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#dean and i have things in common. not many! but this one i suspect
zmediaoutlet · 1 year
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happy wincest wednesday, liz! what are their favorite rooms in the bunker to have sex in?
haaaaappy wincest wednesday, let's get down to the business of meat:
The True Truth is that when they move into the bunker it's s8 and Dean's in his mid-thirties and, frankly, he prefers fucking in a bed, let's be honest. I mean there's the infirmary beds -- that's kinda freaky in a fun sexy roleplay game, right Sammy? -- and there is a certain sacrilegious spice to banging in each of the bedrooms in order, which adds Oh No, Oh God spice when their mother happens to pick the bedroom in which they just happen to have nailed the most. The classic cars in the garage have gotten a little play, but to be honest Dean's kind of a fussy bitch about not messing up the mint paint so that's not as fun as it could be -- aside from the time that Sam pressed him up against the pretty little green dame and blew his brains out. That was quite fun indeed.
I suppose the war room would be popular because the map table, but to be honest that sounds like a pain in the ass. (Any sex with Sam is a pain in the ass, heyooo --)
So for unusual, non-bedroom-having rooms to bang in I am going for two options: the library and the Dean Cave. Armchairs, man. You can get a nice height with riding or with one party kneeling in the seat and the other person standing (although sometimes Sam has to take a wide stance). Plus, once you're done you can sprawl out in a lovely leather armchair or a recliner with booze very close to hand, and what's better than that. (A bed, says Dean's back.) Plus the lighting is nice! I'm sure those keg neons Dean set up do wonders for Sam's skin. Sam notices that Dean's not looking him in the eyes but is instead admiring the haze of blue-red light on his hair and gets vaguely offended. Perf. :)
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Dear Elanor
I have a question about hair. I know you are the foremost expert on not being an expert about hair and so I'm choosing to speak to you instead of people who have studied this subject far more in depth than you and most certainly me. You see I have Celtic ancestors on one side and the Germanic ones on the other and for a very brief period in secondry school I had lovely, wavy auburn in the right light hair. And then everything went odd??? I believe there to have been a war somewhere in my genes and barring all evidence to the contrary have settled on this as the only possible reason. My hair has gone straight. I've tried all the CGM things and stolen my wife's bristle brush and my hair resolutely refuses to be anything but thick and occasionally poofy (when the brush is involved I end up looking quite like a tribble held up to a balloon) and even more confusingly settled itself on a sandy blonde that had I not already worked on my toxic masculinity issues would lead me to a life of a very successful Dean Winchester cosplayer. But there were three delightful years when I had Anakin hair a la revenge of the sith. Minus the grease. And I can't for the life of me figured out what happened or how to get the fun wibbles back. Even when I tried growing it out again recently it was just like 'ah, no, you see, we shall be the only straight thing about you and you shall suffer under the weight of it and force yourself to do an even more confusing gender thing and buy hair clips because we as the collective on your scalp have come to a common agreement without you,' and I'm just wondering, if you maybe know something in the deep magic not at all rooted in any kind of science because if I go to Actual Hair People they will tell me science things and I am not interested in their science that comes seriously and with no hint of long suffering or tangents and also products that I'm sure cost a great deal of money. Do you know, Elanor? Do you know what witch or ghost or ancestor I have somehow upset/wronged/accidentally pleased somehow? Things I have attempted: - going outside, turning around three times and spitting - asking the cats to intercede on my behalf - not washing my hair at all for a month and seeing if that shocks it into behaving (look, isolation got weird and my hair only got straighter,) - writing a letter to my dear departed irish gaelic professor in hopes that he might know something only to feel terrible about writing the letter in english because i never actually learned how to be literate in class - observing a oujia board from a distance and nodding solemnly - staring at the bottom of a quarry like the vast abyss of stone might somehow do A Thing. It did not. It did, however, unlock many thoughts. - the bristle brush - a return to asking the cats who were less amused this time than they were the first and gave me a great deal of their hair as though I should somehow be pleased and honoured with this gift. it got up my nose and I was neither so I'm beginning to suspect their involvement My sympathies to you upon your receipt of this message.
Hmm. Okay.
You need to buy some good cheese, probably three wheels, and maybe some good white bread to be on the safe side (bonus points if home-baked, but don't go trying to make it super soft or super hard). Then you need to find a faerie-infested Welsh lake. I'd recommend Llyn y Fan Fach, probably, because it has a pretty good hit-rate with water fey, so the odds are pretty good. Go at dusk, when the light plays tricks on you. Bring no iron or salt. If you see a faerie ring, DO NOT STEP IN WITH BOTH FEET.
Drop a cheese into the water - and the bread if you brought that - and ask for your curls back. For bonus points you should probably do it in Welsh? Maybe demonstrate at the water by curling a lock around your fingers for good measure. Tell them the cheese is a gift.
Return on the second night and do it again. Drop a cheese in, ask for the curls, tell them it's a gift. NO IRON.
On the third night, do it again. If it's worked, this is the night they'll reply. Most likely they'll give you a comb, or an oaken rod about which to wind your curls, or a faerie ointment, or some other thing. Listen carefully to the instructions, though, and don't deviate from them. Also Welsh faeries almost always add that you shouldn't reveal where you got their gifts from, and if you tell ANYONE they will take them back and fuck you up, so that's pretty likely. Whether it works or not, tell everyone it didn't.
If it doesn't happen on the third night, then it's Request Denied, I'm afraid. The origin of your curse is likely not Welsh (that or you bollocksed up one or more steps; it's easily done.) I wish you luck, friend.
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spnhunter4life · 2 months
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Winchester's Girl
A Dean hockey AU. I went to a game with my coworkers last night and came up with this idea. However, since I have neither the motivation nor the knowledge of the sport to write out a full-fledged fic for this, have a bullet pointed summary of what I came up with. (What would this be called? An imagine maybe? I feel like I've seen posts similar to this called imagines.)
A/N: Ok, so this turned out to be longer than I anticipated (imagine that). This is a bit more actual story and less summary than I expected when I started this. I still think it fits better in this format though, because it's easier to skip around where I want and not put the effort into combining it all together somehow. Also, just a heads up, this is tagged friends to lovers because I think that's the best way to describe it. I also think the lovers part tends to imply that there will be smut, but that is not the case here.
Word Count: 3.5k
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You and Dean have been friends for so long, you can barely even remember life without him. You met in eighth grade when your family moved to Kansas and immediately clicked. You had a lot in common, but you especially bonded over your shared love of hockey. You were there to be proud and support him as he transitioned from the local high school team to the college team, and then again when he made it to a professional team. Nothing made you more proud or excited than hearing that he had become center for the Kansas Hunters.
All the guys on the team knew you. You were even pretty good friends with a few of them. Since you attended more of his games than you might care to admit and had even been known to attend a practice or two if you and Dean had plans after, the rest of the guys jokingly referred to you as Winchester's girl.
"Hey, Winchester! Your girl is here!" They would call out to him when they spotted you entering the building on practice days. It was Benny who said it the first time, and it just sort of caught on from there.
"Who is that girl?" Cas's new girlfriend asked one night, spotting you at a party following a big win. "I think I've seen her at every single one of your games." Cas barely even needed to glance in your direction to know who she was talking about. "Who, Y/n? That's just Winchester's girl."
A couple years ago, during the off season, Dean decided it was time to take you skating. Despite being a lifelong hockey fan, you'd never actually learned to skate. You were a little nervous about falling over a lot and making a fool out of yourself, but mostly you were excited. You loved watching Dean on the ice, the speed and ease with which he moved. It was like he was flying. You wanted to be able to experience that freedom for yourself.
Despite his laughter and teasing -- "How can someone who spends so much time at a hockey rink be so terrible at skating?" -- he was a very good teacher. He had endless patience and was familiar with the way you learned which made it easy for him to pass on the secret knowledge of how to balance on two blades in a way you quickly understood.
By the end of the first lesson, you were a little bruised from falling so many times but had also figured out how to stay upright and move around. And if you were still moving at a snail's pace as you got used to things while Dean zoomed by you, at least you were on your feet.
You and Dean have this years-long running bet of sorts. It started in high school when the two of you were in chorus together, you because you enjoyed it and wanted to be and Dean because he had to in order to get his fine arts credit -- although you suspect that no matter how much he denies it, there was a small part of him that enjoyed it. Your teacher had a requirement that at the local band/chorus contest, everyone must participate in at least one small group piece on top of the pieces you sang as a full choir. Dean pestered you for days before you finally agreed to do a duet with him. "But," you told him, "only if you score a goal within the first three minutes of the game tonight." You weren't sure why you decided to make him work for it instead of just agreeing. After all, you knew he was a decent singer and would make a good duet partner. Not to mention you enjoyed spending time with him, so working on a song together wouldn't exactly be a hardship. But you'd already offered the deal and weren't about to take it back. Of course Dean's eyes lit up at the challenge and he immediately agreed. That night, just over two minutes into the game he scored a goal. He immediately looked up, finding you in the crowd quickly since you tended to sit in the same place, and winked at you. You knew it was his way of gloating in the couple seconds he had available to do so, and you rolled your eyes at him but couldn't contain your smile.
After that it became a thing. If there was something Dean wanted from you -- something he wanted help with or something he wanted to do that he knew you'd enjoy but you were a little hesitant about (like going to homecoming with him) -- he'd use the "if I score a goal in under three minutes" challenge as a way to get it.
After a while, it evolved into more of a silly game. It became an almost every game occurrence. He still brought up big things once in a while -- "if I score in under three minutes tonight, you have to go talk to that cute guy from the library you won't shut up about" -- but it was mostly little stuff. "If I score in under three minutes tonight, I get to pick the movie we watch this weekend; If I score in under three minutes tonight, you're buying me a pizza; If I score in under three minutes tonight, you have to come with me to the show my friend and his horrible band are putting on. If I have to suffer through it, so do you."
You suspected that he liked the challenge of it, that he wanted to give himself a reason to really work hard. While he definitely wasn't managing to score in time every night, he managed it enough to gain a reputation for himself as an early game scorer. "Watch out for Winchester in those first few minutes of the game," you'd heard people say. "If he gets anywhere near your goal, he will score."
Just like the first time, if he won the challenge, he would find you in the stands and wink at you. In the college years, this led to the more intense fans -- particularly the young women who knew what he looked like beneath the helmet -- to speculate who he might be winking at and why. In the last couple years with the Hunters, it led to even more teasing from the guys about you being Winchester's girl.
It has been a brutal game against the Hunters' biggest rival the Leviathans. More fights have broken out than you've seen in probably the last three or four games combined. One of the Leviathans' defenders broke his wrist in the first period. The score has been neck and neck, neither team able to gain a lasting advantage over the other. There is about a minute and a half left in the game when Dean scores a goal, putting the Hunters two points ahead, the biggest gap of the whole game. The crowd cheers, none of them louder than you, you're sure.
It happens in the middle of the next play. One second Dean is flying down the ice, all fire and determination. The next, there's a collision of bodies. You don't think anything of it. It happens all the time. Until three of the bodies pull back and the fourth is left lying on the ice. You can't do anything but stare as the big black 67 of Dean's jersey stares back. Fear holds you prisoner and you can't move, watching helplessly as the coach steps onto the ice, followed soon after by an EMT. He manages to find his feet and is escorted slowly off the ice. You're on your feet in an instant, heading for the locker room where you know he'll be looked at.
You pace back and forth outside the locker room, not daring to actually go in. You know you're not allowed. So you pace, biting your fingernails as you listen to the final moments of the game and wait for some sort of news on Dean. The buzzer sounds, signaling the end of the game, and you know it's only a matter of time before the rest of the team is here. Maybe then you'll get some answers.
"What are you doing back here?" A hard voice demands. You look over to see the Leviathans' coach staring you down. He must have been passing by on the way to the other locker room. "You shouldn't be here," he says, not giving you time to answer.
"I know, but-"
"Get out of here," he demands. You know he's doing the right thing. He's probably dealt with overzealous fans before that wait for players outside the locker rooms and is only defending the privacy of the opposing team. But you don't appreciate his tone, especially given the circumstances.
"She's fine," a second voice says before you can answer. You look over the coach's shoulder to see Cas standing there, the rest of the team behind him. None of them look happy.
"Novak," the coach says. "I was just trying to make sure you weren't bothered. Fans shouldn't be back here."
"You're right, they shouldn't," Benny agrees. "But that's Winchester's girl. If she wants to be here, she has every right." The nickname that at first made you blush and now makes you roll your eyes never sounded so good. It's like a badge of honor. In a way, the team sees you as family. They will defend you and let people know you belong here with them. With Dean. The coach backs off.
"Just tell me how he is," you ask, turning to Benny and Cas with pleading eyes. Of course they don't have any more idea than you do, but you just want them to go in, assess the situation, and come back to tell you what's going on.
"Why don't you go find out for yourself?" Benny answers. You look at him in surprise. "I can't go in there," you tell him.
"Sure you can," Kevin disagrees. "Nobody's undressed in there. You can be in and out before we've got our pads off." You wait for only a second to see if anyone will protest and when they don't, you rush inside. Your eyes zero in on Dean immediately, sitting on a bench and talking with the EMT, who turns his head at the sound of the door opening. A look of surprise crosses his face and he stands up. "Young lady, you can't-"
"Yes she can," Dean cuts him off. His eyes are looking slightly unfocused, but they are fixed on you. You hear the rest of the team file in behind you as you make your way over to Dean, slowly, like you're afraid he'll break if you move too fast. You look him over as you move. His helmet, gloves, and skates are off. He looks ok, except for the eyes. "What happened?" You ask, sitting carefully beside him. "Are you ok?"
"That depends," he responds. Fear fills you again. Is the injury that bad? "Depends on what?" You ask. On if he has surgery to fix it? On if he never plays hockey again? The horrible possibilities flood your mind.
"Did we win?" He asks. You're too stunned to answer. You replay his question in your head a few times, sure you must have misheard him. "Are you serious?" You finally ask.
"Yes, I'm serious," he responds. "Did we win?"
You let out a frustrated breath. "You were up by two with barely more than a minute left. Of course you won," you answer. "Then I'm fine," he says. You feel like you could smack him. Why must he be so difficult? Why couldn't he just answer your question.
"Dean. What happened?" You demand. You can hear the edge in your voice.
"It's just a minor concussion. It was nothing. I'll be fine," he says dismissively.
"It was not nothing," you argue.
"It's hockey," he answers, as if that is explanation enough. "People get hurt. You should be used to that by now."
Sure, you've seen lots of players injured throughout the years. You've even seen Dean injured. But it was always something minor. Bumps and bruises, a sprained wrist, a broken nose one time. It wasn't the same. "I should be used to seeing you laying flat out on the ice and not moving?" You demand. Something in your voice alerts him to the fact that you're done with the joking and avoiding.
He sighs. "What do you want from me here, sweetheart? It's over and I'm fine. There's nothing more to do about it."
His question catches you off guard. What do you want from him? For him to never play hockey again? No. That wouldn't ensure he was never hurt again, and he loves it too much. There are many reasons you could never ask that of him, not the least of which being you have no right to ask. Do you want him to assure you that he's alright? Because he's already done that. So, what then? If you're being honest with yourself, what you really want is to hold onto him for a while, and for him to hold you back while your brain works on accepting the fact that he really is ok. But you can't ask that.
Instead, you agree with him. "You're right. I'm sorry. You just really scared me out there."
"I'm sorry you were so scared," he says sincerely. "But I promise, I really am ok."
"I know," you say with a forced smile. You give his hand a squeeze before leaving the room, giving the rest of the guys the privacy they've been patiently waiting for.
It's a couple weeks after the concussion incident. Things between you and Dean have been the same as usual, except they haven't been. Not really. You can't pinpoint what it is that's different, but there's definitely something. It's New Year's Eve. You're at a party with Dean and a bunch of guys from the team. Dean has been at your side all night. You wouldn't go as far as calling it weird, but... it's definitely not usual. You've attended a lot of parties together and while you make a point of knowing where the other person is and even spending a fair amount of time together, you do usually hang out with other people too. Not that you're not hanging out with anyone else. It's just that apparently you're staying together while doing it. Not that you're complaining.
The midnight countdown is fast approaching. You're not currently dating anyone so you've resigned yourself to not having a midnight kiss this year. You don't mind. You don't really see it as the big deal a lot of people seem to. You think to yourself that Dean better find someone very quick if he plans on kissing someone though. For some reason, that thought doesn't sit quite right with you. You're not sure why. You've never cared before who Dean kissed.
The countdown starts. You watch the people around you as they scurry to be near their partners. The count reaches two and you turn to Dean, preparing to clink your beers together in celebration. The count reaches one and Dean's free hand goes to rest on your cheek as he leans in and presses his lips to yours. When he pulls away, it leaves you breathless. The room explodes into cheers and the clinking of bottles and glasses.
"Why'd you do that?" You ask, ignoring the celebration going on around you.
"Should I not have?" He asks. It's a mild question, but there's a challenge in it. As if he's daring you. But daring you to do what?
"No, it's not- I didn't say that." You're not sure what he was hoping you'd say, but this is clearly at the very least not the wrong response. He waits for you to continue. "It's just... we've both been single on New Year's Eve before. You've never kissed me."
"It's never been right before," he shrugs. He sees your confusion and explains. "You and me, I think we've been heading in this direction for a long time. And I think everyone but us could see it. It's why the guys tease us so much. It's why there's a bunch of hockey obsessed girls out there who are insanely jealous of you even though up until now there hasn't been anything to be jealous of. I think it's why all of my girlfriends haven't liked you very much and your boyfriends have hated me."
"I wouldn't say they hated you," you protest. You're not sure why. It's probably the nerves at the implications of what he's saying. It makes you feel better to say something, unhelpful as it may be. He just gives you a look before continuing.
"I don't know if we honestly didn't know we felt this way or were just lying to ourselves about it. But you can't tell me things haven't been different between us lately. I know it's not just me." Was he right? Was that the change you've been noticing? You're not sure if you would have come to this conclusion on your own. After all, this was Dean. Steady, reliable, Dean who you've never seen as more than a friend. But now that the possibility has been brought up, now that he's kissed you, you can't deny what you're feeling.
"Things have been different," you admit. "I just..." How to finish that sentence. You just what? Never saw Dean in that way? Not untrue, but what was the point in bringing it up? Objectively you've always been able to clearly see why other girls fought tooth and nail for his attention. And now that you are looking at him that way, it is a pointless statement. You weren't expecting it? Also true, but obvious enough without having to say it.
Dean is usually good about letting you sort through your thoughts at times like this, but today he doesn't have the patience. "You just what?" He prompts. "Didn't expect the night to go like this?"
"Well no, I didn't. But that's not what I was going to say."
"Then what?"
"I don't know," you sigh, frustrated at your inability to find the words you want. You start speaking without really thinking, and thankfully the right words come to you. "I guess I just didn't realize why things were different. I noticed it, but I couldn't figure out what it was."
"And now that you know?"
You give him a little mischievous smile, feeling more confident after having some time to process. "Being just friends was getting a little boring anyway. Too predictable. I think it's about time we change things up."
Dean grins back and it lights up his face. You nearly catch your breath at the sight. Having your eyes opened to your feelings is like peeling a film off your eyes that you've lived with your entire life without knowing it's there. It's like seeing him for the first time, and he is the most stunning man you've ever seen. "Alright," he says. "Let's change it up then. If I score in under three minutes at the next game, you have to go on a date with me. Maybe you even have to kiss me."
You stop your jaw from literally dropping open, but you know he can read the look of disbelief on your face. "Your next game isn't for four days." You point out. "You're really going to make me wait that long?"
He shrugs, but you can see the teasing glint in his eye. He's all talk. "We've waited for ten years. I don't see what another few days could hurt."
"Screw that," you say. You set your beer on the table next to you and throw your arms around his neck, pulling him down to you. His hands settle automatically on the small of your back, arms around your waist, and you can feel his smile as he kisses you. You can't help but to smile back.
You're soon interrupted by a shouted, "Hey, Winchester finally got his girl!" from a drunken Benny, followed by whistles and catcalls from the rest of his teammates. You can't fight the heat that rises to your cheeks, but you sit through the ensuing teasing and congratulations as patiently as you can. Thankfully it's short lived as there's more exciting things happening -- it is a party after all -- and Dean's arm around your waist certainly helps calm your nerves.
"Don't be embarrassed," Dean says, knowing you've never been one for PDA. "You know they don't care." You aren't so embarrassed that you won't get over it in a minute or two, but you appreciate his attempts to calm you nonetheless. "And look on the bright side," he adds, brightening at whatever he's thinking. "At least now we're all on the same page the next time they call you my girl."
You smile. He's right. 'Winchester's girl' has a whole new ring to it now. It might have taken us a while to catch up, but they were right. You are, and always were, Dean's girl.
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Secondary note: I realize I switch tenses halfway through this. I don't really feel like fixing it though. Also, I've tried to at least keep the present tense section all present tense, but I wouldn't be surprised if I'm switching back and forth. I usually write in past tense and found myself reverting back to it without realizing multiple times. I've reread it to try and catch anything, but it's late and I'm tired, so I probably missed some. I'll probably read this over again sometime in the next day or two to find any errors, but I wanted to get it posted. Hope you enjoyed!
