#fred weasley x reader angst | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

emeritusemeritus · 2 months

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You think you know someone. [Fred Weasley x Reader]

Title: You think you know someone.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Timeline: OOTP- canon and timelines altered for purposes of the story. Some bits have been exaggerated for artistic purposes. Based more on the films than the books. Reader joins DA but what if instead of Cho ratting them out, it’s you?

Summary: You had everything during your time at Hogwarts- good friends, Fred Weasley as your boyfriend and a promising future, until Dolores Umbridge turns up.

Warnings: This one turned out a little dark. Mentions of injury, torture, bullying, wounds, blood. Umbridge is a bitch. Snape is a bully. Use of unforgivable curses. Punishment. Kissing, pranks, swearing. Dumbledore’s Army and resistant forces. Brief mentions of Voldemort and probable war. Pet names: baby, sweetheart, princess. Not beta read. Happy ending I promise.

Word count: 9.3k (I feel like I’ve written a novel here)

This work is gifted to @kellyxo1 thanks to the wonderful request that I couldn’t turn down! I’m sorry it’s taken me a while to get this out but it’s been a complete labour of love and I hope you like it!💕

You knew Dolores Umbridge was trouble the moment you spotted her in the Great Hall, her gaudy pink outfit and matching pink cheeks made her stick out like a sore thumb amongst the classic, muted colour pallet you knew to be Hogwarts. Her smile unnerved you, the cold expression in her eyes never once matching the infallible twisted, sadistic smile that so often painted her face. Everything about her rang alarm bells in your mind.

Fred and George had been sitting either side of you at the banquet table in the Great Hall as she took centre stage and delivered her speech about being very good friends, as ominous and foreboding as it seemed.

"That's likely," the twins had mumbled, resting their heads on their hands, elbows on the table as a small act of rebellion against the airs and graces she clearly put on. You'd subconsciously scooted closer to Fred when she stood, reaching for his spare hand under the table that he'd offered you, sensing a little of your discomfort. Fred was always acutely aware of your emotions, able to read you like a book, you supposed it was a natural consequence of being together for so long.

You'd met on the first day of Hogwarts when you'd stepped into the train compartment he shared with George, locked eyes and the rest was history. You'd been dating since your second year, both of you unable to deny the childlike crushes and stolen glances of your attraction and as you grew up, you grew together. Now you were in your last year, with big plans ahead of Fred and George's business which you'd planned to help them with initially and bigger promises of moving in together in the flat above the shop. The natural progression of a happy relationship and an exciting prospect that kept you motivated to finish school on a high.

The atmosphere at Hogwarts was different this year: understandably tense and foreboding, not just because of Cedric's death and the rumoured return of Voldemort but of the disquiet around Harry's claims and the propagandistic reporting from the Daily Prophet refuting Harry's claims. It seemed everyone was divided into wether they believed Harry or if they believed what they were reading in the media. It was evident that the ministry had worked hard to deny and deflect Harry'a claims, disparaging and slandering him publicly. Of course the arrival of a certain Pink adorned dementor didn't help things, especially when she, as new defense against the dark arts teacher, did away with the old curriculum and removed any defensive, practical teaching in favour of simple theory- which would be of no use in real life situations, of which you were all undoubtedly facing. Then the educational decrees began where she was appointed Hogwarts' high inquisitor and sought to change anything she was as unsatisfactory, backed by the ministry, which seemed to propel the whole school further and further away from what it should be teaching and how it should be preparing it's students for what was inevitably happening.

"She can't do this! It's ridiculous, George is fuming, never mind Fred," you overheard Ginny say as you were about to take a seat for dinner but quickly stopped as you gave her a questioning look, not knowing what she meant, her eyes focusing in on your frozen form.

"What?"

"You haven't seen the new decree?" She asks curiously, placing down her fork onto the plate. You shook your head briefly before walking quickly out of the hall, dinner be damned to examine the wall of decrees, trying to fix your eyes onto the new plaque on the wall.

Educational Decree No. 30: All Weasley products will be banned immediately.

You rushed upstairs to the common room, split in two minds about wether they would be there or on the quidditch pitch, trying to expel their frustrations... until you remembered that broom flying had been outlawed unless part of a lesson or during Quidditch games, as few and far between as they were coming due to the constant cancelling.

When you found them in their dorm, George was pacing the room, kicking the wooden frame of his bed after every circuit whilst Fred sat perched on his own bed, face downcast and eyes filled with anger.

You knew it wouldn't stop them, nothing ever did, but the business they forged from nothing had suffered for a while as students were afraid of the repercussions of being searched and found with their products.

"Can't sell my products, can't fly a broom, can't even kiss my own girlfriend unless I find a way to snog her from six inches away!" Fred had been furious and rightly so but there seemed to be no hope in sight.

It seemed no one was unaffected by the drastic measures Umbridge was taking and you were all facing the consequences of the increasing restrictions, in multiple ways. You'd been given detention for the stupidest things, including casting a spell to undo the jinx Malfoy had placed on Neville one afternoon, another leg lock jinx that you'd fixed for him, received another for the muggle book in your possessions and another for deigning to be within six inches of George. The punishment was cruel and twisted but you'd hidden it from Fred, knowing how protective he was and how he'd act out to retaliate against her which would only land him in worse trouble. She seemed to focus on you in particular, for whatever reason you weren't sure but she hardly hid her distaste for you publicly. Fred said it was because of your connection to him and George but you weren't sure, it seemed more personal than that.

It had been Hermione's brilliant idea to forge a sort of rebellion in order to actually learn the practical side of defence and you'd been eager to sign up after attending the first meeting at the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade, knowing that you had to arm yourself in whatever way you could, the feeling of unease at the current climate always looming overhead. You'd been pleasantly surprised by the turn out, seeing many familiar faces as you'd walked hand in hand with Fred into the small, freezing cold room as you waited for Harry, Ron and Hermione. Cho, Luna, Neville, Ginny, Michael and so many others from Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff had turned out to fight for the cause and as you looked around the room of friends and familiars, it was evident that this could work.

You'd signed the parchment Hermione had brought with no hesitation, lining up between Fred and Ginny, clearly marking your name under his in the pencil provided. As you walked back to the castle in a group, Fred's arm around you and his hat in your head to keep the cold away from your ears, you felt determined and inspired to make this work. You'd just need to find somewhere to practice away from the prying eyes of the inquisitor.

Then came Educational Decree No.68: All student organisations are henceforth be disbanded. Any student in noncompliance will be expelled.

This time, you weren't angered or afraid of the newly instated restriction but instead felt empowered to rebel. Neville, in a feat of brilliance, had discovered the room of requirement one Saturday afternoon as he made his way down the seventh floor corridor. It was perfect, exactly what was needed, and you'd all wasted no time in putting the room to good use.

Within just two weeks, you'd mastered disarming spells, stunning spells, hexes, jinxes and defensive charms that you'd never thought you could do. Ginny had proven herself to be incredibly skilled and you'd stood watching in amazement as two magpies flying around the room, both coming from your boyfriend and his twin. The twins had taken to placing bets, mostly against Ron, all of you in good spirits about finally being able to do magic again. You and Fred took full advantage of being shielded away from the eyes of Hogwarts and had taken to lingering in the room after the sessions so you could be close to each other, to kiss freely and be intimate again. It had seemed so long, so cruel to have to keep away from him, at least in public and as you watched him master spells so effortlessly and looking so deliciously hot as he did it, often with messy hair and rolled up sleeves, it was exactly what you needed to relieve yourself of the building frustrations.

Fun and laughter had once again returned to Hogwarts, though shielded from the regulating eyes, it was just like before. The twins had even taken to pranking again, no longer concerned by the changes, including giving Filch laced chocolates which made him erupt with giant, puss-filled boils on his face when he got too close to the scent of your secret gatherings.

Educational decree No. 82: All students will submit to questioning about suspected illicit activities.

Umbridge had began to gather students for an inquisitorial squad which would earn them credit for joining, most notably the Slytherin students that weaselled their way into Umbridge's good books. Most probably by being pure bloods. They took great pleasure in pulling up the younger students in particular for punishment or questioning and abused their powers frequently.

Then you returned to school after winter break and the news of the Azkaban breakout happened, constant storms were forecasted, Umbridge's cruel regime heightened. Everything felt so restrictive, so unnecessary, so twisted. The only place you found solace was during DA meetings when you could be yourself, free to act and perform as you wanted surrounded by your friends and boyfriend. Always alert at the imposing threat, knowing Filch was on to you all and the rest of the inquisitorial squad which only fuelled you to keep discreet.

It had been a regular day of classes until your DADA lesson where you'd been required by the toad to write an essay on the benefits of conversational reasoning as opposed to practical magic to handle disputes with half breeds and lower class species, such as centaurs. You'd almost immediately refused to write such things, particularly due to the disgusting terms used to class different species but also due to the ridiculous concept.

"I am teaching you verified way of effective communication, in which you do not have to use your wand," she defends with a sickeningly fake smirk.

"Or our brains by taking away our autonomy," you'd argued, not even under your breath.

"Are you questioning my methods of teaching miss y/l/n? By all means if you think you can do better I should like to see you try."

"Can't be hard, Professor Quirrel did a better job and he shared a head and a singular brain cell with Voldemort."

A murmur of concealed laughter burst from the students around you and for a singular moment you felt the victory of it, empowered even.

"Detention!" She's utterly outraged, her face turning a dangerous shade of fuchsia. You could feel the eyes on you, most notably your boyfriend and his twin from across the room but you didn't care. Since returning to school you'd been torn away from Fred, unable to be anywhere near each other and certainly not in a group with your friends as it would break at least three decrees. You were frustrated and had hit breaking point, anger simmering in you but why you didn't know. You'd completely had enough.

"It's a date Dolores," you said sarcastically with the sickliest smile you could muster. More snickers erupted around you and even a clap that sounded suspiciously like it came from the direction of your future brother in law.

"My office, now!" She screams, pointing with her pink tipped finger towards the door. You grabbed your stuff from the desk and walked out without a single look in anyone's direction. On your way to her office, you pulled the special coin from your pocket and checked over the date and time to check you had it right. There was a DA meeting later that evening and you'd hoped this would be over quickly so that you could still attend.

Only, that never happened. Instead you'd been tortured for hours in the cruelest of ways, repeatedly questioned over your involvement with the alleged group and had been forced to drink truth serum until the words had slipped out of your mouth. You'd had no control over it, no way of resisting any longer and with great shame, you'd told her about the room of requirement, completely unable to stop the words from coming out.

The inquisitorial squad was on you in mere moments, as soon as Umbridge had signalled them from outside the door and Malfoy's grubby hands were pulling your weak and exhausted body from the chair before you could even register the intrusion. The things you'd been through, the pain and the anguish, it was nothing compared to the fear you felt at the DA being discovered; you could only pray that you'd held out long enough so that the meeting was over.

"Where is it?!" Umbridge screamed into your face when you wouldn't disclose the exact location of the room of requirement, having already inadvertently let slip that the room was your meeting place. You gave her your darkest look, no longer feeling controlled by whatever she had obviously put in your tea. When she didn't get an answer, her hand struck you hard right across the cheek but you hardly flinched, hardly feeling the pain anymore.

"I know the way Ma'am," Filch said, his saggy face appearing around the corner creepily, his features twisting into a vulgar, perverse smile. You could hardly look at Umbridge's face as it twisted into a pleased, twisted grin as she fixed her jacket and allowed Filch to lead her. Malfoy grabbed hold of your robes tighter in his fist and you were dragged along with them until you reached the seventh floor.

You felt sick to your stomach, wanting to scream and cry, resist in anyway you could as you fought against Malfoy's hold but you were physically tired and weak. Crabbe had grabbed hold of the other side of you, your thrashing too much for Malfoy to hold down by himself and his hands were much tougher against your skin, no doubt leaving bruises in their wake. When the door to the room of requirement didn't appear, you felt hopeful that she'd realise you were lying, even if that meant horrendous consequences for you. There was no way of warning them, nothing you could do to allow them to flee, you'd have to watch as they were all caught redhanded. They'd think you ratted them out, your friends, the love of your life. You knew it was exactly what Umbridge wanted, to turn everyone against you- and she was undoubtedly going to get it.

