#{✦| fuck off Fred / Hermione are part of my brain now big time |✦}

[bccksmarts]

someone remind me to make a Hermione, Dramione and Fremione playlist when I get on

. . . As well as playlist for all my other ships, I can’t leave those out!!!

[xmalfoyweasleyx]

No future with a boy like this - F.W

Summary: Fred disappoints you more than once, giving you no other choice, you had to let him go.

Warnings: ANGSTY, cursing, implied sex very briefly, FLUFF AT THE END

A/N: my firsts time writing angst and I really don’t know if i was overdramatic or not enough dramatic lol please give feedback

April- 1996 - Hogwarts

Y/n was waiting on the tribune next to the quidditch field. It was already getting darker now. An orange glow spreading over the field. The sun was going down already. She was sitting there for two hours now.

She promised herself she would stop waiting after an hour but here she was, still hoping he would show up.

It was her birthday, it was her fucking birthday. And this wasn't the first time. It started with little dates, he forgot them sometimes but y/n didn't mind, he made it up every time.

He hurt her by forgetting those things all the time. But it was Fred Weasley after all. You knew this was coming when he became your boyfriend. You even got used to it. He was always busy. That's just how Fred is.

And here she was again. Trying to not let the tears of disappointment fall down on her cheeks. She felt miserable and decided to finally call it a night, going back to her dorm. She was exhausted.

Walking down the corridors, she saw Fred. He was just sitting there, laughing with George. That's when it was clear, he wasn't even late, he just forgot.

He saw her and smiled, walking her way, but she turned on her heals immediately. "Y/n!" he screamed confused. He followed her and his long legs made it easy to catch up.

She didn't answer, finding it much harder to hold back her tears now. "Y/n? Hey? What's wrong?" he asked.

Y/n stopped abruptly. "You really don't know?" she hissed.

A confused look formed on his face. "What do you mean"? he stammered. A tear fell down her cheek and his face was full of guilt now, without even knowing what he did.

"You forgot", you snapped, "again!"

He was thinking for one minute. It really took him one minute. What was wrong with that boy?!

Suddenly a wave of realization hit him. "Fuck." he squealed.

Y/n didn't need this shit right now, and ran away before he could say something. Making him run after her. "NO y/n wait! I'm so sorry, I won't forget next time, I promise, I'm so sorry" he begged while grabbing her arm, pulling her closer to him.

"You say that every time Fred" she sighed, another tear fell down.

It broke Fred's heart. It really did. He didn't mean to forget this things, he didn't want to hurt you. His mind was just so full all the time. So many things were going on in those brains of his.

"I mean it, I'm sorry, I love you y/n" he assured.

And she fell for it, like she always did. It happened every time. Fred said things that made her melt, and she forgave him. It was nothing new. Because how could she not? The sweet boy didn't mean to hurt her, she knew that, everyone knew that.

But still, her friends warned her. There was no future with a boy like this. It couldn't stay like this. So she swore to herself this was the last time. She made that clear to Fred too.

Because what if he's the love of her life? Her future? This was her last year after all, y/n’s future was right in front of her. What if Fred was her future? You both couldn't give that up.

May- 1996 - Hogwarts

Everything was alright.

They were okay.

And Fred hasn’t been late for a whole month, sounds like nothing special but to him and her it was.

This weekend y/n was going home, and not just home, but with Fred.

After a year it was time for him to meet her parents. Fred claimed he was the perfect son in law, so he didn’t hesitate to agree. Y/n was nervous and excited at the same time.

Ready in her dorm, with a portkey, she had her favourite sundress on. She was waiting for Fred but he didn’t show up. Okay it was only 15 minutes now, but with their little history it made her nervous. She was absolutely sure Fred wouldn’t forget this. He can’t forget this.

20 minutes later she was still waiting.

No. This couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t be.

And then, she found a note under her potionsbook. After reading only one word, she was already furious, a growing heat filling her cheeks.

Dear y/n, love

I remembered. I swear. But I just won’t make it. I’m not feeling okay and I think I might have a fever or something. I don’t want to make you or your parents sick, so I’m staying in my dorm.

I love you, kisses Fred x

She didn’t really know what to think. She was so disappointed, again.

But she could’t blame her boyfriend for feeling sick. Although she had her doubts, what if this wasn’t true, maybe he lied because he did forget it?

No, no, she had to trust him. Fred wouldn’t lie to her. So she grabbed the portkey and went to visit her parents.

Alone.

-

When she traveled back to Hogwarts it was late already, past midnight. Y/n hoped Umbridge wouldn’t catch her.

The corridors were empty, completely silent. This was not unusual. Most of the students were already asleep this late on a Sunday.

Unexpectedly, she heard gigles and laughs coming from around the corner. Did it come from the library? It couldn’t be. Not at almost 1 am.

She went closer to listen. Y/n placed her ear on the door. Was it... Was it...? No. No.

Did she hear Fred’s voice?

She really hoped she was just imagining this. Maybe she should trust Fred more.

But just checking won’t hurt right?

So she tried to open the door. It was locked.

“Alohamora” she whispered.

What she saw broke her heart into a million pieces.

Angelina sat on a table, with Fred extremely close to her, giggling. George and Lee were there too.

She couldn’t believe her own eyes. Looking silently in Fred’s shocked ones.

“Fuck” he sighed. “Y/n-“ he tried.

But she cut him off before he could say anything. “No, I don’t wanna hear another silly explanation from you, it’s enough, I don’t want to see you ever again” she screamed with tears in her eyes, making her vision blurry.

Y/n ran away, faster than ever so Fred couldn’t catch up this time.

“Stop!! Stop!” she heard him scream behind her.

She ran and ran, not even knowing were to.

“Let me explain” another scream followed.

That’s when she ended up in a corridor she didn’t know. A dead end. Ofcourse.

She gave up and stopped. Fred ended in front of her, breathing loudly, trying to catch his breath.

“Baby I-“ he tried

“Don’t call me baby, this is over” y/n cut him off.

Fred was speachless, for the first time in history. He didn’t realise this truly happened. He knew what he did wasn’t okay, but he never expected her to actually broke up with him. It just didn’t occur in his mind this was a possibility.

“But.. but...” he stuttered. “I swear, I can explain, what you’ve just seen, it wasn’t what you think it is. I’ve told you about the shoppe George and I want to open, right? It’s actually going to happen. We’re leaving hogwarts. That’s what we were doing, we were planning things. Tomorrow we’re going to blow up Umbridge, no not literally blow up, but with lots of firework! And then we’re going to open the shoppe together. It’s my dream y/n!” he rambled excited.

Y/n sighed. Understanding why he did this, but it didn’t change a thing.

“That actually makes things worse Fred. I’m happy your dream will come true. But you’re leaving and I’m finishing my year. When are you going to have time for me if you run a shop? You didn’t even have time for me now.” she cried.

Both of them were crying now. Knowing the break up was really going to happen. Fred wanted to keep fighting. But he knew she might be right.

A little sob left his mouth, something he never did before. She was right. He truly loved her but he couldn’t give her the happy future she deserved. He wasn’t right for her, he didn’t treat her the way she should’ve been treated. And the idea broke him. And that’s when she walked away.

They didn’t see each other again afterwards.

The next day, y/n laid in her bed when she heard fireworks, knowing what happened. She couldn’t go outside and watch...

Happy screams and laughs filled the castle. And that’s when she realised Fred and George were gone now. It was reality now. They won’t come back. Although a little part of her hoped they would stay. A little part of her thought Fred would come to her, begging her to stay with him. But she guessed he just didn’t love her enough.

After all the times Fred broke her heart, she was kind off used to it. But those heartbreaks couldn’t ever overcome this one.

August - 1996 - Diagon Alley

The summer was almost over, y/n graduated two months ago. The heartbreak still hurted but she was better now. She still didn’t know what to do now that she’s graduated.

Hermione decided you two had to go shopping. “It’ll make you happier” she stated like it was an actual fact. Y/n couldn’t say no of course.

Y/n’s breath hitched. A big clone of Fred’s face right in front of her (or George). This had to be their joke shoppe. God, it was more impressive than she expected. Guess you should never underestimate the twins.

“Let’s go inside y/n!” Hermione announced excited, grabbing her arm trying to puch her inside.

“Oh no no no no no, I don’t think that’s a great idea” she hesitated.

“Don’t worry, it’s so busy, Fred won’t see you” she promised her. Y/n sighed. She really didn’t want to go inside. She’d love to see the shoppe, but seeing Fred...

Whatever, it was true. It was so busy so Fred won’t ever notice her.

They entered, y/n was surprised, it was wonderful. Fred and George must have worked so hard to get to this point. God, she loved the place.

It brought back memories. All those joke products, most of them were used on her, she remembered. Fred thought it was hilarious to prank her literally all the time, being proud because it was something he invented himself. She couldn’t be mad about it, it made him so happy.

The place even smelled like him.

Y/n took a deep breath trying to gather all of the smell, in hope it would stay in her nose, so she could remember it back home.

She closed her eyes and imagined how it could be, if they didn’t broke up. How she would probably come here everyday to say hi, how she would watch Fred all day doing his job.

And then... she saw him. In his uniform, he stood there proudly on the stairs above her. Smiling happily, seeing all those laughing people because if his work.

He was happy. Fred missed y/n but he was happy. He thought a lot of all the things he did wrong. Although he didn’t really have time to worry.

Y/n sighed, it’s been months. Her heart was glowing inside her chest. She didn’t even feel sad any more. This was what her boyfriend always dreamt of. Her ex-boyfriend.

She turned around deciding it was not smart to look at the beautiful boy, the boy who still made her knees go weak.

Fred’s smell was more vibrant than before now. Almost like he was right in front of me.

Ow, love potions, of course.

Of course she still smelled Fred in it.

“I smell honey, flowers and vanilla soap” she heard a familiar voice whispering in her ear, almost making her jump.

“F-fred, hey” she stuttered, in shock by the fact he’s standing right in front of her.

“You look great, changed your hair” he smiled. It was true, y/n cut her hair a little shorter and decided to give it a lighter colour for the summer. The typical breakup haircut.

“Fred do you want to... talk... please?” she asked, knowing it wasn’t a great idea. She wanted to just run away after she realized what she said.

“We could go upstairs, talk in my appartment”

October- 1996 - Diagon Alley

“Come on darling, George opened up already!” Fred screamed running through his kitchen while jumping, trying to get his pants on. He grabbed an apple as breakfast.

Y/n ran to the kitchen too. “I thought you changed the being late thing” y/n joked, yes they joked about it now.

“You were the one holding me up this time” he smiled adding a wink. “You just can’t resist me in the bedroom” y/n answered daring.

She grabbed him by his collar, pressing a kiss on his lips. “I have no choice with the sexiest girlfriend in the word” Fred grinned, pressing kisses all over your face, making you giggle.

“Baby, you’re wearing your uniform backwards” he laughed.

Y/n worked at the shoppe now too.

When she asked Fred to talk, they actually talked for hours. They talked about what went wrong in their relationship, about what they had been doing in those months they broke up, talked about how they still had feelings,...

And after two hours they made up. Both being happier than ever, deciding they learned from their break up.

Fred asked her to come live in his apartment and work in their shop too. Y/n didn’t hesitate for a moment. She designed their boxes or packages and talked to costumers. But most of all she distracted Fred by rolling her uniforme skirt up and bowing down to ‘grab’ something. Sometimes he took her back to the appartment because he couldn’t hold back anymore.

Y/n now knew, the breakup was necessary. You both learned. And now you’re happier than ever.

Because after all, Fred was your future.

***

[wickedw3asleys]

JUST LIKE HEAVEN (Pt.2)

Fred x female reader (mentions of George)

AN: it is 5am i cannot sleep i need help oh my god i am SWEATING, FRED WEASLEY WILL BE THE DEATH OF ME. he's a dom and i do not accept any kind of criticism. Okay but more seriously, thank you so much for the support for the 1st part! I truly appreciate it and I hope you'll like this one as much as the first one!

WARNINGS: smut smut smut smut and more smut... unprotected sex... and cussing

A few days had passed after your talk with Fred and George.

And still nothing had happened.

And you never thought you'd be so eager for one of them to reach out to you to fill his needs. But you weren't going to be the one to give in first.

And they knew what they did to you, because the first moment they saw you after the big talk they started teasing the shit out of you, and you were too easy to piss off, way too horny to have patience with them. Could be an accidental brush of George's hand on your thigh; Fred whispering things in your ear that weren't necessarily explicit; or again, George finding any kind of excuse to touch you, even the slightest... And that drove you crazy. And the fact that they exactly what they were doing, only made it worse, them making clear that they wanted you.

And today was the day that your patience was at its limits. So you were going to play it reverse on them, and make them suffer a little bit.

You decided to just play it cool, not to look to hard for them, and just let the big boys come to you, as they liked to call themselves. So when you least expected, you saw them appear with the biggest grins on their faces.

You were hanging out with Hermione and Luna at the library, and once again you were going crazy with your studies. You already have had 2 exams, and you could feel your brain slowly dying from all the information it was absorbing.

So obviously, when the twins saw you in such a frustrated state, they knew once again how to play their cards.

"Oh, darling... You look so stressed...", Fred came behind you, "and those shoulders! You're way too tense..."

He winked at his brother and put his hands on your shoulders, slowly massaging them.

Hermione looked at you with an interrogating gaze, not really sure if she should say something or not, to what you unconsciously shrugged your shoulders.

Fred dominantly put his hand on the back of your neck, applying a slight pressure to the sides of your neck, "Keep still, sweetheart..."

You could feel the blood rushing up to cheeks and to other unholy places on your body.

"What. The. Hell.", Hermione mouthed to you, Luna getting more and more confused about all the situation, since she was way too preoccupied reading her Astronomy book.

"I. DON'T. KNOW.", you mouthed back.

Fred continued to massage and apply pressure on your shoulder and the back of your neck, and you felt like you were going completely mad. And when you saw George glancing at his brother, you knew this was another one of their games; so why not join in?

You sighed, mouthed a quick "sorry" to the two girls and started playing.

"Freddie! Oh my god! You're so good!", you softly moaned, stretching your back and neck. You could catch a confused and nervous look on George's face, who was once again looking at his brother, expecting a reaction from him.

"Mmhhh... you like that?", he whispered down to your ear. Fuck, he was a way too good player.

You turned your face to his, just to be a few inches from his lips. "Yeah, I like it...", you said, trying to sound convincing; when you knew that you were affected by him to your bloody core.

You could feel his breath shake as he straighten up, leaving a satisfied smile on your face.

"And what about you, Georgie?", you asked, looking at him with puppy eyes, "How's my favorite Weasley?"

"I'm fine...", he said, smirking, "Why? You missed me, darling?"

You couldn't see any type of nervousness in him, he never answered wrong, always continuing the game.

Not wanting to leave poor Hermione and Luna alone, you decided after a while to semi ignore the twins, and go back to your conversation with the girls, including the boys in from time to time, and when you could feel Fred being totally distracted, you made your killer move.

"OH! I'm so sorry, Fred!", you said, looking how your ink pot just had fallen on his lap.

"Damn it!"

Everybody had taken a few steps back, not wanting to have ink all over them, and when Hermione got up to go for some tissues, you got on your knees and started wiping Fred's thigh with your robes. Fortunately you knew a spell that would make these stains go away, otherwise you wouldn't have sacrificed yourself like that.

The sight of your on your knees, a hand on his upper thigh and the other one wiping the ink stains that were dangerously close to his dick, almost made him cum in his pants. He had spent too much time without doing anything and you being you didn't made it better. You've always drove him completely mad, and the fact that you've actually accorded to be shared between him and his brother was all he could have ever asked for.

He dominantly grabbed your hand, "Bloody hell, Y/N! Stop!", he groaned between his teeth, making sure no one else but you could hear him.

"What's wrong?", you asked innocently, looking up at him through your lashes.

"Shit", he groaned.

He quickly got up, took his brother by the arm and left the library.

"Oh... Where did they go?", Hermione asked with the tissues in her hand.

"I don't know...", you couldn't help but smile victoriously. You've beaten Fred Weasley at his own game. You've put down one of the two twins. You still had to win against George, and from what you've been observing, he'd be the harder one to play against; fooling everybody with his innocent looks.

"Am I right saying that there was completely an unsolved tension in here for a second?", Luna asks.

"Y/N, what the hell was all this?!", Hermione says, clearly aware of what's happening.

"It's just a game! Nothing harmful! Don't worry", you smile, blushing.

"I don't know what kind of games you're playing with them but when I saw Fred going through that door he looked like he could spit fire...", Hermione points out, "I just hope you know what you're doing..."

"I do, Mione... I've talk to them..."

"What do you mean you've talked to them?", Luna asks, curious.

"Oops...", you say as you start getting up and taking your books with you, earning a gasp and shocked laugh from both of them. You winked at the girls and got out of the library.

There wasn't a lot of students out in the corridors at this time of the evening. It was almost bed time so everybody was either in their common rooms or still at the library, just like Hermione and Luna.

So when you felt a hand on the back of your neck again, you felt relief that no one was there.

"Good night, Freddie...", you smiled, his hand adding pressure.

"I hate you", he says between his teeth.

"Oh... Why is that?", you pout. If he'd thought he was the only one able to play this game, he was damn wrong.

"Don't play innocent here, you knew what you were doing"

"Just how you knew what you were doing to me for the past days. Both you and your brother. Am I wrong?", you tried turning your head, but his grip on your neck didn't let you, "Didn't your mother tell you to not play with your food, Freddie?"

The smirk you had on your face the second you pronounced these words could have killed Fred in an instant. It was the weirdest, yet most erotic, thing a girl have ever said to him, and he felt those words resonate through his whole body, specially under his pants.

"Fuck...", he groaned. He grabbed your arm and started leading you. You didn't knew where but you wanted to follow him so bad right now, nothing could have stopped you. You wanted him and you knew the feeling was reciprocal.

You turned a corner and arrived at the second-floor girl's bathroom. Fred quickly opened the door, making sure no one saw them go in and the second the door closed, his pressed his lips against yours. Almost with anger. He was so eager to kiss you...

Neither of you took the time to completely undress the other, you just stayed there, him pressing his body on yours, devouring your mouth.

Without breaking the kiss, he started leading you to the sinks, where he lifted you and sat you. Your skirt almost lifted to your waist and his hands fiercely groping your thighs.

"How DARE you come snog in MY bathroom?!", a whining voice made you both jump, trying to regain your breath.

"Mimi!", Fred breathed out, "Sorry! W-we..."

"Oh... Hi, Frederick...", Moaning Myrtle slowly approached Fred, not even paying attention to you, "You're looking good tonight...", she says.

"You too, Mimi, but we're kind in the middle of something right now...", he says, awkwardly.

"Oh... I see that...", she says, glaring at you in anger.

"Hi, Myrtle..."

"Come on Myrtle, please... I promise to make Harry come visit you tomorrow, but please, please, let us stay here...", he pleaded. You could hear the desperation in his voice and that only turned you on even more.

Moaning Myrtle was taking his proposal in consideration, and quickly ended up agreeing. "Tell him I want to see him in that grey shirt he always wears, he looks so good in it...", she says before completely disappearing in the darkness of the bathroom.

"Wow... So Moaning Myrtle too, huh?", you teased Fred.