Tags:
@123passwort @buckybarnes-1917 @chicken-nuggs-and-cozy-hugs @globetrotter28
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Hiii, I know u are usually writing for Draco but hear me out: friends to lovers with Seamus Finnigan. Reader and him are friends but she has a crush on him and when he gets beat up by the Carrows she takes care of him. And when she thinks he's unconscious she confesses her feelings. If u don't write for him, just ignore this but I just love ur writings and would love to read this.
Thanks for your request. I´ve never written for Seamus before, so I´m hoping I´ve written his character in the way you imagined it. Anyway, enjoy reading!
Refuge
Warnings: mention of blood
“This is just amazing.”, you stated, as you looked around in awe.
You had been in the Room of Requirement several times before, but it had never looked like this. Until now, you had mostly been here for the DA meetings and the room had looked like a training hall, but now reminded you more of your dorm and the common room in the Gryffindor tower. On the one side of the room stood several beds, each of them looked as if they were already used, except for one. On the other side were some tables and couches. Behind a door in the back, you suspected the bathroom. The walls were draped with the banners of the different houses. You noticed, that the arms emblem of Slytherin was missing. This room was the perfect sanctuary.
And Godric, you needed one. Since the new year had started a few weeks ago at Hogwarts, many things had changed. Snape was the headmaster by now and the jobs of the DADA and Mugglestudies teacher were filled by the Carrows. They were brother and sister and one was just as cruel as the other. While in the last few years it had been the job of the teacher in Mugglestudies to teach you about the world of the Muggles, about the differences but also similarities between muggles and wizards, Alecto Carrow now taught you that muggles were scum and not as worthy as wizards. And while the DADA teacher had taught you how to defend yourself against the dark arts, by now, you learned how to use dark magic yourself.
Only today, Amycus Carrow wanted to force you to practice the Cruciatus curse with some first years. When you had refused to hex the little girl standing in front of you, Amycus Carrow wanted to cast the spell on you instead, but somehow you had managed to escape. Seamus had found you in one of the corridors and brought you here.
“´t was Neville´s idea.”, Seamus stated. “Think by now he knows everything there´s to know about the room.”
Neville had been the first one who had to disappear. He had found refuge in the room he had spent so much time in back when Harry had founded the DA. By now, he literally lived in here, rarely ever leaving the room. And one after one, people had to follow Neville into the underground, because they had done something the Carrows didn’t approve of. Sometimes it was enough to just disappear for a few days until they had forgotten what you had done, but some people, like Neville and Seamus, knew that they might not survive the consequences they would have to face if the Carrows would catch them. But sometimes they still snugged out to help other students or to sabotage the work of the Carrows or Snape. They were aware of the fact that they risked their lives any time they left the room, but that was a risk they were willing to take. Because they knew what they were fighting for. And so did you. You knew you would have been able to live a peaceful life at Hogwarts if you would have obeyed the regime since you were a pureblood, but you also knew that other people weren’t that lucky. Whenever you doubted that all of this was actually worth it, if it may not already be too late and you should just give up, you thought about Dean, one of your best friends, who was currently on the run since he was a muggleborn. So was also Hermione, who you had shared a dorm with for the last six years. You knew that if they would get caught they would be lucky if they would stay alive -even if you weren’t sure if what they would have to face then wouldn’t be worse than death. And whenever you thought about giving up, you thought about your friends, who were somewhere out there and you knew that what you did, was worth fighting for.
“Your bed´s over there.”
Seamus pointed at the empty bed to his right.
“How is it possible that there is exactly one left?”, you asked.
Your friend shrugged his shoulders.
“Whenever someone new appears, a new set appears ´s well. The Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff banners also only appeared when the first of ´em came here." He grinned. "The room works in mysterious ways, you know?”
You shook your head in disbelief and smiled.
“That´s great. I really feel as if the school wants to support us.”
You went over to your bed and sat down. Seamus followed you and let himself fall onto your bed as well, laying down and looking at the ceiling. You lay down as well, watching the boy from the corner of your eye.
Seamus and you had been friends since the first year. It hadn’t been love at the first sight though. When he had set his feather on fire in your first Charms class, you just couldn’t help but laugh. It wasn’t that you laughed at him, it was more that the entire situation had been very bizarre. Seamus had mistaken your laugh and thought you would be making fun of him, which had kind of offended him. But when a few weeks later in potions class he had blown up his potion, covering you in some violet slime and you laughed again, he quickly realized that you were just genuinely entertained by his ability to blow up everything he touched. And when you hadn’t held it against it that the slime had burned some holes into your uniform, your friendship was set. From that moment on, you spent much time together, annoying each other just as much as everyone around you. But while you seriously tried to help him brew a potion without making it explode just once, he may or may not had screwed up some charms on purpose, just to see you laugh about it. Not that he would ever admit he had done so. But you not only liked him for his extraordinary talent in pyrotechnics. Seamus Finnigan was probably one of the most lovable people you had ever met. He was always in a good mood and had a heart of gold, not speaking of his great sense of humour. Seamus was one of the people who got along with nearly everyone and everyone genuinely liked him, even though sometimes he was quite hot-headed. That had led to many arguments between the two of you over the years since neither of you was one to cave in easily. But you also both were able to admit if you had screwed up something, which was why, any time you had gotten into an argument, you had only grown closer afterwards.
Over the years though you had realized that you may had grown too close to the boy. Or at least your feelings had. You didn´t even remember the moment you started to have a crush on your best friend. But you for sure remembered the moment you had realized. In your fourth year, due to the Triwizard Tournament, Hogwarts had hosted the Yule Ball. Seamus and you had agreed on being each other's date for that evening, not because you were interested in each other in a romantic way, but because you knew that no date could be as fun as each other’s company. And you had been right. Even though Seamus had been a terrible dancer -and also had shown absolutely no interest in changing that, you had had the most amazing night, dancing, talking and eating. And at one particularly slow song, when he had placed his hands on your waist and you yours around his neck, and you had finished laughing about how cheesy the entire situation was, he had somehow managed to -for the first time- not step on your toes once and when you had looked into his eyes and saw him smiling at you, you had felt an unknown warmth flushing your body. And first, you had tried to brush it off and blamed the entire atmosphere that evening, but for some reason after that night, the butterflies in your stomach returned every time you saw his dimples when he laughed, or he laid his arm around your shoulder.
Dean, who had been inseparable from Seamus since the first day, had noticed of course. When he had started to date Ginny, he had always tried to talk Seamus and you in “double dates”, which you had always refused to participate, you as well as Seamus always assuring Dean, that the two of you were just friends. Still, the four of you had always spent much time together. And sometimes when you had been sitting in the three broomsticks or on the couch in the common room, and Ginny and Dean had started all the cute talk and at some point snogging, you had caught yourself at the thought, Seamus and you could be just the same. Not just him flirting with you to mock Dean or laying his arm around your shoulder just because you were friends, but him assuring you that he loved you because he meant it and his arm not around your shoulder but around your waist or his hand holding yours to not only tell but show you how much he loved you.
But unfortunately, Seamus didn’t love you. At least not like this. And now that he laid beside you on your bed, he could have done the same with everyone else. He wouldn’t pull you close, wouldn’t whisper sweet nothings in your ear, he would just stay there, neither disappearing nor doing anything else but staying where he was.
After a few minutes of silence, you spoke up again.
“So what are you doing here all day when you are always stuck in this room?”
That´s when Seamus turned around, now facing you.
“That´s the best thing. We aren’t.”
You raised an eyebrow.
“I thought you couldn’t get out most of the days.”
A proud grin appeared on the boy´s face.
“I said we couldn’t get into the school most days.” He sat up. “Time to show you the secret passage.”
“Do you think something happened? They should be back by now.”
You looked at Lavender Brown anxiously. The girl just shrugged her shoulders helplessly.
“I hate this just as much as you do, but all we can do for now is wait.”
By now, it had been more than half a year since you first entered the Room of Requirement. And you barely ever went back into the school, since it had only gotten worse. Over time, most of the Gryffindors, many Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws and even some Slytherins (A/N: I know it´s different in the books but it´s my story so idc) had made this room their second home. Nearly every day someone new came here and people barely ever left. If someone went back to school it was mostly to help other students out, just like today. Neville had heard that the Carrows were torturing some first years down in the dungeons and he, Seamus and some Ravenclaws had sneaked out of the room to rescue them. You would have come as well, but since Lavender and you had been with Aberforth when the others heard the news, they were already gone when you had come back. Now all you could do was wait for them to return. What should have been half an hour ago. You didn’t even dare to think about what the Carrows would do if they would catch them.
A few weeks ago they had caught you, sneaking some supplies into the Room of Requirement. You didn’t know the curse they had used, but it had made small cuts appear all over your body. You had already lost much blood when the others had managed to get you to Aberforth who had luckily known what to do. Still, you had been in a dozy state for the next few days. All you could remember was that Seamus had stayed by your side the entire time, refusing to leave you alone, even at dinner or at night. He had held your hand assuring you, you would be fine again, blaming himself for not protecting you. You didn’t do so though. But as long as you knew him, it had been the first time, where he hadn’t had a quick-witted saying on his lips and the fire that had always been burning behind his eyes had been expired. It had hurt you to see him like this, but it had also given you hope that there might be more he was feeling for you after all. But if there was something, he didn’t show. You had spent several months literally living together, but nothing had happened between the two of you, except for the fact that your feelings for him had only grown stronger. You knew this wasn’t the right time to think about a possible romantic relationship. You fought for your life every day and there was a war going on and even if Seamus would feel for you the same way you felt for him, you didn’t know how much time the two of you would have left. On the other hand, wasn’t that another reason to confess to Seamus? If you could die every day, wouldn’t you want him to know? What if they had caught him today and you would never see him again? If they would kill him and you would never get a chance to tell him how much he actually meant to you?
“They are going to be just fine.”, Lavender´s voice made you snap back to reality.
You had buried your face in your hands, furiously trying to fight the images that appeared in your head. You smiled at her weakly, thankful that she was trying to cheer you up.
Just as you were about to answer, the door swung open.
“We need help over here. Quick!”, you heard Neville shouting.
You exchanged a frightened glance with Lavender before you jumped up and ran up to him.
Many people had already gathered around the returnees. You fought your way through the people.
That´s when you saw it. Neville and a Ravenclaw boy were carrying a third person. His face was disfigured beyond recognition, full of blood, just as well as his clothes. For a second you were wondering if the person was even breathing, but then a small whimper escaped their lips. And that´s when you realized who it was. It was Seamus.
As if you had been petrified, you watched Neville carrying him to his bed, carefully laying him down.
“We need to vet him.”, Neville said. His gaze fell on you. “(Y/n), what are you waiting for?”
You still didn´t move. Aberforth had shown you some tricks on how to help people who had been hurt and you had already doctored several people. But never Seamus. Never someone who meant that much to you. Someone you were scared to lose more than anyone else. And the way he looked made you doubt there was anything you could do to help him.
“(Y/n), quick!”
And that´s when your body started working on autopilot. You grabbed the tinctures and ointments you had stolen from the hospital wing -even though you were pretty sure that Madame Pomfrey hadn´t locked the medication away that day on purpose- and headed over to Seamus.
You didn’t know how long you had been sitting there, cleaning up his wounds, stitching him up, treating the scars with ointments and spells. All you knew was that in the end, you were sure Seamus would make it. He was still unconscious which was, in your opinion, not even that bad. At least he wouldn’t be in pain. You double-checked if you had done everything correctly before you sat down on the edge of his bed and looked down at the boy. He looked so peaceful the way he was laying there, unaware of the horror his friends had been through because of him in the last few hours.
Your gaze fell on your hands. While you had freed Seamus from all the blood, your hands were still red. Your vision went blurry and your hands started to shake as the realisation set in. You could have lost him today. Quickly, you grabbed a towel and tried to get rid of the blood on your hands, rubbing them furiously, until your skin wasn’t red because of the blood but because of the rough treatment.
“Are you okay?”, you heard a soft voice.
You looked up and looked into Neville´s worried eyes.
“He will make it.”
“That´s not what I asked you.”
“I´m fine.”
“Are you sure.”
“I said I´m fine, Neville!”, you snapped, your voice louder than you had intended.
A small groan escaped the lips of the boy lying in the bed and you regretted your tone immediately as you looked at Seamus worriedly, before turning around to Neville again.
“I´m sorry, I… It´s just…”
You felt an uncomfortable tingling in your arms and legs and somehow there was a ringing in your ear, that got louder and louder. You clenched your jaw to prevent your lips from shaking like your hands already did.
“Don’t worry (Y/n). It´s alright. I know how much he means to you.”
In every other situation you would have felt your cheeks redden now, but today all you could do was nodding.
“What happened?”, you asked, trying to distract yourself.
Neville grabbed a chair that was standing nearby and sat down.
“It was a trap. There was no one in the dungeons except for the Carrows and some of their followers. Crabbe and Goyle. All those people, you know?” In a low voice, he told you how they had been trying to fight their way out and how Seamus got hurt so bad. “If it wasn’t for him,”, Neville closed his report and looked at Seamus, “we wouldn’t have made it out of there. He saved us.”
You just nodded and a small smile appeared on your face. Seamus had saved the day once more. You just hoped that the price he had to pay for this wouldn’t be too high one day.
It was already night. The other students had already gone to bed, but you were still sitting on Seamus´ side. When you had been hurt, he hadn’t left you alone and neither would you. A few hours ago, Aberforth came here, looking for Seamus. He had praised your work, telling you he couldn’t have done it any better. Even though you highly doubted that it had still made you smile.
Seamus was still unconscious. In the subdued light of the remaining lamps, his bruises looked even worse. You had intertwined your fingers with his, making sure every minute that you could still feel his pulse and hear his breath. When you looked down at him, you couldn’t help but smile. When Seamus would wake up, he would probably pride himself on all the bruises he had now, making sure everyone would know how he had gotten them. But that was the least he deserved after everything he had done for all of you. Carefully, you brushed some strands of his messy sandy-coloured hair out of his face. If it wasn’t for the blood on his uniform, it wouldn’t look more messy than usual. His Gryffindor tie, which he was still wearing proudly, hang loosely around his neck and the upper button of his shirt remained open. If Professor McGonagall would see him like this, she would take some points from him immediately. But probably not nearly as many as she would give him for his bravery, even though she would probably call it sheer luck that he hadn’t been killed today. And she wouldn’t even be wrong with that. Once more, you realized, how close you had been to losing Seamus today.
“I´m so sorry.”, you whispered into the silence. “I´m so sorry that happened to you. All of this. You don’t deserve this. And I wasn’t there. I should have been. I could´ve helped you. If you… if you wouldn’t have made it today…” The words got stuck in your throat as you felt your eyes starting to sting. “I don’t know what I would do without you. It´s just… I don’t want to lose you. I can´t.” You felt the first tear rolling down your cheek. “I love you, Seamus, you know that? I love you. I think I always did. It just took me some time to realize. And even more time to admit. But I know I don’t want to spend one day of my life without you. Do you remember in our fifth year, when we fought about that you didn’t believe Harry, but I did? I didn’t speak to you for two weeks.” A sad smile appeared on your face. “That´s been the worst time of my life. Just not being able to be near you. And when you came up to apologize, I have been so pissed I brushed you off at first. But you know what? That wasn’t because I was mad at you. It was because I had been scared I might have lost you. And I didn’t want to feel that ever again. And I thought maybe it´s better if we wouldn’t be so close anymore, but that was stupid. That was so stupid. I want to be close to you. More than ever. And just because I´m scared to lose you I shouldn’t push you away from me. You know what´s funny? I kept doing this even when we were friends again. Because I don’t want to be just friends with you anymore. I want to be more. But I am so scared to tell you because I don’t want to lose what we have. But now that I have nearly actually lost you, I realized that I don’t care. I want you to know. And if you don’t want this it´s okay. But I need you to know. I love you, Seamus. I love you so much.”
Your voice broke and a small sob escaped your throat.
Suddenly, you felt your hand being squeezed tightly. You nearly jumped up in shock, as you looked up at Seamus. As far as you could see in the dim light, he still looked pale, but he grinned at you nevertheless.
 “Merlin, you have scared me.”, you gasped.
Seamus chuckled but then he pulled a face in pain. You looked at him worriedly.
“How are you?”
“Only hurts when I breathe.” His voice sounded raspy. “But from what I just heard this was worth it.”
You felt your face flush.
“You weren’t supposed to hear that.”, you mumbled, avoiding eye contact.
“I thought you wanted me to know.”
“But not like this. This was so cheesy. And I know we are just friends and I didn’t mean to…”
“I love you too (Y/n).”, Seamus interrupted you.
You lifted your head and stared at him in disbelieve.
“What?”
“I love you too.”, the boy said with a wry smile.
You still stared at him, not sure what to do, since you hadn’t foreseen this.
“I think this is the part where you´re supposed to kiss me.”, Seamus said, the grin on his face only widened as he saw you blushing. He tried to sit up in his bed, but flinched in pain, sinking down into his pillow again.
And as you bent down and your lips softly brushed against his, all your worries and all the embarrassment was gone. The way his skin felt on yours just felt too right to leave any room for doubts.
When you pulled back, you smiled at him shyly, his eyes interlocked with yours. Your lips ghosted over the bruises on his skin you had just doctored a few hours ago and his rough hands were tangled in your hair.
“Stay tonight.”, Seamus asked you, looking up at you with puppy eyes.
You couldn’t help but laugh.
“I will.”, you smiled. “As long as you want me to.”
And when you laid down next to him, his arm wasn’t around your shoulder but around your waist and he didn’t just lay there but pulled you closer to him. He placed his hand on your upper arm, drawing small circles on your bare skin, giving you chills.
“Maybe I should get tortured more often.”, Seamus joked and you rolled your eyes.
“I won´t heal you next time.”
“You won´t?”
“Well, maybe I might.”
Taglist: @marigold-morelli @writingwitch007
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sofya-fanfics · 1 year
Text
Hello Merlin
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Fandom : Merlin
Relationship : Merlin x Arthur
My Fluffy February 2023 contribution for the prompt : Hello.
I’m sorry for the mistakes, English is not my native language. I hope you like it.
Summary : Arthur parked in front of the hospital. It was a small hospital in a small village on the English coast. He took a deep breath and entered. He had been waiting for this moment for two years. In comparison to all those centuries Merlin had waited for him, two years was a short time.
Disclaimer : Merlin belongs to Julian Jones, Jake Michie, Johnny Capps and Julian Murphy.
@fluffyfebruary​​​​​
AO3 / FF.NET
Arthur parked in front of the hospital. It was a small hospital in a small village on the English coast. Only a few hundred inhabitants lived here, there were only a few shops, a school and this hospital. But Arthur saw that this was the kind of village that was good to live in.
He took a deep breath and entered. He had been waiting for this moment for two years. In comparison to all those centuries Merlin had waited for him, two years was a short time. He perfectly remembered that day when he saw Merlin again.
In this world, Arthur was called Dean and he had become a police officer. It had been a year since he went to criminal. By becoming a police officer, he wanted to change things. He wanted a fairer world and to protect those who needed it. That day, he was about to solve a case, but things had gone wrong. The suspect had tried to escape and had shot him. He could feel death approaching and he was terrified. He did not want to die, not now, not like this. He felt a presence near him. Hands resting on his wound trying to stop the bleeding and a voice saying to him :
“It'll be OK. You'll be fine Arthur.”
Why did this person call him Arthur ? He opened his eyes with difficulty and everything he saw was blurry. He could make out a figure above him. He guessed it was a man, but he could not see the features of his face. He heard him mutter something he did not understand. It was as if he spoke a foreign language. Strangely, Dean knew that everything was going to be fine. He closed his eyes and everything went black. He woke up in a hospital bed two days later. It had been explained to him that his bleeding had been contained thanks to a stranger. Without this man, he would not be alive.
That was when he started having strange dreams. His dreams took place in a medieval fantasy world where magic was common. He always dreamed about the same people. Uther, Guinevere, Morgana, Gaius and especially Merlin. These were familiar names that he had studied their stories years ago when he was in high school. But his dreams seemed far too real to be mere dreams.
He had come to understand that these were memories of a past life where he had been Arthur Pendragon. He had not told anyone about it. They would take him for a madman if he claimed to be King Arthur. As the centuries went by, magic was no longer visible to the eyes of people, most did not believe in it. Himself, before recovering his memories, found it ridiculous. His real name, as well as those of his family and friends, had become characters in legends in which many writers have written about it. But in the end, neither of them knew what really happened. No one really knew him or knew Merlin.
Deep down, Arthur knew that the man who had saved him was none other than Merlin. So he had investigated for two years. He had finally found him in this small village. He was a nurse and he called himself John Smith. In this place, with such an ordinary name, he was sure to go unnoticed.
Arthur went to the reception. He asked to see John Smith and he headed for the waiting room. He could not sit up, he was way too nervous. He was pacing. He almost wanted to laugh. It was the first time he had been so nervous about seeing Merlin. But centuries had passed and after saving his life, Merlin had done everything for not to be found. Arthur was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard footsteps behind him.
“I was told you wanted to see me ?”
Arthur turned round. Merlin opened his eyes wide before pulling himself together. It had barely lasted a second, but Arthur had seen the surprise in his eyes.
