snape daughter headcanons
Slytherin all the way.
There was a debate with the sorting hat between Slytherin and Ravenclaw, but the hat landed on Slytherin
Severus taught her German and Russian
Has a pet cat
Was taught how to brew potions as a child
Skilled in occlumency and legilimens
Severus would've definitely taught her some fight moves he learned from Tobias to defend herself along with defense spells to protect herself if necessary (one of the rare good things Tobias did for Severus)
I feel his daughter would have a photographic memory
If his daughter was born before the war, then she would've met Regulus as a baby but didn't know a lot about him other than what Narcissa, Lucius, and her father told her (all good things)
Growing up, Severus didn't tell her a lot of his past, but every time she was in the Malfoy's care or Charity and Aurora's care, they would tell her all the embarrassing school stories of Severus (Severus would neither confirm or deny the stories) but they leave out the marauders of their stories (she knows about them, they always let it slip during their stories)
Educated in both the wizarding and muggle world
She definitely inherited the famous Severus glare and sharp tongue
Middle is Eileen, and Severus talks about his mother sometimes but not much
She would definitely be a bookworm
Similar to Severus, she would have an interest in potions and DADA
She and Draco would have definitely seen each other as siblings from their parents
I feel like she would be respectful and nice to house elves and would hate the abuse they face (she scolds her uncle Lucius about hurting Dobby every time she sees it)
Her and Hermione would have a school rivalry since they are both the smartest girls in their houses. But they respect each other and their intellect
If wolfstar had a child or children, then you can count on some bad blood between them (who knows... maybe an enemies to lovers)
Severus and McGonagall taught her how to dance (quite fabulously, if I may add 👌💃)
Sees Minerva as a grandmother figure (you can't tell me that McGonagall wouldn't lover her as her own)
If she had an Animagus form, it would be a cat or Raven
Her Patronus would be a bat or a cat
Has respect for the Weasley twins but will not hesitate to turn their pranks against them if it's aimed at her father, Draco, or herself
Likes Molly and Arthur but has notes on their parenting
She and Ron like playing wizard chess with each other (she beats him every time, and Ron always wants a rematch)
I feel like she would be a bit relatable to Stiles Stilinski (has ADHD, OCD, A LOT of sarcasm, and is stubborn. Wonder where she gets that from) "I mean no. Do you want to hear it in German? Nein". "I'm 140 pounds of pale skin and fragile bone, ok? Sarcasm and magic are my ONLY defense."
I feel like a lot of people would be afraid of her because she is Severus's daughter
She and Luna, I feel would get along because of her creative mind and unique way of seeing the world (she would also scare off Luna's bullies)
She makes her own spells, potions, and magical objects (mad scientist mode)
Not a big fan of quidditch but supports Draco
Brains of the operation
Hates Sirius on sight and is OK Remus.
She will not hesitate to hex or murder Sirius if he continues to insult her family (she is very difficult to restrain)
Feels like Harry's babysitter for always helping him survive on his adventures
She knows Remus when she was young due to his visits to her home to pick up his supply of wolfsbane from her father (so she knows he's a werewolf)
Often scold Draco if his insults go too far.
If her dad was a part of the death eaters and she was told, she would be shocked, upset, and angry but if he told her about the double agent part then she would be more worried for him
All I got so far. Enjoy my lovelies
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magicbystarlight · 17 days
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Before I Knew You - Part Eleven
Bill Weasley x Reader
Masterlist, Part One
Summary: You’ve spent years training under Madam Pomfrey in the hopes that you would join the Healers at St. Mungo’s at graduation. But in the aftermath of the death of Albus Dumbledore, you chose to join the Order instead. When you’re forced into hiding, you find yourself alone with Bill Weasley and his new wolfish tendencies.
Word Count: 3k
Warnings: 18+, typical canon warnings, smut, age gap, oral sex (fem recieving), delayed orgasm, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, rough sex, cum eating (kinda?), allusions to knotting, angst. Minors DNI.
A/N: This would not have been written without you, Lovely 💛
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There was a lot of arguing. The younger siblings demanded answers. Their parents tried to give none. Bill countered that they should know. That it was in everyone’s best interest to be prepared in case they too were interrogated. Fred suggested moving you. He flinched at the growling disagreement from Bill. Molly tried to argue he may be right, but George said Yaxley could be hoping for that. Fear causes people to make mistakes, he argued. 
“What exactly did he ask?” The table fell silent, looking towards you. But you were only looking at Arthur.
“Much the same as his father had asked at the wedding. Why you’d been there, where you’d been before, where you went after. He asked that if I heard anything about or from you, to tell him. Only him. And if I saw you," he looked at Bill who nodded for him to continue, "to tell you that he has someplace safe.”
The table erupted again with words like delusion and trap thrown around. 
"He's going to the twins next." The commotion died once more, all eyes on you.
"How do you know?"
"Because I know Cillian." No. That wasn't right. The Cillian you knew wasn't a murderer. "At least, I know he was jealous of them back in school. Thought one of them had a thing for me." You'd nearly forgotten that. You looked between Fred and George. "He'll be more aggressive with you because of it."
Fred winked. "Don't worry 'bout us, love—
—we can handle him," George finished.
Bill's fist slammed on the table, making Ginny flinch. "This isn't a fucking joke!"
"But they need to act like it is," you countered. You kept your eyes on the twins. They needed to be prepared. They needed to know. "You've got to be as combative with him as he will be with you. Make it clear you have no intention to cooperate with him. If you act any differently it'll look suspicious to him."
Molly tapped her wand against the table, all the dishes lifting from the table. They flew to the kitchen, scraping themselves into the trash before settling into the sink. She followed them, waving her wand. Water and soap filled the sink. You’d forgotten magic could be used for something as mundane as dishes.
“That’s good to know,” George said, trying to ignore the uncertainty that had settled over the table with Molly’s abrupt end to dinner. Half the plates still had food.
“What if he brings his father?” Ginny asked.
“He won’t. Cillian has to be going behind his back trying to find me. Corbin wants me dead.”
Plates clattered in the kitchen. The Weasleys shared looks with each other.
Molly stood clutching the counter, staring out the window. "We should have all gone into hiding when we had a chance." Arthur came to her side and she allowed herself to be brought into his arms, burying her face in his chest. It hurt to see.
Ginny’s final day had been ruined. At least she’d be safe from Cillian’s questioning at Hogwarts. It would be too risky for him to go there. Even with Fred and George he’d have to be careful. Eyes would be everywhere in Diagon Alley with someone reporting back to someone who could report back to his father of his activities. That was if he wasn’t already being followed.
They left shortly after. Molly’s hug was a bit tighter than comfortable when she promised everything would be alright. Fred said he’d stop by again soon. Ginny said nothing, but squeezed your hand with watery eyes. You didn’t go outside to see them off, but as you looked at the clean kitchen you wish you had. There was nothing there to keep your hands busy. Magic had cleaned the dishes and put them in their place. It had wiped the counters. Swept the floors. Even the chairs had been pushed in. 