"Bombarda Maxima," her eerily calm and squeaky voice rang out as she pointed her want at the wall. Your scream mixed in with the large bang as a giant hole was created in the wall, depris and dust flying everywhere.

When the dust cloud cleared, you were dragged off from the side viciously by Malfoy and Crabbe until you were presented in front of the Army- your friends. You didn't want to look up from your spot on the floor, still fighting against their holds on you but something made you look up. And then you met his eyes.

Fred had never looked at you that way, ever. The looks of love and adoration you'd become accustomed to over the years, the playfulness and the intimate looks, it was all gone. The look in his eyes would haunt you forever, the coldness, betrayal and the resentment and it was explicitly clear what his expression told you.

He believed that you ratted them out, believed that you could ever do that to him, to them all.

You had to look away, desperate to see any hope that someone believed you, that someone sympathised with the torment you'd endured but as your eyes travelled across to George, you stopped short. He looked furious with you, disgusted and despite everything you'd been through in the past few hours, you'd receive no sympathy or chance to explain yourself to the people you loved.

You were dragged away as Umbridge dealt with the Army, bestowing threats and punishments upon them that you couldn't hear. You no longer fought against the holds of the Slytherins but instead went willingly, feeling guilty, shame and simply dirty for your role in all of this, even if it wasn't your fault.

Members of the ministry arrived not too long after, having been alerted prior to the discovery of the DA. You couldn't look at Kingsley, much too distraught to see his look of disgust at you, no doubt planning to tell the Order what you'd done. Harry was ushered in not long after having been caught in the skirmish. His newfound hatred of you seemed to radiate off him as he stood beside you and this alone made you want to scream and cry out of frustration, tears welling in your eyes that you wouldn't allow to spill.

The final straw was when Percy walked in, without so much as a glimmer of recognition towards you and took over from Malfoy to restrain you and Harry, keeping the shoulder of your robe balled up in his hand. The minister ordered him to dispatch an owl to the Daily Prophet and he diligently nodded, trying to manoeuvre you along with him.

"Get off me Weatherby," you demanded viciously, fighting against his hold and managing to break free, only to be stopped as you all looked on in amazement as Dumbledore disappeared out of sight in a magnificent display.

You'd hoped after that, you'd be able to get Harry alone, to explain yourself to him, to tell him what had happened but he'd completely avoided you, blanked you entirely. You hardly blamed him but you needed to explain, to clear your name. Umbridge then commanded Harry to join her in the hall where the punishment was being conducted, all of the DA together.

You'd been permitted to return to your dorm after the meeting had finished but you stood outside of the hall doors, desperate to see Fred and explain yourself, hoping he could bring you at least an ounce of comfort. Your head was pounding from the pain earlier and the marks on your arms were throbbing, sore and weeping though you fought not to look at them, knowing the pain would only be worse when you saw what was tormenting you. You couldn't go to Madame pomfrey, Umbridge had made that very clear and so you suffered in complete silence until you could reach out for your friends.

You lingered outside of the door for what felt like hours, the anxiety and the nerves you felt seemingly freezing time. When the doors opened, the members of the DA began pouring out with soured looks on their faces which only heightened when they caught sight of you. It was never hard to spot Fred and George amongst a crowd, their towering height easily distinguishable amongst a sea of people.

The look on everyone's face was near identical, the disgust and the resentment evident in their eyes as they spotted you but none clearer than the twins. George looked like he detested you, his face scrunched into a look of utter distaste, eyes glaring into you as he walked past without a care. Fred looked away, ignoring your presence completely as he glided past you without muttering a single word, his face stone cold and void of expression.

"Freddie, please," you said weakly and emotionally, with tears in your eyes, turning around in the spot as he walked past you. But nothing, he didn't turn, didn't react, simply walked away without so much as a single glance.

"Harry," you implored, taking a step towards him but he too blanked you again, pushing past you and walking quickly up the steps to avoid you.

You stood alone in the cold and empty corridor, feeling more isolated and alone than you ever had and finally allowed yourself to cry. Silent tears fell down your cheeks, shoulders sagging as you cried for everything you had undoubtedly lost, for the treatment you'd received and for the pain you still felt in your head and arms. Finding a spot in a hidden corner, you finally allowed yourself to pull up the sleeve of your robe and look upon the damage that Umbridge had inflicted with her sadistic quill. It was horrendous, an onslaught of slurs and vicious words etched into your body, no doubt intentionally done to leave the scars as a permanent reminder.

You sobbed your heart out in that little nook between two cold, stone pillars as you tried desperately to heal the marks but no spell was strong enough even to numb it in your weakened state.

You eventually made your way to Gryffindor tower, stepping through the portrait and finding the common room practically deserted. You sighed and walked up the stone steps to your dorm, only to find that the door had been shut and your blanket and pillow had been thrown outside of it, a clear sign you were not welcome even within your own dorm. You were painfully exhausted and wanted nothing more than to curl up in your bed and cry into your pillow until you eventually passed out. But you didn't even deserve that.

With a heavy sigh, you collected your blanket and pillow and trudged down the steps back towards the common room, eyes blurry through a mixture of tiredness and tears. You stopped short the second you crossed the last step, seeing Fred and George step in through the portrait hole, your stomach flipping nervously as you anticipated a barrage of insults or horrible pranks, their allegiance turning from you now.

"Fred, Freddie please," you begged, dropping your makeshift bedding to walk towards him, trying to reach out for him. You paused as you saw the redness on the back of his left hand, a clearly fresh punishment, 'I must not break rules'. George intercepts immediately and barges past you, blocking you from getting to Fred as he turns his twin away from you.

"You think you know someone," George mutters as he gently nudges Fred up the stairs, sending you a vicious glare before he walks up after him, once again leaving you alone. Fred didn't even spare a single glance at you, not even to recoil away.

You curled up in a corner armchair as soon as the tears appeared, pathetically dragging the blanket over you and cried until you fell asleep in the uncomfortable chair.

The two weeks that followed were the absolute worst weeks of your life. Umbridge had stripped you of everything you loved in one fell swoop, turned everyone against you and left the place you called home feeling miserable and lonely. You deserved it, you knew that, having ratted them out. You'd antagonised her and now had to live through then consequences, as cruel and twisted as they were.

The glares from everyone you had once called friends hadn't stopped, especially from George, which hurt the most. Fred had outright ignored any effort you'd made to reach out to him, no matter how desperate you'd sounded or how hard you'd tried to make him understand. He didn't care. He believed the lie.

The first week you'd tried to take your meals with the rest of the Gryffindors but it was made abundantly clear to you that you were not permitted nor welcome to join your friends and had been cruelly banished to the end of the table, beside the first years. The second week you'd stopped attending meals at all, not able to push through the shame and embarrassment of being cast away, exiled from your group. Lessons were monotonous and any down time was utterly excruciating as you were left enclosed with the other Gryffindors, namely your ex boyfriend, though no one would make any contact with you. You'd tried to sleep in your dorm but the girls had done nearly everything to prevent you from actually sleeping, talking loudly, setting off whizzbangs inside your curtains and had even transfigured your blanket a few times to varying degrees of horrid things. At the end of the night when you were certain everyone was asleep, usually very late, you'd creep down to the common room and huddle into your uncomfortable chair to sleep, only to be woken mere hours later when the first of the easy risers woke up. Your life was hell.

"There's just something I don't understand," Hermione says as they all stand on the bridge, the golden trio, Ginny and the Twins, all wrapped up in warm clothes and sweaters as they discuss the changes put into place since Umbridge had taken over as Headmistress. Naturally, the conversation had diverted to you, something Fred was entirely displeased about. The group turn to Hermione after her words, intrigued by the change in tone. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes before opening them again, as if building the strength to say her next sentence.

"I jinxed the enrolment parchment, for Dumbledore's Army," she admits, not quite meeting the gaze of the group around her. "It was purely a preventative measure, incase we were betrayed by one of our own. The person who disclosed any secrets would be jinxed to break out in spots, to spell out 'sneak' across their forehead, so we knew who the betrayer was. Y/N didn't have that, she never even had a single spot."

"Blimey Hermione," Ron says a little breathlessly, disbelieving she'd have actually gone that far.

"I know," she says a little defensively, "I just can't work out how she got around it!"

"Maybe she wrote her name wrong? Did she know about the jinx?" Harry suggests but Hermione shook her head, at the very same time that Ginny replied.

"I was behind her, I saw her write her name. It was right."

"Maybe the jinx didn't work?" Harry suggests carefully but stops himself when he receives a forceful glare from Hermione at the very notion of her failure.

"What does it matter? She dobbed us in wether or not she's covered in spots!" Ron says rather harshly, leaning against the wooden bannister.

Fred can't listen anymore, completely overwhelmed by the conversation and the thought of you betraying them. He turns and walks off back towards the castle without so much as a word to the others, not even his twin, and ignores their calls of his name as they watch him fade into the distance.

Spotting you sitting alone in the corner of the room when he returns to the common room, he frowns to himself. He'd known you since the moment you stepped on the Hogwarts express and had loved you for nearly just as long. It was wrong to see you sat alone, so sad and without the usual spark you naturally emitted. Everyone had always been drawn to you, your humour and wit, your dazzling smile, the fact you made everyone aroun you feel comfortable and valued. Too many boys had been drawn to you for his liking but you'd never even given them the time of day, never once wavering in your loyalty to him or ever made him doubt that it was him you wanted. You'd spent years supporting him, helping him and George develop their products, cheering for him loudly at every Quidditch game and had wormed your way into the hearts of every single one of his family members. Secretly, it crushed him to see you so lonely and tired, even if he still felt the sting of your betrayal.

It didn't add up, though he wouldn't disclose this to any of the more angered members of the group, why you would do such a thing. You'd been excited to start the DA, had joined in enthusiastically, kept the secret for so long and most of all you completely despised Umbridge. He couldn't deny that he still loved you, even though he was conflicted with his feelings now, he still held out hope that this would all go away, that there was a reasonable explanation but his anger wouldn't allow him to listen. It killed him to push you away, wanting nothing more than for things to return to normal but he felt a deep sense of betrayal that he couldn't shift.

"Fred?" He heard from behind him, pulling him out of his musings making him realise that he'd been staring at you all this time as he turned towards the person addressing him. Her name was Emery Atkinson, a Gryffindor from the year below that he'd never really acknowledged or spent much time with.

"Yeah?" He replies politely though he couldn't escape the edge of irritation after being pulled away from his thoughts. He watches as the girl giggles as soon as he acknowledges her and tucks a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

"Oh good I got the right twin!" She giggles, ignorant to the blank look she received from Fred. "I was wondering if you had some canary creams I could buy? My brother loves them and it's his birthday soon. Your inventions are so clever, I don't know how you and George find the time between your studies and Quidditch, it must be exhausting. You're so good as Quidditch, I always cheer you on. Plus your girlfriend, but I heard that you weren't together anymore right?"

Truthfully, Fred had only registered the first half of her speech, tuning out after Canary Creams but his attention had been drawn back at the mention of you. He can't help but feel that little stab of sadness at the mention of you, especially someone referring to you as his girlfriend, or Ex rather. In the back of his mind he wonders if you heard that, from your short distance away, he hoped not.

"I still can't believe it, why would she do that? If I was with you I wouldn't even dream of ruining it." She sounds faux-scandalised and quite frankly, rather bitchy as he reaches out to touch the sleeve of his sweater. Fred doesn't humour her and instead takes half a step back subtly, reaching to scratch the back of his head as a discreet way of getting her off.

"Er, yeah I think we have some creams leftover, I'll send George over with some later, alright?"

"Not you?" She says with a sad little face, trying out her best puppy dog eyes that have absolutely no affect on him.

"George deals with the confectionery," he says a little too quickly; which is a complete lie. "Sorry, I've got somewhere to be but I'll let him know you're interested in buying."

He breaks away, giving her a forced but polite smile and a brief, parting wave but it's awkward and he's inwardly cringing as soon as he puts his hand down. Turning to where you had been sat in the chair, he notices you've disappeared and he is instantly overcome with a wave of guilt. You'd heard it all.