“Hello Merlin.”
Arthur almost laughed but caught himself, seeing Merlin's look on his face.
“What...I...Excuse me ?”
“I remember everything. My memories came back when I was in the hospital two years ago. You were there. It was you who saved me.”
Arthur smiled.
“As always.”
Merlin grinned from ear to ear. He had never been so happy.
“I've been waiting for this moment for so long.”
Merlin walked over to Arthur and hugged him. Arthur wrapped his arms around him and hold him tight. They pulled away slightly and kissed. It was as if nothing existed around them. As if time had stopped and the centuries that had separated them had never existed. They were no longer John and Dean. They were Merlin and Arthur again. They knew that now nothing could separate them.
Centuries ago, Arthur had died in Merlin's arms and it was in his arms that he was coming back to life.
The end
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posswrites · 2 years
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It Feels Like This - Chapter 2
"Does Romilda really want me to ask her to the party?" Harry whispered, sliding over next to Hermione on the common room couch after dinner. His voice came in a whisper, but it made her jump, her quill making a rogue line next to her writing.
"Harry!" she quickly scolded with a huff. "I miss pens."
"You still would have done that with a pen."
Hermione's eyes narrowed before she grabbed her wand and uttered a quick spell to erase the last word she'd been working on. "Yes, she really wants to ask you. But you can't go with her."
"Why not?"
She looked around to make sure no one was close enough to hear. "Because you need to go with me," she whispered.
"I'm sorry?"
"Look, do you want to do this plan right or not?"
A smirk appeared on Harry's face. "That's how you planned on asking me, then?"
"What? No, I-... I was counting on you asking me!"
"How did you expect me to ask you if I didn't know I was supposed to?"
Hermione opened her mouth, but closed it. "Okay, that's… fair. Well, now you know, so…"
"Oh, come on, Hermione… you got asked to the Yule Ball!"
"Because the boys are supposed to ask the girls."
"And you of all people don't think it's okay for the girl to ask?"
"We're not going to sit here and fight about who should ask who, Harry."
"Okay, then, just ask me." He lowered his voice again. "Look, Ron doesn't suspect a thing, does he? You'll need to be more direct. Ginny will catch on."
Hermione groaned, but she knew Harry was right. She quickly looked around the common room to see who was paying attention. Ron looked like he was doodling in his notes that were spread out on a nearby table. "So, Harry," she started, a little louder than normal, just to make sure she could be heard over the quiet murmur of students, "I was just wondering if you'd like to go to Slughorn's Christmas party with me. There's… really no one else I'd rather go with." She batted her eyelashes playfully, and Harry almost chuckled, but he kept it together.
"Of course, Hermione. I'd be honored to go with you."
A few pairs of eyes from around the room glanced from the couple to Ron, who was pretending not to glare directly at the back of Harry's head, before going back to minding their own business.
Hermione did feel bad for asking Harry, knowing this was part of her own agenda and it made him unable to ask anyone, but he didn't seem to mind, no matter how many times she brought it up over the next few days as the event grew closer. They couldn't talk about it much, as Ron had been sticking around them more, telling them that Lavender was "busy" that day, so he could hang out with them, and it always seemed like he settled himself between them on couches or during meals or walked between them in the hallway. Was it working this quickly? Was Ron already jealous?
Still, she did want to dress up, and the last time she'd gone to a party, it hadn't gone well at all, so she hoped to redeem herself with this one by going with Harry, like she probably should have done before to save herself the heartache. She curled her hair and put on a little makeup. Not that she was trying to impress Harry necessarily, but she didn't want to be plain like she normally was. Ginny was going with Dean after all, and had even helped her get ready, though she tried not to read into her slight unwillingness to talk as direct anger.
Harry tried not to make too much small talk with Dean while they were waiting for the girls. Everyone else was at dinner, but they'd be eating at the party, so it was just the two of them, sitting on separate couches. He hadn't really gotten a chance to talk to Dean much in the past few years; even though they were in some of the same classes, they had their own friends and weren't much more than acquaintances who passed each other in the halls.
"So…" Dean started once the silence began to get awkward, "you and Hermione, huh?"
Harry had barely even paid attention to the fact that he was talking. "What? Oh… er… we're just going as friends, that's all. I just figured it would be fun since… well, I just figured it would be fun. And she asked me, so I wasn't going to say no."
"Oh, well, that's a shame, I suppose. You two would make a pretty good couple, I think. Not that… you can't just be friends, of course, but I could see it."
"She fancies Ron." Why on Earth did he tell him that?
"Really?"
Harry nodded.
"Huh."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing! Nothing at all, I just don't… I can't see it, that's all. Her and Ron. Isn't he always wanting to copy her homework? And they fight all the time, don't they?"
"They've been doing that for years. That's… kind of their thing, I guess." Though it didn't make any sense to Harry, either.
"Well, what about Lavender? How's she taking that?"
Harry shifted in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable with talking about Hermione's love life with Dean. "Not well, frankly. But is anyone?" he tried to joke, and found Dean laughing along with him.
"That's fair. Honestly, I don't know how he can stand her. I mean, she's a decent girl, I suppose, but… she's not what I'd go for in a relationship, you know? She seems a little… clingy."
"And Ginny's not?"
The smile on Dean's face fell, and Harry immediately felt guilty for ruining the moment of camaraderie. "Honestly, Harry, I'm not even sure if we're together anymore. Officially, anyway."
"Not together? I heard McGonagall getting onto you the other day for snogging in the hallway!" Not that he was the one that had told on them.
Dean shrugged. "I know. It's… weird? It's great, but we've been fighting a lot and I just don't feel like she's into it anymore. Maybe she's just hanging on for looks. I dunno."
Harry's heart gave a small flutter of hope, though he tried not to show it. He'd have to talk to Hermione about it later. "I'm sorry to hear that. Have you talked to her? Maybe she's feeling the same way." Why he was giving relationship advice to the man who was currently dating the girl he had a crush on, he didn't know, but deep down, he wanted Ginny to be happy, even if that didn't necessarily mean it was with him. If he was meant to be with her, he would. He wasn't going to break them up just to steal her out from underneath him.
"Not yet," he admitted. "But I will. Maybe that's it and this is all just a misunderstanding. Misreading of signals. Thanks, Harry."
Harry was about to respond when Ginny and Hermione appeared from the dorm, and he quickly stood, suddenly wishing Hogwarts held more dances.
"You look incredible," he grinned. "Both of you." And even though he instinctually moved to Ginny first before realizing that no, she wasn't his date, he couldn't stop his eyes from shifting to Hermione. The light pink dress she was wearing wasn't as elegant as the one she wore to the Yule Ball, but it still fit her very well and was cut low enough that he had to consciously keep his eyes from wandering.
She moved a hand up to fix a rogue strand of hair, fidgeting under Harry's gaze as a blush crept up her neck. "Thanks," she muttered. "So do you."
Ginny suddenly cleared her throat, moving between them to take Dean's hand. "Are we ready to go, then?"
Hermione looked to Harry's hand and back up, not sure what to do, but Harry nodded at Ginny. "Yeah, yeah. Let's… go." He could tell Hermione was nervous, though he wasn't sure exactly about what, but he rested a hand on her back, making sure it was over her dress, as they made their way out through the portrait and down the stairs.
The silence on the way to the party was thick, and the friendliness they'd shared just a few minutes earlier was long gone. Hermione kept glancing sideways at Harry and trying not to say something in fear she'd scare everyone, but this wasn't normal. Not for them. Then, Hermione seemed to have an idea.
She pulled out her wand and muttered a quick "Muffliato" on herself and Harry before letting out a sigh. "Why is this so awkward, Harry?" she whispered. Ginny turned around quickly, and Harry pretended not to notice the almost hurt look she gave him, knowing they were having a secret conversation. She stepped a little closer to Dean as she looked back forward.
"Because we're going to this Christmas party with the wrong people?" he offered.
"No, we're okay. I'm… actually really glad I'm going with you. It's… them. And us. Like they don't want to be here. Ginny barely spoke to me while we were getting ready."
"I don't think she really wanted to come with Dean," Harry admitted. "He said they've been fighting a lot lately. And for what it's worth, I'm happy that you're my date, too. It would have probably been a nightmare taking anyone else."
Hermione looked down shyly at her feet, and for a few seconds, the only sound in the corridor was their shoes against the floor. "I was about to ask Cormac as a last resort."
Harry huffed out a laugh. "Seriously?!"
"What? I thought it would annoy Ron the most. I'm not… I don't want this plan to ruin your friendship with him, Harry, I hope you know that. If… if he even likes me and he sees you moving in, I-"
"Hey." His hand slipped around her waist, pulling her close as they walked. "It won't. I know. Same with you and Ginny, yeah? Anything gets hostile, we'll call it off."
Her head leaned briefly on his shoulder. "Deal."
***
"Ms. Weasley, Mr. Thomas, Ms. Granger, Mr. Potter! So glad you all were able to join us tonight!" Slughorn, who looked like he may have had a little bit too much mead already, greeted them as soon as they got inside. The room had been transformed with red and gold fabric draped on the ceiling to resemble a tent, with twinkling lights throughout. There were tables and curtained-off spaces for privacy, and students bringing around snacks and drinks; a much better place to spend the evening than the Great Hall. Ginny's hand almost immediately dropped from Dean's as she veered off to talk to someone else, and Hermione nudged him quickly.
"Go after her. I'll get us drinks." She knew he would feel bad if he left his date alone, even if they weren't really there together, but she'd be all right. Once Harry was gone, she looked around quickly. There had to be someone else she knew there.
"Ginny, wait up," he called softly. She turned around to look at him with a somewhat annoyed look on her face. "Are you okay?"
"Fine," she answered, seeming to be looking past him. "Did you need something?"
Harry frowned. "I was just… you kind of went off in a hurry, so I just wanted to make sure that you were all right..."
"I'm fine, Harry," she repeated. "You came here with Hermione - you don't need to keep an eye on me."
"I didn't… come with Hermione, we're just…"
"That wasn't how you looked at her. And it's not how Dean looks at me." She bit her lip. "I'm sorry, Harry, I just… I'm a little overwhelmed right now and I'd like to take a minute to myself, that's all," she continued after a deep breath to calm herself. "I promise I'm okay, really. I'll meet up with you later. I'm sure there aren't many other cool people here to talk to anyway." A soft grin came over Ginny's face and she seemed to be genuine as she reached out to squeeze his hand.
"Not with Snape here, at least," he replied, to which Ginny couldn't help but let out a laugh, though her smile didn't reach her eyes.
"That's true. I'll see you later." She squeezed his hand again before disappearing into the crowd. Then, something swished out of the corner of his eye, and when he turned to look, Hermione was trying to hide in one of the curtained rooms. That couldn't be good.
"Hermione, what are you doing?" he asked with a smirk. She was holding a small glass of mead in each hand. "Those aren't both for you, are they?"
"No!" Hermione replied incredulously. "No, I… was getting them for us and Cormac cornered me, thinking I'd gotten one for him."
"What did you tell him?"
"I told him I was with you." She handed Harry one of the glasses before taking a sip out of hers.
"And what did he say?"
"He didn't believe me."
Harry almost snorted out his drink. "Is that a good thing?"
"No idea, but he tried to catch me under the mistletoe."
"Look, just the other day, you were complaining about not having anyone ask you to the party, and now you're complaining that someone wants to kiss you?" he teased.
"It's just him," she insisted, looking around again to make sure he hadn't followed her. "If you wanted to kiss me, I wouldn't mind." Harry smirked again, raising his eyebrows until Hermione realized what she said. "Not… not like that, Harry, I just meant… I don't know." She downed her drink and her eyes widened. "Here he comes. Take my waist."
Harry quickly pulled Hermione close with his free hand, leaning against the wall next to her and trying to make it not awkward, which was a feat in itself. A few seconds later, Cormac pushed open the sheer material to stick his head in.
"Oh," he frowned, "you really did come here with him." He paused, looking between them.
"Is there something we can help you with? We're trying to get a bit of privacy, if you don't mind." Harry tightened his grip on Hermione instinctively.
"Weird."
Suddenly, another head popped into the curtains with them, accompanied by a tray of food. "Hey, I thought I saw you two!" Neville beamed.
"Neville? You're working the party?" Harry asked with a smile, suddenly acutely aware of how close he was standing to Hermione, but he wasn't going to back down for Cormac. Neville looked between them, then to Cormac, but otherwise didn't seem to think anything of it.
"Yeah. I wasn't technically invited since I didn't get into the Slug Club, but that's okay. I still got to be here. He's got Belby handing out towels in the loo, so I'd much rather do this. Dragon tartare?" he offered.
"Yeah, sure!" Cormac excitedly took a few and popped him into his mouth all at once.
Hermione's brow furrowed. "Well, that's attractive," she quipped. Harry snickered.
"Oh, you'll want to watch those, Cormac. They can give you terrible breath," Neville said with a wink at Hermione. "Anyway, you three have fun."
Before Neville could leave the curtain, Cormac looked at the two of them with wide eyes and darted out, leaving Harry and Hermione in a fit of laughter.
"Did you see his face? Totally deserved it."
"Thank you for… um… you know… keeping him away from me."
"Of course. Anytime. I figured it'd be good for me to get to protect you every once in a while, too," he teased.
And even though they were already close, not having moved from their spots, Hermione leaned her head on his shoulder again, grateful to have Harry as her best friend.
She'd known they'd be friends since first year, of course, when they defeated Voldemort the first time. It was comical to think about now, how they thought they were done with him that quickly. But no matter what, Harry had always been by her side. He stuck up for her when no one else would, he seemed to care more about her feelings than any of her friends, she could talk to him about Muggle things and he would actually understand. It had made her feel loads better at Slughorn's first dinner party talking about her parents when she'd looked over to see Harry laughing and smiling at her stories. He'd been the one to figure out her basilisk clues in second year, and he was quick to follow her lead with the Time Turner, and it really made her think about how he'd always blindly trusted her. He knew she knew what she was doing, and he never doubted her, which was more than she could say about a lot of people in her life.
"Come on. Let's get back to the party."
Hermione nodded, pulling away from Harry and moving to part the curtains for them. "Did you find Ginny?"
"Yeah," he said with a frown. "She… was really upset, actually, but I'm not sure what about. I couldn't really make sense of it."
"Speak of the devil," Hermione muttered as she saw Ginny breaking through the crowd towards them. "She's been crying again."
"Yeah," Harry sighed. Had he been the one to cause it this time? He swallowed thickly as she approached. "Hey, Ginny. I was just going to come find you, actually. Um… I think dancing's about to start and I wanted to ask you if you'd like to join me for the first one."
Ginny's eyes flitted between Harry and Hermione. "Aren't you going to dance with her? You can't do the first dance with someone who's not your date," she said with a soft chuckle, but Harry shrugged.
"Well, eventually, yeah, but… I wanted to ask you first." He didn't have a good excuse; he knew that. But he hoped Ginny would understand, or at least play along, especially after what happened earlier.
Ginny sighed softly, but a smile graced her face. "I… I'd like that. Sorry, Hermione."
"I'll dance with him later. It's all right," she teased. "Meanwhile, I might try to offer Cormac some more Dragon tartare." She waved to them with a laugh before walking off.
Harry took a breath - this was his chance. For a few minutes, he could be selfish and get to have Ginny all to himself. No Hermione, no Ron, no pretending. He didn't want to be the first one out onto the dance floor, and he hoped he'd gotten at least a little less awkward when it came to dancing in the past two years. Luckily, Slughorn, unsurprisingly, was the first one to take the floor with the first professor he could find, which led to a couple more students following suit.
He offered his hand to Ginny, who took it with a shy smile as they headed with the rest of the group. Hermione was watching him closely from the sidelines, ready to provide some magical intervention if Harry started struggling, but she couldn't help feeling weird that she was on the wall while her date was dancing with someone else. When she peered about the room, Dean was doing the same, seemingly uninterested in dancing at all. No wonder Ginny had been upset. Then again, were they even together? Hermione mentally sighed - relationships were too complicated; that's why she didn't do any of this.
Dancing with Ginny wasn't nearly as awkward as Harry had anticipated (or feared), for which he was thankful. The songs weren't too slow, so the weirdest part for him was just being so close to her. And trying to figure out where to put his hands took a couple seconds at first, until she let out a laugh and moved one to her waist, taking the other.
"Have you never done this before, Harry?"
"Er... not really, no," he admitted with a laugh of his own. "You saw me at the Yule Ball."
"I did, yeah. It was very… entertaining."
She'd been watching him?
"It's not like we get a lot of opportunities."
"I know," Ginny responded, "but you're doing pretty well right now." She lifted his arm up so she could spin around underneath it before moving back closer to him with a grin.
"Well, you're pretty easy to dance with." Harry thought he caught a faint blush color Ginny's cheeks, but she just laughed again.
"So are you. Why haven't we done this earlier?"
Harry swallowed, searching her face for any ulterior meaning, but he couldn't be sure. She had gotten very good at hiding her expressions when she wanted to. "I have no idea," he answered, and Ginny grinned.
They danced and talked and laughed and twirled through a few songs before Ginny was tapped on the shoulder by none other than Hermione, who cleared her throat softly as Ginny turned around.
"Can I cut in?" she asked, her eyes flicking up to Harry's.
"Oh, of course!" Ginny was quick to answer, and Harry reluctantly released her from his arms. "Thanks for the dancing, Harry."
"Anytime…" He took a second to remember that Hermione had wanted to dance with him, and moved to take her hand when a voice slid into the air behind him.
"Potter," Snape began, "I have a message to deliver to you. Ms. Granger, if you could give us a moment."
"Of course, Professor," she whispered, giving Harry a sorrowful look before heading off with Ginny, whispering between themselves.
Once they were out of earshot, Snape began again, his eyes glancing around at the other patrons to make sure no one was listening in. "Professor Dumbledore wishes you his best and he hopes you enjoy your holiday. You see, he's… traveling. And he won't return until term resumes."
"Traveling where?"
Snape didn't seem too interested in answering, but he was saved from more of Harry's questions by a commotion at the entrance.
"Get your hands off me, you filthy Squib!"
Malfoy. Snape immediately headed that way, and Harry was glad Snape couldn't see him roll his eyes.
"Professor Slughorn, sir," Filch began as a crowd started to gather. "I just found this boy lurking in an upstairs corridor. He claims he was invited to your party." He had a struggling Malfoy by the sleeve, and Harry lingered back as to not seem too interested.
"Okay, okay! I was gate-crashing! Happy?"
"I'll escort him out," Snape drawled.
"Certainly… Professor," Malfoy answered in a manner that made the hair on the back of Harry's neck stand on end.
It was a few awkward seconds before Slughorn finally broke the silence with an, "Alright, everyone, carry on. Carry on."
But Harry knew he needed to follow them.
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dadstielkline · 2 years
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autistic castiel
first of all everyone sees castiel as weird. not just dean but other angels as well. they always say something about cas being abnormal, having a crack in his chassis, he's not like the others.
ive been told that i stare too much and that I don't make enough eye contact. castiel is no different. he always seems very confused by what the proper amount of eye contact during conversation is because it's a stupid fucking made up rule, if you're talking to me I'll listen whether i look at you or not he has a special interest in humanity. he finds humans very fascinating. better than his own angel brothers and sisters sometimes and feels an urge to protect them. he's also very fond of bees and beekeeping. it was something he found very fascinating and he kept wanting to share it with everyone he came across even though nobody really cared to listen to him except meg. his trenchcoat is clearly a comfort item. he wears it all the time and the only time he ever took it off was to wash it clean. and when his coat was missing, he immediately got a new trenchcoat for himself. his comfort food is peanut butter and jelly. it was something he first ate as a human and he was clearly very upset he couldn't taste it anymore. he doesn't understand figures of speech or slang. the most common example was when sam mentioned they'd need a guinea pig and castiel legitimately thought  sam had a guinea. you see him misuse and misunderstand phrases a lot. especially the phrases dean uses because for an autistic person dean really doesn't make sense half the time unless you know what he is talking about. i think this would be true for a neurotypical person too however because dean often likes using obscure references as well. he fears rejection from the winchesters and doesn't know how to read the signs that they love him and want him to stay. which is one of the (many) reasons why they should have outright told him that he was important to their family and loved instead of letting him think he was a useful tool or a burden to have around. he will sometimes imitate things that he has seen other people do. like when he is interrogating a woman for the death of her husband, he imitates what he has seen cops on TV do. jack also does this a lot and perhaps someday ill talk about why I think they're autistic too and why they and cas are the best autistic father/child duo to ever exist. he has no concept of personal space. even after dean explains it to him he still crowds into dean's space. i suspect this is because dean is a comfort person. he feels safe near dean. he does this most often with dean of course but he does it at various times with others like sam or jack. these are people he loves and feels the most comfortable around so it makes sense that he wants to be close to them. he doesn't understand when people are flirting. multiple times. he didn't understand that the waitress was hitting on him. he thought it was normal for dean to ask him to unbutton his shirt. he didn't know mick was flirting with him when he gave him his number and i'm going to refrain from talking about how if he had known mick was flirting, they would have had the healthiest and gayest relationship on the show. we were so robbed. i see myself in castiel which makes him canon autistic and if that's not a good enough reason, misha collins himself even calls autistic castiel canon too.