One pop. Then another. And then the door, steps, a hand on your shoulder. "I'm sorry. I should have told you earlier."
"Ginny got to enjoy most of her day. I wouldn't have been much fun if you'd told me before.” His hand fell off as you shrugged. “Besides, it’s better that they all know. So they’re prepared.”
“You really think he’s gonna go after them?”
“Cillian was jealous a lot.” Another thing you’d nearly forgotten. “I’ll be surprised if he doesn’t try to track down every guy that’s ever spoken to me.” Not the women though. He didn’t think Cho had counted. You turned and rested your head against his chest, his embrace welcome. The tension eased in your body.
“It’ll be okay,” he promises, “they’ll be okay.”
Bill left early the next morning to see Ginny off, reluctantly leaving you in bed with a kiss and a promise to not to be gone long. You stayed in bed for a bit, but sleep never returned. 
The sun rose higher in the sky as you worked out in the garden. Molly had brought the wolfsbane stored in the Burrow’s shed, miscellaneous potion ingredients that had been collected from various Order members, and any seeds she could spare the day before. Professor Sprout’s lectures echoed through your mind as you planted new seeds and replanted old plants into neat lines. You’d have to figure out how to build a greenhouse for some of the more difficult plants. There was plenty of sand to make glass.
When all that could be done in the small garden was done, it was still a quarter till ten. How you missed the hours it would take on the farm.
Your hair was your next task. That would take time. Washing, brushing, using your favorite hair potion Ginny had been thoughtful enough to bring. You considered styling it without the aid of magic to pass the time, but decided against it.
As your hair righted itself, your thoughts drifted back to the wolfsbane. Maybe if you could get in contact with Charlie, he could get some dragon blood. And maybe Hagrid could get some Occamy eggs. The rest would be easy enough to get your hands on. Then you could finally get a real attempt at the Wolfsbane Potion for Remus. 
Until then, you had other things you needed to start working on. Potions and salves to make now that you had the ingredients. 
That was how Bill found you a while later. Bent over a cauldron on the stove, hair covered to protect it from the steam of the Murtlap Essence. “Mum made treacle tart,” he said, sliding a pastry box on the counter. “And brownies.” Another box. “And some biscuits.” A third box. “She bakes a lot when she’s worried. I don’t think she slept at all.”
Your shoulders deflated. She’d have been worried anyway, with Ginny off to Hogwarts, but with the threat of Cillian hanging over her sons it must be so much worse.
“She wanted to know if she can drop by a couple times a week while I’m at work.”
“Why?”
“She wants to make sure you're doing alright. Thinks you have to be lonely here. She won’t say it, but she’s gonna be lonely too now that Ginny’s gone.” His arm slid around your waist. “I told Fred and George they should come by sometimes too.”
Your gaze snapped to his face, surprised. “Why?”
“Because you need a life outside of me. And I know my family isn’t really that, but I’ll see if I can get the other Order members to come by. Get them checked up and all that.”
“Do you really think that’s the greatest idea? You could barely stand having Kingsley here. Thought you were gonna tear Fred’s head off yesterday.”
“I’ll still get you to myself at night, right?”
“Yeah but,” you tried to explain, “are you sure you’re up for that? If it could make your symptoms worse, especially with the full moon coming, then mayb—“
His kiss cut you off.
“Like I said,” he breathed against your lips, “I’ll have you to myself at night. That’s enough.”
“But everything with Cillian, is it really safe?”
“It’s safer, I think, than you being here alone all the time. And we’ll come up with a plan in case something goes wrong. Practice some defensive spells, figure out a place to go.”
You kissed him softly. “Thank you.” 
“Oh don’t thank me,” he said, his teasing tone setting in, “it’s about time you started pulling your weight. Can’t have you lounge on the beach all day in some provocative little swimsuit, can we?”
You scoffed. “It was not provocative!”
“Have to disagree with you there, love.” His nose brushed against your cheek. “Everything you wear is provocative.”
“Guess I’ll stop wearing anything then.”
His groan had you smiling. “Please tell me you’re nearly done,” he begged.
“It’s gotta simmer for another couple hours,” he groaned again, “but it’ll be fine on its own fo—OH! Bill!”
It seemed he was determined to make it a habit of throwing you over his shoulder. Only this time he bypassed the couch and kicked the door to the bedroom open. You bounced against the mattress, giggling as you removed the hair covering. He was eager, giddy even, as he pulled off his clothes. He crawled up the bed, smiling into a messy kiss before helping to remove your own. 
His lips trailed down your neck. Teeth and tongue teased your collarbone. Your fingers tangled in his hair as his mouth found your breasts. A soft moan slipped out. He alternated between them, nipping and licking until you were squirming. When you asked him to stop teasing, he nuzzled into your neck and laughed. "I've got the patience today, love."
It clicked what he meant a moment before he slid down. Your groan turned high and breathless as his tongue glided between your folds. "Oh fuck," you gasped, hips jumping. His hand held you in place. You whimpered. This wasn't fair. His tongue traced a lazy pattern that had your legs shaking. You wanted to grab him and pull him closer. But he was unmoving. The pleasure was agonizing. He would go faster then slower. Fast, then slow. You felt the edge creeping closer and then he'd pull back and nip at the softness of your thighs.
He was merciless. He was enjoying himself. His groans were sinful, his hands greedy as the touched every part of you but the place you needed them most, his pace never slowing.
"Please," you begged, voice cracking.
Bill chuckled. "Please, what, love?" he asked, the vibrations shooting up your spine.
"Please stop teasing me. Please, let me cum. Please."
"So desperate for me, eh?" His fingers pushed into you. Rubbing and searching until they curled against a spot that had you seeing white. He hummed in delight, letting his tongue flick over your clit. The knot in your stomach snapped, his name falling from your lips over and over.
He didn't stop or slow as the high faded.  
"Bill," you cried. It was too much. You pushed at his head, trying to get away from the touch. You were too sensitive. His arm wrapped around your thigh and pulled you closer.
"One more, love."
"No, no, I can't. Bill, I can't."
"One more, love. Just one more," he promised. His hand was relentless. Fingers working that same spot. Your muscles tensed. His lips wrapped around your clit and sucked. Your vision blurred. The pleasure too intense, body locked and trembling. It was euphoric. When the spasming finally subsided you gulped down air.
Bill crawled back up, smiling proudly. "Beautiful," he said. The taste of you clung to his lips as he kissed you again. Your arms looped around his neck. You wanted more. Needed more. You pulled him closer. He settled between your legs. The head of his cock teased your entrance, making you jolt. Still sensitive. You whimpered into his mouth.
"Too much?" he asked, concerned.
Your legs wrapped around his and encouraged his hips forward. "Not enough."
His nose bumped against yours. "Godric, I love you."