—

The next few days passed in blur for Fred, his mind wandering between what he was doing and thoughts of you, like he couldn't concentrate for more than a minute. He felt so conflicted within himself, made worse by the time spent apart from you, the longing beginning to set in. He'd never really been apart from you for very long, at most only a few weeks during the summer holidays and even then you'd have sent numerous letters by now, keeping in contact as much as you could until you were back beside each other. Now it was just torture, having you so close but so far away and the knowledge that he was the one that had pushed you away only furthered his guilt and internal conflict.

Fred was in a terrible mood, battling his thoughts, surviving on very little sleep and now the threat of her sadistic punishment was the icing on the cake of a really crap day when he and George had been forced to Umbridge's office. Harry had been caught trying to use the floo, to alert the order or escape and had been caught red handed by Umbridge. Each member of the DA had been frogmarched into the office, shoved and restrained by members of the inquisitorial squad and each member looked as uneasy as the next. His stomach turned when he saw Ginny held down by Goyle and he fought to get out of Graham Montegue's hold but it was useless when Umbridge mindlessly cast a spell to subdue him.

Harry was sat in the chair in the centre of the room, the first to be questioned with Umbridge hovering dangerously close to him, her temper boiling over as she speaks frantically in his face.

"You were going to Dumbledore weren't you?" She says, leaning down threateningly in front of Harry.

"No," Harry responds.

"Liar!" She screams back and in a move that shocks each member of the DA, she pulls back her hand and slaps Harry hard around the face, the harsh sound echoing through the otherwise silent room.

She pauses for a moment, simply glaring at Harry until her face twists into a sick, twisted grin as she straightens up and composes herself, each movement carefully thought out as she turns her back to him.

"Very well, you give me no choice Potter," she says with an even cadence, her tone dangerously low. "As this is an issue of Ministry security, you leave me with... no alternative, unless Professor Snape arrives within moments."

Fred feels like he can hardly breathe, the tension and unease in the air so thick that the room feels like it's getting smaller by the second. The unpredictability of the woman before them was alarming, the dangerous undertone of her voice despite her light and breezy tone was almost scarier than his worst nightmare.

"The cruciatus curse ought to loosen your tongue," she says, adjusting her pink jacket.

"That's illegal," Hermione states in outrage but Umbridge hardly flinches. Instead, she reaches out for the photo frame of the minister on her desk and pauses briefly to look at it before turning it over and lying it down flat on the desk, so that Fudge could not see her next move. She straightens herself and extends her wand, only to stop when Snape appears by the door, his eyes fixed to her outstretched wand that was pointed directly at Harry.

"You sent for me Headmistress?"

"Snape, yes," she says, taking a step back and everyone in the room exhales, relaxing only slightly. "The time has come for answers, wether he wants to give them to me or not," she says, her eyes flicking to Harry only briefly.

"Might I suggest against the cruciatus curse this time headmistress," he says evenly and carefully, "the consequences of such an audience might be... disagreeable. In fact I would hesitate in conducting any of the prior disciplinary methods in this instance.""

This time? She'd used the cruciatus curse before? And on a student? Prior disciplinary methods? Fred thinks, did he mean the quill?

"Very well," she says after a moment of pondering, her arm falling to her side as she relents, eyes wandering over the all too familiar Quill that sits proudly on her desk before her gaze shifts back to Snape. "Have you brought the veritaserum?"

"I'm afraid you've used up all my stores, the last of it interrogating Miss y/l/n."

Snape carries on speaking but Fred doesn't hear a single word, blood rushing to his ears as his heart pounds. He feels like he's received a stray bludger straight to the chest, his stomach dropping with fresh shame, sadness and overwhelming guilt.

Suddenly it all made sense. She'd tortured you into giving out the information- the cruciatus curse, veritaserum, what else had she done to you?

He couldn't help but let out a dry sob at the information, sensing everyone's eyes on him at the news. He struggled against the holds with everything in him, needing to fix what he'd broken.

He'd believed them, so quickly, believed that you could have betrayed them like that. The pain you must have felt, the loneliness and the guilt and then after your whole ordeal he had cast you aside, pushed you away and never given you a single chance to explain.

He eventually turned to look at George who looked utterly broken by the news, his regretful inner thoughts so evident upon his face. Each member of the DA looked a mixture of guilty, sheepish and sad, realising how wrong they'd been about you and what they'd done to someone who had once been their friend, someone who had suffered so much for all of them.

The meeting seemed to go abhorrently slowly until Umbridge left with Harry and Hermione on a sort of mission based upon a quickly constructed lie and Fred didn't waste a single moment before turning around on the spot and punching Graham Montegue straight in the face as soon as Umbridge had left. Seizing the momentary upper hand, the remaining members of the DA turned on the inquisitorial squad and fired an array of jinxes and spells at them in order to get away.

"Fred, Go!" George had urged whilst stunning Crabbe, allowing Ginny to step free. Malfoy fought back but he was quickly matched by Angelina who covered for Fred, blocking the exit.

"Go, she needs you!" Angelina shouted as she sent a jinx flying towards Cassius Warrington's smug face.

Fred didn't hang about and immediately ran out of the office and towards the common room where he was praying you'd be. It was quiet on the main staircases, perhaps it seemed much quieter because of the lack of portraits and bare walls but even to the few people Fred passed, he offered no explanation nor cared about what they thought. He needed to find you.

"Y/n!" He said bursting through the portrait hole and scanning the common room for you, checking the chair you'd so often occupied but found nothing except a couple of bewildered faces at his strange outburst.

"Y/n?" He called again, walking up the stairs towards the dormitories but received no reply. In his haste, he accidentally misstepped as he climbed up to the girls dorm and nearly triggered the blocking slide to appease but fortunately managed to regain his balance and stress carefully over the path he'd taken so many times before, the secret message in the steps that allowed him to breach the rules.

He threw open your dormitory door and stopped blankly when he found nothing. Your bed looked like it hadn't been slept in, there was hardly any of your things around the bed and the room. Had he come to the wrong room?

"Fred?" Your voice said shyly from behind him and he whipped around to see you looking up at him hesitantly from near the door, holding a few things in your arms and your robe tied tightly around your chest.

"Y/n," he says with a sigh of relief, moving forwards quickly to reach out to you but once again stopping short as he noticed you visibly flinch at his sudden movement. Suddenly the overwhelming agony of guilt and regret hit him anew and he vowed to slow down, hoping not to scare you away.

"I'm so sorry," he said, voice breaking slightly as he looked at your tired, sullen face and those wide, scared eyes. He'd never seen you look so broken and it killed him.

"I didn't, I don't ," he stutters, dropping to sit on the side of your bed. "You haven't been sleeping here have you?"

There's a minor pause and he wonders if you're actually going to reply to him, if he even deserves it, until you step forward and place your things down onto the bedside table. He watches in silence, noting the large book and a few packaged bandages that slip onto the table as you gingerly take a seat beside him, your feet no longer touching the floor.

"Kind of hard to when you're banished by the rest of your dorm," you reply quietly. He can't detect the tone of your voice, expecting it to be sarcastic or unhappy but it actually sounds flat and completely void of emotion.

"The chair," he realises, "you've been sleeping in that chair?" He's slightly bewildered and profoundly ashamed now, not having clicked until now that you'd been there early in a morning and late in the night, much later than you'd ever typically stayed up before. You shrug and turn your attention away, though you're yet to actually meet his eyes.

He drags a deep breath in through his teeth, resisting the urge to hang his head low on his shoulders.

"Y/n, I am so sorry, I, I don't even have words," he says, stumbling over his words- something so uncharacteristic for him that it briefly startles you. "You didn't deserve this, even if you had told Umbridge about us, no one deserves this. We were all so shocked that it could be you, of all people. We never stopped to think of why," he pauses again, steadying himself. "Snape admitted what she did to you, she tried to use it on Harry but he stopped him."

"But the quill was broken? How could she use it on Harry?" You say, finally looking up with a look of complete confusion.

"What quill?" Fred asks, completely lost himself, "the black quills? I meant the cruciatus curse, she, I mean she, on you, didn't she?"

Your silence says everything and he has to close his eyes and steady his breathing at your silent confirmation.

"What quill?" Fred feels a little bolder now and reaches for you but you pull your arm back and place it in your lap, trying not to wince as you catch the healing scars. "This one?"

He holds out his hand and shows you the faint markings from his punishment, 'I must not break rules' barely visible now. He frowns when you shake your head but don't offer any other explanation. He's frustrated that he's not getting anywhere but it's internal and he knows it's not your fault, he just wishes he could help, or go back in time and fix everything.

"Tell me, please," he says, keeping his eyes locked in the side of your face, trying to urge you to look at him. "What happened in that detention?"

"It doesn't matter," you say quickly, hopping down off the bed and stepping over to your trunk to get a fresh shirt from the laundry pile, knowing it would need changing. "I've got to shower."

You go to turn away but Fred lunges for you and grabs your arm to stop you from leaving, making you cry out in pain as soon as his fingers make contact with the tender skin. As soon as the shock wears off, he frowns, looking down at your arm before looking up to your face, seeing tears falling down your cheeks.

"Please baby, please just tell me," he says, voice breaking as his own tears well up in his eyes.

"She told you about the veritaserum?" You ask, assuming anyway and Fred nods. "Then you know what you need to know."

"No, I don't," he says quickly, trying to think of ways to stop you leaving without hurting you. "She used an unforgivable curse on you! Gave you truth serum, you cried when I touched your arm and you have bandages on your bedside table, please just tell me what happened!"

"Fine," you say, pulling your arm back. "You want to know? She tried to force it out of me, tried to get me to drink the stupid tea but I wouldn't. When that didn't work she pulled out that little stupid quill and wrote anything she wanted all over me. You wanted to know about the bandages? Fine," you said viciously, clawing at the fastening of your robe. Underneath was your once crisp, white shirt that had a considerable amount of red blood staining the sleeve. You didn't stop undressing, all but ripping the buttons away as you fought to show Fred what was underneath.

Bandages littered your forearms, with blood oozing out the sides. Fred's frozen as he looks at the bandages on your body, sick to his stomach already.

"Did you know Snape is a skilled occlumens? I didn't, I do now. So after she was playing with that sadistic little quill, writing whatever she wanted into my skin, he enters my mind and shows me every single fear I've ever had, every nightmare. But I didn't say a word, not a single fucking word. Do you know what it's like to have visions forced into your own mind of your boyfriend dying in front of you repeatedly, over and over until you start to go mad? All whilst your skin is slashed open just to get you to talk? Only it didn't work, so she dropped the quill and picked up her wand. I've never felt closer to death in my life but still so far away from it. But I wouldn't talk. So she forced veritaserum in my mouth and I couldn't stop it, she got what she wanted no matter what I'd fought for. And the best part? They don't heal, not truly. Nothing I do stops it, like a constant reminder of what happened."

"Princess," Fred chokes out, tears streaming down his cheeks, fighting to hold back his sobs at your words.

"No, not princess," you say sternly, emotions all falling from your face. "Not anymore."

"Please, I want to make this right, anything I can do, I want to support you," he says, nearly begging. "I have to make this right, I can't lose you."

"No."

Your voice is harsh and stern, your face expressionless again. "You believed them so easily, you all did. You believed I could do that to you, without hesitation. You didn't let me explain, never even looked at me because you were so certain that I could have done it. I've been exiled, banished and forgotten by all of you I called friends without a single thought. So you and your stupid brother and the rest of Dumbledore's friggin army can go fuck yourselves, it's not my fight anymore."

Fred flinches as the door slams shut behind you and he's left to sob openly, his devastation consuming him. Eventually when he returns to his own dorm, George says nothing upon seeing his twin's stricken face and his curtains fully closing around the bed.

The next morning, Fred has already left the dorm by the time George wakes up and doesn't see him at all around the common room or the hall, though he's not surprised. But when he doesn't show to his lessons, George worries and goes in search for his twin with increasing worry. Eventually, he finds him in the library, pouring over an array of books from the restricted section, most of them about healing spells and anatomy.

"Freddie?"

When Fred looks up with red rimmed eyes and an intense look in his eyes, it's clear to George that Fred hadn't slept. "Whatever it is, let me help."