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pineapple-lover-boy · 3 years
Text
Omg I just saw this comment on Instagram head canoning that Dean Thomas could be the son of Regulus Black, here this out:
Dean was most likely older than most of the class (probably born around when Hermione was born, September 19, 1979). We don’t know Regulus’ death date but it was in the year 1979. This means that Regulus would’ve most likely been alive when Dean was conceived as it would’ve been around late 1978 or early 1979 when Dean was conceived.
He is most likely older than most of the class because he was not one of the students listed that couldn’t take the apparition during 6th year, so he had to have been older than most of the class and born in 1979.
Their theory states that:
Regulus joined the death eaters
Met Dean’s mother
Fell in love with her
Conceived Dean
Then placed a charm on Dean’s mother (similar if not exactly he one Hermione placed on her parents) so that she wouldn’t remember him
And then he went off and died
This is my own variation:
I don’t believe Regulus would’ve told any muggle about the wizarding world unless he was already married to them, despite knowing that that would never happen
This is because it’s common practice to marry a muggle and then tell them
It also would’ve been safer for her
(This was mentioned in the post but I’m going elaborate more)
It was mentioned how at around 18/19 are when most people at that time had children (Lily and James, presumably Molly and Arthur) so it wouldn’t be too weird to consider Regulus having a child at that time
But I want to propose something else
I think he wanted Dean
Let me explain:
There was a war going on
It’s my own personal head canon that most had their children right out of Hogwarts so that they could continue their bloodline should they die
(Lucius and Narcissa didn’t need to do this, having Draco at around 25-27, because they thought they were on the winning side, in fact, Voldemort was winning at the time so they had no need to have a child earlier)
I believe that Regulus, starting to slowly change his views, knew that his end was near
He also knew that apart from his brother, who never seemed interested in relationships (not just for Wolfstar but in actual canon) so he realized that to continue his bloodline he would need to have a child
He didn’t want to have a child with someone on Voldemort’s side because they would raise the child to be prejudiced
He couldn’t on the good side either as they either knew he was a death eater or suspected it due to his family’s reputation of being blood supremacists
And plus, if he was seen conversing with someone on the opposite side then the whole thing would’ve been wasted as he would be tortured and killed soon after
His only option would then be a muggle
He probably didn’t like the idea at first but as time went on he began to realize that he had to find someone soon
If some are confused or need some more details; despite him starting to change, family would still be important to him
It isn’t easy for someone to throw away everything they’ve ever known so I believe that he would’ve still cared about his family line continuing
Anyways, he probably found Dean’s mother on a whim
I doubt he would’ve cared which muggle carried his child
But I do believe that in trying to coax her into falling in love with him (he’s a handsome Black so it would’ve been easy, and he wouldn’t use a love potion because it was most likely known the affects of conceiving under one) he fell in love, or at least had some affection for her himself
Which would give him more reason to not tell her about the wizarding world
Then as the time came for him to go to the cave, he sent a letter to her, as he does
Just one final goodbye disguised as a normal one sided conversation of his day, his hopes, and his love and affection towards her
And if he had lived? I still doubt he would tell her, even after the war ending
He would most likely just want to get away from his parents, the imprisonment of his brother, and the rejoicing done by so many
He would stay by Dean’s mother and help raise the boy
Perhaps Dean’s sisters could’ve been Regulus’s in that timeline
He would surely have lots of explaining to do when Dean got his letter (as a teacher wouldn’t go there, even if he was hiding it would have at least been known to the faculty at Hogwarts that Dean was Regulus’s child)
I do believe, though, that he would have died when Voldemort came back
Way in the beginning
He would’ve been chased down and killed for disobeying Voldemort and living a muggle life with a muggle wife and half blood/squib children
If he was a other his family then they (squibs or children not old enough) would’ve died with him and only caused Dean to fight against Voldemort more
It would’ve also created more of a drift between him and Seamus as Seamus was someone who believed Harry was lying about Voldemort
I believe it’s a very interesting head canon and I fully support it.
The original theory was by gods_quill on Instagram under a post by weasleytwins that talked about how Dean’s canonical father was killed by Voldemort, leaving Dean and his mother behind and leading them to believe he was muggleborn.
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traincat · 3 years
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I know the comic piracy debate is a never-ending cycle, but in India where I live, you can't get western comics (or manga for that matter). There aren't comic book stores. Sometimes on Amazon you can find collected editions worth more than INR 1000 at least, for the paperbacks. Most older collections, even from the early 2000s, will be upwards of INR 6000. And sure, it's because the exchange value is so low for Indian rupees, but that's still a LOT of money to Indian citizens. You can get digital editions of random odd issues for approx. INR 150, so that's there. But overall it's really a huge investment to buy a physical comic. So yes, I pirate. But I get so guilty when this debate rolls around, every time. I just don't see any other alternative.
I debated whether or not to answer this considering I haven't really addressed the comics piracy issue before so I'm not sure I'm the right account to talk about it, and also because my askbox is not a confessional and I am not a priest, but then some Spider-Man news broke that I feels ties into it this so whatever, we're going for it. The comics piracy debate comes up every couple of months and will probably continue to come up every couple of months until forever and all of these points have been stated before by others because nothing in this debate is new. First things first, you shouldn't feel guilty. I'm going to suggest actually that nobody should feel guilty, unless you are like, a millionaire and you're exclusively pirating indie books. The prices you're quoting are prohibitively expensive but I have some unfortunate news for everyone involved: the prices are really bad in the US, too. If you want good collected editions, especially in hardcover, they're going to run at similar if not quite equal prices. Comics have gone from a cheap hobby to an overwhelmingly expensive hobby.
This is a good article comparing to the cover costs of American comics since the 1960s adjusted for inflation which I think puts some things in perspective. Comics currently cost roughly $5 USD per issue, which doesn't sound that bad, even though most of my monthly streaming services are roughly that price for a whole month's access to a library of content. But it only doesn't sound that bad if you're not buying special issues (the Marvel Pride book retailed for $10), and if you're only reading one or two books a month. The problem is, American superhero comics are specifically designed so you're not reading just one or two books per month -- this is why we have events! And crossovers! Not for the story potential but because it forces the consumer to purchase more product. This is why there's constantly an event running with a checklist of tie-in issues in the back. So now you're spending probably at least $20 a month. If you're a fan with a lot of interest in different titles, and in different publishers, this can easily hit triple USD digits. It's a money pit. It's not affordable to most people. And this is where that new Spider-Man news comes in, because it was announced today that Amazing Spider-Man is going back to a thrice monthly schedule like it used to operate on during Brand New Day. Which sounds good at first -- more comics, yay -- until you realize that's probably going to be $15 USD a month for a one title. That's $180 a year for one title, not including annuals or special issues. That's not feasible for a lot of fans -- young fans, poor fans, fans with other financial obligations etc. And most people aren't reading just one title. I don't know how the X-Men fans are currently financing their Krakoa habit and I'm afraid to ask. There are services like Marvel Unlimited, which make things slightly more affordable, but I imagine the wait for newer issues to hit the service can be alienating for some fans who want to join in current discussions, the library has some incredibly massive holes in it which is unacceptable when it's coming from inside the mouse house, and I believe, although I could be wrong, that it is not available in all countries. Comics are no longer an easily accessible hobby, if you're paying for everything you read.
"But the creatives deserve to get paid" is the common argument and yeah, they do, I'm not arguing that point. They should absolutely get paid and they should get well. I'm a writer, I'm a published writer even, and I want to be a published novelist, and I definitely want to get paid, and I'm reserving the right to be a complete hypocrite about this, as I do with everything in my life, but this is where the difference between indie publications and Marvel publications comes in: Marvel is owned by Disney. There is absolutely no excuse for Disney not to pay their creatives. If they are not getting paid fairly, it's not because you pirated a book -- it's because Disney has a vested interest in not paying their creators, as evidenced by Alan Dean Foster's lawsuit claiming that they are withholding royalties from him. Fans pirating these books are not the reason the creatives are not getting paid fairly -- the creatives are not getting paid fairly for the same reason that Disney park employees experience homelessness, and it's because Disney would rather put that money into the pockets of their executives. There is no debate on that subject. It's easier and perhaps more convenient to blame fans for pirating comics rather than putting all of their money into what has been for years now a prohibitively expensive hobby to keep up with, but the fact of the matter is Disney could pay all of their creatives what they're worth without hurting their bottom line and instead chooses not to. That is not on you, as an individual reader. You have no reason to feel guilty about that, no matter what your circumstances are, and you do not have to justify your actions to either me or the House of the Mouse. I'm with you, and Disney ultimately doesn't care. They're making that money up elsewhere and then not distributing it fairly to the people who create the properties their media empire is built off of. But especially if you're buying older books, you should know that your money is not going to the creative team -- once it's out of publication, they're not going to get any of the money you spent on it. The argument then becomes that you should be supporting local comics stores which yes, is true, but also doesn't apply to everyone, like anon who doesn't have access to local comic book stores. And again, this can become prohibitively expensive -- collections are expensive. Older, hard to find collections can be very expensive. Once something is out of print, all bets are off on what it might be selling for. Buying single issues is only affordable if the single issue isn't desirable or sometimes if it's in exceedingly bad condition. For the sake of transparency, I have a fairly big single issue collection because it's my preferred format, but I had the time to bargain hunt, access to local comic book stores and large comic conventions, and I'm very good at sniping eBay auctions. The most I have ever dropped on a single issue was expensive for me -- and still under three digits USD -- and it's for an issue from the '60s that is not in great condition.
The problem with this debate is that it is generally a nuanced issue that always gets boiled down to "piracy bad" in a way that makes a lot of well meaning and well intentioned fans, especially the ones with extenuating circumstances, feel bad. It's not your fault. You shouldn't feel guilty. There are a huge amount of reasons why someone might pirate something that are not bad reasons and do not make you a bad person who is personally withholding money from the creators -- because you're not. I don't publicly tell people where to pirate comics, mostly because I really don't think it's that hard to find out for yourselves especially because several creators involved with Marvel themselves have, I suspect accidentally, posted pages of their work to social media WITH THE BANNER OF A WELL KNOWN COMICS PIRACY SITE STILL IN THE IMAGE please learn how to crop, so maybe my standpoint on the issue wasn't well known, but there it is. I think readers should, if they are able to financially and otherwise, support the creators they like, but that it should be acknowledged that this is a more complicated issue than it's commonly made out to be on Twitter and that the largest part of the blame needs to be put on the companies making these comics inaccessible to many and who refuse to pay their creators fairly, not on individual fans. Don't feel guilty, anon.
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headcanonsandmore · 3 years
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Hermione and Veronica ‘Ronnie’ Weasley
Summary:  A Romione WLW AU, with Hermione and her best friend Veronica 'Ronnie' Weasley, the sweet redheaded girl who... well, who Hermione finds herself very confused about.
This fic was inspired by a similar AU scenario fic by @hillnerd. As with everything Hilly does, her fic is amazing, but hopefully my fic doesn’t look too bad by comparison. 
                  Read on FFN.                                      Read on AO3.
~~~~~~~~~
Hermione Granger had a problem.
Well, not so much a problem. More of a…. confusion. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.
And it had to do with her best friend. Veronica “Ronnie” Weasley.
Ronnie was funny, sweet, kind, and athletic. Over six foot tall, with a mane of long red hair and a mass of freckles, she immediately caught the eye. The boys couldn’t help but notice her, and many of the girls either admired her or felt jealousy towards her. Hermione had lost count of the time she’d seen Dean and Seamus staring at Ronnie from across the common room. On a few occasions, she’d even seen Neville blush after Ronnie had smiled at him.
Not that Ronnie noticed any of this. The redhead had always felt lacking, either to her older brothers or to her younger sister Ginny. Ronnie was, like all her siblings, good at schoolwork, but she had never felt like she could stand out. She had confided to Hermione that, even if she had done well, no-one would ever think much of it, since her brothers had all done it before.
And then there was Ginny. Ronnie’s little sister was about almost a foot shorter, and with more of a nervous energy than that of her older siblings. Hermione had often wondered whether the Weasleys all had a set amount of passion, and that those of a shorter persuasion tended to be more on-edge than their lankier siblings. Granted, this theory didn’t necessarily explain why the short Charlie was so relaxed, while the taller Percy was the exact opposite. Maybe the Weasleys all just reacted differently to their circumstances.
Ronnie was not an intense person. In fact, Hermione found her almost supernaturally relaxed and affable. More prone to telling a chuckle-inducing joke as opposed to an over-the-top prank that was the preferred tactic of Fred and George.
Hermione preferred Ronnie’s way of doing things. Hermione liked a lot about Ronnie. Even if Ronnie personally thought her own matey-ness with people made her unattractive, Hermione couldn’t imagine why such friendliness and kindness could be considered unappealing.
To boys, of course. Yes, just to the boys.
Hermione had the distinct impression that Ronnie felt lacking compared to her little sister. Maybe it was Ronnie’s lack of interest in “girly” things, or her seeming-inability to act with “decorum” (as Hermione’s parents would have put it). It was common for Ronnie to wear a pair of hand-me-down school trousers instead of skirts because, as she herself put it, she hated having to worry about whether people could see up her legs.
Hermione always found herself flustered whenever Ronnie joked about this. Ronnie did have very long legs after all.
She had been friends with Ronnie for years, ever since the Halloween of first year. They hadn’t exactly gotten along before then but, since the incident with the troll, they had become firm friends. It was nice being friends with someone else in the girls dormitory; Lavender and Parvati had never really clicked with Hermione. Ronnie was the first female friend Hermione had ever had.
And then third year had happened.
The two of them had fallen out over their pets. Crookshanks and Scabbers had never gotten along and, at one point, it had looked like Crookshanks had eaten Ronnie’s rat. It had been really lonely not speaking to Ronnie for all that time.
But they had become friends again, and things had settled back to how they had been before.
Well, not exactly.
Ronnie had always been a good friend, but Hermione hadn’t understood why she had missed Ronnie so much when they weren’t speaking. She certainly hadn’t missed Harry in the same way, which was even weirder considering that Harry was a boy.
Hermione had missed Ronnie’s smile, her laugh, her beautiful red hair, the way she would throw an arm around Hermione’s shoulders as they walked to class, the way she would bound up to her and hug Hermione tightly, and the way she would stretch out in the common room so that Hermione couldn’t help but notice her-
Yes, she had certainly missed her friend Ronnie. The same friend who made butterflies appear in Hermione’s stomach whenever Ronnie smiled at her. The same friend who began to inhabit Hermione’s dreams in ways she was becoming very confused about.
Hermione had hoped that… whatever this was would disappear over the summer holidays, and she could just enjoy her friendship with Ronnie with no extra complications.
No such luck. Fourth year had just made everything even more confusing. Harry and Ronnie hadn’t spoken for a while after Harry’s name had appeared in the goblet of fire. Hermione had desperately tried to patch things up between them but, in the end, they had worked it out themselves after the first task.
It was good for them to be a trio again. Although Hermione, Ronnie and Harry had always been a bit unusual. Parvati and Lavender had always been giggling over it, asking both Hermione and Ronnie about which of them Harry was dating. Hermione had always rolled her eyes at this. To her, Harry had always been like a younger brother. Like all younger brothers, he was always getting into mischief and being annoying, but he was her brother nonetheless.
Ronnie had always laughed her head off whenever this question was proposed by Lavender and Parvati. Harry was “her best mate”. End of. Nothing more to say.
But… well, as the Yule Ball approached, suddenly Ronnie stopped laughed and started blushing, avoiding Hermione’s eyes.
‘It’s none of your business,’ she had mumbled, her ears flashing their tell-tale pink.
Hermione had felt her heart slowly sink, although she tried to avoid thinking about why.
Sure enough, the day before the Yule Ball, Hermione had asked Harry about who he was taking, and the boy who lived had blushed scarlet.
‘Er… I asked Ronnie.’
Hermione dropped the book she was holding. The two of them were in the library.
‘What? You mean… you…’
‘I-I don’t know, okay!’ Harry stammered. ‘It’s just… I needed a date for the Ball and Ronnie’s my best mate, so it made sense.’
‘Oh.’
‘Yeah.’
At that moment, someone tapped Hermione on the shoulder. It was Viktor Krum, the Durmstrang champion.
‘Excuse me, may I have a vord?’
Harry looked at the Bulgarian suspiciously.
‘Yes, it’s fine,’ Hermione said, leading Krum away into the next aisle of bookshelves. ‘Which section are you looking for?’
‘No… I… er…’
 *
 ‘Krum?!’
Ronnie’s face looked horrified. It was several hours later, in their dormitory.
‘Well, it wasn’t as if I was going with anyone, so why not?’
‘He’s eighteen, Hermione!’ Ronnie said, urgently. ‘He’s way too old for you!’
‘He’s not dating me, Ronnie,’ Hermione replied. ‘He’ll be more like a chaperone than anything else. Besides, it’s just one ball. It’s not like he’s asking to marry me.’
‘I should think not!’ Ronnie’s face was strangely angry. ‘You’re too good for him.’
Hermione felt her cheeks blush.
‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘Er, congratulations about you and Harry, by the way.’
‘You… you know about that?’ Ronnie asked.
Hermione nodded, wondering why the mood suddenly felt so tense.
‘Yes, he told me earlier. It was nice of you to go with him.’
‘You think so?’
‘Yes. I think you’ll have a great time.’
Hermione hoped that her voice didn’t sound as falsely-cheery as she suspected.
 *
 The Yule Ball was something of an event. It was interesting hearing from Viktor Krum about what Bulgaria was like, but she found herself distracted. Possibly due to the fact that Ronnie and Harry were sat only a few chairs down the table, and kept giggling over stuff. Ronnie was wearing a very lacy dress that Mrs Weasley had only managed to get third-hand; since Ronnie was so tall compared to most girls, her clothes had always been a bit… well, difficult to acquire on a budget. The dress was a few inches shorter than her normal summer shorts were, and Hermione had got the distinct impression that Harry was trying not to stare too much when they had walked through the crowd with the other champions and their partners.
Hermione probably would have enjoyed the dancing too, except that she kept looking round to see what Ronnie and Harry were up to. Ronnie’s hair was long and had a sweet flowery scent that seemed to follow it around the room. Her smile was wide as she danced with Harry, and the way she kept laughing made it difficult for Hermione to concentrate on her own dancing. Why was she so distracted?
‘Vould you like a drink?’ Viktor Krum asked, after a very fast song had finished.
Hermione nodded, and he left for the buffet table.
At that moment, Hermione noticed that Harry and Ronnie were walking towards the balcony area.
Deciding to catch up with them, Hermione darted between several other couple, and poked her head out through the curtains.
Her stomach turned to lead.
Harry was kissing Ronnie on the mouth, and Ronnie was kissing him back.
Stumbling backwards through the curtain, Hermione pushed through the crowd and began to make for the exit. However, she bumped into Ginny and Neville.
‘I’m… feeling a bit unwell,’ she mumbled. ‘Could you tell Viktor Krum that I’ve had to leave?’
Ginny and Neville nodded, but looked concerned and a little confused.
Hermione didn’t stop hurrying until she had arrived back in her dormitory. She washed her make-up off, changed into her pyjamas, and climbed into her four-poster bed.
She had started crying before her head even hit the pillow.
 *
 ‘So… yeah.’
‘Bit weird, but… well, that’s it.’
It was the next day. Harry and Ronnie were talking to Ginny about what had happened. Hermione was eating her breakfast without looking at any of them.
‘So… are you two dating?’ Ginny asked.
Ronnie laughed nervously.
‘No; but… well, we’re gonna see how things change. If it’s not our cup of tea, we can stay friends instead.’
‘Yeah,’ Harry said, cheerfully. ‘Take a bit more than kissing for us to stop being best mates.’
‘Yeah, but…’ Ginny said, her eyes darting to Hermione and then back to Ronnie. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Er, yeah,’ Ronnie said. ‘H-Hermione, what do you think?’
Hermione blinked hurriedly.
‘Oh, I’m sure you two will be very happy,’ she said, a little too cheerfully. ‘I hope you don’t me being a third wheel, then. Anyway, we need to get to first period now.’
Harry nodded, and stood up.
Ronnie remained sitting, looking at Hermione with a slightly confused expression on her freckled face.
Ginny gave a sigh, and went back to her breakfast.
 *
 The next few weeks were not fun for Hermione. Ronnie and Harry had always been a duo and, now that they were sort-of together, Hermione had never felt more like a third wheel. Even though both of them were clearly trying their best not to exclude her, she couldn’t help but feel miserable.
And that wasn’t even getting into the way her heart would thump painfully whenever she caught Ronnie looking at Harry.
It was ridiculous. Hermione couldn’t be jealous! What was there to be jealous of? Harry was like a brother to her, so it clearly wasn’t that.
No, it was something else.
It was Ronnie.
Hermione was in love with Ronnie.
She tried to not think about this. Which normally would have been difficult. But luckily, they were both helping Harry about the second task, which took up a lot of time and mental headspace. And their coursework was so time-consuming that Hermione barely had time to think about her feelings for Ronnie.
Could girls even fall for each other? Hermione had read about that sort of thing happening, but she never would have imagined that it would happen to her.
The day before the second task, she (along with Ronnie) were helping Harry with his preparations for the second Triwizard task, when the Weasley twins arrived.