He slid inside, inch by inch. Slowly. Your bodies pressed flush together. A gasp escaped when his hips finally met yours. His head fell to the crook of your neck, and he stilled for a moment, taking deep breaths. Then his hips pulled back and he began a slow pace. It was gentle. His lips caressing every part of your skin they could reach. Your hands trailed down his back. The pleasure built slowly until your climax hit again. 
He kissed your jaw. "More?" he whispered.
"More."
The pace picked up. Slow became steady. You whimpered as he continued to fill you.
"So perfect," he groaned.
His hips stuttered and picked up speed. You could feel another orgasm approaching. You dug your nails into his skin, holding on tight. His breathing grew heavy, his kisses messy and wet. His hips slammed against yours and you tumbled over the edge crying his name. He followed, burying his face in your neck as his hips slowed and came to a stop.
Bill collapsed beside you and pulled you close. "Think you could go for five?" he panted. You swatted his chest. He laughed and kissed your hair. You didn't want to move. Your eyes were drooping in exhaustion when you realized you had to.
"The dittany," you sighed, reluctantly pulling away from him. You went to stand, but your legs wobbled.
"I'll get it," Bill laughed, guiding you back down. He left with a kiss, not bothering to slip anything on. He's not gone long and he didn't come back empty handed. He was gentle with the warm washcloth as he wiped up his spend that had seeped out of you. But you were still sensitive. And vocal. A wicked gleam in his eyes warned you it wasn't over.
"What are you—" your words cut off in a sharp cry as his tongue dragged across your cunt again.
"Cleaning up my mess" he said before diving back in. He was thorough, tongue sliding inside you and swirling around. You were exhausted and sure you couldn't give him what he wanted, but he wasn't deterred.
He licked and nipped and sucked. His name fell from your lips.
"Please," you sobbed.
He pulled back, wiping his chin. "Please what?"
"I can't. Please."
He hummed, considering, and dove back in. You gripped the sheets, withering under him. He was relentless. It was overwhelming. Every muscle tensed, the knot in your stomach coiling tight. You cried out. It was blissful torture. Your toes curled. Your legs shook. The orgasm hit like a tidal wave. You whimpered as his tongue eased you down.
When he was satisfied, he pulled back. "Six?"
"Don't you fucking dare." There was no ire in your tone.
"Need me to grab you anything?" he offered with a sly grin. "Since you can't walk?"
"Shut up." You threw a pillow at him. He laughed, dodging the assault.
"Be back in a minute."
He was true to his word, returning with two glasses of water, the box of treacle tart, and a fork. He handed you a glass and climbed in bed next to you. He left another kiss against your forehead. It felt normal. As if you'd been together for years. As if you were together. He offered you the first bite of the tart. A part of you ached. 
Molly came the next morning after Bill had left for work. She was so different from your mother, yet so much the same. They both had to keep busy when things were stressful. Something to do to keep their mind clear. Your father wasn’t like that. He liked to sit and think and plan. 
She left not long after Bill returned home. You worried she’d noticed the way Bill nearly greeted you with a kiss. But she said nothing about it. You’re not sure if that made you feel better or worse.
Tonks popped in for only an hour the day after. Her conversation stayed far from werewolves or the upcoming full moon. It’s only as she was preparing to leave she asked, “Think we’ll see Bill anytime soon?”
“I don’t think so.”
She didn’t comment more on it. She knew. You felt a prickle of annoyance after her departure. She knew and said nothing. Not before, not when Bill was struggling, not now. Next time you’d ask for—no, demand answers. It was only fair. For Bill’s health.
You’re alone the two days leading up to the full moon. Bill was insatiable. You woke up the morning of with Bill’s rushed pleas in your ear.
“Need you, love. Please.”
It’s different. Less controlled. Like he’d been starved and presented a buffet. He’s desperate. “Cum for me, please. Need to, fuck love, need to feel you squeeze me, please, please, please.” You complied happily. 
You paced the living room. He was supposed to be home an hour before. You didn’t question him when he finally appeared. With the way he kissed you, it couldn’t have been anyone else.
He was rough. His hands bruising, possessive.
You don't remember making it to the bed or removing your clothes, but your there under him. His mouth is on your skin, biting and sucking. There would be bruises tomorrow. He buried himself inside you without resistance. The sound you let out was embarrassing. It only encouraged him. He fucked into you harder, his hand sliding between your bodies.
It's verging on painful. "Bill," you moaned, clawing at his shoulders. You don't want him to stop. His fingers circled your clit.
"Need you to cum," he groaned. His lips found yours again. His fingers worked faster. "I can't" he cut himself off with a growl, "can't hold back. Fuck, please cum." Your back arched and nails dug into his skin. He cursed. You cried, clenching around him. His hips slammed against yours once more, and then he stilled.
But something was wrong.
There was more pressure than there should be. You can't focus on it. Your eyes were too heavy. "Bill?" It came out groggy. His weight crashed into you. You were barely able to adjust him to allow yourself to breathe before you slipped into unconsciousness.
Author's Note: He said "I love you" and our girl assumed he meant in the friendly "Wow, you're so awesome and cool!" kinda way and not in the "In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you." kinda way. He's definitely having his own internal freakout about her nonresponse to it.
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mirrorofliterature · 2 years
Text
*me characterising oliver’s parents as decent to counterbalance the absolutely terrible light I portray arthur and molly in* all is right in the world.
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george-weasleys-girl · 9 months
Note
YULE TIDE REQUEST COMING IN HOT BC ITS COLD
Could you write something where the Weasleys are heading to spend Christmas at the order after Mr Weasleys attack (so could be a bit angsty to start), and on their arrival they find Y/N there with Sirus, her Dad and her Uncle Moony, telling her and the trio how they set up the old order back in the day and reader talks about setting up a new one, but the twins (Fred is her bf) didn't know who her family was as she kept it secret, all these years, even more so as Lupin teaches them all Defence Against The Dark Arts. Maybe a bit of akwardness at first when she explains why she couldn't tell them (rumours going around the magic world etc), but cute fluff after when they continue discussing the order, open presents etc. I need cute fluff 🥰
❄️Yuletide Celebration❄️
Fancy Meeting You Here
I goofed and posted this early.🤦‍♀️My only other option was to delete it. So, here it is. Merry Really, Early Christmas! 🎁
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Fred Weasley x Fem!reader
~•~
"It seems there was some rather unusual kind of poison in that snake’s fangs that keep wounds open," Arthur had explained. "They’re sure they’ll find an antidote. Though, they say they’ve had much worse cases than mine, and in the meantime, I just have to keep taking a Blood-Replenishing Potion every hour."
It was touch and go for a while, but you'd never know it talking to the Weasley patriarch. Despite excruciating pain and losing half his body weight in blood every day, Arthur had remained in high spirits throughout the whole ordeal.
Fred wished he could say the same for himself. Oh sure, he played it off well enough, making jokes and being silly, but truthfully, it had scared him. The knowledge that his dad could've died had shaken him to his very core, and he had no idea how to handle that.
He was certain things would've been better if his girlfriend was by his side. But, sadly, her parents had insisted she come home for the holidays, leaving him to muddle through on his own.