"Yeah, yeah, don't start", he quickly cupped your face with one hand and started kissing you again, this time with more passion, more fire. He was kissing you as his life depended on it, his hands always groping your skin; your thighs, your stomach, your waist... He was like an animal, so eager and needy. And you loved every bit of it.

Fred pulled out from your lips and started going down, kissing your jaw... You neck... Licking it and making sure to leave at least two or three visible marks for him to admire the next day. You moaned when he started kissing that sweet spot of you, just behind your ear, as he started slightly pulling your hair. That combination would be the death of you.

"Fuck, Fred...", you moaned in his ear. He raised his head and took a second to finally admire your messed up state, which only made him want to go rough on you.

He leaned in again and started kissing you while unbuttoning your white shirt, not losing a single second. Just as he kept unbuttoning it, he started kissing your chest until it was completely at sight. He groaned to himself when he saw the black lace bra you were wearing that day.

This time, you were the one to not lose time. The second your blouse was unbuttoned, you started attacking his pants, taking of his belt and lowering it a little so you could play with the elastic of his boxers.

"Wait...", he suddenly stopped.

"What? What are you- FUCK!", you loudly moaned as you saw him going down on his knees before you and taking your clit in his mouth. Your hands directly went to his hair, pulling it gently.

You could have come by the simple sight of what was happening, Fred on his knees eating you out, his hair all messy and his arms strongly around your thighs.

"Oh my-... Yes, just like that", you moaned again, making Fred chuckle against you, sending vibrations through you.

He started placing little kisses and kitten licks all over your pussy, licking every inch of it, making it his.

"If you keep... FUCK! Doing this... I'm going to cum... Oh my god, Fred..."

He chuckled again and stopped his movements to look up at you. Fuck, you were looking so pretty, already all fucked up.

He got up, never breaking eye contact with you. He was literally towering you, you sitting on the small sink, your legs around his waist.

He was going to start kissing you again when you stopped him, putting your soft hand on his clothed chest.

"Wait... My turn...", you seductively said, slowly kneeling.

He instantly knew what you were about to do, so he helped you lowered his pants down a little.

"Bloody hell, you're so big...", you whispered.

"Well, wait are you waiting for?", he said, lifting up your chin.

Your mouth instantly started drooling the moment you took him in your mouth. You slowly lowered your head down his shaft, taking all you could of him in your mouth, and then up again.

You started licking his tip and his sides, trying to get it as wet as you could.

"Y/N... Fuck... You're so good at this...", you felt his body lean against the sink you were previously sitting on, and saw his hand grab the edge of it to gain support. "Keep going please, keep going..."

You did as he pleaded. You slowly started to bob your head up and down his dick, both of you making the most sinful sounds. You could feel him throb in your mouth as your lowered your head more and more, and you loved it.

Suddenly, he grabs you by the hair and lifts you up again, helping you sit on the sink again.

"Legs up for me, will you sweetheart?", he says, caressing your inner thighs.

"If you ask so nicely...", and you lifted your legs to wrap them around his waist.

Fred sucked his thumb and lowered it to your clit, drawing figures eight on it, slowly.

"Mmmhhh...", you moaned, throwing your head back.

"Are you ready?", he asks, his thumb still on your clit.

"Yes", you smiled back at him, locking eyes with him and not breaking contact when he entirely slid into you.

"Merlin, you're so tight...", Fred moaned in the crook of your neck.

You grab him by the shoulders and let him start thrusting in and out of you; first at an awful slow pace, making him bite your neck.

"Come on, darling...", you encouraged him. And with that, as if something lightened up inside him, he straightened himself, towering over you again, and roughly putting one of his hands around your neck and the other one around your thigh. That made him gain stability, so he started thrusting deeper and harder tan before.

"YES! Oh my god... Yes...", you put your forehead against his and closed your eyes shut, lost in the feeling.

"Yeah... Like that...", he says, going even faster, hitting that special spot of yours that made you almost scream. "That's it, darling... Show me where I am..."

You clumsily took his hand and tried to find on your lower abdomen the spot that Fred was hitting so you could show him how deep he was buried in you.

"Oohh, yes... There it is...", he says, feeling his tip brushing against his hand. He applied more pressure to your abdomen, making his dick hit that spot again and again.

"FUCKKKKK! YES!", you screamed, eyes almost rolling back in your head.

"Look at me, sweetheart, look at me...", Fred took your face and started to thrust deeper and harder just to watch your reaction, to which he wasn't disappointed. Your swollen lips, messy hair and the spots he had been leaving along your neck and chest were the most beautiful view ever.

He started massaging your breast through your bra as he once again increased his speed.

All you could do was messily breathe and loudly moan as he trusted in and out of you. He was so big. Stretching you so good. And the fact that he was being so rough yet so gentle with you was insane.

Once again he brought his hand to your clit, slowly massaging it and making you moan even louder.

"Ssshhhh... Sweetheart, do I have to remind you how to be quiet?", he says, his hand against your mouth.

You remembered the moment he first pressed his big hand on your mouth, all the thoughts that were crossing your mind and all the fantasies you've created because of that specific moment, and now all of them where becoming reality.

"Do I reckon you like my hand on you like this, right?", he smiled, thrusting deeper.

Your screams were now muffled by his hand, but he could see your eyes starting to water, which only made him increase the pace.

You were a moaning mess, your nails going to his back, his arms and chest, also leaving your little marks.

"Come on, I want you to see yourself when you cum...", he says before slipping out of you and turning you, now facing the mirror.

He put his hand where it belonged: your neck. And started to kiss you again, looking at you through the mirror's reflection.

With no previous notice, he slammed into you from behind, making your face contort in pleasure.

"Oh my god...", you say, trying to grab the edge of the sink.

He pulled your hair again, leaning your head back on his chest.

"Look at you...", he says, "so fucking... pretty..."

He brought his free hand to your clit again, the new angle making it easier for him to massage it in the correct way.

That made you scream again, feeling your legs fail you.

"I've got you, darling... Come on...", he whispered, tightly holding on to you.

He continued his relentless attack on your pussy and clit, making the pleasure almost unbearable for you.

"F-Fred... I-I'm c-cumming... SHIT!"

He smirked at your reflection and didn't stop his thrusting until he felt your inner walls tightly close again his cock. The feeling of you cumming with him inside you made it impossible for him to hold any longer, so as he was helping you riding your orgasm, he chased his own one, both of you moaning loudly in the other's ears and clinging to each other as your lives depended on it.

He stayed inside you a few more seconds, trying to regain his breath and strength.

"I think that deserves a big high five...", you say, lazily raising your hand.

He weakly moaned, trying to high five you, but terribly failed.

He finally got the strength to pull out of you with a hiss, slowly pulling his dick out and letting a pool of both of your fluids form in the sink.

"Thank you", he breathed out, kissing your forehead.

"No! Thank you!"

"I knew this was a good idea!", he says, proud of him.

"The most brilliant idea you've ever had...", you say, helping him putting his belt back on.

"What are you doing?", he asks.

"That, my friend, is a souvenir...", you laughed, patting the panties you just put in his pocket.

"Oh, you're a nasty one... Very, very nasty...", he smirks.

"You have no idea...", you say, kissing his neck again. "Let's go, before the others start asking too many questions"

"We're definitely doing that again, I hope you know that...", he says, entering the Gryffindor common room.

"Isn't that why we've talked about it, you git?" you laughed.

"Hey, where were you two?", Hermione asks, "We've been waiting for you for almost two hours!"

"Oh, we just quickly went to visit Moaning Myrtle...", you say, eyeing how George was looking at the marks on your neck, "Harry by the way, she wants you there tomorrow with your grey shirt. No discussion!"

You hear Harry groan and throw his head in his hands, "Why? Why did you this to me? Why do you hate me so much!?!"

"Come on, she's not that bad...", you say, sitting next to George.

"How does she even know I have that shirt?!", he starts whining, but soon enough, your attention was turned to George, who was playing with the back of your skirt.

"Looking good...", he whispered, "Who would have thought you're such a dirty player?"

"You have no idea...", you smirked.

He looked at you and chuckled, "You'll show me soon enough...", he said, discretely placing his hand on your inner thigh.

You looked up trying to see if anyone was looking at you, but for your luck, they were too busy hearing Harry whine about Myrtle. And then, you crossed Fred's gaze. He winked at you and raised to you his plastic bottle and drank a sip, that making George chuckle again.

For Goddrick's sake... These two were going to drive you completely mad...

[citydreamgrls]

they were roommates - part nine (final)

a weasley twins x fem!reader fic

summary: she had nowhere to go, fleeing home to pursue something along the lines of freedom, so being welcomed into the entrepreneurial twins life was a whole world of new experiences waiting to happen.

an: hello :) this is the final chapter of they were roommates, and i am so happy that so many of you stuck with it and continued to support me throughout. it has taken a long time, so i can only apologise, but thank you everyone, you’ve been angels and i love you all <33333

words: 8,229

The sky was an unruly grey when Fred landed in the field, his mind too distracted to aim well enough, but still the burrow was in sight and the girl in his arms had a faint pulse. He would have run all the way from Romania if it meant there was a chance for her.

He sighed at the sight of a light on in the kitchen, too far away to make out who it was that moved around inside.

“Help!” He shouted, his voice raspy and raw. “Anyone! Help!”

A flash of long red hair sped past the window and opened the back door. Ginny gasped at the sight of her best friend sprawled across Fred’s two arms, her head bobbing with each slowing step he took closer.

“Oh god.” She whispered, seeing the crimson spreading over the ripped, white dress.

Her body didn’t kick into action until it truly hit her what had happened. The youngest Weasley cleared the way for her brother, watching intently as he kicked a clear path through the house.

George was on the sofa near the fire, his face illuminated yet showing little signs of life. Only the slow rise and fall of his chest settled Fred’s ever growing nerves.

“He’ll be fine, just needs to rest.” Ginny said with a low voice, rendered useless by the sight before her. “Is she-” “You need to help her.” Fred blurted out, kneeling at the girl’s side now that she was spread on the floor.

“What? I-I can’t Fred, you know-” “She’s been stabbed.” Ginny wondered whether he hadn’t heard her, whether her voice was too quiet. Because he set to work transfiguring the dining tablecloth into bandages and gauze.

“Who?” “That bastard Nott- now help me!” He was growing impatient, the immediate tasks running out as he realised he would need to step away from her very soon.

Ginny froze, tears welling up at the thought of her best friend in so much pain. Yet she looked so ethereal against the flames’ glow, in her beautiful dress. Nothing made sense.

“I need mum.” The girl told her brother.

“There isn’t enough time! Ginny, please.” The man was desperate. He couldn’t lose her, not because of this, not now.

“But I’ve never done anything like this, I wouldn’t know what to do without her!” She rambled, gulping down her sobs.

“Please.” Fred looked up with tear stained cheeks, the fear finally setting in. “I need her.”

Ginny nodded, taking careful steps towards her, and grabbed her wand tightly. She racked her brain for all the healing spells her mother had taught her, all of the times her brothers relied on her to heal their quidditch injuries before Molly would see them. It had to amount to something, she must have something that could help her friend.

“She needs you too.” Freddie whispered, only just heard above the intense roar of their fire. His hand rested on her shoulder lovingly, wanting to reassure the young witch all he could.

A small string of blue tied between Ginny’s wand and y/n’s body, her voice slow and gentle as she made sure her pronunciation was perfect. The girl’s chest rose as she got further through the chant, reaching higher and higher until it fell again.

The thud was jarring, making both Fred and his sister jump back slightly.

“Is she okay?” The man asked, reaching forward to feel for her pulse.

“I’m not sure,” Ginny gulped, frowning at the response that y/n had at her spell. “She shouldn’t have reacted to it at all.”

Fred turned his head, his fingers unmoving from the inside of her wrist. He needed to know that there was still a small sign of life behind this shell of a girl.

“What do you mean?”

As soon as the final syllable was uttered from the man, the girl’s body started shaking violently, uncontrollably. He tried to stop her, hold her down, anything to make it end. But she was having a bad reaction.

“Ginny! Stop it.”

The girl managed to whisper yet another spell to reign her in, the fitting ending, but the feeling of dread still very present in the warm room.

“She’s lost a lot of blood.” She explained. “Saw something like it when our seeker cracked his head open last year, she needs to go to a st.mungo's.”

“No. She won’t make it through another trip. Getting here took enough out of her.” Fred pleaded with his sister, adamant that she could save his love.

“Fine. Grab some medical supplies from mum’s cupboard. I’ll make a cut.” The redheaded girl held out her arm, fashioning a blade out of some scissors, and took a deep breath. Fred stopped her, alarm in his tone as he cried out.

“You can’t do it!” He snatched the scissors away from his sister. “You can’t help her if you’re unconscious. I’ll do it.”

He looked uneasy, his eyes switching between the blade that hovered over his own skin and the girl who laid with her eyes closed beside his resting brother. “Please Fred, I can’t have three unconscious bodies on my hands.” Ginny groaned, stuck with what to do.

“We don’t have a choice.”

The man took a deep breath, reminding himself that this was all worth it. All the fighting, the pain, the blade. All of it was worth it for the chance to be with her again.

“Oh god I can’t watch.” Ginny’s voice shook as she left the room, doing her best to ignore the way her brother winced every now and then. Instead she searched the burrow for supplies, piling them up in her arms to carry back.

When she returned, Fred had created a cut big enough to take the blood from. She set up a drip from the man, grimacing at the way the red liquid flowed slowly through the tube before her eyes.

“Don’t tell me you’re squeamish.” Fred chuckled lightly, sucking his teeth when the tube tugged at his fresh wound.

“It’s a little different from grazed knees.” She huffed, busying herself with healing charms and blood purifying spells.

“Though you did pop Ron’s shoulder back in place that one time.” The man was trying to distract himself from the situation.

He remembered the day so vividly. It was the summer before the twins’ last year at Hogwarts, not that they knew it, and everyone was enjoying a weekend without the parents. Hermione had been with them from the start, finally showing a little more interest in the people around her rather than her books.

She had been the smart one to refuse their quidditch game invitation, stating that it was too hot for any of them to be playing regardless. It was true, the sun had been shining down on them all week, but it was yet to stop them from flying round the surrounding fields.

Ginny was refereeing, giving points to Harry for doing absolutely fuck all, but none of them teased her too badly about it. Instead they teased Ron for squinting under the sun’s glare. One shout from Fred about it had caught him off guard, making their younger brother turn to face him, only to miss the flying bludger that knocked him clean off the broom.

The fall had been so bad that he hadn’t even cried out, just laid there with his eyes blinded by the sun in the sky above him. Of course they all rushed to his side, but Ginny had pushed them away, wasting no time with pleasantries and just pushed his shoulder into place once again. Like it was nothing.

Fred watched her work on y/n, realising why she hadn’t thrown herself into it the second they had arrived at the burrow. She meant too much to them, she was pure and perfect and undeserving of pain. Ginny knew that Ron would complain, but that ultimately he would survive the fall.

Here. She didn’t know. Neither of them did. And that fear lingered in the air as he had laid her down. Now she was just silent, moving carefully and checking her pulse every two minutes just to make sure.

After a few hours of Fred giving blood on and off, Ginny finally refused anymore from him, arguing that he would just end up passed out if he tried to give away even a single drop more.

“Y/n needs you awake.” She told her brother, finally taking a breath when she knew the girl was going to be okay after all.

“Thank you Gin… you were amazing.” He told her, sitting on the floor beside the sleeping girl, his back resting against the sofa were George snored lightly. His sister just nodded, washing her hands of the blood with a flick of her wand, doing all she could to relax herself now that it was over. “Hey,” George murmured from his slumber, waking slightly.

“You okay?” The young Weasley asked, leaning over him to feel his forehead.

“Come here lifesaver.” He grinned, grabbing his sister and trapping her against him until she agreed to just lay with him.

“Thanks mate.” Fred laughed, smiling up at the sight before fixing his gaze on the girl. He would never leave her again, this could never happen again.

After a while the pair behind him fell asleep, leaving him awake with his thoughts, none of them bright. But Fred did all he could to focus on her, on what was good in the world… on her.

-

Through a darkness that had plagued the girl’s mind ever since Crag hall, a sudden jolt of warmth encompassed her. The pain was still there, although much less prominent than she remembered, as she laid still.

It was mostly a blur. Images of Mr Nott’s memories lingered behind her eyes, flashing to the forefront whenever she tried to move. Was she even moving at all? All the girl could hear was the faint sound of clinking and hushed voices. None of which sounded like him, all she could hope was that wherever she was, Fred was safe.

When her eyes flicked open she was greeted with a ceiling, covered in beams, their wood reflecting small orange licks as the crackling of a fire filled her ears. She groaned, overwhelmed by the change of consciousness, suddenly hearing everything all at once.

The movement woke Fred, his arm slumped over her colder body protectively while they slept. He watched carefully, thinking that her open eyes were some sort of hopeful dream he was having. It was her quiet voice that broke his hazed spell.

“Freddie.”

The girl choked on her words, immediately groaning out as her stomach tensed and the wound pierced her once again. He sat up, quick to hold her close and begged some higher power to let him take her suffering.

“Everything okay?” She asked, after gulping down the glass of water that Fred had given her to coat her dry throat. All he could do was laugh. “What?” She asked, mirroring his smile with confusion.

“You’ve been laying like this for nearly two days, and that’s all you have to say.” He was in hysterics, finding the whole scene much more humorous than she.

“I don’t understand.” The girl frowned, moving to sit up… only to be met with the painful reminder of why she’d been passed out in the first place.

“Hey, be careful darling.” Fred held her still, waiting until the stinging passed by. She moved a little, testing her boundaries, before giving up and slumping against the man’s chest with a defeated sigh.

“Do you remember what happened y/n?” Fred asked, stroking her hair as she fixed her gaze on the fire before them. She could still hear the low voices in the background, most likely the rest of the family pottering in the kitchen.

“Is everyone-” She started, ignoring his previous question.

“They’re fine, George had a bump- but he’s back on his feet.” The girl nodded slowly, glad that she wasn’t the reason for any loss.

“Mr Nott- he… he -” “He stabbed you, darling… don’t you remember?” She did. If anything it was the only thing she knew to be true from that strange situation. It was his memories that seemed like a dream, like she had made it up just to see some humanity behind the cruelty.

“Uh- yes, I remember.” The girl was still wearing the white dress, most of it covered in dried up blood and tears. But Molly had covered her with a blanket when she’d seen her, scolding her children for not doing so before then. It was soft, and welcoming, it felt like home.

“I promise,” Fred leant his head on the top of hers, keeping his voice low. He wanted this moment to stay between them alone. “-that I will never let anything happen to you again, I should have never let you be alone.”

“It was an accident Freddie, there was no way anyone could have known.” She clung to his hand, hating that he blamed himself.

“That bastard- if I ever see him again, I’ll kill him.” Fred hissed, obviously distracted by the thought of Theo.

“Wasn’t he caught?” The girl asked.

“Got away before anyone could find him.” George’s voice greeted her like a well-deserved hug, but the bandages on his head froze her heart for a moment. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m all here.” He laughed wasily, knocking on the side of his head theatrically.

“If anything the fall knocked some sense into you.” Fred sneered, propping some more cushions up behind the girl so she could support herself a little better.

“Fred!” Molly shouted from the garden, her voice travelling through the open backdoor.

“I’ll be right back.” He told her, getting to his feet and nodding to his brother as he left the room. George would stay with her for now.

“Y’allright petal?” He asked, folding his arms as he stood over her.