One week. It took one week of endlessly pouring over book after book until they finally found options.

It's early morning on a Saturday when Fred creeps down to the common room was before the sun has risen, seeing you hunched over in your chair. Angelina had told him that they'd apologised profusely to you and had accepted you back with open arms back to the dormitory but you'd simply walked away and carried on sleeping by the fire, not yet willing to forgive them for the treatment you'd endured.

"Y/n, y/n, wake up," he says quietly, carefully touching your shoulder, trying to avoid anywhere that he had seen bandaged.

"Freddie?" You ask sleepily and his heart soars with hope at the noise, the familiarity of it abs the softness of your voice so heartwarming.

"I have something to show you, me and George," he says lightly, waiting for you to wake up.

"Told you both to get fucked," you mumble, squashing any hope he had, but he perseveres.

"Just this once prince-y/n, please," he says quietly. You open your eyes, seeing him still dressed in his pyjamas, pleading with his eyes and looking so vulnerable that you relent and agree to whatever he had planned. Throwing back the blanket, you surprise a groan at the stiffness in your neck and diligently follow him back up the stairs towards his dorm, accepting his hand as he guides you. Your hand fits perfectly into his, just as it always had.

"Where's Lee?" You say as you walk into the dorm room, seeing only George who gives you a small but timid smile.

"Bunking with Ron," Fred says somewhat vaguely, gesturing for you to sit on his bed. The room looks exactly as you remember albeit slightly less dishevelled than you'd experienced previously, but you don't mention anything. Fred takes a seat beside you and George moves forward, grabbing a book from the chair beside his bed.

"We don't know if this will work," George says.

"But it's better than nothing," Fred finishes, gingerly reaching out for your hand.

"What?"

"The wounds," George says gently, "Fred told me, we just want to make them better. Might not get rid of them completely but it's worth a shot."

"Found this in an old healing book, it's a counter curse for wound healing by curse," Fred says, taking the book from George to show you. "Figured Umbridge's quill must have been cursed so this might work. Please let us help."

All it takes is a nod from you, albeit slightly hesitant but truthfully there was no one you trusted more than the twins, before at least.

You could hardly look them in the eyes as you pulled away the bandages, the vile words etched into your skin by her personal sadistic quill. You heard George inhale at the deepest cut along your inner right forearm but didn't react, knowing it would be shocking to anyone.

"Take my hand, if it hurts too much all you have to do is squeeze and we'll stop, okay baby?"

Biting down on your lip to stifle your cries, you hold Fred's hand tightly as George begins to cast the counter-curse, each of you watching on with rapt attention and slight amazement as the cuts begin to slowly knit together. It was working.

You whimper as he works over the deepest, the same one Fred had accidentally caught the week before and Fred's hand squeezes yours automatically for support.

"You're doing so well sweetheart, it'll be over soon I promise," he says quietly in your ear, comforting you in anyway he could.

After the last cut is sealed, George immediately drops down to sit onto his bed, his concentration and energy depleted from focusing so hard. You can't believe it as you look down at your arms, no longer seeing blood and only able to see the faintest of marks and redness where the wounds had once been. Only then do tears begin to fall from your eyes as you launch yourself towards Fred, throwing your arms around him in appreciation. He steadies himself after a moment of being caught off guard and holds you tightly against him, shushing you gently as you cry. His arms wrap around you so perfectly, so protectively and his smell comforts you like to no other, exactly as you remember.

"You did so well, so well, it's okay baby," he coos into your ear. You pull apart slowly and immediately walk over to George, pulling him into a hug though it's a lot less intimate.

"Thank you both so much," you sniffle.

"You're welcome," they answer at the same time, making you smile.

"We've missed you," George says after a moment. "I'm so sorry for what you went through and for what I said. I should have known it wasn't your fault, you've been my best friend for so long and I'm so ashamed of myself for how easily I believed her over you, that should never have happened."

"And you know how sorry I am," Fred says, walking over to you and kneeling down until he's directly in front of you.

"You're the best thing that has ever happened to me and I was an idiot for ever thinking it was you. I know things can't ever go back to how they were before, but I love you so much that I can't lose you. Seeing you hurting almost broke me and I know that you might need time or never see me again but you need to know exactly how I still feel about you."

"It's not just you," you say in reply, heaving out a long breathe, "I pushed people away."

"We deserved it," George says.

"Baby," Fred says gently, getting your attention. "I don't know how to fix this or how to make things better, but I'll do anything. I was an idiot, a complete git but I'll spent the rest of my life trying to make it up to you. Please say this isn't ruined."

For the first time since the incident, you allow yourself to feel hopeful that things could get better, that Fred could love you again. Sat surrounded by the two people you loved most in the world, you finally felt the love and protection you'd been needing since that awful night.

"I want that," you say quietly, picking at the blanket under your fingers, "I just want things to just go back to normal." You raise your eyes up to Fred's to see him smiling back at you, clearly pleased with your words.

"Well, let's start with this then," he says with a mischievous smirk, leaning towards you painfully slowly as if he's giving you plenty of time to say no or push him away. His soft lips press against yours gently and you can't help but feel a warmth spread all over your body, almost like you were defrosting and returning back to you're usual self. His hand reaches up to cup the side of your jaw and you're certain you can feel a fear hit your cheek, though it doesn't come from you.

The next morning, you walk hand in hand with Fred into the great hall for breakfast and sit right back at the centre of the table with your friends. You assume Fred or George had threatened them not to say anything as everyone around you acts normal, pretending the previous weeks didn't exist, though one by one they all apologised to you, most notably Ron and Harry. Ginny thought you were badass for everything you'd been through, not relenting even though you'd been tortured into eventually revealing the secret. Hermione had apologised so eloquently and thoroughly that you both ended up crying in the common room as she explained about the jinxed parchment and how she'd held out hope that it hadn't been you.

Each person made it up to you in anyway they could, admitting their mistakes and regrets and though you would probably never forget, you chose to forgive.

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#emeritusemeritus #emeritusemerituswrites #harry potter #fred weasley #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley masterlist #Fred Weasley angst #request #taglist

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mastermindmiko · 7 months

Text

Milestones

Pairing: Fred Weasley + fem!reader

summary: A small blurb of a night at the burrow in bed with Fred

Word count: 762

Warnings: none, but lmk

Requests are open

I wrote this in a grand total of fifteen minutes at 1am, so if there's any mistakes please don't mind them, and let me know

masterlist

"I'm sorry about my family" Fred whispers so low that I almost don't hear him. I move my head to the side to face him with a frown. I ask, "what?"

"They can be a little much sometimes I know." Fred continues and I find myself even more confused. I place one of my hand's to his face and I ask, "what makes you say that?"

He doesn't say anything, but I don't press, hoping that he will say something anyway. I rub my thumb in soft circles over his cheek, and I shuffle a bit under the covers. He holds my wrist, taking my hand off his face to press a kiss to my palm. Even after dating for a while now, I still get butterflies.

"I've been told that my family comes on a bit strong. Mom with her affection, dad with all his muggle gadgets, Charlie with the dragons-" Fred starts but I cut him off, unable to hear him say anything else, "Fred, no don't say that. I love your family."

"Really?" Fred asks, hesitantly. I nod my head eagerly, and ask, "what made you think that Fred?"

"I wanted you to like me- I didn't want my family to freak you out." Fred replies with a small blush on his cheeks. I smile at him and say, "if you haven't noticed Fred I do like you, that's why I'm your girlfriend."

"Hopefully it stays that way." Fred mumbles as he pulls me closer to him. I nuzzle my face into his chest as he wraps his arms around me. He rests his chin on my head and I don't think I've ever felt more relaxed. He asks, "well aside from my family, how was your day?"

"It was good, I read a new book, it was great." I say as I recall the events of what I'm sure is now one of my favourite books. Fred says, "you can tell me all about it tomorrow."

"But nothing else really, what about you?" I ask him lifting my head up so I can look at his gorgeous brown eyes. He smiles and says, "George and I found a good location for the shop, it's in diagon alley and above it, there is a good apartment-it's all within the budget of course."

"Fred, that's great. I'm so excited for you." I beam at the wonderful news, and I can see that mischievous and excited look in his eyes, the same one he always had when he was about to prank someone, except that this time it was bigger.

"The apartment is great too, two bathrooms, two bedrooms- that is if you don't mind us sharing the apartment with George" Fred rambles, and I blink for a second before realising. I tease, " Fredrick gedion weasley! Is this your way of asking me to move in with you?"

He rubs the back of his neck, sheepishly. He says, " I kind of hoped that you wouldn't notice and just say yes. Things have been going well, I just thought that it was time- unless of course you don't want to-"

"Of course I want to, you idiot." I cut him off and nuzzle my head back into his chest. He wraps his arms more tightly around me and he presses a kiss to the top of my head and whispers, "good."

"Its got a big kitchen too since I know you like to bake." Fred says like he's still trying to convince me to move in with him, I would move in with him into a swamp if he asked me to. I reply, "Just some anxiety cookies no big deal."

"It doesn't matter what's their cause what matters is that they're damn good and by the way I love you" He says quickly that I almost don't catch it. My goes go wide and I look up at him and tease, "Crossing off a lot of big milestones today, Fred. What's next you're gonna pop out an engagement ring then tell me you're pregnant"

"Haha very funny" He replies, sarcastically, avoiding my gaze. I continue with a wide grin, I still can't believe he said it, "No seriously should I buy baby clothes, get you my ring size-"

"Go to sleep, love." He whispers before turning to the side to close the bedside lamp. I'm still smiling when I say, "Okay."

I wait a few seconds before pressing a knee to his cheek and wrapping my arms around his torso. I say, cheerfully, "I love you too by the way, goodnight."

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l0standn0tf0und · 5 months

Text

more of my fav works with George Weasley

first part

third part

fourth part

fifth part

♡ = smut, 18+ only

her rhinestones, they shine endlessly

i think he’d look worse in pink

wish it on your worst enemy

goofy summer morning

dear george, love (y/n)

the rest will be history (I'm not afraid of these words: THIS IS LITERALLY THE BEST THING I'VE EVER READ! I mean, I cried, and I laughed, and it's just the best 4,9k words in my life)

what once was mine

don't make her wait

freckles and smiles

pretty good idea

little white lies

pay attention

in disguise

only angel

blindsided

space girl

alright

flying

♡www

♡alone at last

♡one more night

♡decorated for me

♡delightfully devilish

♡each other's first time

♡george weasley during sex

♡george weasley headcanons

♡nsfw alphabet for george & y/n

♡kinktober 2023 - george weasley

♡george overstimulating you, and you cry

all the love to the authors of all these masterpieces: @dracoxsworld @george-weasleys-girl @siriusblackloml @acciojaeyun @gimme-gimme-georgie-weasley @desideriumwriter @pinkandblueblurbs @thebadgerclan @horrorxweasley @elfenbensord @honeymoonblues @lightininglydia @hpimaginesandblurbs @weelittleweasley

masterlist

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angelblacksmith · 2 years

Text

Kissing with Fred Weasley would include

Pairing: Fred Weasley x fem!Reader

Warning: non

So, Fred is a fan of the PDA.

So he will kiss you everywhere.

In the library.

On the astronomical tower.

In the dungeons of Snape, when you are left for punishment.

Fred's kisses are always unexpected.

But his kisses are often very long and slow.

Very sensual.

After such kisses, he usually bites your lower lip slightly.

Light and quick kisses between classes.

Passionate and long in empty classrooms or the library.

Fred likes to kiss your wrists.

And also, as I wrote above.

Fred is not afraid of the PDA.

And willingly likes to leave hickeys on your neck.

Gentle and tired kisses after a hard day.

When the lips barely touch.

When you move in with him after graduating from Hogwarts.

Fred gets into the habit of kissing you on the shoulder in the morning.

Besides, we all know that Fred is a great joker.