‘Ronnie, you and Hermione have got a message from Professor McGonagall.’
‘What?’ Hermione asked, confused. ‘She can’t seriously ban us from helping Harry, can she?’
‘No, she just wants you and Ronnie to go to Dumbledore’s office.’
Hermione exchanged confused glances with Ronnie.
When they arrived at Dumbledore’s office, they were not the only confused people there. Cho Chang was also there, plus a young girl speaking in fluent French who was presumably Fleur Delacour’s little sister.
Dumbledore explained about what the second Triwizard task was, and how it would include all of them. Each of the champions would have a hostage, who would be in an enchanted sleep at the bottom of the great lake. The hostages would be perfectly safe underwater, and would return to normal once they were brought back to the surface of the lake.
‘Professor,’ Hermione asked, raising her hand. ‘I don’t understand; why has Harry got both me and Ronnie as his hostages? And where is the hostage for Viktor Krum?’
Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow.
‘Miss Granger, you are Mister Krum’s hostage, not Mr Potter’s.’
Hermione’s eyes widened in confusion. Viktor Krum? She was his “the person he would miss most”? Why? She’d been to the ball with him, but that was it. She hadn’t really spoken to him much since, aside from apologising for leaving the Yule Ball early. Why was she his hostage? Surely, he had friends from Durmstrang that would be a better pick?
Hang, on. Ronnie was Harry’s hostage. The person Harry would miss most.
So, that meant Ronnie was…
Hermione felt her heart sink. She couldn’t even look Ronnie in the eye, but she felt the redhead tense next to her.
Maybe Harry and Ronnie will become a full couple after he rescues her in the task, Hermione thought, miserably, as she slipped into unconsciousness from the sleeping spell Dumbledore had casted, I guess there never was any hope for me…
The next thing Hermione knew, she was treading water in the middle of the great lake. Viktor Krum was pulling her towards the shoreline. Her uniform felt heavy and sodden.
‘Where’s… where’s Harry and Ronnie?’ she asked, as Madam Pomfrey bustled them over to a tent nearby. ‘Haven’t… haven’t they come back yet?’
Madam Pomfrey patted her hand in sympathy, and tutted under her breath, as if she’d quite like a word with the person who came up with the idea for the second task.
A portion of pepper-up potion later, plus some warming spells, and Hermione was stood on the shoreline with Cho Chang and a very worried-looking Fleur Delacour. The French girl’s hostage was still down in the lake. Cho had put an arm around her.
‘They’ll be fine,’ the Ravenclaw was saying. ‘The judges won’t let any harm come to- oh, hello, Hermione.’
‘Hello. Have… have Harry and Ronnie got back yet?’
Cho shook her head.
There was a shout from the crowd, and Hermione looked round. Three people had just surfaced in the middle of the lake. Hermione could see a mane of very familiar red hair. Dashing past Viktor Krum (who seemed intent on chatting to her about something), Hermione wade into the shallows of the water. Fleur Delacour and Percy Weasley joined her.
‘I’m fine, Harry,’ Ronnie was saying, as Harry helped her towards the shore. The two of them were stood awkwardly in the shallows. Percy had stopped fussing over Ronnie, and had gone to find them some warm blankets, followed by the Delacour sisters.
Harry leaned forward and kissed Ronnie on the lips.
Hermione felt her heart sink and, turning away, she walked out of the lake, ignoring Viktor Krum’s renewed attempts at conversation, and left for the castle. People looked at her in confusion as she pushed past. She was glad that she had been given the pepper-up potion, as the February wind whipped through her.
Before she knew it, she was lying in her four-poster bed, crying her eyes out. She had somehow managed to close the curtains around her before she broke down completely. When was she ever going to get over this? She had no “claim” on Ronnie; after all, Ronnie liked boys, Ronnie liked Harry. And, next to Harry, why would Ronnie possibly look at Hermione? A bookworm. A girl. Just the best friend.
‘H-Hermione?’
Ronnie. Oh, god, Hermione thought, she can’t see me like this…
‘G-go away, Ronnie.’
‘What, and leave you miserable? Not on your life.’
‘I’m-I’m fine, Ronnie. J-just a bit exhausted from the task.’
‘Did… did Krum do something to you?’
‘No!’ Hermione exclaimed, pulling back the curtains of her four-poster. ‘Of course not! He’s barely even held my hand! What… how could you…’
‘W-well,’ Ronnie said, her ears turning pink. ‘You were “the person he would miss the most”, after all.’
Hermione stared at her for a second.
‘I don’t see Viktor Krum like that,’ she said, earnestly. ‘He’s… well… like a chaperone.’
‘He fancies you.’
‘You mean like Harry fancies you?’
Ronnie looked as if Hermione had slapped her.
‘You… you saw him kissing me, then?’
Hermione nodded.
‘Is that why you’re crying?’
Hermione mentally cursed. Her cheeks were still wet with tears.
‘I’m… I’m very happy for you both.’
‘Don’t insult my intelligence, Hermione,’ Ronnie said, hotly. ‘You’re clearly upset about it. What, you fancy Harry or something?’
‘What? No!’ Hermione said. ‘Harry’s like a brother to me! Why would you-’
‘Well, what’s your problem, then?!’ Ronnie exclaimed, coming to stand barely a few inches away from her.
‘Don’t be… it’s… well…I-’
‘Hermione, what is it?’
‘It’s not Harry that I fancy, Ronnie; it’s you!’
There was a deafening silence.
‘I… I shouldn’t have said that,’ Hermione mumbled. ‘Sorry, forget I-’
‘No, what do you mean?’ Ronnie asked. ‘Do… do you mean that?’
‘Y-yes,’ Hermione whispered. ‘I’m sorry. I know you don’t see me like that. I’ve ruined our friendship-’
Hermione stopped talking. Because Ronnie had suddenly leaned forward and was kissing her on the mouth. Hermione’s brain seemed to disengage. Ronnie’s lips were soft and delicate as they pressed against Hermione’s. The redhead’s body heat felt like a warm fire against her, despite how little they were touching.
A few seconds later, although it could have lasted for hours for all that Hermione knew, Ronnie pulled away slightly.
‘Do… do you really mean that?’ Ronnie whispered, her hands tender as they interlaced with Hermione’s. ‘You… you really fancy me?’
Hermione nodded, feeling very confused.
‘Yes. Ever since… actually, I don’t know when. But… why…’
‘I… I fancy you, Hermione,’ Ronnie said, softly. ‘I… I thought you didn’t feel the same way.’
‘You fancy me?’
‘Er, did I not just kiss you? Would have thought it’d be a giveaway…’
Hermione giggled.
‘Okay, I believe you. But how-’
The door opened. Harry poked his head through.
‘Everything okay?’
‘Yeah,’ Ronnie said, cheerfully as she held Hermione’s hand. ‘She’s okay. And so am I.’
‘Cool. And… did you both…’
Ronnie nodded.
‘Fantastic!’ Harry said, grinning. ‘I’m so happy for you two!’
‘W-wait, what?’ Hermione exclaimed, utterly at sea. ‘Harry, did… did you know?’
‘I guessed. Besides, me and Ronnie work better as friends anyway.’
‘You… you two aren’t a couple?’ Hermione gasped, looking between them both. ‘I thought… after you kissed at the lake-’
‘You are one daft maid,’ Ronnie chuckled, pecking her on the cheek. ‘But that makes two of us, eh?’
Hermione smiled, as she held Ronnie’s hand. Maybe, on occasion, the best friend did get the girl. Even if they were also a girl, too.
 ~~~~~~~~~
Thanks for reading, everyone! Hope you enjoyed it!
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a-simple-imagine · 4 years
Text
Look Pretty
Requested by anonymous: “Would you please write something with Hermione x reader where they are at slug horns party and the reader is trying to help Hermione escape Cormac and the two are dancing around their feelings for each other or something?”
Pairing: Hermione Granger x fem!reader
Words: 4k
A/N - I’m not sure how i feel about this one tbh but I hope you enjoy it
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You had never been one for parties; large social gatherings where people just stood around and talked? What exactly was fun about that. You'd much rather spend your evening in the common room but alas you find yourself stood before a full-length mirror inspecting your outfit for any imperfections. It was considered a privilege to be invited to Slughorn's Christmas party; it was only for esteemed guests and high achieving students. Each student was also supposed to bring a date; this could be anyone the student saw fit. High achiever or not. After some convincing from Hermione, you had agreed to attend the party but now your nerves had you feeling like you could throw up. Outfit number five was beginning to look worse by the second and you wanted nothing more than to just snuggle up in your bed. Y/E/C eyes stare back at you and a defeated sigh slips past your lips. How you wished Ginny or Hermione were here to fight your doubts with their uplifting compliments. Maybe you should change? The first outfit you tried on had been nice.
"How much longer are you going to be?" An impatient Harry Potter calls out to you; it was surprising that his voice carried so well from the common room. Then again, it was rather quiet this evening. With one final glance over your chosen items of clothing, you reluctantly commit to outfit number 5. With a quick spray of something flowery as a finishing touch, you descend the stairs to join your fellow wizard.
"Calm down, Harry. I didn't know you were in such a rush."
"I'm not," He turns around just as you reach the bottom step, his smile beginning to fade. "I just never expected you to take so long- you look nice."
"Really?" You look over yourself with a grimace. It didn't feel nice. "I'm not too sure I like it anymore. Maybe I should have worn something else."
"I honestly think you look lovely," He assures you with the kindest of smiles. Such a genuine boy, you have no reason to doubt him.
"Then thank you," It was hard not to feel a little embarrassed. "You look... rather dashing yourself, Mr. Potter," His dress robes were nothing to write home about but they suited him well; sleek black paired with a reddish shirt and a black bow tie.
"Shall we head out?" Harry holds out his arm in offering to which you gladly accept. Looping your arm through his before leaving the Gryffindor common room together.
It was a pleasant evening as the two of you wandered through the corridors. The quiet corridors a stark contrast to the normal hustle and bustle of Hogwarts School for witchcraft and wizardry. You rather liked how peaceful it seemed. The looks of strangers, on the other hand, you didn't appreciate. Don't these students have better things to do?
"So who did you end up inviting to the party?" Harry asks, relieving you of your increasing self-consciousness that came with the silence.
"No one," Your first choice hadn't been available so why bother with another. It just seemed like an unnecessary task. "Everyone had dates already- Who did you ask?"
You knew whoever it was they were just a substitute for who he really wanted to go with. Otherwise, he probably wouldn't have agreed to let you tag along. "Luna,"
"Loony Lovegood?" It was a nickname that often drifted around the castle for the unique Ravenclaw. And not always with the nicest intentions but she welcomed it like it wasn't supposed to be an insult which you found rather intriguing. "interesting choice."
"I wasn't sure who to ask, honestly." He defends his choice. Harry Potter was the chosen one, he could have invited just about any girl to this party and they probably would have said yes. Not to mention that you had overheard that Romilda Vane was hoping he would ask her. She's basically obsessed with him. "And she's my friend so why not?"
"Oh it wasn't an insult- I actually adore how weird she is," Perhaps Harry had been wise to bring his eccentric friend; she'd surely liven up any dull party with her unique tales. "She's like the perfect dinner guest."
You look to him from the corner of your eye wondering what exactly he is thinking. You probably would have asked him if he hadn't already arranged to go with Luna. "You should have just asked Hermione," Harry says after a moment bringing a sour taste to your mouth. Your relationship with Hermione could be easily summed up in one word; Complicated. She was one of your best friends and you wouldn't change that for the world but you also couldn't deny that you had begun harbouring feelings for her as well. "She would have said yes."
With a heavy sigh, you let your arm drop from around his. From the moment you heard about the Christmas party, you had been under the assumption that you'd go with Hermione But when the time came to actually ask her, Harry informed you that she had a date already. Which was fine. She was allowed to go with whomever she likes. "How do you know?"
You hadn't expected to sound so bitter but it couldn't be helped. His shoulder bumps against yours and you weren't sure if it was intentional or not. "Call it a feeling."
"You know what potter? I don't remember asking for your opinion," you huff defensively, storming off just a few steps ahead. "You can't talk anyway- why isn't Ginny your date tonight?"
"Why would Ginny be my date?" You have to stop yourself from laughing. He couldn't be serious. Anyone with half a brain could figure out that he had a thing for the Weasley girl and honestly who could blame him; Ginny was a talented young witch, very smart and beautiful.
"It doesn't take a genius to work out you have a thing for her." You continue with a roll of your eyes. "I know it. Hermione and Ron know it. Everyone knows it- even slug club thanks to you making a fool of yourself during that dinner party."
"I didn't make a fool of myself."
"You did though," You chuckle, thinking back to the night in question. It was a slug club dinner party and Ginny had shown up late. She may as well not have come at all considering you were eating dessert by the time she arrived. Hermione suggested it was because of Dean and you wouldn't be surprised if that was true. "You basically leapt out of the chair, Harry. It was really awkward to watch."
"I was just being polite," You highly doubted that. "And she is with Dean anyway so I suspect they'll be attending together."
"I guess... Dean's cute but Hermione says they're always fighting," Extra emphasis on the always. It wasn't really any of your business but as a close personal friend to the youngest Weasley, it was hard not to get involved. "You two, however," you glance towards the chosen one in all his glory. You come to a stop before him, adjusting his crooked tie so it sat perfectly straight. "Would make quite the pair."
All talks of crushes were lost among the wind as you rounded the corner almost crashing into the young Ravenclaw that stood waiting patiently. Catching yourself before the collision, you take a few steps back. "Hey Luna," Her outfit could not scream Luna Lovegood more if it tried; it was silver and reflective. "Don't you look... shiny."
"Thank you," Had you meant that as a compliment? You weren't too sure but she took it as one. Falling behind, you listen to Luna’s ramblings during the short walk left to Slughorn's office. The ceiling and walls had been draped with emerald, crimson and gold hangings which resembled a tent. There were way too many people here for your liking which made it awfully hot and stuffy. You almost instantly found yourself alone within the crowd feeling terribly awkward.
When with friends like Harry, Ron and Hermione, you could talk forever given half the chance. But being put into a situation surrounded by complete strangers and you'd freeze up; it was hard talking to people you either didn't know at all or only saw in passing. Hiding away in the corner of the room, you search the room for someone you knew. You spotted Neville walking around offering drinks to the guest from his silver Tray. Ginny was halfway through a conversation with Dean; thankfully she seemed to be smiling. Meanwhile, Snape was looking very bored as Slughorn drones on about one thing or another. You never expected to see Snape here but apparently he had been a past member of the Slug Club. No surprise there considering he went on to teach potions. After what felt like a lifetime of standing awkwardly on the sidelines, you finally spotted Mr. Potter just outside the makeshift walls. "I told you not to leave me alone with these people," You whisper-yell as you push the fabric aside. Harry seems surprised by your sudden interruption but all attention has turned to his companion. It was none other than Hermione Granger in a little pink dress; she looked beautiful even as she shoved something into her mouth. "What are you two doing?"
"Hermione is hiding from Cormac," Harry answers, signalling towards the other girl with a flick of his wrist.
"McLaggen? That's who you came with?" Cormac McLaggen, in your less than favourable opinion, was as sleazy as they come. He had shown interest in Hermione but she had never shown any in return. So why had she chosen him over you?
"I didn't have a lot of other options," you share a look with Harry who looked almost sympathetic towards the situation. He was the only one who knew that you had planned to ask her and was also the one to crush your dreams. "Oh god, he's coming over here," She quickly reaches for your hand which brings heat rushing to your cheeks. "Come with me,"
Following her lead, you crouch down and allow her to drag you back into the crowd leaving Harry to deal with McLaggen. "Why are you here with him if you don't even like him?"
"Because he actually asked me." Her words felt like they were directed at you but maybe you were just trying to make something out of nothing. You wanted to tell her that you had planned to ask her from the start but you don't. Now safely on the other side of the room, her hands slip away from yours. "But he's so bothersome. I don't think I can put up with it much longer."
It was her fault but again you keep that to yourself. "Why did you drag me along? I'm not trying to avoid him."
"As a distraction so look pretty." Look pretty? Before you can ask what exactly she meant by that, her hands are against your arms, spinning you around quickly to face a rather irritated McLaggen. This didn't feel right but it was too late to pretend you hadn't seen him now.
"What am I supposed to say?" Your whispers for advice are ignored or more accurately unheard. This conversation was destined to be very awkward.
"Where'd she run off to now?" He comes to a stop before you, running his hand through his dusty blonde hair.
"Who?" He had obviously meant Hermione. But it seemed you were running on autopilot as the word drifted off your lips before you even had a chance to think. He probably thought you were rather idiotic now but then again did you care what this slimeball thought about you?
"Your friend?"
You swallow a lump in your throat. Guess the plan now was to continue playing dumb in hopes of him giving up. With your bottom lip wedged between your teeth, you pause in thought for just a moment. "You mean Harry?"
"I'm obviously talking about Granger? She was just with you?"
"Was she?" Surveying the room, you pretend to search for the girl in question. Luckily enough she was nowhere to be found so your act must look rather convincing.
"So where did she go?"
"Who?" Fighting back a smile, your attention returns to McLaggen; his growing annoyance was evident in the creases forming across his forehead. If it had been anyone else, you'd probably feel bad for them. Although, you will admit that it was rather harsh on Hermione's part to be leading him on like this instead of making her intentions clear.
"Hermione Granger?"
Your shoulders rise in a quick shrug. "I don't know what to tell ya mate."
"Nevermind- I'll find her myself." With a sharp spin, he morphs back into the crowd finally leaving you in peace. You let out a breath you didn't realise you'd been holding as the pressure to cover had been elevated.
"So where is Hermione," This time the source was none other than Harry Potter; who was now standing by your side watching the party unfold. Neville seemed to have bumped into someone who was now causing quite the stir.
"No clue, she ran off somewhere," Stopping a waiter as they pass by, you take a small glass off his silver tray. The contents were golden yellow and you weren't quite sure what it was exactly.
"I don't understand why she agreed to come with him anyway." Sure, he had asked her but that didn't mean she was required to say yes. That had been her own choice which no longer made sense considering she was actively running away from him.
"Who knows," Harry muses aloud. "maybe it's because Cormac doesn't try to hide his interest in her."
"What's that supposed to mean?" You look to him with a scowl. You had never tried to hide your feelings for Hermione but the same could be said about trying to show them. It wasn't exactly something you went around announcing to everyone.
"Nothing," He offers you a flash of a smile as he slinks away to save himself from the upcoming argument. "If you'll excuse me."
Harry scurries away leaving you alone at the party once more. It seemed only fitting for you to take your leave now and head back to the dorms; you hadn't wanted to come in the first place. Plus you didn't feel like having to deal with Hermione and Cormac anymore. The commotion drew your attention for a moment but with a heavy sigh, you head for the exit. Why on earth would Draco Malfoy of all people gate crash such a lame party?
"Thank you," Remnants of your drink now spilt down your chin as you coughed in surprise. Hermione Granger has suddenly appeared once again bringing with her an aura of sweetness.
"Don't- do that," you swat her arm playfully, wiping away your flavoured drool. "You- almost- killed me."
"You're being a little dramatic," a gentle smile paired well with a roll of her eyes. "What did you tell him?"
"Cormac? I decided to play dumb and act like I had no clue."
"Must have been rather easy for you then," You raise a brow; was that a joke?  
"You do realise that agreeing to be his date, has probably given him the wrong idea?" You muse, placing the now empty glass down. It was feeling sticky between your fingertips, "And as his date, you shouldn't be running away from him. It's awfully rude, miss Granger."
"I had to bring someone," Hermione looked away from you, a heavy sigh drifting into the crowd. It seemed whatever had happened regarding Draco had sorted itself out. "And he just so happened to ask me."
"You can't avoid him forever," You wonder where the man in question has wandered off to. He couldn't have gone far. Catching Luna Lovegood's gaze for the first time since arriving, she gave you a little wave.
"That's part of the problem."
"Maybe you shouldn't have come with him in the first place, Hermione." You insist sharply, glancing back at her. "You always had other options."
Had you not spoken about the party beforehand than perhaps you wouldn't be filled with such bitterness.
"I would have said yes," Hermonie gently takes your hand in hers. Her thumb dancing delicately over the back of your hand; your entire body seemingly relaxes. "If you asked me, I mean."
Her words felt invasive; as if she had somehow managed to read your mind. Recoiling from her touch, you step away. Crashing into a rather tall lady with deep dark brown hair. She shoots you a less than favourable look before moving on. "Who said I even wanted to ask you?"
"Harry," Seems Mr. Potter had decided to try and play Cupid where he wasn't wanted. You make a mental note to talk to him about it later.
"You could have asked me," you throwback sourly. "Instead you chose McLaggen- someone you don't even like," A harsher tone but you remain quiet in order to avoid drawing unwanted attention. Heading for the exit, Hermione trails after you like a little lost puppy. Why couldn't she just leave you alone? "Maybe next time you should stop playing games."
"Who did you come with?" Hermione asks softly. It's almost drowned out among the noise. 
"No one." Your head drops. "I thought about asking Ron but he was busy with Lavender." The sound of the party grew distant as you stepped into the empty hallway. "Stop following me 'mione, go back to the party."
