#Harry Potter angst

[eufezco]

MOONY'S BACK! 𓂃 𓈒 ❀

marauder!remus lupin x slytherin!reader

synopsis — remus returns from his first date with you, a slytherin girl, and has to face his friends’ teasing in the common room.

fluff

remus entered the gryffindor common room.

he felt his heart beating harder than usual and his nose and cheeks were flushed from the cold air—and perhaps something more. the fire crackled softly in the hearth. before going in, remus knew the common room won't be empty. his friends had been insufferably annoying all week about this day and remus had a feeling they’d been waiting for him to return.

and sure enough, they were there. sirius lounged across the armchair closest to the fire, his legs draped over one arm and his head resting against the other. james was seated on the couch, reading a copy of quidditch weekly, while lily was resting against his body, with her head on his chest. peter was lying on the floor talking to her.

—moony's back! —peter announced. not even a second after remus set a foot into the common room. the moment those words left peter’s mouth, james, lily and sirius jumped from their seats.

—oh he's cheeks are more red than his gryffindor scarf!

remus touched them with the back of his hand as he took off his coat and scarf and left them hanging on a chair. —it's because of the snow outside.

—yeah, sure it's not because of that slytherin girl.

—did she kissed you? —peter asked straight up.

remus cheeks grew even hotter but he didn't answer to the question.

—you gotta tell us everything, moony! come on!

lily dragged him next to the fireplace and forced him to sit on the rug.

—is it really necessary? —remus asked, dying of embarrassment as he glanced up at his friends, who were eagerly looking back at him. james and sirius went back to sit on the couch, lily and peter were sitting in front of him on the floor.

—of course, it is! —lily said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

—oh, come on, moony, we’re all dying here, we've been waiting all afternoon. we just want to know how the date of the century went.

remus rolled his eyes at sirius words.

james decided that it was his time to join sirius' teasing. —yeah, and with a slytherin girl, no less. did she try to hex you? or, i dunno, bite you?

—good question, prongs. did she call you a blood traitor between compliments?

lily let out a dramatic sigh, giving them a sharp look. —you two are absolutely insufferable, —she said and turned back to remus, her voice softening. —don’t listen to them. they’re just jealous you had an actual date.

—she didn’t hex me, bite me, or called me a blood traitor, alright? she was perfectly nice and we had a great time —. remus stated. james and sirius huffed a laugh.

—a great time is suspiciously vague. care to elaborate?

remus played with his hands, the heat coming back to his cheeks when he started to remember everything.

—did she like the flowers, remus? —peter asked with excitement.

remus stood at the door of the castle, waiting for you. every time he looked at the bouquet in his hands, the wildflowers he carefully picked himself, he felt a little ridiculous. maybe it was too much for a first date. what if you thought it was silly? or worse, what if you didn’t like flowers at all? what if you were allergic to flowers? —flowers, moony? bold move. what’s next, planning the wedding? he shouldn't have told james and sirius. they spent the whole morning teasing him, and now their words were stuck on repeat in his mind. but peter told him it was a good idea, you were always so focused in herbology so you'd most likely loved them. in the middle of all the overthinking, remus heard the soft sound of footsteps on stone. he looked up, and there you were, walking down the stair with a shy but bright smile. your heart beat faster after seeing remus and you had to focus on the stairs, the last thing you wanted was to trip and make a fool of yourself in front of him. still, you only could think about how sweet he looked, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other. —hi —you said, your voice a little breathless but smiling. —hi —he replied. remus held out the bouquet. —these are for you. i thought you might like them. your eyes fell to the flowers. it was a careful mix of pinks, yellows and whites. the gesture made your chest ache in the best way because you know that he picked them himself for you. —they’re beautiful, —you said, your fingers brushing his as you took them. —thank you, remus. i love them.

—yes! i knew she'd love them —. peter said, triumphant.

—tell us, moony, did you hold her hand?

—padfoot, the audacity! —james gasped dramatically. —you held her hand on the first date, moony? i don't know who you are anymore!

remus rolled his eyes while he rubbed his hands, brushing over his thick scars. he tried not to hold your hand, not because he didn’t want to, but because he knew you’d notice the scars. and though he knew you weren’t the kind of person to say anything unkind, the thought of you touching them, of you asking about them, made his stomach twist.

to avoid falling in the snow, you had hooked your arm in remus'. you were laughing, your boots crunching through the snow, the conversation had flowed easily as always happened between you two. you were so comfortable in his presence that you didn't even realize that your hand began to slide down his arm, fingers tracing along the thick fabric of his coat until they slipped into his, curling naturally around his hand. when you glanced up at him, his cheeks were red but his lips curved into a shy smile. remus didn’t pull away. if anything, his hand tightened around yours. the scars on his hands didn’t matter to you. you noticed them long ago, during one of those afternoons in the library when the two of you studied together. he was flipping through the pages of a book and you saw them. it wasn’t hard to tell that he was self-conscious about them, he always wore the longest sweaters, ones that hung just past his wrists and sometimes even covered all his hands. that’s why you never asked him about it, except when you noticed some fresh ones, you couldn't help but ask him if he was okay.

—she was the one who held your hand! —james repeated. —moony, i think this girls wants to marry you.

—we’ll start planning the wedding now. peter, you can handle the flowers, moony’s already set the tone with that bouquet.

and they all laughed, even lily, who usually rolled her eyes at sirius and james’s relentless teasing, and remus, who usually found himself the victim of their jokes, couldn’t help but crack a smile.

—but come on, keep telling us!

—well, we walked to hogsmeade and we first visited some bookstores. she loves reading, she was so excited, practically dragging me around the place to show me her favorite sections and i had no complaints, as you can imagine.

james and sirius exchanged a look in disbelief and for once, neither of them could think of something to say. they had never seen their friend remus like this.

it wasn’t that girls hadn’t shown interest in him before, they had. but remus had always been polite, reserved, never letting things go past a conversation about books or classwork. he’d keep his distance, waving them hi in the corridors, showing them shy smiles, remembering their names, listening when they spoke, even sharing his notes if they needed help.

but dating? that had always seemed beyond him. it was complicated, messy, and exposed.

—merlin’s beard, —sirius murmured not wanting to interrupt remus who kept talking about you. sirius glanced at james with wide eyes. —she’s breaking down his walls.

james nodded slowly, an incredulous grin spreading across his face. —and he’s letting her.

the moment you turned the corner, your eyes landed on the familiar wooden sign swinging gently in the breeze, your favorite bookstore. it was small, away from the main street of hogsmeade, often closed when you visited, as if it only opened for those who truly needed it. you gasped, catching your breath in surprise. —it’s open! and he didn’t resist, letting you drag him toward the door. remus could immediately see why you liked the store so much, it was cozy, small but inviting, and it smelled like coffee and wood. run by an elderly woman who greeted you both as you entered, she gave you a knowing nod, as though she’d seen your excitement countless times before. —it's good that you've finally brought your boyfriend here. a handsome gryffindor boy, no less, welcome dear. remus froze for a split second, his cheeks hot red. —oh, i... um... —he looked at you for help. you couldn’t help but laugh at his expression, though your own cheeks felt a little warm. —he’s not my... —you started, but the old woman waved you off with a twinkle in her eye. —no need to explain, dear, you don’t have to tell an old woman what’s plain to see —. she winked at you both before turning back to her counter. you nudged him playfully. —don’t worry, she says things like that to everyone. probably —remus gave you a skeptical look but couldn’t help smiling as he let you lead him deeper into the shop.

of course, he didn't tell his friends about this, he didn't even want to think about how much james and sirius would tease him.

remus continued talking about you. lily looked at him closely, wanting to know everything he could tell her about you. —she has good taste in books, she recommended me one about history of magic, she says it will make that class more interesting and help me pay more attention.

—that's so sweet of her. she noticed that you zone out during history of magic —. a sweet giggle escaped lily's lips.

remus rubbed the back of his neck. —yeah, i guess it’s not exactly a secret. —he shook his head, he didn't want to talk about history of magic right now, he wanted to keep talking about you. —then we went to the three broomstick.

—let me guess, she ordered something weird, like firewhisky, and you had to pretend to be cool with it?

remus rolled his eyes. —no, sirius. she ordered butterbeer, like a normal person.