~•~
"Y/N!" Fred ran toward, picking her up in his arms and twirling her around. "I can't believe you're here!" He exclaimed before a confused look settled on his face. "Wait... why are you here?"
His girlfriend gave him a sheepish grin. "There's something I need to tell you."
Fred sat back, stunned. "Sirius is your dad?"
"Sirius Black?" George echoed.
"Yes, Sirius Black is my father." Y/N confirmed.
"But, how?" Fred blistered.
"Well, you see, when a man and a woman - " George began.
"Shut up, George," Fred cut his eyes over at his twin. "I know how," he looked back at Y/N. "But, you know... how?"
Y/N had to stifle a grin. "It's a long story, but suffice it to say, my mum isn't in the picture. My Uncle Mooney took care of me while dad was in Azkaban."
"Wow... " George marveled.
"Why did you tell me?" Fred asked.
"I had to keep it secret. Dad's on the run. Death Eaters are everywhere, and we're starting the Order back up."
"The order?" Her boyfriend looked excited at the prospect. "The Order of the Phoenix?"
"Yep," she confirmed. "With Death Eaters crawling out of the woodwork again, not to mention the possibility that Voldy could come back if he hasn't already, they thought it be a good idea to revive it. And Grimmauld Place will be the headquarters this time around."
"Wicked," Fred replied. "So, my girlfriend is in league with infamous Order of the Phoenix."
Y/N laughed. "I don't know if I'd go so far as to say that. But, yeah, kinda."
"Well," George clapped his hands on his lap and stood. "That's all I need to know right now to know this is going to be an awesome Christmas." He looked at Y/N. "Just a suggestion. You might wanna wait until Harry gets here to get into the fine details. That way, you don't have to tell it twice."
Y/N nodded. "Yeah, good idea."
George grinned. "Well, I'm gonna go find something to eat and let you two catch up."
Once George was gone, Y/N scooted closer to Fred. "I'm glad we get to spend Christmas together after all."
"Me too," he smiled. "It's been a rough couple of weeks."
"I'm really glad to see you're dad's doing better. I was really worried about him."
"So, was I," Fred admitted, his cheeks growing hot. "I - I really missed you being there with me."
Y/N smiled, pretending she didn't notice the lovely blush rise up across his cheeks and pulled him closer. "Well, I'm here with you now."
"I'm glad," Fred gave a small grin and looked down, trying to hide the stubborn crimson that'd taken up residence on his face.
"But, you know," Y/N continued. "You're failing in your duties as a good boyfriend."
"What?" Fred looked up, eyes wide.
"You've been here for a whole half hour, and you haven't kissed me once."
"Oh dear, you're right," he sat up straight, and his usual, confident cockiness came roaring back. "I must do something about that immediately."
~•~
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greenerteacups · 2 months
Note
The great hormonal storms in book 5 lead me to this ask: let's talk about sex. Or at least sex ed. Does Hogwarts have it (at least in LH'verse)? Is that a nurse duty or a Head of House one? Did Narcissa sit her baby boy down for The Talk, at least to impart how Miss Granger would return to her parents in the same state she left them or at least unimpregnated? Did she outsource that task to Uncle Severus? Did Ron share what his older brothers passed down? What does our favorite victorian-in-spirit know abt sex beyond "lie back and think of the bloodline" and his hormonal daydreams?
I'm l o s i n g it at the idea of Narcissa instructing Draco to leave Hermione "unimpregnated," which, I just — I think the minute she uses those things in the same sentence, Draco hits the road at the speed of Mach Christ. He's gone. He's not here. He's not in the building. Can't have the Sex Talk if you can't fucking catch me, Mom. (For the record, I can fully see Narcissa trying. She's much less prudish than Draco is — gossips about adultery with her 11-y/o son on Christmas morning, references Ye Olde Wilde Times with Lucius, cracks the occasional bawdy joke, etc. — she just doesn't often see the need to discuss it, being aware that Draco, as far as she knows, remains an un-Awakened little Victorian. The Great Granger Debacle of 1995 is likely raising her suspicions there.) That said, Draco knows what sex is; for some reason my mind gravitates to the slightly handwavey answer of "boy's dormitory." I'm picturing him in his four-poster, curtains drawn, pretending to be asleep, while Ron and Harry have a free-ranging, horrifically creative conversation about what Ron thinks sex is (courtesy of the twins). Optimistically, Neville hops in with corrections from Augusta Longbottom's sexual etiquette seminars. Either way, Draco never, ever reveals that he has heard this conversation.
Or, alternatively, he and Theo have a really intense heart-to-heart during that summer before third year, which would do a lot to explain why the two of them are so weird about each other basically for the rest of time. (Raising the question of where Theo/Pansy/Daphne learned it. At age 12, Pansy got an excruciatingly detailed Talk from her mother, who was scared to death of a teen pregnancy pitching their family into ruin; Pansy, deciding it was unfair she had to suffer this and Theo did not, inflicted said Talk on Theo, who was just relieved that he didn't have to ask Sibelius. And Daphne grew up around so many healers that she just badgered them until someone gave in and told her. She's also a stated connoisseur of trashy romance novels, so. Make of that what you will.)
I think that Hogwarts, being modeled in mores and general Vibe from old English boarding schools, probably is not the most forward-thinking with sex ed. I also do believe Severus Snape would sooner jump off a bridge, and I kind of need him for the plot, so I've got to spare him that grave and important duty. Poppy Pomfrey probably gets the question the most of any staff member, and over the years, I think she's honed her answer down to a tight 3 minute-monologue that covers all major topics.
Odds and ends in the same vein:
Hermione gets a sit-down with the Drs. Granger the summer before her thirteenth birthday, so sometime in August, 1992. It is meticulously explained and flawlessly presented, with color-coded diagrams, an index, and a syllabus. It includes a diagnostic chart for common STIs and a spreadsheet on birth control options. Dr. Granger gets excited after a tangent about ovarian cysts and runs to pull out her old copy of Grey's. Hermione spends the whole time fully miserable, wondering why parents couldn't be like, greengrocers or something. (That doesn't stop her from asking questions, obviously.)
Ron, like all Weasley men of his generation, gets a knock on his door sometime around his 14th birthday, and Arthur invites him to "go fishing." This is code for "stand by the river and try to keep a will to live while your dad explains the mechanics of sex, its importance, and the value of waiting until you feel comfortable and safe sharing that level of intimacy with a trusted partner" (sic).
Fred and George got separate talks, because Arthur wanted to emphasize that he sees them as individuals; however, Fred ran back and immediately recounted it all to George, who proceeded to feign extraordinary expertise in it the next morning, to his father's horror.
Ginny's "go fishing" equivalent is Molly taking her out for tea and delivering a well-meant but incoherent combination of abstinence-only sex ed, aggressive body positivity, and highly technical discussions of how to insert a diaphragm. Ginny, who bullied the real story out of Bill years ago, is baffled, and to this day can't say for sure what she was supposed to take away from it.
