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watcheraurora · 3 months

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Break

I found out sometime within the last year that people in the fandom interpret Mumbo as a vampire and I kinda love that 3.05k words

CW: consensual vampire feeding, lots of mentions of blood but nothing super graphic, some sensuality between characters, some discussions of addiction

—

Mumbo Jumbo

Mumbo dusted off his hands and looked around, a satisfied smile on his face. The vault was done. Perfect. Protected and private. With no way for Grian to get in without breaking blocks. Mumbo knew the trick to get in, of course, but he wasn't telling Grian.

He glanced up at the tinted glass panels in the ceiling. It allowed him to see the outside without the sunlight actually coming through and burning him.

He took a deep breath. He'd been going, going, going for a long time with next to no stopping. He was planning on taking a break as soon as the vault was done. And now it was.

He crossed the vault floor to the bed he'd set up for himself and glanced up at the tinted glass again.

Slow and careful, he reached under the collar and necktie of his suit and withdrew his talisman. A gift from Grian not long after he joined the server. The necklace was a sturdy iron chain with a red crystal charm. The crystal was smelted redstone, according to Grian. Although Mumbo had tried smelting redstone dust and it didn't actually do anything. So he chose not to ask. Grian worked in mysterious ways that no one could ever seem to figure out or replicate.

The talisman provided him protection from the sun. Let him walk around during the day indefinitely without fear of turning to ash. What once required a secret potion recipe that he'd have to constantly brew and replenish to make sure he never ran out of time no longer took that much effort.

If nothing else, he was indebted to Grian for life for that one.

Ready to sling it back on at a moment's notice, Mumbo took the talisman off. He braced, waiting for the sunlight to breach the tinted glass and fry him, giving him a sunburn if he couldn't get the talisman back on fast enough.

Nothing happened. He didn't start burning. His skin didn't begin to flake or turn to ash. He was fine.

"Tinted glass works," he noted to himself.

Quickly, he surrounded his bed with trapdoors for an extra layer of protection and proper coffin etiquette before climbing inside. He sent a quick message to Grian.

Time for my break. Tell the other Hermits I won't be active for a while. And I'll see you when I see you, I suppose.

He was just starting to settle in properly when Grian's reply came.

Enjoy your break, mate. We'll miss you. I'll pass the word on. See you when it's over.

Mumbo smiled. "I'll miss you too, bud," he said softly to himself before burrowing down. He crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes. Maybe he'd wake up in six months, maybe a year. Who knew? His alarm was set to ring a year and a day from now, to keep him from oversleeping. But he needed this time to recharge.

Sleep swept over him faster than he'd ever experienced before. A testament to his exhaustion.

And Mumbo sunk deep into unconsciousness.

—

Grian

Grian landed on top of Mumbo's vault, peering inside through the tinted glass panels in the ceiling.

Once-a-week he stopped by just to check on things. The vault was sealed so well that he hadn't even seen dust coating the tops of the storage chests yet.

Carefully, Grian plopped down on the roof and lounged back, letting the sun warm his wings. "Hey Mumbo," he greeted casually. Knowing his friend couldn't hear him. "Just wanted to stop by and say hello. Give you the weekly update. It's been a lot quieter since the Empires crew left. Sorry I was gone for a few weeks, by the way. Dunno if I apologized for that yet. Can't remember. It was nice to see them. Spend time with old friends. Wish you'd been here for it." Grian cleared his throat.

"Anyway. Tango's back in his hole. We can't get him out. He's determined to finish that game. Scar's tried everything. He occasionally manages to get Tango to leave for a brief excursion to look at new things, but it never lasts.

"Er... what else... Doc's perimeter is still big and empty. Well. Empty-ish. Who knows what he actually gets up to in a big square pit. Er... Scar's theme park is absolutely incredible. Making a lot of progress there. My rocks are still rocky. Impulse has taken on too many projects, as usual. Also, Cub and Cleo are both making museums to commemorate the season. It's becoming a funny little competition. It's going to be so much fun."

He took a deep breath and looked down at the coffin that hadn't moved in months. "Miss you, bud," he finished.

Pushing to his feet, he adjusted his wings and took off. Back across the bridge toward his own base. The towering rocks hung as they always did.

On the first building he'd made, the one with the Greek columns, he sat himself on his bed and typed out a message.

Whenever you're ready, Pearl.

After a moment, he heard the soft fluttering of wings. Pearl's lunar moth wings folded back, twitching lightly. "Hi," she greeted with her usual smile.

"Hello," Grian replied.

"Ready?"

Grian nodded.

"I brought more of Scar's cookies." She set a stack of them on the chest next to Grian's bed.

"Thanks," he replied.

"You don't have to keep doing this, you know. He'll be fine."

"You've never seen him wake up after this long asleep." Grian rolled up the sleeve of his jumper. "He's going to need it."

Pearl didn't assume her usual position standing next to where he sat, instead pausing near the chest. "G, I'm worried," she said.

"What for?"

She raised a brow sarcastically. "Grian. You know what you're like, compared to the rest of us."

"You don't want him to drink Watcher blood."

Pearl made a face. "I'm scared that if he does, nothing else will ever satisfy him. You're the only person on the server with blood that potent. I don't want him to get addicted."

Grian took a turn to raise a brow. "You think he's never had my blood before?"

"I'm not answering that," Pearl said decisively. "Because I don't want to know. Don't give me any context for that. Ever." She shook her head.

Grian stuck his arm out. "He'll need as much nutrients and magic as he can get to replenish when he wakes up. Might as well be from the most magic-rich blood on the server."

Pearl took a deep breath and sighed before opening another of Grian's haphazard chests and rifling through it for the equipment to draw his blood. "If he gets addicted, it's your fault and I don't want you complaining to me about it," she said, defeated and a little snappish.

"Yes ma'am," Grian replied with a smirk.

"Lean back and relax," Pearl muttered.

—

Mumbo Jumbo

When he opened his eyes, the coffin was dark. When he opened the coffin, the vault was dark. Stars shone through the tinted glass ceiling.

He pulled himself out of the coffin and stretched. His body was stiff as a board and his joints were sticky.

Once he was loosened up enough to walk, he pulled the talisman on and tucked it down the front of his shirt. The chain and crystal were frigid against his chest—and coming from a vampire who generated no body heat and was quite cold himself, that was saying a lot.

He waited only a few moments for the daylight to return. A little message pinging the server that BdoubleO100 had slept. Followed by a general message from Bdubs to someone else to stop breaking his bed. Mumbo chuckled. Some things never changed.

He checked his calendar. He'd been asleep for nearly a year.

No wonder his mouth was dry. But at least he beat his alarm.

He left his vault and looked across the bridge toward Grian's base. It had made quite a lot of progress, but was currently sitting silent.

Mumbo shook his shoulders, releasing his bat wings. He could have walked, but the wings needed the stretch too.

He glided from his vault to Grian's base. "G?" he called, looking around the Greek building. "Grian!" Where the floor of the building ended, a large cavern opened up. The enormous rock was hollow. "Grian, where are you?" He moved to go search the other rocks—only to yelp.

Pearl was rifling through one of Grian's open chests. Mumbo hadn't even noticed her there. "He's not here, mate," Pearl said. He realized she was organizing the chest, dressed in her cleaning lady overalls, her moth wings opening and closing slowly.

"What—what do you mean? What do you mean Grian's not here? How's he not here? Is he in the shopping district?"

"No. He's not on Hermitcraft at all. He had to go home."

Mumbo's eyebrows scrunched. "What do you mean? Hermitcraft is his home."

Pearl scoffed. "Then you don't know him as well as you think you do, mate," she muttered, finishing organizing the chest. She stood up. "When did you meet him? Before he came here?"

"Yeah. But... not by much."

She bounced her eyebrows but said nothing. Instead, she beckoned him with a wave to follow her. He did, trailing after her deeper into the hollow rock to where a shulker box sat, hidden in shadow. "Here," she said, pointing at it. "He stockpiled these for you. For when you woke up."

Curious, Mumbo opened the shulker box.

It was surrounded on all sides by packed ice. Unmelting.

Resting in the middle was ten bags of blood. A purple eye was stamped into the plastic of every single one.

Mumbo felt his fangs aching just at the sight of it. All of the Hermits were kind enough to donate some blood to him whenever he needed it—and he tried to stretch that time out as long as possible—but after nearly a year of being unconscious, his control was shaky.

He snatched one up, popped the spout open, and drank the whole thing down to its last drop. Clarity flooded his mind that he hadn't really realized had been foggy until the fog was gone.

"Okay. I can think now," he said. "What do you mean he's gone home?"

"Just surprised he never told you."

"What, that he's a Watcher?"

"No, I knew you knew that," Pearl retorted. "I'm surprised he never told you that home for him is still there. With the Watchers."

"But... he never leaves."

"That you've noticed," Pearl muttered under her breath, dripping with sarcasm. "Did you really think all his holidays were just him jaunting over to some friends' servers to lie on a beach or see what they've built?"

"... Yeah?"

"Then that's on you, buddy." Pearl dusted off the knees of her coveralls. "He goes home to the Watchers. He likes spending most of his time on Hermitcraft, but he has to go home sometimes."

"He told me he doesn't care much for them." Mumbo closed the shulker box, picked it up and put it away in his inventory.

"He doesn't. But he loves their stronghold. Their base, if you will." Pearl looked around. "He'll be back in a week or so. Try not to get addicted to his blood, yeah?"

"What do you mean?"

"He has the most magic-dense blood on the server. No one else here is as powerful as a Watcher. And that level of magic in someone's blood can help you get back to yourself nicely, but don't let your brain get dependent on it."

"Don't drink all his blood at once, is what you're saying," Mumbo said.

"Basically." She looked around. "Grian wasn't the only one stockpiling while you were gone. I have some for you too. So does Iskall and Impulse. I've got them all at my base. Grian was the only one who kept his here since your base is so close. Come with me. I'll pass them along."

"Oh. Yeah. Alright then."

—

Grian

A general ping went across the server. Mumbo has reached the following goal—

Grian didn't bother reading the rest. Mumbo was back!

He bolted, unfurling his wings and beating them at the air to take off. Liftoff for a human-sized creature with wings took a lot of strength and energy. Rockets were best as a way to take off and conserve energy, but sometimes he was fine just to use his wings.

He flew to Mumbo's base. Mumbo wasn't there. The achievement was something he must have done elsewhere.

Grian hurriedly put together a welcome-home party of decorations. Music, bottles o' enchanting, flowers, table and chairs. Possibly too many of his own heads on dripstone like a strange attempt at fairy lights.

And he waited.

After a while, Mumbo returned. "You're back! Yeah!" Grian screeched in excitement. Mumbo grinned, a little baffled, his fangs shining in the light of the bottles o' enchanting shattering into magic.

"Hey, I got back and you were the one gone!" Mumbo protested. "I had to get your delivery from Pearl."

"Oh she did give you the blood bags, then?"

"Yeah. I appreciated it."

Grian smiled, preening a little at the warmth in Mumbo's words. "I'm glad it could help."

"It did. Not quite as good chilled, but I appreciated it nonetheless."

"I mean, if you need some warm, fresh, all you have to do is ask."

Mumbo raised a brow. "You sure you're ready for that?" Playfulness colored his tone.

Grian laughed. "I'm fine. Last time I drew blood was months ago at this point and I recover faster than the average mortal. Since, y'know, I'm not mortal."

Mumbo chuckled at that. "Well, I, uh... I'd appreciate something fresh, actually."

"Just ask."

"Can I? Please?"

"Always."

In a blur of movement that only came with a vampire's speed, Grian felt the wind knocked out of him as he sunk just slightly into the honey-and-slime-block back of the vault door. His wings vanished as the impact started—Watcher power—to protect them from being shattered.

Mumbo towered over Grian, his eyes fully black and his fangs more prominent than they'd been a moment ago. "I know what you're like, Grian," Mumbo said, voice low. "Don't squirm."

Grian wasn't an Avian before he became a Watcher. His wings were Watcher wings, not Avian ones. He was a restless person, but he wasn't as flighty as an actual Avian. Still, the gleam in Mumbo's eye made a shiver pass down Grian's spine. "I'll try."

"It'll just hurt more if you can't hold still. You know that."

Before Grian could say anything, Mumbo bent down and hovered just over Grian's neck. His right hand—which had previously been pinning Grian's shoulder to the squishy, sticky blocks behind them—cupped Grian's jaw and tilted his head out of the way, stretching his neck a little more taut and freeing up some room for Mumbo to put his head.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Mmhmm."

A sharp, stabbing pain shot through Grian as Mumbo bit him. His body went rigid. But the pain passed quickly and he was able to relax. A flood of calm rushed over his systems from the natural sedative that coated Mumbo's fangs. Grian felt his eyes roll back a little, his head flopping almost to his opposite shoulder. His hand that had been freed from Mumbo's grip on his shoulder reached up and curled around the collar of Mumbo's suit and shirt. His fingertips brushed the cold metal of the talisman necklace.

Mumbo pressed a little closer, a quiet sigh escaping his nose. Grian's whole body rolled, seeking the contact. Mumbo's grip on Grian's other shoulder tightened, pushing the both of them more firmly against the honey and slime blocks. His other hand released Grian's jaw and slowly explored lower, coming to rest over Grian's pounding heart.

Mumbo's heart didn't beat. Grian couldn't feel Mumbo's exhilaration the same way Mumbo could feel Grian's. But Grian was a Watcher that could feed on any emotion from any sentient being less powerful than his kind. He drank in Mumbo's exhilaration as Mumbo drank his blood. It tasted like candy that fizzled and popped in the mouth. Zinging around as he took it in. Mumbo lost nothing by Grian feeding off him. But Grian could feel the pulling sensation of Mumbo sucking his blood.

His fist tightened around Mumbo's collar, pulling them closer. His other shoulder was still pinned to the wall by Mumbo, but his hand could move enough to cup Mumbo's hip and drag them together.

Mumbo hummed in contentment. His head tilted a little, drinking deeper. Grian couldn't stop the noise that left his throat. Not quite a moan, but easily mistaken for one. He pretended he didn't feel Mumbo smiling against the sensitive skin of his neck.

It was over as quickly as it had begun. The black of Mumbo's eyes had retreated, revealing the natural red. He'd always been good at feeding cleanly. All he did was lick a trace of blood off his lower lip and fangs, and the evidence that he'd drank at all was gone.

His grip on Grian's shoulder slowly eased off before vanishing. He took a step back. The lack of pressure against Grian made him blink in confusion for a moment before his mind caught up. The Watcher magic in his body fought off the sedative quickly, bringing him back to himself. Grian swallowed thickly. "Better?" he asked.

"Yeah. You alright? You, uh... went a little hazy there." Mumbo's left hand closed over the puncture wounds in the right side of Grian's neck. He could feel the holes closing already.

"I'm fine, I'm fine." He waved his hand dismissively. A flash of purple light and the wound in his neck was gone, like it had never been there to begin with. Not even a scar left behind. "I guess I just... forgot what that felt like."

Mumbo raised a brow. "Did you like it?"

A foggy sort of pleasure still clouded Grian's brain, lingering after the sedative was purged. "Obviously."

Mumbo smirked in self-satisfaction. "I could tell by that noise you made."

"Shut up," Grian retorted with a grin.

#Hermitshipping #Watcher!Grian #Vampire!Mumbo #Hermitcraft fic #Aurora Writes #Rory Writes #characters not CC's obviously #briefly featuring Pearl

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aladaylessecondblog · 14 days

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How to Get Off Skooma (420 day chapter)

Author's Note: This most likely WILL be in Severed Destiny. Martin works for Vivec as a servant, he took the job to avoid getting put in prison for defacing the temple (thanks Sanguine)

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Never did Haj-deek regret her room being so close to her father's (and Nerevar's, which had had to be added next to her mother's), as she did right now. Several nights in a row she'd wake up, and hear, well...rocking. And moaning.

A pillow over the head did nothing to muffle the noise. And they said SHE had to be supervised. How FUNNY when THEY were the ones acting like this on a nightly basis. And that wasn't even mentioning the racket from Vivec and Uncle Odros - really, they didn't HAVE to stay the night after Vivec and she finished the yearly renewal of their power from the Heart. (Even more puzzling was how her father hadn't realized yet.)

After a few moments she decided to sit up and head outside...she was beginning to feel the need for another dose of skooma anyway.

Haj-deek hastily dressed and headed on outside.

She lit a light spell and headed towards the spot she'd hidden. A little alcove of stone she'd cover up with ash and pebbles and rotted bits of scathecraw leaves. Outside. Her father and Dagoth Ulen were still doing weekly sweeps of her room, and so inside was no longer a safe place to hide it.

There was a hole there and she felt a surge of panic. Had a cliffracer gotten in, knocked it around and out while looking for something to eat? Where was it?

She turned this way and that, looking everywhere--until she heard a couple footsteps behind her.

"Oh, Martin, it's you. I..." and trying to sound more normal, lest he catch on why she was there, she took a deep breath and pasted on a smile to match her tone. "I guess you couldn't sleep either."

"Yes, as it turns out...Lord Vivec invited your uncle to his room for, uh...important discussions. And given I am one door away..."

"That happened to me too. Just...it wasn't Lord Vivec making all the noise. I'd rather not talk about it."

"And neither would I. Perhaps we could discuss something else. Like the walk we both seem to be taking. Though you do look rather upset...I hope you aren't looking for anything."

Haj-deek groaned slightly. "Well, not exactly, but I...I...YOU!"

The need was stronger, and it wasn't a trivial effort to stop herself hitting the man before her. He wasn't smirking or anything, just watching her placidly. But it was still infuriating.

"Yes, my lady, me. Don't look so surprised that I figured it out. When Lord Vivec and I walked up the path yesterday, and encountered you--do you think I didn't notice your eyes? The twitchiness? I was a champion of Sanguine. You can't be showing obvious signs of addiction and tell me you're not on the stuff."

"That stuff was expensive, Martin. And if you think I'm not going to tell--"

"Yes, I'm sure your father would just love to hear that you're taking skooma. Lord Vivec may not have noticed or cared if he did, but I'm sure any decent father would be happy his daughter's supply was cut off. Honestly - Balmora Blue? Do you know what a bad idea it is to get onto such a pure strain?"

Haj-deek gave a slight and frustrated shout. "You don't understand, you can't just--I NEED a dose of it."

"So it's gotten to that point, has it? Well, let me introduce you to what helped ME kick the habit. Healing potions for the pain, and a little thing I managed to get growing here in Morrowind."

From the pocket of his robe Martin produced a couple wads of paper--or what she'd assumed was a wad of paper. They looked like cigars or something. After a bit of smoothing out Martin handed her one.

"Light the blunt and breathe in. Hold it in for a few seconds, then breathe out. And let the plant do all the work."

Grumbling, Haj-deek obeyed. She comforted herself with the fact that even if he had taken the skooma for himself, Vivec would just toss it out.

--------------------------------------------

*Thirty Minutes Later* ---------------------------

A hazy cloud surrounded them.

"So Lord Vivec sends me out with the spear, and...the rest is history. Ha, like I didn't know he was just doing that to keep me busy. Get Muatra polished, he says, like I wouldn't know what that means and the joke he was trying to..."

A laugh burst from Haj-deek's lips when she exhaled the next bit of smoke.

"That...ha...that sounds like him." Another giggle. "Sorry, I...I didn't mean to laugh at you like that."

Martin took another drag on his own blunt and gave an easy-toned reply, "No it's fine, this stuff makes you do that."

"Really?"

"Yes, it's...very good for relaxing...mellowing you out. Can result in a bit of laughter." There was a pause. "You know, I just realized something. I haven't seen anything growing around here...what in Oblivion do you eat?"