“Gonna help me up?” She shrugged, rolling her eyes at how smug he looked.

“One moment, just taking in the few moments of superiority.” He teased, raising an amused eyebrow.

“Whatever makes you feel better- but as soon as I’m mobile, I’m taking you down.”

George chuckled and helped her up, stopping to let her catch her breath whenever the pain became too much. It was slow and clumsy, but it did the job and meant that the girl could enjoy the comfort of the Weasley’s sofa instead of the hard floor.

“Fred wouldn’t let anyone move you until you woke up.” He told her, letting her spread out her legs over his lap. “He was too scared we would make it worse.” The girl smiled at the man’s words, knowing that Freddie was just being overprotective.

“Has he told you about your parents yet?” George asked, making sure she was okay to stay upright by herself.

“They didn’t get away too, please say they didn’t.” Her face had dropped so quickly that the man beside her scrambled to reassure her with the truth.

“No, not at all. They were taken by aurors, Kingsley came himself to assess the scene.” “Minister Kingsley?” Her jaw dropped at the powerful wizard’s mention.

“He owes us a few favours, as a family.”

She just nodded, glad that the main threat had been dealt with.

But still, something was eating away at her.

“Where are the others?” She asked, her eyes watching the vague movement inside the kitchen.

“Dad isn’t back from work yet, Bill had to go too but he’ll no doubt stop by to make sure you’re still with us. It’s just Ron and Harry in there.”

“What about Ginny?” The grave look on the girl’s pale face didn’t go unnoticed.

“She’s fine… she’s sleeping right now.” George told her, a protective hand on her shoulder. “Hermione’s been watching her for a while.” Y/n just nodded.

“George… if I tell you something, will you promise not to mention it to Fred?”

“What? I-I mean… that really depends darling.” He sighed, knowing that if he could never truly promise that to her when it came to his brother.

“It’s about Mr Nott-” “Theo? What did he do to you?”

“Besides the big stab wound? Nothing really.” She laughed, that had been the only thing, hadn’t it?

“Sorry, go on.”

“Well, Mr- uh Theo. He sort of showed me some things- before he… he” The girl motioned to the hidden wound, struggling to find the right words to explain what she’d seen.

“What things?” George frowned, taking her hand in his. It had only just occurred to him that she’d been alone with the man for however long it had taken Fred to find her. Merlin knows what he could’ve submitted her to.

“I’m not keeping this from Fred for any bad reasons- I just don’t think he would understand.” She explained, playing with the ring George had started wearing on his pinky.

“But you need to tell someone, right?”

“Yeah. It’s just all a bit strange.”

So she, in hushed voices, told the man all that she had seen in Theo’s mind before he had lashed out at her. All the memories and the heartbreak of the dangerous man’s life that had plagued her mind when she whispered that fateful spell. The way he had crumbled under the pressure of his family’s reputation. All of it had driven him to this.

“How did you learn legilimency? I always presumed your parents taught you the basic stuff, you know, to keep you under control.” George asked, somewhat blindsided by all the information. He too began watching the back door in case Fred returned, finally understanding the girl’s need to keep it from his brother.

“I read up on it, one of the housemaids would let me test it on her in secret every now and then, but it took years of practice.” The woman had seen a lot in her time, yet most of her deepest secrets weren’t even hers to keep. So she had no qualms letting the young girl delve inside her mind. “Wow, I can imagine.” The man chuckled to himself lightly.

“I know I should hate him,” Y/n started, her eyes fixed on the floor. “Theo, that is. But I can’t help but feel sorry for him.”

“Darling, he nearly killed you. If it wasn’t for Ginny t-then we would have lost you.” He held her chin, turning it so she would look him in the eyes. His tears were small, but she saw them all the same.

“And I cannot be more grateful that he didn’t succeed. But I think there’s more to him- more to his pain. No one in their right mind would kidnap a bride.” Her argument was pretty solid, even George couldn’t ignore that.

The man sighed, leaning back, but still holding her hand close to him.

“Maybe you’re right.” He mused, eyes on the ceiling.

“He’s hurting. And he needs someone to tell him he’s worth his own life.”

“Fred would hate that. He wants to kill the man.” George scoffed, eyeing his brother’s ginger hair as it flashed by the kitchen window.

“That’s why I can never tell him… he wouldn’t see my thought process.”

“Yep. Keep this one to yourself darling, our secret.” The man winked, getting up when Fred came back into the living room.

He grinned at them both, digging both hands into his jeans pockets.

“So… what have you two been chatting about?” He asked, glad to see his girlfriend had her perfect smile back.

“Cats.”

“Dogs.” They both said in unison, a look of shock overcoming them when they realised how in tune they both were.

“Huh?” Fred frowned, carefully watching them both.

“We were thinking of getting a pet. I want a cat, y/n wants a dog.” George quickly came up with, giving himself a mental pat on the back for it.

“Looks like you’re the deciding vote Freddie.” The girl giggled.

Fred shrugged nonchalantly.

“Why not both?” He smirked and walked off to the kitchen to grab them all something to eat.

“Oh thanks a lot.” George complained.

“You’re the one who actually said we were gonna get one.” “Yeah well now we have both.”  The man whined.

-

The both of them bickered over their problem for another hour or so until Ginny came down to break up the pet party. She hogged the girl for the rest of the night, refusing to move from beside her, even growling at Fred when he came too near.

“She was always like this.” Molly laughed quietly, watching the two girls as they slept in each other's arms on the sofa. Arthur was at her side, his head leant on hers as they looked at the scene before them.

The twins were passed out on the floor, Hermione slumped by the fire at their feet. But best of all, Harry and Ron were on the other sofa, them too in each other’s arms in oblivious bliss.

“Shall I dig out that muggle camera darling?” Arthur asked eagerly.

“I think so. It’s best they remember the better things amongst the darkness eh?”

-

The shop was empty now, and not having been open for the past couple of days hadn’t stopped people from visiting each morning just in case. But after the third day, both twins decided that they couldn’t afford to put it off much longer.

“Now are you sure you’ll be okay?” Ginny frowned at her best friend who was wearing a borrowed outfit of Hermione’s. The redhead knew she recognised the jeans from somewhere, but was struggling to place it all together in her head.

Y/n just nodded, yet again assuring the youngest Weasley that she could make the quick floo trip back to the loft.

“As much as I would love to stay, I fear that I will become part sofa if you force me to spend much longer on it.” The girl teased, throwing what little belongings she had been brought into a backpack and throwing it over her shoulder.

“But what if it makes your cut worse? The magic could tear open your side!” She tried to tell her, following her as she made her way slowly down the burrow’s stairs.

“Then you can come save me again Ginny.” The girl smiled, taking a small breather on the last landing before setting off again.

Fred and George stood in the kitchen, patiently awaiting her arrival while also fighting over the last piece of toast. Molly just rolled her eyes at the sons, knowing that trying to defuse them would only turn their attention onto her. But she lit up at the sight of y/n on her feet.

“Oh boys! Don’t just stand there, help her won’t you!” She cried out, seeing the way the girl gripped onto passing furniture for balance.

“Already tried to-” George started, crossing his arms and watching her.

“She won’t let us help her at all.” Fred explained, proud that she was getting better, even if he did just want to carry her home. It would put his mind at ease at least.

“I need to build some strength as it is, but thank you Mrs Weasley.” Y/n spoke when she reached the small group, her voice slightly raspy as she caught her breath again.

“Nonsense dear, we needed you here to keep you safe.” She wrapped a loving arm around the girl, proudly gazing over the two sons who had been the reason she was in their family at all. “Wouldn’t have had it any other way.” She whispered, giving her one last hug before letting her hobble over to the fireplace with the twins.

“Ready?” Fred asked.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed home.” She smiled up at him, taking floo powder in one hand and his in the other. The boys were her home, that was obvious from the start.

-

“I told you, Freddie, I don’t need anything.” The man had been showering her with gifts all day, with the idea that it would keep her in bed until she was strong enough to walk around on her own. But he had already found her around the loft on three separate occasions, and each time he had marched her right back to bed with a small lecture about her health.

Now he stood in the doorway to their bedroom with a bottle of wine and a bunch of flowers, the grin on his face the best gift of all.

“I just want to make you feel better, I hate leaving you up here all day.” He whined, pulling back the covers and slipping inside with her. He smelt like the little fireworks that were always whizzing around the shop when she nuzzled her face against his side.

“I wish I didn’t have to work, but it’s surprisingly hard work with just the two of us again.” He carried on, opening the bottle and taking a long gulp.

“See, I do more than you think.”

“Keep it up and you’ll be promoted to chief asskicker.” He sniggered, pouting when she snatched the alcohol from him for herself.

“Just you wait. As soon as I can make it down to the shop, I’ll be wearing my heaviest shoes for that job.” She winked, settling against him with a happy sigh.

Now it was bliss. No more problems, her parents were well out of the picture now that they’d been arrested by aurors with the men who had held her hostage. And as much as Fred complained about his whereabouts, the girl had an inkling that she needn’t worry about Theodore Nott coming to cause more chaos.

She had Fred. She had George. She had her own family, her own home. The girl had all she had longed for while living under her parents’ fucked up rules. Back then she didn’t know better, but now it was so much more different.

Now she could enjoy things without feeling guilty, and she could smile and really mean it.

-

The first day that y/n seemed her normal self again was a joyous one. The summer heat was hitting them all inside the stuffy shop, and hoards of kids just kept coming in now that they were on holiday. But the sight of her face when she bounded down the stairs behind them was a breath of fresh air to the two men.

The girl was wearing the white dress she’d worn on her date to Bill, styled down with her light cardigan and some sandals. It was almost recognisable to her boyfriend, who had been filled with jealousy knowing that the beautiful dress had been for someone else.

Now. It filled him with something else, that he felt guilty to admit… even to himself.

“Morning you two.” She beamed, slumping an arm over both of their shoulders.

“You seem happy?” Fred smirked, eyeing her up and down.

“Oi, eyes up here.” She teased, her attention falling on him when George left to serve a customer.

“I like this.” He spoke lowly, his head dipping down to her ear as his fingers played with the frilled skirt. Fred didn’t try to defend the way he stared.

The girl blushed beneath his gaze, feeling how badly he wanted her just by the way he stood beside her in silence. The usually chatty man was stunned to silence by the amount of dirty thoughts running through his mind, glaring down any cocky teenager who lingered around her for too long.

Since the incident he had been too scared to push her, constantly worried that he would only hurt her more if they took things too far. The girl’s whines about it hadn’t made things easier for him either.

But now she was fine… and he had waited far too long to ignore the growing desires that were currently travelling south.

Y/n saw Fred disappear to her old bedroom, the twins’ now office, as she rang up another customer’s basket. She had to admit, it felt good to have an affect on him after he had insisted on babying her all this time.

-

“Is he still in there?” George asked at the end of the day, nodding his head over to the small office, it’s light poking through the closed blinds on the door.

“Ever since this morning,” She still smiled, despite the other twins' confusion.

“What do you know?” He frowned to her, stealing the broom from between her hands so she couldn’t have an excuse to avoid him.

“Oh. Nothing.” She said, her smirk still plastered across her smug face.

“Spill it.” He hissed, following her as she tidied up some stray shelves.

“I’m not sure you would want to know.” The girl teased, tossing a gaze over her shoulder.

“You minx!” George squealed, the sound a stark contrast to his usually intimidating size.

“What?” “Has he been wanking in there?” His voice was low, but he looked like he’d hit the jackpot.

“Ew! I hope not…” She trailed out, surprised that she’d spoken her thoughts aloud so easily.

George pushed the broom against her chest, letting it fall as he began walking away.

“What?” She called after him.

“Please! For the love of merlin… don’t be longer than an hour.” George huffed, having quickly deduced the reason for his brother’s absence.

“Where are you going?” The girl laughed, the man always was one for theatrics.

“Anywhere but here,” He turned and gave her one last look. “Now don’t waste that time.” He grimaced at his own words but left with a crack of his wand, disappearing into thin air.

The girl did as she was told and threw the broom back into it’s cupboard, getting rid of the cardigan she’d worn over her dress so that Fred could get a better look at her.

She knocked on the office door, doing her best to hide her smile when Fred called out.

“Yes?”

“Mr Weasley?” She poked her head round the door innocently, batting her eyelashes at the man. “I believe I’m your five o’clock appointment.” Her voice was thick and drawled out, like honey.

He smirked at her little act, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and loosening his tie now that they were finally alone.

“Hope I haven’t filled up your evening.” He asked, watching her whole body as she stalked around the dimly lit room, stopping to run her fingers over some books he’d put on display.

“Not yet you haven’t.” She spoke quietly to herself, turning back to the man with her tongue running over her lips.

The girl couldn’t help but drool over the sight of him, his broad shoulders stretched against his white shirt, his top buttons forgotten in the heat and his hair pushed back by his long fingers. She had missed those fingers.

“Are you busy?” She asked, slowly making her way closer to him.

“Swamped.” He lied, eyes fixated on her golden legs as they neared.

“Anything I can do to help?”

“Mmmm plenty.” He moaned lightly when she placed her hands somewhat forcefully on his tense shoulders, her little breaths flowing onto his neck as she got closer.

“Then let me help you… sir.” He groaned out, unable to stop the way his body reacted to her calling him that. Her smile was almost audible as she spoke, watching his every move as she tortured him slowly. “You’ve been hiding from me, haven’t you?”

“Maybe… but I had my reasons.”

The man lifted his head up, leaning further back into the chair and letting her sit on the desk in front of him. She crossed her legs teasingly, clenching her thighs as his eyes roamed over her.

“What reasons then?” Her eyes were like a predator’s, looking at him like she would eat him up in one bite.

“Well… for starters you-”

“Me?” she fake gasped.

“Yes, you.”

“Whatever could I have done to make you hide away all day.”

His face went dark, a large hand reaching out onto one of the girl’s thighs. She gasped for real this time, biting down on her lip to suppress it as best she could. But he was out for blood tonight, running his fingers further up until she held her breath. Then he dug his nails in, making her wince, just to push her legs apart before him with a satisfied sigh from both of them.

As he spoke, his fingers toyed with her panties, running the pads of each digit over the material and watching her struggle to listen to him.

“I had no choice but to come in here… especially once I saw you.” He started explaining, his teasing slow. “Being around you, in that dress, with so many people watching. It was dangerous.”

Her breathing was getting quicker as he played around with the fabric of her thong, pulling at it every now and then to see the way she writhed under his touch.

“The things I’ve been picturing in my head all day… they’re filthy darling.” He hissed, barely moving from his seat as he gazed up at her desperate eyes. “That dress does things for me, and it was getting hard to be around you with such a hard-on.” Fred said bluntly, not caring to dance around the subject.

“Do you want to know those things y/n?” He asked, pushing the chair away with a screech as he stood to face her head on, still gripping the material that pressed against her dripping cunt.

“Yes.” She breathed out, her chest rising with each movement he made. He raised his eyebrows at her.

“Again.” “Yes… sir.” “Good girl.” He cooed, ripping her thong with one harsh tug.

The moan she let out was beautiful to hear, amazed that he was willing to do anything to have her for himself. She loved this side of Fred, the side that let go and gave her his all. The one that fucked her until she limped around the loft all day afterwards.

The man’s finger toyed at her entrance, feeling the wetness that had pooled just at his explicit words. It was about to get even wetter, he thought.

“I wanted to lift that pretty little skirt up, right there behind the counter-” She was already whimpering beneath him. “-where anyone could walk by and catch us. I wanted to bend you over and push my cock deep inside your pussy… until you could taste it.” She whined aloud, crumbling beneath his touch as he delved that one finger deep inside her.

It was bitter sweet, such a sense of relief at finally feeling him inside her again, but she craved more of him… all of him.

“Please s-sir.” The girl begged, locking eyes with him as he smirked down at her.

“You want more, baby?” He asked, and she nodded impatiently. “How badly?”

“I’ve been dreaming of you… I-I was getting really desperate.”

“You’ve been a good girl, waiting this long, I suppose you deserve a treat.” He grinned again, revelling as she widened her eyes when he dropped to his knees, both of his hands prizing her thighs apart with great force.

“Freddie?” She asked, gulping at the kisses he placed up her legs. But the man gave her no response. “Sir?”

Instead he let his tongue run along her slit, pushing deeper when she physically jolted at the contact.

“Hmm?” He hummed, sending a ripple of vibrations through her… the moans she made were to die for.

“It’s s-so… so.”

“So what?” He asked, pulling his head away for less than a second before he dived back in, entranced by the taste of her dripping core. His constant groans of pleasure made it clear that he wasn’t giving it up until she’d come at least three times.

“Ah!” She cried out, pulling on his hair to find some balance. The man just groaned deeper, pushing her closer and closer to her edge. “It’s so good!” Her head was thrown back in carnal desire, her tits pressed to the sky as she arched her back.

Fred’s deep eyes gazed up, beyond pleased with the sight before him.

“You taste divine.” He didn’t let up on the pleasure, pushing two fingers inside her pussy as his tongue continued to lap up the juices that threatened to fall from between her thighs.

The girl screamed as her core tightened up into a bundle of nerves, fit to burst. Her fingers gripped tighter on the man’s hair, pushing him closer into her cunt as she uncontrollably thrust herself against him, chasing her high.

He could have cum right on the spot when he felt the wave against his face, her screams enough to tell him that she had never felt this good before. But he had many more plans for her, most of them needing him to be rock hard, so he did all he could to hold back.

The juices dripped from his chin as he looked up at her, slumped against the desk in blissful defeat.

“You’re not done.” He growled, grabbing her body and pulling against his own. She melted beneath his touch, already climbing the high again just as he kissed her neck, leaving little bites behind as he replayed the squirts of her pussy in his mind.

“I want it sir.” The girl begged, her hands gripping his shoulders.

“I bet you do.” He drawled, his voice thick and hypnotic.

“P-please,”

Fred leant back, letting go of her and smirking when she whined out. He watched her intently as he undid his trousers, taking his time on the belt so she would be even less patient with him. He wanted her wound up for him.

The man’s cock was huge, that she already knew, but somehow it still made her gasp on sight. Just the idea that in a few moments he would be sliding it deep inside her made the girl pant out in desire.

Fred just smirked, holding his girth in one large hand. The tip slid against her folds, dragging across where she whined out for him to plunge into. But he wanted her to go crazy for it.

The girl wasn’t far off it, her legs desperately wrapping round his body in an attempt to drag him closer, but the man was much stronger than she. He chuckled lowly.

“Talk to me… if you really want it.”

“You know I want it.” Y/n moaned out, throwing her head back as he poked the tip against her one more time, pressing further inside just to stretch her, only to take it all away again.

He leant across the desk, taking her head in his hands, and brought the girl up to face him. Her body pressed against his half open shirt, skin crawling as she longed for him to pound into her like he had done before she’d been hurt. It felt like years since then.

Fred pressed kisses onto her neck again, trailing up to her ear, just for him to whisper seductively.

“Who do you belong to?” “You… freddie.” Then she smiled sweetly, meeting eyes with the man who held her at his will.

That smile fell as soon as he pushed his cock all the way inside her, the tension building within her finally releasing now that she had what she wanted.

“Good answer,” He groaned out, making sure she felt him right up to the hilt before he began relentlessly thrusting in and out.

The sounds were loud, and filthy, and drove the pair mad as they moaned out for each other. Y/n gripped onto him, needing to be held down as she writhed beneath the man.