—remus, you two seem to be very comfortable around each other —lily said, her tone innocent, but the mischievous twinkle in her eyes betrayed her. —there had to be a kiss.

sirius and james shared a look, they seemed genuinely surprised by lily’s boldness but they didn't say anything because they were more interested in remus' answer. the heat of his cheeks spread all the way up to his ears. james’s eyes widened as he caught remus’s expression. —so there was a kiss! —he exclaimed, pointing a finger at him like he’d just solved a mystery.

—do we really need to talk about this?

—yes! —all four of them said in unison.

you sat across from remus, the soft light from the lanterns of the three broomsticks lightened his face with a soft glow. it caught the silvery scars that lined his cheek, making them shimmer faintly, though he seemed oblivious to it. a single butterbeer sat between you, the two of you had been sharing it. you pointed at the corner of remus’s mouth. —oh, you have something, —you said, gesturing to the spot. —where? —he asked, looking confused as he swiped at his mouth. —no, it’s more to the... —you leaned over the table. —here, let me. you reached out and used your thumb to gently wipe away the trace of butterbeer at the corner of his lips. the moment leaned in closer, just a few inches apart now, his golden-brown eyes widened slightly, his breath catching as he looked at you. you closed the gap, your lips brushed his in a sweet kiss. remus froze for a moment but then he closed his eyes and melted into it. when you pulled back, his cheeks were pink, his expression soft as he said —you, um... you missed a spot. you laughed, your own cheeks warm as you sat back down. —i’ll get it next time.

the room went silent for a beat. peter sat there thinking, confusion spreading across his face. james was the one who broke the silence as he threw his head back, laughing. —that’s brilliant! the old ‘you’ve got something on your face’ trick.

peter was still confused. sirius shook his head. —she’s bold. i like her.

lily was smiling warmly. —i think it’s cute, —she said. —clearly, she’s not afraid to show how she feels.

peter’s eyes widened and he gasped as the realization hit him. —so she kissed you twice! —he exclaimed.

sirius groaned. it was working just fine, they were all surprised that remus had told them about another kiss and not the one they had seen from the common room, but they handled it just fine and knew how to hide it, all except peter. sirius threw one of the pillows at him. —you idiot!

remus frowned, it was true that you kissed him twice but how could peter possibly know that? —you spied on us?!

—spied is a strong word —. james said.

peter lifted his arms defensively, ducking as another pillow came flying his way. —no, not spy! we just… saw you two walking back to the castle. by accident! while we were… uh, checking the weather.

james smirked, leaning back in his seat. —exactly and that second kiss? didn’t think you were that much taller than her, moony, but there she was, standing on her tiptoes in the snow. pretty romantic, actually.

remus was mortified.

you walked arm in arm with remus back to the castle, his presence keeping you warm enough from the cold weather outside. the date went better than you ever could have imagined. remus was charming, thoughtful, and surprisingly funny. every moment with him felt genuine, like the two of you existed in a bubble where nothing else mattered. as you neared the castle, you found yourself thinking about how you didn't want the evening to end. you stopped face to face, you had to say goodbye but the words didn't come out of any of yours mouth. you didnt want it to end. remus stood there, his hands awkwardly tucked into the pockets of his coat, his gaze flickering between your face and the ground. —well... —you both said at the same time. —see you tomorrow in class. you nodded. —yeah, see you tomorrow —. your arms wrapped around him in a gentle hug. his arms slowly went around your waist, pulling you in just a little bit closer. when you pulled back from the hug, the space between you was closer, and you couldn’t help but notice how his eyes lingered on your lips. your heart beat faster in your chest, and before either of you could think too much about it, you stood on your tiptoes and closed the distance, pressing your lips to his one more time. remus took his hands out of his pockets to hold your face and yours pressed against his chest. when you finally pulled away, the smile on remus’s face told you everything you needed to know. —see you tomorrow, then? —you whispered softly, still a little dazed from the kiss. he nodded, his smile never fading. —yeah. tomorrow.

—and you should be grateful that i didn't let them use the invisibility cloak —. lily added.

remus groaned, dragging his hands down his face. —grateful? you’ve got to be joking.

lily's expression softened as she leaned forward. —but seriously, remus, it sounds like it was a nice date. it’s good to see you happy.

—yeah, it was great seeing that slytherin trying to suck your soul and you gladly letting her do it.

lily gave sirius a sharp look, but even she couldn't suppress a small smile at his teasing. remus, however, looked like he might die of embarrassment as he buried his face in his hands again.

—i'm so done with this conversation —. remus added as he stood up from the floor. he wanted to go to sleep as soon as possible so that tomorrow he would arrive earlier.

james just grinned. —you can’t stop now, moony. we’ve just started.

[two-white-butterflies]

a mother before anything else (i)

Description: After three years of marriage and a little boy, you and James decide to pursue different paths. Will you be able to pick up the pieces of your broken marriage during the process of divorce? Or will you have to settle with this new normal of a reality?

Pairing: ex-husband!james potter/muggleborn!reader

Warnings: angst, religious imagery

Your swept through the halls of your former home.

A frown permanently etched on your face seeing the tapestries and portraits that once littered your humble abode, now fill empty boxes that were about to be shipped halfway across the country.

It is truly disheartening to see the house that you filled with warmth and laughter become a place of sadness. It was once filled with the warmth of the sun, but now you can only see the bleak winter.

Little Harry Potter wobbles in your direction, at 12 months old, he was already able to walk independently, sometimes even able to escape out of his crib. He's already beginning to grow into such a clever little boy - you're almost beginning to regret leaving his father, but alas, there are things beyond your control. There are things that when allowed to persist just become worse, and you are not letting the faults of this marriage hurt your child.

"Mama, play outside?" Harry asks while pulling on your dress.

"You have to wait, Har." You hummed with all the warmth that you could muster. He couldn't understand why you were packing his toys into a purple box. He doesn't understand why Papa isn't around to help you. Harry doesn't even remember the fight that happened a few months ago, he doesn't recall the words exchanged - the words that convinced you to end this farce.

All he knows is that he had a sleepover with Aunt Pandora and that he had a wonderful time playing with the soil in her garden. He had fun playing with the worms and counting the days until his cousin will be born - Harry prays that it will be a boy!

"Noo." Harry groaned as if he had been waiting for an eternity. In all truths, he has only been waiting for thirty minutes, but to a child, it must seem like forever. If he was unable to spend thirty minutes without getting what he wanted, then how was he to spend weekends without your presence? Should you request for full custody? Would it be wise to keep Harry away from James?

"We wouldn't want to leave any of your toys, now, wouldn't we?" You teased while squeezing his cheek lightly.

The cutest child in all of England, you thought to yourself.

A child that the gods gave you to take care of... and that lingering question comes back: Are you doing Harry a service by leaving his father? By allowing him to live in a different home with an unconventional family, but a family nonetheless because of the love that persevered. Right. Love. You are doing this because you love your son, because even though your love for this country's freedom is great - that doesn't mean putting your son's life in danger.

Which is exactly what James is doing by being the face of the fight against the Dark Lord... does that make you selfish? Putting your family first before the needs of your country, of your people?

It does not make you selfish.

James shall have his battle and his delusions of grandeur, but you will not, for your desires have always been simple. You have only desired a home that is always warm, with a husband who has a gentle heart, a kind smile, and an ambition to do good. Yes, James has not failed you in all those hopes, but his ambition means putting the family in danger. He wants to save the Wizarding World, a world that you are unsure that you see yourself a part of anymore.

A sigh escapes your mouth, turning to look at Harry who was sitting in a corner, playing with a doll that Uncle Xenophilius carved for him.

Perhaps that is the difference between a father and a mother.

It was God, the Father, himself who sacrificed his only child to save humankind, but you doubt that Mother Mary would do the same - you doubt that the woman who held the messiah inside of her belly, raised him, pressed kisses upon his chubby cheeks and held his clammy hands would do that sacrifice. You would even raise the notion that any mother would sacrifice humankind for their child.

Does that make one parent better than the other? You are not sure. You do not want to know because you are a mother and the answer has always been linear. The answer has always come to you as easy as breathing, as certain as the dawn.

"Mama," you hear Harry's little voice beckon.

You turn around once more and to your surprise, James.

James was standing in front of you, with bags underneath his hazel eyes. He looks like a mess - and despite all of that, he still looks like the most handsome man in the world. "It's you," you said taking a step backward, creating a distance between the both of you.

"It's me," he whispers in return.