"I'd rather stick with you," Hermione brushes up beside you, falling in line. It was cooler out here and you were grateful for it.
"What about McLaggen?"
"All the more reason to leave," An uncomfortable silence falls over the two of you as you head back to the dorms. You never realised how eerie this place was when it wasn't full of students.
"Did you know Lovegood sleepwalks?" A harmless question to fill the void. "So she sleeps with shoes on although I think slippers would be the smarter choice."
"What?"
"She's an odd one," you smile softly at her. "But interesting,"
Speak of the devil, Miss Lovegood rushes past the two of you. Her dress twinkling in the moonlight.
"Heading back too, Luna?" You call out bringing her to a stop. The blonde turns back to the two of you.
"I am," She nods offering up a tiny smile as she waits for you to catch up. If it wasn't already awkward before it definitely was now. Nobody was speaking to each other so it was just like some weird silent adventure back to the dorms.
"Did you enjoy yourself, Luna?"
"It was alright," The blonde responds quietly. "I did manage to lose Harry a lot."
"Typical Potter," you shake your head in disapproval. "I was thinking..." You bump your shoulder against Luna's. "we should have tea together sometime?"
"Tea?" She muses out loud, "That sounds lovely."
"Great. I will send you an owl," Then Luna just up and turns down the corridor to your right. That wasn't the way to the Ravenclaw common room but maybe she wasn't heading back? With a little wave, you watch her skip away.
"You can be quite forward it seems,"
"What?" Your brows furrow.
"I just don't understand why you didn't ask me? We could have gone as friends?"
"I don't see why you're so mad at me when you're the one who had a date," you fight back.
"You're so oblivious,"
"Enlighten me then,"
The girl comes to an abrupt stop making you slow down. Turning to face Hermione, she seems unable to meet your gaze. "I wanted to ask you but I heard that Zabini was going to,"
"Zabini?" Never, in a million years, would you have thought that Blaise Zabini was interested in you. It was not a bad thing; Blaise was very cool and mysterious but also like too cool for you. Way too cool. "I wonder why he didn't."
"You would have said yes?"
"Better than going alone." You shrug a little.
"There you go then," Hermione huffs, storming past. Was she angry at you for considering another date when she herself attended the party with someone else? "Next time you need a date, go with him."
"Passive-aggressive much,"
"Forget I said anything,"
It was a silent walk back to the common room other than the moment Hermione had to say the password for you to get inside. The problem now was that you happened to share a dorm room with Hermione so there was no way to escape her judgemental eyes. After getting changed, you decided it's best to just retire for the night.
"I would have liked to have attended with you this evening had you actually asked me," Hermione expresses quietly. "When you didn't, I made other arrangements."
"I don't understand why I have to be the one to ask?" You respond. "You're perfectly capable of doing it. And besides, you didn't have to go with McLaggen, Hermione. That was a choice so you clearly didn't want to go with me that badly."
"You can't be serious," She groans loudly. "Why should I have to go dateless because you can't be bothered to ask me unless you don't have any better options."
"That's not even accurate," you growl back. "You're just making stuff up now."
"Will you two shut up," Ginny Weasley interrupts, leaning against the doorway. 
Heels held in her hands suggesting she had also just returned. "Everyone can hear you arguing."
"It's-" Ginny glares at you; shutting you up. Falling against your bed, Hermione sits upon her own as the youngest Weasley enters the room. "It's not fair that you insist on playing games and then get mad at me."
"It's not fair that you're mad at me because I found another date when you didn't ask me,"
Ginny sighed loudly. "Hermione. She didn't ask you because by the time she worked up the courage you already had a date. She was always going to ask you, she just thought you'd wait for her." Then her eyes fall to you, she looks very unimpressed. "Hermione on the other hand, heard you'd be attending with Zabini and so she was planning to make you jealous by going with McLaggen okay? you both like each other so either sort this out and go to bed or go argue somewhere else."
Ginny leaves you alone with Hermione and neither of you seems to know what to say. You were just a little surprised she would go out of her way to make you jealous, it seemed a little childish which wasn't her style. "Who knew Ginny could be so scary?"
The two of you share a smile which transforms into gentle and very quiet laughter. "You were scared to ask me?"
"I wouldn't say scared just... I didn't know if I had to ask officially. I kinda just expected us to go together but then Harry said you had a date." You shrug, fiddling with your hands. "You tried to make me jealous?"
"Don't," Hermione buried her face in her hands. How sweet she was. "I'm embarrassed enough."
"I still think you should have asked me," you lay down against your bed, snuggling against the sheets. "But I'll make you a deal. Next time I need a date, we shall go together okay? No matter what it is, you will always be my first choice."
"Alright, deal," you try to look at her but it's hard from your position. Listening as she climbed into her bed and switches off the light.
"You looked really pretty tonight."
"Thank you," she mumbles. "As did you."
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Infatuation // G.W pt.1
A/N: This is part 1 of my George in love with his brothers girlfriend series. Let me know if you guys enjoy it. Warnings: Maybe angst, fluff? Poor writing, I dunno haha.  Paring: Fred x female!Reader, George x female!Reader
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If George was certain of anything in his life, it was of his infatuation over you. From first year watching you stumble down the Great Hall steps to the Gryffindor table after being sorted into your house, all the way up to the present. He was undecided about a lot when it came to choices, but he had be certain about you since the moment he laid eyes on you. And his first glance was never his last. 
He tried to keep to himself, but he would be lying if he said that whenever you graced a room with your presence that it didn’t bring him an unbelievable amount of joy. If he noticed you in the court yard, laughing with some Hufflepuff friends, his steps would falter as his orbs fixated on you; your hair that seemed to dance against the evening breeze, the sun hitting your eyes at just the right angle to make them sparkle. You took his breath away almost every time he saw you.
Of course, his twin brother, Fred, would you be paying attention and would collide with his brother back, unknowing that he had stopped in his tracks. And Fred would follow his brothers gaze, grinning widely before dragging George over to you.
And why wouldn’t he? Why wouldn’t Fred be excited to spend every waking minute with you.. his girlfriend.  -
It was another excitement filled Friday evening at Hogwarts, with most students still riled up from the arrival of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students all here to try their luck at becoming a representative champion for each school during the Triwizard Tournament. As Dumbledore had announced at the assembly — much to everyone’s objections — because of the severity each task held, no student under the age of seventeen had been permitted to enter their name.
A small group gathered in the Gryffindor common room, “inner circle only” if you will, as everyone fussed and chattered about the upcoming tournament. Most of the people sat in the room consisted of under seventeens, including George who wasn’t impressed with the rule at all, so majority of the conversations were souly based off “what if!”
George was sat on the arm rest of the hideously red couch that was placed strategically in front of the fire place, a few other chairs being dragged around to fit everyone. His arms sat crossed against his chest as he listened to the chatter around him. From the place beside him, Fred spoke.
“Absolute rubbish if you ask me!” He shouted, earning a few cheers around him. The two brothers had agreed to enter their names into the goblet as soon as they heard about it, so it was safe to say that their plan was a bust.
“I guess it’s a good thing no ones asking you then is it, Weasley!” George nearly fell to the floor when he heard your voice carry through the room. Most of his peers seemed to laugh loudly at your comment, but all he noticed was the light that drew itself to you as you bounced down into the common room. Fred moved slightly, lifting a couch cushion before throwing it in your direction. George watched you dodge it with ease, before bringing yourself over and plopping yourself practically into his twins lap. “Serotonin gone,” He thought to himself as he got to his feet, deciding that the far wall would be much more welcoming.
“I’ve seen that look before,” Hermione spoke from beside George. She had unknowingly frightened him, causing him to jump from the sudden conversation.
“Merlins beard Granger, do you think you could make yourself known next time?”  “I wouldn’t have to if you weren’t moping around like a wounded animal!” She grumbled, snapping her book closed and turning her eyes onto him. They said nothing, George refusing to break first and speak what he was sure the young witch already knew..
He was in love with his brothers girlfriend.
“Boys,” she spat it out like she already knew everything there was to know about the male species. Being the smartest witch of her age, George didn’t doubt that she did — or was fairly close — to knowing everything.  George gave himself only moments to weigh the pros and cons of his situation and how it could go wrong if he were to speak the truth out loud. He thought about what would happen IF she were to tell anyone, but the voice in his head reminded him of why Harry and Ron trusted her so much; she could keep their most deepest truths to herself.  “Okay, fine,” George finally spoke, and when he did Hermione turned her whole body to him. She looked up to him, a sad smile setting itself on her lips.  “Harry looks the same way when he sees Ginny with Dean,” she added. George sighed, nodding his head as he crossed his arms over his chest again, kicking absentmindedly at the floor. He felt stupid, harbouring a crush on his twin brothers girlfriend. Hogwarts was filled with so many beautiful women that he couldn’t even explain it, and yet the only one he had ever wanted was with his brother. It was completely wrong on so many levels..
“I heard they’re not “together”” she was sure to put air quotations around the word ‘‘together.’ George huffed as a sort of half laugh, turning his attention back to you. He watched as you sat beside Ron, laughing loudly as you tried to convince him to take the sweets you had offered him. From where he stood, he could tell they were hiccough sweets, and he couldn’t fight the smile that crept onto his face.
He sighed again, turning back to Hermione. “Even if they’re not.. together. That doesn’t mean they’re still not.. involved.” He cringed at the thought.
“And how are you so sure that what they have just isn’t a comfortable friendship?” The two Gryffindor’s turned their attention back to where you and Fred danced around, the crowd laughing loudly as Ron exploded into a fit of hiccoughs.
-
“Have I upset you?” You asked out of curiosity when you found George. He was sat tucked away by the restricted section in the library, books sprawled over the desk in front of him. He pulled his attention from his parchment, before meeting your eyes with a confused frown.  “I don’t believe so, but if you know something I don’t know then please-” George gestured to the spare seat beside him. “-do take a seat and explain my dear,” he grinned up at you, giving you a wink as you challenged his stare. Finally, you caved and plonked yourself down in the seat beside him, pivoting your body so you faced him.
“I do know, that you’ve been lacking on your pranks, and have been less annoying that you usually are. So, what’s the deal Georgie? You sick?” You reached out and placed the back of your hand against his forehead, not missing the way he relaxed at your touch. You pretended to study his features for a bit, before pulling back and sitting upright. “Just as I suspected, you’re completely fine. Which leaves absolutely no reason as to why my best friend has been avoiding me!” Your voice had raised a level, and you were only just aware of how dramatic you were being.  George seemed to panic, and for a split second you thought you were actually right and that he had been avoiding you. It made no sense, George was your best friend and together yours wrecked havoc on the stud not body together, not to mention the professors. You two had a bond unlike most, it was actually George who you were friends with first. You loved him, just as you loved the rest of the Weasley family.  He pulled out his potions book, flicking it open to a random page before turning it to you, indicating that this is why he had been so distant. You frowned, sitting forward to take the book from him. A moments silence passed, before you brought your attention back to him.  “And what does an ageing potion have to do with anything?” You asked. For the second time that evening, his eyes widened as he searched his mind for an excuse.
“I’ve had a theory, and it’s probably so dimwitted that it’s absolutely brilliant!” You nodded for him to continue.
“Dumbledore cast an age line around the goblet. Well - and again this is just a theory - if I make this potion correctly, it’ll age Fred and I and we’ll be able to add our names into the tournament!”
He spoke so casually, like it wasn’t probably the most dumbest idea he had had. You eyed him, before bursting into laughter. Tears fell from your eyes as you tried to contain your laughs, but every time you looked at George you would lose your composure all over again. George smiled beside you, his eyes on you, watching every move.
“I’m sorry George, really. I didn’t mean to laugh.” You told him, wiping the stray tears from your cheeks. “In retrospect, an ageing potion does seem like the correct way to go - if your trying to make yourself older. But this time, there’s obstacles in the way of just a simple ageing potion, what once was a simple task, could now be rather dangerous George. This could have serious consequences.” 
George propped his arm up on the desk, before leaning his head onto his palm. He pouted his bottom lip out at you, and you tried to ignore how his sweet puppy dog face made the butterflies in your stomach stir.
“Are you worried about me, y/n?” He teased, reaching out to tuck your hair behind your ears so he could see all your face. You were vaguely aware of how inappropriate the situation was, knew that any bystander would definitely mistake the situation for something it’s not if they happened to pass by at this moment.
“Would they be able to tell that George isn’t Fred?” As soon as you thought it, you wanted to backhand yourself.
You watched as George dropped his hand from your hair, his knuckles brushing gently against the side of your face, as he let his hand fall to rest on your knee. The energy in the room seemed to shift almost instantly, the tension so thick it almost chocked you.
You swallowed against your drying throat, your eyes locking onto the boy in front of you. He was a mirror of his brother, and yet at the same time almost everything was different about him. To the small freckle on the side of his neck, all the way down to his face structure. George was a few mill shorter than Fred to. 
“George..” you warned, your voice barely above a soft whisper.
“I heard that you and Fred aren’t together-” he started.
“You’ve heard wrong, George.” Okay, it wasn’t a complete lie. Although you and Fred weren’t exactly official, the two of you were still respectively loyal to one another. You couldn’t tell people that though, especially not George. Imagine the rumours that would circulate if you jumped from one Weasley to another!  “If I’m so wrong, then why haven’t you moved?”
He was right.
This was wrong.
Everything about it was so completely messed up that you knew you had to stop it.
And yet you made no move to do so.
“Tell me to stop,” George almost pleaded, like he was fighting with himself to. He had to know that every aspect of this situation was wrong. You sat in silence as you watched his slender fingers dance along your thigh, the feather touch he had causing goosebumps to erupt across your skin. His hands were warm, his palm resting against the inside of your thigh while his fingers fiddled with the bottom of your skirt.  You could hear your heart pounding in your ears, and you were sure George could to. He had shifted closer to you, his long orange locks falling over his face as he watched you through his lashes. It would be a lie to say you weren’t attracted to him, that his movements didn’t cause a wetness to pool just behind your clothed core. You felt his breath fan across your face when you shifted in your seat to try and relieve some of the friction building between your legs. He was so close to you, nearly close enough to..
You sat back, reaching down to take his hand in yours. George’s lust blown eyes met yours, and he was reminded instantly just who you were and the severity of the matter. What was he thinking?
Better yet, what were YOU thinking?
“I’m flattered George,” your voice was harsh, probably due to the fact that every bit of saliva had dried from your mouth and made it nearly impossible for you to speak. “But we shouldn’t,” you stood, holding his hand a second longer before releasing his hold.  “I look forward to seeing how your ageing potion turns out.”
-
He wanted to throw himself off the astronomy tower, his face was nearly as red as his hair. He was so embarrassed. He hadn’t known what came over him, one moment he was looking at you, admiring how beautiful he thought you were, and the next he was trying to cop a feel right in the library. And the most absurd thing; you hadn’t acted instantly to stop him!
He pulled himself to his feet, hurriedly shoving his books into his bag before leaving the library to find Fred. The ageing potion had been an irrational thought souley conjured in that moment to impress you. If he was being honest, he had no idea the repercussions the plan could have. He just wanted to seem cool to you. Never would he think that you would actually want to see it. So he set off to search for his brother and fill him in on his idea - leaving out the part about you of course - and hoping that you hadn’t told him what his brother just tried to do.
He needed to sort out his priorities. 
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My feelings on a common misconception interpretation of Sam in “Slice Girls”: 
TL;DR Sam did not kill Emma as “revenge” and Dean was not ethically inconsistent in his actions with Emma versus Amy.
I have seen many times people claim that Sam killed Emma as “revenge” for Amy. I have seen both his antis and his hardcore stans say this (the latter as a means of “justifying” a decision Sam made that they traditionally wouldn’t stand behind… regardless of the fact that killing a kid to get revenge on his brother would paint him in a far worse light than taking the situation at face-value). 
In the same way that Dean killed Amy because he legitimately thought it was the right call, Sam killed Emma because he legitimately thought it was the right call. That’s it. Hate both of their decisions, agree with one but not the other, agree with neither… no matter what, I don’t think wanting “revenge” and taking that out on a child had anything to do with Sam’s actions. There are a few reasons why.
First, looking at the context of the season as a whole, Sam has been worried about Dean’s mental state for most of the season in much the same way that Dean has been worried about his, and accordingly, they didn't trust each other’s judgment fully. 
Dean killing Amy was to some extent, about not trusting Sam’s judgement due to his attachment to Amy and the metal state Sam had been in that season. Sam had been hallucinating and had also lied about it. So on top of not being sure if Sam could accurately grasp reality at any given time, him hiding it also made it very difficult for Dean to trust Sam to be honest if he was hallucinating, needed help, or needed to take a step back.
Sam’s decision to kill Emma was, likewise, to some extent, about not trusting Dean’s judgement due to his natural attachment to Emma as a father and Dean’s mental state that season. We see, on several occasions in season 7, Sam noting that Dean is drinking more alcohol than usual (which is saying something). Several times in the season, Sam expresses concern over this, to Bobby as well as to Dean directly. Sam’s lack of confidence in Dean is actually enough that, when Dean begins to notice things moving from where he left them and starts to suspect that Bobby is haunting them, Sam repeatedly and flippantly dismisses his observations and chalks all of it up to Dean drinking too much and grieving too hard and being an unreliable witness. 
Second, Sam and Dean came to an understanding about Amy in “The Mentalist”, and Sam ended up saying at the end of the episode that Dean’s actions made sense, and that he was right that Sam’s judgement couldn’t be trusted because he was too close to the situation emotionally. 
Season 7’s “The Mentalist” covers the confrontation between Sam and Dean over Amy, and Sam’s decision to work side by side with Dean again. There are two scenes—the initial blow up from Sam and Dean’s rebuttal, and then the resolution at the end of the episode. 
First the initial blow up and Dean’s rebuttal: 
Dean: We agreed to work the case. We didn’t agree for you to be a dick the whole time. 
Sam: What?
Dean: You’re pissed. Okay? And you’ve got a right. 
Sam: Yeah, damn straight. 
Dean: But enough’s enough. 
Sam: Says who? Look, I’ll work this damn case, but you lied to me, and you killed my friend. 
Dean:  No, I put down a monster who killed four people, and if you didn’t know her, you’d have done the same thing. 
Sam: I did know her, Dean.
Dean: Yeah, which is why you couldn’t do it. Look, I get it. There are certain people in this world, no matter how dangerous they are, you just can’t. 
Sam: Don’t pull that card! That’s bull! Look, if I’ve learned one thing, it’s that if something feels wrong, it probably is!
Dean: Usually, yeah. But killing Amy was not wrong. You couldn’t do it, so I did. That’s what family does—the dirty work. And I would have told you eventually, once I knew that this whole “waving a gun at Satan” thing was a one-time show. I think it’s reasonable to want to know that you’re off the friggin’ high dive, Sam. You almost got us both killed. So you can be pissed all you want, but quite being a bitch. 
Then there was the resolution at the end of the episode: 
Sam: Look, you know what... you were right—about Amy. If she was just any monster, I’m not sure I could have let her walk away. I dunno. I mean, I’ll never know. 
Dean: What are you saying?
Sam: What I’m saying is… I get why you did it. You were just trying to make sure no one else got hurt. But here’s the thing: you can’t just look me in the face and tell me you’re fine. I mean, you’re not sleeping, you drink for the record-
Dean: Oh here we go…
Sam: Look, whatever. Last one to preach. I know. But… just be honest with me. How are those the actions of someone who knows they did the right thing?
Dean: You want me to be honest?
Sam: Yeah.
Dean: I went with my gut. And that felt right. I didn’t trust her, Sam. Of course, ever since Cas, I’m having trouble trusting anybody. And as far as how I’ve been acting… I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I don’t like lying to you. You know, it doesn’t feel right. So yeah, you got me there. I’ve been climbing the walls. 
Third, in context, when Sam brings up Amy in the car, it is to say Dean choked with Emma in the same way that Sam choked with Amy and it could have gotten him killed—not that killing Emma was somehow vengeance for Amy. See the conversation at the end of “Slice Girls”:
Sam: What did you say to me... when I was the one who choked? What did you say about Amy? “You said you kill the monster”!
Dean: I was going to!
Sam: Oh, like hell you were! You think I’m an idiot? 
Dean: What you think I am?!
Sam: Dean, you were gonna let her walk! 
Dean: No I wasn’t. That’s ridiculous! 
Sam: Look, man, she was not yours. Not really. 
Dean: Actually, she, uh, she was, really. She just also happened to be a crazy man-killing monster. But uh, hey-
Sam: You know what? Bobby was right. Your head’s not in it, man. When Cas died, you were wobbly, but now... 
Dean: Now what? Oh what, you’re dealing with it so perfect? Yeah, news flash, pal. You’re just as screwed up as I am! You’re just... bigger. 
Sam: What?!
Dean: I don't know!
Sam: Look... Dean, the thing is, tonight... it almost got you killed. Now, I don’t care how you deal. I really, really don’t. But just don’t...  don’t get killed. 
In no way does Sam suggest here that Dean “deserved” to have his kid shot in front of him as some kind of “payback”. In fact, that doesn't really make sense 
In the context of the conversation in “The Mentalist, where Sam said he understood why Dean felt the way he did about Amy. 