Fred was chasing even more as he fucked her, desperate to make her clench over and over just to feel the restricting tightness of her pussy. It was insatiable.

“You wanna be a good girl for me?” He asked her, his pace unstoppable as he held her shoulders down, flexing his arms deliciously in the process.

The girl just nodded up at him, her eyes still as innocent as ever.

“Then turn around… on your knees.” He held a hand to her throat, almost inspecting the hickeys strewn across her skin.

She obliged, giving up the full feeling for only a few moments before Fred settled himself behind her, lining up his cock and gaining an ever deeper thrust now that she was bent over for him.

“Good girl.” He groaned out between moans, struggling to hold on at this angle. The girl was just so fucking tight.

“Freddie, I-I’m gonna cum!” She screamed out, her fingers gripping at the desk’s edge as it shook beneath them. Fred saw it as a challenge, if he were to break that table just from the sheer act of fucking his girlfriend on it, that would be his life fulfilled.

It took a few harsh smacks to the girl’s ass to get her even tighter, tight enough that Fred was growling out and pushing to his absolute limit within her. The girl screamed, no doubt loud enough that even people in the leaky would be concerned.

But the man just grinned, seeing it as a perfect accomplishment as he bottomed out with a deep groan, his cum spurting inside her pussy and squeezing out when he slowed to a stop.

He had all but forgotten the challenge to break the desk until he lifted the girl off it to sit in his lap, and it groaned before them. She looked at him with wide eyes, scared that he would be mad when it seemed to slope to one side, but Fred was already chuckling to himself.

“Sorry baby.” She giggled.

“Never, ever apologise… that w-was… oh fuck.” He leaned his head all the back off the chair, rubbing her thighs mindlessly. He was beyond dazed.

That was it. His life couldn’t get much better.

-

The sun shone down over the sand, warming everyone’s skin as they touched it. It had been a last minute decision to go, one sunny friday afternoon. The boys had closed up the shop early, urging the girl to pack a bag for the cove.

Ginny and Harry had dropped everything to join them, telling Hermione that she needed a break just this once. No one did figure out how Ron knew they were there, playing by the water like a big family, he had just turned up unannounced with a few crates of beer.

The group had shared a guilty look when they realised the youngest brother had been forgotten amongst their spontaneous excitement, Hermione most of all, who expected to never hear the end of it from her needy fiance.

But maybe it was the good weather that made him forget it after a moment, quick to charm the beers so they kept cool throughout the afternoon.

The sun had begun to set, the water glistening in it’s last few moments of light, the two couples playing in the water together like the kids they had never been.

Freddie propped himself up against a tree trunk, stroking y/n’s hair as she splayed it out across his lap, her face pointing up to the leaves above. Her book had been long forgotten, the idea of a nap amongst the soft background noise much more appealing.

The man looked over at George, who was of course drunk and half-asleep on the sand, sporting a sunburn in the shape of his sunglasses. He was mumbling to himself, something about quidditch and food, and of course all the girls he’d dated back at Hogwarts.

The girl in Fred’s lap stirred, facing him with a sleepy squint.

“You alright?” He asked, his fingers toying around with the t-shirt she wore.

“Of course.” The faint sound of Ginny falling into the cove’s water echoed around them.

It was truly something special, having the people they loved in their own little haven. On the little jetty sat Bill and Fleur, a girl he had met a couple days prior. Y/n had insisted that he bring her, telling the man that any woman would appreciate such a gracious invite.

Turns out, Bill not beating around the bush with her had paid off, and they sat together with joined hands, watching the sunset in their little bubble.

“He’s happy with her.” Y/n told her boyfriend, smiling at them.

“I’m glad, he deserves it.”

Fred looked down, seeing her eyes shine back up at him. He had fought for her all this time, and it would never fail to amaze him just how lucky he was to even get that chance. He had her, that was all that would ever matter.

“Never leave me.” He smiled, cupping her face with his hands.

“You could never make me go.”

“He did, they did.” The man dropped at the memory, sick of his mind telling him how he could have prevented him.

“Theo Nott will never hurt me again, I promise that.” She smiled, holding him close.

“How can you now, for sure? Aren’t you worried about him… coming back for you?”

“Something tells me he’s off somewhere, entertaining other options.”

Those words of hers hadn’t made much sense to Fred, but then again why would it, Y/n had vowed never to show him the letter. He would never understand the way she did, but she didn’t need him to.

-

Dear y/n,

I hope that this reaches you before anyone else finds it, as I believe that it would be burnt on arrival. Not that I should blame whomever would do so, I cannot imagine you are thrilled to be hearing from me at all.

But I needed to tell you this, I wanted you to know that you were right. I tried for months to hate you, to damn your name for going into my mind and seeing the past, but the hate got me nowhere. I was a mildly troubled teenager and I let myself spiral into a damaged man, however, I hope you will be pleased to learn that I am doing all I can to reform myself.

I hope that from looking into my mind you will somewhat understand my pain, and know that it is not something I can fix at the drop of a hat. So I moved away from anything that reminded me of her, of who I was, of the man that I never wanted to be.

Now I’m living in Italy, alone, doing my best to enjoy life just one day at a time. I am blessed to have such a chance to do so. But I can thank only you for that.

You told me to find someone who loves me, and I remembered your words ever since I left you there. I had an insider keep tracks on you for a while, purely to make sure you are okay.

I would have never forgiven myself if you had not survived, but even now I have difficulty looking in the mirror at myself knowing what I did to you. I try not to dwell on what I may have done if things had gone my way.

Words will never express how sorry I am, but I promise you I will never grace you or any of your family with my presence again. That is all I can do to hope that you live without fear.

I have someone here for me, a woman whom I am beginning to fall in love with, so I presume I will unlikely leave this country again unless she is at my side. I assure you she is already making me a better man than I ever could have done alone.

But you are truly to thank.

So, thank you… and forever sorry.

Theodore Nott

-

The girl’s eyes were so bright as she smiled, and Freddie melted beneath it… her angel smile. She was more than he could have asked for. He was her rock, the man who had helped her live a free life.

As the sun disappeared behind the surrounding forest, the small group in the water waded out onto the sand, collapsing in defeat and chatting quietly. George woke from his sleep, a miracle quite honestly, and stumbled over to them to light a fire with his wand.

The shrieks were enough to alert Bill and Fleur, only for a brief second, as the other twin narrowly missed lighting Harry’s hair on fire. He mumbled an apology, his grin just as wide as ever, and slumped down in between them.

Y/n snuggled into Fred’s side, watching them all smile and drink together. They were her family, he was her family. She had never realised how much she needed family until she met them, now she understood just how important they all were to her.

The twins had been her saviours when she had nowhere else to go, and she would be forever grateful. The girl thought over Theo’s words, glad that he had found solace within himself just as she had with Fred.

They were roommates, but now they were so much more.

-

taglist:

@hufflrpuffforfred​

@a--1--1--3​

@lilypad-55449​

[lil-writer-cosmic]

Not as bad as you thought

Fred Weasley x reader

Author’s note:  You may find some grammatical or spelling mistakes. English isn't my first language so don't hesitate to tell me if I made a mistake. Feedback, comments, likes and reblogs are appreciated !

Summary: You want to break up with Fred

Warnings: none

Word count: 1.7k

You had met Fred a few days before you started hooking up. It had happened fast, way too fast. Flirting was a fun game, you were quite good at it, but it was a game. It was entertaining. You could flirt with everyone, not catch feelings and go back to your life the next day, and you were completely okay with it since the persons playing this game with you were on the same page. Once you were done flirting they wouldn't run after you, so you were safe. But not this time. Fred and you were flirting, and after a few days, he made a move. His confident nature had made you feel like you couldn't say no to this and ought to give it a try. What a mistake. You had tried. You wanted so bad to finally fall in love and experience what everyone talked about, what you had read about so many times. Everyone around you seemed to find someone and you felt so alone sometimes. Sure, you had declined many boys' feelings, but you were getting tired of it. Why couldn't you like them back? Why were you always falling for people that weren't sharing your feelings? Fred was fun, outgoing, far from ugly, so you thought 'Why not? We are not in a book. Love at first sight doesn't exist. It may come with time, so let's try."

The first few days were fun, you were laughing, talking about everything, which wasn't complicated considering the fact that both of you could go on for hours, even if you were talking to a wall. But you had realized a little too late that what you were enjoying was the attention he gave you. You liked your reflection in his eyes, you enjoyed knowing that he liked you, but you didn't like him back. As hard as you had tried, time wasn't making you love him more than at the beginning. It was frustrating. You wanted to fall in love. Sure, you felt closer to him because you learned to know him, but it would have been the same if you were friends. Being in a relationship implied more than friends. Kissing him was okay, but it wasn't making you feel things. It was like those times when you kissed strangers at parties because of the alcohol. Every time you regretted it, but it wasn't a big deal because the next day you would laugh it off and everything was back to normal. It was actually one of the reasons why you had stopped drinking so much, so you wouldn't feel this miserable after the party. Fortunately, you were still the life of the party with less alcohol in your system. The issue was, you were sober when it started with Fred. You couldn't blame it on the alcohol. You had to blame it on yourself. You had made a mistake, and you were acting like a coward about it. A Gryffindor scared to break up with someone, how pathetic.

After a month you knew that you had to put an end to it but you were too scared to do it, so you avoided him, saying that you weren't in a good mood, that you needed time alone. It was true, but you knew that it wouldn't fix anything. You wanted to break up with him, but you didn't know how. Being friends with him could have been fine, but the romantic part needed to go away. The fact that you were completely terrified at the idea of hurting him wasn't helping. It was obvious that he liked you a lot. He was the one always sending notes to you and planning stuff to see each other, which was suffocating you. As independent as you were, you felt trapped. You wanted to make him happy, you wanted to be happy, but pretending was taking its toll on you, so much that you started to be insufferable with everyone around you. So saying that you were in a bad mood wasn't exactly a lie. You had to break up with him, and you had to do it now.

Hermione, as much as she had read about it, was as inexperienced as you. She tried to help, and you were grateful, but you needed more pieces of advice. Thankfully, as the social butterfly that you are, you had other friends, more experienced ones, that helped a bit. You rehearsed with them how you wanted to end it with the redhead twin, trying out different ways to tell him, anticipating what he would say. It was almost fun, to be honest. It distracted you from the fear and anxiety creeping inside of your brain, invading every part of your body at the thought of really saying those things in the face of the nice boy. Because that was true. He was nice. And you were sure that if you were actually in love with him you would be incredibly happy. But you weren't. You weren't happy, you weren't in love. At first, it was okay, but it became too much. Every time he asked to see you, which was a daily occurrence, felt like a chore. Receiving sweet notes from him many times a day felt like being harassed. You hated those feelings, and the more you tried to ignore them, determined in your plan to finally develop feelings for him, the more they grew. Until it was too much. If you weren't in a romantic relationship, if you didn't see each other so often, you were sure that you could have been great friends. And it pained you.

During class, you sent him a note. You were sweating, your heart was beating incredibly fast, and seeing his happy face when he received the paper made you feel worse. Until he opened it, frowning.

"Meet me on the second floor at 7. We need to talk."

Thank god he didn't have the time to send you another note because the class ended. You rushed out to your herbology lesson, which he wasn't part of, making sure that he couldn't catch you in the hallway on your way there.

When you arrived early at the spot Fred was already waiting for you. Your heart dropped when you saw him standing with a rose in his hand. A fucking rose. Breaking up was going to be hard, but the fact that he had brought you a rose was making it harder. You wanted to hate him for it, but how could you? It was a sweet gesture. You walked towards him, a hundred thoughts rushing through your head. "Should I do this another day? He brought me a rose, I'm so going to hurt him." "Maybe I can try a little bit harder, maybe I was wrong." You pushed those thoughts aside, knowing that it was just the product of your immense fear. Being afraid of confrontation was positively a curse.

Fred kissed you quickly. You had talked about that with your friends. He always kissed you when you saw each other, and you asked your friends "Should I stop him? I am going to break up with him." They were quite adamant about it. You had to greet him the usual way. Stopping him would be too brutal, you could give him one last kiss. And that's what you did. You weren't too sure about that, but you kissed him. You felt like a fraud, it was actually painful. He handed you the rose, a small smile on his face.

"I know that you haven't been feeling well these last few days. Thought it could cheer you up."

Fucking hell. You thanked him, taking the flower, your eyes fixed on it as you tried to collect your strength. Yeah, you hadn't been feeling well, planning how to break up with someone wasn't easy. Hermione had held you whilst you cried in her arms the night before. You cared about the boy and knowing that you were possibly going to hurt him terrified you. You weren't a cold-hearted bitch, you appreciated him. He was incredibly sweet and nice. Nothing was wrong with him. You just had no romantic feelings for him. It could have been so much easier if you hated him. It could have been so much easier to break his heart and not give a damn about it.

"Listen, I.." Everything you had planned to say was now lost. "I don't have any feelings for you." You blurted out, fidgeting with the rose in your hands. To say that your heart was pounding in your chest was an understatement.

Holding his gaze was quite difficult considering how guilty you were feeling. He smiled softly, contrasting with the worry plastered on your face.

"I figured that's why you've been distant lately." Did he? Maybe he wasn't as oblivious as you thought.

"You know, me neither. Feelings come with time." He added.

It surprised you, that he did not have feelings for you. You thought he did. Maybe he was lying? Or had he fooled you as much as you had fooled him for the past month? You felt less nervous, a little bit at ease.

"I know, I thought this too but I really don't see you as anything else than a friend. I'm sorry, I should've realized this sooner. It's probably because we went so fast, I didn't get to truly know you."

He nodded. Surprisingly, this was going quite well. You had always heard about breakups as something full of screams and tears, but this was quite the opposite. It was a calm discussion between two persons not as immature as you thought. Maybe it was because one of you wasn't madly in love with the other. The fact that you had picked an empty hallway was also quite convenient.

"I don't have feelings for you but I still appreciate you. I hope we can still be friends." You said, the last part sounding more like a question.

"Yeah, I think that's possible." He answered, the same smile etched on his face.

You talked a bit more after that, and when you parted ways to join your friends in the library, it was with a lighter heart and quieter head. Breaking up wasn't pleasant, but it wasn't half as terrible as you thought. This first try at a relationship was obviously a huge fail. Nevertheless, you were thankful that it had been with someone as kind and understanding as Fred.

[accio-moony]

Not My Type || George Weasley x Reader Angst/Fluff

Request: { @jxsminedrxgon​ asked @eleven-times-lively​: “Hi! I was wondering if I could get a George Weasley x transfer student (female) Ravenclaw angst that turns to fluff?”}

Word Count: ~6K [way too fucking long but I had originally planned more] [not completely proofread]

Summary: you’re a transfer student, new to Hogwarts, and a particular Weasley seems to be infatuated with you, and you deny it to yourself that you’re equally as infatuated. Jealousy makes you admit it to yourself, and eventually to him. [takes place during The Goblet of Fire/1994/George’s 6th year, but there is no tournament. There is quidditch as usual and there is a yule ball as if it is a yearly thing.]

WARNINGS: angst? Exploding potion, detention, idk

*not my gifs*

Being a transfer student is rarely easy, that’s for sure. It’s not often that someone jumps the pond, already knowing people on the other side. As you try not to scare yourself, you stare out the misty, wet window to the expansive hills flying by. Your father got a new job, which meant moving from North America to England. At your previous school, Ilvermorny, you were familiar with everything as you had gone there for the better part of the past five years. By second year, you knew the halls like the back of your hand, and you belonged to a group of friends within your house, Thunderbird. But now, as you ride the Hogwarts Express to your new school, you can’t help but feel nervous. Everything will be different, except that you’ll still be learning magic, something you were born into, and your parents were over the moon that you’d attend the same school they did — the school they met at. Until now.

Yet, now, as the train screeches to an eventual halt, everything is beyond your imagination. You aren’t quite sure what to expect, or what to do exactly, but you know you’ll keep to yourself and follow the rules. A new start isn’t necessarily so bad.

You stand on your toes, grab the handle of your new trunk, and haul it down, almost crushing yourself with its weight. You open the compartment door and check the halls for a clear spot to step out; they’re bustling with people greeting their friends and trying to get off the train first. As soon as an opening comes, you step into the corridor and struggle to drag your case and keep up with the crowd at the same time. The mild September heat engulfs you as you near the door of the train cart, and you can hear the shouts of other students as they scurry around in the rain.

As you step into the rain, you look at the world around you, finding a sign reading Hogsmead Station. You could’ve stood there all night, rain or shine, and taken in the new scenery, but the crowd jostled you along with them and towards some carriages. Many groups piled into the carriages together, still wrapped in conversation. You stood back, waiting for an empty one, and seized your moment when you saw one pulls forward, drawn by seemingly nothing. 

“Leave your trunk here, miss,” you hear a raspy voice from behind you. 

You turn to see an older man with many wrinkles and thin, messy grey hair standing next to a pile of hundreds of trunks. “Sorry, sir,” you apologize to him and give him your trunk. “I’m a transfer student.”

“Evidently,” he sneers at you, looking at you as though he smelled something fowl. 

“Right,” you say to yourself and run back to the carriages. The one that you were about to get on before being called for your trunk was now almost full. Quickly, you nutty up to the back and muster up all your courage to speak to them. “Excuse me?” You clear your throat, and the two boys who were sat turn to look at you. “May I- uh- may I ride with you?”

The girl in the wagon lifts her head finally, her bushy hair bouncing around her. “Oh, hi! Of course,” she smiles and motions to the seat in front of her. 

The two boys fall back into conversation as you sit down next to a tall red-headed boy. The girl had returned her head to be buried in the book she holds, and though you don’t want to be rude and interrupt her, you also don’t want to sit in awkward silence while the two boys talks loudly. “Uh, what’re you reading?” You ask, shyly.

She looks up at you, a big smiling growing on her face. “Oh, goodness. I like you already; these two gits never care for books.” She hands you the book, and you look over the colorful cover. “It’s called A Wrinkle in Time.” She explains. “It’s a muggle novel by Madeleine L’Engle.”

You look up at her, almost confused. “I don’t think I’ve ever met another witch who reads Muggle books,” you state.

“Oh, well,” she chuckles. “I’m muggle-born.” She almost shrinks, as if she’s scared of your reaction. 

“Oh, that’s awesome!” You smile, and hers returns.

“Oi!” The red-headed boy next to you calls, and you and the bushy-haired girl look over at him. “You’re from America aren’t you?”

“Oh, uh,” you scoff to yourself, knowing you should already be expecting this question. “Yeah, I am.”

“Is this your first year at Hogwarts?” The girl asks. 

“Yeah, it is.”

“Welcome! I’m Hermione Granger. This is Ronald Weasley,” she motions to the redhead next to you, “and Harry Potter.”

“It’s wonderful to meet you guys. I’m Y/n Y/l/n.”

“You can call me Ron, by the way,” says the redhead. “Hermione and my mum are the only ones who call me Ronald.” You nod.

“And fair warning: my older brothers — they’re twins and loud so you can’t miss them — anyway, I’m pretty sure George has a thing for American girls.”

“Great.”

When the carriage rounds the next corner, a castle beyond what you could dream of glows against a lake and mountains. Your jaw drops as you look up at it.

“It’s truly beautiful,” says Hermione. “You’ll get used to it soon enough though.”