It looked like he had been crying for quite some time now. No doubt, also regrets the words that you had flung at each other. "What are you doing here?" You asked in a gentler tone, guilt gnawing at your bones. This marriage had once been built upon respect - and you will not allow that respect to crumble despite the marriage doing so...

"Pandora called me. She thought that we ought to talk," he fidgeted with his wedding ring. James glances at his son, who is staring at you with a confused expression on his tiny face. He had never seen this amount of distance between his parents before and it felt weird. It feels like that one time that he broke his father's vase - he was scolded and it made his heart feel sad.

His heart feels sad.

"Not right now," you answered, and he nodded in agreement.

"Let me help you pack, then."

James takes a deep breath before sitting down on the wooden dinner chair. Xenophilius had come earlier today to pick Harry up, and now it was almost noon - and not a single word had escaped your tongue. James notices the way that you avoided him, how you packed things quicker when he was around.

He knows that you are avoiding him because he knows you. He knows all the little things that can earn your fancy, make you angry, or, in this case, make you furious, and he knows that you are absolutely furious at him.

"Please, let's stop this." James pleads, his eyes watery with tears. He is not the type of man who sheds tears with ease, he'd much rather hide his pains through layers of humor and jests, but this time - it is different. It is like a sword is pierced through his heart over and over, every time that you look at him - he sees traces of warmth, but it vanishes as quick as it comes - the moment that you remember.

"We already talked about this. You made your choice, and I do not blame you for that." You answered with bated breath. Placing the last piece of clothing from your wardrobe inside of the briefcase. "It is that there are things beyond our control, and I do not feel comfortable living in a world where a Dark Lord is hovering over our heads." You explained your opinion once more.

He cannot blame your fears. He is scared too.

"If you leave then I will not be able to protect you," James says.

"They will not find us. I have spoken to Dumbledore, and I have taken precautions to ensure that we will not be found." You reassured.

James traces the intricate designs of the dinner chair. You always had a knack for choosing firm and sturdy furniture that looked like it would outlast you for thousands of generations. He supposes that you have always had a liking for things that lasted.

"When you want to hurt someone, you don't kill them right away. You usually take their wife, their children, their family..." James breathes.

"I'm divorcing you and a few weeks from now there will be papers drawn up about our marriage. How we had fallen out of love. Do you really think that the Dark Lord will go through all the troubles of finding your ex-wife? When there are rumors of love not having persisted between us? Would he even see me as worthy of exchanging the Order for?" You pressed and he could only sigh.

You have always been clever and smart. He cannot help but think that this entire divorce was your design to keep Harry safe. He does not doubt the lengths you would go to for love, and he hopes that things are much simpler than this. James prays that he had been born selfish, born to have a choice on whether or not he could fight.

But his being there is essential.

It means a lot to him, to the world, to the greater good.

"They do not even know of Harry's existence," you added.

Thank god they don't know anything about our son.

"I'll come back after the war, we'll fix this. We'll get married again." James promises.

Oh, you love him with all of your heart. You will fall at your own sword if it means keeping James alive, but you do not deserve his love...not when you are willing to turn your back on him during a war that could take his life. If only things were simpler. If only you did not place priority of your son above him and your very own self... but alas, that is not how things go. That is not the reality of life.

You are a mother before anything else. You are a mother before a wife, a human, and a witch. It is not that easy.

"James, how will I ever deserve you?" You fought against the tears.

"Don't say that," he shook his head and reached for your hand, pressing gentle kisses on its back before you cupped his cheek, wiping the stray tears that flowed from his hazel irises.

"You do not need me. You do not need to beg me for your time, trust, and patience because the right woman should give it to you. After all, if she truly loves you then she should offer it to you willingly, wholeheartedly, and unrelenting." You cried, the tears flowing out of your eyes like a newly opened dam. "- I love you with all of my heart, but I cannot follow you in this quest for freedom. I cannot risk the one good thing that I have." You apologized.

"I'm sorry, James." You breathed while bridging your lips together.

Mentally bidding farewell, no doubt that you already have enough love for a lifetime.

No taglists kings. Way too much sweats. Just follow me and put the notification button on then unfollow me when I'm done making this series. It's just a two-part series anyhow.

[eunoiaflow3r]

jealousy, jealousy - harry potter x reader

requests open!!

• warning(s): fluff mostly lol, harry pov, not proofread fr

• word count: 1.2k

• request(ed): “can you please write a jealous harry potter when his girlfriend starts hanging out with cedric?”

• summary: the request lol

————————————————————————

Every Friday after classes, Harry, you, Ron, and Hermione would find a quiet place to watch a movie on the projector Ron had snuck in. It was a tradition the four of you had come up with after finally each falling into your respective couples. You and Harry were first - you both knew you liked each other but never said anything. After a heated argument one day in the library (mostly you were frustrated he wasn’t being safe and smart with his life after an encounter with you-know-who) and he kissed you right in the middle of your rant. You two had been together ever since. Ron and Hermione finally admitted their feelings shortly after.

Tonight, you were late. Only by a few minutes, but enough to have Harry wondering where you were and how you were doing. What he didn’t expect to see or hear was your giggling followed by a deep voice coming his way. His head turned quickly to find you walking towards the group with Cedric Diggory at your side. Harry furrowed his brows and looked to Hermione and Ron in confusion. They didn’t look as worried as he was, but still offered no kind of relieving explanation. Once you reached them, he watched as you said goodbye and walked over to lean down and kiss Harry on the cheek. Cedric waved to the group before heading forward someplace else.

Harry cleared his throat. “Erm was that Diggory over there?”

“Yeah, it was,” you start, “I ran into him and we were talking about the Transfiguration assignment before we realized we were heading the exact same way.”

“Oh, hm, alright.”

And that was the end of that. Harry didn’t press any further. He didn’t see the need and he wasn’t the type. He was just glad you were at his side now and he could enjoy the movie with you.

The next day at breakfast, Harry listened to how worried you were about passing two of your classes. He tried to tell you everything would be alright but he could hardly get a word in. He didn’t mind though. He liked listening to you even if half of it wasn’t really making any sense.

“Y/N!”

Both Harry and your head turn to the noise. It was Cedric Diggory heading your way, papers in hand.

“Hello Potter.” Cedric says smiling.

“Diggory.” He nods politely.

“Y/N, here are those notes that I promised you. I was able to find them in my things from last yea I had buried.”

“Oh my God thank you!” Harry watches you exclaim. “You’re a life saver!”

Harry rolls his eyes as Cedric walks away. He’s even more surprised when you jump out of your seat.

“I have to go study these Harry, I’ll see you later.”

Unfortunately for him, later wasn’t until the night where he was finally able to see you holed up in your room, Diggory’s notes in hand. Like the good boyfriend he is, Harry brought your favorite snacks because he knew you’d want them and wasn’t sure if you had eaten or not. You told him all about what you had learned and understood now that you had the notes, and he stroked your hair and listened until you fell asleep on his chest. For some reason, even though nothing was wrong, every time you mentioned Cedric and his oh so helpful notes there was a little ball of fire simmering in Harry’s chest. Tonight he would ignore it, but he wasn’t sure for how much longer he would be able to do that.

“Do you think this Diggory thing is weird?” Harry asks Ron during a Wizard’s Chess game the next day. You and Hermione were off in the library looking for a next good read. Harry and Ron weren’t as interested in doing that.

“What Cedric? What thing?”

“Well, I don’t know. First he walks her to us on Friday and now he’s giving her notes?”

Ron stuffs his face with toast before answering, mouth full. “Well, I don’t know, sounds innocent enough to me, she’s been really stressing about that class.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

After the match, Harry and Ron make their way to the library and see you and Hermione side by side by side looking looking at a book that was thick enough that your foot could probably break if it was accidentally dropped. Unfortunately, Cedric was right in between the two of you.

“This is amazing.” You gleam. Harry watched as you smiled ear to ear looking at the pages in front of you. It didn’t help the ball of fire that Cedric was smiling too.

“Hey guys.” Hermion says. You look up and when you spot Harry you make your way over to him.

“How was chess?” you ask as you kiss him gently on the lips.

Harry kisses you back while still keeping his eye on Cedric. He notices that Cedric’s eyes haven’t left you. “Ron won. What’s going on here?”

“Y/N and I were looking for a really good fantasy book about this Herbologist and Cedric helped us find something even better since we couldn’t find the copy we were looking for. Guess it was already checked out.”

“Hmm.” Harry says.

“What’s wrong?” You ask.

