#hogwarts

[justagirlobsessedwithwizards]

regulus black in animagus form will definitely knock things off of desks to get james’s attention

[daddiesdrarryy]

Harry: You’re a red flag, Draco

Draco: I am not a red flag. I told you what’s wrong with me, so that makes me a caution sign at best

[myfeetrcolddd]

Boundaries? Never heard of them.

Growing up with Theo had desensitized you to things, like how he was always holding your hand, or how he insisted on cuddling anytime you were to sit down on a couch together, or how he would kiss you on the cheek hello or goodbye, except the kiss was hardly on your cheek and right at the corner of your mouth.

Sure, you were aware how the relationship between the two of you was not the average one of two best friends, but you didn't really mind it. You had gotten used to it, it felt weird to even think about things between the both of you being any different.

It was only when Theo got a girlfriend did you realize things would have to change, much to your dismay, and to Theo's too apparently.

"What'd you mean I can't hold your hand anymore?" Theodore looked taken nearly offended as he said those words, his face twisting in confusion and distaste.

"Theo, you have a girlfriend now." You say, wrapping your arms around your middle uncomfortably. "We can't just hold hands all the time, or at all."

He scoffed and rolled his eyes, "Next thing I know you're going to tell me we can't cuddle during movie nights or when I sleep over."

"That's exactly what I'm trying to tell you!" You exclaim, tired from having to reiterate the same thing over and over. "And from now on we shouldn't even be sleeping in the same bed at sleep overs, if your girlfriend would even be comfortable with us having sleepovers"

"You're being ridiculous, Angel, I'm sure she wouldn't mind."

"I'm being serious, Theo, I'm setting boundaries now that you've got a girlfriend, and another thing on that list is calling me Angel." Theodore frowned harder(if that was even possible) looking taken aback by your words and down right offended.

"Boundaries? Not calling you a name I've called you since we were kids?" Theo took a step closer, which was really a problem since he had already been to close to begin with. Now he towered over you more than usual, bringing his hands up he rested them on your neck, his thumbs coming up over your jaw as he held your face close to his. His eyes were narrowed and scanning your face as though looking for something, "Has someone casted a charm on you? Maybe some potion. Either way, you're being weird and I don't like it."

"I'm being weird?! I'm not being weird!" You insisted, and you knew you should shove his hands off you, push him away or take a step back...but you couldn't bring yourself to do it. You'd always liked his touch much more than a friend should. "Y-you're the weird one! Thinking we could continue as we are while you have a girlfriend."

"Why would we change anything?" He asked, as though he was truly confused. "I like the way things are between us."

"Well I can't imagine your girlfriend likes the way things are. I'm sure that if I had a boyfriend he wouldn't like how things are." You had mumbled the last part under your breath, an after thought to your previous sentence, still Theo heard it and his confusion and annoyance turned to something darker.

"Boyfriend?" He questioned, his voice low and more gravely that usual. "What's you having a boyfriend got to do with anything? You, you don't have one do you? No boy here is good enough for you, and I wouldn't change my ways for some sleaze like him."

Theos words had been harsh, a sharp edge to them as he spoke, he'd never spoken like that before, at least not to you. It was odd, he seemed mad at the thought of you having a boyfriend, outraged even, the emotions just simmering beneath the surface.

"No, Theo, I don't have a boyfriend," He looked to deflate a little at this, relaxing slightly, "It's not like I could have gotten one anyway, everyone thought we were dating from the way we acted, and it didn't help that you practically growled at any guy that would try to come up to me." You scoff, annoyed but Theo seemed the opposite, his lips quirking up in a small smirk.

"Was that so bad though? It's not like any of them were good enough for your attention anyways." His hands slid from your neck down to your waist as he seemed to pull you closer.

"Look, we're getting off track. We need to set some boundaries." You press your hands against his chest and push him off you gently, he seems to allow this and walks back a few steps before taking a seat on the edge of your bed and staring up at you. You blushed slightly from the way he was looking at you.

Theo groaned and rolled his eyes, "I still don't see why we need those."

"Because you have a girlfriend for crying out loud!" You say, exasperated form having to repeat yourself, "How would you feel if your girlfriend, the girl you like, had a friend that was overly touchy and clingy and borderline cheating on you with him?"

This seemed to stump him, "The girl I like?" He muttered to himself, then his eyes trailed back to you and his jaw clenched. "No...no I wouldn't like that at all."

"See! That's what I mean. That's likely what your girlfriend is feeling about how we are with each other." But Theo didn't seem like he was really listening at this point.

Inside his head, a switch had flipped for him and he realized something. His eyes widening, lips parting, and cheeks heating up slightly and he turned to look up at you through his eye lashes.

"Shit." He murmured, staring at you and his pupils seemed to dilate. It was like he was seeing you in a whole new light, you were as beautiful as you ever were, the same angel he thought you were all those years ago, but now he realized it was so much more than looked with you. And he was stupid to think this was how best friends were with each other.

Really, could he be any more daft? Standing up, he stalked towards you, like a predator hunting it's prey. He didn't stop until he was closer than before, his hands cradling your head on each side and pulling you close.

His face was right above yours, your noses nearly touching and your breaths mingling. "I'm an idiot." He muttered, his eyes getting lost in yours. "A stupid and blind idiot." His forehead dropped down to yours and he closed his eyes. "And I'm sorry."

Before you could register what was going on his lips were on yours, his hands holding your head tightly against his as he kissed you. You had tried your best not to give in, but you couldn't help yourself because it was the one boy you had liked all your life, finally kissing you, and like his life depended on it at that.

So, you kissed him back, arms twining around his neck and bringing him impossibly closer. One of your hands threaded through the hair on the back of his head and you gripped it tightly and he groaned before kissing you harder.

Then, as fast as it had begun, it ended. He pulled away, cheeks blotchy and red and pupils so big you could hardly see the blue green color of his eyes. "I'm going to fix this. Then I'll be right back." He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, "Don't leave." And then another kiss and then he was gone, your dorm door slamming shut behind him as you stood in stunned silence.

A hand lifted to your face and I gently touched your lips, you were sure you looked like a tomato, and your mind was reeling. That wasn't how things were supposed to go...at all.