So giggling kisses are your most frequent kisses with Fred.

buymeacoffee

6K notes · View notes

siredtoyourlips · 7 months

Text

You should look at yourself ~ Fred.W x Fem!Reader

Summary: An eventful morning leaves you vulnerable, covered in paint, and speechless but what leaves you even more speachless is the words that come out of your ex's mouth. Do you believe him or hate him? ( find out)

Warnings: smut but not detailed just mostly readers thoughts, a little angst, humiliation, crying ( barely), drama, eating out, lots and lots of kissing, p-in-v, swearing, moaning, use if the word God, body kissing, fred is very hot, not a warning but kinda is sweet!fred, rumors, lying and more:)

900 words;)

Ps: left the ending where I could make a part two so like tell me if you would want that.

Fred Weasley, You heard of him before. Hot, flirty, prankster, twin, hot. Your ex. Didn't end on the greatest tearms. You got word that he cheated and broke up with him. Then after that you found out that he didn't but it was too late. The rumors were out that he was sleeping around, and not being serious.

Since the night you didn't talk to him but you see him around and staring but never thought anything of it because you thought it was hate or anger. You had him in Snape's class and he always sat a row next to you.

You've never been a victim of his pranks even though his own siblings have, and his friends and even strangers and teachers.

Here you are now on the way into his class, late. You had an accident while cleaning you picked up the paint and got it all over you. You had to take a shower and change your clothes and now you're going to be late.

You see that Snape's not there yet and go to walk in and all of a sudden paint gets thrown all over you again. Everyone looked at you, they knew who did it and who it was for. Some were laughing, some were gasping, but you just walked away, ran actually. It was the most embarrassing moment of your life.

You wanted to curl up in a ball, to stop existing, to never see any of those people again. So you ran to your dorm, leaving a trail of red paint from the classroom to your dorm room.

Not even minute later you hear a bang at your door. Assuming it's one of your friends you open it, but the only person you see is him, the last person you wanted to see at the moment. You go to slam the door in his face but he stops you and barges in the room.

" Please Y/n, just listen to me". He said and before you can get a word in he says "it wasn't for you, it was for Snape, he's been such an arse lately and I thought he deserved it. I never thought it would have been you walking through the door, I thought you were skipping not late. I'm so sorry. Please let me make it up to you" all in one breath. You didn't know what to say, so all that came out was "ok" and you walked to the bathroom and he followed.

"Fred, what do you want? I said ok, I believe you. You can go now" you spat. But he didn't leave instead he wiped some of the paint off of your lips and kissed you. He kissed you so hard that you almost fell into the tub. But he cought you and put his clean forehead Against yours.

"Fred". You started but before you could finish he said " it's not true, I would never. I love you more than anything, I would do anything for you. You are the love of my life. I am nothing without you. The rumors were just that, rumors not true". You just smiled at him and said " you got paint on you" his laughing filled up the room " me?" He asked " you should look at yourself" be says while kissing you. "You want to take a shower with me?" You ask. " I mean since you asked" and then be turned on the water and you both got undressed and stepped into the water.

He instantly started cleaning your arms and back and hair while you cleaned your face. Every chance he got, he kissed you. He washed and washed until you both were all clean. Then he turned the water off and walked you out while kissing you. He walked to the bed and laying you down. "This okay baby?". God, you thought he's so hot " mhm, yeah" and he started kissing you from your neck to your brests, to your stomach which was always his favorite part of tour body, down to your thighs and finally to your core.

And God, was he good at making you feel good. It's been months since he's touched you and you've been craving him, his kiss, his tougne, his finger, but especially his cock. And he knew what you wanted by the way you were looking at him, and the way you were acting. And he gave it to you. And it felt so good.

"Shit" he mumbled " Oh my god" you moaned and what felt like the next hour went like that. It was so good, and you came so many times that you forgot about everything else.

All your worries, all your cares just disappeared like before. Before you let all the rumors get to your head, before you left him, before everything went to shit. And when you finally came down from your high he was there, it wasn't a dream it was real. He was real. And he was hot.

" you ok?" He asked and you just smiled and nodded while laying on his shoulder. And everything was perfect. Until you heard a bunch of voices and realized you never but a silencing charm on the dorm and you both looked at eachother and mumbled "fuck".

#smut #fred weasley smut #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley fic #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley angst #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #fred weasly x reader

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weasley-wizard-writes · 1 year

Text

Betrothed Part III

Fred Weasley x Reader x Draco Malfoy

Series Synopsis: Having been raised in a pureblood family obsessed with keeping the bloodline pure you’re betrothed at birth to a boy you’ve never met. Unaware of just how strange this is, you have few qualms with it, until you meet Fred Weasley and find that love is much more complicated than you ever could’ve imagined. But what happens when everyone is all grown up, and the real world can’t be stopped?

Genre: Angst

Content Warnings:

Angst

Death

Forced Marriage

Word Count: 3,516

“Sorry for the mess.”

You muttered softly as you unlocked the door to your apartment, sighing in relief at the sight of it. Your mother had called you foolish when you’d told her that you had no intention of breaking your lease with the landlord, but evidently she hadn’t taken Draco’s odd post war demeanor into account. He would stay anywhere if it kept him from that damned family manor, and that was becoming all the more evident as time inched forward. He had grown significantly less tense the further away you had traveled from his family home, and now that it was confirmed that he could stay elsewhere, that hint of a smile that you had seen during the wedding had returned to his lips once more.

“Nonsense.”

Was Draco’s only response to your previous apology, his words soft and almost uncertain as he turned to look at you, before suddenly dropping his gaze towards the ground, his hand fiddling with the ring on his finger once more.

“Is it uncomfortable?”

You asked suddenly, trying to make up for the heavy silence that was slowly filling your apartment. You didn’t want to feel uncomfortable here, it was all that you had of yourself and your comfort now that you were married, and if that changed you weren’t sure how you could ever remain sane.

Draco’s head snapped up to meet your gaze once more, his brow cocked in confusion as he tried to make sense of the question you had just asked him.

“I beg your pardon?” He asked sincerely, causing you to gesture down to the ring on his left finger.

“The ring,” You murmured, suddenly less sure of yourself as you tried to push forward with the conversation, desperate to keep the silence from eating away at you any longer. All of these months of hearing Fred’s voice so consistently had made you dreadfully afraid of what could be waiting on the other side of the sound he was almost always providing.

“You’ve been playing with it a lot.”

You clarified gently, clearing your throat in hopes that it might make your voice sound less weak as you continued.

“I thought it could be because it’s making you uncomfortable. I’m certainly not used to mine yet.”

You touched your ring finger as you said that last part, feeling the cool emeralds housed within their silver setting against your skin, a reminder of the promise you had made today, and the agreement others had made for you prior to your birth.

Draco nodded in understanding as you clarified before he cleared his own throat, a nervous smile gracing his lips as his gaze returned down to the ring on his finger. He seemed happy to have it there, and you wondered again if he had worn one there before.

“No, it isn’t uncomfortable.”

Draco’s voice was soft as he spoke, so different from the boy you had grown up with and the man you had thought you would be marrying prior to the war. The man you had been dreading lying to for the rest of your life.

“I uh...”

He trailed off, breaking into a chuckle while bringing one of his knuckles to his mouth, something you had seen him due a great deal of times when you were younger. He always did that when he was nervous, because back when his adult teeth were growing in, Astoria had told him he looked like a rabbit when he smiled. Afterward, he had taken to biting down on his knuckles when he laughed, and as he grew older, biting on his knuckles when his nerves got the better of him. You were surprised to know this, and found yourself aware that maybe this man before you wasn’t as different as the boy you had known as a child, before the stress of being the Malfoy heir had turned him into someone new.

You were broken out of your thoughts as Draco began to speak once more, his fist slowly lowering back down to his side, before it moved to his other hand once more, fiddling with his ring even as he talked about that very action.

“This is a little bit embarrassing, so please don’t think less of me, but...”

He began, letting out a small sigh as you motioned for him to continue, your expression soft and curious.

“I started wearing a ring on this finger when I began my attendance at Hogwarts. I didn’t want to give any of the girls there the wrong idea, and thought it would be best to let them know in advance that I was taken. Plus I uh... I thought it would be good practice for the real thing someday, but mostly it just led to this habit of fiddling with it when I think.”

You found yourself nearly wide eyed at Draco’s confession, unable to force a response to your tongue as you stared at him, watching as he continued to twist his silver band on his finger repeatedly.

“I never knew...”

You began quietly, watching as Draco looked up to meet your eyes as you spoke, letting you know that your next words should be chosen carefully. He was paying attention now, and slowly but surely you were getting the feeling that he always had been, even if you hadn’t noticed.

“I never knew you cared that much about our betrothal.” You finished softly, feeling yourself begin twisting your own wedding ring to keep your hands from shaking.

This was not how you had imagined your wedding night. That being said, although you would never admit it aloud, your wedding night dreams died with Fred Weasley, and anything that came after would always pale in comparison, because the most important piece of the puzzle was gone for good.

Draco laughed softy, a cool tone to his voice that you recognized from all of his in between years, the ones that rested between his gentle childhood and his tortured present. This sounded like the Draco that you had thought you could never know, the one that angrily stalked the halls of your once shared school, looking for a reason to argue with anyone on the off chance that it might earn him some praise from one of the many deceitful and hate filled patriarchal figures in his life. It never had. Perhaps now, that was why he had returned to that gentle childhood. Why he lived in this tortured present.

“I know you didn’t. I was always too proud to admit how I felt, but Y/n...”

That coldness you had heard before disappeared the second the man in front of you said your name, a softness returning to him that you had not even realized had momentarily faded away.

Draco was watching you intently now, his eyes staring into your own from where he stood just a mere two feet away, beside the door to the apartment that you supposed the two of you now shared.

“There was not one moment growing up where I wasn’t near bursting with excitement over the fact that I could call you my wife someday. Even if I never said it, and even if you never noticed, I swear to you that what I say is true. I felt a great deal of pride over being your betrothed, even when I knew the truth.”

Your eyebrows creased at that last part, confusion creeping into your expression as what he said started to sink in.

“The truth?”

You asked, your head tilting as you waited for a response, your breath caught in your throat and unwilling to spill forth as Draco chuckled once more, that shake returning to his head, as if he were exasperated or shocked by your response.

“The truth,”

Draco muttered, raising his gaze to meet your own again, taking multiple steps forward until he was less than a foot away, his eyes flickering down to the way your calves pressed back against the couch, as if he had cornered you there during your efforts to escape. For all that you knew, maybe he had. You could no longer recollect if you’d moved in response to his steps forward. You could barely breathe at all. The air was so heavy with something you couldn’t quite put your finger on, and for some reason you felt as if you could burst into tears at any moment.

“Is that you loved that Fred Weasley more than you could ever love me.”

You felt as if you had just been punched in the gut as Draco spoke these words, your balance faltering and ultimately failing as you toppled backwards onto the couch, your gaze turning into a blank stare as he continued.

“And I can’t even blame you.” Draco spoke, laughing cruelly under his breath, seemingly oblivious to your blank stare and your freshly seated position. It was as if he was lost in his own world, his words having as much power over him as they did you.

“I have never been much more than the monster my father wanted me to be.”

These words were whispered, as if the man speaking them wasn’t sure he wanted you to hear. As if he were hoping it was a secret he was telling, rather than a truth that you had long since accepted.

Suddenly, Draco’s eyes snapped up to meet yours once again, and when he found himself met with that blank stare, he seemed to understand immediately that he had said something he shouldn’t have.

“Y/n,”

He spoke, his tone concerned and almost pained as he knelt in front of you, his hand reaching out to grasp your own before he suddenly pulled back at the last second, as if afraid he would burn you with his touch.

“Salazar, I’m sorry.”

He muttered, running his hand through his hair before continuing his familiar ministrations on his ring, his eyes searching yours for any signs of emotion or life as his eyebrows creased with concern. You had never seen him look worried over anyone before, and it was this face of near horror that brought you back, the dim light of feeling returning to your eyes once more. If you could see yourself through your new husband’s eyes, you would have found yourself wondering if that light had been brighter before, but thankfully for you, the only eyes you had to gaze into right now belonged to the man in front of you.

“Y/n please say something, I didn’t mean to upset you, I just wanted you to understand...”

Draco let out another gravelly sigh before continuing, his hand raking through his platinum locks, messing up his carefully done wedding night hair.

“I don’t have any expectations for this marriage.” Draco continued, his hands moving to seek yours once more, only for him to stop himself again, his eyes squeezing shut as if he were struggling with some deep and rolling agony within.