Harry shakes his head as if to say nothing.

Cedric greets the boys and then bids you all goodbye. Harry thought that still his eyes lingered on you for a little too long, but nothing in your response to him gave Harry any pause. You weren’t giving Diggory any extra attention that gave any problem but still he couldn’t quite get the flames to calm down.

Harry held your hand as he walked you to your dorm. He was quiet almost the whole time and let you talk about the book Cedric had introduced you to. To be honest, and he hated, it sounded like a really good book. And Harry hated that. He knows it’s innocent and nothing is technically wrong, but still he was upset because Cedric lately has seemed to be able to help you with so many things.

“Harry?” You ask.

“Hm?” Before he knew it you had already reached your dorm, but he was lost in thought.

“What’s wrong? Honestly this time..” You ask.

“Nothing.” He says. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Harry, you’re lying.”

Harry wanted to deny and argue, but he knew that you knew him better than that and would beat the answer out of him sooner or later.

“I just, you know, Diggory has been doing a lot for you lately and the way he was looking at you today was just..ya’know I -”

“Harry, are you jealous?”

Harry’s cheeks turned a shade of pink that made you smile.

Harry leaned into you as you cupped on of your hands onto the side of his face and the other ran through his hair.

“Harry, I only have eyes for you. You don’t ever need to worry.”

You press your lips against his and he kisses back with fervor. He liked that your lips tasted like cherries for some reason and he savored it while his hands wrapped around your waist. He got butterflies when you moaned as he gently bit your lip. He loves the feeling of you against him and he just wanted to get closer and be able to be in this moment with you forever.

“That’s good to hear.” He says when you finally break away. He could feel heat in his cheeks almost hotter than the moment the two of you just shared.

“Jealousy is not a good look on you Potter. I prefer flushed instead.”

[fredgeorgegredfeorge]

Green-Eyed Monster | F.W.

For the first time ever, Fred Weasley finds himself jealous over the only person in the world he needn’t worry a bit about.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x f!reader

Word count: 8k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, oral + fingering (f!receiving, (lots of) dirty talk, name calling, praise/degradation, dom/sub dynamic, some nipple play, touch of a breeding kink, possessiveness/jealousy, some toxic themes, established relationship, swearing, drinking, arguing, angst, fluff, sorry if miss any!

first hp fic in a very long time! what better to post than this mess (jealous, possessive, sexy mess). basically pwp—let me know what you think! (Barely edited at all lmao my apologies)

You sat quietly at George’s desk, eyes focused on a piece of parchment as you both tried to break down the recipe George had scribbled down. There was a hiccup, a hitch in the plan of brewing a batch of Euphoria Elixir for the joke shop, and it was pushing back your plans to place them on the shelves this week. After a few hours of quiet deliberation on his lonesome, George decided to seek your help in hopes of speeding up the process.

So, the two of you put your heads together and re-read the ingredient list a million times, wondering how the hell it turned out murky green instead of sunshine-y yellow. The cauldron sat smoldering across the room, a rain cloud above it as the bubbly mixture spilled over the sides. Upon first glance, you had stated the absolute obvious.

“Isn’t that supposed to be a rainbow?” You raised an eyebrow, looking at your brother-in-law as he collapsed in his chair.

“Yes, you git.” George rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. You shot him a sharp look, warning him to be nice if he wanted your help. You knew George didn’t mean any of the insults—he was simply frustrated and maybe even a little embarrassed that he could not figure it out by himself. “Sorry, Y/N.” He conceded, realizing he came on a bit too strong.

“S’alright.” You assured him, stepping towards the desk where he sat. “Where’s the ingredient list? We’ll start there.” You offered, knowing you would help no matter how poor of a mood he was in. You loved George almost as much as you loved Fred, if you had to compare. Even if it was in a different way, you had a hard time refusing him when he used the same charm tactics as his twin brother.

After spending so many years in a relationship with Fred, it would be obscure for you not to have a bond with the closest person to him. Over the years, he’d surpassed a friend and had grown into your own brother. You were certain that no matter where life took you and Fred, George would always hold a special place in your heart. When the two opened their shop in Diagon Alley, you volunteered most of your free time to help them in any way you could, and whether it was tweaking new products or doing some of the dirty work, you never really minded.

That evening in specific, Fred was off on some ‘official business’, which really just meant meeting with a potential product buyer at The Leaky Cauldron. Last month, George took the burden of doing so, and they decided it was only fair for him to do it this time. Unfortunately for you, as much as you loved supporting them, it did interfere with your evening plans with him. So, sulking and trying your best to swallow it down, you distracted yourself with stocking shelves downstairs to prepare for another busy day ahead.

You were actually near grateful when George emerged from the office, calling out to you in desperation. It gave you a break from the monotonous back and forth, and someone to talk to. If it could not be Fred, you decided George was the next best.

“So, what’d’ya think it could be?” George asked, peeking over the cauldron that was still spitting back at him. He dodged out of the way, trying his best not to get any of the splashback on his new jumper.

“Well, from what you’ve told me, seems like you put all the right stuff in.” You deducted, pursing your lips slightly as you read over the list for what seemed like the millionth time. “Sad as it sounds, I doubt we can save it now, even if we figure out what happened.” You said, recalling your potions knowledge that Snape had relayed over the years.

“Right, but I’d like to know what’s wrong before I try again.” He explained, taking a moment to look over your sad expression. His eyebrows furrowed, his head cocking to the side as he tried to figure out where it was coming from. “What’s got your knickers in a twist?” Your eyes flickered upwards to meet his, your cheeks tinged red from the heat of the room. Your lips dipped into a frown as you shrugged your shoulders, brushing him off so you did not need to explain yourself. “I know you better than that. Come on, now.” He urged, placing his palms flat against the desk as he leaned towards you, a challenging look in his eye.

You narrowed your brows, keeping a stony expression as you met his gaze. “What’s it to you, Weasley?” You shot back, unsure of where your defensive nature was coming from. Perhaps you weren’t willing to discuss your relationship problems with your boyfriend’s twin brother, or maybe it was because you felt foolish for being upset at all.

“Reckon we’re past that, hmm? Your problems are our problems, and all.” He responded, also unsure of why you were being so reserved with your thoughts. Usually, you were an open book, especially with the two of them.

“My problems aren’t your problems, Georgie.” You shook your head, shutting down the ridiculous notion. “Let’s get back to the real problem, yeah?”

“No, I don’t think so.” George disagreed, his concern now over something completely different. “Is it about Fred?” At that, the tips of your ears began to burn and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. “Ah, I see.” A devious smile crossed his lips.

“It’s not a big deal.” You covered your tracks, tapping the ink-less quill against the worn parchment.

“I have a hard time believing you, considering you just lied to me.”

“Lied is a strong word,” you rolled your eyes, quickly realizing that there would be no escaping the conversation. “I didn’t lie about anything.”

“What’s he done?”

“Nothing!” You exclaimed, a dry laugh leaving your lips. “It’s just… I’m just being dramatic.” And it’s true, you were being dramatic. Well, maybe not fully, but that’s what you were trying to convince yourself of. “I just miss him, I suppose. I know you both have been busy, but I think maybe I underestimated how busy you would actually be.” You continued, knowing it was wrong to confide in his twin brother about your relationship issues. Still, it felt good to get it off your chest, to voice the concern and have someone shoot you down, just so you knew you were being irrational. “This is the third night in a row we’ve canceled our plans. I’ll get over it. It’s no big deal.”

“That’s a big deal.” He hummed, sympathizing with you to make you feel better. “Bloody inconsiderate, if you ask me.” But you weren’t asking him, and somehow his justification of your feelings only made you feel worse. “What? Not allowed to speak my mind?”

“No—“ you let out a defeated sigh, slumping down in your seat. “I know that, but I was hoping you would tell me I’ve gone mad, instead.”

“Blimey, Y/N, you’re allowed to be upset. We're busy, yeah, but you’re still his girlfriend.” George said, jumping slightly when the rain cloud above the cauldron let out a crack of thunder. “If you’d rather, we can forget the elixir and grab dinner instead. I’m not Fred, but I’m pretty damn close.” He gave you a cheeky smile, earning an honest laugh from you.