[lexamiele]

Romance Languages

Middle image from mewwons on Pinterest here, others mine

Theodore Nott x Reader

Word count: approx. 4.5k

Summary: You and Theodore Nott have a little weekly ritual that you’ve always enjoyed. There’s definitely not any meaning to it, no matter what Pansy Parkinson says.

Warnings/be aware: she/her reader, Ravenclaw reader, Italian!Theo, google translate Italian, use of Y/N, slight time skip, fluff fluff fluffiest fluff

A/N: This is so cheesy and fun, I had an amazing time writing it.

There are some places where I didn't translate the Italian for the sake of not spoiling the story, but all will be clear in good time :)

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There was a sort of rhythm to your Fridays at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry that you’d become quite fond of as a sixth-year.

            First, you had Transfiguration, one of the most difficult classes on your schedule (rivaled only by Ancient Runes), but also one of the most rewarding. Then you had Care of Magical Creatures with Hagrid, another course you enjoyed. You loved being able to get outside during the day and interact with the creatures of the forest while learning more about them. After lunch was your final class of the day and your absolute favorite, double Charms. Professor Flitwick was your Head of House and one of the kindest people you knew. The two of you had bonded during your first year when you’d been bullied by some third-years and he’d been a mentor to you ever since. You'd also grown to become a strong student of the subject itself. At the end of the previous year, you’d scored an O on your Charms OWL and when you’d returned to the class for your NEWT level, he’d quietly let you know that you’d earned one of the highest scores in your year. The Charms classroom was your comfort zone, your favorite place to retreat to after a long day.

            You also enjoyed your last class of the day because many of your friends had decided to take NEWT Charms as well. Each day, you sat next to your best friend, Padma Patil, and in front of two Slytherin girls who were quickly growing on you, Pansy Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass. Though the Slytherins usually kept to themselves, you and Pansy had bonded after being named Potions partners the previous year and remained friends, sharing notes for your classes and the occasional tidbits about Hogwarts romances and parties. Pansy's approval had been enough to persuade Daphne of your likeability, and you'd made another friend.

            After greeting Professor Flitwick and setting your books down near Padma, Pansy, and Daphne, you came to the next part of your Friday routine. Theo Nott, a dark-haired popular boy with an angular face and mischievous eyes, approached your desk as usual. He was the dream guy of half the Hogwarts population, and you could see why. Though you’d never admit it, his attention definitely made you a little flustered.

            “Buon pomeriggio, belissima.” He wore a confident little smirk as you giggled, your afternoon ritual familiar.

            “Hi, Theo.” You smiled at him and he winked before returning to his seat near the back of the classroom with the other boys from Slytherin. Before every Charms class since the end of the previous year, Theo Nott had greeted you by saying something random in Italian. You had no clue what any of it meant or how it had started, but you weren’t complaining. The first time you’d encountered Theo outside of sharing classes with the Slytherins was when you and Pansy had started hanging out together. The two of you had a few conversations about Quidditch and music, and you were able to detect his southern European accent, but you’d never known that he could speak Italian until one random day in fifth-year Charms when he’d approached you before class.

            “Vorresti venire a cena con me?” Theo murmured. His eyes were oddly soft – he looked more gentle than you’d ever seen him.

            You laughed. “What the heck does that mean?” His subtle expression quickly became a smirk, his eyes sparkling.

            “That’s for me to know, and you to, well…” He strode back over to the other side of the classroom, as elusive as ever.

            It became a pattern between the two of you, him greeting you with some random phrase in a language you didn’t understand and you laughing it off, saying hello to him in English. You’d wondered if he would stop after the end of your fifth year, but when he’d spotted you in NEWT Charms, he’d immediately resumed the ritual. You were glad, and not just because he was paying attention to you. It felt like you could see another side of him when he spoke his first language, like he was letting you in on a different part of himself.

             As you sat down after your brief conversation with Theo, Padma raised her eyebrows at you playfully.

            “Oh, hush.” You laughed, shoving her playfully as you rolled her eyes. You knew what she was going to say before she said it.

            “You’ve got to jump on that, are you kidding?” She shook her head, her thick ebony ponytail swishing back and forth behind her. “He’s so hot and you have an opening!”

            “I do not ‘have an opening,’ Padma.” You grinned exasperatedly. “Besides, you need to be quiet. You’ll only inflate his ego if he hears you.”

            “If only I had your self-restraint. If Theo Nott talked to me…”

            “If he came up to you and said a bunch of random words to you in a language you don’t understand, I’m sure you’d be just as confused as I am.”

            “What does it matter what language he’s speaking?” She threw her hands up in the air dramatically. “He’s attractive in all of them.” You sighed, laughing softly to yourself. As much as you loved Padma, she had no idea what she was talking about. Theo could have any girl he wanted, you definitely weren’t going to ‘have an opening’ with him anytime soon.

            Professor Flitwick began the lesson and you attentively followed his demonstration as he walked the class through drills of the Extinguishing Spell. You soon mastered the technique and Flitwick instructed you to walk around the classroom and help others as they sought to extinguish the fire that he’d conjured. As you finished correcting Dean Thomas’s aim, you glanced around the room and saw that Hermione had also been employed to help, along with Theo. Your eyes locked with his as he turned in your direction and you felt your face flush as you looked away quickly.

            “Impressive, bella.” He raised his eyebrows as his path crossed yours. You rolled your eyes playfully at his need to throw in a little Italian for good measure.

            “Thanks,” you replied politely. You smiled at him, though you found yourself unable to meet his eyes. Internally shaking your head at your own easily flustered nature, you walked away quickly.

            After Megan Jones’s spell backfired and her flame got a bit out of hand, Professor Flitwick brought the drills to an end and began the second half of class, a lecture on nonverbal spells theory. You and Padma split a bag of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans as the two of you took notes. The lecture was fascinating and you scarcely noticed time passing until you ran out of Every Flavor Beans. It wasn’t long before Flitwick called the class to a close and you packed up your things. As you and Padma left the classroom, the two of you fell into conversation with Pansy and Daphne, discussing the all-too public snog that Daphne had witnessed between Ron Weasley and Lavender Brown in the Astronomy corridor the evening before.