Harry spends his 14th birthday at the Burrow. Ron and his brothers make a blood pact in advance not to tell him about it, though, so when Arthur invites him out for the day on August 1st, his sole thought is: oh, nice! Can't wait for some fun fishing :)
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fanficimagery · 2 years
Text
Taming the Dragon Tamer
Charlie returns to the Burrow for a short vacation only to find a new family has moved in just across the field from the Burrow.
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Words: 5.9K Author's Note: Don't pay attention to movie release dates. Just go with the flow.
When Charlie was instructed to take some time off of work, he was annoyed but also a little grateful. He absolutely loved his job on the Dragon Reserve, but as of late he'd been missing his family a little more than usual. The higher-ups noticed his lack of energy and told him to take a break so as to not let his guard down and risk getting hurt while on the job.
The portkey he applied for has the destination set for the field just behind his childhood home, and when he lands with a grunt, he's left staring at a cluster of homes rather than the Burrow.
Brow furrowing, Charlie glances around to make sure he's actually in the right place. And when he turns around, he lets loose a little exhale of relief at the fact that he'd just been turned around. Then hiking the strap of his knapsack a little higher on his right shoulder, Charlie sets off towards the Burrow.
There's smoke billowing from the chimney and he can see his mother bustling about the kitchen through the window. He allows himself to smile, knocking on the back door before letting himself in. And when he sets sight on his mother, he chuckles at her gaping expression before her eyes sparkle and her liveliness immediately returns.
"Charlie!"
"Hi, mum."
"What are you doing home?" She rushes to him, arms wrapping tightly around him before stepping back, keeping her hands on his arms to look him up and down. "Did something happen? Are you hurt?" Her happiness morphs into concern and he leans down to press a kiss to her forehead.
"M'fine, mum. Was just missing home."
Molly freezes, shocked to hear that her free-spirited son misses home. Her eyes get a little teary, but she's quick to put a lid on her emotions. "We've missed you too. Now come, come. Come sit and I'll make you a plate. You're looking a little thin."
Charlie laughs off her comment, dropping his knapsack atop the end of the table and taking a seat towards the middle. He sighs as he settles in, watching his mother load up a plate of roast beef, mashed potatoes and gravy. "Did you get some new neighbors across the field?"
"Oh, yes! All the way from America, they are. Big and lovely and I can't wait for you to meet them." She takes the plate by hand, levitating a basket of rolls behind her. As she sets it down, she turns around to grab a pitcher of pumpkin juice and an extra glass. "We're actually having dinner outside tomorrow with them. Will you still be around?"
"Of course. I took two weeks off from work."
"Wonderful!"
Charlie sags in his seat as he digs into his food, watching his mum as she works around the kitchen. She even walks behind him, running her fingers through his newly cut hair and tugging on the strands that still have a bit of length to them. Thankfully, she doesn't say a word about it.
During his meal, his dad and Percy get home from the Ministry.
Out of all his siblings, Percy and his wife Penelope are the only ones who reside in the Burrow with Molly and Arthur. Everyone else has moved out with their significant other and/or with each other as in the twins' case. But his mum must have alerted everyone else because soon enough, Bill and Fleur are coming in with their daughter, followed by Fred and George. Ginny and Harry show up, and then Ron and Hermione appear last.
Charlie fills them in about the going on's of the Dragon Reserve and how he recently got to handle a few baby dragons. He admits to feeling drained which is why he's on vacation and when he can't think of much else to say, he asks about the neighbors.
Surprisingly, every Weasley loves them.
The parents had moved into the muggle world after the father had retired, but decided to up and move when two of their children, plus their wives and grandchildren, decided to move here for better job opportunities. Everyone else just followed because they really were a close knit family.
"It's why there's a cluster of homes rather than one large one," Fred says.
"The parents have their own home and the four eldest, who are all married off with children of their own, have their own place as well," George then adds in.
"And then there's YN, the only single one of the bunch, who has her own place too because she likes her privacy," Ginny muses. "I quite like her home most of all."
"Why?"
"Because she transformed one of the rooms into a meadow and has a branch of bowtruckles living with her. They're really quite adorable," Hermione tells him.
"Aren't they meant to be wild?"
"They are, but the ones she rescued have apparently formed a connection with her and refuse to leave."
Charlie chuckles and mentions he can't wait to meet the whole lot.
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Flooing into your home, you moan and groan all the way to your bathroom as you peel off your clothes piece by piece. You're so used to working in the middle of a battlefield, that now you're working inside a hospital you made the mistake of dropping your guard. And in dropping your guard, you made yourself vulnerable to a pureblood who discovered muggle narcotics and decided to go on a bender.
Being knocked upside the head with a metal food tray was not fun, nor was waking up minutes later only to be told you'd been knocked unconscious and were going to be left with a bruised face. Afterwards you'd managed to finish out your work day, counting your lucky stars that you had the next two days off.
You shower off the day's grime, forgoing any glamours, and dress in jean capris with a gray tank top beneath an opened flannel. Then before you put on shoes, you walk towards the third bedroom which you had transformed into a meadow of sorts. Checking on your branch of bowtruckles, you giggle as you spot them coming out from their favored places around the room upon your entrance.
Stepping down into the room, your footfalls are quieted by the soft moss covering the floor. Then walking up to the main tree, you hold out your hand out for the bowtruckle that holds out his spindly arms towards you.
"Hiya, sweetheart." The bowtruckle steps onto your hand and you readily raise him towards your shoulder. "Did you miss me?" You smile at the featherlight touches to the bruised side of your face, heart melting at the chirping he emits in worry. "I'm fine. It's okay. Just a little work mishap." You give him a moment to sate his curiosity and then gently scoop him back up to settle him back among his tree. Only he clutches to your fingers and refuses to let go. You sigh. "Fine. You can come," you mumble, "but you need to behave. We're going to the Weasley's."
As you settle the bowtruckle on your shoulder, you bid the others goodbye before heading out front. Putting on some shoes, you head outside and squint against the setting sun. Then summoning your broom, you lazily fly over towards the Burrow where you see your family and the Weasley family all settled around an enlarged table where dinner is spread out.
You laugh as you hear some cheers upon them spotting you and then touch ground, placing your broom against a tree before heading towards the table ladened with food.
"Merlin," one of your brother guffaws, "what happened to your face?"
"A patient of mine discovered muggle narcotics," you tell him. You quickly hug your mom and dad from behind, ruffling the hair of your many nieces and nephews who are too busy eating to pay you any attention. "He went on a bit of a bender and mistook his lunch tray for a beater's bat and my face for a bludger." Several family members and Weasley's wince in sympathy. Then walking over to Mrs. Weasley, you hug her from behind as well as she pats your arms and looks up worriedly at you. "I'm fine. I just didn't want to waste the energy holding up a glamor. The bruises will fade."
"We have some bruise paste lying around here somewhere," Fred says.
"We can send some over when we find it later. Should make the bruising fade by morning," George tells you as well.