It also doesn’t make sense in the context fo Sam’s comment that Emma “wasn’t really yours”. If he did it to hurt Dean, he would have pressed into that relationship, not dismissed it. 
He lectured Dean because he was scared Dean wouldn't have been able to pull the trigger and would have gotten himself killed. It’s the same “are you off the high-dive?” lecture Dean gave him, it’s the same “I did the dirty work for you because you couldn’t”. The shot Sam took wasn’t hesitant, but it also wasn’t emotional. It was calculated and ruthless. It was a choice Sam made, that Emma could not be trusted. He made that call. And maybe he was right—maybe the brainwashing went too deep, and Emma would have come after Dean again if they let her go (which is probably what Sam was really worried about—that she would have gone after Dean again and gotten the drop on him or he wouldn’t have shot her), or maybe she would have come after someone else. Maybe Sam was wrong, and Emma could have been persuaded away from life in a cult. We can say the same about Dean killing Amy. All they had was her word that she wouldn't kill again. And yet, if her son got sick again, it seems reasonable to assume she’d go on another killing spree. Maybe Dean was right to kill her, maybe he was wrong.
Other notes: 
[1] Sam misses a certain detail when he compares Dean’s actions with Emma to his own situation with Amy. Sam only compares the two situation by virtue of him or Dean choking due to an attachment to the “monster” in question. However, there’s a distinction between the two kills that is important within Dean’s personal ethical framework, while it’s not necessarily important within Sam’s... to the point that Sam doesn't really see this distinction at all (in fact, he may not know about it). Namely, Emma had never killed anyone before while Amy had killed four people. Dean’s actions in both situations are actually ethically consistent—which is another misconception in fandom. From Dean’s framework, Emma and Amy are not the same. Emma and Amy’s son are the same. We see the distinction Dean draws between Amy and her son in “The Girl Next Door”: Dean kills Amy but lets her son go because he’s never killed anyone. He doesn’t rescind that even after Amy’s son tells Dean he’s going to come after him eventually and kill him. Dean treats Emma in the exact same way. He tells her he would let her walk away because she’s never killed anyone, and he doesn’t rescind the offer even if it seems like she still might try to come after him again. This is also consistent with how Dean treated Bobby John in Season 6 “Two and a Half Men”, Jack in Season 4 “Metamorphosis”, and Madison in Season 2 “Heart”. 
[2] When he kills Amy, Dean is notedly dealing with trust issues that he himself acknowledges, after what happened with Cas. He trusted Cas implicitly even when Bobby and Sam doubted him, and he got burned, and it shook his ability to trust in anyone (see Sam’s “wobbly” talk above”). Killing Amy is a part of that, according to Dean’s own perceptions. 
[3] To a certain extent, it might even be said that Sam and Dean aren't just wary of trusting each other’s judgement, but also wary of trusting themselves. For example, “You kill the monster” is a hardline stance that’s unusual for Sam and that is rejected by both brothers as early as Season 2 “Bloodlust”. But because Sam doesn’t trust himself at that point in time, and also does not trust Dean’s judgement either, he does what he thinks is “safe” when his own mind is half shredded and he has a depressed and alcoholic brother who he’s afraid is going to let a monster kid murder him one day (be it Emma or Amy’s son). If he were to let Emma go and worse came to worse, Sam doesn’t feel he can rely on Dean to defend himself from her, and he doesn’t know what his own mind state is going to be like in the future. So he does what’s “safe” for them both. In the same way, Dean’s actions with Amy could be viewed as him choosing what’s “safe”.
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hazelquartz · 3 years
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Rhapsody of a Veela part 54
Summary: The Christmas Holiday is approaching, but first Y/n has to attend Slughorns Christmas party. As Fred is unavailable due to the high demand of the holiday season at Weasley`s Wizarding Wheezes, Y/n decides to invite Draco instead. 
Pairings: Fred Weasley x Reader, Cedric Diggory x Reader, Draco Malfoy x Reade  x Reader / Yes I know, so many ships but still, this takes place over a few years so I think it`s fair.
Warnings: None, fluff, comedy a teeny tiny angst.
Word Count: 2k
Wattpad Link
Part.1 / Part.2 / Part.3 / Part.4 / Part.5 / Part.6 / Part.7 / Part.8 / Part.9 / Part.10 / Part.11 / Part.12 / Part.13 / Part.14 / Part.15 / Part.16 / Part.17 / Part.18 / Part.19 / Part.20 / Part.21 / Part.22 / Part.23 / Part.24 / Part.25 / Part.26 / Part.27 / Part.28 / Part.29 / Part.30 / Part.31 / Part.32 / Part.33 / Part.34 / Part.35 / Part.36 / Part.37 / part.38 / part.39 / part.40 / part.41 / part.42 / part.43 / part.44 / part.45 / part.46 / part.47 / part.48 / part.49 / part.50 / part.51 / part.52 / part.53 / part.55
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Part. 54 – Dragon Balls, Champagne, and Holiday Spirit
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                            December 1996
You did not think much of it as a small enveloped letter landed in your hands after being dropped off by an unfamiliar owl during breakfast in the great hall. You yawned as you opened it, seeing as it did not look like those sent by Fred – which were usually sealed by a doubled W&W in wax. Instead it looked rather plain, and it did not seem to contain any glitter bomb, fireworks or any sort of mischievous surprise either. When you read the short message inside twice however, your eyes opened wider.
“Beware of the full moon,
-Your Secret friend “
“What`s that, another prank letter from Fred?” Hermione asked by your side, as you nervously pushed the letter into your robes pocket.
“Something like that” you quickly said, all so you could avoid suspicion and further questions.
You knew what it was about, it was likely sent by the mercenary you had encountered, polyjuiced to look like Cedric and at another time, George, - you had never found out his true identity. He was warning you that Bellatrix Lestrange was not giving up on her wish to see you dead, and the fact that she was likely to send someone else to finish the job now that the mercenary was blackmailing her.
This was all still on your mind, as you entered the Gryffindor common room after a long and tiring day. Only to be approached by Harry Potter,
“I need to ask you something” he said, and the lump that grew in your stomach by the mere sight of his face foretold that it would be of something you did not wish to hear about, as you followed him to a corner where no one could hear,
Hermione looked up worried towards you, but after a moment of hesitation she turned back to her book, although you were sure she`d try to listen inn undetected even if she suspected she knew what it was about. Harry pushed his glasses further up his nose before he began, shiftily,
“You`re pretty close with Draco aren`t you?” he had an accusatory tone in his voice, it had not gone unnoticed that you had been so friendly with the enemy for all this time. Your confused look turned sour rather quickly,
“Used to be.. I suppose”
Your thoughts started racing back, to the exact moment it had all gone wrong. When you had stunned him in Umbridge`s office so he would not loose all credibility with his friends – or sometime earlier. Perhaps it was during the summer break, when he had finally uncovered the truth about your father. Even if he too had suspected it all along, everything was different the moment it was confirmed.
“Well, I think he`s up to something” Harry continued intently, and from the corner of your eye you could tell Hermione was shaking her head softly.
“Something bad” Harry added, coming a little closer as he whispered,
“I suspect he`s been initiated as a death eater, and-“
That was the moment he lost you, and you scoffed loudly. Accidentally catching the attention of the rest of the common room.
“Are you really that daft?” you hissed,
“Draco isn`t up to anything nefarious, can`t you tell he`s hurting?”
“Hurting or not, he`s up to something. I`m sure of it”
You rolled your eyes,
“I reckon it`s time you let go of this childish animosity”
“But-“
“I`m sure you have better things to worry about Harry, like..”
A grin suddenly fell over your face,
“Like..how to win over Ginny perhaps”
And Harry`s face turned a light shade of red as you left him there in the corner, joining Hermione where she sat in the couch in front of the fireplace. You could tell he tried his very best to not look towards the staircase to the girl’s dormitory, where Ginny descended with a heavy book in her hands.
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Unfortunately Fred had not been available for the date of Professor Slughorn`s Christmas party due to him being extremely busy with Weasley`s Wizard Wheezes in their very first Holiday Season. And so you had thought you`d end up having to go alone. A concept which sounded completely dreadful to you –as all you had on your mind was leaving for the holiday, to get to spend it at The Burrow. You had never spent Christmas there, in fact you had only ever spent it with Fred either at Hogwarts or Grimmauld Place in London.
So when you caught Draco wandering the hall late in the evening, the day before, you got the brilliant idea to invite him – platonically of course. Perhaps it would get his mind of all the darkness he was clearly dealing with all by himself, it was clear either way that a light-hearted party could not do him any harm. You were even sure he had probably desired at some point to be invited to the Slug-Club himself, even expecting it completely – only after his father was sent to Azkaban he had lost all promise to him in the eyes of Professor Slughorn.
“Evening, Draco” you smiled as warmly as you possibly could, even trying to put on some of that Veela charm in case it would make him more susceptible.
He turned to look at you, pale as ever. Mildly annoyed by the interruption of whatever he was doing or wherever he was going. But at least it was only you, and not anyone else.
“The curfew has started you know, you shouldn’t roam about the castle after nightfall” he replied curtly without as much as a greeting.
“Why? Are you going to dock some house points of me?” you teased, knowing very well he never would, despite being a prefect. Even back when he was the head of Umbridge`s tyrannical Inquisitorial Squad, he`d always rather get you out of trouble.
“Perhaps give me a detention?”
“Don`t tempt me” he stated, with a faint smile.
“What are you doing out anyway?”
“I could ask you the same thing” you laughed, but it seemed rather clear that he would in no way give any answer. You could not point out why, but there was something that seemed a little lighter about him than the last time you had talked.
“I actually wanted to ask you something though, you know Slughorn is throwing a Christmas Party tomorrow and-“
“I can`t” Draco interrupted you, with a grim look.
“Why not?” it slipped out of you, perhaps a little too curious than how it had sounded in your head.
“I just can`t” he repeated dismissively.
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When you entered Professor Slughorn`s office the next evening, you had to conclude that he had actually held back on his decoration skills during the Halloween Party, it was now even more magically excessive. Garlands hanging everywhere, and the ceiling was draped with emerald, crimson and gold hangings making it seem as if you were inside a large tent. From the centre of the ceiling there hung an ornate golden lamp, with real fluttering faeries casting a red glow. Mistletoes seemingly grew out of thin air wherever you stood too long, which meant you had to be on constant guard as you were attending alone. Hermione had gone with that sleazeball Cormac McLaggen, Ginny with Dean although it seemed they had recently been fighting again, and unfortunately as you looked across the room – Pansy Parkinson had found her way into the exclusive event yet again, thanks to her friend Blaise.
She grinned at you full of malicious intent, and you quickly turned and made your way through the crowds to shake her off.
Again, there were a lot of important guests attending the party. Celebrities and VIP`s of the Wizarding World, that Slughorn had gathered into his networking collection over the years. Star Level Quidditch players, Politicians, Lingui- Sanguini, the Vampire, an ancient looking wizard who`s white beard reached the floor, and even more interesting looking characters. A voluptuous Witch in a long glittery dress with big hair, who you thought you might have seen the picture of on one of Molly Weasley`s favourite records. Celestina was it? You could not recall her last name. But Slughorn quickly confirmed your suspicion as he approached her, gesturing with his arms at the importance of this particular guest.
“Ah! If it isn`t the Spectacular Singing Sorceress herself? Miss Warbeck how are you dear?”
You made a quick note that you needed to somehow get her autograph on a napkin before the night was over, as you could not imagine a more perfect Christmas gift to give your future mother in law.
A server offered you some strange looking finger-food from a plate, but the rotting scent averted you and you politely declined. Luna, who was Harry`s platonic date appeared and picked up a bite from it without hesitation, studying the mystery meat-ball up close before she smiled wide eyed at you.
“Dragon Balls are highly effective at keeping away the Nargels, it`s a good thing they serve them considering all the mistletoes hanging around” she explained dutifully, before taking a big bite. You were sure the stank was enough to keep anyone away.
“I`ll keep that in mind” you frowned, before stepping away yet again before a Ravenclaw student decided to take his shot at you with the mistletoe branch growing down from above you.
You grabbed a glass of Champagne from another servers plate, downing it with an instant, then grabbing another. Your cheeks started feeling a little warm as you made your way through the stuffy crowds, bumping into the back of a tall figure. When he turned around, you saw it was Sanguini – who`s bored looking face widened into a fanged grin the moment he recognised you.
“How lovely to meet you again, Miss Y/ln”
“Indeed, lovely” you muttered,
“Excuse me” as you pushed further through the crowd. You were starting to feel a little queasy. The moment you found an empty corner the relief were short-lived, as Pansy Parkinson approached you with a glass of champagne in hand.
“That`s a pretty dress you have there, half-breed. I can see it is the same you wore as last time” she snickered,
You sunk down into a chair behind you, you really did not feel like playing any of her spiteful games tonight.
“And you look a little warm, here, let me help you cool down” she frowned, reaching out her hand to empty her drink onto your lap, making you shriek and stand up. Your blood started boiling by her laughter, Blaise appearing behind her looking as bored and indifferent as ever.
“Cut it Pansy, or you`ll get me kicked out too” he warned her, grabbing her hand and dragging her away before anything escalated.
You sighed, discreetly grabbed the wand you had kept on you with a bridal like hosiery hold-up.
“Tergeo” you chanted, and the liquid quickly siphoned off your dress as if it had never really been spilled.
Just that moment, someone entered the office and you heard some light ruckus.
“I caught him sneaking around outside, probably trying to gate crash” you heard the voice of the ghastly care-taker Argus Filch, and pushed your way through the crowd to see if it was who you suspected.
“Let go of me!” Draco shouted, trying to get out his grip.
“He`s a student of my house, I`ll handle this” Snape announced abruptly, but you spoke quicker than you had thought,
“There you are Draco!”
“Kept me waiting all evening, have you? Well, as long as you`re here now that`s all that matters”
All eyes went on you, then back to Draco as Filch let him go.
“Oh, just a delightful misunderstanding!” Professor Slughorn laughed to ease the tension, “As long as Mr. Malfoy is a guest of Miss Y/ln, he is more than welcome to stay”
Snape backed down reluctantly, as Draco annoyedly grabbed your reached-out hand, playing along as you had saved him from trouble. As the party resumed and everyone seemed to forget about the scene, you handed Draco a glass of Champagne.
“You look like you could need a drink”
You ignored the looks not only sent by the likes of Pansy and Blaise, but also the highly suspicious one from Harry, as Draco thanked you tiredly.
Part.55 - Tis` the season to be Wary
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ladyfluff · 3 years
Text
Sweet Daisy Chains.
AN: A bit short but I took my time with it, i am sleepy but I do hope you like it. Merry Christmas!
Music: Jeremy Soule - Jata
Sweet Daisy Chains - Part One.
Sweet Daisy Chains - Part Two.
Sweet Daisy Chains - Part Three.
Sweet Daisy Chains - Part Four.
Sweet Daisy Chains - Part Five.
Sweet Daisy Chains - Part Six.
Sweet Daisy Chains - Part Seven.
Sweet Daisy Chains - Part Eight.
Sweet Daisy Chains - The End.
SUMMARY: He needs to do better.
@beccaliciooouuusss @mylovelycrazyworld @nonsensicalobsessions @kcd15 @too-much-fandoms-oof @terry-perry @wild-rose-35​ @midnight-queen-1​ @littleredstarfish​ @littlefrogstuff​ @damalseer​ @oatballsoffury​ @acrossyourneck​ @devilbat​ @princerowanwhitethorngalathynius​ @kingtwhiddleston​ @grufflepuff​ @dangertoozmanykids101​ @toozmanykids​ @thatweirdwalangpake​ @dean-the-trickster​
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''I didn't do it for him...''
Truth, purest for of the truth. He did it for his mother, for his wife and son. For himself, for Thor. The pain was unimaginable, his last chance at any decency. Loki felt content seeing the despair on the brute's face, calming in some way. Knowing that he was in company with family, he could see the man he had called his brother. The little blonde warrior that had promised to protect him from the shadowy corners of Asgard as a child, Loki felt light. Content to have seen him again, despite all of the times he had actively picked on him and excluded him from his life and adventures with those warrior friends of his. Loki didn't seem to mind that so much anymore, the bitter memory of overhearing Thor's conversations with the others. Talking about how childish he was, how he wouldn't amount to much. The bookish type, silent boy. Loki was willing to let go of that memory now, for him.
''Loki.''
Perhaps one small smile for the road, not too big. Loki could feel the muscle in his legs tense up, the pain had numbed his fingers. Soon enough he'll feel nothing, it would be best if Thor left him here. Left his body behind so that his wife wouldn't have to see him like this, Loki wished to spare her the horror. No doubt he looked quite sickly, Thor sniffles.
''Go...''
One smile for his big brother.
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As to how he survived was beyond him, not something he really wanted to think back on. He's been at deaths door before, this was nothing new. Loki had such a strong feeling that life had finally caught up with him, that the string of poor decisions he had made in the past finally found him. He truly believed that he was about to die that day, funnily enough; he didn't. Not that Thor knew that or anyone else for that matter, as far as everyone around Asgard knew; Loki was dead. Not Y/N however, he couldn't do that to her. He watched as Thor brought her the news of his passing, Loki saw his wife hysterically begging Thor to find his body and bring him home. That she wanted to bury him like the royal that he had been, like the man that she loved. Loki hadn't ever thought about his own funeral, maybe once or twice in the dark space that was the titan's realm. Had he died back then there was no way for anyone to know, no one would've found his body and brought him to Asgard. Loki was somewhat touched by the vigil held in his honour, it was odd to find himself feeling for himself at what was technically his own funeral. Comforting his own wife under the glamour of a servant, she had no idea that it was him. Loki was surprised to find how many Asgardians attended said vigil, so many of them were there. Many tears were shed, it was clear that they some didn't know who he truly was underneath the Asgardian gold that hid his frozen skin. His trial hadn't been particularly public but word did get out, some seemed very indifferent towards the truth behind his birth. Others were very bothered by it and Loki in truth expected all of Asgard to react that way but it was pleasant to know that he wasn't hated by absolutely everyone.
''My king.''
Now he was here, sitting on the throne like he had often fantasized of doing. Disguised as the man he once called father, his illusion had been so convincing. The people couldn't tell the difference just yet, even if they noticed a difference they couldn't tell. The guard stepped closer to the throne, rather timidly. Nothing out of the ordinary, the people despite the intense fear of the golden throne had often viewed Odin as the king of the people. Loki wanted to laugh in their faces, although they were somewhat correct. Odin did have the interest of Asgard at heart, the forefront of his mind was the care and protection of his people. To ensure it's thriving community and togetherness, in recent years it had been buckling under his knees. Age was catching up with the man, Thor wasn't all too interested to take the mantle of king but Loki was. So far, he was doing a great job. Whole six months in and nobody suspected a thing, granted he had to place Odin somewhere that they wouldn't find him. Make sure he doesn't try to talk but his deep sleep did help ensure that not a lot was said, he had been woken up too early. The confusion had set in, in Loki's eyes he behaved like any senile man would but sooner or later his mind would fully return. What better place to put him than Midgard? One of those places where they care for their elders, despite his self described hatred of the man he for some bizarre reason couldn't bring himself to kill him. Killing him would've been worse, people would know if he was dead. They could feel it, so as long as Odin's heart still beats the people are at peace.
''Lady Y/N has sent me to deliver a message...''
Loki narrows his eyes, he could see the sweat dripping down the guard's forehead. A common guard, why would she send a guard when she knew that he would love to see her personally? Normally his wife would bring their son too, Loki had pushed it aside before. Simply coming to the conclusion that she was far too busy chasing their toddler son around the keep to see him personally, that and they couldn't be seen together when he was under the guise of Odin. People would definitely notice that something wasn't right if they saw him holding her, the guards almost caught him attempting to hug her and all they saw was their king Odin trying to hug his dead son's wife. Hilarious to some but serious business to others.
''Why hasn't she come herself to deliver this message?''
''I- I'm not sure, all she said was that she would be dining alone with her son...''
Again?
''Thank you, you are dismissed.''
Ever since he revealed himself to her, he didn't anticipate this much silence between them. Some of it was to be expected, the distance was somewhat normal but he hadn't thought it would be this prolonged. Loki just wanted to spend time with her, be a family again and he had the freedom to do so. Y/N didn't eat with him as often as he would like but what could he do? He couldn't force her to eat with him, Loki sighs as the guard made himself scarce. He should've come clean right after Thor had announced his 'death' to her, he shouldn't have waited until after the little ceremony that Thor had so kindly held to remember him. If only they knew that he was in attendance that day, even Narfi seemed to know what was happening. He wouldn't stop crying, poor boy. Y/N tried to console him to no avail, the boy knew his father was missing and he wasn't shy about letting everyone know how unhappy that made him. Loki hadn't really been too fussed about the subject of children until after he proposed to Y/N, he was well aware that children were expected of them but he had so much time to make that happen that he simply took things as they came. He was overjoyed to find that Y/N had become pregnant, even more so when the healers told them it was a boy. Despite being part frost giant, both mother and father loved that little boy more than anything. They were at their strongest together, Y/N promised she would always stay behind and wait for him to return. Their son in her arms, just waiting for him to come home to them.
''I'm going to rest, please do not disturb me unless it is important.''