            “I didn’t even know they were seeing each other!” Padma remarked in surprise. “I feel sorry for her, honestly. Weasley’s a bore.”

            “Well, there were a lot of words for what they were doing, but ‘boring’ certainly wasn’t one of them,” Daphne drawled, grimacing. “It was so – “

            “Ciao, bella ragazza,” a deep voice interrupted. You turned to see Theo smirking at you and throwing you a nod as he walked past, keeping pace with Mattheo Riddle and Blaise Zabini next to him.

            “Bye, Theo.” You shook your head, grinning slightly as you waved to him. Turning back to the girls, you chuckled softly to yourself. “He’s ridiculous.”

            “Haven’t you ever wondered what he’s saying?” Pansy asked suddenly. You raised your eyebrows in surprise.

            “I guess. I don’t know, he’s just saying random stuff, right?” You shrugged. “Besides, I’m not sure I could figure it out if I tried. ‘Ciao’ is literally the only word I know, and Hogwarts doesn’t exactly keep a strong collection of Italian-to-English dictionaries.”

            “But Tomes and Scrolls has a languages collection,” Pansy countered. Daphne suddenly glanced at her, shooting her a look that you couldn’t decipher, and Pansy shook her head. “Tomorrow’s a Hogsmeade trip. You should take a look.” You furrowed your eyebrows.

            “Okay, I guess I will.” You wondered why she was so insistent about it – she’d never indicated that Theo’s assorted ramblings might be of importance before. But with your curiosity sparked, you resolved to stop by Tomes and Scrolls the next day.

            The next week, with a few books on Italian language safely tucked inside your trunk in Ravenclaw Tower, you listened carefully to the words coming from Theo’s mouth as Charms class began.

            “Tutti gli oceani del mondo non potrebbero rivaleggiare con la tua bellezza.” He shot you the same confident look as usual and you smiled back, repeating the phrase to yourself in your mind.

            “Good to see you too, Theo.” As soon as he returned to the back of the classroom, you hastily wrote everything you could remember in the margins of your parchment to reference later. Then you did your best to put it all out of your mind so that you could focus on the Charms lesson. Though you were sure that whatever the sentence meant would disappoint Pansy’s curiosity, you couldn’t help but feel a slightly intrigued as well.

            “Did you manage to get it down?” Padma hissed, glancing at your parchment as you labeled it for note-taking. You nodded.

            “Don’t get your hopes up, though.” You leaned over to whisper in your best friend’s ear. “It’s probably nothing interesting.” You paused, studying the foreign words. “If it turns out he’s been insulting me all this time, I’m gonna flip.”

            After Charms concluded, you returned to your dormitory and retrieved your new purchases from Tomes and Scrolls. Locating a particularly secluded section of the Ravenclaw common room, you sat down and began to flip through the books until you found a section with direct word translations. Painstakingly, you started with the first word and began to hunt for its meaning.

            “Tutti gli oceani del mondo – all the oceans of the world.” Your whispers to yourself cut through the silence as you studied the words. Why on Earth was Theo talking about oceans? Maybe the books were wrong. Nonetheless, you continued, trying to trust the process.

“Tutti gli oceani del mondo non potrebbero rivaleggiare con – all the oceans of the world could not rival.” What? You must’ve written something down wrong, you figured, because the words still didn’t make any sense together. Either that or you’d been right all along and Theo had just been talking nonsense for the heck of it. Maybe he thought it was funny. Out of curiosity, you searched for the last three words you’d written down.

La tua – together, they meant something like “your,” but didn’t help make the sentence any more coherent. What could oceans not rival you in? Doing magic? Eating popcorn? Rolling your eyes, you searched for the next word.

Bellezza – beauty. Huh.

“All the oceans of the world could not rival your beauty.” You stared at the sentence that had appeared on your parchment with wide eyes. It wasn’t an insult – far from it. It was actually one of the most lovely and poetic compliments you’d ever received, and you couldn’t help but let the sound of his voice echo in your head as he said them. Your lips parted in silent surprise.

            Your mind raced. Was this right? Were you even reading correctly? Was this some kind of joke or did he really mean…but how could he? He was one of the most handsome, popular guys in your year, there was no way he wouldn’t just ask you out if he really thought those things. Rejection wasn't exactly something he needed to worry about.

            Closing the book in front of you, you realized that there was only one person who could answer all your questions. As you stood, you took your piece of parchment in your hand and resolved to go find Pansy.

            Thankfully, locating Pansy didn’t require much searching. You found her sitting in the library, leaned back and filing her nails while Daphne studied across from her and Draco mumbled about something or other, his lip curled in distaste. She turned slowly at the sound of your approach, but the moment she saw your expression she sat up, interrupting Draco with haste.

            “Get, Malfoy.” She waved her hand in a shooing motion. Though Draco frowned, glancing at the two of you in confusion, he gathered up his books and stepped away from the table.

            “He didn’t have to leave.” You guiltily watched Draco sit down at another table by himself.

            “He did if we’re going to talk about what I think we’re going to talk about,” Pansy declared. “Can’t keep a secret to save his life.” She focused in on you, her expression intense. “Did you do your research?”

            “Did you know what he was saying all this time?”

            “I had my suspicions.” She paused as you pulled out a chair and sat down in Draco’s former spot. “What was this one, exactly?” Your cheeks turned pink as you handed her the parchment and her eyebrows shot up. Her curiosity piqued, Daphne sat down her quill and leaned over to look also.

            “Wow, Nott’s got more game than I thought,” Daphne said with a grin. She looked you up and down playfully. “You’re a lucky girl.”

            “But there’s no way he actually means that, right?” Both Pansy and Daphne met you with skeptical glances. “I mean, if he felt that way why wouldn’t he just ask me out?” Pansy laughed under her breath, shaking her head slightly before leaning towards you over the table.