"Really? I'd appreciate it." As you take a seat at the only empty seat, your smile falters at the unfamiliar redhead. "You're new."
His lips twitch in amusement. "Charlie Weasley."
Eyes lighting up in recognition, you sit up a little straighter in your seat. "Ah yes. I've heard loads about you."
"All good I hope."
"If you count the fact that your siblings like to say you fondle dragons good, then sure."
"YN!" Bill snorts out pumpkin juice at your mom's shrill shout. "That's not nice."
Mostly everyone, Charlie included, laughs. "What? He didn't take offense to it."
Your mom shakes your head at you and you wink at Charlie before grabbing a plate and loading it up with food. Everyone jumps back into the conversations they'd been having and you settle in, letting the atmosphere wash over you.
"So who's this?" You hear from your left just as you're taking a drink of water. Glancing at Charlie, you grin when you see him eying your shoulder.
"This," you muse, raising a hand to your shoulder, "is Benny the Bowtruckle." The bowtruckle steps onto your hand and you bring him out from your hair. "He was my first rescue and he's proven to be a bit protective and clingy."
"Watch it, Charlie," Fred calls out. "The little bugger bites!"
You glance at Fred, shaking your head as you grin. "Well if you didn't continuously poke at him, he wouldn't have resorted to such measures."
Charlie chuckles and holds his hand out, palm up, and you practically hold your breath as you watch Benny cautiously walk over to him. "Nice to meet you, Benny."
Benny seems to perk up at his name, immediately chirping away and waving his spindly arms to and fro. You watch in awe as Charlie holds a conversation with the bowtruckle as if he understands the chirps and coos, and then narrow your eyes at your family as you hear a mumbled, "She's done for. She's gonna bed the dragon tamer."
You don't know who's said it, but your family and the Weasley's closest to them have all heard it, and everyone's looking between you and Charlie now.
Shaking your head at them, you then continue eating before asking Charlie, "So why dragons?"
"Why a doctor?" He looks up at you, setting Benny on the table so he can explore. You arch an eyebrow at him and he shrugs. "I just really love dragons. They're magnificent beasts."
"They really are, but they're very intimidating as well. I'm not trying to get blasted by fire or stepped on."
"You like dragons? What's your favorite?"
"I'm quite partial to the Antipodean Opaleye because of its pearly scales and multi-colored eyes," you tell him. "Or the Swedish Short-Snout because of its blueish-silver scales and blue flame."
Charlie slowly smiles. "You know your dragons."
"I know a bit about my favorite dragons," you correct him. "I have nowhere near the amount of knowledge you no doubt possess."
Charlie continues to smile and then, "Oh no. The dragon tamer's gonna defile our baby sister."
The words are said loud enough that both you and Charlie hear, even Harry if his sudden choking on his food is anything to go by, and you whip your head in the direction of your brother whose eyes suddenly widen. "You wanna say that again?"
"No. Nope." Your brother shakes his head. "You got that glint in your eye like you're gonna maim me."
"Blimey," Ron drawls. "What is it with the youngest girl siblings? They're so mean."
"What?" Ginny turns in her seat, narrowing her eyes. "You wanna say that again, WonWon?" This time, Hermione chokes on her drink, and you cackle at both Hermione's giggling and Ron's reddening ears.
As the siblings squabble, you reach for Benny to place him back on his shoulder when the table gets jostled a little too hard. Molly shouts at the twins and Ginny, and you sit back, eating even more food.
"So why a doctor?" Charlie asks.
"Because Mungos was the only place that I could put my skills to use," you tell him. At his arched eyebrow, you explain. "In America, the MACUSA has a program called First Aide Responder. I'm trained for both combat and medical, so I would rush out into the field when an auror went down and it was too risky to portkey them to a hospital."
"You'd give first aid mid-battle?"
"Yep." You smile and pop a piece of chicken into your mouth. Chewing and swallowing, you tell him, "I had these stones that I would set out around me and my patient that acted as a shield. But if someone tried attacking the shield, that's where my combat skills came into play and I'd duel whoever was attacking before getting back to my patient. But then moving here, the Ministry doesn't have that so I applied at St. Mungos."
Harry, who'd been listening, says, "That's actually quite brilliant- settling the injured before moving them without knowing where they're injured or how severely they're injured. I'm gonna have to talk to the Minister to see if we can apply something like that here."
Everyone picks back up on their own conversations and you continue eating until you can't anymore. And when you feel like the waistband of your capris are digging uncomfortably into your stomach, you exhale roughly and lean back in your seat.
"Don't tell me you're full," your dad says. "There's peach cobbler."
Immediately you pick your fork back up. "Where?"
You're not even embarrassed at the many snorts that sound around the table as you watch Molly serve you a plate of the fruity dessert. You anxiously wiggle in your seat as it's passed down the table and happily dig into it even though you're near to bursting.
"Take note, Weasley's, Granger and Potter. If you ever want YN to do something or forgive you for something, peach cobbler is her weakness."
"I won't do it right now because Mrs. Weasley has not yet gotten accustomed to our brash demeanors with each other, but I'm mentally flipping you all off," you tell your family.
As time slips by, the children start nodding off at the table. Bill and Fleur decide to call it a night and take their daughter home, as do your brothers, their wives and their children. You, your mom and your sisters help Mrs. Weasley clean up, and then Fred's rushing upstairs to find that bruise paste he and George had told you about.
Then when it's time to finally go home, you bid the Weasley's and their significant others goodbye before grabbing your broom and hitching it on your shoulder opposite the one Benny is sitting on as you walk across the field back to your home.
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The following morning, you wake up at the telltale sounds of a thump hitting your door. You know it's the magical and muggle newspapers being delivered as you lay there trying to get back to sleep, but you find that you can't. So with a low groan, you get up to start your coffee and then lazily wash up.
Looking in the mirror as you brush your teeth and wash your face, you marvel that the bruise paste did exactly as the twins told you it would do. There is no bruising to see and you're grateful you don't have to see the discoloration anymore.
Then fixing up a cup of coffee just the way you like it in a to-go cup, you pop a lid on it and head outside. You see that the sun is barely on the rise, so you quickly grab your broom and carefully take to the sky with your coffee still in hand.
Lazily flying in circles, you hover mid-air above the field between your house and the Weasley's to sip on your coffee while the sun rises. You close your eyes against the sun, basking in the warmth and just enjoying the peace of it all.
You're mid-sip when you hear the whoosh of a broom and look around for the culprit. Surprisingly, it's the newest Weasley that you met just last night. So smiling softly, you nod in greeting just as he hovers near you. "Hey. What brings you up here so early?"
"Was gonna go for a run when I saw you hanging out up here. Just wanted to check that everything was alright."
"Oh yeah. It's perfect," you tell him. Then gesturing towards the hills in the distance, you say, "Was just enjoying the view."
Charlie looks out, huffing. "If you think that's amazing, you should see the view at the Dragon Reserve. It's really something."
"Yeah? Well unless I have a friend who's going to invite me out there sometime, I don't think I'll ever be able to see it."