“I’m not sure I want to get used to it,” you say, still awe-struck until you realize how that may have sounded rude. “I mean — it’s so amazing I could look at it forever. I never want to feel used to something like this and not be in awe every time I see it.”

The boys look at you with blank looks on their faces. 

“Sorry, that didn’t make any sense.”

“I know what you mean,” Hermione places a hand on your arm. “The first years take little boats across the lake to the castle for their sorting ceremony. And now that I think of it, I wonder if you should’ve gone with them. That’s okay though, I’ll introduce you to Professor McGonagall — she handles the ceremony every year.”

Hermione stays to her word, and once the four of you have dismounted the carriage, the boys go ahead of you two, and Hermione walks with you to the front doors of the castle. “What year are you, Y/n?” She asks you as you both walk up the stone steps.

“Uh, sixth,” you say.

“Oh, goodness,” she laughs. “What?” You say, on the verge of panicking.

“Ron, Harry, and I are fourth,” she says simply. “But Fred and George — Ron’s brothers — they’re sixth years.” She looks up at you and raises an eyebrow suggestively.

“Oh, great,” you sigh.

“Professor!” She calls when the two of you cross the threshold. 

An older woman with grey hair tucked under a large witch’s hat turns toward her, her emerald green robes falling down her tall figure.

“Welcome back, Miss Granger!” Her sharp tone intimidating but still welcoming. “Is there something you need help with, dear?”

“Oh, not me, Professor. This is Y/n Y/l/n. It’s her first year at Hogwarts — a transfer student.”

“Yes, of course,” she smiles warmly. “Welcome, Miss Y/l/n. You can stay here with me until the ceremony begins. Hermione, dear, go take your seat.”

“Yes, ma’am,” she smiles and turns on her heals, beginning to walk away.

“Hermione?” You call after her, and she turns back to you. “Could I borrow that book when you finish it?”

“Of course!” She says, her smile wide enough to tear her cheeks. 

After the main herd of students had filed into the Great Hall, a much smaller group of students enters the Entrance Hall, though they may have seen like a much smaller group not only because there were fewer of them, but also because they were smaller children, especially next to the very large bushy man accompanying them. You follow them and Professor McGonagall into the Great Hall and listen to her introduction speech.

After several moments, she stands next to the old hat, which then tells a poem through the rip in the brim. 

“We’ll start with our transfer student,” she smiles down at you, and you straighten your posture. “Miss Y/l/n, if you will take a seat.”

You walk to the front of the group and sit on the short stool in front of the podium. The hat lowers onto your head, and you can hear it humming as it thought.

Next to Ron, at the Gryffindor table, Fred and George look at you, and then between themselves, then back to you. “Wicked,” they say in a unison that would make it seem like they share a brain. 

“RAVENCLAW!” The hat bellows through the hall.

“Damn,” the twins say together, and look down at their plates in identical movements, the trio also seeming disappointed. Though Fred and George aren’t going to give up that easily — at least George isn’t going to give up that easily that is, and he drags Fred along with him through everything, not that Fred ever minds.

Once the feast is over, and you’re following the other Ravenclaws to the common room, you almost run into two people, when they practically suddenly appear in front of you, having been running and then suddenly stopping. You look up as you stumble so as to not physically run into them. You’re met with the faces of two identical boys, both of them with shoulder-length, shaggy red hair, and you conclude to yourself that they must be Ron’s older twin brothers.

“You’re the new girl,” one twin says matter-of-factly. 

You nod and plaster a painfully obvious fake smile onto your face.

“I’m Fred,” says the other twin, gesturing to himself. “And this is my less attractive brother, George.”

Despite your best efforts, as you look back and forth between the two boys in front of you, noting the subtle differences so you can tell them apart, you can’t help but think how handsome they both are, and undeniably charming. You have to remind yourself that you’re not a social person, at least not yet to those at Hogwarts, and you’d like to keep your head down and out of trouble. 

“Hi,” you entertain them. “I’m Y/n.”

“Pleasure,” George cheerily bows before you.

You giggle, not being able to stop yourself. “The pleasure is mine,” you smile and give an equally cheesy curtsy.

“Say, how do you feel about Quidditch, Y/n?” Fred asks.

“I love Quidditch!” You pipe. “I was a Chaser for my house back at Ilvermorny.”

“Well, George and I play,” Fred explains, George being left quiet, almost seeming suddenly shy. “We’re Gryffindor’s Beaters. And we heard that Ravenclaw is short a Chaser.”

Your face lights up, excited by the opportunity for a familiar past time.

“You should ask Flitwick,” George finally speaks again. “He’s head of the Ravenclaw house.”

“And the Charms Professor,” Fred continues. 

“Well, thank you for the heads up then, boys,” you smile, and walk off after the rest of your house without another word.

Next day, the first day of term, you end up having a Charms class with both of the Weasley twins. You notice the two of them turn and pay attention to you as you walk up to Professor Flitwick. 

“Professor Flitwick?” You call, standing politely behind him. 

The extremely short man turns to you. “Ah, yes,” he claps his hands together. “Miss Y/l/n, welcome to Hogwarts and to the Ravenclaw house!”

“Thank you, sir,” you smile. 

“How can I help you?”

“Well,” you start. “I got a tip from someone that one of the Chaser positions for the house team is open. I was wondering if I could try out for the spot? I was a Chaser at Ilvermorny.”

“Oh no need to try out, dear. No one else seems to want it. It’s yours!”

“Wow, ok. Thank you, Professor.”

You turn and take a seat at one of the desk rows across the room from the twins, but closer to the front of the room, closer to the blackboard. You pull your reading glasses out of your bag along with your Charms book and quill. You put your wand neatly in front of you on the desk, and your ink pot in the corner of your area. 

Professor Flitwick clears his throat from the front of the room as he climbs onto a stack of books to be well seen by the students. You slide you glasses up your nose, quickly glancing at the twins, subconsciously hopping that they’ll have already been looking at you, but they were huddled into a small group with another Gryffindor boy in a deep discussion. 

As class begins, and Professor Flitwick explains what to expect from this term, the boys don’t break their herd until their names are called loudly by the shrill voice of the Professor.

“If both Misters Weasley and Mister Jordan would pay attention,” he called them out, quickly pulling their attention to the front. “While I know that the first day of class is usually the most boring, if you pay attention, it will save from questions you will have later.”

Fred, George and their friend turned to the front for just a moment, but as soon as Professor Flitwick had turned to find the papers he was going to hand out — well float out — the boys turned back to their huddle and continued their conversation like nothing had happened. 

“Detention, Mister Fred and George Weasley, and Mister Lee Jordan,” the Professor called, without even turning to see that they were back to talking. “And 10 points from Gryffindor —“

The Gryffindor students, including the group of three that have just cost their house points, groan loudly as they start the term with negative points. 

“— each,” Professor Flitwick finishes, and the groaning becomes louder. 

One student on the opposite end of the class threw something across the room at the three boys, an apple that Professor Flitwick caught with a simple flick of his wand and returned to the students desk. 

“Detention for you, too, Miss Johnson.”

For the remainder of class, you did your best to pay attention to the lesson, but found it increasingly difficult. While the boys kept the talking to a minimum, you could feel George’s eyes on you the whole time. The moment Professor Flitwick dismisses class, you gather all your belongings in a handful — something you never do due to the level of unorganizedness — and bolt from the room, but not quick enough. 

“Oi, Y/n!” You heard the twins call after you in unison, and sigh as you politely stop and turn to them with a half smile. 

The events of the last hour and a half had left you disappointed to say the least. After your encounter with the twins after the feast the night before, you had begun to think maybe befriending them wouldn’t be such a bad thing, but seeing them not pay attention in class and get disciplined on the first day of term harmed your hopes, though you weren’t going to start being rude to them.

“Hello, boys,” you greet them as they approach you. 

“Say,” Fred begins, “we were wondering if you’d like to do our Charms homework?”

George remained silent once again as you gave them both a look of astonishment. 

“Absolutely not!” You scoffed, changing your mind slightly on the ‘not being ride the them’.

“You’re our only Ravenclaw friend,” he continues, “and with Quidditch and planning, we hardly have time to eat and sleep, so we thought we’d at least try.”

“Fred thought,” George corrects him, and Fred subtly nudges him with his elbow. 

“I don’t mean to be rude,” you say softly, “but we’re not friends. We only met twelve hours ago, and now that I’ve seen the way you two are, I’m not sure I would consider becoming friends with you.”

“What do you mean, ‘the way you two are’?” Fred laughs. “We’re two fine lads if I do say so myself.”

“Fred,” George says, almost pleading.

“Y/n!” Another voice calls behind you, and you wonder how there are already so many people who know you. You turn away from the boys and down the hall to see the trio you met on the carriage marching down the corridor. “I finished the book,” Hermione smiles at you and pulls the book out of her bag, handing it over to you.

“Thank you, Hermione!” You smile. “I’ll be sure to give it back once I’m done. Shouldn’t be too long.”

“No worries.” “Say, George,” Ron says, looking quizzically behind you. “You’re awfully quiet; are you feeling okay?”

“It’s nothing,” George mutters and leaves to walk down the hall, almost at a jog.

Fred winks at you before following his twin, and you turn back to the trio blushing.

“Don’t let those two morons bother you, Y/n,” Hermione assures you, putting a hand on your forearm kindly.

“I’ve never seen anyone make George nervous before — much less quiet,” Ron admits. “You must be one hell of a girl in his eyes.”

“Uh, yeah,” you mutter, looking down at your black flats against the beautiful stone floors as you shyly rub the back of your neck. “I’ve got to get to my next lesson,” you smile to the three fourth years. “I’ll see you guys later.” Without waiting for a response from the group you continue down the hall, but stop at the corner before turning it and look back over your shoulder in time to see Ron shrug at something Hermione said as they enter the Charms classroom.

Fred and George end up being in several of your classes, including Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts. One fall morning, on your way down to the dungeons for Potions, you hear the two familiar and almost identical voices talking outside the hall. Before you could turn the corner and see them, you hear your name being mentioned.

“It’s obvious you like Y/n, George,” Fred says.

You stop in your tracks behind the corner, thinking about how throughout the term so far, Fred and George have been restless. You’ve witness their pranks and loud jokes. During Quidditch games, Fred forces the bludgers at you, nearly knocking you off every time. The one time he actually managed to, George quickly flew down to the ground to see if you were okay, but you rolled your eyes as you got up with Hermione’s help. “Fuck off, Weasley,” you had jeered at him as you stumbled off the pitch and towards Madame Pomfrey to be cleared to continue the game. Once you were cleared, you worked harder than you had before at Hogwarts, and though Harry caught the snitch, Ravenclaw was only two goals away from having won without the snitch. You feel a bit bad about having told him to ‘fuck off’ when he didn’t do anything wrong, but you’re also mad that Fred thinks that’s a suitable way to get your attention. 

“Well, no shit, Sherlock,” George scoffs at his brother, still out of your line of sight. “How could I not? She’s the most gorgeous person I’ve ever seen. She’s smart and funny and dorky and adorable and everything I’d ever want. Her being good at Quidditch is always a plus, but because the move you pulled at the game last week, she’s bound to still be mad at me.”

“Make it up to her then!” Fred protests. “I’ve seen the way she looks at you — like you’re an idiot, but a handsome idiot, you know?”

“Thanks?”

“You just have to try, brother. You’re the George Weasley, you can do anything you want.”

“Whatever,” he sighs and you hear footsteps retreat down the corridor.

You take this as your signal to stop hiding, to stop ease-dropping, and go to class. You quickly turn the corner and hurry into the Potions room, finding everyone standing around the room instead of in seats. 

“What’s going on?” You ask a fellow Ravenclaw girl. 

“New partner assignment, I think,” she explains, without really even looking up at you, keeping her nose in the Potions book, turned to the page which you assume is what today’s lesson will be, though you can’t see what the title of the page is.

“Quiet!” Professor Snape’s deep nasally voice echos through the dungeon over the loud conversations of the students, effectively quieting them.”You have new partners as of today,” he said, then began to call out last names in pairs.

“Y/l/n,” he calls, then pauses to think of who to pair you with. “Weasley,” he decides, and you swallow the lump in your throat.

“Which one?” Fred pipes from across the room.

“I don’t care,” he says, then continues to pair off students.

You quickly take a seat at a desk in the second row, waiting for whichever twin to join you, but you had a feeling it would be George because of what you just heard in the hall.

“Hi, Y/n,” he says as he takes the seat next to you.

“Hi, George,” you say with a smile, but don’t look up from your Potions book to look at him.

“How’d you know I’m George and not Fred?” He says, and this time you do look up at him.

“Uh,” you hesitate, “gut feeling?”

“A Befuddlement Draught,” Snape begins as George sits down next to you and slouches back in his chair. You try not to pay attention to George and his demeanor, comparing it to your own, instead of paying attention to Professor Snape’s pre-lesson speech. “Is a potion that causes the drinker to become belligerent and reckless.” He looks between the Weasley twins. “The ingredients are scurry grass, lovage, and sneezewort.”

You wrote quickly as he spoke, taking notes to help you with studying and homework later. George looked at you, then pulled our his own piece of parchment, but he wasn’t writing notes. He wanted to seem like he was, but really he was righting a sort of journal entry about how beautiful he thinks you are, so paying attention even less than if he wasn’t “taking notes”.

“These plants are most efficacious in the inflaming of the brain,” Snape continues, and you recognize his words as a passage from the Potions book you had read to get ahead. “And are therefore much used in Confusing and Befuddlement Draughts, where the wizard is desirous of producing hot-headedness and recklessness.”

You laugh to yourself slightly, just loud enough for only George to hear, and he quickly looks up at you at the beautiful sound. 

“What’s so funny?” He whispers.

You hesitate a moment while you smile to yourself. “You wouldn’t need this potion to be reckless, would you, Weasley?”

His face turns beat red, and as you look over at him, he quickly folds his piece of parchment and stuffs it into his bag haphazardly.

“You will be making this today,” Professor Snape said, waving his wand at the blackboard, making the chalk write the instructions on its own. “It is nearly impossible to mess up.” He looked around the room down his long nose, examining every student. He sees your readiness and eagerness to start, and he notes the twins lack of interest as they look across the dungeon at each other mouthing in conversation. Snape rolls up the papers in his hand and walks towards you and George’s desk. He lifts the parchment and brings it down rough on George’s head and making you gasp while he looks sternly at Fred. “Get started.”

You tie your hair up effortlessly, and George can’t help but notice how beautiful and natural you look. Then as you walk off to go get the ingredients listed on the board and in the book, he looks after you longingly, following you like a lost puppy as he grabs random ingredients from the shelves.

When you come back, you slide your house robe off your shoulders and drape it over your chair, getting to work as you roll up the sleeves of your jumper. 

“Are you going to let me help?” George asks.

You look at him, silent for a moment as you think. “Are you going to actually help, or blow it up like every other potion you and your brother make.”

“I’d like to actually help.”

“Okay then, would you put the sneezewort into the cauldron?” You ask him politely. 

He picks up an ingredient, not paying quite enough attention to what and holds it over the cauldron as he looks over your book. 

“George, no!” You yell and reach out to grab his arm. “That’s —“ but it was too late. 

George had dropped what he was holding into the pot, and it immediately blew up. You screamed as you covered yourself with your arms and ducked, but George was too shocked by his own action to react, and his face was left covered in dirt. 

You stand back up and look over at him. “That was an Erumpent horn!” You exclaim. George looks down at his hands, not knowing what to say. The clicking of boots fills the dungeon as everyone had gone silent and was staring at the two of you. You look up and see Professor Snape approaching you. 

“You’re quite right, Miss Y/l/n,” Snape says, and you blush deeply. “Maybe you should have been watching him more carefully.”

“I thought I was, I thought I could trust him,” you mutter, more to yourself than anyone else. 

“50 points from Gryffindor,” he sneers, and you jerk your head to look at George, who’s face is almost expressionless. “And Ravenclaw as well.”

“But sir —“ you begin. 

“And detention, Saturday evening.” 

Your jaw drops, practically hitting the floor. You had never gotten points taken from your house before, much less gotten in trouble. 

“For now, there is no coming back from this mistake,” Snape looks at George intently. “You are both excused from the rest of the class.”

Without thinking much, you shove George with both your hands, and he stumbles backwards, watching after you as you grab your bag and hurry out of the room. He’s frozen in his spot a moment, until Snape clears his throat. George grabs his own belongings and hurries after you.

“Y/n!” He calls when he gets into the hall, but you’re already turning the corner without even a glance back at him. 

Later that evening, at supper, you sit alone at the Ravenclaw table with a book, but you weren’t paying much attention to it, rather just staring at the page as you push the food around on your plate. 

“Oi, Angelina,” you hear a familiar voice call, and look up to see the twins looking down the Gryffindor table at one of the house chasers. You see George as he reaches across the table towards her. “Will you go to the ball with me?” 

You barely hear him from where you’re sitting, but you hear him enough and can read his lips enough to know he said it. Your eyes shift over to Hermione, who’s looking across the tables to you. Your mouth thins into a line as you fight back the tears, though you know they shouldn’t be there. Not knowing what else to do, and not wanting anyone else to notice your dismay, you grab your book up and leave the Great Hall.

You’re already on the grand marble staircase when you hear Hermione, Ron, and Harry all call after you. You don’t stop and pick up your pace. 

“Y/n, please!” You hear Hermione call, and you can’t help but stop. 

You turn around and wipe the tear off your cheek.

“Why are you crying?” She asks as she pulls you into a hug.

“Why would he do that?” You snuffle out. 

“I don’t know,” Ron says. “He’s so infatuated with you, I couldn’t believe it. But I thought you despised him?”

“He got me detention, I do despise him,” you say, but continue, “did — I did despise him. At least I thought I did.” You slump down and sit on the staircase with your head in your hands. Hermione its next to you and sets hand on your back. “He’s really not my type of person. I’ve never been in trouble before! And he’s constantly in trouble! I don’t know what it is about him. He’s handsome and funny, and I’m only now realizing it, but I can’t help but like him. Merlin, I’m so stupid.”

“You are not stupid,” Harry says. “He’s stupid.” “That’s not news, mate,” Ron says. 

“Well, yeah,” Harry says, “but we didn’t know he was this stupid.”

You sniffle a laugh at his words and look up at him, only, you notice a pair of fiery red hair, just like Ron’s, standing in the corridor behind Harry.

You swallow the lump in your throat and quickly run up the rest of the stairs, sprinting to the Ravenclaw tower. 

“I—“ George begins from behind Ron, but doesn’t know what to say and just closes his mouth.

“You’re fucking stupid,” Ron scoffs at his older brother and turns and walks away with Hermione and Harry. 

George looks over to Fred, who’s face reflects the same disbelief as his own.

That night, for the first time, you didn’t touch your homework, but instead went straight to bed and cried yourself to sleep. 

When Saturday’s detention rolled around, you arrived early as is normal for you. Snape let you start on the task he decided to assign you for detention. You were to go through one box of old discipline reports before you could leave. You sat in the corner of the room and pulled the lid off a box, beginning to sort it. It wasn’t long until George joined, but Snape gave him a rag and told him to clean all the desks. George sighed, and Snape walked out of the room. 

You could feel George’s eyes on you from where he stood unmoved. 

“Y/n,” he beings. “I’m sorry.”

You refuse to even look at him as you give him the silent treatment. 