"Well, we've started growing SOME things, but...but I...I'll just take you to our food storage. We've got some REALLY good sweetrolls..."

#nerevarine #fanfiction #morrowind #dagoth ur #martin septim #skooma #420 #pot #munchies

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lifeofkaze · 1 year

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Flight or Fancy

A/N: This story was written for the April prompt of the @hp-12monthsofmagic challenge. Ethel Hexley and Madam Khanna (in mention) belong to @the-al-chemist, Lysander Mercury to @slytherindisaster, Ema McGilliguddy (in mention) and Professor MacMillan to @kc-and-co

It had all started very harmlessly, really.

Like most of their peers, Selene and Ethel had spent their afternoon in the library, preparing for their end-of-year exams. They had worked hard on their studies, so that after several hours of revising Transfiguration laws, incantations, and Potion recipes, Ethel had suggested they take the well-deserved break they were obviously due.

To give their plagued minds some respite, the two aspiring young witches had found their way to the poetry section of the library and were soon immersed in their favourite works. Their vigour renewed, they carried their pickings back to their table, reciting poignant passages back to one another as they went.

Ethel was of the strong opinion that poetry wasn’t something to be merely read - it was something to be experienced. So when a particularly riveting stanza gripped her, she and Selene climbed upon the long table running between the bookshelves, marching back and forth with books in hand and calling their partly bewildered, partly resigned-looking fellow students to rise in the fight against oppression and tyranny.

Madam Khanna, the librarian, evidently didn’t share their enthusiasm.

Some angry remarks, an outraged discussion, and two temporary library bans later, Ethel and Selene had found themselves equipped with weekly detention until the end of term, which was exactly where the two of them were currently spending their time.

With the impending exams, the temper in the student body had run high lately, so the classroom where detention was held was fuller than usual. Sighing, Ethel looked gloomily at the half-filled parchment in front of her.

‘I shalt not recite poetry whilst marching upon furniture. I shalt not call my peers to revolution. I shalt not call any member of the staff an operative of an oppressive system,’ stood there in neat lines, just as it did on the stack of parchment next to her. Ethel snorted to herself. As if she had done anything condemnable. What harm had she done, even? Wasn’t it the point of school to equip themselves with the means to scrutinise established truths? They really should make up their minds about this and not let her suffer the effects of their inconsistencies.

Looking up, she caught the eye of Selene, who had been several tables away from Ethel. They had shared a seat in the beginning, like they were wont to do, but Professor Ronen, the Charms teacher overseeing their detention, had soon put a stop to that and created as much space between the two friends as the room would allow; another thing Ethel thought simply outrageous.

The busy scratching of quills on parchment was broken when the door to the classroom swung open, and Professor Hecat, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, poked her head inside. Professor Ronen immediately rose from his seat to meet her. A few subdued words were passed between them, then Ronen turned and pointed at Selene and a girl with light brown hair, big eyes, and emerald green robes.

“Misses Fraser and McGilliguddy, you are to help Professor Hecat prepare her lessons. You are dismissed.”

Giving Ethel an apologetic look, Selene gathered up her things and followed Ema McGilliguddy and Professor Hecat from the room. Ethel watched after them with dismay. She and Selene had wanted to head for the Quidditch pitch for some broom racing after detention, but helping the old witch would take forever.

Her plans for the rest of the day thwarted for good, Ethel quietly huffed, dipping her quill into her inkwell with more force than strictly necessary. Everything about this was so entirely unfair.

“Hexley.”

Ethel stiffened. Just what she needed right now.

“Hexley.”

Ethel gritted her teeth, stubbornly adding another line to her steadily filling page.

“Hey, Hexley!”

“I can’t hear you, Lysander,” she muttered, the slight lilt to her voice doing nothing to mask her annoyance.

“With those ears of yours? Improbable.”

“What do you want?” Ethel growled, turning sharply in her seat to glower at the grinning boy behind her. Before Lysander Mercury could reply, however, the sound of Professor Ronen clearing his throat echoed through the classroom.

“Does there seem to be a problem, Miss Hexley?”

“No, Professor,” Ethel said, glaring at Lysander one last time before turning in her seat again. “Everything’s in perfect order.”

Giving her a warning look, Professor Ronen turned back to his exam papers.

“As subtle as an Erumpent in a china shop,” Lysander’s amused snicker reached Ethel’s ear a moment later. “And about as elegant.”

“And about as effective at crushing you. Care to let me try?”

“You’d have to catch me first. They do say I’m quite swift.”

“What the mind lacks…”

“Enough to beat you on the pitch, though.”

“Sure, by cheating.”

“Not what the referee said.”

“Oh, go stick a quill up your nose.”

“How witty.”

“I’m done having this conversation,” Ethel declared, making to turn back around. She stopped when Lysander leaned across his table toward her.

“You don’t want to know my secret, then?”

“Is it about how to grow yourself a brain?”

“Why, are you in need of one?”

Ethel rolled her eyes. “Just tell me already and let me enjoy my detention in peace.”

Smirking, Lysander leaned back in his seat.

“No.”

“What do you mean, no?”

“I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to tell you anymore.”

Ethel opened her mouth in outrage. “You cannot be serious.”

“I can assure you that I am.”

“Then I, in turn, can assure you that I do not care,” Ethel answered stuffily, returning her attention to her parchment. She paused, turning back to Lysander a moment later.

“You know it’s incredibly impolite to vex me so.”

“So you do care.”

“That’s not what I said at all.”

“Yes, it absolutely is.”

Lysander’s grin was wiped off his face when Ethel drew her wand and pointed it at his inkwell. It rose above the drawing Lysander had been working on instead of doing lines, slowly tipping to the side.

“You don’t want to do that, Hexley.”

“I most certainly do.”

Ethel could see the cogs turning in Lysander’s probably rather dusty brain as he attempted to take her measure. Having come to a conclusion, he leaned in and conspiratorially whispered:

“Fine, I’ll tell you. I know how to get out of here.”

Ethel stared. “How?”

Lysander looked like a Kneazle before a bowl of cream. “You’d like to know that, wouldn’t you?”

“Evidently. Your idiotic plans never fail to amuse me.”

“It’s not idiotic, it’s infallible.”

“Naturally.”

“So, do you want to know or not?”

Ethel felt like a headache was coming. “I do.”

A self-contented sigh left Lysander’s lips. “What do I get for telling you?”

The inkwell floated a little higher. “Not this against your forehead.”

“Not a very appealing offer.”

“Because it wasn’t an offer. Tell me now, or leave me alone.”

“Very well.” His eyes - today of a distinct turquoise colour - sparkled as he leaned a little closer. “Do what you do best - watch me.”

Wiggling his eyebrows, Lysander drew his wand and pointed it at the teacher’s desk. His lips moving in a silent incantation, the stacks of paperwork on Professor Ronen’s desk exploded up towards the ceiling, dancing in a vortex around him on their way down.

The classroom erupted in laughter, and even Ethel couldn’t help but bite back a chuckle at the sight of the red-cheeked professor trying to snatch his elusive exam papers from the air. When she turned in her seat to say something to Lysander, however, she found that he had disappeared.

Her brows drew together in a frown. It was just like Lysander to promise her a way out and then leave her behind without so much as a word. Much to her astonishment, there was a small but distinct sting of something that felt almost like disappointment.

Just as Professor Ronen had gathered his scrolls of parchment and righted his hat, the classroom door opened once more. This time, the red-haired head of Professor MacMillan, one of the Herbology teachers and head of Ravenclaw House, appeared in the doorway.

“Abraham, I will need to abduct Miss Hexley,” the teacher smiled good-heartedly. “There appear to be some pests in Greenhouse Two. They are making the worst clamour with my pots. I need Miss Hexley’s excellent hearing abilities to identify their whereabouts.”

Where Ethel had been astounded to hear Professor MacMillan request her assistance before, she now bit down on her lip hard. She stiffly rose from her seat, handed her parchment to Professor Ronen and stalked from the room.

“A pest problem, really?” she snorted as soon as the door had closed behind her.

Professor MacMillan, whose eyes had begun turning from greyish-blue to turquoise again, grinned.

“It’s intense. I swear, their presence seems to have intensified this very second.”

Ethel took a deep breath. “I will have you know that -”

She came no further because, from within the classroom, an angry cry could be heard.

“Hexley! Mercury!”

Lysander, whose once more fair hair still carried streaks of red, swallowed.

“Uh oh,” he said, laughing as he ducked his head. “Time to go, Hexley.”

Before Ethel could object, Lysander grabbed her by the wrist, dragging her behind him and away from the classroom door in which Professor Ronen had appeared. Ethel didn’t hear what he was calling after them anymore, her ears filled with the pounding of hers and Lysander’s steps on the ancient flagstone floor.

It took them about the time they needed to round two corners before their flight turned into a race. Ethel and Lysander were almost of a height, and Ethel glanced at him only briefly as she sped up to overtake him. Lysander did the same, trying to push her to the side as they skirted around corners and almost jumped down steps and stairs in vast, uncontrolled strides.

Soon, both of them were breathing heavily, and by the time they reached a spiral staircase that led both down into the dungeons and up in the direction of Gryffindor Tower, parts of Ethel’s hair had come undone, and Lysander’s cheeks were flushed a vivid red.

“You… lost… Hexley,” he panted, supporting his weight on his legs with his hands. The way he smirked at her through the strands of hair that had fallen into his face made Ethel jut her chin forward, even though her sides were stinging so badly she could hardly stand.

“You know what… they say… Mercury,” she said between two gulps of aid. “The last… shall be… first.”

“At least that way… you’ll win at least… this once.”

Ethel pushed herself off the wall she had been resting against, smoothing down the skirt of her uniform and glaring at Lysander. They stared at each other for a moment, neither of them so much as blinking. Then, Lysander ran a hand over his tousled hair before holding it out to Ethel.

“Well, that was fun.”

Ethel looked at his outstretched hand with a mixture of wariness and disgust.

“It absolutely wasn’t.”

“Just say ‘thank you’. It’s not that hard.”

“For what?” said Ethel stubbornly. “For dragging me around the castle without my consent?”

Lysander narrowed his eyes. “You’re insufferable, Hexley.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“Just so you’re aware - me helping you, that was a one-off.”

“It’d better was.”

Shrugging, Lysander turned to go. As he set foot onto the steps leading into the bowels of the castle, he looked over his shoulder.

“So, until next time?”

Rolling her eyes, Ethel turned in the opposite direction and stomped away. She was almost out of sight when she paused and looked back at Lysander, who stood exactly where she had left him.

“Until next time.”

#hphl #hogwarts legacy #ethel hexley #lysander mercury #selene fraser #hp12mom #twelve months of magic #a little ethelys gift for two very dear friends and incredible people 💛❤️

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alchemist-of-thebes · 9 months

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Weekly Story Snippet #4

Right in the middle of KH OC Week, here comes the next snippet from my current story-in-progress "Return to Eos". For anyone just here, this story follows the "Modern" Velcia in a journey to Eos (FFXV) set very shortly after KH3. In today's chapter, Velcia finds she needs to travel to a nearby forest to find ingredients to brew some special potions to help prepare for the journey to battle against the Heartless Adamantoise. Ignis accompanies her, and helps her to gather resources.

---

Velcia couldn't help but giggle at the sight of Ignis holding one of the truffles quite close to his face, inspecting it closely and nodding to himself in approval. He glanced over at her for a moment. "Something wrong?"

"Not at all," Velcia replied. "I just find it so fun that, even though our passions are so different, they still seem to have quite a bit in common."

Ignis raised an eyebrow, and he looked at her somewhat more deliberately now. "Passions?"

"I'm sorry, I meant with my potion-making and your passion for cooking," she clarified.

Ignis' face scrunched up momentarily, as if caught quite off guard, but he recovered and replied in a somewhat lower voice. "Truth be told, Miss Velcia, I have very little passion for the act of cooking itself."

"No! Surely you must?" Velcia gasped.

"It's true. I initially invested myself in learning to cook solely for the sake of being better able to serve my King. It wasn't until much later, after making a meal for Prompto, that I came to find any joy in it. That was more a satisfaction in having brought happiness to people through my cooking, rather than enjoying the cooking process itself," Ignis explained.

"But you seem so…" she trailed off, still somewhat stunned in disbelief.

"Enthusiastic? Yes indeed. I've learned to greatly enjoy sharing my food with others and have, after much practice, come to take great pride in my work. I always look forward to sharing and serving," Ignis told her.

Velcia shook her head slowly. "I would never have suspected!"

Ignis cracked a smile. "Well, it is not something I tend to discuss. Mum's the word, as they say. As long as I can serve my King to the utmost of my abilities, I am satisfied with my endeavors."

"I see…!" Velcia said, quite thrown-off by this revelation.

---

Truth be told, I was surprised as well to learn Ignis' little secret here - a detail revealed by the game's director in an interview. It's the sort of thing that feels like it accentuates some really interesting depths to his character, and so was the sort of detail I really wanted to make sure to include at some point! If you would like to read more of this chapter or this story, it can be found here: Archive of Our Own - Chapter 9 Fanfiction.net - Chapter 9

Thanks again for stopping by! Make sure to check out @khoc-week and see what other cool things have been created and shared by others!

#kingdom hearts #ffxv #kh oc #velcia

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regalfairytaleacademy · 9 months

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Regal Fairytale Academy's Building {Remastered}

According to lore, the Seven Fairies discovered the ancient chateau after performing a mission and defeating villains with convergence magic. Soon a miracle happened, they created an Immortal Stone.

After the task is completed, they return to the chateau with plans to rebuild it into a magic school, and they hope to share the lore with everyone. At the ceremony pavilion, the fairies put a stone on the Fate Flower, and inlaid seven gems around the edge of the flower.

The building is an extremely enormous and glamorous palace-like school. The under of bridge has a river is for the merfolks coming to the school from their underwater countries.

In the hallway, some of have covered all the green plants. And every where have chandeliers.

The school also custom a discussion room for dorm leaders and staffs to have a talk. Nevertheless, it prepare a library for them to study and research.

The pavilions where all located at every garden of the school, so people can have a place to enjoy the peaceful moment, or have gathering.

The school's botanical garden is used for botany and potions-making classes. Members of the Nature Research Club often come here to water and fertilize the plants.

Not only those, it has a hall that students and staffs gathering around for weekly meetings, presentations and other events.

#twst #twisted wonderland #regal fairytale academy #rfa #twisted wonderland headcanons #twst headcanons #rfa headcanons #headcanons #building

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warty-hog-legacy · 11 months

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Clara’s first time in Potions is post-troll attack, and Hogsmeade is recovering so her new supplies haven’t arrived yet. Professor Sharp has set her up at the table directly in front of his desk, where he can keep an eye on students to need an eye kept on them. This is also where Gareth works for very obvious reasons.

She’s got her new potions book, that’s she’s read front-to-back twice, and borrowed a second-year’s potions book to try and catch up on stuff she should already know. There are scribbled notes of her’s in the margins of her book, detailing different ingredient preparations, and what the differences do in a potion. This is THE class she’s been looking forward to the most.

Sharp starts her off with an easy potion he teaches the third-years. Wiggenweld. Rest of the class is reviewing Doxycide to help Mr. Moon with a small infestation in the school broom storage cupboard.

Clara, who doesn’t want to fall behind, has 2 cauldrons set up across the table, it’s only her and Gareth so there’s plenty of room to spread out.

Sharp keeps a close eye on her b/c he thinks it’s foolish to attempt two potions at once, especially if you’ve never brewed one before. Also, Gareth is going to blow up his doxycide. He heated the bundimun acid before adding the streeler shells. Sharp doesn’t want the new girl getting caught in that.

Clara has a lot of questions, he’s happy to answer them so long are they aren’t stupid ones that can be easily answered with 5 minutes of looking through the textbook. Her first question is on the dragon liver for the doxycide. The book says to chop it, no information on size of the pieces, so is the liver juice more important, or is it exposing the surface area of the liver to the potion? Is it more beneficial to slowly have the liver dissolve in the potion, or should it be shocked with a large amount? She thinks slow, but that might make the steeler shells reaction to the hemlock less intense because the shells will have fully dissolved by then.

And then she switches gears to the wiggenweld potion and points out that the wolfsbane she has is dried, so it’s going to less potent (Gareth interjects to add more then), Clara snaps back that once it’s in the potion it’ll begin to rehydrate, so should she wait until it’s rehydrated to add the rest of the ingredients, or just add them while it’s not potent?

Sharp has not had a student so interested in potions in YEARS and she catches on quick. He’s hesitant to call her a natural, but she will probably be the best of the class at potions once she’s caught up. And she keeps Gareth from royally messing up his potions and even managed to save two or three. She’s interested in how the ingredients react, and when they study antidotes to poisons, she tries to create her own antidote. 5 rolls of parchment paper later, she’s barging into office hours b/c she thinks there’s a better general antidote than what’s in the textbook, she’s got a long list of ingredients, some are crossed out b/c they interact with others, or b/c they cancel each other out, and she’s Frustrated b/c in theory it should work except it just keeps brewing a mess in her cauldron. Sharp just hands her a bezoar. Easier. Faster. He knows it’s going to frustrate her more, but she’s 15 and will get over it. If she wants more in-depth knowledge, she’ll have to pass her OWLs.

Sebastian thinks Gareth sometimes messes up his potions on purpose to get Clara all riled up. He usually wanders over while his cauldron is brewing to see what Clara’s working on, b/c she likes trying to make her own potions (that do NOT explode or stink, thank you very much), and while he’s not a natural at potions, he like seeing how passionate she is about it.

Sharp also gets her a little side job with Pippin’s in Hogsmeade to deliver potions. He overheard her talking about wanting a broom, and he and Pippin meet once a week for a drink in Hogsmeade to discuss potions and the weekly Potions newspaper news. Clara has no idea Sharp had a hand in getting her the job. Pippin finds her experiments fascinating and lets her keep the old delivery broom that’s older than he is. She always comes back with the right change and in a timely manner. Occasionally he lets her keep a little extra profit or will tell her to grab a chocolate frog on her way out. Very few students take to potions and he’s glad he’s got an apprentice of sorts.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy mc #Clara white #professor sharp

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evebestt · 2 years

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When the Walls Around are Undone (3/5)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Read here on AO3 or below

And so with a night of company, of sorrow and anger and empathy and eventual laughter, she began to heal.

It took time, but her dearest friends wouldn’t allow her to withdraw again; Ben insisted on at least weekly lunches, and the nightly banter with Saul was achingly familiar, and made her realize just how much she’d isolated herself in those months before.

While she still wouldn’t take the sleeping potions, she compromised with Ben and accepted the calming draughts he gave her — even took them, finding they took the edge off enough to let her sleep quietly for a few hours.

And sleep, she found, did wonders for her mind.

She still had scars, but found that they hurt less when she was rested. And without that raw wound festering, she found that her mind had started to clear, her thoughts becoming ordered again without the memories of the past chasing her every waking minute.

And with an ordered mind, she found her prowess as Headmistress came back, and she found she could look Bloom in the eye again without the shock of that moment in the woods stealing the breath from her lungs. Her eyes were still like her grandmothers, and every once in a while she cocked her head like her mother used to, but she could look at the girl again, talk to her, teach her.

Which meant, though the thought made her stomach flip, that it was time to tell her where she came from.

There wasn’t going to be an easy way to have the conversation, but still she planned what she might say, and debated the way to break it to the girl that would cause the least amount of turmoil. At some point the planning became stalling, though, and with that Farah forced herself to soldier up, and requested Bloom meet her in her office the next evening.