“S’alright, Georgie. Thank you, though.” You appreciated his kindness, but you were sure it would only make your predicament even worse, considering Fred’s recently acquired short-fuse when it came to you and George spending so much time together. It was odd for him to be so protective, so jealous of the one person in the world he needn’t worry about, but it seemed as though the new trait was permanent. Perhaps it came from the fact he was also missing you due to your busy schedules, and how it sometimes seemed you and George were most often left at the shop alone.

“You know, I have noticed that lately.” George continued, leaning against the desk as he reminisced over the last few weeks. “Always seems to be us stuck here together.”

“Mhm.” You mumbled, slowly realizing that you weren’t as insane as you previously thought if he was noticing all of the same things. “Let’s just figure this out so I can get home.”

So you did. A grueling hour spent recounting George’s every step in brewing the elixir left the two of you puzzled and even more frustrated. By that point in the night, you were hunched over the long list of his steps you had jotted down so you could (hopefully) discover what he missed.

“I dunno, Georgie.” You sighed. ��Seems like you did everything—“ you cut yourself off, leaning closer to the page on the desk as you caught something you hadn’t seen before.

“What?” He asked, his head snapping towards you. “What is it?”

“You said when you let it simmer, it was turquoise.” You said, looking up at him.

“Yeah, so?” He replied, confused why it was such a big deal.

“It’s meant to be blue.” You explained, a grin on your face as you relayed the information to him.

“Turquoise… blue… same thing, innit?” He asked, standing and walking over to you.

“Maybe to you.” You giggled, pointing to the piece of paper where he missed the step. “After you add the shrivelfig, you have to stir it until it changes color.” He walked up behind you, placing one hand on your arm as he leaned over your opposite shoulder. He smelled of butterbeer, likely due to the one he’d been nursing the entire time you sat together. You immediately noticed the warmth of his body, how similar it felt to how Fred touched you, but how drastically different it was all the same.

“Blimey, you’re right!” He exclaimed, his voice still soft so he was not yelling in your ear. “What would I do without you?” He gave your arm a gentle squeeze, leaning closer and pressing the side of his face to yours in a makeshift hug. His hand dropped to your back, lingering there as the conversation continued.

“It’s nothing, really.” You smiled, closing your eyes to enjoy the warmth for a moment. “So now you know. You can do it again, but make sure to stir it until it��s blue. By tomorrow, we’ll have it bottled and on the shelves just like we planned.”

“Our number one girl, saving the day yet again.” He sighed in relief. “I better get to it—“

Before his thought could finish, the door to the office swung open, cutting him short. Your eyes turned upwards, landing on a slightly drunken version of the boyfriend who’d abandoned your evening plans. The gloss of his eyes and the goofy smile on his lips led you to believe so, and the redness on the apples of his cheeks only solidified it. Only his cheeky grin didn’t last too long when he processed the scene in front of him, how close the two of you were, how heavy George’s hand seemed on your back and how rosy your own cheeks were.

Quickly, his jaw tightened, his gaze narrowing as he tried to decipher the whole situation. His nostrils flared ever so slightly, and his arms raised to cross over his chest. Immediately, you knew what you’d be in for; a long, tiresome argument that changed absolutely nothing. Instead of fighting the silent accusations, defending yourself for no real reason at all, you watched him with the same intensity while you awaited a snide comment.

“So what’s all this, then?” Fred asked, his face clearly conveying all of his emotions.

“Helping Georgie make the elixir while you were off getting sloshed at The Leaky Cauldron.” You muttered, noticing George straighten himself up in hopes of avoiding any further damage.

“I was not getting sloshed, I was doing business.” He corrected, defensive over the fact. “S’pose you were hoping I’d take a little longer, yeah? Give you some more time to cozy up with my brother?”

“Blimey, Fred. If you took any longer, I’d imagine you’d have to move in with the lad.” George took your side on the matter. “At least she wouldn’t have to worry about you missing dinner again.” At that, Fred’s eyes cut to you, immediately understanding where the underlying tension was coming from.

“Is that right?” Fred’s voice was no louder than a whisper, all of the pieces clicking together in an instant. “I don’t suppose the two of you had dinner? Let him fill in for me while I was gone?”

“No, we did not.” You snipped, standing as you gathered the ingredients for George’s second attempt at the brew.

“Yeah, right. What else did he fill in for, sweetheart? Anything you think I should know?” At that, your eyes widened and your face turned red. Your entire body felt like it was engulfed in flames, appalled that he would even think such a thing.

“Piss off, Fred.” You muttered, stepping out from behind the desk as tears stung your eyes. George shot you a sympathetic look as you pushed past his brother and out into the stairwell. You trodded down to the main level, swiping fallen tears away from your cheeks as you rushed out the front entrance of the building.

The cool air of the night was nice, especially after spending so long cramped up in the tiny office space, but it was not as freeing as you might have hoped once you heard footsteps following behind you. Without acknowledging him, you pulled your keys from your pocket, hoping that maybe he forgot his own set and you wouldn’t have to deal with his drunken arguments tonight if you got inside before him.

Of course, you knew that was childish and cruel, because despite being upset with him, loving him was the only thing you knew how to do. You unlocked the front door, holding it open with your boot-clad foot as he stumbled his way behind you. As soon as he passed through the doorway, you continued on your journey to ignore him and tossed your keys on the counter.

“Hey,” Fred reached out, his warm hand landing on your arm, stopping you from running any further from him.

“What?” You snapped, immediately regretting the harshness of your tone. He recoiled at the sound, shocked that you spoke to him in such a way. Usually the two of you saw eye to eye on everything, and in your long standing relationship arguing had never been your thing. Until you left school, you were certain the two of you had never been angry at each other, ever.

“What the bloody hell was that about? I leave for a few hours, and the two of you get on like that? Does that happen every time I step out?” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes again, wondering why this became such a problem in the few short months you’d been graduated.

“Merlin, Fred. You’re acting like you caught us in a broom closet.” You tried again to make your way to the bedroom, unwilling to argue a point he knew was blasphemous anyhow. “We were working, not fucking.”

“Yeah, but I bet you would’ve let him, right?” He grabbed your hand, spinning you back around to face him. He pulled you into him, his athletic build never leaving him even after he stopped playing quidditch. “Bitching and moaning cause I couldn’t be home to take you to dinner… if you were so upset, why didn’t you come to me, princess? Tell me what was wrong?” You could smell fire whiskey on his breath, feeling his chest heaving with anger against your own. As angry as you were, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of arousal run through you. The slight sneer on his face, the fire in his eyes, and the protective hold he had on you was sending your head spinning with thoughts much less pertinent to the topic at hand.

“Maybe I would have if you spared me the time of day.” You argued, finding yourself short of breath as you realized just how much he towered over you. “But, as it seems, you’ve been too damn busy to spare me a second glance.”

“Christ, when did you get so needy?” His rebuttal came easy, like he’d been waiting to have this fight for weeks. “Weren’t satisfied at home, so you thought my brother could do it for you?”

“Are you daft?” You hissed, feeling his fingers tighten on your hips. You hated that the feeling made you forget about your troubles, urging you to push the argument to the side and settle it in a better, more pleasurable way. “If that’s what I wanted, you think I’d be up here arguing with you?”

“That depends, sweetheart. Were you planning on getting caught?” He raised an eyebrow, the thud of his heart against his chest letting you know just how worked up he was. There was no way he truly believed you would do that to him, especially after all you had been through together. You wondered if maybe the lack of time spent with each other was getting to him, souring his thoughts because he missed you just as much as you missed him. “We may be identical, Princess, but he could never give you what I can.”

You hated to admit it, but for some strange reason, jealousy looked really good on him.

“What, a headache and a poor mood?” You decided to play his game if he wasn’t willing to listen to reason. If he wanted to fight, you could do it too. “I’m sure he could manage. In fact, he could probably do a hell of a lot more.” That seemed to strike a nerve in him, pushing him over the edge in an instant and changing the entire mood hanging heavy in the room. He no longer wanted to talk, but rather prove a point.

He took a step backwards, never easing his hold as he pushed you towards the kitchen table. He didn’t stop until your ass hit the edge, a mischievous look in his eye replacing the earlier annoyance. He had you locked in place, no intent to back down as he stared down at you over the bridge of his nose. Then, a small smirk turned the corner of his lips, leading you to believe he was also thinking of a much more simple way to solve your problems.

“Maybe you just need a reminder of who you belong to, yeah?” He asked, his voice quieter than it was before. You felt your mouth run dry, your eyes never leaving his as a dull ache between your legs began to pester you.