"Fair enough." Charlie laughs. "But it won't be for a while. I'm on vacation."
You exaggerate your accent, making yourself sound like a southern belle as you drawl, "However will I cope?" Charlie barks out a laugh and you smile, sipping your coffee. "So what are your plans for vacation, Weasley?"
He shrugs as he circles you on his broom. "Not much. Just hang out with my family when they're not working." You hum. "And you? You got to get to work any time soon?"
You shake your head. "Nope. I'm off today and tomorrow."
"Any plans?"
"Actually, yeah. There's a movie I've been dying to see at the cinema. It's the third movie in the franchise, so they're going to be playing parts one and two beforehand. You interested if you're not doing anything today?"
Charlie comes to a stop in front of you, grimacing. "I've never been to a cinema. Is it- what do I-"
"It's real simple," you assure him. "You just dress the part of a muggle- shirt, jeans, and boots are perfectly fine- and I'll take care of the rest."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive. But are you sure you want to go? You might not even be interested in the movie I'm going to see."
"Well what movie are you going to see?" He asks, grinning.
"It's a movie about dinosaurs." Charlie sits a little taller on his broom and you grin. You knew that'd catch his attention. "Part one is all about some rich guy who hires scientists to replicate dinosaur DNA and makes a theme park of a variety of dinosaurs. Spoilers, it doesn't go well for the humans."
Charlie snorts. "Anyone could see that coming."
"Then part two is about more scientists studying the dinosaurs and trying to bring them back to the States."
"Because that's so smart. Stupid muggles."
You grin. "And then part three is supposed to be a boy and his stepfather vacationing too close to the islands where the dinosaurs reside and then they go missing. The muggles end up returning to the island to search for them."
Charlie shakes his head, but he's still grinning. "Those movies actually sound interesting. Should I bring anything?"
"Just bring your handsome self, Weasley." He playfully rolls his eyes, but you mentally pat yourself on the back as you see him faintly blush. "I can handle the muggle money, and after we choose our seats, I'll introduce you to muggle drinks and sweets. Just make sure you're ready by four in the afternoon and tell your mom you'll be gone till around ten."
"Okay. I can do that." He turns his broom in the opposite direction to head back home. "I guess I'll see you later."
. . . .
You and Charlie had shown up early to the cinema just so you could secure the best seats in the theater (middle of the very back row). He had admitted to wandering into the muggle world, but only to bars or clubs with his friends, so his awe at the snack bar and the giant screen in front of many cushioned seats amuses you.
You're grateful for the little tables and drink holders each seat comes with- you having got yourself and Charlie a large Cola and a medium-sized bucket of popcorn each that fits perfectly on there. You also got a variety of sweet and sour snacks that you lay in your laps, and you're so ready for the movies to start so you can see his reactions.
As the lights dim and the previews start to roll, you grin as you watch a wide-eyed Charlie get sucked in.
At one point, before the movie even starts, he leans over to tell you, "It's so loud."
"I know. Just imagine when the dinosaurs roar." You chuckle as his eyes seem to sparkle in the dark and then sit back to get comfortable.
Charlie is immediately entranced by the movie, even the beginning part where most people complain that it's boring. And then the vehicles get stuck by the t-rex enclosure, and the telltale thumps of the dinosaur's footsteps reverberate around the theater. Charlie looks at you, wide-eyed yet again, and you snort. The first roar of the dinosaur never fails to give you chills and you smirk when you see Charlie rubbing at his arms to stave off his own.
You and Charlie pace yourselves with the popcorn and drink, and you let yourself be sucked back into the movie until the credits roll.
"That.. was amazing," he breathes in awe once the lights come back up.
"And there's still two more movies to go." Charlie's smile makes your heart skip a beat and you have to shake yourself to not think about how attractive your neighbor's son is. "Um, do you want to go grab another Cola and popcorn? We can also stretch our legs and use the bathroom before the next one starts."
"Yeah. Good plan."
The second movie isn't really one of your favorites, so you watch Charlie more than you do the screen. He seems to enjoy it just as much as the first and it makes you happy that it was you who introduced him to muggle movies.
It's dark out by the time the third movie starts, and both you and Charlie are excited to see the return of Doctor Grant since he was missing from the second. What appears to be a Spinosaurus is the main dinosaur of the movie and you're surprised to see just how vicious they made it in the film. The pack of Velociraptors excites you to the point that Charlie chuckles at your side, and by the end of the movie the two of you are excitedly chatting about your favorite parts as you leave the theater.
Nighttime proves to be a popular time for everyone to visit the cinema, and the second time someone shoulders into you with a mindless apology thrown over their shoulder, Charlie tucks you under his arm to keep you close and push aside anyone who gets too close.
Outside in the fresh air, you look up at your companion and melt at the content expression on his face. "Wanna grab a bite to eat before we head home?"
"Fish and chips?"
"You're so British," you laugh, "but yeah. I can go for some fish and chips."
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Your second day off is spent lounging around your house, spending some time with your family before you have to go back to work.
Then afterwards, you and Charlie find yourself in a routine where you find the time to wander off into muggle London and find something new to do.
At the combined family dinners, you and Charlie take to sitting next to one another, chatting and laughing. Both your families take notice of the time you're spending together and his family, especially Molly, seem most excited about it. But someone must have said something because their knowing and teasing looks disappeared overnight one day.
Then Charlie's two weeks comes to an end, and you find that his impending departure is actually making you sad.
"Don't look so sad," Charlie muses. "It's not like you're not going to see me for weeks at a time. I'm actually going to come home when I'm able to."
"Stop laughing at me." You walk into your living room, two cups of tea in hand before you pass one off to him. You settle down into the corner of your sofa, curling your legs beneath you. "It'd just be my luck that, after finding someone I actually enjoy hanging out with, our days off won't line up."
"Aw you enjoy hanging out with me?"
You narrow your eyes at him as you sip your tea, causing Charlie to chuckle. "It's nice not third wheeling my siblings or your siblings. Or even being designated babysitter when we're out and about."
Charlie sips his tea, smiling. "Am I going to be getting owls from you?"
"Duh. You're gonna grow sick of me, Weasley. Just watch."
"Impossible."
The evening turns darker and darker, and all too soon it's time for Charlie to leave to get in his last goodbye with his family. You vanish both your cups to the kitchen, standing at the same time he does. You and Charlie take one look at each other, him with a neutral expression whereas yours is a little weary, and burst out laughing.
"You're being a dick. Stop laughing at my sadness." But your words only make him laugh more.
Grabbing your hand, Charlie pulls you into a hug. He tucks you right under his chin, arms around your shoulders while yours wrap around his waist. You exhale softly, melting into him. "Don't be sad. I'll owl and floo call you to the point you're annoyed by me."
"Impossible," you mumble.
The two of you hug a little longer than necessary, but then you're both pulling away at the same time. Charlie's looking down at you, an expression on his face that makes it look like he's going to say something, but he shakes himself clear of it. "I'll see you around, YN."