She’d hoped the empty classrooms and the quiet halls might provide some extra layer of privacy, but found it almost eerie as she waited, nearly jumping at every sound that might be Bloom’s approach.

“Ms. Dowling?”

She somehow hadn’t heard her come up the steps and did jump this time, letting out a breath before she offered the girl a shaky smile. “Bloom. Yes, come in.”

Closing the door behind her, she was struck like she hadn’t been in weeks, visions of the baby in her womb growing, stretching, reacting to the sound of her voice. She remembered those kicks inside her belly, could feel the ghost of them if she thought hard enough. Was that the same child, now standing in front of her? Wouldn’t she know by some maternal instinct that this for sure was the babe that grew inside her?

The visions cleared when Bloom cocked her head a little, speaking slowly like she was scared to disturb her. “You said you wanted to discuss something with me?”

“Yes, yes I did — do. Ah,” she turned, looked, then waved Bloom towards the chair in front of her desk, liking the separation the desk provided, physically and mentally.

She drummed her fingers once as she sat, a quick tap against the arms of her chair before she tucked her chair in, then pushed some papers out of the way, and only then did she notice Bloom’s concerned look.

“Ms. Dowling, is everything alright?” Her eyes widened a bit and concern turned more to fear. “Are you okay? Did something happen after we brought you back?”

She held up a hand to stop the girl, shook her head. “I’m fine.” Never mind she still had a few nightmares and the smell of soil could make her dizzy at times, but that wasn’t the question. “It’s regarding your birth parents.”

Bloom nearly jolted out of her chair as she sat up, her eyes now bright with eagerness. “Did you find them? How? Where? When?”

She held up her hand again, then folded them on her blotter when Bloom fell silent. “I… it’s best you hear it from the beginning.”

She wanted to move and release the energy building in her chest, but she forced her body to still, even if she couldn’t settle, and began.

“When the five of you resurrected me, some memories… returned.”

“Returned?”

Farah nodded. “They’d been… blocked, in my mind.”

When Bloom still looked confused, Farah grappled for words. “Rosalind, she… had her own agenda, one she kept secret from everyone. And when an opportunity fell into her lap, she…”

Gods, she was mucking this up, trying so hard to mince her words and color what had happened as gently as possible. Bloom was old enough to hear, and anything but the sheer truth at this point would only make things worse.

“Over seventeen years ago, I got pregnant,” she started bluntly, and saw Bloom blink in shock but continued on. “It was during the war, and I couldn’t hide it for long. When Rosalind found out, she closed me in a suite here at Alfea and performed rituals so that the baby would grow stronger, and with the potential for more magic than any other fairy before them.”

She couldn’t look to see if Bloom was putting it together, could only continue as fast as she could until it was all out there. “When it was time, she took the baby, and then tried to erase any memories I had of the child, the pregnancy, any of it. It seemed to work, and for a time it was as though it had never happened, until the night you brought me back. I believe she hadn’t been able to erase the memories completely, only block them, so once her magic had died with her and I had been resurrected, the block in my mind was removed and all of the memories came back.”

She risked a glance up, saw Bloom looking sorrowful, horrified, empathetic, confused. It hadn’t hit her yet, so Farah continued.

“Now that I know the truth, and I see how those missing months fit into what I knew before, I know that the child I gave birth to was born just before the events at Aster Dell occurred. She didn’t tell me what happened to the child before she erased my memories, however…”

There was a subconscious part of the girl that didn’t want to hear it, Farah could see, that refused to connect the events. She’d have to do it for her, then, and she braced herself for the fallout.

“I believe you are that child.”

After a pause, Bloom let out an incredulous little laugh, her eyes fluttering closed before she opened them again with an unbelieving smile. “That would mean you’re—”

The smile faded, and Farah forced herself to hold her gaze even as the realization sunk in. “That you’re— no.”

Temper flared in her eyes, and Farah kept her voice calm and quiet. “Bloom—”

“No,” she shot back, almost at a yell already, and she pushed to her feet. “No, what bullshit do you think you can get away with? You think because, what, you were dead you can pull this kind of shit? Oh my god, what kind of person would even think shit like this?”

Farah rose to meet Bloom, keeping her voice quiet but putting steel behind it to counter the girl’s outburst. “I understand you’re upset, but—”

“No, this is far beyond upset — this—this is—” her eyes glowed orange, and Farah brought her own magic to the surface, warning glowing in her eyes.

“Bloom, shut it down, you will not—”

Her eyes faded, and something told Farah she hadn’t been in control of that outburst. And that made her all the more dangerous.

“You need to calm down, regardless of what—”

“No I don’t,” Bloom shot back, and she stormed towards the door, raging. “I need to get the hell away from this school!”

“Bloom!” Farah called after her, a command to come back, but she was already gone.

She sat down, trying to sort out her thoughts and grapple with Bloom’s reaction. She hadn’t expected this moment to be joyous — or even calm and collected — but this was beyond even what she’d thought. She’d hoped to explain a bit more at least before Bloom would have inevitably stormed off, to stress she hadn’t known before when Bloom had asked her, and to tell her it wouldn’t change anything between them.

Though that would’ve been a lie, wouldn’t it? As much as she’d try, as much as she didn’t want anything to change between them, the dynamic would forever be shifted with this knowledge. She couldn’t stop that, couldn’t even try to lessen it, now that Bloom had stormed off, and Farah could almost laugh at how comically bad this had gone.

Anxious murmurs from the hallway outside her office caught her attention, pulling her from the brink of self pity. She stood and went to them, finding a group of students huddled around a scorch mark on the ground, smoke still curling up from the blackened stone.

“What happened?” she asked them, though the dread in her stomach already knew.

“We just found it, Ms. Dowling, honest,” one of the girls, a third year mind fairy, told her. “We came from that way,” she pointed to the end of the hall, “and saw this one, and those.” She pointed to the other end of the hall, and Farah saw the line of scorch marks, following the trail Bloom had taken.

The girl’s — Shannon, she remembered — eyes glowed, and Farah saw them widen at what she felt. “Someone was really angry here, I can still feel it. Is something wrong?”

The students looked at each other and moved closer together in fear, memories of the Burned Ones and Rosalind flashing in the back of their eyes. Still troubled, even after months of peace, and she noted to do something to help with that — later.

In the meantime, she tried for a reassuring smile and laid her hand on Shannon’s shoulder, gave the others a quick nod. “Everything’s safe, there’s no need to worry. But best to go the other way for now.”

They nodded, looking reassured but still wary as they turned to follow her orders. Only once they’d turned the corner did anger begin to bubble up in her stomach — how immature and dangerous the girl was to lose control like this — and she turned on her heel to follow Bloom’s path, worried for what other destruction she’d find — or what harm Bloom might have done to herself.

The scorch marks ended abruptly, and she whirled around to try to find any clue as to where Bloom might have gone when she heard Terra call her name, turning to see her niece rushing towards her.

“Where’s Bloom?” she bit out more strongly than she’d meant to, and she saw the worry draw at Terra’s face.

“I—I don’t know — honest, I’d tell you if I knew. She came into the suite raving mad and ranting and then packed a bag before she left again, and then I came to find you.”

Farah nearly growled in frustration, turning on her heel to go to the suites when Terra called after her. “Auntie.”

That made her stop in her tracks — Terra hadn’t called her that since she’d started attending Alfea. Anger dying in her stomach, she turned back to the girl, who suddenly looked so young that it cracked her heart.

“Is it true? What Bloom said?”

And there was nothing else she could say, as much as she might want to. Nothing more than to speak the truth and continue on. “Yes.”

Terra made a small noise, her eyes filling with tears when she ran to Farah and wrapped her arms tightly around her, head pressed against her. “I’m so sorry.”

And her heart shattered. She returned Terra’s strong hug, blinking back tears as she pressed her nose to the crown of her head. “You’ve nothing to be sorry for,” she murmured, smoothing a hand across her back. “I’m alright.”

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that,” Terra said, muffled against her shoulder, and Farah squeezed her a little tighter.

“I know. But I’m alright now.”

“But she said Rosalind made you carry the baby and then took it from you — and you think the baby is Bloom and she’s so mad and doesn’t believe you but—”

“Shh,” Farah soothed her gently before she could work herself up further. “I know, it’s hard, but it’s alright.”

Terra held on a minute longer, Farah holding on just as tightly, before she stepped back, wiping her eyes with her fingers. “I—I don’t know what you’ve done to process, or whatever, or who you’ve talked to, but if you need anything—”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Farah breathed, chest swelling with warmth, and formality be damned, she took Terra’s face in her hands and wiped the remaining tears away with her thumbs. “My sweet girl, I promise I’m okay. You don’t have to look out for me, that’s my job.”

“I know, but just in case you did.”

Farah smiled, brushed back hair from the face of the girl she loved just so. “You’re just like your father. I promise, you’re a help just by being here.”

Terra looked uncertain but nodded anyway, and Farah smoothed her cheek in affection, so amazed by how wonderful of a niece she had.

And then reality cracked through, and the scorch marks Bloom had left were still smoking and she realized that she still didn’t know where the girl was — and that she might make good on her threat to leave.

“You said Bloom packed a bag?”

Terra nodded, and the misery cleared from her eyes. “Yeah, that’s why I wanted to find you — she packed a bag, and with how mad she was I think she might be running, but I don’t know where to.”

Farah nodded and took a step back. “Look for her. If you find her first and she hasn’t left already, try and get her to stay, or at least stall her until I find you.”