That would make you feel better, but he had pissed you off enough that you wanted to refuse him the satisfaction.

“Maybe we should get Georgie up here. According to you, he’d be the one to set me straight.” There was a slight venom in your tone letting him know you wouldn’t be letting anything go so easily. A low chuckle shook his shoulders, his eyes gleaming with a sinister look you weren’t sure you’d ever seen from him before that night. He shook his head ever so slightly, playing into you as he reached one arm behind you.

Your heart raced as you awaited a response, wondering if maybe you pushed him too far and crossed a boundary you could not double back on. You didn’t have to wonder long, because without a second thought, he cleared all of the items littering the table with one swift move of his arm. Papers scattered everywhere, floating through the air and landing all over the floor. Broken products and half finished merchandise for the shop tumbled off the edge, falling less than gracefully onto the tile below. Without ever breaking eye contact, he raised an eyebrow, daring you to say it again.

“You think he can fuck you better than I can?” He asked, giving you the opportunity to change your mind.

“Right now? Yeah.” You spat, wondering if he’d ever drop the act and get on with his day. “Seems like all you want to do is get on my nerves.”

“Yeah?” He challenged, his face so close to yours you could feel his breath on your skin. The tip of his nose grazed your own, his normally warm and comforting irises engulfed by his lust-blown pupils. Or perhaps it was anger that gave him the new look—you weren’t quite sure. “You’d rather go home with him at night? Wake up next to him every morning? Is that really what you want, princess?” He taunted, knowing very well that your heart was his, even if he found himself caught up in a few moments of doubt.

Still neglecting to give him any gratification, you nodded your head despite the sickening feeling that washed over you at the thought. As if he called your bluff before you ever said it aloud, he laughed at the certainty in your action, which only seemed to anger you further.

“If that’s the case, seems like I’ve got my work cut out for me tonight.” He responded, brushing the comment off as if it were nothing. If there was one thing Fred couldn’t ever turn down, it was a challenge, and since coming upstairs with you, it was only further proven to him that’s all this was. “Maybe I’ve gotten too comfortable, sweetheart. After so long, you think you’d know that you’re mine, huh?” Before he continued his tyrant, he used his hands on your hips to lift you onto the table with ease. The ache between your legs had grown stronger, more intense and impossible to ignore. You could feel the wetness soaking through your panties, and the thought of his strong arms lifting you so carelessly only made you spiral further. “Maybe I expect too much of you.” He theorized, recognizing the gleam in your eyes because he’d seen it a thousand times before.

He let his hands trail under the hem of your jumper, settling on the button of your jeans as he undid it with ease. You never let your eyes trail from his face, realizing that no matter how upset you were, it could never take away from how much you loved him. He was beautiful, his fiery red hair and the freckles splattered across his cheeks and nose creating a perfect picture. The softness of his complexion and the gentleness hidden deep in his expression assured you that whatever the two of you were doing was nothing more than an act. He knew you were his just as well as you did, but he knew the only way to settle the (admittedly, misguided) fear was to hear you say it aloud.

You helped him pull the fabric from your legs, wrapping your arms around his neck as you lifted your hips from the table. He discarded the clothing on the floor, paying no mind to it as he returned his hands to your bare legs. His eyes searched your face, carefully looking for any sign of discomfort. Instead, he was met with a pleading expression that only seemed to fuel his too large ego even further.

“No matter,” he disregarded his earlier rant, his eyes growing heavy as his hand fell between your legs. His fingertips grazed the thin fabric separating him from your core, a shiver running down his spine as he noticed the arousal that had soaked straight through. “I don’t mind having to show you. Least I’ll get to have my fun too, yeah?” He applied slight pressure to your aching clit, watching to see your reaction. Your eyebrows knitted together, your lips parting slightly as your hips moved forward into his hand, your body betraying your mind and begging him for something more.

At that, a grin encased his face, happy to see that he hadn’t lost his touch, even if your lives were vastly different and ever-changing by the day. He knew exactly how to make you feel good, and he took pride in it.

“See, Princess? She’ll always tell me the truth.” He taunted, his voice quiet as his eyes trailed down to his hand. You swallowed hard, knowing he had you in a stalemate. “Tell me again, who do you think knows how to make you feel good? Who does it best?” He was on a power trip, unwilling to slow down until he heard you admit it. Still, you stood your ground, pressing your lips tightly together so not a single sound could pass through. His grin faded, slowly sinking into a scowl as your disobedience remained clear.

He removed his finger from you, tracing the hem of your panties as he hooked his finger through the side of the fabric resting on your hip. He awaited an answer, giving you the opportunity to change your mind. When you kept your stoicism, he gave one, hard tug on the lacy fabric until it snapped in two. He used his other hand to do it to the opposite side, giving himself easy access to you without hearing a complaint on your end.

“So you don’t care who’s between your legs?” He continued, unrelenting as you stared him down. “Doesn’t matter who, as long as there’s a cock in you? As long as someone’s taking care of your pretty pussy?” Your cheeks flushed, your chest burning as the filthy words washed over you. “Doesn’t matter, sweetheart. When I’m done with you, I’ll be the only person you can think of. Surely then you won’t be able to forget who you belong to.”

His hand connected with your bare cunt, his fingers trailing through your arousal and settling over your clit as he began to trace slow circles into the sensitive area. Your legs trembled at the contact, finally feeling some relief from the nagging sensation that had been taking over.

“Fuck. Fred.” You whispered, giving yourself away immediately. He let out a low hum, pleased with the sound and knowing he was the reason for it. He had you where he wanted you, and now he just had to keep up the pace. You could feel his hardening length against your leg, distracting you completely from the pent up anger and frustration.

“That’s it.” He encouraged, his middle finger sinking inside of you as he let his thumb take over on your clit. “That’s my girl.” He made sure to accentuate the claim, never once letting you forget it. “All you needed was a little help remembering.” Slowly, he pumped his finger into you, keeping time with his thumb as he began to work you towards a climax. “You want to say it for me? Tell me what I already know?” Instead of responding, you let out a whine, your hips bucking forward into his hand. Although it wasn’t what he was looking for, it was just enough for him to keep going.

He curled his fingers as he pumped them into you, begging for a reaction as your hand wrapped around his bicep for support. You felt the tense of his muscles as he worked at you, only pushing you closer to insanity. You were his, undoubtedly and wholeheartedly, and you would be crazy to ever want anyone else.

“Stubborn little thing tonight.” He remarked, his eyes focused on the point in which his hand met with you, never breaking his stare as he watched his fingers disappear into you. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Need more, Freddie.” You replied, your eyes squeezed shut as you felt the pleasure pulsing under your skin. It had been a long time since you felt him this way, and your impatience was quite clear.

“My little whore needs more?” He teased, applying a little more pressure with his thumb. A gasp fell from your lips, sending your upper half leaning forward until your forehead rested against his. “Asking a lot from someone you aren’t being very good for.” He chastised you for your behavior despite being the one that caused the problem in the first place.

“M’sorry, my love. S-so sorry.” You rushed out, his fingers brushing against the sweet spot inside you only he knew how to find.

“That’s not what I want to hear sweetheart, and you know it.” His tone was firm, unrelenting as he continued his torment. You let out a groan of frustration, wishing he’d quicken the pace and give you what you wanted, even though you refused to give in to him.

He leaned forward, closing the gap between your mouths as he grew tired of waiting for the words he wanted to hear. He tasted like the whiskey that had been fuelling his poor mood, sweet and bitter all at once as his tongue grazed your bottom lip. You hated how easy it was for him to turn you into a mess, hated how easy it was for him to make you forget you were angry at all. You pulled him closer to you, holding his arm tightly so he would not pull away. You were stubborn, but despite that, you were showing him everything he wanted to see through your actions alone.

You broke from the kiss as a particularly intense wave of euphoria pulled your stomach. Your forehead continued to rest on his, holding you upright as he continued to give you just enough to keep you satisfied.

“Say it, princess.” His voice was low, raspy and laced with desire as he watched you turn into a mess below him. “Tell me you’re all mine. Tell me I’m the only one who can make you feel like this.” Instead, you connected your mouths again, letting a desperate moan out at the same time. He drank in the sound, his cock throbbing as his hips jutted forward into nothing. He was almost more desperate than you were, which only allowed for you to take him less seriously.