The current advisor simply nods and sticks his nose back into his ledger, that man had worked for this family for as long as Loki could remember. This would've been his job had Thor accepted the position as king, he knew that the oaf would've chosen Loki as his advisor.
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Narfi didn't need the help being fed but the boy enjoyed having his food spooned into his mouth just like before, they had always spoiled the boy. He was their only child, it made sense to pour as much love on him as they could muster. To make sure that Narfi knew how much they cherished him, that he had support to fall back on should he ever need it. Loki couldn't help but smile as his son digs his hands into the little bowl of vegetables with a rowdy giggle. Y/N sighs as she attempts to get Narfi to stop playing with his greens.
''Food goes in your mouth dear...''
''Let the boy have his fun.''
Y/N turned her head, seeing him standing there. Narfi was just a boy still, old enough to waddle and run. Still not speaking too much but he'll get there eventually, Loki believed that he needed all the playtime he could get. Grow his senses, enjoy childhood while he still has it. Live his life as the innocent that he is, a simple boy with simple goals. Wake up, play and enjoy. Loki wishes that his life could revert back to that, on occasion he imagined reliving his entire childhood. A time where everything wasn't so complicated but he soon realised that no matter how many times he'd repeat his life; it'll never really change. He will still see Y/N, he will always fall in love young, resent his brother, resent himself. Find some half-assed way to prove himself worthy, screw that up somehow and be banished from the realm. No matter how many times he thinks about it, his life will always end up the same. He couldn't start over because he will always be the little blue baby that Odin had taken from the frozen wastes of Jotunheim. There was no changing that, it will always catch up with him. The only way he could live his life peacefully was to accept that part of himself, like one would accept their own hands or legs. Knowing that they are attached to you and that you are the one in control, Loki could live his life being what he is now that he has accepted this other side of him. He and his son were the same, small giants. They had compassion and growth whereas the giants of Jotunheim didn't, what would they know of love? Loki didn't think they even knew what a bowl or a pillow was. He was content here, his wife at his side and his son in his lap. Just like he wanted, what they wanted. Y/N turns her attention back to Narfi.
''My king...''
He chuckles.
''Such a bitter tone.''
Y/N had been bitter for a long while now, he couldn't exactly blame her. She had the right to be upset with him, Loki wished he could make things easier for them. They barely slept in the same room anymore, seeing as he was living as Odin he had to make sure that no one would barge into the king's chamber with urgent news and find no one there or an illusion that won't respond. Often at times, Loki sent a clone of himself to bid his own son goodnight. He knew it was awful of him to do, he should make more time for his son. His only child, acting as the king gave him virtually no time to indulge. He barely saw his wife, sometimes in passing as he walked down the halls to attend some important meeting. He sighs.
''Talk to me.''
She didn't look at him, too focused on wiping their son's chin clean. What a messy child, not that Loki could blame him at all. Children were messy in general, it was simply one aspect of parenthood. Cleaning up after them, Loki assumed his mother did that for both him and Thor. Even Narfi when she was still alive, he missed her so much. She was watching over them most likely, disappointment on her face. He never fully understood the cryptic messages she delivered him, spoke in riddles when he was desperate for answers but he knew now that he couldn't find the answer to everything in his mother's lap. He wished it were that easy.
''Did you learn nothing in the dungeons?''
Loki huffs, looking back at his son who grabs fistfuls of greens; shoving them in his mouth. He didn't want this conflict right now, any other time but now. Not during quiet time, Loki came here with the intention of spending time with his family. He felt frustrated that his wife seemed to still see the clear barrier between them like before, she barely touched him. Hardly ever kissed him, not even held his hand. Loki knew it was for a good reason and he deserved it but he missed her, he felt the hurt burning inside his heart.
''Can't you just be happy for us? I'm walking and talking as a free man, we can finally be together. Remember?''
Y/N stood up from the table, picking the now full Narfi up from his little chair. She always felt so bad for not letting him sit in her lap like she had done previously, he was a growing boy and he needed to learn to eat on his own now. Narfi sat comfortably on her hip as she approached Loki, he could see the frustration in the form of a few wrinkles between her brows. He so adored them, finding her to be rather endearing when she got riled up. Loki was sure to not purposely ruffle her feathers too much however.
''The people believe you to be dead, you are constantly disguised as the old man and you can't be seen in public with me. Do you call that being free?''
He made a sacrifice, he hadn't intended to survive that day. Loki had no idea that he would make it, it came as a surprise to him but he took full advantage of it. Sure, it would've been easier had he simply found his way back and made himself known but he would be put back in the dungeons. Regardless of what good Loki might do, Odin wouldn't have any of it. He already spoke, made his decision and that decision was to imprison Loki and strip him of title. He didn't want to spend the rest of his long life in a box, only getting four hours with his own son two times a week and one visit from his wife per week. The system drove him insane, Loki knew that he regressed. He still felt bad for what he had been a part of a year ago, there was still nothing he could do to make it up to the people of Midgard. If he could bring back all those who lost their lives down there, he would without hesitation. He spent a lot of time building himself back up, trying to heal from the mess he left behind but he could never cure his fear of the titan. His mistake was not telling her, he should've told her.
''I just want to be able to go outside as a family, play with our son like we used to but we can't. It is hard for me to look at you and see Odin's face each time. Narfi deserves better than this.''
Loki's shoulders slump, the disappointment in her voice was so strong. He was so afraid, he trusted her and cherished her. Worshipped the ground she walked on when he had the moment, her image painted on the great ceiling in the throne room. She was history, his history and her own. The history of their people, their family. Recorded as a widow and a mother of one, once a princess and now reduced to a mere lady. Loki wanted so badly to be able to go outside with her, with their son. Roll around on the grass in the gardens like they used to, see Narfi waddle about and examine everything in sight. Loki had missed so much, he upset her and his son. Taking on the mantle of king hadn't done as much good as he thought it would, sure he managed to pardon himself and free himself from the clutches of imprisonment but if the real Odin returned who could predict what he would do? Most likely place him back in that place, in that box of his. Left to sulk like a child in the corner for the rest of his life, he didn't want that. Loki felt his punishment fair for what he had done, for being manipulated and controlled, to allow himself to be duped into that deal. The deaths of many Midgardians, the torture he had received from the great titan himself. He couldn't bare to relive it, there was guilt, immense guilt. 
''I deserve better than this...''
Her eyes watered and in return his own did too, the emotions of another were so infectious. Narfi holds out his arms, calling for him in hopes to receive a tight embrace from his father. Loki didn't hesitate to take him from Y/N's arms, wanting to feel him pressed up against his chest. No longer the little infant he once saw, he could walk and he could babble his way out of anything. Loki missed a lot of it, his development. His actions drove a wedge between himself and his wife, their marriage was put on hold. Loki hugged Narfi close, running his fingers through his black hair. So dark and so thick, he knew he would grow to be beautiful.
''I want our marriage back, our family. I want you back...''
Y/N approached them, wrapping her arms around them both. Huddled together like a family for the first time in months, this is what Loki wanted. He wanted to work on this, be better. Get themselves back on track, his jaw tensed. They hadn't been very sociable since he came back, the distance wasn't good for either of them. A part of Loki wanted to stay hidden, run away to some corner of the world and crawl into a hole. So convinced that the world would be better without him meddling with it, that Thor would be relieved to not have to deal with him anymore but his words at the ceremony that was held in Loki's honour made him rethink it all. Thor was truly saddened by his passing, it was odd to see him so emotional. Being upset and throwing tantrums had been in Thor's nature for centuries but this type of upset was new to Loki, he was so grateful to see him comfort Y/N in her time of need although Loki wasn't truly gone. It showed him that he was loved and well missed, perhaps not fully forgiven. He didn't expect to ever see the day but he was glad with what he received, the sight he had seen. The man he called his brother, weeping for him. That the loss of Loki had been so impactful, he had seen the love within Thor and yet hadn't given it a deeper thought. There was much more than just their mother, together they were raised as brothers and no doubt would remain so for the rest of time. Regardless of what the other might think, their childhood couldn't be taken from them no matter how hard anyone tried. Loki would always remember the rainy nights Thor had spent trying to protect him from the lightning outside, truly the god of thunder that man. He smiled, a deep breath filled his lungs. 
''I'll make it right...''
Though they kissed behind closed doors and raised their son in private, he swore he wouldn't put them on the shelf. Narfi throws his hands up, squealing and tugging on Loki's hair. Y/N laughs ever so softly, Loki wasn't leaving them again.
''Ow, Narfi not the hair.''
Never them.
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sweeethinny · 3 years
Note
Hinny prompt: How far did Harry and Ginny go in Half Blood prince?
thanky you honey for the prompt :)
i love to think they didn't get very far, maybe even second base
but they were both teenagers at the height of hormones, so it's almost unreal that nothing ever happened.
i have had this idea in my mind for a while (since i read hpb), and i am happy to finally write it. ended up getting long, but I hope you like it!
AO3
WARMING SMUT
Harry and Ginny were kissing warmly in the empty Common Room, ignoring the beautiful day outside and the opportunity to play Quidditch, preferring to enjoy the unique moment where they were alone and by some miracle, Snape could not apply Harry's detention. They were clinging to the sofa at the back, a little hidden from the hole in the picture and the stairs in the dorms, and Harry suspected that a student had put him there just for those purposes.
‘’I’ve never been happier for a Slytherin to be stupid enough to take extra classes with Snape’’ Ginny sighed when Harry started kissing her neck, lifting her chin so he had more space
‘’We won’t talk about him while we’re kiss, thanks’’ She laughed, scraping her nails on her boyfriend’s scalp, breathing unevenly after all that moment, wanting him to continue his journey through her body ..
‘’I’ll have that conversation with McGonagall in a moment .. about my NOM’s and everything’’ Ginny reminded him ‘‘So we don’t have much time’’
''Am I going to need to kidnap you and take you hidden somewhere on the other side of the world, so that we can spend more than half an hour together, without one of us having to slip into any classroom?'' Harry sighed tiredly , laying his head on her breasts, as he breathed in the numbing fragrance and let himself be carried away by the sound of Ginny's laughter, which made her little body tremble slightly "Seriously, I will kidnap you sooner or later"
''It's not kidnapping if I want to go with you'' She shrugged, wrapping her legs around his, looking at the ceiling while enjoying the feeling of him there ''We can meet at night, after dinner .. It's impossible for Hermione want to study at that time''
‘’And where do you suggest? As beautiful as the night is outside, I don't think we'll be able to get more than half an hour without having to come back or someone interrupts us.'' Harry continued to lie down, hugging her waist and with his eyes closed, feeling safer than in the whole his life, almost sleeping with the calm movement of her chest rising and falling, her heart beating at the same rate as his being the best lullaby.
‘’Um ... in your room? I can manage to sneak into your bed’’ The boy barely opened his eyes, adjusting himself even more in the middle of her soft breasts, not paying much attention to where he was actually lying, just enjoying the moment
‘’Do you want your brother to cut my balls off? I always thought they might be a little useful to you at one time or another, you know’’ Ginny laughed, and Harry thought he had heard her laugh more often than in all the years they had spent together, which made him very proud
‘’Didn’t I say I’m going to protect you? Besides, I can use your cloak.'' He sighed, intoxicated by her scent, feeling the drowsiness building up behind his eyelids, and maybe just for that reason, he agreed with that crazy and suicidal idea of taking her to his dorm late of the night. The same one where he slept with her brother and his best friend (and let's not even talk about her ex, but Harry didn't really think Dean interfered much)
[...]
When night came, Harry barely remembered his commitment to Ginny, he took his shower, put on his pajama pants and kept his shirt off, the heat forcing him to do so. He and Ron talked about commonplace things and discussed the new magazine that his friend had purchased, which was far from familiar and educational.
‘‘I think she’s great’’ Seamus commented, tossed on his bed and looking at the page Ron had marked as the best of all
‘‘It’s the tattoo’’ Dean sighed ‘’Harry, what’s your opinion?’’ For some reason he thought Dean had questioned him mainly because he was on a tightrope about any answer he could give. Agree with that, Ron could end up with his balls, since he dated his younger sister. Not to agree, they would know he was lying, because Ashley was such a hot woman, there was no denying it, and even Ginny would confirm that.
He preferred to shrug ‘‘I think there are better’’ Basic, simple, and that implied that his girlfriend was in that circle - which was true, because only Merlin knows how many baths Harry has been taking lately.
When everyone finally decided to sleep, Harry closed his curtains, trying not to remember his girlfriend too much so he could really rest, but unable to avoid remembering her smell or the feeling of his kisses on her neck. Or when she was kneeling in the middle of his legs, reading a magazine and resting her head on one of his knees, looking barely paying attention to the fact that Harry was about to pass out.
‘‘Hey’’ Harry almost reached the bedroom ceiling when she whispered into his cubicle, Gin’s floating head popping out between the curtains as she smiled gloriously, raising her wand and casting protective spells over there. ‘’Nice chest’’ And with an almost idiotic shame, he pulled the cover up higher, protecting himself from the redhead who seemed to vibrate with excitement
''What the fuck are you doing here?'' She took off his cloak - which he didn't know how the hell she had stolen -, wore adorable pink shorts, not much shorter than he used to see her, the old shirt was a little tight and showing some of its creamy skin. Gin pulled the cloak off her body, and settling down beside him, smiling from ear to ear as she got comfortable on the other half of the pillow, right next to Harry still shocked
‘’Didn’t we agree?’’ Ginny wrapped her cold arm around his waist, pulling him to lie down again, burying her face in his bare chest. That at this point, it was echoing the violent beating of his heart ‘’You agreed with me’’
‘’I had my head on your breasts. I would agree to die’’ She laughed, shrugging and crawling up a little, coming face to face with him, noses a few inches away
‘’Please don’t agree to die just because it’s close to my breast’’ The brown eyes were quite dark due to the lack of light, but Harry could still see some of that caramel color that he loved so much. Only now, it looked a lot more like the color of the firewhiskey, and he would be drunk easily if they stayed that close.
‘’What are you doing here?’’ This time he laughed ‘’If Ron sees us ...’’
'' ..He's not going, we're protected'' Ginny came even closer, and instinctively he closed his eyes, smelling the delicious scent of flowers ''I just wanted to be with you, no worries that in a few minutes we need to run to some classroom or library ... Besides, I just need to get out of here a little bit before everyone wakes up, so we have a lot of time'' And she ended the distance, kissing him with an almost new calm, holding his face and tilting her body closer and closer to Harry's.
His hands were lost at the end of her spine, going down the delicious curve that ended in her soft ass, then passing through the firm thighs and staying there, before going up all over again and strolling through the ribs and stopping on the side of her left breast, who without much effort, Harry realized was unprotected from a bra. He groaned in his girlfriend's mouth, just at the thought.
"You're going to be the cause of my death," Ginny laughed, rolling them around until Harry was on his back on the mattress and she could mount him with agility, moving away from his lips and looking like the most beautiful thing he had ever seen .
''I'm happy to be me and not any other girl. Or the you-know-who’’ Harry smiled, happy that they were there, blinking almost anesthetized at the sight of her in his lap
''So do I, '' He admitted, like a fool in love who was ''You look beautiful'' He meant that he was never worried about his future, or any shit related to Horcrux when he was beside her, that he never he was as peaceful and happy as he was in those last days, that he never felt so ... alive. He also meant that he loved her, and that he was terrified of that feeling because he had never experienced anything like it.
''You're looking at me like that funny'' Even in the darkness, he could see her blush ''Stop it'' Ginny laughed, covering her boyfriend's face with her hands, and Harry bet his fortune that she looked like a tomato at that moment
‘’Can’t I say you’re beautiful anymore?’’ He would laugh next to her, spread her hands and look at her again
‘’No, I prefer you to kiss me’’ Harry who wouldn’t argue against that argument, leaning over to grab it again and get back to the common snogging between the two.
But it didn't seem like that was in Ginny's mind, not when she curiously ran her hands down Harry's bare chest and scraped her nails on the small dark hair path under his navel, over his pajamas and making him lose his breath
‘’Gin ... ’’ It sounded more like a snarl, the small hand touching him there, seeming to discover his entire territory, and consequently making him wake up completely.
‘’Let me do this’’ She asked, sucking on that tender spot behind his ear ‘‘I want to know what it’s like’’ Harry could die now, he decided, his balls retracting with the light feather stroke she was giving him
The kisses continued, much more fervent and hotter than they had ever been, Harry let his hands roam around her sides and with an impulsiveness that only came when he was close to Ginny, he grabbed her delicious breasts, as if they were the two most valuable snitch from the world, moaning at the sensation of softness against his rough hand and almost burning when she did the same in his mouth.
The caresses continued and Ginny started to move her hips in an almost deadly friction with Harry, looking inert to the movements she was making.
‘’Teach me’’ She asked euphorically, biting his lip before opening her burning eyes. Harry winced when her hand ventured into his already tight underwear.
Not knowing if he would be able to speak, he dropped one hand until he found hers, looking intently at his girlfriend as he wrapped her fingers around his own, squeezing a little more and adjusting to be as he liked, barely able to breathe when they started the movements together.
Tempted to simply close his eyes and fall back on the bed, Harry forced himself to continue exploring Ginny, because as much as it was delicious to feel her jerking off to him, the boy didn't want to be the only one to feel that happy.
''If you do that I won't be able to concentrate'' She moaned as he kissed her freckled collarbone, while his left hand also curiously dropped to the middle of her legs, feeling incredibly big and powerful when he realized that Ginny it was hot and humid.
'' We can handle it'' He kissed her mouth again ''I also need you to teach me'' Harry swallowed the grunt when Ginny's fingers ran under his balls, massaging them with a little care, as if she didn't know whether she was doing it right or not ''Fuck!'' His eyes rolled with sensation, his hips pushing up and making him lose consciousness for a few seconds
Ginny's free hand helped him into her panties, which meant that she had to get out of his lap and lie down on his side again, one leg still wrapped around his waist so he could gain space. Her folds were soft and slippery, and Harry did his best to remember when Seamus had brought that book about female anatomy, struggling to find Ginny's clitoris.
‘’Harry ... ’’ She moaned when he finally found it, squeezing it a little harder and almost making him come
''Gin .. '' He bit her shoulder, trying to contain himself with excitement as he adjusted to the pace that seemed to please the redhead, who started to become really noisy, moving her hips harder, her hand on Harry's cock gaining the same speed as his fingers.
‘’Harry’’ She moaned when he left only his thumb on her clitoris, curiously placing a finger inside it, which she squeezed like a vise, so hot that Harry thought he might be burned. They were no longer able to kiss or articulate coherent words, Harry was totally worried about not coming until he made Ginny at least get close
''Slow down if you don't want me to finish before you do'' He whispered a little lost, being very brave and putting another finger inside her, before heard her swallow a scream and then take it off quickly, feeling like an idiot for doing that ''Sorry!''
‘‘Don’t worry, put it on again’’ Ginny loosened her grip on his cock a little, finally looking at him, looking like a fucking Greek goddess in front of him. And Harry followed her request, hearing she moan gloriously as she pressed herself against his fingers
‘’I swear I’m going to pass out’’ He spoke again as soon as she combined the rhythm of his fingers with her hand. She laughed, looking a lot more amused than Harry thought appropriate for that moment
''Sorry, but I said I was going to lose my concentration'' And then they started kissing again, calmer, but without losing the rhythm of their hands, both of them climbing up to that cliff that looked too tempting not to jump, Harry coming there first, in a cut groan that seemed to break his skin, a thousand times better than any handjob alone in the bath, making him have blurred vision and lose his strength, letting his face fall in the curve of Ginny's neck, like a drunk after many firewhisky bottles.
Tempted to make her feel the same, he continued his work on his girlfriend, feeling her tighter and tighter, her nails digging into his shoulder blades as she moaned in his ear, her chest rising unevenly and his name coming out in the last seconds before finally coming, getting much more slippery and wet, as well as being red as fire.
Harry never thought she was as beautiful as she was then.
‘’That ... ’’ Ginny lowered her leg from Harry’s waist, swallowing hard as she looked at him in awe
‘’I hope your spell is really good’’ And as if only now she realized where she was, she opened her eyes wide, putting her hand over her mouth and blushing even more
"Did you ever wonder if we made too much noise?" Harry took his wand, cleaning up the mess they had made and then adjusting her and his pajamas before covering them again - at some point, the blanket had been tossed away from the bed - returning to settle on her soft breasts, feeling the happiest man in the world
''Your brother would have come here to kill me, you can be sure'' Harry assured me ''Gin, I ... '' Then he stopped, thinking that he couldn't lock her up like that, not when - now that his consciousness was finally back - he didn't know if he could be alive tomorrow. It would be unfair, and he would never forgive himself ‘’How did you get my cloak?’’ She smiled, snuggling closer and wrapping one of her legs around his waist, as if he were a big pillow
''I have my secrets .. '' Ginny kissed his forehead, not far from the scar, but none of them noticed, not at that moment at least, and Harry couldn't explain why he felt so safe and ... loved, but he was too tired to dissect his own mind.
The two slept embraced, tired, and the following year, when he fled on his suicide mission, feeling helpless and afraid, he used that memory as a refuge, finally realizing that Ginny had been the first person to touch his scar lovingly, and Harry was sure that she was the woman of his life, he just wasn't sure if he would have the chance to be the man of her
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