            “Look.” Her focused expression held your attention. “What you have to understand is that Nott being popular is basically an accidental byproduct of him being really good at Quidditch and really hot. Objectively, of course. That’s not my arena.” She cleared her throat and you laughed softly. “He’s learned how to talk the talk when he wants to look cool – mostly thanks to Riddle’s terrible influence – but he’s actually kind of quiet. Reads a lot. He doesn’t really know how to put himself out there, and with the way that girls throw themselves at him, he’s never really had to.  That is, until...” She nodded in your direction.

            “Theo…Theo likes me?”

            “He hasn’t told me anything, but the way he looks at you?” She let out a breathy little chuckle, crossing her arms as she leaned back in her chair. “He’s down bad.” Your whole face turned warm.

            “Pans!” Daphne gave her friend a light smack on the arm. “And you call Draco a blabbermouth.”

            “What? If I don’t get this ball rolling, no one will. He was hitting on her in a language she doesn’t even understand!”

            “What should I do, though?” you interrupted. “I mean, I can’t just pretend that I still have no clue what he’s getting at.”

            "Then don't." Pansy looked you up and down frankly. "You've got all those language books now. Use your resources."

            You arrived to Charms the next Friday with a nervous flutter in your stomach, repeating unfamiliar words in your head. As you entered the classroom, you glanced around, nearly forgetting to wave to Professor Flitwick before you sat down. Theo hadn’t arrived yet, and neither had Daphne or Pansy. However, Padma was waiting for you, eyeing you excitedly. You’d filled her in on your discoveries after talking to Pansy, and she was thrilled (if not a little smug that she had, in fact, told you so).

            “Hello, gorgeous!” Your best friend greeted you, beaming as she pulled her knee up to her chest. “See, I’m doing my best Nott impression.” You shook your head lovingly.

            “Hi, Padma. I do believe you’d have to learn Italian to accomplish that effect.” You sat down, letting your bag fall to your side with a loud smack. “Merlin, Transfiguration was difficult today.”

            “Glad I dropped it!” she replied cheerfully. “Divination was cake.”

            “That’s because all you lot do in that class is stare into crystal balls and spout nonsense.”

            “That’s all Transfiguration is too!” Padma protested. “Except you actually have to remember the nonsense, and occasionally the nonsense comes back into play when you have to turn a porcupine into a pincushion.”

            “Well that’s – “ You were about to launch into your defense of Transfiguration when a deep voice interrupted you.

            “È una bellissima giornata ora che sei qui, dolcezza.” Theo Nott stepped into your field of vision, a textbook in hand, grinning down at you. Once again, you had no idea what he was saying, but you were prepared this time. Well, here goes nothing.

            “Puoi semplicemente flirtare con me in inglese, lo sai.” You smirked back at him, trying to give off an air of confidence even though you weren’t entirely sure that the words coming out of your mouth were correct. (You can flirt with me in English, you know)

            The book in his hands hit the floor with a resounding smack.

            He stared at you for what felt like an eternity. A wave of nerves began to overtake you – what if your translation was wrong? Had you accidentally said something embarrassing? Was Pansy completely wrong about the way that he felt about you? As you looked back at him, you saw that his cheeks were completely flushed. He swallowed hard, then hurried away to the back of the classroom.

            “Well, that could’ve gone better,” you whispered indirectly at Padma. You turned in hopes of having an emergency conference with Pansy and Daphne, but Professor Flitwick quickly interrupted you as he cleared his throat, signaling the start of class.

            “Good afternoon, everyone, today we’ll be continuing on with nonverbal spells theory, then spending the end of class on review.” He stepped forward and the stray book at the front of the room caught his eye. With a frown, he waved his wand and sent it flying toward its owner. You turned around reflexively and saw Theo staring in your direction as he placed his book back on his desk, still looking shaken. Hastily, you whipped back around. “Do try to keep your textbook at your own seat, Mr. Nott.” You heard a few students laugh as you withdrew your parchment and your quill from your bag.

            That day might’ve been the only day you’d ever been eager for a Charms class to end. With your thoughts an endless swirl in your mind and your stomach turning with anxiety, you could hardly concentrate on the lesson. You felt guilty, as though you were betraying your favorite professor, when you realized that you’d been utterly distracted for nearly fifteen minutes and completely lost track of the lecture. Resolving to take detailed notes to keep yourself attentive, you began to write determinedly. But even the words written by your own hand began to make little sense to you as worry consumed your focus.

            “Miss Y/L/N, can you remind us of the effect produced by the Reductor Curse?”

            You snapped back to reality at the sound of Professor Flitwick calling on you. “Um, pardon?” He frowned.

            “The Reductor Curse, Miss Y/L/N.”

            “Oh, Reducto.”

            “Right,” Professor Flitwick said slowly. “That is the incantation, but what is the effect?”

            “Oh, um, destroys solid objects.”

            “That’s correct.” He gave you one last troubled look before turning to the other side of the classroom. “And who can tell me, what is the color of the spell?” You raised your hand, hoping to assure him of your attentiveness, but he didn’t even look in your direction as he called on Lorenzo Berkshire instead.

            Finally, class concluded. You were ready to hurry out the door with the hopes of catching Theo – you needed to apologize for whatever you’d done. However, as you packed your things, you lifted your head to see Professor Flitwick standing before you.

            “Miss Y/L/N, could I speak to you for a moment?” Your stomach dropped.

            “Of course, Professor,” you replied quickly, following him to a quiet corner of the classroom as your friends left.

            “I couldn’t help but notice that you were a bit distracted in class today.” His voice was gentle and respectful, but that made you feel even guiltier to have let him down.

            “Yes, Professor. I’m so sorry, it won’t happen again.”

            “I know that it won’t, Miss Y/L/N, I know you.” He nodded solemnly. “I did not ask you to stay after class so that I could scold you. As your Head of House, I simply want to make sure that you are alright. I know that you faced some challenges in your earlier days at Hogwarts.”

            “I’m okay.” You let out a heavy breath.

            “Are you sure, Miss Y/L/N? No one trying to make your life difficult?” You shook your head.

            “No, nothing like that. Just…something didn’t go the way I planned, that’s all.”

            “Ah.” His eyes grew distant. “Yes, the best-laid plans of mice and men do often go awry, as the Muggles say. Oddly, I've found that some of my most errant plans have had the best outcomes." The warm smile on his face brought you a slight reassurance. "Do let me know if you need someone to speak with.”