“G-gonna have to try harder than that.” You found a peculiar pleasure in leaving him on edge, giving him a taste of his own medicine as he continued to torture both of you at once. “Show me why I should say it, Freddie. Seems like you’re all t-talk.” You stuttered, tripping over your words as you tried to keep your composure.

He withdrew his hand from you, making you cry out in frustration from the loss of pleasure. Your eyes met his, desperation written all over your face as you protested his actions. Silently, he sunk to his knees between your legs, pulling you to the edge of the table by your hips. He didn’t spare a single glance at your face before his tongue connected with your core, the warm wetness of his tongue even more pleasurable than the rough pad of his thumb.

You laid back on the table, your hands sinking downwards and tangling in the soft locks of hair. Although you were denying him of the statement he wanted to hear, you could not deny that your last argument was wholly untrue. Fred was determined to prove a point, and he was doing it well.

You weren’t far off from an orgasm, his tongue making quick work at pushing you to the edge. The sounds falling from your lips were telling of your current state, and as delirium began to set in, your defenses began to break down.

He suctioned his lips around your clit, adding his fingers to the mix and returning to his earlier pace to torture you further. Every nerve in your body was ablaze with desire, need seeping from every pore as you realized just how badly you needed the release. Sick of the game, you finally broke in fear he would leave you hanging yet again.

“Oh, god.” You gasped, your legs resting over his shoulders in attempt to stop the constant trembling of the lips. “I’m yours, Fred, fuck!” You exclaimed, a sheen layer of sweat forming over your forehead as the knot in your belly began to tighten. “Only you can make me feel this good. Nobody else.” You whined, your fingers tightening on the locks of hair as you began to tug at the strands. You could feel him smiling against you, happy to finally hear you admit the truth.

Pleased with your confessions, he curled his fingers against your g-spot one last time, generously giving you the very thing you’d been pleading for. In a mess, your entire body tensed as the pleasure took hold. The orgasm washed over you, leaving your heart racing against your chest and your head swirling with filthy thoughts for the boy between your legs. A hum of approval let you know he was more than happy with your performance, and he kept his pace until he felt you relax against the table below you.

Once he knew he’d gotten the most out of you, he rose to his feet, towering over you as you laid below him. In the dim moonlight, you could see your orgasm glistening on his chin, only furthering his cockiness as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip so he did not waste a drop of it.

“Always taste so sweet, princess.” He whispered, using one hand to free himself from his pants and his boxers. “And it’s all for me.” He continued, slipping his shirt from his head. He used it to wipe his face clean before tossing it on the floor to join the growing pile of clothes. With shaky hands, you lifted your upper half from the table and pulled your own jumper over your head. “Isn’t that right?” He stepped toward, settling between your legs as his hands ghosted over your bare thighs.

You let out a whimper, his grip landing on your already sore hips as his eyes raked over your entire frame. Your gaze flickered to his cock, hard and aching for relief as he continued to tease you. His fingers tickled your stomach as he trailed his touch upwards, his palm landing flat against your breast as he gave it a gentle squeeze. He let the pad of his thumb brush over your hardened nipple, sending another wave of pleasure through you.

“Answer me, sweetheart.” He wasn’t playing anymore; he wanted to hear the words, and he was done with your obstinacy. He pinched your nipple between his thumb and forefinger,

“Yes,” you huffed, already forgetting the pleasure from your first climax as a whole new wave of need began to take over. “I’m yours, Fred. All yours.” You reiterated your earlier statement, now willing to do whatever he wanted of you to prove the point.

“Tell me how bad you want it.” He shot you a twisted little smile, almost as if he was getting off just from the thought of you begging for him.

“I need it, baby. Need to feel you, please.” You whined, reaching for his arms and pulling him closer. “Want you so bad, Fred. Been waiting all night for it.” You felt the tip of his cock connect with your cunt, his expression faltering as soon as he felt the wetness.

“God, you make it so hard to be upset with you.” He hissed the words through his teeth, using his hand to guide himself through your folds as he sucked in a sharp breath. He settled himself just over your already sensitive clit, pushing his hips forward ever so slightly to apply pressure to the spot. “Sound so pretty when you’re begging to be fucked.”

Slowly, he let his tip run back through your arousal, settling the head just at your entrance. He pushed himself forward, but just barely. You whimpered as you braced yourself for the feeling, only to be let down when he stopped himself from going any further.

“Fred,” you warned, catching his eye so he could see your desperate face. You hoped that if he did, he would stop being such a tease. “Please fuck me.”

“What was that?” He smirked, turning his head slightly so his ear was closer to you. “Didn’t quite catch it.”

“Fred, stop—“ you cut yourself off, letting out a huff of annoyance. You knew chastising him for his actions would only make him less likely to give in, even if it was incredibly hard to hold it back. “I need you to fuck me.” You repeated, clearer and louder in hopes of swaying his decision. “Can’t wait any longer, baby. Please.”

At that, he pushed forward the rest of the way, sending your entire body raising with goosebumps. The stretch as he filled you was exactly what you craved, and as he reached the hilt, his tip brushed against your g-spot so delicately that it almost made you come undone right then and there. Your eyelids grew heavy with satisfaction, focusing on how full you felt with him inside of you, knowing that he for certain would always be the one for you.

“That good enough for you, Princess? This is what you wanted?” He asked, letting himself rest inside you for a moment. He felt your walls flutter around him, pulling him even further and making it harder for him to resist you.

“Mhm,” you hummed, giving him a tired nod of agreement. You could feel him throbbing inside of, desperate for a release just like you had been moments before, but he was still trying to prove his point.

“Nobody else gets to have you like this, sweetheart. You’re mine.” He whispered, now sober from the alcohol but intoxicated by an even stronger, deadlier force; you. “He couldn’t fuck you like this, and you know it.” As he spoke, he withdrew his hips and slammed them forward into you again. The action stole the breath from your lungs, twisting your stomach with pleasure as your nails scratched over his skin.

He began at a pace, slower than normal but the force behind his movements making your head spin. You moaned quietly, lost within the feeling of being so close to him. He never failed to take your breath away, never failed to amaze you with his every move. You were so in love with him it sometimes felt like there was no room within your heart for anyone or anything else.

“Tell me, Y/N.” He ordered, his stare never wavering as he fucked into you. As much as he wanted to succumb to the sensation of you wrapped around him, he found it hard to push the thoughts of your earlier arguments out of his head. “You think he’d fuck you like this? You think he could make you feel this good?”

“No, Freddie.” You gasped, feeling the strength of his thrusts increase, sending the legs of the table wobbling. His fingers tightened on your hips, likely leaving behind angry red marks that would fade into reminders of him for days to come.

“That’s it, Princess.” He panted, his chest heaving as he tried to resist the pull of pleasure. “Don’t you think, not even for a second, that anyone can give you half of what I can.” You both knew this to be fact; nobody in the entire world could ever compare to him. “And why do you think that is?”

“‘C-cause I’m yours,” you managed to stutter out the response, watching him as the statement washed over. He brought his hand to your thigh, your legs wrapped tightly around you as he pulled you back on him with every thrust. His head fell back on his shoulders, the dim light of the room casting a beautiful hue over his already breathtaking features.

“That’s right,” he grunted, slamming his hips forward again. There was a thin layer of sweat sheen on his chest, the toned muscles of his abdomen flexing every time he moved. The exposed columns of his neck made your mouth water, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed back his own groans of pleasure. “Was that why you were mouthing off? You just needed someone to take care of you? Just needed me to fuck you?”

“God, yes.” You moaned, feeling the pressure in your belly begin to reach a peak.

“You gonna cum for me, sweetheart? All over my cock?” He smiled, looking down at you so he could appreciate the view. “Come on now, making a fucking mess of it.”

“Fuck,” you whimpered, his words hitting you hard and causing the tightening knot in your belly to tense even further.

“That’s my pretty girl. Just like that.” He continued to encourage you, studying your expression as pleasure began to twist it.

It didn’t take much more for you to descend into another orgasm, your entire body quivering as you cried out for him, singing his name like a hymn and he was the god in which you prayed to. Your throat was raw, raspy from the constant string of moans passing your lips. You were tired, almost too fucked out to continue on, but he was having none of it. He didn’t slow his pace as you came down from the high, instead speeding up and ensuring that he pulled your entire body down on him as he fucked into you.

“Freddie, please.” You breathed, feeling the threat of overstimulation begin to creep in. He would have had sympathy had he known you couldn’t take it, but he was confident in your ability to keep up with him.