“I shouldn’t have been so cocky with the potion,” he continues. “I just wanted to seem like I knew what I was doing.”

You remained silent as you shifted through the box. 

Throughout the unnecessary hour George was taking to wipe down the tables, he continued to try and apologize or make conversation, but you still ignored him.

When you finished the file box, you closed the lid and pulled out a bit of parchment. You put the box on Snape’s desk, along with a note offering to continue to file to earn back the points you had lost the House, and you leave the room without a word. 

“Y/n!” George calls down the dungeon corridor, his voice echoing off the stone walls. 

You don’t respond and keep walking, but you hear his heavy footsteps running closer to you, until you feel a hand wrap around your wrist, sending sparks through your skin. You snatch your hand back instinctively, but he holds his grip

“Don’t touch me, Weasley,” you say punctuated. 

“Why won’t you talk to me?” He asks, almost yelling. 

“You’re not good, George Weasley,” you shout back. “Never have I ever gotten in trouble before. But you made me get detention! You don’t study, you don’t pay attention, you probably don’t even think! Please, just leave me alone.”

You twist your wrist from his grasp and turn up the stairs, walking away from him again.

You managed to avoid him for the most part, besides Potions, where you just refused to talk to him. 

One day, a few weeks after your detention, you’re sitting in the court yard wrapped in a blanket, leaning against a pillar as you read in the snow. You’re the only person in the courtyard, but you liked it that way. People had started congregating inside because of the cold, and the library and common room had become too crowded. 

You hear a group of feet crushing snow as they walk towards you, but you don’t look up, too enveloped in your book. 

“Hey, Y/l/n!” A cold voice jest. “What’s you doing out here all alone?”

You look up to see the school bully, Draco Malfoy laughing at you with his posse. He loved poking fun at everyone outside of the Slytherin house. 

“I’m reading,” you smile. “You should try it sometime. Maybe you’ll learn how not to be such an ass.” Your voice remains steady and polite as you speak. 

“How dare you!” He announces, and reaches towards you, pulling your blanket off of you, leaving you cold.

“Give it back!” You demand. 

“No.”

You open your mouth to speak, but a flare of red light comes over your shoulder and hits Draco in the chest, sending him several feet backwards, your blanket still in hand. The caster walks out from behind you and over to Draco on the ground. He pulls the blanket out of Draco’s grasp with difficulty, but kicks him in the side to get him to let go. Draco cries out in pain, his friends bustling away.

The caster turns towards you, and you see the red hair poking out from under his beanie, and the familiar face. George.

“Here,” he says softly, as he hands the blanket to you.

“Thank you,” you say simply, reaching for it, but before you can touch it, George pulls it back, and you sigh in frustration.

“Actually,” he starts. “I’ll give it back if you come with me and let me talk.”

You knew you weren’t getting out of this, so you stood up. “Let’s go then.”

He leads you up the the astronomy tower, and you look over the untouched white canvas of the grounds. “I’m sorry,” he continues. “I’m sorry I got you detention. I’m sorry about the bludger. I’m just sorry, for everything.”

“Okay,” you say.

“I really like you, and I know it’s obvious. I’ve never been so nervous around someone before. I’ve never felt like I needed to actually try to make a good impression, and when I did try, I fucked up and got us in trouble. I just don’t know how to act around you.”

“You really like me?” You ask.

“Yes, of course.”

“Then why did you ask Angelina to the ball?” You murmur. 

“I didn’t think you liked me. I was trying to just move on before I made anything worse, but then that made it worse. I heard you talking to Ron and them in the hall, and I heard you say it. I immediately cancelled the ball with her so I could ask you once I’ve apologized but you never let me. You’re all I can think about, Y/n.”

You look up into his soft eyes, and your heart melts. “I forgive you,” you mutter.

“Really?” He asks in disbelief.

“Yes,” you blush and look down at the grounds from the ledge as you avoid George’s eyes.

He clears his throat. “Will you, Y/n Y/l/n be my date to the Yule ball, and my date to everything else from here on. Will you please be mine?”

You couldn’t control the smile on your face as you looked back at him. “Under one condition,” you giggle. 

“Anything,” George pleads.

“Kiss me,” you say, building up your confidence to straighten your posture and look directly into his eyes.

“Definitely.”

George grabs your face softly and leans down, putting his soft lips on your own as you both smile ridiculously as the fireworks blow within the both of you.

[twoidiotwriters1]

Written In The Stars CXXXI (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: Right now Val’s fic and mine are screaming ‘Fuck Harry Potter!’ But in entirely different contexts and I love it jsdjsdj -Danny P.S. the Twins’ leaving always makes me cry when I read that.

Words: 4,428

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Listen to: ‘Fine Line’ -by Harry Styles

Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Twins' Farewell.

"Aren't you going to say anything?"

"I need a moment."

"You've been quiet for five minutes."

"Well, I found out my mother used to be a bully," She snapped. "I kind of have a lot to think about!"

Their parents had treated Snape the same way Dudley used to treat her and Harry when they were younger. Not only that, but Harry's mother appeared to hate James with a burning passion. As if that weren't enough, Emily had actively taken part in attacking Snape and threatened Lily with hexing her if she interfered. Harry was holding back information though, and she needed to know what it was.

"What is it?"

"Hmm?" Harry said nervously.

"You have that look on your face. You haven't finished the story.”

"I have."

"Don't lie to me."

She took advantage of his inexperience and forced the memory out.

Mel looked at the fifteen-year-old version of her mother and saw herself reflected on her. She had her eyes, hair (exactly as long as her mother's when she was her age, and it fell in the same elegant fashion). She also had her lovesick gaze, which caused her to realize Emily was head over heels for none other than James Potter.

It was uncomfortable to watch, not only because Matt and Sirius would glance from time to time with a grumpy expression, but also because they were so similar to their parents that it was like looking at a very odd mirror. James was utterly oblivious, he would look at Emily like she was an adorable toddler. 

Emily, on the other side, was a lost cause. James would constantly look back at the group of girls that were hanging out by the lake, where Lily Evans was chatting happily. His eyes would light up the same way Harry's used to. 

Then she had to witness the look of pleased evilness when they attacked Snape, the way Emily pointed her wand at Lily, ready to attack...

She pulled back abruptly.

"I told you not to do it!" Harry groaned, closing his eyes tightly and pressing his palm on his temple.

"I can't believe she never told me!" Mel exclaimed.

"What were you expecting? 'Hey, you know that boy you're friends with? I used to have a crush on his dad!"

"I don't know!" Mel blushed. "I... Sirius told me my mum had the longest crush on this boy before dating my dad... I never thought it'd be James!"

"I never thought my dad was an arrogant twat," Harry said miserably. "I can't believe Snape was telling the truth..."

"What if..." Mel pushed her hair back, and she grimaced at the thought of doing it in the exact same way her mother used to. "What if Snape tricked you into believing he's telling the truth?"

"How?" 

"Well... we can't trust our brains, let alone someone else's! I mean, we treat Malfoy rather badly but we're not bad people, are we? If you were to look at us through his eyes we would look like monsters..."

Harry considered the idea, then shook his head miserably. 

"Snape didn't want me to look at the memory, he'd hidden the Pensieve and I was the one who snooped around."

Mel thought back on all those years uncle Lupin never talked about his relation to his mother, how they said she was too young... They had been right, but Mel was old enough now.

"I think," Mel said, standing up and indicating Harry to do the same. "We deserve an explanation."

"But why haven't you got Occlumency lessons anymore?" 

"I've told you, Snape reckons I can carry on by myself now I've got the basics... He says that if I need help, I can ask Mel," Harry shrugged, avoiding looking up from his parchment.

"Is it true?" Hermione raised her brows in polite surprise.

"Yeah," Mel lied. "We got this under control."

"So you've stopped having funny dreams, Harry?"

"Pretty much," He replied, his face almost completely hidden.

"Well, I don't think Snape should stop until you're absolutely sure you can control them!" Hermione frowned. "Harry, I think you should go back to him and ask —"

"No. Just drop it, Hermione, okay?"

"Are you done with the schedules, 'Mione?" Mel asked, trying to change the subject.

"Why are you making studying schedules, exams are ages away," Ron yawned.

"Exams are only six weeks away, Ron," Hermione sentenced.

"They're what, now?" He straightened up on his chair.

"How can that come as a shock?" 

"I dunno..." said Ron, "there's been a lot going on..."

"Well, there you are," Hermione handed three identical schedules to Harry, Ron and Mel, "if you follow that you should do fine."

"You've given me an evening off every week!" 

"That's for Quidditch practice," said Hermione. 

"Yay," Mel said without excitement. Next game she was playing seeker against none other than Cho Chang, so she was starting to feel nervous.

"What's the point?" Ron pouted. "We've got about as much chance of winning the Quidditch Cup this year as Dad's got of becoming Minister of Magic..."

"All you need to do is stop the Quaffle from entering the bloody goal posts, how hard can that be?" Mel huffed. "I have to find the smallest little thing against a well-trained seeker!"

"You're well-trained," Ron argued. 

"I'm not even close to being at her level—"

"What's wrong, Harry?" Hermione interrupted.

"What?" Harry gave a start. "Nothing..."

He picked up his Defensive Magical Theory book and Grey jumped onto his lap, Harry barely acknowledged him. 

"I saw Cho earlier," Hermione started tentatively, "and she looked really miserable too... Have you two had a row again?"

"Wha — oh yeah, we have," Harry nodded.

"What about?"

"That sneak friend of hers, Marietta," He said.

"Yeah, well, I don't blame you!" said Ron. "If it hadn't been for her..."

The boy went off for several minutes about what an awful girl Marietta was, looking back on it, it was a bit unfair not to warn her about the risks...

Marietta was scared for her family, it was obvious she'd try to do the best for them. People are allowed to change their minds! 

Mel was hoping her parents had done the same, otherwise she would have to live with the fact that they were... not the best of people.

‘CAREER ADVICE

All fifth years will be required to attend a short meeting with their Head of House during the first week of the Summer term, in which they will be given the opportunity to discuss their future careers. Times of individual appointments are listed below...’

The four of them were going through a bunch of pamphlets of different wizarding careers, trying to decide what thing suited them better. Mel was quietly reading the pamphlet on Magizoology when Fred and George sat down between her and Harry.

"Ginny's had a word with us about you," said Fred, putting his legs on the table and kicking pamphlets in the process. "She says you need to talk to Sirius?"

"What?" Hermione spat.

"Yeah..." said Harry, "yeah, I thought I'd like —"

"Don't be so ridiculous," said Hermione. "With Umbridge groping around in the fires and frisking all the owls?" 

"Well, we think we can find a way around that," said George. "It's a simple matter of causing a diversion. Now, you might have noticed that we have been rather quiet on the mayhem front during the Easter holidays?"

"What was the point, we asked ourselves, of disrupting leisure time?" continued Fred. "No point at all, we answered ourselves. And of course, we'd have messed up people's studying too, which would be the very last thing we'd want to do."

Hermione looked at him as if she could not believe him to be so thoughtful. 

"But it's business as usual from tomorrow," Fred continued, putting an arm around Mel casually. "And if we're going to be causing a bit of uproar, why not do it so that Harry and the lady can have their chat with Sirius?"

"I never said I wanted to talk with Sirius," Mel raised a brow, giving her wand a light flicker and making the pamphlets go back to the table neatly.

"But you do though," George replied. "You wouldn't miss the opportunity to check on your mum, would you?"

Mel pondered. "I guess not..."

"Yes, but still," said Hermione, "even if you do cause a diversion, how are Harry and Mel supposed to talk to him?"

"Umbridge's office," Harry replied matter of factly.

"Erick said that's the only floo line that isn't being watched," Mel nodded.

"Are — you — insane?" Hermione asked angrily.

"Yeah, people keep telling me that," She smiled.

"And how are you going to get in there in the first place?"

"Sirius's knife," Harry said.

"Excuse me?"

"Christmas before last Sirius gave me a knife that'll open any lock. So even if she's bewitched the door so Alohomora won't work, which I bet she has —"

"What do you think about this?" Hermione hissed at Ron.

"I dunno," Ron blushed. "If Harry wants to do it, it's up to him, isn't it?"

"Spoken like a true friend and Weasley," said Fred. "Right, then. We're thinking of doing it tomorrow, just after lessons, because it should cause maximum impact if everybody's in the corridors — We'll set it off in the east wing somewhere, draw her right away from her own office — I reckon we should be able to guarantee you, what, twenty minutes?"

"Easy," George nodded.

"What sort of diversion is it?" Ron frowned.

"You'll see, little bro," said Fred, getting up at the same time as his twin. "At least, you will if you trot along to Gregory the Smarmy's corridor round about five o'clock tomorrow." 

"Okay then," Mel sighed. "We'll do it."

"Hey," Harry whispered once everyone was back in their business. "Don't you get uncomfortable with the way Fred treats you?"

"Huh?" She blushed. "Oh! I don't even notice, you know? Yeah, no big deal..."

She hid her face behind the pamphlet, fearful that Harry would insist on asking questions.

"I'm sorry," McGonagall blinked. "Could you repeat that?"

"I'd like to pursue the careers of Auror, Magizoologist," She smiled, "and Unspeakable."

Umbridge (who had been supervising the interviews that day) let out the faintest little chuckled, but they ignored it.

"Miss Dumbledore, are you aware of the work—"

"Yes. I require a minimum of five N.E.W.T.s and nothing under 'Exceeds Expectations' for the Auror position. They ask for a character and aptitude test as well. I'm aware that they haven't taken any new blood for the last three years, but fortunately, that's the same time I have to finish my studies, so maybe by then, they'll have a spot — As for my character and aptitude test, well, I'll work on that. Moving onto Magizoology: I need to pass Care of magical creatures, Defense against the dark arts, Potions, Herbology and Charms. My weak spot is Herbology, but I'm sure I can catch up. As for the Unspeakable position, well, it's all of the above."

She knew it was ambitious, but Dumbledore had told her she could achieve it with hard work and the proper schedule, and she wanted to believe he was right.

"For two of those you'll need to have a respect for authority," McGonagall stared at her. "Something which I've noticed doesn't come easily for you."

"It's not that I don't respect authority," Mel replied. "I respect you and the other teachers, I respect most of the Aurors I've met, I respect my mother... I just have zero patience with idiots."

"You'll have to accept that some people will know better than you, even if you find them idiotic."

"Well, I respect Snape don't I? I have a solid 'Outstanding' in his class."

She might have been wrong, but she saw the faintest hint of a smile on the woman's face.

"Very well, Miss Dumbledore," She drew out a parchment from Mel's folder and started to write down subjects. "I won't deny it'll be a long time before you get everything you want, but I've seen your abilities and I trust you'll get there—"

"Excuse me," Umbridge spoke. "It's blatantly clear that a Dumbledore, one that's proven to be mentally unstable, has no place in the Ministry."

"Good thing the Unspeakables aren't obliged to respond to the Minister, then," McGonagall replied with disinterest.

"What?" asked Mel and Umbridge.

"Miss Dumbledore, I thought you'd done your research," McGonagall then did show a polite smile. "The Department of Mysteries is a closed ward, they don't talk about their work outside office hours and most certainly they don't talk about it with people who do not belong in their area."

"No one is above the Minister," Umbridge replied with outrage.

"You're quite right about that," McGonagall finished whatever she was writing and folded it. "The Unspeakables work in the basement. You're free to go, Miss Dumbledore."

Mel took the parchment McGonagall was offering to her, but the professor held onto it for a moment.

"Best of lucks," She said, gazing up at Mel through her glasses.

As she slowly made her way to Divination, Fred ran into her, looking more energized than ever.

"All right, Lady?" He smiled.

"Yeah," She said brightly. "McGonagall just approved my future careers, she says I have a good chance to do them all!"

"Nice! Are you ready for what's coming?"

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" She asked. 

Fred had told her this was it for him and George, they wouldn't stay to get detention or being officially expelled. They were planning to run away, and Mel was dead worried.

"I'm brilliant," He smiled. "Everything's okay. Especially between us — I promised, didn't I? I'm keeping my word, and I promise to write as soon as I'm safe —"

"No!" Mel said. "Umbridge goes through our mail..."

"Don't worry, just leave it to us."

He started to walk away and Mel did too.

"Mel?" The boy called right before she left the hall, the girl stopped and turned to look at him. "Don't waste your chances."

Harry and Mel made their way to Umbridge's office as soon as they heard explosions at the far end of the school. They crouched in front of the fireplace and threw floo powder in the centre, the flames surrounded their heads.

"Number twelve, Grimmauld Place!" Harry said out loud. 

She closed her eyes until the feeling of being pulled forward came to a stop.

"Sirius?" Harry asked.

However, when Mel opened her eyes she saw her uncle.

"Mel! Harry! What are you — what's happened, is everything all right?"

"Yeah, I just wondered — I mean, I just fancied a — a chat with Sirius."

"I just want to know how my mum's doing," Mel replied clumsily.

"I'll call them," said Lupin. "He went upstairs to look for Kreacher, he seems to be hiding in the attic again. Emily's having a nap, she takes lots of those lately..."

"Is this really a good idea?" Mel asked the boy next to her.

"We're already here..."

Lupin returned with a short-haired Sirius (apparently he'd given in to Emily's desires) and Mel's mum, who was now six months into her pregnancy.

"What is it?" Sirius and Remus knelt, leaving Emily on a chair facing them so she could look at the kids. "Are you all right? Do you need help?"

"No, it's nothing like that... I just wanted to talk... about my dad..." Harry started. "About something I saw in one of Snape's memories."

Lupin and Sirius exchanged a look of surprise, Emily's frown deepened. When Harry finished his story, Lupin was the first to speak.

"I wouldn't like you to judge your parents on what you saw there. They were only fifteen —"

"We're fifteen!" 

"Look, Harry," said Sirius, "James and Snape hated each other from the moment they set eyes on each other, it was just one of those things, you can understand that, can't you? I think James was everything Snape wanted to be — he was popular, he was good at Quidditch, good at pretty much everything. And Snape was just this little oddball who was up to his eyes in the Dark Arts and James — whatever else he may have appeared to you, Harry — always hated the Dark Arts."

"Yeah, but he just attacked Snape for no good reason, just because — well, just because you said you were bored." 

"And Mum helped him," Mel said, pouting. "You threatened to hurt Lily if she tried to help Snape!"

"I'm not proud of it," said Sirius.

"Neither am I," Emily stated. "As you've heard countless times before, I want you to grow having better morals than the ones I had when I was your age. I can't erase what I did, but I've learned to live with it."

"What you've got to understand is that your fathers and Sirius were the best in the school at whatever they did — everyone thought they were the height of cool — if they sometimes got a bit carried away —"

"If we were sometimes arrogant little berks, you mean," said Sirius. "Matthew was the only one who knew how to keep his feet on the ground. He was a flirt, yes, but he was never a total prat."

"He kept messing up his hair," Harry said quietly, referring to James.

"I'd forgotten he used to do that," said Sirius, laughing.

"Was he playing with the Snitch?" asked Remus.

"Yeah," said Harry. 

Mel felt tempted to mention her mother's crush; but what was the point, really? It'd been years since that, and in the end, Emily had stopped liking him, it was long over. Bringing that up would only make things awkward, and Mel knew there was no use in reliving things of the past.

"Well..." Harry started, "I thought he was a bit of an idiot." 

"So that's where you got it from, then?" Mel teased.