            “Of course,” you affirmed with a polite smile. “Thank you, Professor.”

            “You’re very welcome. Now, best get going. I do believe that you have a friend waiting for you.” He gestured toward the back of the classroom and you turned to see Theo standing in the doorway. You froze, your heart dropping in your chest.

            “Um, right.” Smoothing your uniform skirt, you quickly attempted to regain your composure. “Great talking to you.”

            “And you as well. Have a lovely evening.”

            “You too!”

            Your heart thundered as you scooped up your school bag and walked towards the door – and Theo.

            “Um, hi.” You bit your lip worriedly as you looked up at him. “Thank you for waiting for me.”

            “Of course, bella.” He froze, seeming to catch himself in the habit. “I…did not realize that you were familiar with the Italian language.”

            You shook your head hesitantly. “Actually, that one sentence is really all I’ve got.” You saw him relax slightly. He stepped away from the doorway and you followed him out of the classroom.

            “Where’d you learn that?” His grey eyes flashed with intrigue as he looked down at you.

            “Oh, that? That was the power of Pansy Parkinson and an English-to-Italian dictionary.”

            Theo grimaced. “Parkinson! I’m going to…” He trailed off, letting out a sigh. “Meddler.”

            “I meant what I said earlier,” you began softly. “Or at least what I thought I said, anyway. You can flirt with me in English.” You glanced up at him hesitantly. “I don’t mind.”

            “English is not a very romantic language.” You blushed as he gave you a playful grin. “I apologize if I frightened you, bella.” His voice grew sincere. “It was not my best moment.”

            “I was going to say the same thing,” you admitted. “I’m sorry if I scared you, or if it was all too sudden, or – “ He interrupted you, shaking his head adamantly.

            “No, dolcezza.” He ran a shaky hand through his hair. “It was time. I should have…I should have told you long ago.”

            “Told me what?” Your eyes connected with his, stopping him in his tracks.

            “Well, if you know now, what I’ve been saying – surely you must have figured, the way I feel about you.” You froze, surprised at his candid admission.

“Well, to be honest, I still don’t understand most of it.” Theo let out a little laugh. “But the parts I figured out…Theo, that’s some of the sweetest stuff anyone has ever said to me.” You gave him a little smile and your stomach fluttered when you realized that his cheeks were turning pink. It was adorable. “Why wouldn’t you want me to know?”

“It’s so embarrassing.” He chuckled bashfully, running a hand through his hair as he looked at the ground.

            “Hey, my attempts at mastering the Italian language were pretty embarrassing.”

            “You did well, bella.” His voice was so strained that you nearly laughed out loud. You raised your eyebrows skeptically. “Okay, so that is not how you say the words. At all.” You burst into laughter and he did the same, in spite of himself. He had a beautiful laugh, deep and clear and joyful, and when it was gone you longed for more.

            “It’s okay,” you said with a giggle. “You can tell me it was bad.”

            “It was…well, it was very cute.” He looked down at you with hesitant eyes and you blushed, grinning softly. “Even though you are not so good yet.”

            “Well, maybe I’ll learn better if you tell me more about what you’ve been saying all this time.” You smiled back, nervousness fluttering in your chest.

            He let out a sigh, leaning his head back in resignation before looking back at you. “I suppose so.” He ran a hand through his hair again and you observed with amusement how his curls immediately flopped back in his face. “Well…you see, Mattheo and Blaise, they have a very unfortunate sense of humor. Last year, they decided it would be really funny to…to dare me to ask you out.”

            You shifted uncomfortably on your feet. “So – this was a dare?”

            Theo’s eyes widened. “No! I mean, yes,” he corrected, “But they dared me because…well, they could see how I felt about you. That you made me nervous. They thought it was really funny.” Your stomach flipped as your eyes met his. “I thought for a few days that I would just do it, but then I saw you, and – “ He shook his head. “So I asked you out in Italian.”

            “So that’s what you said the first time?” He nodded sheepishly. “Theo, that’s really sweet.” His eyes brightened and you realized just how close he was to you as your words got caught in your throat. “Theo?”

            “Hmm?”

            “You could always…ask me again.” You looked at him hopefully and his face split into an adorable grin as he took your hands in his. “I’m sure it would help with the language acquisition skills, after all,” you teased. He chuckled.

            “Merlin knows you need it.” Your mouth fell open in mock surprise and you shook your head playfully.

            “So rude.”

            His eyes softened as he watched you, and your heart thundered inside your chest as he ran his thumb over your knuckles, making your skin tingle as his grey gaze held you captive.

            “Vorresti venire a cena con me?” The smooth sound of his voice washed over you as you stood on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. (Will you go out to dinner with me?)

            “Si.”

[5sospenguinqueen]

Ominis: MC kissed you?

(Sebastian stares woefully out his window)

Ominis: And, you said thank you..?

Sebastian: Yes.

Ominis: Well, that was very polite of you.

(The Library)

MC: Thank you?!? What in Salazar does that mean?

Imelda: He’s stupid, MC. You should know this by now.

[redadidassneakers]

James: Reg bas never been good at telling me he loves me, have a look

James: I love you

Regulus: I didn’t know love had a sound until I heard you laugh

James: *crying* close enough

[the-colourful-witch]

🌸⚡️Alicia Spinnet⚡️🌸

I wanted to work on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, because it includes characters (mostly the girls) whom I barely see artwork of. And I wanted to put my own spin on them :) We don’t know a lot about Alicia or Katie, for instance. I literally found no more information on Alicia than ‘plays chaser on the Gryffindor team’… oh well. So I made it up! ☀️🤗

I like the idea of Alicia looking like a cinnamon roll but can actually kill you🤫

I hope you like her too!🧡 Katie is up next!

[bunniesandsilk]

[face-head-before]

https://ashley-176.msjqgwx.cn/xm/S6CQOdc

[justagirlobsessedwithwizards]

you can’t tell me that theodore nott wouldn’t whimper in bed. and trust me, he is LOUD.

he’s not afraid of anybody hearing him because he would take such pride in everyone knowing you make him feel that good.

and don’t even get me started on you riding him.

he’d have such a tight grip on your hips, no doubt leaving bruises for the next few days. his eyes rolled back as he lets out the loudest whimper.