At Terra’s nod, Farah turned, and hoped to the gods that her instincts were wrong.

~~~~~~~~~

Bloom had learned to form portals under Rosalind’s tenure — Terra could vividly remember the day she’d made her first stable one in the stone circle, the magic there helping to keep it open. It had been awesome and imposing — and just a little terrifying when she’d seen the hungry thirst for power in Bloom’s eye.

But Bloom wasn’t an idiot — she knew what Rosalind was capable of, and though she’d taught her things that Ms. Dowling wouldn’t have dreamed of doing, they could all see the hypocrisy in her actions, the venom in her words to students she didn’t consider powerful enough, and the mad gleam of her eye when she talked of war.

Which is why she struggled to believe Bloom would go through with her idea to leave — it was a foolish thing to do, even as mad as she was, and surely she could still see that after everything had happened.

But hadn’t this all started with one of Bloom’s miscalculated actions?

Still, she hadn’t quite believed she’d find Bloom in the stone circle, bag at her feet, arms outstretched as the air swirled around her and a portal spun to life.

Scared Bloom would step through right then, Terra ran, raising her voice to be heard over the moan of the wind. “Bloom!”

She looked at her, eyes still glowing, and for a moment looked as though she might ignore her. But she stayed where she was, even if she gazed back into the portal.

The winds had died as the portal stabilized, and Terra didn’t have to yell as she came to stand next to Bloom. “Ms. Dowling’s looking for you — she’s worried.”

Bloom made a little noise of disbelief and shook her head. “I don’t want to talk to her.”

“You could at least hear her out—”

“No!” Bloom nearly shouted, and whirled to face Terra. “I don’t want to hear anything she has to say, especially when it’s probably not even going to be true!”

“That’s not fair, Bloom, this isn’t the kind of thing she would lie about—”

“How do you know? She lied about everything with—”

“That was a special circumstance!” Terra snapped back, then took a deep breath, trying to tamp down her anger. “Look, you’re right, she and my dad did lie to us about everything leading up to Rosalind. But they both apologized, and they admitted they understood why we were upset, and after looking back on it, I can see why they lied to us. And the thing is, Bloom, you don’t know either of them like I do. I’ve been really close with my dad for my whole life, and Farah practically raised me when I was younger — you met them at a really difficult time when things around here weren’t normal, and I think that’s skewed your vision around them. I can’t really blame you, you’ve been through a lot, but… you have to give her a chance. Ms. Dowling wouldn’t lie about something as big as this. If she says that Rosalind altered her memories so she didn’t remember you, then I think that’s the truth.”

Bloom had crossed her arms, and looked to Terra like a toddler digging in their heels. “What about the three months in between then and now?”

“She was probably just trying to wrap her head around the idea! I mean, imagine finding out you were pregnant, you had a baby, and then someone stole all those memories from you. And then you get those back, seventeen years later, and you realize the student standing right in front of you is the very same baby someone stole from you? I mean, think about it, Bloom. She’s reliving a lot of trauma for the first time, I think she was just trying to get herself somewhat pieced together before she told you.”

“It’s still not fair to me, that I walked around here for three months thinking nothing had changed, all the while she knew who I was!”

“Maybe it’s not fair, but I also don’t think there was really a right answer in this situation. People were bound to get hurt no matter what — can’t you see that maybe she’s hurting too?”

Something like realization crossed her face, but it was gone a moment later, replaced with an anger underlied with pain that made Terra’s heart ache.

“If you’re my friend, you’ll let me go.”

Terra’s stomach sank. “That’s not fair, Bloom, I don’t think you’re doing the right thing—”

“Who gives a crap if it’s the right thing, it's what I want. I can’t even be here right now, everything that’s happened since I came here has been either lies, bullshit, or complete hell, and—”

“Everything? Even your friends?”

Guilt crossed Bloom’s features, but then she looked away, setting her jaw in defiance. “I’m going. Do whatever you want, but I just— I have to go.”

She turned then, and without looking back, walked into the portal.

Terra stood there for a long time after she’d left, trying to deny the hurt in her heart, but the wounds were deep, and she’d already been raw from what Farah had confirmed.

Everything had gone so well — the school had been taken back, her aunt had been rescued, and all had been quiet since then. How had it all fractured in barely an hour?

She kicked herself — she should have asked her where she was going, then realized she probably wouldn’t have told her. Irrationally feeling better about that, she steeled herself with a deep breath, then turned and prepared to tell her friends that Bloom had left without a word.

#farah dowling #farah dowling and bloom #bloom peters #fate the winx saga #ftws

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charcherry-weekly · 8 days

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Charcherry Weekly - Issue 195

Hello everyone, Mage of Light Nick Card here. Where did the month go? at least the news is still here.

In the Ring at Dawn

Early this week, the dungeon crashers took a trip to the distant tidally locked planet of Dawnsring, which is host to the Dawnsring Divine Combat Circuit. Those that went on the mission included Rogue of Heart Charles, Brae Emit, her sibling Heir of Time Rise Emit, Maid of Void Skitis, and one other. Reportedly they did some investigating, though there wasn't much of a dungeon complex, just a well populated double decker indoor fighting arena known as The Colosseum. Apparently it is host to two different leagues: the spectacular safety-minded light league, and the no holds barred Brutal League. The former has much more publicity for sensibility reasons, it appears. Regardless, the party managed to watch two matches, one from each league.

The first one was between Bard of Mind Elenora "The Discombobulator" and Heir of Blood Ace Starling. Elenora managed to win the match through razzle dazzle and a light shove off the platform.

The second match was between Thief of Heart Vamp and Heir of Time "Time Trancer". Being true to form, this match was indeed a brutal one, as the two of them (plus a summoned ghost in a reaper robe on Trancer's side) fought hard, drawing blood and inflicting injuries upon each other. Surprisingly, Time Trancer managed to tank two seemingly fatal stabbings from Vamp. It is speculated this may have to do with usage of time powers, or perhaps something related to a personal support network, but this has not been publicly confirmed.Regardless, Time Trancer won via delivering a merciful technical ring-out, and Vamp was sent to the infirmary to recover.

Meanwhile, Charles did a solo run of the basement underneath the arena and took out the dungeon core that had been placed there by former sponsors of the franchise. Fortunately, since it was taken out by a stargate blast, there was minimal collateral damage. While they did encounter a number of guards, none of them were harmed and the one that successfully tackled him got sent to Desertia and got a return ticket to the spaceport.

Currently, Knight of Strife Marcus, owner of the DDCC, is discussing changing over to a more ethical sponsorship of Desertian origin. There is also an audit being performed on the finances of the DDCC at this time. Preliminary reports have suggested that the financial troubles that necessitated a voidco sponsorship in the first place are in part due to third party vendors charging more than usual, due to Dawnsring being outside of The Federation, apparently out of fears of the legality of the operation of the brutal league. Further investigation and legal council will be necessary.

Reportedly, Central City, the capital of Dawnsring, has been running low on power since the core was removed, but there have been improvements in power efficiency, thanks to some tips on a mysterious note.

Classified ads

Searching for new and interesting fruit! Please contact awesomeSwordfish if you have any fruit to offer, suitable offers will be compensated. These fruits will be used for a juice bar that will eventually open in Unity Village. If you are interested in working at such a juice bar, job openings are available.

Do you want an ad here? Contact lavenderSiren to get an ad for whatever. If you don't write it yourself, you risk the newsletter writer writing it instead, do be warned.

This week’s known market stands in Desertia Town:

DTA train ticket stand

Katie’s potion stand (Not available to plitlanders due to regulations, available to all others however)

shinyjiggly pokesnacks stand

Samm's noodle stand

Brae's produce stall: - Potted vegetables - Jarred vegetables - Various jams - Hisuian herbs (medicinal leek, pep-up plant, king's leaf)

Traditional Shop - Abacus (2 gp) - Glassblower's Tools (30 gp) - Hunter’s stand (25 gp) - Camouflaged canvas (1 gp) - Bedroll (1 sp)

e-book reader stand

That should do it for this week. Did anyone hear that explosion yesterday? I think Gwyn is planning on getting into the light league, if its still a thing after all the auditing. I think a certain someone's birthday is coming up soon. Seeya next time! https://letssosl.boards.net/thread/432/charcherry-weekly-issue-195

#charcherry weekly #sbarg2.5dungeoncrashers #sbargv2

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xhibitur · 9 months

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🌟✨ Mastering the Art of Makeup Content: A Journey of Colors and Creativity!

Hey there, makeup mavens! 💄✨ Ready to dive into a world where pigments become poetry and brushes wield magic? Buckle up as we embark on a journey of crafting captivating makeup content that's bound to dazzle your screens and steal your hearts! 💖🎨

**1. Express Your Essence: 🎭 In the realm of makeup, what's your unique vibe? Are you all about ethereal goddess looks or rocking the bold and edgy scene? Discover your personal flair that's destined to stand out amidst the beauty crowd! 🌟🌈

**2. Quality Over Quirks: 📸🌈 Say goodbye to pixelated woes and blurry blues! Armed with a trusty camera, some lighting magic, and editing tricks, let your visuals radiate the brilliance they deserve. Quality is your spell for captivating gazes! 🔮✨

**3. From Canvas to Masterpiece: 🎨🖌️ Ever wondered about the stories behind those stunning transformations? Document the journey – from the blank canvas of untouched skin to the masterpiece of vibrant colors. Share the moments that make your makeup magic! ✨🔍

**4. Authenticity is Enchantment: 🌟💫 Filters, who? Embrace your flaws and share your real-life tales. The true you is what enchants your audience, not the masked perfection. Let your authenticity radiate like a luminous charm! 💕🌟

**5. Spark Conversations, Not Just Colors: 💬✨ It's not just about makeup; it's about sparking conversations. Ask questions, engage in discussions, and watch your content become a haven of interaction and engagement. Your spells are meant to be shared! 🗣️🔥

**6. Consistency is the Key: ⏰🔑 Consistency isn't just a trend; it's your secret potion for growth. Whether it's a weekly ritual or daily enchantments, keep your audience under your spell with your regular doses of creativity! ✨📆

**7. Collaborations: Mix Magic Potions! 🌈🌀 Ever considered collaborating with fellow spellcasters? Collaborations are your bubbling cauldron of creativity. Blend ideas, mix inspirations, and watch as your magic multiplies! 🧙‍♀️🤝

**8. Stay Curious, Stay Radiant: 🌠🔍 The beauty cosmos is ever-evolving. Keep your cosmic curiosity alive with the latest trends, techniques, and products. Stay radiant, and your magic will forever shine! 🌠📚

Conclusion: Creating makeup content is painting dreams on a digital canvas. It's more than just colors; it's stories, emotions, and connections.

Discover your style, embrace authenticity, and cast spells of engagement. Remember, you're not just making up; you're creating captivating magic! 🌟🌈✨

#makeup artist #makeup #makeup of tumblr #content creation #makeup content #tumblr blog #talent #artist on tubmlr #art

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sri-fanfic · 1 year

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Random fanfic ideas

9. There's an existing fanfic where Harry is kicked out of Gryffindor by the other Gryffindors something to do with the house as a whole censuring a misbehaving member, and had a thought... what if they could do that to the Head of House?

That leads to the idea... at some point before the train ride home at the end of Second Year - the prefects pull the trio aside and using pumpkin juice laced with a mild truth potion, question the group about the events of the previous year and what just happened.

Once the full story is out, they then gather all the other house prefects and ask how their respective Heads of House would've handled things.

The discussion goes on for quite a while, and the Gryf prefects have asked the Ravenclaw Prefects for assistance with examining the school rules.

Finally, during the third-year opening feast, a runner from the Gryffindor table approaches the head table with a Document of Censure, for the Head of Gryffindor.

There's a long list of grievances detailing the Head of House's failings, and records submitted by previous prefects that were consulted going back to when McGonagall became deputy head of the school.

Ultimately, the document reads that the house considers itself headless until such time as a different head is appointed or until McGonagall is no longer the Deputy headmistress. Should McGonagall fulfill the stipulations to remain the head, the house will then allow a probationary year for McGonagall to fulfill the requirements as a Head of House, with a list of the head duties taken from the school rules or charter or something.

Chaos results while McGonagall looks like she's taken a mouthful of something sour. Remus temporarily becomes the head of Gryffindor; his first action is to hold a house meeting the next morning that becomes a weekly meeting. Followed by inspecting the house, and setting up physicals for all students.

#stephenopolos' random ideas #harry potter #fanfic #head of house #cliche #gryffindor

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tuliproses435 · 2 years

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BTS Fic Recs: February 2022

Little Wolf by @hoebii | KSJ | Summary: y/n always hoped her prince charming would come to rescue her from the eternal hell she lived in but he never did. Tired of waiting, she decides to be her own savior and while doing so, she meets the big bad wolf everyone feared. Will she get her fairytale ending after all? Tags: Fairytale!au, Little Red Riding Hood!au, Cinderella!au, Angst, Fluff, Werewolf!au

The Art of War More by @kpopfanfictrash | JJK | Summary: Jeon Jungkook had messed with you for the last time. That was what you thought when the hockey team – led by the insufferable Jungkook – kicked your dance team out again from your reserved room at the gym. In retaliation, you planned a prank of epic proportions and were caught in the act by none other than Jungkook himself. Before the rift between you could grow any deeper, you accidentally overheard something you were not meant to hear. Something which overshadowed even your heated rivalry. Faced with the choice between obvious wrong and teaming up with your worst enemy – you reluctantly chose the latter. But what will you do when feelings you once thought of as hatred become something decidedly… not? Tags: Enemies to Lovers, College!au

The Art of the Rom-Com by @gukyi | JJK | Summary: FILM395, the art of the rom-com, was supposed to be an easy a with one of your favorite professors, but it’s not. it’s actually a sisyphean torture that comes in the form of fellow film student jeon jungkook, who has no problem responding to every one of your discussion posts about the consumerist ideals underlying every romance movie with his own paragraphs on the beauty of love like the hopeless romantic he is. and when the two of you find yourselves partnered up for your final project, which is to create a short film on rom-coms, jungkook decides to take it upon himself to show you what love is really like. Tags: Film Major!au, Enemies to Lovers, College!au, Fluff, Slight Angst

Cream and Suga by @snackhobi | MYG | Summary: yoongi is your favourite regular. he’s patient, polite, and predictable, a-large-black-coffee-to-go-please, no cream, no sugar, thank you. rinse and repeat. the seasons might change, but yoongi’s order stays the same. and then one fateful day in winter, yoongi asks about the weekly specials, orders a cup of christmas and sugary sweetness, and everything starts changing. Tags: Barista!au, Coffee Shop!au, Fluff, Bit of Smut

Frost Impressions by @fortunexkookie |JJK| Summary: Jeongguk is so disgustingly smitten with his new coworker that he ends up making a terrible first impression, and neither of them realize they’ve actually been in love with each other for the better part of a decade. Tags: Teacher!au, Gamer!au, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Smut, Pining, Bit of Angst

The Newscasters by @jimlingss | KSJ | Summary: When Local and Celebrity news has to fight head on, who knows who will win. All you do know is that Kim Seokjin, the arrogant bastard that he is, might give you a hernia before your job does. Tags: Fluff, Smut, Anchors!au, Enemies to Lovers

Stole by @silhouetted-beauty | JJK | Summary: Not provided by author Tags: Angst, Smut, Criminal!au, Forbidden Romance

Consequences by @cupofteaguk | KTH | Summary: according to Hogwarts tradition, the Head Girl is meant to serve as a role model of academic achievement, outstanding reputation, and having a honest, good, and hard-working personality. you have no trouble with that; however, you’re not too sure if (regularly) sleeping around with star Quidditch player Kim Taehyung is part of the rules.Tags: Hogwarts!au, Friends with Benefits!au

The Alchemy of Amor by @army-author | JJK | Summary: jungkook is the arrogant son of the duke. you’re a humble alchemist just trying to make a living. unfortunately for you, jungkook seems to have taken a strange interest in you. when a dangerous wager involving a love potion spirals out of control, you find yourself flung into the deep end of emotion, and it becomes difficult to decipher genuine attraction from magical aftereffect… Tags: Fluff, Fantasy!au, Enemies to Lovers

Cheer by @btssaysstudy | JJK | Summary: You felt that your cheer team was under-appreciated by certain people — specifically the rugby team that your cheer team supports during their matches. How is it that their star player, Jeon Jungkook, manages to find his way into your life despite having a bad impression of the rugby players? Tags: Fluff, Cheerleader!au, Athlete!au, College!au

Warm this Winter by @jamaisjoons | KSJ | Summary: spending the winter vacation with an ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend was not something anyone would ever consider doing. spending the winter vacation with both an ex-boyfriend, his new girlfriend, and the one night stand you’d used to try to get over him, well that was a whole other situation that anyone sane would have fled from. and yet, here you are. caught between your best friend (and consequently your ex-boyfriend), and the very same man who you’d fallen into bed with after a night of wallowing in self pity. all while stuck in the picturesquely beautiful - and cruelly romantic - austrian alps. well. at least you can say you had an interesting christmas. Tags: Vacation!au, Christmas!au, Angst, Fluff, Smut

It's You All Along by @lavienjin | KTH | Summary: you've been plagued by visions about your soulmate since as long as you can remember. could this be the year where you finally meet him? Tags: Soulmate!au, Fluff, Smut

White Lies by @noteguk | JJK | Summary: in which Jungkook lies his way out of and into trouble. But he can’t tell white lies when it comes to you. Tags: Smut, Fluff, Fake Dating!au, College!au, Athlete!au

The Love Bug by @jungkxook | JJK | Summary: every night, jungkook puts on the red mask and flings himself confidently into perilous danger; but that same heart of steel that fuels his will and spirit seems to fail him whenever it comes to you Tags: Spiderman!au, Fluff, Smut

Sweeter than Sugar by @jungkxook | JJK | Summary: when infamous playboy jeon jungkook comes to you with a proposition that you know you should say no to, you can’t. because all you really know is that being spoiled has never felt so sweet before Tags: CEO!au, Sugar Daddy!au, Fluff, Smut

Here Comes the Bride, All Dressed in Pride by @hansolmates | JJK | Summary: you and your cousin Doyeon have had beef with each other since the sandbox. When she plucks the last straw, you decide to end your long-simmering fight by claiming that you and her ex—Jeon Jungkook, are now boyfriend and girlfriend Tags: Fake Dating!au, Fluff

Like I'm Famous by @softyoongiionly | JJK | Summary: It’s New Years Eve and Jungkook would rather be anywhere else than at his company’s massive party. Sure, he’s a guest of honor and his team rented out the nicest hotel in Seoul, but ringing in the New Year with you on the other side of the world just feels wrong. He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to celebrate without the woman he loves, but maybe- just maybe…he won’t have to… Tags: Idol!au, Smut, Fluff, Established Relationship

Written in the Stars by @jcwriting | JJK | Summary: being soulmates with a werewolf? pretty easy. being jungkook’s soulmate? the easiest thing in the world. there’s only one teensy tiny problem. he doesn’t want to fuck you. Tags: Werewolf!au, Soulmate!au, Fluff, Angst, Hurt\Comfort

The Habits of a Broken Heart by @softykooky | JJK | Summary: jungkook and you are soulmates. so says the matching crescent moons on both your wrists. however, things are never as easy as they seem, and you are quick to learn that falling in love with someone who does not believe in love is a one-way ticket to heartbreak. Tags: Soulmates!au, Art Student!au, English Student!au, Angst, Fluff, Unrequited Love

To Hold a Dragon's Heart by @softlyjiminie | KTH | Summary: two kingdoms, two hearts and the world between them. your whole life has been a challenge, never an easy moment on your road to becoming queen but will one decision, one encounter with the man you were destined to hate, change the fate of your worlds, forever? Tags: Smut, Angst, Fluff, Forbidden Romance, Dragon Shifter! au, Royalty!au, Enemies to Lovers

Workaholic by @hobiwonder | MYG | Summary: Yoongi needs to relax and Hoseok has many tricks up his sleeve to make him. None of them Yoongi thought included hiring a hooker to pay him a visit one stormy night. You were only trying to escape a crazed man chasing you down on a stormy night. Never was your intention to end up in an attractive man’s house. Definitely not one who thought you were a hooker. Tags: Smut, PWP

I Hate You, I Love You by @borathae | KTH | Summary: You are marrying Kim Taehyung, heir to Kim Enterprises, one of South Korea’s hottest bachelors and a total pain in the ass. You do not want to marry him and neither does he want to marry you. But in families likes yours’, marriage does not come with love Tags: Enemies to Lovers, Arranged Marriage!au, CEO!au, Smut, Fluff, Angst

Do You Want Me (Dead?) by @gukyi | JJK | Summary: jeon jungkook, quidditch extraordinaire and overall pain in your ass, is the one problem you can’t seem to solve, even with years of being the school’s advice columnist under your belt. that is, until you begin to receive letters from someone under the alias of bambi, requesting help with confessing to a crush, and suddenly, your relationship with jeon jungkook takes a turn for… the worst? Tags: Hogwarts!au, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff

Boats Against the Currents by @gukyi | PJM | Summary: park jimin thinks his life is all well and good, that is, until he finds out that if he wants to play quidditch for his last year at hogwarts, he needs to pass a presentation in muggle studies. and, just like the novel he needs to research, he realizes that maybe his life would be easygoing and simple, if only he didn’t fall in love along the way. Tags: Hogwarts!au, Fluff, Angst

Love, Guaranteed by @gukyi | KTH | Summary: with the celestial ball quickly approaching, kim taehyung is horrified to find out that you, his best friend, are dateless. to remedy this, he initiates The Match Project, a matchmaking service designed to find the most optimal date. to you, it’s an opportunity to meet someone else so you can stop pining after your clueless best friend. to him, it’s an opportunity to finally, once and for all, tell you how he feels. Tags: Hogwarts!au, Friends to Lovers, Fluff

Boseong Breakfast by @honeymoonjin | MYG | Summary: it may be misfortune that brings you to min yoongi’s door looking for a place to stay, but luckily holly lodge has a vacancy. Tags: Smut, Fluff, Angst

Chemistry Partners by @tayegi | MYG | Summary: Not Provided by Author Tags: Bad Boy!au, Smut

Petal to the Metal by @luxekook | JJK | Summary: every sunday, the farmers’ market took place in the center of town. vendors from near and far traveled to sell their crafts, their produce, their teas. as the local florist, you figured that running a booth each weekend would boost your business and bring in new clients. at least, those were your reasons in the beginning. but, now? now, you returned just for the handsome jewelry-maker whose booth was next to yours. Tags: Jeweller!au, Florist!au, Fluff