"Of course he was a bit of an idiot!" said Sirius. "We were all idiots! Well — Ruddy and Moony not so much..."

"Did I ever tell you to lay off Snape? Did I ever have the guts to tell you I thought you were out of order?" Lupin grimaced.

"Yeah, well, you made us feel ashamed of ourselves sometimes... That was something..."

"Matthew wasn't afraid to be brutally honest, though. He would say the truth no matter what," Emily tilted her head. "Perhaps that's what made me liked him. I had an awful temper and he would always stop me from doing stupid things."

"That explains your temper," The boy whispered to Mel teasingly as well. "Oh! And... he kept looking over at the girls by the lake, hoping they were watching him!"

"Oh, well, he always made a fool of himself whenever Lily was around," said Sirius. "He couldn't stop himself showing off whenever he got near her."

"How come she married him? She hated him!"

"Nah, she didn't," Sirius smirked.

"She started going out with him in seventh year," Lupin explained. 

"Once James had deflated his head a bit," said Sirius.

"And stopped hexing people just for the fun of it," said Lupin. 

"Even Snape?" 

"Well, Snape was a special case. I mean, he never lost an opportunity to curse James, so you couldn't really expect James to take that lying down, could you?"

"And my mum was okay with that?"

"She didn't know too much about it, to tell you the truth. I mean, James didn't take Snape on dates with her and jinx him in front of her, did he?"

"I was already friends with Lily by the end of our fifth year," Emily said, "actually, right after that day when we finished our O.W.L.'s we had a talk... yeah, I reckon that's when we decided to call a truce. I made sure she never got anywhere near Snape after that day, for her own sake, really. Snape was always awful to her."

"Look," Sirius said, "your father was the best friend I ever had, and he was a good person. A lot of people are idiots at the age of fifteen. He grew out of it. So did Emily, but they never did anything that could be considered a crime."

"Yeah, okay... I just never thought I'd feel sorry for Snape."

"Now you mention it," said Lupin, "how did Snape react when he found you'd seen all this?"

"He told me he'd never teach me Occlumency again," Harry shrugged, "like that's a big disappoint — Ouch!"

Mel had pinched his arm to stop him from talking, but it was too late.

"He WHAT?" Sirius yelled.

"Are you serious, Harry?" said Lupin. "He's stopped giving you lessons?" 

"Yeah— But it's okay, I don't care, it's a bit of a relief to tell you the truth, and Mel said she can teach —" 

"I'm coming up there to have a word with Snape!" said Sirius, trying to step into the fire but stopping when Lupin grabbed his arm.

"If anyone's going to tell Snape it will be me!" Lupin said firmly. "Emily needs you here. But Harry, first of all, you're to go back to Snape and tell him that on no account is he to stop giving you lessons — when Dumbledore hears —" 

"I can't tell him that, he'd kill me! You didn't see him when we got out of the Pensieve —"

"Harry, there is nothing so important as you learning Occlumency! Do you understand me? Nothing!" 

"It's true, kid," Emily said, a look of sympathy on her face. "We need you safe."

"Okay, okay," Harry responded. "I'll... I'll try and say something to him... But it won't be..."

Mel raised a hand to quiet him down, they both heard footsteps.

"Is that Kreacher coming downstairs?"

"No," said Sirius, looking over his shoulder. "It must be somebody your end..."

"We'd better go!" 

"Thank you for the talk!" Mel said quickly. "See you!"

They both pulled back from the flames, falling on their butts.

"Quickly, quickly!" Filch wheezed outside the room. "Ah, she's left it open..."

Harry pulled her close abruptly and Mel put the cloak above their heads just in time. Filch rushed over to the desk without paying attention to his surroundings.

"Approval for Whipping... Approval for Whipping... I can do it at last... They've had it coming to them for years..." He ran out holding a piece of parchment.

Harry and Mel left the room in a hurry, one floor down they took off the cloak and followed the noises. They ran to the marble staircase and found the entire school there.

It was just like the night when Trelawney had been sacked. Students were standing all around the walls in a great ring (some of them, Harry noticed, covered in a substance that looked very like Stinksap); teachers and ghosts were also in the crowd. 

Prominent among the onlookers were members of the Inquisitorial Squad, who were all looking exceptionally pleased with themselves, and Peeves, who was bobbing overhead, gazed down upon Fred and George, who stood in the middle of the floor with the unmistakable look of two people who had just been cornered.

"No..." Mel tried to enter the crowd but someone held her arm before she could get in.

"Wouldn't do that if I were you," Erick whispered. "Let them handle it. They're about to leave anyway."

"How do you know?" Mel asked in surprise.

"I helped them buy half of the things they needed for this. Umbridge doesn't check my mail."

"So!" The woman exclaimed. "So... you think it amusing to turn a school corridor into a swamp, do you?"

"Pretty amusing, yeah," said Fred unbothered.

"I've got the form, Headmistress," Filch exclaimed in joy. "I've got the form and I've got the whips waiting... Oh, let me do it now..."

"Very good, Argus. You two are about to learn what happens to wrongdoers in my school."

"You know what? I don't think we are. George," He turned to his twin. "I think we've outgrown full-time education." 

"Yeah, I've been feeling that way myself," The boy responded. 

"Time to test our talents in the real world, d'you reckon?"

"Definitely."

"Accio Brooms!" They yelled in unison.

Harry heard a loud crash somewhere in the distance. Looking to his left he ducked just in time — Fred and George's broomsticks, one still trailing the heavy chain and iron peg with which Umbridge had fastened them to the wall, were hurtling along the corridor toward their owners. They turned left, streaked down the stairs, and stopped sharply in front of the twins, the chain clattering loudly on the flagged stone floor.

"We won't be seeing you," Fred told Professor Umbridge, swinging his leg over his broomstick.

"Yeah, don't bother to keep in touch," said George, mounting his own.

Fred looked around at the assembled students, and at the silent, watchful crowd.

"If anyone fancies buying a Portable Swamp, as demonstrated upstairs, come to number ninety-three, Diagon Alley — Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes," he said in a loud voice. "Our new premises!"

"Special discounts to Hogwarts students who swear they're going to use our products to get rid of this old bat," added George, pointing at Professor Umbridge.

"STOP THEM!" shrieked Umbridge, but it was too late. As the Inquisitorial Squad closed in, Fred and George kicked off from the floor, shooting fifteen feet into the air, the iron peg swinging dangerously below. Fred looked across the hall at the poltergeist bobbing on his level above the crowd.

"Give her hell from us, Peeves."

And Peeves, whom Harry had never seen take an order from a student before, swept his belled hat from his head and sprang to a salute as Fred and George wheeled about to tumultuous applause from the students below and sped out of the open front doors into the glorious sunset. 

Mel clapped along with her classmates, she'd promised not to cry over silly boys, but this was a different kind of crying. No more afternoons with Fred and George around to make her laugh, to tease her about her height or her temper. It hurt, but she also felt proud to call them friends.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked. 

"I don't know."

"You'll be okay," He assured her. "I'm sorry Fred and you broke up, though."

"You and Fred broke up?" Erick asked in a strange voice.

"Have you been living under a rock?" Harry grinned.

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@dee123ksha @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @kylosleftbuttcheek @reverse-hxlland @bloodorangemoonlight @omiwashere @t-rexs-world​ @just-here-to-escape-from-reality​ @21bruhs @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @dielgonacoffee

[thegryffindorprincess]

Save His Soul (Prologue)//Draco Malfoy x OC reader Fan Fiction

A/N: Hi loves! This is the first part of my new book! You may have already seen it over on Wattpad, but I just love the Tumblr community! Anyways, here’s the prologue! This is a tear jerker, a soul shatterer but also a heart warmer. 

PLAYLIST

Set: Post-War

Word count: 964

Warnings: mentions of sex, death, some violence maybe idk?? 

It wasn't like she didn't think about him. She claimed she didn't, but anyone gifted in legilimency would know that was a lie. She'd managed to convince her friends, even her closest ones, that she'd forgotten all about what happened between them. After all, Tuesday left him, she broke up with him to protect herself, so that she would be able to fight against Voldermort, and hell even him, without guilt. He'd pretended he didn't care, obviously, saying he should've never dated a filthy mudblood like her anyway. But they both knew he didn't mean it. The fact of the matter was that Tuesday couldn't keep Draco out of head even if she wanted too. She read the papers, the gossip columns: who is the ex death eater fucking? Malfoy embarrasses family name again with drunken antics. Draco Malfoy seen in an enchanted strip club for the fifth time in a month, why the once respectable son of Lucius Malfoy has gone off the rails. Although she read them all, she didn't talk about it with anyone. The order of the phoenix deliberately avoided him as a subject matter at meetings, even though she assured them they didn't have to.

Truthfully, she thought about him every day.  All of their big moments swam around her head twenty-four-seven, and with the flashbacks of the war, she'd become a shell of her former self. Now she was shy, almost nervous. Nobody truly understood how fast her brain had to work to ensure she didn't combust. The memories of Draco and all the things that happened to them started with simple things. The first time they met was when Ginny had left Tuesday alone to study in their first year because she was dealing with all the Tom Riddle business. He'd slumped down on the table opposite her and the two had started talking. Unlike how he treated her friends, he was kind to her, despite her house and blood status. They'd spent three hours just sitting, laughing, talking. She'd told him he should put his hair in curtains and the next year when she was in her second and he was in his third, he'd arrived with his new hair cut. She grinned when she saw it. That year, he kissed her on the astronomy tower and told her he felt in his bones that one day they'd marry. That night she told him of her blood status, and all he did was smile. "I'm not my father you know. I love you." The next year, he took her to the Yule ball. Harry had simply smiled when he saw the two of them, thinking that she'd be good for him. Ginny was made up for them. Ron was annoyed, but then again that was more to do with Hermione. Hermione warned her to be careful but grinned at her when she saw them dancing together later. That year she lost her virginity to him. He'd been so gentle and careful. She'd never forgotten it.

The next year they began dating. It was mostly private, but sometimes he couldn't help but show her off. That year was difficult for the two of them, he joined the squad and she joined Dumbledores Army. He knew about the army a long time before Umbridge had found out, but he could never rat her out. When they were caught he held Tuesday in what looked like a rough hold, but really he was gently propping her up. That night his father nearly killed her when they broke into the ministry. They'd cried at the end of that night together for hours, understanding that this would be difficult. The next year was worse. He ignored her over summer, and when they went to have sex on the train she saw it. His mark. She'd frozen and pushed him off her. Tuesday felt betrayed, how dare he do that to her when he claimed to love her. She became closed off and cold to him then, and he knew he'd let her down. She and Draco had continued to have sex, but that was all they really did. When she found out what he'd done that year, with the death eaters and Dumbledore, she felt too angry to change her mind. She broke up with him. She watched as Draco punched a wall until his hand bled and swelled. He screamed at her and cried and begged. She simply shrugged and left. On the year of the war, she tried to shut him out completely. Every night though, she prayed he'd change side, fight alongside her. There was a glimmer of hope when Hermione sent news that Draco had helped Harry survive. But when the death eaters arrived at the castle, she watched as he joined them. He looked at her as he and his family ran away, she could've sworn he mouthed 'I love you' but she'd never been sure. The battle was tedious and long. She held Fred in her arms when he died. She had to pick Ginny up and take her away so she didn't have to see her dying brother. She failed to save Lavender Brown in a duel. She'd held Tonks hand as she died. And still, she was most angry with Draco. For not protecting her, for being a coward.

In the years that followed the battle, she got a mediocre job in admin at the Daily Prophet and hobbled through.  The only good parts of her week were seeing the Order and going out at weekends. The rest of the time she didn't sleep, over thought and slowly became exhausted. Her life had become stagnant, boring and lifeless. Until, one morning instead of hearing her alarm, she heard a sharp knock on her front door.

[julianlapostat]

Masters and Slaves in Harry Potter: Being Anti-Slavery and Anti-Abolition

Here’s one of the great mysteries of our time and place. In Popular culture, Harry Potter is unironically invoked by many and co-opted by liberals, and other leftist nerds. The big theme in American politics is anti-Confederacy, and globally the Atlantic Slave Trade is a topic of interest and debate for all concerned. The biggest fantasy series of the current decade is ASOIAF/GOT and one of its central heroes is a radical abolitionist conquering queen. Much of this makes Harry Potter and its continuing popularity and fame perplexing because Harry Potter is a slaveowner himself. At the age of 16, Harry Potter, on Sirius Black’s death, inherits his house, his remaining wealth, and Kreacher the House-Elf, who is bound by magic to serve Harry Potter, as the heir of the House of Black. Yep, Harry Potter is a slaveowner. Of course, narratively this is justified, Voldemort’s back, Kreacher knows the secrets of the order, and politically Kreacher is compromised and dangerous...which is fine.

But you know at the end of Deathly Hallows, the final book. Here is the final lines of the final chapter (before the Epilogue) right after Harry decides to destroy the  Elder Wand (CHAPTER: The Flaw in the Plan)

“That wand’s more trouble than it’s worth,” said Harry. “And quite honestly,” he turned away from the painted portraits, thinking now only of the four-poster bed lying waiting for him in Gryffindor Tower, and wondering whether Kreacher might bring him a sandwich there, “I’ve had enough trouble for a lifetime.”

The war is over. The villain is defeated. The hero has triumphed. Does he think of freeing Kreacher now. Nope, in the words of Fred and George Weasley, “he's off to the chamber of secrets for a cup of tea with his fanged servant" or like the rich-kid that he is thinking of his bed, and late night snack brought to him by a slave for his comfort. In this essay, I am going to explore the problematic attitude towards slavery in Harry Potter and its unusual and weird representation. How it might have happened and what it means for a series to be anti-slavery and anti-abolition at the same time. 

Harry Potter is a fantasy but it’s a melange of different genres (Boarding School, Epic Fantasy, Satire, Dickensian Changeling Story) and periods. Victorian England, Regency England, Medieval England, Renfaire, ‘30s England and so on. This mix of different periods explains the entire hierarchy of fantasy species : Centaurs from Greece, Goblins from Medieval England, and House-Slaves from the bowdlerized Victorian children fairy tales. 

The House-Elves are especially weird because Rowling is mixing and confusing a bunch of things together. The house-elves are actual slaves, but they are also on some level a code for aristocratic manorial servants with a legacy of service. For instance, Kreacher in Order of the Phoenix, is a classic British butler and servant whose father and grandfather were also butlers, and who have so internalized the legacy of the estate that they become more conservative than the rebellious descendants. This is a classic trope in a number of British satires in the Edwardian eras. Think DOWNTON ABBEY and GOSFORD PARK. House-Elves serve the Houses and the Family. Ron Weasley tells Harry “they come with the place” and apparently the Wizarding World does not have a house-elf slave trade, since Ron Weasley mentions that Molly Weasley, his mother once mentioned that she would not have minded a House-Elf to help the family. Across the Harry Potter lore, we are never told the history of House-Elves. Where did they come from, what kind of species are they, how did their enslavement come about? None of this is told to us. As such, while house-elves are slaves, it’s clearly a fantasy form of slavery, one with little resemblance to real-world slave systems at least based on the form of books. 

Some of this can be justified for satirical purposes. For instance in Rick and Morty, Mr. Meeseeks is a house-elf like figure. They are slaves of the people who summon them, and they “exist only for a singular purpose”. Mr. Meeseeks satirizes and complicates the plot and narrative in ways that is funny, disturbing, and unnerving, without quite being as problematic as slavery in Harry Potter. 

Rowling does not achieve this. She confuses and overlays butlers, manorial servants, etcetera on slavery, and she clearly loses control of the tone of presentation. In Book 2, Dobby the house-elf is a comic figure and the servitude of house-slaves associated with Lucius Malfoy is presented as black comedy. Had Dobby disappeared after Book 2, and had House-Elves not been made into a core part of the series lore, then we wouldn’t have a problem. Instead house-elves return in Book 4, and there they are treated seriously and there’s nothing satirical about it. And that’s where the problem begins. 

Across the books, we only see two House-Elves freed from bondage. One is when Harry tricks Lucius Malfoy into freeing Dobby at the end of Book 2. The other is in Goblet of Fire, when Barty Crouch Sr. “gives clothes” to Winky. The latter is the only act of manumission in the series, i.e. a master freeing his slave from his service. He does so in response to public humiliation, and Winky upon being free spends the rest of the books drinking and crying, still pining for her master. Let me be unambiguous, the Harry Potter books presents a master freeing his slave as a moment of humiliation, disgrace, and degradation for both master and slave, and the slave upon being freed is left pining for her bondage, because she hates freedom. That is as they say these days, fucked up. 

Book 4 however introduces a wrinkle, Hermione Granger’s SPEW, and there were hints that there could be a house-elf revolution in later books. Even here we have a problem. The Chapter that provides us the World-Building about House-Elves and enslavement is titled ‘The House Elf Liberation Front’ which provides an Anagram H. E. L. F. but the movement and slogan Hermione chooses is Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare. There is Nothing in the full title of SPEW that mentions abolition, liberation, manumission. So we can see the disingenuous-ness reflected clearly in the title and the actions, the discordant gulf between the two. In Harry Potter, slave revolts are inorganic to House-Elves. It’s imposed from outside, by Hermione and others. 

Book 5 introduces us to Kreacher. By introducing Kreacher, Rowling achieves the weird situation whereby Sirius Black, the family rebel who hates the House of Black, and who dislikes its legacy, and who dislikes slavery and who is forced to live in his family home against his will, and who is forced back to become a slave-master against his will by Dumbledore is presented as being in the wrong for mistreating Kreacher because he was not “a good slave master” whereas Regulus, the Death Eater, the Good Son, is glorified for treating Kreacher well. Regulus Black was a Death Eater who finally turned on Voldemort because he mistreated his slave, but he did not liberate or manumit Kreacher. In Harry Potter, being a good slaveowner and slave master is treated as a virtue, by Hermione and something as redeeming of a Death Eater. Kreacher’s entry into the story means, no Revolution, no Abolition, and nothing. Kreacher ends up making Harry into a slaveowner, and he makes Harry comfortable and morally undisturbed about owning a slave. Kreacher as a character concept in the series, normalizes slavery. Hermione Granger goes from refusing to eat food made by slave labour in Goblet of Fire, to someone who encourages Harry to be “a good slavemaster”.  

The House-Elves are satirical in conception, but the execution ruins it. Now this raises the question, if House Elves are satirical, who and what is being satirized? To be clear, does it Punch-Up or Punch-Down? In this case, Rowling’s intent is clear as this interview outlines: 

EVAN: You used to work for Amnesty International. Two years.

J.K. ROWLING: I did, yeah. Research assistant. Human rights abuses in Francophone Africa. It made me very fascinating at dinner parties. I knew everything about the political situation in Togo and Burkina Faso.

E: And you still do.

JK: No I don't. Not anymore.

E: But here's where it shows up: Hermione and the rights of elves. Civil rights becomes a theme in Goblet of Fire.

JK: Oh yeah. Yeah.

E: This is a real issue.

JK: Yeah, that was fairly autobiographical. My sister and I both, we were that kind of teenager. (Dripping with drama) We were that kind of, 'I'm the only one who really feels these injustices. No one else understands the way I feel.' I think a lot of teenagers go through that.

E: In Britain they call it 'Right On' or something.