“I know you loved him, and I don’t want you to think that I expect you to lo-”

“I never told him.”

You whispered suddenly, cutting Draco off before he could finish his sentence. Your voice was shaky and full of fear as you spoke, and as you looked deeper into your new husbands clear blue eyes, you found that your reflection looked just as terrified as you felt.

“What?”

Draco asked, his hand finally moving to rest almost weightlessly above your own, as if he wanted to help soothe whatever fears you had but didn’t know if he had the right to do anything more than a slight hover, the heat of his skin more prevalent than the actual touch of his hand.

“I never told him that I loved him. He was never supposed to know.”

You finished, that fear never leaving your eyes nor your voice even as you tried desperately to quell the shake of your body beneath the gaze of this sometimes familiar and sometimes unknown presence that you now called your husband.

Draco looked more confused than ever, slowly withdrawing his hand from above your own as he tried to understand what meaning your words held.

“Did I do something wrong by saying it aloud?”

He asked finally, his eyebrows still creased with curiosity and something close to fear that told you how bad he felt and how scared he was to have messed up.

Clearly, some things never changed.

“Oh, no, I just uh...”

You desperately searched for an answer to his question, trying to silence the deafening noise behind your eyes as you stood, dizzy and desperate to be alone.

“I just wasn’t prepared to have someone say it.”

You finished, knowing full well how nervous you sounded and how much of a lie it was.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n.”

Draco whispered in response, as if he had been waiting his entire life to say it. This apology was different from all of the others, and there was a pain within it that made you stop before you could excuse yourself to your bedroom.

You looked down to meet that strong gaze once more only to find it full of tears, a broken man behind those usually strong and sure eyes.

“Draco, I-”

“I’m sorry for being so selfish for so long. I’m sorry for never just admitting it to myself and letting you go. I wanted so badly to be a different husband, a better husband than the one that I had grown up under, and somehow I ended up worse.”

That cold and cruel chuckle returned as Draco turned his gaze downward, seemingly unable to look you in your eyes as he continued.

“If I had known what was going to happen, I never would have held onto you. If I had allowed myself to see it sooner, I wouldn’t have remained an obstacle on the path of you finding someone who actually deserved you. I have tried for so long now to convince myself that I never held you back, but I know it’s all a lie.”

Draco sniffled softly, his tears dripping to rest on his cheeks and slowly slope down his nose as he struggled to meet your eyes once more, his sincerest words yet forming on his lips,

“Please just know that I never wanted this to happen, that I would have set you free in a second had I been strong enough to admit to myself that you loved him far more than you ever could me. I never meant to do this to you, and I swear that I will spend every second of this marriage making up for what I’ve done, and what I never had the strength to do before.”

With those words, Draco straightened out, drying his tears on his jacket as he took a deep breath to steady himself once more.

Watching him as he desperately tried to tape the broken and guilt riddled pieces of himself back together felt wrong, so on shaky legs and with long held breaths you walked silently over to the linen closet, pulling out a comforter and a few pillows, which you dressed with carefully selected matching pillow cases, the act of choosing forcing you to consider anything but the conversation you had just had, and the voice that was raging in your mind.

“Thank you.”

Draco smiled genuinely as you handed the blanket and pillows over to him, his eyes reading your expression before you even had the chance to speak.

“I’m perfectly fine with sleeping on the couch for the time being.”

He stated calmly,

“I’m just grateful that I don’t need to stay back at the manor. I’ll gladly sleep on the sofa as long as it takes if it keeps me away from there.”

He nearly shuddered as he spoke, making you wonder once more what he must have endured there to feel so uncomfortable within its walls.

You watched as Draco settled in, making sure he had everything he needed before you ended up standing against the wall opposite the living room that he would be sleeping in, your hand poised over the light switch. You had said your good nights, pleasantries had been shared, and now the only thing left to do was turn the light off and leave. But even still, watching the blond laying there on your sofa like that, you couldn’t help but feel like you had to say something more.

“Draco I -”

You began softly, your voice shaky as tears threatened to spill over your cheeks just as they had done his not long prior.

“I know you’ll probably never believe me, but I want you to know that I don’t blame you.”

You said gently, feeling the confusing urge to comfort the man in front of you further, despite the fact that you had absolutely no idea how to do so.

“I was a coward. He was never meant to know, betrothal or not. Please don’t let this eat away at you the way I know so many other things do. You were a victim, not a villain. I have never seen you as the monster you think that you are.”

You finished quietly, not waiting for a reaction or a response to your words as you switched the light off quickly before taking long and gentle steps to your bedroom, latching the door behind you before you sunk down against it, finally allowing the tears to fall.

“I am so sorry Fred.”

You whispered weakly after a few moments of gentle sobs and painful hiccups, the agony in your words prevalent as you recalled the way that his pained voice had echoed around your mind when Draco had accidentally told him your biggest secret of all.

“You loved me?”

It had asked you, softly at first, as if in disbelief, before it increased in volume over and over and over again until you felt as if your head was about to split in two.

It had taken a painstaking amount of effort to not respond to him as he begged you to tell him that it was a lie, that choked up voice playing endlessly as he pleaded for an explanation.

“Godrich Y/n, I never made you explain what I saw before I died, and I never asked you why you never told me about this godforsaken betrothal, but I need you to tell me this isn’t true! I need you to say he’s making this up, or that this is some dream you can’t wake yourself up from! Tell me he’s lying!”

Your tears fell faster as you remembered those words, your body shaking in a nearly violent manner as you curled up on your side, wishing with everything you had that he were here to hold you together.

But he wasn’t.

You were all alone, an emptiness in your heart that you had not felt in quite some time. Since before you had heard his voice in your head for the very first time, just two days after his death.

“Please come back.” You pleaded, not caring if Draco heard you from the living room as you did.

There was a strong silence within the air, before that familiar voice appeared once more, making your tears fall faster, but your heart beat slower.

He wasn’t gone forever, at least not yet.

“I don’t know what to say.”

His voice sounded hopeless, and entirely humorless in nature. You had never heard him like this before, and it further solidified for you the fact that you weren’t just hearing things after all, something you had tried to convince yourself of for months following your best friend’s death.

It as an easier thing to accept than the idea that he was there within your mind, but not outside of it, never to be seen again. Oh how you wished that you could look into his eyes just one more time.

“Please don’t hate me.”

You whispered, more tears threatening to spill over as you awaited Fred’s response, your cheeks cold with half dried sadness.

“I could never hate you.”

His voice spoke soothingly, almost as if he were hurt that you could ever think such a thing.

There was a long silence between the two of you before finally, Fred spoke up again,

“I think that is the worst part of all of this,”

You could almost feel him sigh as you waited for him to continue speaking, your breath stuck once more within your strained lungs.

“I love you, Y/n L/n,”

His words sounded tearful as he spoke, as if his disembodied voice were crying the same way that you were.

“I was just too afraid to tell you. I was so sure that you could never love me back that I...”

Fred never finished that sentence, and for the rest of the night, you lay on the cold floor of your nearly empty bedroom, choking down tears in an effort to stop them from flowing endlessly down your face and into a puddle on the wood below.

MASTERLIST

Ko-fi

#Draco Malfoy x reader #Draco x reader #Draco Malfoy #Draco #Harry potter x reader #Draco x reader angst #Draco x Reader x Fred #Fred Weasley x reader #Fred x reader #fred weasley #Fred weasley angst #Fred weasley x reader angst

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cherry-pop-elf · 26 days

Text

Birthday Boys

It’s Fred and George’s birthday, and you wanted to give them something very special. It’s hard to give them something like that, but you are married to them for a reason. As if they would ever settle for someone boring, now would they?

Warnings: 18+, Double Penetration (A and V), teasing, breeding, overstimulation, dirty talk, birthday suits ((hehe)) lipstick kink(?) and of course Fred Lives. Because I said so ((George still missing an ear tho! Bleh-!))

“Well what’s this?” George would blink, as a paper airplane would land itself on his desk. Fred would raise a brow, as he set down the ink he had grabbed for his younger twin. It’s April First. The ever busiest day of the year, and their birthday as well. That meant they were swamped with work, and just trying to finish the day. The shop may be closed, now, but damn they were still drowning.

“Don’t just stare at it, open it up-!” Fred would bonk the younger twin, with his wand, making him fix at his hair. He would give a grumble, as he unfolded the neat little parchment. By the hand writing alone, he knew it was from you. What was written made him a bit flushed in the cheeks. Always was the more emotional of the two, so Fred was quick to look over his shoulder. Reading along.

To my special Birthday Boys. You two have been working so hard all day. Such a wonderful occasion deserves a present, doesn’t it? I better expect you to leave paper work for later, and hurry up to our bedroom. It gets rather chilly being all alone. I don’t want your present to get cold either. Not when I worked so hard to wrap it all up so nicely in purples and oranges. If you don’t want it, I’ll be more than happy to make use of it all myself. Sincerely yours~!

Never had they side alone aparated so fast in their life. Gave you quite the startle, to suddenly see them. You should have figured they wouldn’t waste time, but boy they move fast. Even after all these years together, it catches you by surprise. Though, this time they were the ones with wide eyes this time around.

There you were, in the middle of the bed, dressed to the nines. A array of orange, and purple, fabric against your skin. Stockings of lace. Done up so pretty to mimic that of a fire work, with little dots all around. The fingerless arm length gloves had to be, as to help bring focus to how bare the rest of you were. Nothing else to your skin, but your own birthday suit. Besides so heavy makeup, because you knew they loved it when it got all ruined. What really sold it was the bows all over you. Around your thighs, wrists, neck, just for the comical effect of a birthday present. Hey, it’s April Fools. Gotta get silly.

“H-“ Before you could get a single syllable out, they were on you. Like starving dogs. Clothes were flying, and your body was quick to be sandwiched between the two men. Your neck attacked in kisses, and their ever rough hands trailing your skin. Tracing all the invisible lines they had tracked on you.

“Guess you like the surprise-?” You joked, as you were leaning yourself against Fred. While George was enjoying your front. Sucking plenty of hickies on your skin, while Fred was enjoying playing with your nipples. Had you squeak, and flush, as he was enjoying the happily given toy.

“Taking that as a yes-“ You sighed, as you were just a meal for the wolves. Wolves that always had your flavor of flesh in mind. It just felt so good to be so desired. To be wanted so badly, it could hurt. Especially after such an exhausting day, they needed to get that pent up steam out.

“Been thinking about you all day long-“ George would sigh, as he stole your lips into his own. Happily allowing your lipstick to stain his own, while your hips rubbed onto the building hard on in Fred’s lap. Just a tangle of wild limbs, and you couldn’t have loved anything more.

“Come on, save some for me. Give em here-“ And you would be stolen by Fred next. Making sure he got his lips stained all the same. George didn’t complain, as he would let the lipstick residue trail over your exposured chest. Designing you, as Fred let his tongue do any talking he had left.

You enjoyed the sensual, and slow, pace. Made you fall into the mood far easier. But, you knew why they were being so gentle. Gentle starts always ended with you drooling and utterly delirious. They were going to destroy you, to your core, and that had you so hopeful.

“Just look at you.” They breathed, in unison, as you were just a doll in their hands. Your body leaning into Fred’s, with his legs spread to make sure you were comfortable. Meanwhile George was above you, on his knees, and taking in the sight. Just starving for you, while Fred was busy with the bedside table. Making sure to grab some lube, as you realized what you signed up for.

“Don’t say I never treat you.” That had them laugh, at your comment. Sweet little feathery kisses were given to your face, and neck, while the line was passed to each other. Slicking themselves up, before using the residue to make sure you were nice and comfortable. A thank you, for such a wonderful present.

“Wrapped up in such a pretty bow.” Fred sighed, as he stuck two fingers inside of you. That had you bite your lip, before the mimicking motion from George made it slip out. Fred was in your ass, and George was in your core. Able to copy each other’s movements in perfect unison. Some call it disturbing, you call it heaven.