Tangled Thoughts by @mimikookie | JJK | Summary: It wasn’t easy to leave your boyfriend of two years, but the constant lies made you question your relationship. You tried to move on, but you were somehow constantly tangled in his web. After being captured by an unknown, yet familiar, enemy, Jungkook wondered if he was doing the right thing by keeping his secret identity from you. Was it too late to come clean? Tags: Spiderman!au, Exes!au, Angst

Little Do You Know by @yoonia | MYG | Summary: With love, comes challenge. Especially when you are in love with the one man who is at the top of the world while keeping you on the other end. Tags: Music Producer!au, Established Relationship, Angst, Fluff, Smut

From Home by @gyukult | JJK | Summary: jungkook is the youngest of five boys, the last in line to truly inherit any his parents’ money. but what if his mom suddenly cuts him off due to his current poor behavior and he’s forced to learn how it feels like to be part of the working class? Tags: Rich Kid!au, Baker!au, Fake Dating!au, Fluff, Angst, Enemies to Lovers, Smut

I Heard a Rumor by @taeshobipop | JJK | Summary: One slip of a finger, and you realize you’ve liked an Insta photo of college hotshot Jeon Jungkook…from two years ago. You manage to unlike it within seconds, except it’s too late — Damn Kim Namjoon and his lightning-fast eyes. Do not tell a soul, you hiss. The man merely smirks. Next thing you know, a rumor is spread throughout campus. Y/n likes Jungkook…and now he knows. Tags: Fluff, Smut, College!au, Pining, Friends to Lovers

Second First Meeting by @taleasnewastime | KSJ | Summary: Four months. You’ve been speaking to, falling slowly in love with, and seemingly getting made a fool of by a man you matched with online for four months. There’s always an excuse why he can’t meet you, always some convenient reason why he can’t make something. But it’s valentines and he’s booked a fancy meal and that’s him, sat at a table, finally ready to meet you. Only it might look like the guy you know but it’s not the person you’ve been speaking to, no, this guy has no idea who you are. Tags: Strangers to Lovers, Smut, Angst, Fluff

Stood Up by @parkdatjimin | MYG | Summary: Three years after dumping your toxic boyfriend, you decide it’s finally time to try the dating scene again. What you don’t expect is for a handsome and confident CEO to come to your rescue after being stood up Tags: Angst, Smut, Fluff, Pining, CEO!au

Stained Glass by @buzzyybee | MYG | Summary: Paired up to work on what’s soon to become the world’s most sought after museum, how are you and your arch nemesis going to learn to cope. Years of rivalry doesn’t just fade overnight, maybe rivalry turns into something else? And are feelings the only thing keeping things together? Or will they be the main factor in prying you two apart? Tags: Architect!au, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Smut, Angst

Inevitable by @ahundredtimesover | JJK | Summary: You convinced Jungkook to break up years ago so he could pursue his lifelong baseball dream. Now he’s back home, staring at you, and the little boy next to you who looks unmistakably like him. Tags: Exes!au, Parents!au, Baseball!au, Angst, Fluff, Smut

#yoongi x reader #taehyung x reader #jimin x reader #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts fic recs #Yoongi fic recs #taehyung fic recs #jimin fic recs #jungkook fic recs

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edie-k · 2 years

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Crowning Achievement (Romione, PG-13)

Finally taking the time to share the story I wrote for @honouraryweasley12 during the Romione Discord Secret Santa!

Title: Crowning Achievement

Pairing: Ron/Hermione; Harry/Third Wheel

Summary: Ron is well-prepared to deal with Hermione’s surprising news. That’s suspicious.

Request: He requested something where they were a happy couple. Fluffy but could allow some angst with a happy ending. This made me decide to write an argument where they fought because they were discussing their actual problem instead of avoiding their feelings.

Thanks to @adenei for her beta help!

TW: This fic does involve discussion of pregnancy and options around pregnancy outcomes but does not involve pregnancy loss.

Read it at AO3 or below!

Hermione glanced at the clock for what felt like the 50th time. It was finally, mercifully, at 8pm. Ron had said he should back on Thursday around 8.

That usually meant somewhere between 7 and 10.

Not that it was really his fault. He was only halfway through his second year of training so he had very little control over his schedule.

She wandered over to the pantry and began rearranging its contents by size for something to do. Getting ahead on her work or even reading for pleasure would be impossible in her current state of mind.

Finally, Hermione heard the tell tale whoosh of someone Flooing into the drawing room of Grimmauld Place. She took a deep breath and willed herself to be calm.

“Hermione?” Ron’s voice called. “I’m back and I got away at the time I told you for once.”

“In here,” she called back, voice shaking.

“Hi love,” Ron said, walking in the kitchen and spotting her. “Merlin Hermione, what’s wrong?”

The moment she saw him, her carefully prepared speech flew out of her head. Hermione turned her puffy and red eyes toward him and her face crumbled. “I am so sorry. I-I messed up.”

Ron dropped his rucksack on the floor and crossed the room towards her without taking off his muddy boots. He stood in front of her, rubbing his hands up and down her upper arms. “What’s going on?”

“I’m pregnant,” she sobbed.

Ron froze. “Oh. Is it… is it mine?”

Hermione pulled back, her mouth falling open. “Is it yours? Of course it’s yours! How can you even ask me that?”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. That was the worst thing I could have said,” Ron replied, pulling her back into his embrace.

“Yes, it was! How could you—”

“You said you were sorry, that you messed up and I lost my head for a moment. And what do you mean you’re sorry? Somehow I don’t think this is completely on you.”

“Yes it is,” she sobbed into his shoulder. “When you came home from your last training mission early… I hadn’t taken my weekly dose of birth control potion because you were supposed to be gone for three weeks. So I thought I didn’t need it until the next week but then I came home from work and you were here and I had missed you so much and I completely forgot.”

“So you haven’t taken it since last month?” Ron asked.

“No, no, I realized the next day and took it,” she assured him between sniffles.

“Hermione, why didn’t you tell me? Is this why you’ve been so anxious recently?”

“Yes but I really thought it would be fine. I track my cycle pretty closely and that was a day that I shouldn’t have been able to get pregnant so I didn't want to worry you,” she sniffed.

“Well, I did take a couple of shots at it that night,” Ron grinned at her.

“Do I look like I’m in the mood?” Hermione snapped.

“Right, right,” Ron said. “So, okay. You’re... pregnant.”

“What are we going to do?” Hermione said.

“What do you want to do?” Ron asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Are you— you want to have it, right?”

“Do you want to?”

“I want to do what you want to do,” Ron said, his tone more serious and sincere than she could ever recall. Hermione bit her lip and glanced up at him. He was gazing at her intensely.

“I’m… well, I’m sort of leaning that way. You know what the healers said after the war about possible damage to, to me,” Hermione said, sniffling between sentences. “They said that trying to… conceive at a younger age gave me a better chance. I don’t think they meant this young but what if this ends up being our only opportunity?”

“Right,” agreed Ron with a solemn nod.

“But we can’t possibly! You’re not even twenty until next month!”

“Of course we can. Plenty of people have done it. My parents had Bill at our age. Harry’s parents had him young as well.”

“And they had an easy time of it?” Hermione scoffed.

“Well, we decided to defeat Voldemort before having kids so that’ll help,” Ron joked.

“Ron,” Hermione sighed.

“Look, it’ll be hard but we'll, you know, adjust.”

“I’m just starting my career and you aren’t even done with training yet!”

“Then we could decide to not have it?” Ron suggested.

“I don’t - I don’t think that’s what I want either,” Hermione admitted.

“Okay. Then we’ll figure it out. You’ll get some leave when you have the baby, yeah? That should get us almost to the end of my training. Then you can go back part-time for a couple months until I’m certified. I’m sure my mum will help, maybe Fleur - you said your mum was considering retiring as well, right? And once I’m done with training, I can go part-time. If I’m part-time, I won’t have long missions.”

“But you’d get all the most boring work!”

Ron shrugged. “I’ll help George out more on the weekends for the money and I can always go full time when the kid is in school. You always said you wanted our kids to start Muggle school, right? So it won’t even be that long.”

Her stomach fluttered at the thought that he remembered what she wanted for their theoretical children. “You’ll be five years behind on your career!”

“Nah,” said Ron. “I mean, I’ll be a little behind but Harry’s going to be the golden boy of the department and he’ll make sure I’m not forgotten. Anyway, you’ve always been the one that is going to be the star. Knocking you up and locking you down might be my crowning achievement.”

“Don’t say that about yourself,” Hermione shook her head. “You’re doing amazing and I can’t let you—”

“You aren’t,” Ron said firmly. “We don’t have to figure it all out today, we can just—”

“Yes we do! I need to know we can do this so I can commit to the idea of having a baby and maybe be…happy about it,” Hermione pleaded.

Ron sighed. “I get it. Can I take a shower first? I’m muddy, wet, and cold and this is a lot to come home to.”

“Okay,” she agreed. “Are you hungry?”

“You have to ask?”

“I’ll fix you something while you clean up,” Hermione turned toward the pantry.

“Hey,” Ron grabbed her arm, stopping her. “It may not be how or when we wanted this but there’s no one I would rather figure this out with than you.” He leaned down and kissed her softly.

She looked back up at him, teary eyed. “I feel the same.”

“Okay,” Ron said, pulling back from her. “I’ll be quick. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Hermione said. Ron left the kitchen.

As she started to fix a sandwich for him, she started to reflect on how the conversation had gone. He had been so...calm. It wasn’t as though she expected him to run off or abandon her but she hadn’t expected him to think through this so logically or be so cool and collected.

Ten minutes later, he was back, taking a seat at the kitchen table and taking a bite of his sandwich.

“So,” said Hermione. “I think we should talk more about where we plan to live. I know we had talked about moving out of Grimmauld Place and into a place of our own in the beginning of the summer but now I wonder if we delay it to the fall. We can still be settled before the baby comes but even those few extra months of no rent might be helpful. That means you’ll have to do more of the work around the move since I’ll be quite pregnant at that time. Although I suppose magic will make quite a bit of difference. ”

“Okay, well, slow down. First, start by telling me what the date is?”

“The date?”

“The due date,” Ron clarified.

“Oh,” Hermione said. “I was so preoccupied with telling you and how you’d react that I didn’t even calculate it yet.”

“What do you mean, calculate it? What did the spell tell you?”

“The spell?” Hermione said.

“The pregnancy spell. Bill said it casts right onto a calendar,” Ron said.

“I haven’t cast it yet,” she said.

Ron froze. “Then how do you know you’re pregnant?”

“I’m three days late,” Hermione said. “I’m never late. Ever.”

“You didn’t cast the spell?”

“I know my body, Ron!” Hermione said, starting to feel a bit uneasy. Is it possible she had overreacted?

Ron rubbed his face wearily. “Hermione, can you cast the spell please?”

Hermione took her wand out and waved it. A pale yellow light glowed from her for a few moments before fading away.

She wasn’t pregnant.

The two sat in silence.

“I’m sorry,” Hermione said. “I feel like an idiot. I was just so sure—”

“In the future, just, can you cast the spell before we start panicking? Or we can do it together if you like. But don’t drive yourself barmy without casting the spell, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “I feel like an idiot. You know that since the war ended, I just expect things to go a certain way and when they don’t, I immediately jump into crisis mode.”

“I’m not mad,” Ron assured her, now taking a massive bite of the sandwich he had previously barely touched. “But I was exhausted before I even got home so if you don’t mind, I’m going to turn in.”

“Uh, okay,” said Hermione. “I’m going to stay up and review some of these documents. I wasn’t able to concentrate much at work the last couple of days.”

“I’m sure,” Ron chuckled, shoving the last bite of sandwich in his mouth as he stood up and put his plate in the sink. “I’ll wash that in the morning, okay?”

Hermione nodded.

“Good night, love,” Ron said, kissing her on the forehead before heading up the stairs.

Hermione headed toward the study to work but found herself still unable to concentrate. She felt overwhelmingly relieved to not be in the family way but Ron’s reaction was bothering her. He had been so calm. The idea of being parents before the end of the year didn’t seem to frighten him at all. Although they had both discussed and agreed on the concept of children in the future, she had thought they would wait years before they seriously considered having one.

Why had Ron seemed so ready now?

*********************************************************************************

Hermione made her way through the Ministry halls, intent to walk to the Apparition point a block from the Ministry. Normally she Flooed home after a long day but this evening she felt like she needed the walk.

By the time she had slipped into bed last night, unsurprisingly, Ron had been fast asleep. At around 1, she heard him wake up to go to the loo.

She had been certain that when he returned to bed he would do what he usually did and pull her flush to his body before returning to sleep. Actually, she thought he might do more than that given that they had been apart four days. But instead, he had just stumbled in the room and fell back to sleep. Eventually, she did too.

But even with her interrupted sleep, she still woke before her alarm in the morning and had run her foot up and down his bare leg, her typical signal to him that she was up for a morning shag— one that he had never before passed up. But he hadn’t roused at all.

It was highly suspicious. When he returned from time away, they always spent time reconnecting and it wasn’t unheard of for them to have a go in the evening and the morning. It was understandable that he pulled away last night, given how intense things were. But it was more than a little nerve wracking that he hadn’t responded to her this morning. Especially because based on his breathing patterns, she suspected he had been awake.

He hadn’t reacted to her pregnancy news the way she expected at all. He had been so calm and reassuring and he had a plan. A well thought out and logical plan. Almost as though he’d been thinking about it before last night.

It was ridiculous but she couldn’t help but worry that Ron was upset that she wasn’t pregnant.

She had been positive they were on the same page. They were getting their own place this summer but it was only a rental. Buying their own home, marriage and kids were all in their future but not the near future. She had thought within the next ten years but did Ron see it differently?

He had mentioned how young his parents and Harry’s were when they started their families.

Hermione shook her head as she reached the Apparition point. Staying until 6pm on a Friday and delaying her trip home was a mistake. They needed to discuss this and they needed to discuss it now.

She quietly popped into the entryway of Grimmauld Place and walked toward the kitchen. Ron didn’t have to go into the office today and he typically would have dinner started by this time in the evening. But when she pushed open the door, the kitchen was empty save for an open pizza box resting on top of a closed one.

She peeked at the box below and felt a tug on her heart as she spotted it was an almost full margherita pie - her favorite that neither Ron or Harry were crazy about. It was silly, given how affectionate he had been before he had gone to bed but it reminded her that Ron really did love her, despite the weirdness between them and she knew they could work it out.

Taking a slice from the box and setting it on a plate, she realized that there was sound coming from the wireless in the drawing room and then she heard voices.

Curses. Harry must have made it back this morning. That was going to delay the conversation she wanted to have.

“... yeah, well, I’m going to see if Hermione will take a look at it and tell me what I’m doing wrong,” Harry said.

Hermione was just about to announce her presence when Ron spoke up.

“Speaking of Hermione… when I came home last night, she told me she was pregnant.”

“WHAT?” Harry yelped and then Hermione heard him inhale sharply and then start coughing. She knew she should make herself known but she was morbidly curious to see how the two of them talked about her when she wasn’t around.

“Merlin, Harry, breathe! Did you almost choke?”

“Hermione’s pregnant,” Harry gasped out.

“No, no, it was a false alarm,” Ron said. “She was late and got herself all wound up and forgot to cast the spell to confirm it before telling me.”

“Why was there even a chance of her being pregnant? Are you being careless? Your mum will have your head!”

“Hey, you should be lecturing her. She’s the one that throws caution to the wind at the sight of me.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. She could practically hear his cocky grin.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, gross. First you get me in a full blown panic thinking she’s pregnant and then you make me think about your sex life.”

“You were in a full blown panic? I just about pissed myself when she told me,” Ron said.

“WHAT?” shouted a voice but this time it wasn’t Harry.

It had popped out of Hermione’s mouth before she could stop herself.

Both Harry and Ron’s heads snapped around. “Hermione!”

“What do you mean, you panicked?” Hermione shouted.

“Well, I—” Ron started to say.

“Hermione, it would be completely normal if—” Harry began at the same time, trotting out his faithful defense of Ron.

“Yes! It would be completely normal to panic but Ron didn’t do that AT ALL!” barked Hermione.

“What?” said Ron, bewildered.

“I told you that I was pregnant and all you did was start trying to make plans!” Hermione shouted. As the words tumbled out of her mouth, she became aware of how absolutely crazy her anger sounded.

Further evidence of that was clear on Ron and Harry’s faces.

Harry cleared his throat. “Well, maybe Ron was—”

“Stay out of it, Harry!” said Ron, now getting on his feet. “I was trying to be the mature one while you were melting down.”

“Oh, mature? You accused me of cheating on you!”

“Ron!” gasped Harry.

“That was for all of twenty seconds and it was only because you were saying you fucked up!” Ron said. “And I apologized immediately.”

Harry, of course, was immediately swayed by any apology from Ron. “Hermione, maybe you should—”

“Harry, you have never once before wanted to meddle in our relationship and I don’t see why you should now,” Hermione seethed at him.

“Er, right, I’ll just—” Harry glanced around the room but Ron and Hermione were blocking the doorway.

“I was doing what I thought I was supposed to do! Talk about our options. You made it clear that you thought having it was the way to go so I started talking about how we would work it out,” Ron spat.

“And since when are you so logical and thoughtful about things?” accused Hermione.

“Isn’t that what you’ve wanted from me for years?” Ron asked, fully exasperated.

Over his shoulder, Hermione spied Harry, struggling to keep his face expressionless. She knew what that meant. Harry agreed with Ron and she was losing this argument. It was time to get to the core of the issue.

“It was almost like you were planning this!”

“Planning this? You were the one that screwed up the birth control! You think I was planning to get you pregnant? Have you lost your mind?”

“You said ‘knocking me up’ and ‘locking me down’ would be a crowning achievement.”

This time she saw Harry cringe and felt a buzz of excitement course through her. This was moving her way.

“That was a joke! I didn’t mean that. Well, I sort of meant it but not as something I’m trying for right now!”

Hermione paused. She had come home with the intention of having a conversation and getting the answers to her questions but instead this had turned into a blazing row about nothing.

“Then how did you come up with all these plans?” Hermione said, trying to calm down.

“It’s just… after the thing last year… I did sort of think about what you and I would do.”

Harry’s brow furrowed but Hermione immediately softened. Harry might have been confused but she knew exactly what Ron was talking about.

Last year, during the November Hogsmeade visit, Ron had confided in her that George was in some sort of no-strings-attached relationship with Angelina Johnson and George told Ron he believed she was now pregnant.

Ron had been quite shaken about it at the time. George had been a wreck over the situation and Ron had worried that only six months after Fred’s death, George was in no place mentally to deal with fatherhood or any of it. In the end, Angelina wasn’t pregnant but now that Ron said it, she wasn’t surprised that he had been rattled enough to think about how they would handle similar circumstances. Her own thought at the time was that she would never be so irresponsible - a thought that now seemed arrogant and naive.

“Oh,” she said. “I—I was just worried that we were on different pages about how we saw our future.”

Ron snorted. “Do you really think I’m ready to be a father? I mean, yeah, I’d figure it out but I’m happy with how things are now.”

“I am too,” Hermione agreed. “It’s just that last night, when I came to bed, you were sound asleep. Then you got up in the middle of the night and when you came back, you didn’t pull me close like you usually do.”

Hermione heard Harry groan in the background but the answer to this was too important for her to pay any attention to him.

“I really was tired, Hermione and yeah, honestly, it was a lot when I came home,” Ron said.

“I know but what about this morning? I know you were awake but when I tried to… initiate the way I usually do, you just -”

“Okay,” interrupted Harry. “So the two of you seem to be in a place to have a productive conversation without me so I’m going to go.” Harry forcefully pushed past Hermione and she could hear him muttering to himself as he escaped down the hall.

“You were awake and ignored me. Don’t lie to me,” Hermione said.

“Yeah, I was. I wanted to, obviously. But I was sort of in my head. You thought you were pregnant for three days so I didn’t know if you were currently on the potion and I thought if I asked, you might get upset and think I didn’t trust you,” Ron replied.

“Oh,” Hermione said. “I was worried you were disappointed.”

“Hell no,” Ron said. “I like sleeping in. As much as I hate being away from you, I like my job and the longer, more difficult missions. I like going out when we want and staying in when we don’t. It feels like we didn’t always get to be normal teenagers and now I feel like I want to just, you know—”

“Take a breath,” finished Hermione.

“Yeah,” Ron agreed.

“I just can’t get over how calm and cool you were about the whole thing,” Hermione said, shaking her head. “You were almost perfect. I don’t even remember you swearing.”

“Calm to your face! I figured if I freaked out, you would freak out and since you were the one that would have to push a baby out of your body, I thought I should keep it together,” Ron said and Hermione laughed.

“Hermione, do you know what I did when I went upstairs last night? I went to the loo, threw up, took a shower, and then did two shots of Ogden’s before I came back down. I was losing my fucking mind.”

“Really?” Hermione said, smiling and taking a step toward him.

“Yes! Now, do you want me to sit here with you while you eat your disgusting pizza with leaves on it or would you rather go upstairs so you can give me the proper welcome home I was denied last night?”

“My delicious pizza can wait,” she smiled. Ron pulled her close and their lips met.

“See,” said Ron, pulling away and yanking her into the hall. “This is why I’m not ready for kids. Can’t head up to bed at 6:30 and ravish your-”

“I’m leaving, I’m leaving,” said Harry, pushing past them to get to the entryway they used as an Apparition point.

“It also means we don’t have to delay getting our own place.”

“That, I’m ready for.”

#ron x hermione #romione fanfic #hermione granger #romione #ron weasley #hp fanfic

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potter-imagines · 4 years

Text

Not Like The Movies (Fred Weasley)