JK: Exactly. Well, she's fun to write because Hermione, with the best of intentions, becomes quite self-righteous. My heart is entirely with her as she goes through this. She develops her political conscience. My heart is completely with her. But my brain tells me, which is a growing-up thing, that in fact she blunders towards the very people she's trying to help. She offends them. She's not very sensitive to their…

E: She's somewhat condescending to the elves who don't have rights.

JK: She thinks it's so easy. It's part of what I was saying before about the growing process, of realizing you don't have quite as much power as you think you might have and having to accept that. Then you learn that it's hard work to change things and that it doesn't happen overnight. Hermione thinks she's going to lead them to glorious rebellion in one afternoon and then finds out the reality is very different, but that was fun to write.

The Satire of House-Elves Punches-Down on the Abolitionists, and the Concerned Bleeding-Hearts, just so we are being clear here. 

Again this comes because of a loss of control of tone and confusion of issues. There is obviously something deeply problematic about the interviewer and then Rowling herself analogizing human rights work in Francophone Africa with House-Elves on account of the real history of European slavery, when in fact the House-Elves don’t really resemble the situation of African slavery. 

The other problem is that even without this unfortunate analogy, the whole satire is tin-eared. Hermione is supposed to be a teenage-girl who takes on a cause, and if that is something to satire, even with compassion, as Rowling intends, then that cause can be something like PETA, Vegetarianism, or other social-causes, where well-intended outsiders often do blunder about causes which don’t fall into clear right and wrong the way slavery obviously does. 

On top of this, Hermione is Muggleborn herself, a member of an oppressed minority in the wizarding world, and yet within the series, she doesn’t properly convey or channel her struggle in an intersectional way. So for instance, she allows and absolves Kreacher calling her Mudblood and subscribing to pureblood supremacy in a way that say, Lily Evans, does not do for Severus Snape. Which means that she is submitting and normalizing some form of discrimination while not demanding and extracting respect for her from Kreacher. And just in case we are clear, Hermione’s attitude to Kreacher in Book 7, is the end of her Character Development, i.e. when she sobers up and gives her revolutionary ways and commits herself to reform. It’s her Sistah Souljah Moment. 

That’s Hermione, what about Harry Potter the Hero himself? Harry Potter frees Dobby in Book 2, but he is no abolitionist. He is indifferent to slavery in Hogwarts, as is Ron, and other witches and wizards. He feels sorry for Hokey the House-Elf framed by Tom Riddle (which itself raises its own can of worms, because if a House-Elf can be tried and found guilty for killing its master, then that should be a huge deal, as any real-life survey of slavery in history will tell you)...but that doesn’t make him a convert. Ron Weasley in Book 7, expresses concern for SPEW and then Hermione kisses him, which is played for laughs, and is a classic example of a woman as reward, as Rowling herself admits

Fomy: What did you feel when you finally wrote the kiss, awaited so much by the fans, of ron and hermione J.K. Rowling I loved writing it, and I loved the fact that Hermione took the initiative! J.K. Rowling: Ron had finally got SPEW and earned himself a snog!

This is of course the other old Hippie ‘60s Stereotype, dudes being interested in protest causes just to get laid, which (while true in some cases) ends up arguing that people are not serious about causes, which has the effect of making those causes not serious, by extension. Call this the FORREST GUMP Historiography, which in many respects is one of the successors of the Lost Cause of Confederacy.

Hermione deserves better. Dobby the House-Elf deserved better. Readers deserved better. 

[drarrylovebot-blog]

Conjoined. Connected. Intertwined. (Part I)

For @alphacentxuri because you love angst and since I can’t actually write a good angst, I’ll mix it with Soulmate AU, and since I’m high on hormones this will makes no sense at all.

Prompt: (Soulmate AU) What if we’re connected? “I’m sorry I took so long.”

The first time Harry felt it was two days after he got his first ever tattoo –sadness, pain, and tears, while he’s not even sad. He was just peacefully sipping a hot lemon tea in front of blazing fire in Grimmauld Place’s chimney when the tears rush into his eyes and falls without control. Two days ago, he was just visiting his friend, right when Christmas holiday started at Hogwarts. There’s no actual motives or whatsoever, he was just missing his friend, and he wants to sort of talk with other people beside Ron and Hermione; not that he doesn’t want to talk with them, but they can be a little overbearing sometimes. So, he decided to visit Luna, trying to get a somehow weird but actually good advice for his life. Luna was ecstatic and so did the other children, as she has opened her house as a foster care for young witches and wizards that had lost their parents. One of Harry’s ideas that is actually being taken seriously by the ministry to prevent others soon to be Voldemort next generation kind of thing. She introduces magic to those kids, makes sure they have food on their stomach, clothes on their body, roof above their heads, but most importantly she makes certain they have a place where they belong, where they can come home to.

Harry told Luna how he sometimes feels utterly lost; of course he loves his job as the DADA teacher in Hogwarts, he is honestly grateful for every single minute that the Weasley spend to actually take care of him, he loves Ron and Hermione for still staying by his side even though things with him can get ugly –especially in those early years after the war, when he’s still basically mental, and even insane to actually join the Auror forces. He’s better now, of course, much better. He has settled, he got the job he actually likes, he has people that he can call as family, he has his friends, but sometimes it just doesn’t click in his brain. There’s something missing in his life, and sometimes it makes him feels lost in his own world, sometimes he feels like he’s watching his life instead of living in it.

“Love, Harry… Put a little love in your heart.” Luna has answered him with certainty in her dreamlike voice. Harry scoffs at that.

“Yeah, sure, like anyone could actually deal with my baggage. I put myself on the hands of some Mind Healers on those early years, Luna, not even they can deal with my baggage.”

“But they did help, right?” Harry has to admit that they actually did. Luna’s gaze suddenly glazed. She’s thinking; Harry knows she’s thinking when her eyes glaze like that. Then she looks at Harry with her soul reading stare. “Do you want to have a tattoo, Harry?” which makes him gapes because, seriously, she still can baffle him with her ideas on some occasions.

“What?”

“A tattoo? Do you want them?” Harry knows about Luna’s famous magic tattoo. She started it when she’s in her last year at Hogwarts, they were all repeating their classes to get their NEWT score that year. She’s good; Harry will give her that as he actually has seen some of the tattoo she had made. One of them is sitting on George’s chest, a tiny china cup mended with gold, a courtesy for Fred. He never exactly thinks about getting a tattoo, but he looks at Luna, and he understands that this is not just something to get him distracted; this is something that would help him –well, hopefully. Then screw it, even if it doesn’t help, Luna always means well.

“Yeah, okay, what do you have in mind?”

“A compass.” Luna smiles at him serenely.

*

That’s why Harry now has a compass on his arm, a compass that actually points to one specific place, and not just to the big N like muggle’s compass. And that is also the only reason that makes him runs back to Luna two days after new year celebration because all this pain and sadness inside him, and he doesn’t even know how to explain it, but it’s there, looming heavily on the pit of his stomach, and he doesn’t know what to do with it.

He has started with Hermione of course, at first she’s intrigued because Harry never makes his peace with commitment, but this tattoo means forever –and that’s not a small step toward commitment, that’s a fucking journey by airplane. Now, she’s just frustrated because there should be no reason that Harry would feel this weird sadness and pain out of nowhere, and there’s nothing about it even on the Ministry’s library, and she only wants Harry to be happy, and this is just unexplainable, so –why did you even make the tattoo again? Harry, are you sure you’re not imagining all of this pain?! And they got nowhere even after the year has once again passed. Hermione is somehow sure that Harry might just imagine this entire thing; Ron is quite horrified and tells him to go to St. Mungo because they were talking one day and Harry just suddenly writhed on the couch in pain. So, Harry goes back to Luna, hoping she has a fucking answer to all of this.

“Harry, I told you what you’re missing. Think about it like this, what if this,” she caresses the compass on his arm, “doesn’t lead you to a place? What if you’re not missing an object in your life?” Harry sinks the information in.

“So, you’re telling me that this might lead me to other thing? Like…”

“A person.” Luna says with a soft smile. “I think my magic opened a door inside your soul, a door which might connect you to another soul.”

“Wh-what?” Harry asks incredulously. “You think this –you’re saying that you just –what? Open a breach to another soul?” Luna laughs.

“Of course not, what I’m saying is that maybe my magic just strengthens the bond that you have with your other half–”

“What? Like my soulmate?” Harry cuts her musing because he just thinks that this is bloody ridiculous, and he’s not sure whether he’s supposed to take this seriously or not.

“Yes, exactly!” Luna exclaims. “And maybe, with the door being opened, now you can feel their pain too.” Harry blinks at her. “Life is not that cruel, Harry. Maybe it’s time for that person to share their pain; maybe it’s just too brutal for them to handle it alone. Maybe it’s just life’s way to not lose another soul in vain.”

“So, you’re saying that my best bet about this is that I have a soulmate out there who is suffering in pain and sadness?” Harry tries to conclude what he understands –no matter how small it is.

“Yes.” She simply answers. Harry takes a long deep breath to collect his scattered brain –he has a soulmate. Merlin, he has a soulmate out there!

“What should I do?” he finally asks after a long weary pause.

“You do what you need to do, Harry Potter, but most importantly, you do what you want to do.”

*

Harry Potter doesn’t pack and leave. He doesn’t follow his compass toward his soulmate, he doesn’t try to find the cure to this pain and sadness, and instead he goes back to Hogwarts to resume his task as a teacher. Hermione would kill him if he just leaves toward something as uncertain as that, no matter how much he believes in Luna, Hermione is not fond of illogical force and having a soulmate is just as illogical as learning Divination. And Harry can’t lose his job, not this one, because he loves being a teacher, he loves explaining magic, he loves seeing the joy on student’s face when they manage to cast spells successfully. Not going back to Hogwarts without an acceptable reason will get his arse sacked faster than a flying Snitch. So, he tries to adapt the new heavy feelings on the bottom of his stomach with his daily schedule.

For two months he endures the weird sensation of constant pain. It just randomly comes and go, usually during the day, sometimes even during the night. And during those months, Harry Potter becomes once again the reserved post war man he was. He’s closed off, he’s sullen, he’s just seems so low and unwell that even McGonagall noticed it one night. He often wonders why his soulmate is always in constant pain, why they seem like in a bottomless pit of sorrow, how much pain someone can actually handle before they just give up on living, because this is not some physical pain that can heal, this feels awfully similar to the constant agony that he felt during the war. Harry doesn’t want this stranger, no matter who they are, lose themselves in anguish and remorse. He wants his soulmate to be happy because even if they don’t have any chance to meet, Harry is ecstatic when he knows that he has a soulmate –when fate decides that he deserves to be with someone else instead of enduring the world alone. And Harry wants that too for the other person.

Another half month has already passed when Harry finally feels a change, it’s not much, just a simple click, but it feels like his life has just shifted once more. And then Harry feels it, there’s something else that settles in the pit of his now probably almost nonfunctioning heart –judging by the amount of times it feels like being wrenched out of his chest. Now there’s something that feels terribly similar with warmth –it’s small, but it’s there, and it’s making him feels slightly giddy. Harry is confused on why his soulmate suddenly feels this small happiness out of nowhere, but he is not complaining because now he can relax a little and not making himself insane by worrying sick about his soulmate mental state –it just a little bit unsettling because this warm giddy feeling feels horribly similar to the feelings he got when Ginny kissed him. Merlin, it seems like his soulmate just found themselves a new lover while their soulmate is worried sick for them and struggles to endure their pain. Harry almost scoffs in disbelieve, but again he’s not complaining –at least not that much- because at least they’re happy now, and it manages to uplift his spirit once again.

That’s the first time in months the students finally see Harry Potter smiles again in front of the class.

*

Harry Potter is happy, no in fact he’s glowing. In a few couple of months, Harry is happier than he ever felt. His stomach feels warm –awfully warm, there’s this giddy happiness inside him that sometimes just threatens to burst out as a random laugh, but the thing that makes him the happiest is this new development with his so called soulmate bond because one day there’s another presence at the back of his mind –a strong and warm presence, which he dares to bet with all the money in his vault must belong to his soulmate. It’s small, but it’s there, sitting firmly, making itself known with the warmth it’s emanating. And so, Harry makes his peace with the protruding presence, making it a part of his new life, a single concrete proof that makes him hold on to Luna’s theory about his soulmate. Harry of course tells about it all to Hermione, even though she still quite disbelieving his stories, she still listens to him –still projecting that small smile that is just so Hermione every time Harry happily tells her about his day.

He just feels so light now –and this almost feels enough even- his soulmate is constantly happy, therefore Harry is also free from the burden of pain –not that he’s complaining, seriously he’ll take all the pain by himself if that means his soulmate is not in the harm’s way. Harry stops eating the dinner in front of him suddenly when he realizes what kind of thought his mind has conjured. Merlin, he thinks he’s in love with this so called soulmate whom he has never met before. They’re just always there, you know, first with the pain and tears, but now with the constant warmth and joy that also blankets Harry’s figure. And, Merlin forbid, but he’s falling in love with this warm present in the back of his mind, which he always nudges softly every morning just to make sure it still there, just to make sure it still warm and happy. Oh fuck, he’s so screwed.

“Harry James Potter! You can’t just suddenly develop real feelings toward this abstract idea of your soulmate!” Hermione finally explodes one night when Harry finally decides to tell her. She starts pacing in front of him with her stern figure and a glare in her eyes. “Okay let’s just say this person actually exist, what if they’re not who you think they are? They could be dangerous people, Harry! They could be an 80 years old man who loves to feed birds every morning, they could be someone with weird habits, they could even be a pedophile, Harry! And you don’t know anything about this person, maybe this is just a spur in the moment kind of feeling? What if you met them and you decide that you just don’t like them?! And you know how I hope you have all the happiness in the world, but this is just insane!” She finally stops her rant with a deep breath.

“Yeah, well, I cannot exactly control my feeling, can I, Hermione? I know the risks, okay? But I also know that you can’t share a burden of pain and tears for months without actually caring for the other person. You have Ron, and I know I have you both in my life, but this person might be my only chance to have what you and Ron have. I don’t want many things in life, ‘Mione, I also feel mental when I realize this, but I want this.” Hermione looks at him in her calculating stare, which Harry can’t help but feels exposed to the core every time she does that.

“What if they’re happy because they find someone who makes them happy? What if you found them when it’s too late? Please, Harry, consider that reason too.” Hermione asks pleadingly.

“Then you’ll be the one to pick up all the pieces and rebuild me again, Hermione.”

“People have a breaking point, Harry, one day rebuilding you won’t be enough. I don’t want to see that day ever come, and I’m afraid this could be one vital step closer to that day.” Hermione says softly, tears start filling her eyes.

“I have to try, Hermione, or this would be the biggest regret of my life.”

“Fine, okay, but not now! Now you’ll teach DADA until the year end, after that you have my permission to go wherever this so called soulmate is existing.” She glares at him, a finger points at him sternly. Harry grins at that, trapping the smaller figure inside his embrace.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t come back in pieces.” She says softly, voice muffled by his sweater. “Please.” Harry tightens his arms around her back.

“I’ll try my best.”

*

Harry Potter stays, oh he stays alright, until one day it’s not alright anymore. Until one day it’s no longer warmth and happiness, until one day it’s no longer sadness and pain, until one day the switch just turns off inside his brain, and all Harry can feel is this calm and cold sensation wrapping itself in his heart –almost suffocating it the point of not feeling anything. Harry knows something just turns horribly wrong even though he doesn’t know what kind of event that can cause this kind of feeling. He almost bolts his way out of Hogwarts in one spontaneous second, but he restraints himself, the school year will only lasted for one more month, and oh how Harry hates himself for even thinking about this, but he hopes his soulmate can hold on for one more month. One more month then he’ll vow to search for this person and free them from the entire burden that keeps barreling toward their life.

Harry is weary and restless, he needs this month to just finish already because this cold and detach feeling is more horrible than the pain and sadness. He’s not even detach and cold after the war –no, he was afraid, and angry, and just basically a ball of emotions and impulsiveness which threatens to burst any second. This feeling is weirdly familiar, but he can’t make himself remember the occasion which put him in his soulmate shoes. Harry feels like being chased by time, the longer he spends his time teaching in Hogwarts the shorter his soulmate might even have. Harry hates it. It makes him want to just lash out to everyone in sight, making them understand that he feels this other presence is slipping away between Harry’s fingers, and there’s nothing he can do about it because he’s trapped in here. He just badly want to hug the other person with all that he has, letting them know that they are not alone, that Harry has shared their pain before and he prefers to feel all that pain again times two instead of this weird unfeeling sensation, but he can’t and he has to settled with the fact that he only has to wait for one more month.

Until one day Hermione comes barreling inside his office, making both Harry and Neville jumps in surprised with her announce visit. She grins widely, and Harry knows how mean he is for thinking about this, but he’s just so not in the mood to see Hermione being so happy while he’s basically brooding all the bloody time.

“Hi, Neville! Harry, can I talk with you? Alone?” She says sheepishly, no doubt feeling ashamed for having to kicks Neville out of the room.

“Yeah, okay, I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Harry. I hope you feel better.”

“Thank you, Neville.” Harry says with a smile.

“Hermione…” Neville greets and smiles as he gets out of the room.

“So, what makes you oozing happiness all of sudden?” Harry can’t completely hide the small bitterness in his voice.

“I have talked with Professor McGonagall, you’re free to go.” Harry only looks at her with a strange expression.

“And may I ask what have you two talked about?” She rolls her eyes.

“You got your permission to leave Hogwarts early, as in now, tomorrow, whenever you like to, Harry. You can go now and find this person that has once again made you miserable –more miserable than I have ever seen.” Harry gapes at that.

“H-how?” Now Hermione grins wider.

“I executed my own investigation in a more practical way. I visited Luna yesterday, asked her to ink my skin with her magic, and I felt all the things you have told me; faster and stronger because he’s already beside me at the time.” She smiles dazzlingly at him, almost bursting with emotions. “I can feel Ron in my head, how weird does that sound?!” and for once in Harry’s life, he finally witness Hermione squeals like a schoolgirl with a crush.

“What tattoo did you get?” now Harry is also smiling with amusement because seriously a giddy Hermione is a sight to behold.

“A small lighthouse, which actually glows when the person that is supposed to be my other half is near.”

“Of course, Luna is just a fucking sap, to guide him back home.” Harry scoffs, amused by his own explanation.

“Yes, and so I went to McGonagall, told her all the details that she should know, and she agreed to let you leave early. She said you deserve happiness like that in your life and she’s not going to stand in a way of a bond as strong as the soulmate bond. Damn, I never even read about those in any books, but she promised to lend me some of her books.”

“But what about the rest of the school year? They still need a DADA teacher!” Harry asks wildly, both with excitement and anxiety, because he has responsibilities in here and he can’t just run and leave without knowing the consequences.

“What do you think I’m here for, idiot?” She grins at him. “I’ll be your substitute. Now, go get your soulmate.” She winks. Harry doesn’t even know how to express his gratitude, so he once again traps her inside a hug.

“Thank you, Mione, you’re the best.”

“Of course, I am. Don’t use your broom, you’ll fall your arse off. Use the monstrous bike.”

“I’ll be faster with a broom.” She rolls her eyes before slapping his arm.

“I know every trick up your sleeve, every bit of that bike is charmed, and don’t play with me, I know it flies, Harry Potter, so fucking use it before you’re too late.” Harry grins at her.

“I’m such an idiot, of course you know.”

/this is so long, i know, but bare with me please/

Here is Part II