“Damn, wet as hell. Don’t even need lube. We’re so excited to get to be our gift, weren’t you? Isn’t that sweet Fred-?” “Oh the ever sweetest George. We love it when you get excited. Gets us excited.” They echoed each other, while making sure to lather as much as they could. Knowing you would need it, and still remembering to put your needs first. Just gentle motions, as they made sure to cover as much as two fingers could. Teasing away at your sensitive spots, just to make you squirm.

“I can’t wait any more.” “Couldn’t have said it better myself.” And like that, the fingers were removed. You whined at it, which made them smirk. Now, you were feeling them pressed against you. They planned to go in, at the exact same time. It made your heart race. To imagine, being stuffed so quickly.

“How about we-“ But they broke through the tight barrier, and your mind was mush. Not so much from pain, just the over whelming sensation of being so full. To feel your insides grow so tight, as your muscles were being pulled yet pushed at the same time. Was a fluttery experience. Somehow so light, yet couldn’t be heavier.

“Fuck fuck fuck-“ You heard Fred whisper into your ear, while your blurry eyes could make out that George was hardly able to keep his own open. Biting into his stained lip, as to not whimper too early. To last, but damn. You knew he was fighting for his life.

Once they were both fully inside, the three of you just stayed that way. A mixture of wanting to make sure you were adjusted, and them not wanting to end the game so soon. How embarrassing that would be. Least that meant you were being pampered. With heavy breathing, and wet kisses on your skin. A means to help you relax, and it worked.

“Lucky me, I get to be the first one to pump you full. Isn’t that nice of Fred? To let me be the one to pump your little womb full?” That had your face burn. Yeah, you three were trying, but none of you exactly went into to much details on how such a thing would plan out. Given Magic was involved, with everything, isn’t a dumb guess to think these two will somehow knock you up at the same time. Just made you all the more flushed, as Fred would rub over your stomach.

“Don’t worry. When he’s done with you, we will switch. I can’t just waste it all in your ass. I love that cute thing, but I love you being full of out kids more.” Fred moaned, as he finally moved his hips. Just in time with George’s. The feeling of two at once, in different holes. Truly a fuzzy experience.

Your hands found George’s shoulders, while Fred grabbed your legs. Keeping you spread as wide as they could, as they rocked their hips into you. Such perfect calculations to make sure your mind stayed in that blissful fuzz. Was leaving you with your nails into Georges skin.

“Come on, love. You gotta moan louder for me. I’m missing an ear over here. Give me some noise-!” George cackled, as Fred took that as a que to pick up the pace. Your head was rolling itself back, and leaned on Fred’s shoulder. Giving George exactly what he wanted, after all. Louder moans, whimpers, gasps, and plenty of smacking flesh to fill in between.

“So cock drunk, and the night hardly started.” Fred teases, as he bit into your shoulder. Needing to steady himself, but the feeling was too much. George would have agreed, if it were vocal. They were getting sloppy with their movements, and you wouldn’t last long either. Especially since George was now planting sloppy kisses against your lips. Leaving you two a jumble mess of spit and moans.

Hearing their desperate breaths, and whimpers of trying to hold on, it was what brought you over the edge. By proxy, your tightening grip in your body had them gasp. Their hips stuttering, as they came inside of you. Throbbing, and having a shake in their system.

Riding it out was such a warm feeling. Felt like everything was on fire, in all the best ways. Already so exhausted, and ready to just sleep, but….They weren’t making any April fools joke with you. Just as your eyes closed, they moved.

You have a squeak, before a breathy moan, as they pulled out. Left such a mess between all your legs, before you were flipped around. Your hands now on Fred’s chest, and ass presented to George. Out right lining up again.

“Perk-A-Boo~!” Fred teases, as he poked your nose. Just as you wiggled it, they thrusted right back into you. The stimulation of being restuffed was mind melting. Right after your high, and with so much already running down your legs. The sounds of all made were so loud, and wet. Was utterly thrilling.

Fred was happy to drink in your moans, hogging as many kisses as he could. Meanwhile George was happily feeling over your hips. Letting those hard working hands trace the lipstick marks shared between them both.

“Don’t do poor Georgie like that, come on. You gotta moan a little louder. His hearing isn’t so good.” Fred would tease, as he forced your chin up. Trying to amplify your desperate sounds. It was all too much. You were going to reach your peak again, with tears running down your face. Smearing away the remains of your makeup.

“Just hang on a little more. I want to make sure I get nice and deep in there.” Fred comforted, as George planted kisses down your back. Making sure your skin was covered in whatever remained of their lips.

Everything was so blurry, but you knew this. You came again, and your insides were coated once more. The ringing in your ears were dancing with the shakey moans of your lovers. So happy, and satisfied, with wrecking you so much.

When you came back to reality, you realized the lingerie you wore was gone. Seems they made sure to give you a sponge bath, before they were knocked out. You between them, as they snuggled you.

Fred behind you, as he held your stomach. Ever a man that loved feeling your ass against him. Meanwhile George was infront of you, tangling your legs together, as he snuck his arms just above Fred’s. His face under your chin, so he could listen to your heart beat.

“Happy birthday, you two.” You whispered, as you made sure they both were kissed on their heads. Freckled smiles crossed their lips, as they snuggled closer. Fred, enjoying his nose in your neck, while George gave you a squeeze. Maybe you should gift wrap yourself more often.

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ravenelyx · 1 year

Text

I love you in every timeline - Prologue: In Search of Lost Time

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x Fem!Reader

Words: 1.9k

Chapter Warnings: angst if you squint, Harry Potter characters appearance, no name appearance (not even y/n dw), some swearing, use of 2nd person for the reader (I know I know but I promise it makes sense for the story)

Summary: "He turned around, and the world seemed to stop around him. She had followed him: into another timeline, into another universe.". In which Sebastian, in his search for a cure in the Dark Arts, finds himself 100 years into the future and meets his most trusted companion's descendant (who looks far too similar to the girl he was once secretly in love with).

A/N: this is the first english fic I've written, so I'm terrified. Anyway, Trimetravel! AU with Sebastian Sallow. Some background info: Reader is not MC; Reader is a Gryffindor, MC was a Slytherin; MC was a Pureblood, Reader is a Muggle Born. Also, english is not my first language so if you find any mistakes, I deeply apologise. Not proof-read (for obvious reasons).

→ Find the rest of the fanfiction here on AO3 :)

"For we are not as faithful to the being we have most loved as we are to ourselves and sooner or later we forget her — since that is one of our characteristics — so as to start loving another." - Marcel Proust, In Search of Lost Time

If a chasm had opened under Sebastian's feet and swallowed him all the way to the depths of hell, he would have gladly accepted his demise there and then.

Unfortunately, its mercy seemed to be out of business that day — or any other day in his life, really.

Sebastian paced the corridors, a frown adorning his face; he had just come out of the Headmaster's office due to the absolute disaster that had occurred to him just a few hours prior.

After weeks of research, he had finally found something that could help him, a breakthrough with which he could finally achieve his goal. An artefact so powerful that it could break the fabric of time and space, something that could help his poor sister live a happy and healthy life again. He did not care that they were not on speaking terms at the moment: he would find a way to talk to her so that she would take this last chance. He would force her if he had to. It was his last hope, and Merlin knows he had tried everything.

If he had known about the artefact's effects earlier, he would have thought twice before using it.

"So, Mr Sallow, could you be so kind as to tell us how you came to be in our time?" the Headmaster, who had earlier introduced himself as Albus Dumbledore, had asked him.

Truth was that not having stopped dwelling with the Dark Arts in search of a cure for Anne had led him to find himself in another timeline instead. His face twitched: in terms of unlikelihood, the scales seemed pretty unbalanced.

It had been a brief conversation, really, with Sebastian omitting some details (like his friendship with an Ancient Magic wielder or the murder of his uncle, for which he bore full responsibility) and grimacing against his own will when the Headmaster had looked at him through his half-moon shaped glasses as if asking him, 'Why are you lying to me?'

He had pushed the thoughts away as quickly as they had come: it wasn't like he could read his mind... or could he?

Sebastian breathed a sigh of relief when the Headmaster had dismissed him after giving him specific instructions on how to behave until they found a way to return him to his timeline — one of which was, "Please don't inform anyone of your condition unless it's absolutely necessary." That had seemed quite reasonable to him, so he nodded.

The artefact was damaged, as expected, and unlikely to work again unless a powerful form of magic came into contact with it and repaired it: something like Ancient Magic, perhaps, or a miracle.

"I see you're still causing trouble everywhere you fare, aren't you, Mr Sallow?" the familiar voice of Phineas Nigellus Black had mocked from his portrait, effectively startling him. Sebastian had looked up and into the eyes of his old Headmaster, his mouth falling open at the sight of him. He looked old, weary, and angrier somehow — yet, in a way, he had brought Sebastian some form of comfort, almost. A sense of familiarity.

Before he could have said anything, Black had disappeared, and a woman with severe blue eyes and long robes had escorted him out of the office.

Sebastian looked around at his familiar surroundings, which would have been almost comforting if not for the nameless faces looking at him with curiosity: Hogwarts students tended to recognise each other effortlessly, and anyone who didn't fit into that bundle of familiarity was to be ostracised. He remembered all too well when he was the one helping the new fifth-year find her way around those same corridors, except he didn't need guidance: this was his home, after all.

But he did have a guide, and she wasn't as charming a student as he was either.

The Head of the Gryffindor House walked right next to him, a stern expression on her face made even more prominent by the shadow of her large witch hat. The woman Sebastian had come to know as Minerva McGonagall was also the Transfiguration teacher and Deputy Headmistress, at least it seemed that way, which was no doubt why she was accompanying him rather than the Head of his own House.

Sebastian decided not to ask himself any questions and do what the Headmaster told him to: attend class, fit in, and pretend to be either a transfer student or someone with a complex background — he hadn't decided which story to tell yet (and both, in a way or another, would be true).

The clacking of Professor McGonagall's shoes stopped so abruptly that he almost would have missed it if she hadn't started speaking.

"You're about to meet two of your new classmates. Prefects of the Gryffindor House." She raised her left arm in their direction, and his eyes followed it to two red and gold robes leading into warm faces.

"I am pleased to introduce you to Ms Hermione Granger—" she gestured to the girl with curly hair to her left, who wore a friendly smile all while maintaining a serious and clean look, "—and Mr Ronald Weasley." Sebastian's eyes shot to the boy to his right when he heard the familiar name, and to be honest, he might not have needed an introduction at all: the red-haired boy gave him a wry smile, his freckles standing out even more in the natural light. He would have recognised those features anywhere.

Finally, Sebastian noticed their uniforms. He didn't pay much attention to the boy's — he himself also wore a very similar one, uncomfortable and informal as it seemed to him — for his eyes were fixed on the girl's. She was wearing a grey cardigan with red and gold trim, the colours of her House, and her skirt was much shorter than he remembered, with black denier tights covering the rest of her legs. Sebastian felt himself blushing slightly and averted his eyes.

He wondered why the Slytherin prefects were unsuited to the situation: at the end of the day, he was a Slytherin, too. Sebastian didn't undergo the Sorting again — the Professors didn't seem to deem it necessary, not to mention the Hat had recognised him from his shelf, too. He didn’t forget easily.

McGonagall turned back to Sebastian and briefly adjusted his robes, her face softening slightly, "For the time being, it is best if you don't draw attention to yourself. We will find a solution," she straightened her posture and nodded at him, "Welcome to Hogwarts." She turned on her heels and walked away, leaving him with the two Gryffindors.

He studied their faces for a moment, searching for the right words to say, deciding on which story to tell, but the only thing he could muster was: "How come you're Gryffindors?"

The two students stared at him, appalled, and he mentally slapped himself. He wanted to correct his statement and explain his intention, but the girl stopped him before he could even form a coherent thought.

"You're wondering why they asked us to guide you and not the Slytherin Prefects, am I right?"

Either his question wasn't that unclear, or the girl had excellent deduction skills, and judging by the epiphany on the other boy's face when he understood the meaning of her words, it was most likely the latter.

Sebastian sighed inwardly and nodded, mentally promising not to stumble over his words again.

The boy — Ronald, Sebastian recalled — chimed in: "Because otherwise you'd have to deal with Malfoy, and he's an idio—" the girl slapped him on the arm and gave him a warning look before turning back to Sebastian.