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Request: Fred Weasley imagine where him and Angelina are kind of “talking” but the reader and Angelina are really good friends and she doesn’t know that there “talking” so when Angelina tells her, she seems okay with it, “it’s not like I’ve liked him since first year.” And since she’s on the quidditch team, she kind of drops out. And starts to hung out more with Cedric and that’s when Fred gets jealous and realizes it was never Angelina but the reader. the whole reason he liked Angelina was because of some letters she gave him but she never wrote them, the reader did...Happy ending with Fred and reader.

Warning: None, just swearing and lil angst

Word Count: 11.7k (got carried away, soooo sorry)

Falling in love with your best friend was nothing short of a curse for you. Sadly, life was not like the movies and sometimes, the person you’re in love with just simply does not feel the same. Movies promised you magic. Laughing and crying, music swelling, camera panning, and always a happy, or satisfying ending. Late at night when you would fall asleep, the image of your best friend would flash across your mind, encapsulating your subconscious. You pictured him lying beside you, telling you jokes and holding you in his arms. You dreamed about what it was like to be his, to call him yours. You thought about how it would feel as he gently strokes your cheek with his palm and his lips find yours. The camera sweeps and falls. We fade to black and everytime, your eyes open from your sleep and the movie comes to an end.

Having grown up with the boy and his twin, falling in love was the easy part; admitting your feelings became the obstacle. It put a slight wedge between your friendship with Fred. You hated how easy it was to fall for him. His stupid laugh, stupid smile, stupid heart, stupid kindess, everything about him was so stupidly loveable.

Although Fred didn’t exactly give you reasons to not feel this way. In actuality, Fred Weasley made it nearly impossible not to fall in love with him. It started with meeting you in the common room each morning and escorting you around the castle, sometimes with George but mostly alone. He’d ‘jokingly’ hold your hand, swinging it widely back and forth as you skipped down the halls. During Qudditch, his attention always trailed off the tracks to you, even when he was miles up in the sky flying around. His eyes would dart to you, just to confirm that you were okay. He was your go to study buddy- although it would typically consist of whispering jokes and talking about your day, rather than studying. Fred was always the one to invite you to his home for break, not that his other siblings didn’t want you, Fred just wanted to be the one who got to ask you. During parties in the common room, you were glued to his side. Fred would toss his arm around your shoulder casually as you sat with your friends. He’d cuddle you on the couch while you chatted away with your friends. You two were never safe from the teasing of your friends, especially George. George Weasley had been pawning for you and his brother to get together since his second year.

Now, there was never an official title given to your uh, predicament. This didn’t mean that people weren’t aware of what was occurring. Hell, even Ron was in on the loop. So, it wasn’t hard for everyone else in the Gryffindor common room to comprehend your shock and anger when you walked in only to find Fred Weasley practically snogging Angelina Johnson on the main couch. Your mouth dropped instantly and your eyes were bugging. And everyone was looking between the pair, and your sudden entrance.

You felt like the ringleader at a circus and all the audience had their eyes on you, the crowd consisting of your few friends who knew your feelings. The voice in your head screamed at you to take action- to go rip Angelina off Fred’s lap and toss her to the ground. It was a vile urge, one that never popped in your thoughts before now. Burning holes into their heads you narrowed your gaze as Angelina snaked her arm around Fred’s broad shoulder, leaning her body into the touch. As if it was second nature, Fred’s arm slipped around her wait, snatching her body forward with a cheeky wink. Your mouth went dry, sahara desert dry. The inside of your stomach coiled into tight knots, a sickening sensation budding. An echoing scream filled your mind, yelling at you to look away, just look away Y/n. Something building, maybe curiosity or maybe disbelief, simply wouldn’t allow this.

Hermione pulled at your hand, silently begging you to walk away with her. You hear the sound of her demanding voice whispering to you, although you neglected to process them. Neither Fred nor Angelina seemed to notice all the attention- if they did, they did a good job hiding it. An indescribable mix of emotion brewed; Angelina Johnson was your close friend next to Hermione. Since first year, she has been your roommate, your potions partner, a chaser just like you, and an amazing friend. She even spent a month of the summer holiday at your home, for crying out loud! You wanted to be angry, you wanted so bad to just scold Angelina and tell her how bad the sight was before you hurt to watch, but you couldn’t. Despite your solid friendship, Angelina was never informed on the feelings you had developed for Fred. In second year you had confessed to her that you had a small crush on the twin, but nothing else ever came. Of course you didn’t know Angelina had liked Fred either. Angelina, Fred, George, and yourself were all in the same school year and house so naturally a friendship arose. As years dwindled on, Angelina drifted away a bit and started spending more time with Alicia Spinott and Katie Bell. You still made time for each other- not to mention living together and spending at least a few hours each day together.

But when Angelina shifted groups, it left you room to grow closer with Fred and George. By your third year, Lee had filled in Angelina’s spot and the four of you raked havoc among Hogwarts. Lee Jordan was a great friend, he always let you sit up in the announcing booth during Quidditch matches when Gryffindor wasn’t playing. In those cases, he was vocally cheering you on through the microphone as you raced around the pitch. When it came to Fred and George, there was a different type of bond you created. You had spent nights on end sprawled around the dorm room of the Weasley twins, chatting about everything and nothing for hours. They invited you in on their pranks, showed you their prized Marauders Map, brought you to The Burrow for holidays, bought you presents for Christmas/birthdays, visited you during the summer, and more. The three of you always sat together in class, sometimes making Lee move a table over. It was always the three of you. Somewhere along the way, you started looking at one twin in particular in a different light. Both were handsome, but something about Fred made your heart race. Everytime his hand brushed against your during class, an electric tingle shot through your spine. He was protective over you, in a brotherly way you assumed, but it was sweet nonetheless. Even during matches Fred always kept an eye out for you on the Quidditch pitch. Never did he miss the chance to gloat about how he basically saved your life three different times. After a long day of class, the two of you would sometimes cuddle on the couch in the common room or in his dorm while talking with George. It was a running joke among your friends about the two of you dating. George loved to tease you two, making kissy faces and telling the two of you to ‘get together already’. George was certainly not the first, nor only, person to make such comments to Fred and yourself. Hermione asked weekly when you would start dating, Harry would question every so often, Ginny asked every hour when you’d get married, and Ron hardly paid enough attention to notice anything occurring.

Pestering and prodding, their questions remained unanswered. You never quite knew what to say, but George, Hermione, Ginny, and even Harry, knew. They kept silent in your presence. Behind closed doors, they seemed to have figured it out. Ron was present for all this but once again, he really didn’t care much to give an overload of input. He wasn’t too interested though and only came to feel a part of the discussion.

The person they couldn’t figure out was Fred Weasley. For the first time in his life, George couldn’t give a solid answer on how his twin was feeling. Typically, George always knew. He was certain Fred had fancied you when they were younger but now in your sixth year, it was hard for him to tell. The two of you had been flirting for years and even though it increased with every year, no actual moves ever came. George wondered if it truly was just flirting in Fred’s mind. Everytime he tiptoed near the topic of Fred’s feelings for you and if he had any, Fred shut it down in an instant. He’d tell George to ‘sod off’ and refused to speak on it. It gave George jumbled ideas.

So when Hermione came up with the idea of you spilling your feeling for Fred in an anonymous letter, it was an appealing thought. George toyed with the plan, a strange pang pulling in his guts told him this was a bad idea. He didn’t know why, but George was scared something would go wrong. He still hadn’t gotten a proper grasp on Fred’s feelings yet. If there was even a chance Fred would decline your confession of heart, George would feel terribly guilty for setting you up to fall. Harry sat this conversation out with Ron, not feeling like it was his place to be this involved. Ginny was in agreement with Hermione, of course, but George kept pushing for them to rethink. Although it was too late, you were already mentally planning a letter.

A week later you nervously handed George a small envelope. Inside was a folded up piece of parchment and in black ink was the words of your emptying out your heart to Fred. You dedicated a small poem to him, then on another page, you dropped small hints about your identity. You included memories, such as meeting on the Hogwarts Express, playing Quidditch together, trips to Hogsmeade, late nights talk, and more. Part of you hoped he solved the mystery right away. The larger part of you crossed your fingers that he felt the same way.

Taking your letter, George was sweating in fear. He had never been so unsure of his brother’s reaction in his life. There were many different ways this could go; the main two being either really really well, or really really bad. For some reason, George was leaning towards the latter.

Hermione on the other hand insisted Fred felt the same. She could sense it, whatever that means. You knew your friend was the most brilliant witch of your time, but she seemed wrong about this one. And now, as you stood staring at your roommate and best friend snuggled up on the couch you were just cuddling with him on last week, Hermione most definitely seemed to be wrong about this one.

Before you got the chance to see Fred and Angelina take their exchanges any further, a tall frame stepped in front of you, blocking your path of sight. Tilting your head up you were met with the soft, pitiful eyes of George Weasley. The other half of your trio reached out and held your shoulders in his hands, gripping your focus.

“We need to talk.”

Hermione followed George up to her door without creating any commotion. They didn’t want to catch anyone’s attention who would question their exit, especially Fred or Angelina. Speaking of which, Hermione led you and George to her dorm as it seemed to be the only chance of you not having to face either of the pair. Slamming the door with a huff, Hermione spun around and pointed to the tall Weasley shifting awkwardly.

“So what the bloody hell was that, George?” Hermione cut through the tension with her sharp words. You refused to meet either of their eyes. The lazer like study of George melting into the side of your head. Your friend slugged over to the bed across from Hermione’s and plopped down. A heavy, tiresome, sigh fell from his lips.

“I just found out last night- I had no clue until Fred told me last night. She was leaving and… I’m just as lost as you guys.”

“What about the letter?” Hermione crossed her arms, starting over at George in anticipation.

“Lee told Fred ‘bout how he saw Angelina by our dorm earlier last week so Fred thinks she’s the one who wrote the letter. Guess it made him interested in her- I don’t know if he asked her about them or not but I guess they went out last week and now they’re… a thing? I don’t know, I’m sorry, darling. I didn’t know what to say, he just told me about it right before you came in. I wouldn’t have let you walk in that otherwise- Y/n I swear on that.” Shaking your head, you could feel the emotions bottling up to a spillage. Running a hand over your reddening face you expressed,n

“I know, George. It’s not your fault, I’m not mad at you, I could never. Just mad at the situation. I was stupid to think it would work between us.”

Hermione sat on the end of her bed, her eyes glaring out the window. Her head snapped in your direction. Mouth crack open ajar, her angry expression turned to disbelief and guilt. Shaking her head back and forth she exclaimed,

“It was my idea for you to write the letter, Y/n. I’m the one who should be apologizing for getting you into this mess-”

“No really, it’s not your guys fault. It’s no ones. If Fred likes Angelina then, he likes Angelina. I can’t change that and telling him I was the one who wrote the letter certainly won’t change that either. Love fucking sucks!” You shouted. George’s hands fumbled in his lap as he desperately tried to avoid your frame. He wasn’t sure he could handle the image. To George, the responsibility lay upon his shoulders but his heart suddenly broke into million tiny pieces when he registered the small sobe choking out. The tears uncontrollably began to roll. You covered your mouth as you fell back into the bed sheets. Salty tears streamed down your cheeks, skipping down the skin. They poured from the side of her skin, splashing against the blanket underneath her.

The familiar grip of George wrapped around your body in an instant. Hermione attached herself as well, the two of them comforting you together. It was soothing to feel his hands rubbing against your back, and Hermione’s head resting on your shoulder.

“Y/n, no, no, please don’t cry, love. Please- shit Y/n, I’m so sorry.” You slumped into their arms, allowing their hugs.

George decided to stay for a few hours. The three of you just laid in Hermione’s bed chatting quietly about everything and anything except Fred Weasley. They made an effort to weave every conversation away from that danger zone. George placed a pillow in his lap, allowing you a seat for your head. Hermione’s bed wasn’t big enough for the three of you to sit spaciously so, he made do. Besides, George was your best friend so it was far more natural for him to cuddle with you than Hermione. He was sure Ron would have an earful for him if that was the case. Hermione sat with her back against the bed frame similar to George. His hands petted your hair delicately, lulling you into a deep sleep. Exhaustion from tears and disappointment, your slumber arrived quickly. As your light snores bounced off the stone walls of Hermione’s dorm room, she nudged George. He looked over in a second with a curious gaze.

“Does he really like her? Angelina?” She whispered the words so faint, they almost went unnoticed to George.

“I don’t know, Hermione. I mean… he’s my bloody twin and never has he ever even mentioned finding her attractive let alone wanting to date her. It’s all just… shocking. I should get going soon, though. Catch him before he goes to bed and maybe then I can get some answers.” George slowly lifted from the bed. He set his hand behind your head for support as he moved the pillow. As light as a feather, he placed your head down on the pillow and backed away as quiet as a mouse. The clock was approaching two in the morning and his heavy lids were starting to collapse. It wasn’t a terrible walk to his room, but it also wasn’t lightning speed. His sleepiness was taking over and if he fell asleep in Hermione’s bed with both her and you, he’d be expelled before sunrise, no matter the circumstance.

Hermione nodded and slipped down so she was laying in her bed. She

“Alright, George. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Taking a step out the door, the tall boy stuck his head back

“You want me to carry her up to her room?” He asked kindly. Hermione looked up at him, clearly doubtful on his offer. “For some reason, I don’t think Y/n will be too pleased to wake up in the same room as Angelina.” They both laughed, careful not to wake you. George mentally face palmed.

“Right. Can’t say that doesn’t make sense. Uh, goodnight, Hermione. Thanks for staying with her.” George mumbled awkwardly. The young witch just smiled and waved to him.

“Of course. Goodnight, George.”

By the time George had trudged back to his room, Fred was passed out, sleeping on top of his blankets instead of under, so George decided to hold off on setting his twin right. As he fell asleep, his thoughts worried about you. He was scared you would hide yourself away, detach from him in order to keep distance from his twin. George considered you to be his best friend, and having you hurt by the actions of his brother made him feel like shit. He found himself praying to whatever god might be listening that when the sun peaked up behind the darkness, you would be okay. Although when morning came, no one could find you. Hermione informed George that you had sneaked out early when the sun rose and she had yet to see you since.

Fred stumbled down the steps and into the common room around noon, rubbing his eyes in a groggy state. His feet dragged across the floor resembling more of a zombie than a human. Just as he entered, George, Harry, Ron and Hermione were standing from the leather sofa heading for the portrait. Ron was the one who noticed Fred and happily invited him along for their lunchtime run. This earned an overdramatic roll of the eyes from Hermione and an awkward wince from Harry. The not so subtle gesture made Fred tilt his head. Nonetheless, he agreed, placing himself at George’s side and giving him a side hug.

The five took off for the dinning hall, making small talk as they went.

George’s jaw hit the floor as he waltzed into the Great Hall only to find you sitting at the end of the Hufflepuff table with Cedric Diggory. He stood, the wind knocked out of him in utter astonishment. Based on the events of the night before, he was expecting you to be still cuddled into Hermione’s bed, or eyes brimming with tears, but you were the exact opposite. A bright, million dollar smile shined from your face. George could hear your laughter from the adjacent direction of the dinning hall. Cedric was sitting beside you, his arms resting on the table as his eyes gazed at you. Everyone knew you guys were friends but it was more, acquaintances or classmates rather than best friends. He pondered if this was your act of retaliation against Fred getting with Angelina- or maybe you truly were trying to move on. No matter the reality, George knew this wasn’t just two friends catching up, and if that was the case, you two had a weird way of showing it.

The sight made a large grin creep to Hermione’s lips. Harry and Ron were completely lost in translation as to why you were sitting with him and Fred, well Fred was livid. So livid the shade of his cheeks was an exact match to the shade of his hair, and everyone saw it. He stopped walking and, quite loudly, choked on the thick air of the room. Some looked over at the sound, intrigued George kicked at the back of his shoe, signaling Fred to keep walking. He obliged, but his focus stayed trained on you and Cedric. At their movement, he slowly lifted his head and was greeted with the fiery eyes of Fred. A teasing smirk hit his lips which only made the fire burning inside Fred blaze harder. Cedric leaned down softly to whisper in your ear, his words making your turn to glance at your friends. You sent them a wave, then turned back to Cedric. You’d be lying to yourself if you said it didn’t bring you a slight joy to see the visible reaction of Fred.

George dragged his brother to the Gryffindor table, practically shoving him into a seat. He sat down next to him as the rest of the group took the seats around them. All their friends were staring at Fred, waiting for his next move.

Smacking his fist on the tabletop in vexation, Fred fumed,

“Is… is that Y/n and Diggory? That’s Y/n and fucking Diggory!”

George met his brother with a deadpan expression.

“Thanks, Fred, couldn’t tell. I mean, they have been friends since our second year.” He muttered. Although this was true, you only recently started talking again. Cedric was popular among students at Hogwarts so as the years trialed on, it became harder and harder to keep a close bond with him. You never had a nasty falling out- you still waved and smiled at each other during class and in the halls, you just stopped spending your free time together as often. Cedric was constantly with his little group of friends and you were rarely disconnected from Fred and George’s hips.

But when he saw you wandering the halls, tear strokes staining your cheeks, he rekindled the friendship with his natural kindness. Wordlessly, Cedric halted his journey to the Great Hall and kneeled down in front of you, asking you what was the matter. Blame it on the lack of sleep or the heightened emotions, you spilled your emotions and confessed everything to him. His presence felt nostalgic and comfortable, it felt like the old days. After crying to him for sometime, Cedric offered to keep you company for the day.

He showed you around the greenhouse, pointing out which ones he planted and all his favorites. You then took him to the Great Lake where you walked around for an hour and shared what you had missed from each other’s lives. It was exactly what you needed to feel a little better for a while. You guys ended your trip down memory lane, and survey of the grounds, in the Great Hall, Cedric’s original destination. He invited you to sit with him and, not wanting to sit alone, you kindly tagged along. Since then, the two of you hadn’t left your spot at the Hufflepuff table. When Cedric saw your friends walking in, he decided to do you a favor and scoot a little closer, purposely making Fred twitch from the opposite side of the room.

Scoffing heavily, Fred lifted his eyebrow and motioned to Cedric and yourself.

“When the bloody hell have they ever sat together- I mean look at how fucking close they are! He’s basically on top of her… I should go see if she’s okay-” Pushing himself up from the table, a quick hand grasped at his side, snagging him back down with a thump. “No, Fred. Just let her be, she had a rough night.” The snarky cut sounded from Hermione. The curly haired girl gave a sneer to Fred, irritated soaking through her words.

“What happened? I never even saw her come in last night.”

“And why’s that?” Hermione asked, head cocked to the side, daring Fred to reply. But when he didn’t say anything, she huffed and continued, “She went to bed right after she got in- uh, I think she said something about an essay or exam. Can’t remember.”

An awkward silence took over, no one else wanting to speak up. George was scrapping around his lunch, taking small bites as he waited for someone to change the topic. Fred glared once more over to you then begrudgingly stated,

“Guess I’ll just have to ask her about it at practice tomorrow. She seems occupied.” The green-eyed monster had fully awakened in Fred. He contemplated strutting right over and yanking you away from Cedric. His blood boiled, envy tainting his circulation. A small part of Fred was beginning to believe you had feelings for him as well- well that was until now. Now, he knew you didn’t and it ripped his heart in two.

Sucking in his cheeks, Fred’s teeth toyed and bit at the skin. His knuckles remained clenched and his eyes cold.

A new group of students made their way into the Great hall, with them, Angelina Johnson.

“Hey Fred.” Angelina was smiling, a sickeningly sweet smile that made the skin under her eyes crinkle. Hermione noticed the unfamiliar tint of peach kissing her lips. She rolled her eyes, annoyance growing at Angelina putting in the extra effort to look nice for Fred. She never wore makeup, and Hermione had to resist the urge to throw her glass of water on the girl’s face. Although younger than you, Hermione was extremely protective of you as you were with her. She was your closest girlfriend and Hermione was not about to let Angelina stomp all over you.

Fred Weasley broke his gaze from you to turn to Angelina. A fake smirk hit his face as he greeted her.

“Angelina, hi.” Ron and Harry listened in, trying to act like they weren’t paying attention. They weren’t huge on drama like this- it was a lose lose for Ron to get involved seeing as Fred was his older brother. Harry preferred to remain in his own conflict- Merlin knows he had a laundry list of those.

The older Gryffindor girl had her hand in her hair, fingers twisting a strand absentmindedly. Instead of dressing down for the sluggish Sunday, Angelina had on a tight red and black plaid skirt, and a tight, slightly unbuttoned white long sleeve.

“I was wondering, you wanna go back to the common room with me? Thought we could hangout for a while.” Leaning to her hip, a seductive gleam twinkled in her eyes. Ron could feel the gag creeping up his throat. Everyone, even Fred, had to hold back from scoffing at the girl. Right as Fred went to decline her proposal, his eyes drew over to you. The resentment and fury hit his bloodstream again when he saw Cedric leaning in so close that his lips were almost brushing your cheeks. He narrowed in on you moving towards his touch, the laughter that cascaded from your lips at his whispers. Out of spite, Fred grinned up at Angelina and nodded his head.