“fuck baby.. you-ah-make me feel so fucking good..” “that’s it, just like that pretty girl” “come on, show me how bad you need to cum”

and if you start dirty talking back? he can’t even think straight, his mind all fuzzy as he sees stars. he LOVES being praised.

“you like this, pretty boy? like maki ng me feel good?” “that’s it, letting me use you so nicely”

his whimpers are sometimes so quiet you can barely hear them, and he burries his face into your neck, whimpering in your ear.

(i wanna make him feel good 😣)

[losing-it-lately]

first kiss with remus

wc: 0.7k

remus lupin x reader, yule ball fluff

You looked like heaven. So soft to touch and yet somehow untouchable in that ethereal sort of way. Maybe he’d spend the rest of his life dreaming about you standing across from him in that dress; rivulets of champagne satin draped onto your form, each curve and love handle appearing delicate to the touch. Your waist seemed to be the perfect resting spot for his hand, and your lips the perfect resting spot for his.

“Hey, you look really nice all dressed up.” The words fell on deaf ears. His eyes so fixated on your lips that he didn't recognise words, just gentle sounds that pulled a small smile onto his face. Remus was still thinking about the way that the light hit you, and your hair all fixed up, and your lips; the lips that should be on his. “Hello,” you repeated, finally garnering his attention.

“Hey,” he whispered with a gentle joy husking in the mellows of his deep voice. Remus felt like his voice had been unused for so long, left waiting patiently until he spoke to you.

“You look nice. All dressed up.”

“Thanks.” He had gotten up for a ‘smoke break’ after he caught you slipping outside in his periphery. He had quit cigarettes a month ago after hearing you lament about the smell of smoke and your childhood asthma, and if the sickly sweetness of tobacco irritated your nose and hurt your lungs, he would rather burn every cigarette in the nearby radius than keep you away from him.

“You look nice too… Lovely even.” A small smirk forming on his face. You liked his confidence, his jokes, his snark, even when it seemed like it was nonexistent. Somehow, you made all the other noise fade away, just your laughs and a large void of silence, of serenity, left.

“Remus Lupin calling me lovely!” A dramatic exclamation, something silly and joyful and light. There was no way you could have known that there were a million other things that Remus Lupin could call you: stunning, gorgeous, radiant, and maybe, one day, his. Your hands patted the front of your dress, your eyes sparkled in the light from the stars, and your lips looked so kissable. Maybe James had sparked the punch bowl, or maybe Remus was royally screwed; your smile was making his heart warm.

The silence felt long, just two people looking at each other, and then you bit your lip. You wanted to kiss him, you wanted to kiss Remus, and it was going to put you in an awkward position. He’s just an acquaintance, not even an actual friend yet, and you could ruin this potential thing by making one wrong move. Your face flushed with heat and your smile turned to a pout; you didn't know this was something he needed.

“I think someone’s calling me.” You sprung up the first step, attempting to quickly run away from the situation, but Remus pulled you back in; his arm wrapped around your elbow, warm and wanting. It brought you in too close, facing him with only inches between the two of you. He could feel your breath and smell your perfume. It was different today, probably something more expensive to celebrate the night. He wished he had used another word instead of lovely, perhaps lovable would have been right, or priceless.

“Wait.” Another whisper. You were holding your breath now. He pleaded with something ragged and desperate, “please.”

His other hand crept up to your jaw, fingers caressing your lips. You felt real under him, and soft, and smooth, and dreamy too. “Can I?”

“Yes.” He wanted to memorise the way your lips felt agreeing to him. How many times would he have to ask you for a kiss before his hands knew what your agreeance felt like; how long did you keep your lips apart, how did your breath feel on him, how high did your lips quirk up, ready for him.

He lowered his face, pausing and moving his fingers to rest on your cheek. One hand on your arm, the other holding up your head, you could feel Remus’ warmth surrounding you. Waiting with your eyes closed as he took his time trying to commit this moment to memory. Finally, his lips met yours. He would never forget this night.

[5sospenguinqueen]

MC: Are we really going to let Poppy keep that dragon?

Imelda: We kept Sallow.

[bisexualhummingbird]

Walburga Black didn't like her kids.

She tried really hard in the beginning, tried to feel something when she first held them in her arms, tried to adore the sounds of their first laughs, she tried to feel proud when they took their first steps. She tried to love them, not because she wanted to, but because she knew she was supposed to, instead all she could feel was a deep resentment. Sometimes she felt guilty about it, she truly tried her best to feel some degree of mother instinct but eventually gave up.

Walburga never truly wanted to be a mother or a wife.

She was always an ambitious person, she didn't have to beg the sorting hat to put her in Slytherin, she wanted to continue her family's legacy more than anything and the only way to do it was to marry the right man and start a family with him, her duty was to raise children while her future husband made his name in the wizarding world, she knew the only thing she had to do was prepare a male heir to continue what her husband would start; but when she was alone and could allow herself to fantasize she closed her eyes and she pictured a seat in the Wizengamot with her name on it, what she really wanted was to be someone, she craved to have influence in the wizarding world beyond her last name and knew the potential to make the Black family even more relevant than it already was laid inside of her.

In her fantasies she didn't have to suppress her political ambitions, she could be powerful and could dream of climbing her way up to the International Confederation of Wizards; instead, she was condemned to sit and watch her husband attempt to do everything she knew she could do better if she ever had the chance.

But that wasn't her place, those fantasies had to be kept a secret, she had a duty as her father's oldest daughter.

Walburga never liked Orion.

Her second cousin was five years older than her, he was a drunk who developed gambling habits the moment he turned seventeen, he frequented brothels and slept around with women even though he was engaged to Astrid Greengrass. He did things that should be considered an embarrassment to the family's name and yet everyone seemed okay turning a blind eye as long as it was kept a secret, after all he was the oldest male of all the cousins and the heir to the Black fortune. Walburga always understood that she couldn't even dream of doing half the things Orion did, disownment would be the most gentle punishment if she even dared to think about it.