"Mhm. See you around, Charlie."
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The first combined family dinner, it's obvious to everyone there that your friendship with Charlie is something you're sorely missing. Your brothers and the Weasley twins do everything to lift your spirits, but they only manage to do it for a brief time before you're sinking back into your loneliness.
You're the first to leave, citing tiredness and that you need to be well rested for work. No one says a thing, so you walk home with a bowl of peach cobbler for later.
You take your time in the shower, dressing in your most comfortable sleep clothes afterwards. Then heading into your kitchen to eat the peach cobbler, you're surprised to find an owl sitting on your table and a small package attached to its leg. Immediately your mood lifts, hope filling you.
"Hey buddy, long flight?" You ask the bird. He or she hoots in confirmation and you quickly untie your mail from its leg. Setting it aside, you're quick to grab a small bowl of water and some owl treats from a container on your counter. "If you're coming from where I'm hoping you're coming from, please get comfortable. I'll have my reply ready and send it off with you in the morning."
The owl hoots once more before taking flight, making itself comfortable atop your kitchen cabinets.
Grabbing the small package and letter the owl had carried, you take it to your room to open. Sitting in the middle of your bed, you open the letter first. And checking the signature at the bottom, your heart soars when you see it's from Charlie.
His letter to you is a bit on the short side, but its contents make your heart pound. He hopes that you're okay and that work is fine, but he also expresses how much he misses your companionship and your outings. In the short two weeks he'd been home, he grew accustomed to you being there and he doesn't quite know what to do with himself in Romania anymore. Even his coworkers and friends have noticed his mind is elsewhere, so now a bunch of dragon tamers know that Charlie met a girl- a girl who's actually held his attention. He expresses his anxiousness for the day he can portkey back home and the day he does, he's taking you on a date. His name is signed at the bottom and then the sidenote exclaims he hopes you like his gift.
Carefully setting the letter aside after reading it twice more, you open the small box. Inside, laying atop some tissue paper, is a braided leather triple wrap bracelet. There's a charm, of sorts, dangling from it and when you look closer you realize it's a blueish-silver dragon scale from a Swedish Short-Snout that's been cut into a rounded triangle- almost like a muggle guitar pick.
Giggling like a schoolgirl, you clip the bracelet onto your right wrist before admiring it for a moment. Heart filled with nothing but adoration for this man, you scramble out of bed and towards your desk so you can pen your own reply.
Charlie Weasley!
You did not just ask me out via owl. I'm pretty sure Molly raised you better than that.
But either way, just know that I'd say yes. Especially after this beautiful bracelet you've given me. I love it. Thank you so much!
And in case your family hasn't owled you, I miss you too. I really got used to you being there after work or on my days off, so I may or may not have been moping. And our families might have picked up on it. Sorry, in advance, for whatever your family might say or ask to figure out what's going on here.
Work is fine, by the way. I've not had any mishaps like that first night we met. And if I'm being honest, I'm actually finding that I kind of like the hospital atmosphere as much as I loved working out in the field.
Miss you and I'll see you soon. Hopefully.
You sign your name and then fold the parchment, placing it in an envelope that you seal with wax. Then taking it out front to the owl, you set the envelope next to the bird. "Please take that back to Charlie when you're ready to go." The owl hoots in response and you smile, tossing a few more owl treats atop your cabinet for it.
You go to sleep feeling more giddy than you have since Charlie left, and over the next few days if the two families notice you're not as mopy as you have been, they're wise to keep their mouths shut.
Another week passes and just as your mood is drifting into sad territory again, Charlie comes home.
You're eating dinner at your own house, having made a trip into muggle London in search of some decent Chinese food. And with a mouthful of noodles, you're startled when there's a series of knocks on your front door.
Quickly washing the noodles down, you clean off your hands and head for your door. Opening it up, you freeze upon the sight of your favorite Weasley. At your quiet gasp, his eyes dart up to meet your shocked expression. He slowly smiles and you're knocked out of your stupor before you throw yourself at him.
"Charlie!"
He laughs as he catches you, hoisting you up so you can wrap your legs around his waist. His hands grasp the back of your thighs as your arms go around his head, practically smothering him against your chest. "Miss me?"
"Yes!" As you pull back, your hands settle as the back of his head so your fingers grasp his hair at the nape of his neck. You smile down at Charlie, trying not to squirm in his hold seeing as there's a very obvious tension between the two of you. You have an overwhelming urge to lean down and kiss him, but glancing towards the Burrow shows several people standing at the kitchen door and staring out the kitchen window. "Um, should we move this inside? I'm pretty sure your mom and sister and the twins are hoping for some sort of show."
Charlie turns so he can see what you're seeing and he huffs as he sees his nosy family still watching. You let your legs drop from his waist, falling the rest of the way so your feet touch the floor. Then pulling him inside, Charlie shuts the door behind him.
"Having dinner without me?" He asks as he follows you into the kitchen.
"Well if I knew beforehand that you'd be here, I'd have gotten extra," you tell him. You watch as he grabs an egg roll and you're quick to slap the back of his hand. "Hands off the fried goods, Weasley!"
But your swat does nothing to deter him and Charlie happily eats half of the eggroll in one bite. He smirks at your grumbling and then finishes off the eggroll with a chuckle. "Do you work tomorrow? I believe I promised you a date as soon as I got in."
"I am off tomorrow," you tell him, slowly angling your body towards him as you look up, "but can we just go get more food and come back here? I'm looking forward to that date you promised, but I want to be able to enjoy it and not start yawning halfway through. Today was a long day."
"Sure thing. Is the Chinese place terribly far?"
"Nope. Let me just slip on some shoes and we'll go." You step away from Charlie, exhaling roughly and realizing you hadn't been breathing normally while standing so close to him.
The wizard had just gotten home and already the anticipation was building between the two of you.
. . . .
Later on, after you've eaten your fill of Chinese food and got to catch up in person, you're walking Charlie to the front door so he can head back home. But before he opens the door, he turns towards you and pulls you into a gentle hug.
You melt into his embrace, yawning against his chest. "Thanks for agreeing to stay in. I promise you can plan a date for tomorrow and I'll happily agree to it."
"Well if you call this date, I can probably do that thing I've been meaning to do since we first started hanging out."
"Yeah? And what's that?"
"This." You let Charlie angle your face upward, molding your lips to his ease. You giggle into his mouth, heart pounding the longer Charlie Weasley kisses you.
When you pull back, mouth centimeters from his, you grin. "Glad to know we're on the same page." You peck his lips once more before falling back onto the balls of your feet. "Now get going, Weasley, before I pull you into my room and give our families something to talk about."
Charlie laughs and untangles himself from you. "They're going to find out sooner or later."
"Well let it be later," you tell him. "Let us figure out what this is between us and see if we mesh as well as we hope we do before getting anyone excited."
"It's not going to be easy sneaking behind all their backs."
"No." You slowly smirk up at him. "But it will be fun."
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