“Sure,” Fred propped his hands on either side of the table, lifting himself up, “I’ll see you guys later.” He commented before taking off with Angelina out of the Great Hall. George pushed the food around on his plate, trying to think of a way to make things right. He hated having his two best friends in a standoff, one that his dim twin seemed to not even understand. Looking up, George saw your eyes watching Fred and Angelina leaving the hall, hand-in-hand.

Cedric reached out for your hand, giving it a tight squeeze in an attempt to distract you. His hands were warm in your cold grip and the comfort was slim. If it were Fred’s hands in your own, maybe it would feel different. Resting your head on the wooden table, Cedric could barely make out your sorrowful mumble.

“See, I told you. He’s not interested.”

The kind Hufflepuff shook his head, the sandy brown locks in his hair swinging as he did. To him, it was obvious. Maybe it was a guy thing, but Cedric could feel the heat fuming off Fred from the other side of his room. It was obvious to him that seeing you and Cedric so close together, got under his skin.

Setting his fork down, Cedric wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to his side.

“Y/n, darling, that is the exact opposite as not interested- he’s only leaving with her because he got jealous that you’re with me! You can’t tell me all that glaring and pouting and red face was because he’s ‘not interested’ in you.” You sat stunned at his words, not having a comeback ready at all. He made a valid point- one that infected your thoughts. Was Fred actually upset that you were with Cedric? No, you declared, he had Angelina, why would he care about who you were with. An answer for Cedric still hadn’t come so you shrugged to him, and started digging into the food on your plate.

A hearty, childlike, chuckle eliminated from Cedric as he gave you one last side hug,

“See, I told you.” He mocked teasingly. You glared at him playfully then glanced over at the Gryffindor table. George Weasley had already turned towards you, silently pleading for you to come over. You mentioned to the east entrance of the dinning hall, signaling for him to meet you there. Excusing yourself politely from Cedric, you promised to return later in the evening, telling him you needed to take care of some business. He of course sweetly obliged, waving to you as you left his table, then joined up with his friends.

George jogged off after you, quickly meeting you outside of the hall. Before you could say hello, he was already diving in.

“You’re mad, woman. Absolutely mad! Do you see how angry Fred was? Cause I was sitting at him and he was incensed! I swear- he was about to leap over there and fight Cedric!” George’s hollar rang to the tippy top of the Astronomy tower. Passerbys leered nosily, wanting a taste of the gossip. Shoving George lightly, you started walking towards the Gryffindor side of the castle with him on your tail.

“Doesn’t matter- he’s with Angelina.” You stated. As much as you wanted the conversation to vanish, George wasn’t about to let you go that easy. Following by your side, an ear shattering laugh came from George.

“Y/n, he only went to hangout with her because he was livid about you and Cedric!”

The traffic in the hall was overwhelming. For a Sunday, there sure were a lot of students roaming the halls. The younger students basically ogled over the two of you as you passed by. First and second year Gryffindors always thought of the Weasley twins and gods for their notorious pranks, and by association, you as well. A group of first year Gryffindor students were crowded around the Cobblestone Courtyard, trying to sneak points and stares at you two. George and you waved over to the boys, their eyes widening at your gestures, but returning a shaky wave back nonetheless. You both continued walking, trying to keep the conversation as light as possible. “Whatever, George.” Crossing your arms over your chest, you sent him a pointed look, stopping dead in your tracks. Turning to a softer tone you asked, “Would you do me a small favor?”

His eyes squinting, George flattened his lips into a thin line.

“What kind of a favor?”

“Just come to McGonagall’s office with me and I’ll explain on the way.” You insisted. Having nothing better to do and wanting to probe your brain for a bit longer, George agreed. However when you made it to the tower of the teacher's offices, he started to regret coming along. The two of you climbed your way up to the fourth floor, and George’s mouth went dry to the bone when you started knocking on the door of Professor McGonagall. Dots started to connect and before George had the chance to stop you, McGonagall’s door creaked open and the beloved Professor

“Miss. Y/l/n, Mr. Weasley, what can I do for the two of you? You didn’t explode a laboratory again, did you?” The tiredness in her voice was noticeably as she prepared herself to deal with the consequences of your reckless pranks. Instead, you reassured her by shaking your head.

“No, Professor, not this time. I was wondering if I could speak to you about leaving the Quidditch team?”

“What?” Both McGonagall and George asked in unison. The seriousness in your gaze answered their questions. McGonagall gave you a bewildered look, not expecting your request in the slightest. George couldn’t move. His feet were cemented to the floor- not giving a single budge. Ever since you were age qualified for tryouts, Fred, George, and you had been on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Your third year you were all starters and it hasn't changed since. Everyone could agree, even your opponents, that you were the top chaser in the school, next to a seventh year Ravenclaw boy. You were faster than most, strategic, quick on your feet, and were an excellent flyer.

George went to pull for your hand, destined to make you rethink. But you moved your hand away before your skin touched. He couldn’t think of the words to yell at you to stop, for once in his life. McGonagall flicked her eyes between you two, then stepped to the side, opening her office door.

“Come in, dear- both of you, come in.”

On Monday evening, the Gryffindor Quidditch team was pooled together on the pitch making conversation before practice started. Angelina Johnson stood a few feet from, giggling and whispering with Alicia and Katie. The girls would glance over to the twins every few seconds, then giggle turning back to each other. As time passed on, Fred found it quite annoying. He wasn’t dating Angelina although he wondered if that was clear to her. For the last week and a half, the pair had been sneaking around the castle, snogging in dark corridors, flirting during practice, getting handsy during class and sitting awfully close to one another in the common room. To Fred, he was just having fun and if he was being honest, it was getting a bit boring but he felt that Angelina deserved a chance.

When he found the heartfelt letter on his bed, he felt he owed it to Angelina to at least give it a try. The way she poured her heart to him on paper- it made him feel special, cared about. Fred couldn’t say with one hundred present confidence that the writer was Angelina, but Lee Jordan was certain it was her.

Although he had been devoting most of his time to hanging out with Angelina and trying to sort out if he had any feelings, Fred noticed a change in you. After that night in the common room, seeing you became a rare occurrence. No longer did Fred walk you to and from class, Cedric did now, and sometimes George. Fred almost had a heart attack the first time he spotted you walking through the corridors with Cedric Diggory close to your hip. That was four days ago and since then, the two of you still hadn’t really spoken.

Fred kicked at the grass and sand surrounding his feet. He didn’t have the motivation nor the energy to flirt with Angelina when his mind was stuck on you. He hated the jealousy that took over when he saw you with Cedric, but he couldn’t shake the image. The sound of his younger brother shouting brought Fred back to reality. George had been standing by his side, but he had been far too quite as well. It made Fred feel like he was going crazy- like he was left out on whatever had been consuming George and yourself. He was distressed over the situation, but Ron’s screeching was too distracting to come up with any solutions. Fred peeked over to his brother as Ron demanded,

“Where’s Y/n? She’s our top Chaser- where the bloody hell is she?” Ron was frantically scanning the pitch for you. Walking up from behind the group, Oliver Wood announced his arrival with an annoyed, and irritated voice.

“McGonagall let me know this morning that y/l/n will not be joining us for the rest of the year. Guess she was falling behind in classes and McGonagall and she felt it was best to quit the team… I don’t agree, but I can’t do anything.” He clutched his broom in his left hand, nearly snapping the wood in half. Everyone crowded around could feel the anger radiating off Oliver. His lips were pressed in a stern line, and his body was stiff as a board. The rest of the team shifted under his heated glare. Oliver had a way of killing with his eyes and the baffled Gryffindor players could sense it was going to be one long practice.

Giving the team one last overlook, Oliver pivoted on his back foot and stomped off. The rest of the group exchanged quizential gleams, separate groups of chatter running amuck.

Fred could hear Alicia and Angelina talking about you. You were the third party to their line of Chasers- they had no idea what to do without you on the team anymore.

“What? She never told me that.” Angelina Johnson crossed her arms in thought, puzzled by the entire announcement. If you were behind in classes, why hadn’t you told her? Leaning her weight on her hip, Angelina looked over the twins. She knew the three of you were best friends, so she assumed they’d have answers. Fred was already looking over to her, only for some sort of answers as to why you quit. Burrowing her eyebrows, she sent him a question leer. She was just as left in the dark as he. Suddenly, a light bulb flicked in a flare. Fred turned to his twin, who was far too quiet, meaning he already knew.

“Y/n tell you she was quitting?” It was more a demand than a question, but Fred still wanted to hear George admit it. Awkwardly, George scratched at the skin of his neck. It was such an uncomfortable situation for him to be stuck in the middle of, but he loved both of you and it hurt him to see you hurt. George shrugged, switching his broom between his hands.

“Yeah, I went with her to go talk to McGonagall, I told her not to but y’know how stubborn she is. Had her mind set.” He confessed. George kept checking for their captain, for the first time he was eager for practice to begin. He didn’t care if Oliver was going to take his frustrations of you leaving the team out on them- he just wanted the conversation between himself and Fred to be over. Flying 100 laps around the pitch in one cycle was much more appealing than standing there any longer. Although his twin wasn’t about to let him slide that easy. Taking a step forward Fred seethed,

“Wait, she asked you to come with her? She didn’t even tell me anything about leaving the team. Also didn’t say anything about Diggory...” His tone was a mix of shock and jealousy. The envy dripping from his words was harsh. The white bones of his knuckles peaked out from beneath his skin as his fists clenched at his sides. This caught George’s attention but not in a positive light.

It made him tick in an unfamiliar way. To George, even though Fred was his twin, he didn’t have the right to be upset with him for being your shoulder. Yes, Fred didn’t know what exactly was going on, but he knew something was up. He had to have some sort of inkling and it irritated George that Fred was mad at him.

Scoffing deeply, George threw it right back at him,

“Not like you’ve even been around that much lately. Seems like you’ve been a bit,” His eyes shot over to one particular Chaser, then again to his twin. “Busy. Didn’t tell her about that one either, I assume.” Cold were his words and his face twisted in a scowl. Eyes wide as the moon, Fred gestured to the girl standing next to her friends.

“Angelina?” He asked in surprise. As dumbfounded as his brother seemed, George’s annoyance only extended at an alarming rate. Oliver rented the pitch and was trudging over to the group. Shaking his orange locks George scrunched his nose.

“I mean, did you tell Y/n about whatever the hell this is going on between Angelina and you. Don’t be surprised if she doesn’t tell you shit when you don’t tell her either.” He spat jarringly. The tension was boiling between the two of them and Fred was lost as to why. Stepping away, he lifted his hands in defense. “Woah, where did the attitude come from? I don’t even know what I did, George. It’s not like Y/n will even glance in my direction lately. Help me out.”

Fred was completely disconcerted, pleading to his brother with his eyes to give him some guidance. It was unlike George to keep things from his twin, and Fred needed to get to the bottom of it. Why would you confide in George? To Fred, the two of you were always a bit closer than George and yourself. There were different boundaries, different normalities between you and each twin. A weird conjunction of irk and bitterness brewed inside him. “For some reason, I don’t believe that. You know, Fred, Angelina didn’t write that letter.” His words struck Fred like a bus. Nearly giving himself whiplash, Fred snapped his sharp eyes to George as his mouth parted open. George’s focus remained on their captain who was nearing. The matter-of-fact tone to his voice had Fred even more confused. Grabbing his brother by the shoulder to force his attention, Fred gasped.

“What-” An abrupt hollar from the Gryffindor captain rang out causing the team to quiet down and look over to Oliver. With a gruff expression, Wood wasted no time diving into instructions.

“Okay everyone, gather ‘round. First piece of business, Katie, you’ll be taking over for Y/n, second piece of business…”

Fred drowned out the sound of Oliver moaning on as his mind raced to the letter. His brain repeated the sweet words over and over again. There was an extremely slim pool of people who could know all those things about him, and some of it, Fred was almost positive Angelina didn’t know. Yes, he met her his first year, but Angelina didn’t know Fred was afraid of the dark. She had no idea he hated socks. That was something he shared with you over winter break when the harsh winter forced him to wear the constricting material on his feet. Didn’t know about the scar on his knee he got last summer when Fred, George and yourself went exploring in the woods and he fell into a hunting trap. You knew all these things- but if you were the true author, Fred was almost certain you would’ve said something by now… right? That’s what made the whole situation so frustrating to him. He thought about asking Angelina, getting a straight forward response but if she did say no, what was he supposed to do. If Angelina didn’t write the letter, then who did? Did the prank king himself fall for a prank? Fred’s judgement remained clouded for the rest of the practice, despite how hard Oliver pushed them. He needed to find you and at least figure out why you had been avoiding him.

While your former teammates were hard at work on the pitch, you were sat in the courtyard with Cedric. The two of you were propped up on the brick wall, sitting half inside the corridor and half outside. Students walked past as dinner was nearing, mummering about the two of you while walking by. Those who were unaware of your history gossiped about a possible relationship. A relationship was the last thing either of you wanted for each other.

Cedric was busy telling you a story about a holiday him and his father took to Greece the year before, a country you had been dying to visit. You were invested in his story about traveling to see authentic Greek God statues when the figure of a familiar boy came into view from the corner of your eye. Behind Cedric was Fred Weasley running up to every student in his perimeter, saying something to them, then running off to the next one. He reached a Slytherin girl, asked her something, then much to your surprise, she turned around and pointed at you. Fred followed her finger until his eyes found yours. Rushing over, Fred thought you were alone until he was a foot away and the shoulder of Cedric could be seen poking out behind the pillar.

Fred stopped next to Cedric, trying his best to appear intimidating, which would’ve caused you to giggle recklessly if the situation were different.

“Y/n… Cedric. Fancy running into the two of you.”

“Hey Fred.” The confidence in Cedric’s voice almost made you laugh. He was toying with Fred because he knew he could. You didn’t have an attraction towards Cedric, and he saw you as a great friend. Fred didn’t need to know this all yet.

Now that Fred was face-to-face with Cedric, you could see that your friend was correct about noticing the jealousy. Fred snarled at the Hufflepuff, a scowl painting his face. Once he looked over to you, his features softened. Biting your lip you echoed,

“Hi.” Fred was pleased with your response, even if it was minimal, at least you were willing to acknowledge him now. That was a step.

Reaching for your hand, Fred laced his rough fingers around your own. It was a familiar feeling you had been missing for over a week. Having his attention on you was something you missed- just having him around was something you missed.

Cedric coughed awkwardly, awaiting Fred’s move. The Gryffindor glared over again then took a deep breath, resisting the ticking urge to shove the boy away from your vicinity.

“Y/n, uh, can we talk?” He paused for a moment, “Without dear Cedric around.”

“Sure. I’ll see you around, Ced.” You leaned up to hug your friend, then watched as he walked away, smirking to himself.

“Ced?” Fred muttered under his breath, earning a small frown from you. “Sorry…”

Scratching at his arm, Fred tried to figure out where to begin. There were so many questions- so many. It was impossible to declare the perfect place to start. Realizing he wasn’t going to speak first, you broke the ice.

“You just want to talk here?” The corridor was empty, expect a Ravenclaw couple stealing a nap before curfew. A pair of students would walk by every so often, but they never strayed from their path.

“Uh, I suppose. I mean you haven’t really been talking to me at all for a week, so I’ll have a conversation wherever I can get one.” Fred chuckled uncomfortably, the lack of humor on your face building tension. You were staring out at the bare courtyard, viewing the scenery of flowers and greenery. Tall trees whooshed in the wind, leaves tumbling to the green grass gracefully. Branches swung against each other, the noise helping to create a distraction.

Slipping his thumb under your chin, Fred lifted your head locking his eyes on yours. You finally peered back at him, and the look in his eyes almost made your heart crumble. A slight glossy, sadness glazed his typically wild, gleaming, happy orbs. His hand tightened on your face, although not enough to hurt.

“Y/n why won’t you even look at me, love? You’re obsessed with Quidditch almost as much as Oliver and you just upped and quit. Don’t even try the excuse of ‘falling behind in school’, we both know that’s a bold lie. You’re the brightest witch in the castle. Look at me please, love.” He pleaded. A sudden rush of irritation surged through you, irked at his words. Pushing him back, you tried to rid yourself of the boy. Stubborn as he was, Fred didn’t move a muscle.

“Stop. Stop it. You can’t say that.” Sternly you scolded him. Fred ran his free hand across his face, his frustration getting the best of him.

“I can’t say what, darling?”

Finding the strength to push him away, you glowered intensely, “You can’t call me love, and you certainly can’t call me darling. You have Angelina for that.” The last part was thrown in more to jab at Fred, wanting to make him feel even an ounce of the pain you were experiencing. It was exactly the most adult choice, but who could blame you. It’s like they say; hurt people, hurt people.

Despite the coldness of your presence, Fred wasn’t backing off. Tugging at your wrist, he pulled your attention in again. His hands were gentle yet his features were sharp.

“So, what? Can only Cedric call you that? Cause just a week ago you were fine with it- loving it actually. This has nothing to do with Angelina-” The vein in his forehead was popping out from all the emotions Fred was draining at once. The last time you saw that sort of a reaction was when Fred nearly murdered his brother Percy for delivering him personally to Snape for exploring the castle after hours. It was quite an interesting Christmas break after that stunt. Fred attempted manslaughter roughly five times during that month off.

You heard his words but all you could see was red. You couldn’t stand to hear him say her name, it made the hairs on the back of your neck rise at the thought of Fred with Angelina. A week’s worth of heartbreak, anger, and hurt exploded without warning as you leaned close to Fred and shouted feverishly,

“This has everything to do with Angelina, Fred!” The anger boiled into a scream as you shoved your finger into his chest, poking him harshly, “You were supposed to be my best friend- her too- and you never told me. You led me on, you made me think you actually had feelings for me, that I had a chance, then you went and got with my roommate, and didn’t say a word to me! You just want me to pretend everything is fine and dandy but it isn’t! You hurt me- her too, but you more than anyone. I’ve been friends with both of you since first year- I’ve been in love with you since first year- and you never even said a thing, you coward! I fucking left clues in neon signs in that letter and you still ignored them. You could’ve just told me, Fred. I can’t even look at either of you the same now. Why didn’t you tell me?” The tears were pouring like a broken faucet at this point. Salt kissed the corner of your mouth then splashed onto the stone floor. Your head fell, allowing the cries to smack right to the ground. A black shoe came into view as it stepped towards you. Refusing to look up, you silently begged for Fred to do something- anything. Soon enough, his large hand clasped around your shoulder, yanking you tightly into his chest. His arms encapsulated you into a hold, hugging you like he never had before. Instead of fighting him off, you felt your body sinking into his arms as the sobs continued. Fred’s hand reached to your head, petting at your hair in a soothing manner.

Pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, Fred lingered his lips against your skin. This was something he had down a million times but with the circumstances, it felt different this time, more genuine.

“You wrote those letters?” Fred uttered faintly. All the stars were aligning in his mind as the confession coated the air. He wanted to kick himself endlessly for putting a blindside up to all the flags. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine you, his best friend, would share the love he felt for you. He started to think back on all your little antics in a different light. How you’d hug him first after every Quidditch match- win or lose. How you’d hold only his hand when you walked to class and never George’s. How you’d braid his hair in the common room on the weekends and spend all night spilling your secrets to him. How whenever there was a party, you stayed close to his side clutching his hand, not that Fred ever let you wander far. It caused his heart to skip a beat as he fixed all the pieces together into a neat puzzle.

“Of course I fucking wrote the letters, Fred! Who else could’ve known all that, hm? I’m sure you ruled George out right away so that only leaves one of us. You didn’t want it to be me- you wanted it to be her.” Your voice cracked at the admission, turning away from Fred while the tears took control. You wanted to run off so bad, to go cry in a corner and never face anyone again. Wiping your eyes, Fred snatched your mascara smudged hand and frantically exclaimed,

“No, that’s not true! I wanted it to be you, I wanted it to be you so bad Y/n, but it was just too good to be true. When I found them on my bed, Lee said Angelina was standing outside our room right before he came up so I… I guess it was just… I don’t know. I didn’t want to risk it, I was just scared if it really was you.” Your eyes rolled in disbelief, was he really driving the dagger in even more? Was it really necessary? The message was received loud and clear as you sneered up at him.

“I get it, Fred, okay? I fucking get it so you don’t have to spell it out for me. You’re with Angelina and I’m just your friend-” For the first time in the long years of your friendship, Fred Weasley snapped at you. Never had you heard his scary, angry voice directed at you, but this time, you were the only one around to be on the receiving end.

“Will you just shut up! I’m not with Angelina- I had a thing with her but I could never be with her, Y/n. She’s just… just-ugh! She’s just not you and it’s infuriating. And if I see you in Diggory’s arms one more time, I think I’m gonna explode.” He finished, out of breath and huffing. His hand around yours had gripped harder, your fingers nearly numb. This was the least of your concerns. All you could comprehend was the rapid words of the boy in front of you.

A triumphant sensation hit your stomach. It made you a little happy to know Fred was envious of Cedric. He had no reason to be, but it still made you smirk a tiny bit. Shrugging half heartedly you mumbled,