Walburga was seventeen when Bahram Avery started courting her.

He was handsome, tall and smart, only a year older than her, a slytherin prefect and most importantly a pure-blood boy with the right values. They talked for the first time when she was in her sixth year and the more they engaged in conversations the more she could imagine a life with him. He was intelligent, well-spoken and one of the most beautiful boys at Hogwarts, with elegant features and a kind eyes, but none of those things were what made Walburga so drawn to him, it was the way he treated her like an equal. Her dreams and ambitions were unattainable, especially if she wanted to make her family proud, but if she had to resign herself to be nothing more than a wife maybe she wouldn't mind playing that role for Bahram.

Romanticizing the idea of being his wife wasn't difficult, he listened to her, never dismissed her thoughts and ideas or patronized her the way her family did; he recognized her as the powerful witch she was. The summer after his graduation he showed up to her house and asked her father for permission to start courting her, Pollux and Irma were pleased.

They continued to exchange letters through Walburga's seventh year, she felt relieved for being so close to making her parents proud.

Walburga had just graduated when Orion ruined everything.

The news of Astrid Greengrass ending the engagement wasn't well received by her aunt and uncle. Rumors of Orion's lack of commitment and irresponsible spending habits reached the Greengrass family, who were kind enough to quietly inform Arcturus and Melania Black of their daughter's decision to not move forward with the wedding to save them at least a little from the embarrassment breaking off an engagement implied in the pure-blood society. Mistresses weren't uncommon within pure-blood men but her cousin had been reckless enough to get caught and even the privileges of being the male heir had their limits in the Black family. Orion's carelessness was met with disapproval.

Walburga felt like her world collapsed when her parents informed her she was expected to reject Bahram.

She didn't understand why, Bahram was the perfect candidate for a husband, he met every single requirement the future head of a pure-blood family should have.

Deep down, Walburga knew Bahram was the only man she could ever grow to love and she knew he was her only hope of being close to a happy life, a small part of her wanted to go against her parents wishes but her instinct to please them was stronger, it wouldn't matter how much she begged or cried, her parents gave no explanations and she was too scared of the consequences of asking why.

A few days later she sent a letter to Bahram saying goodbye to her only chance of a happy life. Most nights, the what ifs haunted her sleep.

She tried her best to forget about him, after all her parents always knew better.

Walburga felt like throwing up when she heard the news.

She heard her parents talk about Orion's recklessness almost every day, her uncle Arcturus wasn't going to allow his heir to ruin the future of the family and she understood that in order to put an end to the talk about his failed engagement he had to get married as soon as possible, she just never thought she would be the unfortunate woman who would be doomed to be his wife.

Pollux and Irma didn't have the decency to even warn her before the engagement was announced at a dinner party, so after Arcturus stood in front of the guests and the words came out of his mouth sentencing her to a lifetime of misery, time started to move slow. It was all calculated, letting her find out at the same time as the rest of their family and friends, she didn't have a way out, she didn't have a chance to beg her parents to change their mind, her future was set in stone. Orion didn't even attempt to hide his look of disgust for the rest of the evening.

"I hope you understand this arrangement is what's best for the family" Her mother said to her once the guests left.

Walburga resented her children.

Sirius and Regulus looked a lot like Orion. While Walburga was a prisoner in Grimmauld Place, condemned to be something she never wanted to be, watching her husband live the dreams she once had while she pretended she didn't notice he smelled like another woman's perfume and dealt with his drunken outbursts like a good pure-blood wife would, the little faces of her sons were a constant reminder of the man who made her life miserable, she couldn't even escape him when he was away and maybe that was the reason she didn't feel much guilt when she lashed out at them, deep down she knew it was wrong but seeing their resemblance with Orion made it easier for her to justify herself, after all, she was just trying to fulfill her duty to raise strong pure-blood wizards like she was supposed to, she was sure some day her sons would understand just like she did.

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

A few things:

1) English isn't my first language and i tried my best, i'm sorry if there's any mistakes.

2) I hate Walburga Black, she was an abusive piece of sh1t and a pure blood supremacist, i'm not trying to justify her, i just wanted to give her a story.

3) I know Orion is supposed to be younger than her but after researching their ages and their parents ages i realized it doesn't make any sense and decided to do what i wanted and him being older makes more sense in my story.

[theodorenmyth]

OKAY HEAR ME OUT! ✋🏾😭 CURLY HAIRED M! READER THREATENING TO STRAIGHTEN HIS HAIR IF MATTHEO DOESNT STOP FIGHTING😕. Like legit mattheo adores the boy’s hair a lot, he literally likes to pull a string and go “boing!” And it’s so satisfying. it’s a funny fluff scene as literally Mattheo chases reader with a cup of water to de-straighten his hair and reader is legit just trying not to laugh while running for his life.

HOLUY FUCK I LOVE THIS SO MUCH HELLO??

───────♡───────

Tangled Promises

Pairings : Mattheo Riddle x M! Reader Summary : Mattheo Riddle adores your curly hair, finding endless joy in pulling the strands and watching them spring back. However, his frequent fights put a strain on your relationship, and you threaten to straighten your hair if he doesn't stop. Chaos ensues as he chases you around Hogwarts with a cup of water, determined to restore your curls. A/n : Enjoy (⁠・⁠∀⁠・⁠) Warnings) : Nothing! Word count : 1.4k+

Your curly hair had always been a source of fascination for Mattheo Riddle. He would often spend hours playing with your curls, pulling a strand and delighting in the way it bounced back with a satisfying "boing!" sound. It was one of the many quirks that had drawn him to you in the first place. However, his constant fighting was beginning to wear on you.

One evening, after a particularly nasty brawl in the Great Hall, you decided it was time to take drastic measures. Mattheo sat across from you, sporting a fresh bruise on his cheek and a split lip. He smirked at you, unfazed by the damage, but you had had enough.

"That's it, Mattheo. If you don't stop fighting, I'm straightening my hair," you declared, folding your arms defiantly.

Mattheo's eyes widened in horror. "You wouldn't."