Malfoy, Sebastian thought. A family of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. It was clear why a Weasley would want nothing to do with him.

Sebastian wondered if they still held the same values as in his day: if the Malfoys were still blood maniacs, and so was the person they spoke of, or if he wanted to distance himself from his family as Ominis did. Judging by Ronald's opinion of him, Sebastian did not think that was possible, but then again, he did not know the fellow. Maybe, Sebastian thought, things had moved on after a century: no blood wars, discrimination or superiority complexes. Perhaps this was all just a simple rivalry between two students from different Houses.

"Professor Dumbledore thought us to be best suited for this difficult situation. No other student but us knows about your... misadventure," said Hermione.

To call it a "misadventure" would be an understatement , Sebastian wanted to say. As it turned out, however, he didn't need a story to tell. He didn't know whether to feel betrayed by the Professors who had decided to disclose that information or relieved that he didn't have to go through it all alone. A beat of silence followed, in which Sebastian could only nod at the girl's words, and then it was interrupted abruptly.

"Where have you been?" called a voice from the end of the corridor, directly behind Sebastian.

He turned around, and the world seemed to stop around him.

He definitely didn't have to go through it all alone because there she was. Standing a few feet away from him, looking straight at him, was the person who had accompanied him on all his adventures.

She had followed him: into another timeline, into another universe.

He felt his lips twist into a grin, and he beamed at the sight of her. Had she been looking for him?

He frowned a little as he noticed her expression: she seemed annoyed, almost angry. Perhaps she had no intention of following him and had just ended up here for no reason? Were the two of them connected on a deeper level than he thought? Or perhaps she was just worried for him and angry he didn't look for her too?

The girl started to walk towards them, and his smile widened even more the closer she got.

She was almost there when he realised she wasn't sparing him a glance.

Instead, her eyes were focused on the red-haired boy next to him, who was staring at her in horror, looking completely terrified.

Sebastian looked back at the girl, finally noticing the red and gold tie around her neck where a green and silver one usually belonged, a crease in her eyebrows that wasn't there before, and her eyes were a different colour than he remembered.

What the hell is going on here? he thought, staring at her wide-eyed.

"Ron, for God's sake, I've been looking all over for you! Do you intend to give me back my book before class starts, or should I pull a new one out of a hat because you can't use your own?" she threw her hands in the air disapprovingly.

Ron stuttered briefly before hesitantly pointing at the Slytherin boy next to him, "I've just had too much to do. Prefect stuff, you know."

The girl scowled at him before turning to the said boy, her eyes softening slightly. "Oh! You're the new fifth-year!"

Sebastian's eye twitched. How bloody ironic.

"I'm Sebastian Sallow," he replied feebly, body stock-still like marble.

"Nice to meet you," she smiled politely.

And then she introduced herself.

His breath caught in his throat. Sebastian could have recognised that surname anywhere, but her name fell completely deaf on his ears.

You weren't her.

→ Chapter 1

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writersblockedx · 1 year

Text

The Muggle Mixtape

Pairing - Mattheo Riddle x Fem!Reader Summary - In an attempt to get her friends into muggle music, Y/n makes a mixtape for Mattheo. He ends up liking it more than expected. Warnings - Slight mention of a hangover/drinking Words - 1.9K

A/n - This is my first time writing for Mattheo so I hope it’s alright <3

Masterlist

Mattheo didn't think much of muggle culture. He studied parts of it in muggle studies but he found such lesson dragged and he struggled to even keep his eyes open. Safe to say, he wasn't one to explore out of the confines of Wizards and their impeccable inventions. Through Y/n's eyes, he was sufficiently deprived of muggle luxuries. And maybe he wasn't all that bothered about finding out more, but Y/n knew that he had know idea what he was missing out on.

Coming from a family which was half muggle, half magical, she had dashes of muggle music and tv and film littered into her day-to-day. She was amazed by the stories and the lyrics which they constructed ever so seamlessly. The girl wanted nothing more than to spread that amazement.

"I swear if that is the same mixtape you had on all last week-" Pansy had whined as Y/n leaned over to the stereo to change the music to her own.

Y/n pushed a few buttons before There she Goes by The La's started to lull through the Slytherin common room. "No, don't worry. New mixtape, new songs." She assured Pansy, returning to her potions homework she had forgotten about until this morning.

"I don't understand it." Mattheo spoke up with a curious speck in his pupils. He leaned over and grabbed the casing of the mixtape where Y/n had handwritten each of the song titles and their respected artist. "Why muggle music?" His eyes began to scan the words, finding himself more confused than he had been prior.

"Because it's amazing. Are you listening to this right now?" The girl gestured back to the stereo which was still playing.

Mattheo shrugged and handed the cover back over, "It's alright. It's really nothing special, don't see why you get so worked up over it." He told her, honestly.

It was then, when the girl glanced to him, that an idea popped into mind. Well, more like a bet she had silently made with herself: she would make sure that by the end of the school year, Mattheo would finally admit to liking muggle music.

As it was currently October, it gave Y/n a good few months to successfully mould this plan on her's into place. She was certainly aware of his lack of knowledge when it came to anything muggle related. Any type of their media he acted completely apathetic towards. It was her challenge to try and change that.

She started by simply adjusting her mixtapes slightly to songs which she believed would suit Mattheo more. He would squirm at anything played by Blur, but seemed to ease whenever The Cure came on. She started collecting a list of what bands and artists he seemed to enjoy. By the start of Decemeber, it looked a little something like this: - The Cure - Nirvana (Lithium especially) - Sometimes Radiohead

They had been setting up for the annual Christmas Slytherin party when the boy pipped up all of a sudden and asked, "What's this song again, Y/n?" He had been in the midst of setting up lights, while the girl was pilling in several drinks. Mattheo had, in fact, never heard this song before. Though, his voiced opinion was one which helped Y/n in her data collection.

She looked to him, a cheeky glint in her eyes which she attempted to suppress, "Rock the Casbah. It's The Clash." She informed.

He nodded and went to return to what he had been doing. Though, before he was able to do so, Y/n was skipping over with a twisting smile at her lips. "Well?" She urged with raised brows.

He was looking down at her, finding her smile infectious. "Well, what?" He had chuckled.

She swayed on her feet, "Are you going to admit it?" There was a mischievous smirk written into her lips which he didn't dare break.

So Mattheo shrugged, "Admit what?"

The girl nudged his shoulder with her own, that smirk failing to ever disappear, "That maybe, you might just like my muggle music?" The cheeky glint in her pupil shimmered.

"I wouldn't say that I like it." Said the boy, "But it's tolerable." He did like it. In fact, Mattheo craved every moment when Y/n decided to play one of her many mixtapes. But he would refuse to admit it because, the second he did, Y/n would stop doing all in her power to convince him that he did. He didn't want her to stop; He just wanted every moment he could with her.

They left Hogwarts the morning after. Many were nursing headaches, trying to put on brave faces for the parents as they stepped onto the train platform. It was flooded with students, wrapped in their family's embrace and happily welcomed Christmas. Woven through all that, was Y/n, who had a badly wrapped gift tucked under her arm.

She slipped through the many crowds of witches and wizards as she tracked Mattheo. "Mattheo!" The girl had yelled over the loud noise of the station. "Mattheo!"

He looked back, brows knitted, unsure if he had heard it correctly. When his gaze found Y/n, he eased into a smile and the two met in the middle. Surrounded by chaos and screaming children, it felt like it were just the two of them. "Come to kiss me goodbye?" He tilted his head and wiggled his brows.

Y/n chose to dismiss his comment as she retrieved the gift, "Here," She passed it over to him.

"Since when were we on gift-giving status?" He questioned, his smug exterior having instantly fallen.

She shrugged and urged him on, giddy in her movements, "Just open it!" She exclaimed.

With a growing smile, he slipped his finger tips between the wrapping paper, revealing a mixtape. Just like Y/n's own ones: noted with song titles and artists, with several added doodles Mattheo secretly adored. "Oh wow," He commented, "My own muggle mixtape."

"I mean, I couldn't let you go the holidays without having anything decent to listen to." She told him. "Maybe you'll find this stuff more tolerable."

He nodded to himself, "Thanks, Y/n." He said before taking her into a hug. They said their goodbyes and like that, went opposite ways to their own families.

Mattheo hadn't listened to the mixtape until Christmas eve. He had stared at it every now and again, twisting the mix tape between his fingertips every now and again. But he never seemed to have the courage to listen to the songs that the girl had hand-picked for his ears. Had it been anyone else who had given him a gift, he was likely to have tossed it to one side and forget about its existence. But this gift had come from Y/n and it was gift of which was made by hand, not one from Hogsmeade, but one of which she had laboured at for a few days trying to get perfect.

And, as Christmas eve night drew into a close, he picked up the mix tape. He inspected it as he had done before and read through some of the titles: Back to the old house by The Smiths was the first song. His interest suddenly peaked. He clipped in a pair of headphones, pushing his hair back as they fitted over his head. Soon enough, the song started to play and all his thoughts were consumed by one person: Y/n.

Mattheo wasn't one to admit when he was wrong, but he supposed if he was admitting that Y/n was right, then maybe it wasn't too bad. The music which happened to be made by muggles, was decent at that. The mixtape made for him, even better. He just wasn't sure how he was going to tell Y/n that without making himself out to be an idiot.

By the time they had returned in January, he was still struggling to find the words to explain such to Y/n. Suddenly, he was questioning why he was finding it so difficult to talk to her - why he was overthinking this, or why he cared so much over how she might react. She was just a girl; a girl who liked muggle music and drew stupid doodles. Unless, of course-

"So?" They had only just returned to the common room when Y/n lept into the boy's gaze. She had her familiar wide eyes as she joined his side. "What did you think?"

He put on an act, thinking hard as if he wasn't sure what she was referring to. "Oh, yeah, your stupid muggle mixtape!" He joked, resulting in a playful nudge to his shoulder.

"It's not stupid!" She argued. A moment passed and Y/n watched him carefully, "Well? You liked it didn't you!"

"Tolerated it!" He corrected before she was able to get any ideas.

But she hummed as Mattheo threw himself onto one of the leather sofas. "Which was your favourite?" She inquired as her cheeky glint returned in her pupils.

Mattheo answered by pulling out the mixtape from his robe pocket. Something of which had been unexpected from Y/n. She was happy he had listened to it, but even that she hadn't been sure the boy would be so bothered to actually do. He read through the track list once again. "This one," He read. "Love will tear us apart." He looked over the mixtape as his gaze settled on Y/n. He would pretend as if he had hardly a care for it, pretend as if he hadn't listened to said song repeatedly over the course of the Christmas holidays.

A smile graced the girl's lips, "Ah," She had said. "It's very you." She commented before wandering towards him and gesturing for him to throw the mixtape over to her. Confused, Mattheo did it so and watched as she took it over to the stereo.

She switched a few buttons and said song was beginning to play through the common room. There were only a few people dotted around at this time, no one who cared enough to pay much attention to either of them. Most students were hurrying around in their dorm room to get ready for the Gryfinndor party. Y/n wandered back over to Mattheo who was unintentionally starring at her in awe. "Well come on then," She offered him her hand.

He raised a brow but didn't move a finger, "I'm sorry?"

"It's your favourite muggle song, you at least have to dance to it." She told him. He stared a little longer before he interlocked his hand with hers.

She tugged him gently from the sofa. Though, no dancing ever occurred. Rather, a long moment passed in which neither of them made a move. Then the chorus hit and Mattheo found himself leaning in so far until their lips met. It was soft and sweet; a kiss to sound of Joy Division.

It wasn't long after that shared moment, brought together by an angsty song, that they became an official couple. A relationship filled with more muggle music that Y/n shred with him and Mattheo still struggled to admit that he truly enjoyed.

They were laid in his dorm room one day, Just like Heaven by The Cure playing in the background. He was finishing some potions homework while Y/n flicked through a book that had been a gift from the muggle side of the her family: The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde. A thought passed through a mind. One of which was loud enough to pull her from the pages she had been reading.

She looked to her boyfriend and simply asked, "Have you ever read muggle literature?"

And like that, Y/n had a brand new mission: get Mattheo to like muggle literature.

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