“Now you know how I feel…”

Fred’s head shot up at this. Confusion written all over his face he questioned,

“Wait, you’re not with Cedric?”

“No, Fred! He’s my friend- unlike you and Angelina, I don’t snog Cedric.” Dragging your words out, you sent a knowing flare at Fred. He didn’t deny it though, which was what you wanted. If anything was going to happen between the two of you, you needed to be entirely honest and Fred was ready for that. Lifting your hand to his face, you opened your grasp fully, allowing it to rest against the warmth of his cheek.

“It was only once, darling. Just to see if something was there and… well, don’t tell Angelina, but it was bloody terrible. I was expecting it to be like that time we uh, ‘accidently’ kissed last year. Don’t know if you remember it but I certainly do. But um, yeah it was nothing like that. I remember when I kissed you, it felt like that feeling of comfort that I get whenever I step inside The Burrow. And with Angelina, it was more so empty. With you, I had fucking butterflies for weeks! After I kissed Angelina- I vowed I wouldn’t do it again. I never want to kiss any girl who isn’t you, I mean that, Y/n. I’ve had a crush on you since George and I sat next to you on the train to Hogwarts. I’ve been in love with you since we got off that train our first year, and I haven’t stopped since.”

“I remember everything about that day, you were my first kiss after all.” A smile graced your lips at the memory. You had joined the Weasley’s for the last month of summer break, only months ago. Fred, George, and yourself were up late one night in their room gossiping about the new drama you had missed while apart. You laid on your stomach on Fred’s bed, and George on his. Fred sat cross legged beside you, his arm lying on your back. After a few hours, Ginny knocked to inform you she was heading to bed. Taking a risky gamble, Fred begged Molly to let you sleep in their room on a makeshift cot. It took him a little over three weeks to get a yes from her- but with the limitation that the door stay open no matter the hour.

Ginny would stop in every night to wish you a good sleep. Although small in retrospect, this was a big reason Fred fell even more in love with you, the way his little sister looked up at you as if you were the most beautiful creature to ever lay foot on this earth- not that Fred would deny this. He agreed fully, but it made him happier than ever to know that his family loved you and consider you an honorary Weasley. He hoped one day he’d be able to make you an official Weasley, but that would come further down the road.

George crashed around three and Fred and yourself decided to lay in his bed for a few more hours before hitting the hay. You knew you’d have to sneak back to your cot before sunrise or Molly would execute Fred- not you of course, just Fred. She never found you guilty for any of their disastrous plans.

After an hour or so, you were laying next to Fred, staring up at the ceiling as he explained to you all the reasons on how he was superior to George in Quidditch, a conversation that he would only win when George was passed out. For some reason, this led to Fred rambling on about the first time he saw you flying, how he knew you would be an exquisite flyer. Maybe it was because of the kind compliments and the admiration it created inside of you but you placed a soft kiss to the corner of Fred’s lip mid sentence as he gushed about your Quidditch skills.

As you pulled away, Fred pulled you forward again, this time initiating the kiss himself and smacking his lips entirely on yours. Although it was your first kiss, you caught on quick. Fred moved to hover over you which caused your kiss to break and reality to set in. You both went as white as a ghost, frozen in place. Fred just stayed on top of you, unsure of what to do next. His heart urged him to kiss you again but the look of shock on your face made him doubt this idea. After an awkward minute of this, you slowly slid out from under him and sprinted to the makeshift bed, hiding under the covers until morning. It was embarrassing to say the least but neither of you mentioned it since. You went back to normal the next day, pretending the kiss was a figment of your imaginations. But it was as real as your feelings and it happened. You pondered now if you had kissed him again back on that night, maybe you would’ve been together sooner.

Pulling you back into the moment, Fred peeled your hand from his face and scattered a line of kisses to your knuckles,

“If you’d let me, I’d like to be your last.”

“What exactly are you asking me, Freddie?” You smiled, a sugary confection grin, like the world was finally turning in your favor. A gleeful grin took over Fred at the nickname your gifted him. Leaving a chaste peck to the back of your hand, Fred leaned into your touch. “I’ve missed that so much, love. You’re the only one besides mum and George that can call me Freddie. But,” Eyes meeting your, you could feel your heart melting under his gaze. “I want to ask you if you’d be my girlfriend?” If you weren’t standing so close, his whispered words would’ve gone unheard. Luckily for the both of you, they fully registered in your head and heart. Pinching at the skin of your arm, you reassured yourself this was in fact real and not a dream. Fred really was standing in front of you confessing everything you had been dying to hear since your first year. You figured you must have been staring for far too long as a look of fear flashed across Fred’s face.

“Freddie, of course I’ll be your girlfriend!”

“Merlin’s beard- you had me scared, darling.” He hugged you close to his chest, the rhythmic beat of his heart pounding against your ears. You could hear the nerves in his voice causing you to giggle against him.

“Did you really think I was going to say no?”

“I mean I have been a down right git these last few days so, can you blame me for being worried?” He pulled away to glance down at you with a funny expression. Scrunching your nose as if deep in thought, you shook your head.

“Nope.”

Skimming his thumb across your cheek again, Fred took a different approach this time. His body leaned in slowly to yours, stopping just before connecting to brush his lips against yours. The tips of your noses touched, making you laugh at the tickle. He took his time admiring every detail of your face so up close and personal. His eyes surveyed the miniscule dark spots kissing your s/c skin, the paint strokes of e/c in your eyes, the indented dimples in your cheeks and all the beautiful little details that crafted you.

Drawing in, Fred closed the inch of a gap by pressing his pursed lips against your own. Your knees gave out almost immediately at the intense passion and spark soaring through you. As if expecting you to stumble, Fred’s free arm was wrapped securely around your waist, supporting your body to a stand. Snaking your hands around his face, you mimicked his movements by enticing him in with your lips and kissing him deeply. You moved your hand down to his tie, gripping the satin material in your hand then whipped it towards yourself. Fred crashed further into your lips, a groan of pleasure emmitnating. His hand trailed from your waist to your hair, returning the action by tugging at your hair.

You gasped at the sensation, giving Fred the perfect window of opportunity to take the lead. The warmth, and wetness of his tongue slipped around your lip, then entered your mouth. You fought with him wanting to dominate the kiss but Fred was far too skilled.

His tongue danced with yours before flicking across your lips in a teasing manner. You giggled into his lips, a smile rising to Fred’s lips. Detaching himself from your embrace, Fred pulled back, then kissed your cheek. His hands found their previous position around your face. As he held your face in his hands, he leaned down to rest your foreheads against one another. Like a child whose mother just purchased him a puppy, Fred abruptly gushed,

“I can finally call you mine now, isn’t that wicked! Like… you’re my girlfriend now! Bloody hell, this is amazing. I should’ve asked you out years ago!” He chuckled giddly, squeezing your cheeks lightly in his hands. You pulled away, smacking his hands playfully.

“Tell me about it. Would’ve made this a whole lot easier.”

“Ah c’mon, love. Nothing worth it ever comes easy, right?” Fred smiled down at you, intertwining his large hand in yours. You peeked at the interlock, a grin rising to your face. Despite the annoyance of how long it took him, you couldn’t be happier now that he was truly yours. He was right, the wait was finally worth it. For once, your life was aligning with the script of a Hollywood film and it had never felt better.

Gripping Fred’s hand loving you tilted your head up at him,

“Is that your excuse for taking, what… six years?” His cheeks went red at this and he attempted to cover his face in embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, darling! Oh wait- am I allowed to call you that, or is it still reserved for Diggory?” Wiggling his eyebrows at you Fred broke into a fit of chuckles. You hit his side, causing him to step back, though the laughter roared louder. Narrowing your eyes, you feigned anger as you spun on your heel and started to walk in the opposite direction, away from Fred.

“Shut up, Freddie! You want me to break-up with you already?” Fred knew you were joking, but he was a sucker for games. It didn’t take him long to catch up to you- his long strides were no match to your average ones. Wrapping his arms around your body from the back, Fred pressed his lips to the shell of your ear, blowing a rush of air in causing you to leap in surprise.

“Oh, stop it, love! Don’t start with that, let’s at least make it a full day before any talks of breaking up.” Fred placed a ‘boop’ to your nose, then rejoined you at your side as you walked together to the dorm room. The other students had emptied from the halls. Passing by the large clock, you realized you were minutes from curfew. Pointing at the time, you motioned over to Fred. He swiveled his head to read the clock, a wild smirk marking his face. Speeding up the pace, the two of you were jogging to the common room, neither of you wanting to end up in detention. Just as you reached the fourth floor, a silvery and translucent figure swept across the opening of the corridor. You yelp in freight at the unexpected jump scare of a Hogwarts ghost. The Bloody Baron snapped his head at you with a nasty scowl. A silver, heavy chain hung around his neck, a punishment for his crime of murder. Although ghosts of Hogwarts weren’t ghoulish or frightening, The Bloody Baron had never been your favorite. Despite deceased, the throw of his glare felt real and caused your skin to crawl in fear.

Fred interjected, greeting The Bloody Baron kindly and apologizing for your reaction. The ghosts at Hogwarts were rather sensitive to their state. Besides, he always had a softer side for the twins. The Bloody Baron and Peeves were connected in a way so the Weasley twins always got a pass.

The ghost gravitated to the side of the entrance, allowing an opening for you to pass. You thanked him, apologizing for your previous reaction as you stepped past. As you made it out of his earshot, a stream of laughter poured from Fred. Tears pricked his eyes as he chuckled endlessly. You glared at him, warning him with just one look to keep quiet. Fred threw his arm around you, pulling you into his side. He leaned down to place a lingering kiss to your lips before chuckling again,

“C’mon, darling. I’ll protect you from all the ghosts.”

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spxllcxstxr · 3 years

Text

Inked • S.B

(Gif not mine)

Request: Hi! Could I request a Soulmate AU with Sirius please? Marauders era with matching tattoos. No rush and thank you 🌹🖤 — @fific7

Summary: Mary is determined to find your soulmate and not even an oncoming storm will stop her. (Soulmate AU)

Warnings: some tattoo talk?, rain, thunder, I guess hints/implied bullying, Peter makes an appearance but like he’s not a key part and he’s not like bad or anything

Word Count: 2.3k

A.N: This is the kind of star I’m envisioning for your soulmark (just not yellow) I actually never specify the color, so you can imagine any color you want. This took me like a week to write for some reason. But I like how it turned out. Hopefully you guys do too! Love you all ❤️

****

No one ever told you that soulmarks tingled.

When the eight pointed star seared itself into the flesh of the inside of your left elbow at age sixteen, you thought that was it. You thought that it would just sit there innocently to the point where it wouldn’t cross your mind every second of every day, but Merlin were you wrong.

The prickling of the mark was constant, like pins and needles jabbing relentlessly into your arm. It wasn’t exactly painful, it was just an obnoxious and infuriating reminder that you still haven’t found your soulmate.

Hogwarts was practically the place for the vast majority of witches and wizards to find their soulmate, as it was basically the only topic discussed amongst the sixth and seventh years.

Honestly, you just wanted your mark to stop its incessant tingling to the point where you wouldn’t mind anyone being your soulmate. You’ve never heard any complaints from your friends who had already found their true loves, so you assume that the sensation stops eventually.

But you were tired of scratching at your arm making it look like you had some weird sort of flesh eating disease. It was unflattering and highly inconvenient.

Sure, you could run around like a headless hippogriff with your sleeve rolled up asking everyone you encounter if they’ve seen another person with that identical mark, but that’s not romantic. And you wanted romantic, Merlin damn it.

Plus, imagine the burn of embarrassment that would overtake your entire being if no one shared your soulmark. You shudder at the mere thought.

So, you learn to live with it.

You almost want to rip your arm off when it gets particularly bad while studying or trying to get the perfect measurement for your potion, but after a full year you’re almost used to it.

You’re used to how often your friends would gush about their own soulmates and their constant questions about why you’re still single as well.

Mary MacDonald, one of your best friends, had already found her soulmate, some boy from Beauxbatons that sent her too many Howlers during breakfast, but they loved each other, so who were you to complain?

But ever since she found hers, she’s been pretty determined to seek out yours. Even getting her boyfriend to ask around his own school. You can never show your face around Beauxbatons and that’s final.

She’ll make you sit around the courtyard, pretending to read a book, while she scans the arms of the many crowds in search of your star. Mary tries to walk in on top secret Quidditch practices to get a glimpse of any rolled up sleeves, but so far, no good.

That’s really the only reason she’s dragging you down to the Black Lake even though dark grey clouds are hanging heavy in the sky.

“Mary!” You huff as she drags you down the grassy hills, the smell of rain thick in the air. “I know what you’re doing, I’m not daft, y’know.”

Her hand tightens around yours as she starts to feel you resist.

“What I’m doing? (Y/n), it’s a nice day to just hang out at the lake!” Mary cries, the lie hidden well if she wasn’t your best friend.

“Mary it’s about to torrential downpour.” You scoff.

“I thought you liked the rain.” She shrugs innocently, the sound of weeds getting crushed beneath your school shoes loud in your ears.

“Mary, my soulmate might not even be at Hogwarts!” You exclaim, trying to get out of this whole situation. You could be curled up by the fire with a sugar quill, but no, why would Mary let you have some peace and quiet? “They might be older or younger than me—“

“Well we won’t know that, will we, until we check everyone in our year first.” She insists.

The deep murky water is in sight, a few people are lazily lounging around the water’s edge. Like they haven’t even noticed the rain clouds overhead.

“You’re obsessed.” You sigh, finally stopping your attempts to wriggle away from her.

“It’s because I love you.” She smiles sweetly at you, cheeks pushed high, obscuring her dark eyes.

You continue to rub the inside of your arm against the side of your abdomen, attempting to find some sort of relief. The scratchy fabric of your white button down against your grey vest is probably the most effective. The closer to the bank you get, the better you’re able to make out the figures.

The owner of the vibrant red hair was obviously Lily, one of Mary’s friends, and also the more sensible of the group considering her coat was tightly wrapped around her. She’s in a somewhat similar situation as you—she hasn’t shown her soulmark to anyone. However, if what Mary drunkenly told you one night is true, it matches James Potter’s to a tee. Poor her.

Peter was also there, kicking rocks around and chuckling at whatever story Lily was telling them. His Gryffindor jumper is a little short on him while his slacks are a little long, mud dirtying the hem of them. As far as you know, he doesn’t even have a soulmark. It’s not uncommon or something to be ashamed of, but ever since certain people found out, it’s been quite the issue. Sure the infamous Marauders took care of the situation the best they could, but the damage was already done.

The last person was obviously Sirius, you could tell by the way he has his wand situated in his bun. He was closer to the water, picking up flat stones to skip across. His bark like laugh echoing across the space. You and Mary weren’t too far from the group now, so you could tell that the top two buttons of his dress shirt were popped open. Sirius Black’s soulmark was another mystery. He seems like the type to brag about something as important as a soulmark, but as far as you know, only James, Remus, and Peter were privy to that sort of information.

“Hey guys!” Lily perks up, waving at the two of you.

You smile and wave at her, but as Mary stops and chat, you gravitate closer to Peter and Sirius.

“So where are the other two?” You ask, watching as his stone skips across the water, finally ending with a satisfying plunk!

Sirius turns to face you, a few loose strands framing his face, blowing slightly in the wind.

“Detention.” He remarks casually, lazily trying to tame his curls.

“And you two aren’t?”

Peter shakes his head enthusiastically, blond hair bobbing around. “Sirius and I managed to escape before Slughorn lost it.”

“Hey Pete!” You hear Mary call from behind you. “Don’t you wanna know what you missed in Muggle Studies?”

“Shit, yeah.” Peter bounds over to where Lily and Mary are sitting, leaving you and Sirius alone. Your feet shuffle at the predicament.

You slowly inch closer to Sirius, the large distance awkward without a third person. You’re forced to hold down a wince as your mark prickles almost painfully.

Sirius’ eyes are almost the same shade as the clouds in the sky as they pierce into yours.

“You know how to skip rocks?” He tosses you a smooth stone which you catch effortlessly.

You open your mouth to respond but before you’re able to, you’re cut off by a clap of thunder. The ripples of thunder makes you jump slightly.

“We should probably go inside—“ You start, shivering at the cold wind that begins to roll past you.

“Scared of a little thunder, (Y/n)?” Sirius teases, smirking at your shivering form.

“Don’t be a prick.” You snort. “Just throw your rock.”

You push the thought of the oncoming storm to the back of your mind as you position yourself on the bank.

The water laps at you shoes as you toe the edge, running your thumb over the smooth surface. You mirror Sirius’ position, slightly crouched at the knee, body angled towards the lake.

“One...two...three!”

You watch his body move fluidly through the positions, the stone releasing and skipping across the water delicately. Not only do you get distracted by Sirius, but the mark on your arm gives a sudden jolt, making your posture falter and your stone crash recklessly into the lake.

Sirius brings a ringed fist up to his mouth, trying and failing to stifle a laugh.

“It’s not that funny.” You grumble, embarrassed.

“I mean, it’s pretty fucking hilarious. I thought you said you knew how to skip rocks?” He crosses his arms over his chest, eyebrows raised, a chuckle still lightly escaping his amused smile.

“Technically, I didn’t tell you shit.” You remark. “The thunder cut me off.”

“Ah yes. The spooky thunder.” He drawls, wagging his painted fingers at you mockingly.

You bring your hand up to flick him off when you feel a cool dot of water drop onto your hand.

“Hey, did you just feel a—“

In the middle of talking, one raindrop becomes hundreds, the torrential downpour almost instantly soaking you to your bones. You hair plasters to your skin, clothes clinging onto you.

“—raindrop?” You utter weekly, a chill coming over you.

Your eyes widen as you look at Sirius, how his dark hair sticks wildly to his face, like curtains across his eyes.

Lily and Mary let out identical high pitched shrieks, and you hear the sound of mud squelching as the three run back towards the castle.

As Sirius tries to wipe the wet hair from his face, you grab onto his wrist, pulling him as your sprint back to the castle. You’re fumbling as you try not to slip in the mud but at the same time try get to the cover of the castle quickly.

“A little thunder, my arse, Sirius!” You huff out, his wrist still grasped tightly in your hand.

You hear him chuckle behind you, easily keeping up with your pace.

Cold water traces down your back and fills your shoes, your discomfort rapidly increasing with every step and every second you spend outdoors.

Your mind drifts off to Sirius, who was only in his white uniform button down. He must be freezing.

After sloshing through puddles and mucking up your shoes, you manage to get under the cover of the stone castle.

Your teeth are chattering and you body trembles, but at least the rain isn’t cutting into your skin anymore.

Lily, Mary, and Peter are nowhere to be found, though they’re probably making their way to the Gryffindor common room already.

Sirius is wringing out his drenched dark curls, his wand between his lips, but you’re too focused in the face that his shirt is now completely see through. Your eyes wander as you ogle his fit body, shamelessly trailing everywhere. You bite your bottom lip at your confidence.

However, something catches your eye as you admire his arms. A black splotch. Like a tattoo in the inside of his elbow. You somehow go colder than you already were.

“Admiring my beauty—Hey!”

You step forward and latch onto his arm, trying to get a better look at the spot on his arm. Initially, he struggles, but you jab your finger into his skin, your own mark tingling beneath your wet clothes.

“What’s your problem, (Y/n)?” He angrily grunts.

“What’s this, Sirius?” You demand, looking at him.

“Why?” Sirius rips his arm out of your grasp, trying his best to hide the mark from you.

“Because,” You explain, rolling up your own sleeve to expose the eight pointed star on your arm. “We might have something in common.”

Your entire body erupts into shivers both from the cold wind against your soaked skin and the way your soulmark buzzing.

The star stands out against your skin and you watch Sirius’ eyes widen, his jaw going slightly slack.

“Sirius.” You whisper. “I need to know if you’re my soulmate.”

The rain pounds against the castle, wind whistles, and thunder claps, and yet you don’t jump. You’re too focused on Sirius’ expression.

Silently, he brings his index finger to your mark and lightly traces the shape with his fingertip. His finger is cold, but you barely realize it because of the shock that runs through your body, originating from his touch. Goosebumps run wildly across your flesh.

He swallows harshly before pulling away and recklessly pushes his sleeve up the length of his arm. Your heart beats wildly in your chest in anticipation.

Sirius shoves his arm in front of you and you bring your gaze to focus on the inside of his elbow.

And there it is.

His soulmark.

Your soulmark.

The lines are clean and the points are sharp, the star is clear against his skin.

“Oh.”

“You’re my soulmate.” Sirius mutters. “Oh thank Merlin!” He’s laughing, a smile growing across his face.

His laughter is infectious and you find yourself joining him, practically jumping with glee.

Sirius latches onto you, pulling your wet bodies close. He brings his lips to your forehead, warmth spreading from the contact.

“We should celebrate.” Sirius remarks, pulling away just enough to see your entire form.

“Hold on.” You chuckle. “I think you’re forgetting to do something.”

His grey eyes flick down to your lips. “How could I ever forget the best part?” He smirks.

You lips are slow to connect, relishing in the sounds of the rain and how his his hands wrap around your elbows, thumb pressed into your mark.

When they finally join together, you feel whole. Like two puzzle pieces linked together. Eyes flutter shut as emotion run rampant through your body. Your mark tingles before fizzling out when you and Sirius disconnect.

You’re breathless as you cling onto him, as he clings onto you.

“We’ve got a party to throw,” Sirius grabs your hand. “soulmate.”

A stupid grin makes its way across your face.

“Lead the way, soulmate.”

•

Sirius Black Taglist: @quindolyn @fific7 @msmb @lunalovecroft

All Character Taglist: @aspiringsloth20 @amourtentiaa @cherie-draco

#Sirius black #sirius black x reader #Sirius black fluff #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black imagine #the marauders x reader

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