"I would," you replied, your voice steady. "I’m serious. I'm tired of seeing you come back hurt all the time. If you can't stop fighting for yourself, maybe you'll stop for my curls."

His eyes widened in genuine horror. “But I love your hair,” he protested, stepping closer and tugging gently at a springy curl. “It goes boing!” He released it, watching with satisfaction as it snapped back into place. The joy in his eyes was unmistakable.

"Watch me," you said, grabbing your wand and heading towards the bathroom.

Mattheo scrambled to his feet, following you closely. "Okay, okay, wait! Let's talk about this," he pleaded, but you were already inside the bathroom, the door shut firmly behind you.

You locked the door and looked at yourself in the mirror. You knew Mattheo loved your hair, and you loved the way he loved it, but this was important. You had to get through to him somehow. With a deep breath, you cast the straightening spell, watching as your curls transformed into sleek, straight locks.

When you emerged from the bathroom, Mattheo's face fell. "No! Your curls..." he muttered, looking genuinely distressed.

"Well, maybe you'll think twice before you get into another fight," you said, trying to keep a straight face, but the look on his face was too much. You almost burst out laughing.

Mattheo, however, was on a mission. He grabbed a cup of water from the bedside table and lunged at you. "I'll just fix it with this!"

You dodged his first attempt, laughing now as you ran across the room. "You're not going to get me that easily!"

He chased you through the corridors of Hogwarts, students watching with amused expressions as Mattheo, with a cup of water in hand, tried to douse your hair. You zigzagged through the hallways, laughing so hard it was difficult to keep running.

"Stop running and let me fix your hair!" Mattheo shouted, a mixture of frustration and amusement in his voice.

"Not until you promise to stop fighting!" you called back, dodging into an empty classroom.

Mattheo followed, cornering you against a wall. "Fine, fine! I promise!" he panted, holding the cup of water threateningly.

"Do you really?" you asked, looking into his eyes.

"I swear it. Just please, let me have my curls back," he said, his voice softening.

With a satisfied grin, you nodded. "Okay, you can fix it."

Mattheo wasted no time, carefully pouring the water over your hair. Instantly, your curls began to spring back, much to his delight. He ran his fingers through your hair, pulling a strand and watching it bounce. "Boing!" he said again, smiling widely.

"See? All better now," you said, still breathless from the chase.

He cupped your face, his eyes serious now. "I really do promise, you know. No more fights. I can't risk losing your curls again."

You smiled, leaning into his touch. "Good. Because I like them too."

With that, he kissed you softly, the tension from earlier melting away. You knew it wouldn't be easy for him to stop fighting altogether, but at least he was willing to try. And if it meant keeping your curls intact, you were more than happy to give him all the motivation he needed.

As you walked back to your common room hand in hand, you couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for Mattheo. He might be stubborn and prone to trouble, but he was also sweet and caring in his own way. And as long as he kept his promise, you were willing to put up with a lot—especially if it meant more moments like this, filled with laughter and love.

───────♡───────

In the following weeks, you noticed a significant change in Mattheo's behavior. He would still get riled up, his temper flaring at the slightest provocation, but he'd catch your eye and remember his promise. More than once, you saw him clench his fists, ready to throw a punch, only to stop, take a deep breath, and walk away. His friends, initially confused, soon understood the reason behind his newfound restraint. They began to tease him, but he took it all in stride, often with a cheeky grin and a glance in your direction.

One afternoon, as you were studying in the library, Mattheo plopped down beside you, his face flushed with excitement. "Guess what?" he whispered, unable to contain his glee.

"What?" you asked, intrigued by his enthusiasm.

"I walked away from a fight today," he said, pride evident in his voice. "Some Slytherin jerk was mouthing off about you, and I almost lost it. But then I thought about your curls, and I just walked away."

You beamed at him, proud of his progress. "That's amazing, Mattheo! I'm really proud of you."

He leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "You know, I think I've found a new way to deal with my anger."

"Yeah? What's that?"

"Whenever I feel like hitting someone, I come find you instead," he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Because nothing calms me down like playing with your curls."

You laughed, feeling a warm rush of affection for him. "Well, I'm glad I can help."

───────♡───────

Days turned into weeks, and Mattheo's promise held strong. He still had his moments of frustration, but he managed to channel his energy into more productive outlets. He started training more rigorously in dueling club, focusing his aggression into controlled, skillful combat rather than reckless brawls. His professors began to notice the change, commenting on his improved discipline and control.

One evening, as you sat together in the common room, Mattheo pulled you close, his fingers twirling a strand of your hair. "You know, I never really thanked you."

"For what?" you asked, resting your head on his shoulder.

"For making me a better person," he said softly. "I don't think I would have managed to change without you."

You smiled, touched by his words. "Well, it wasn't just me. You did the hard work. I just gave you a little... motivation."

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Still, I couldn't have done it without you. And I promise, I'll keep working on it. For you, and for me."

From that day forward, Mattheo continued to make a genuine effort to avoid fights. Every time he seemed on the verge of losing his temper, you’d give him a look, and he’d remember your threat. It wasn’t just about the curls, of course. It was about knowing that someone cared enough to go to such lengths for him.

And every now and then, when he’d pull a curl and watch it spring back with a delighted "boing!", you’d smile, knowing you had found a way to protect both him and your precious curls.

One chilly evening, as you both sat by the fire in the common room, Mattheo reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers with his. "You know," he began, his voice thoughtful, "I used to think that fighting was the only way to show strength. But you've shown me that there's strength in restraint too. And in love."

You squeezed his hand, your heart swelling with affection. "I'm glad you see that now. And I'm proud of you, Mattheo. More than you know."

He smiled, a genuine, heartfelt smile that made your heart skip a beat. "I love you," he said simply.

"I love you too," you replied, leaning in to kiss him gently.

As the fire crackled and the common room filled with the soft murmur of students' conversations, you knew that this was just the beginning. Mattheo had a long road ahead of him, but you were ready to walk it with him, hand in hand. Because in the end, love was the strongest magic of all, capable of transforming even the most stubborn of hearts.

And as long as you had each other, there was nothing you couldn't overcome.