“What’s wrong, Princess? Wanted it so bad and now you can’t handle it?” He asked, his eyes glazed over with lust as he felt himself approaching his own orgasm. You frowned at his words, now on a quest to prove your own point as you tried to ignore the stinging beginning to set in.

“I can t-take it.” You huffed, a shiver running down your spine as he reached upwards and palmed your breast. He gave the supple flesh a gentle squeeze, his eyes closing in bliss as he let himself slip out of the persona he had created.

“Being so good for me—just a bit longer now.” He whispered, his voice far away as his eyes settled over your face once more. “Bloody hell, Y/N.” he groaned, his forehead creasing as his eyebrows furrowed together. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

He slipped his hand between your legs, his thumb landing atop your clit. He traced slow circles, knowing you were a bit further behind him and unwilling to climax without giving you at least one more. He could see how tired you were, but it did not deter him from his commitment to pleasing you.

“I love you, Fred.” You whispered, softened entirely by the sweet look in his eyes. All of his previous anger fled, leaving him just as the boy you’d fallen so hopelessly for.

“I love you, sweetheart.” He hummed, his hips stuttering and his stature faltering. “Give me one more, yeah? I know you can do it.” And he was right, your entire body was ablaze with another orgasm much more powerful than the last two.

“Together?” You gasped, reaching up and settling your palm on his cheek.

“Yeah? You want to cum with me?” He encouraged your train of thought. “Want me to fill that pretty cunt? Really show you who you belong to?”

“Fuck yes, please.” You cried, your fingertips tangling in the locks of hair hanging over his ears. Your walls clenched around him, drawing him in and effortlessly finishing what you had started.

You felt his hips stall, a low growl leaving his lips as he pulled you down on him one last time. He managed to whisper your name as he spilled his release into you, the feeling of him filling you completely sending you spiraling on your own accord. You let out a defeated sigh, the tail end of it turning into a whine as your body went rigid. Your nails scratched at the skin of his arm, your hand on him the only thing keeping you tied to earth instead of floating up and through the clouds.

The both of you rode the high together, euphoria infiltrating every nerve in both of your bodies as he leaned down towards you. Ever so gently, he laid his head on your chest, which was still heaving as you tried to catch up from the lack of oxygen. He placed a plethora of small kisses against the warm skin, his eyes fluttering closed as he appreciated the comfort that came with your company.

Silence hung heavy between you for a few moments, neither of you sure where to go from there. You were still strung out on bliss, barely remembering what got the two of you in the position until he spoke again.

“M’sorry, sweetheart.” His voice barely broke through the room, so timid and shy that you almost missed it completely. “I know you’d never do that. Just got in my head, I s’pose.”

“I… I get it.” You sighed, twisting a lock of his hair. “If I walked in on that, after us being so.. you know. I’d likely feel it too.” You confessed. “I was upset that we had to cancel dinner. I am upset, but not at you.” You tried your best to explain yourself despite exhaustion eating away at your mind. “I’m just upset because I miss you. You’re so busy now, and I’m happy for you, really, but I miss you too.”

“You think I was bloody happy about it?” Fred chuckled, the tip of his fingers tracing shapes into your skin. “I’d much rather be here, with you.” At that, you relaxed completely, understanding that you had gotten too far into your own head. “It’s my favorite place to be. Always has been.”

“Mine too, Fred.” You hummed, smiling softly at the thought.

“I reckon I was a bit jealous, ‘specially at the thought of you and George spending so much time with each other. Would rather it be me, you know, sitting at the shop and laughing with you all night… taking you out for dinner… loving you.” Another gentle kiss was placed to your chest, just before he looked up to meet your eyes. The soft, warm, familiar sight made you feel at ease. He was back to being your Fred, the one you missed all along.

“Darling, you have nothing to be jealous about.” You promised, smiling as he placed a quick peck on your lips. “Though, if it means we get to have brilliant sex like that, by all means do what you have to do.” You explained. “Bloody brilliant, at that.” Without any further words, the two of you descended into a fit of laughter and the clouds that previously hung above your head seemingly cleared in an instant, easily proving to him there was really never a need to worry at all.

[rainydayathogwarts]

Concussions and interruptions - Harry Potter

summary: You aren't expecting to meet Harry's parents for the first time while you share an intimate moment in the hospital wing after he sustains another quidditch injury. obviously jily is alive and well.. slytherin!reader wc: 1.1k

You looked up at Harry lovingly, pulling your legs up on the bed as you rested your head on his shoulder, reaching up to brush long strands of hair out of his face. Harry scrunched his face up, smiling with his eyes closed as your fingers grazed his skin, before opening them again and returning your gaze. The hospital wing was oddly quiet, especially after such an intense Quidditch game. The day had been long enough, having to endure classes while the entire school hyped itself up for the big match, and Harry inevitably ended up making his day longer thanks to the addition of his new concussion. 

You’d waited until Harry’s teammates and friends had all left the hospital wing before taking your place next to him, hand resting atop his. He smelled clean, having showered and changed into a clean t-shirt and sweatpants “It’s a phenomenon how you’re so often the only person injured after a game.” Harry chuckled, squeezing your hand softly “Yeah well your house mates really have it out for me.” You cocked your head to the side, biting your lip. Well, you couldn’t argue with that. “Hey, if you’d been a Slytherin, that wouldn’t be the case.” Harry scoffed at your words, but you continued speaking nonetheless, a grin forming on your face, clueless to the wooden doors of the hospital wing creaking open and the two figures approaching you. “Besides, you look way better in green than red.” Harry raised his eyebrows challengingly, the movement in unison with his father’s just behind you. “Yeah well you look better in red than green.” 

You shook your head in disagreement, straightening up on the bed. Harry’s eyes were so focused on you that he hadn’t realised his parents coming to a stop behind you, waiting for their son to notice their obstructed presence. Harry stared at you with adoration, watching closely as you mercilessly tugged at your green tie until it became loose enough to fit around your head. You took Harry’s glasses of with care, putting them in the breast pocket of your shirt while carefully pulling your tie around your boyfriend’s neck. “I’m being serious, look.” Tightening the tie around Harry’s neck, you leaned across him to grab the mirror on his side table, unblocking the two adults behind you from his view. Harry squinted, struggling from the lack of visual aid, but the bright red hair of his mum and strong figure of his dad spoiled the surprise. 

“Here.” You huffed, handing the boy the mirror, but only then did you realise his distracted gaze. Turning around on the bed, your jaw dropped, immediately recognising both your boyfriend’s parents, neither of which you’d ever met before. Lily and James stood with locked arms and matching smiles on their faces, looks of fondness on their faces. You felt heat shoot up your neck at the recognition that they’d witnessed your intimate moment, and ducked your head away, distracting yourself by returning Harry’s glasses. Standing up suddenly, you freed space for Harry's parents on the bed. Lily ducked, pressing a kiss to Harry's forehead before sitting next to him, while James stood, watching you closely until he averted his watch to his son, stating "Got a call someone got a concussion." James grinned at Harry, who returned the smile, running a hand through his hair.

Glancing at your feet, you debated on leaving the hospital wing to allow the family some time alone. Your thoughts, however, were interrupted by a hand clasping around your shoulder. Looking up suddenly, you were taking aback by Harry's father, and more so how similar he looked to your boyfriend. "You're right kid, he does look better in green. Now you wanna tell me which of your friends knocked my kid off his broom?" You opened your mouth, turning to Harry in search for an answer, but only finding the kind yet intimidating eyes of his mother, turned back to James. "It was Malfoy." You said quietly, eyes wide in embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I can leave you guys alone." You muttered again, gesturing towards the tall doors.

"Nonsense!" Lily stood from the bed, approaching you while throwing her husband a scolding look. "James you're scaring her!" She whispered, though you're sure it was loud enough for even Harry to hear. "Honestly you're both scaring me." You spoke truthfully, and James barked out a laugh, pointing accusingly at his wife. "No sweetheart," Lily started, placing her hands on your shoulders and guiding you back to Harry's bed. "That's ridiculous, we've heard so many great things about you." Your mouth fell agape as you took your place next to your boyfriend once more, eyes going wide. Your strict pureblooded parents didn't even know about your relationship with Harry. You thought the same went with him. "Oh."

Harry placed his hand over yours, squeezing it tightly. His parents shot each other a confused and somewhat worrisome look. "Y/n's parents wouldn't approve of someone who isn't a slytherin or a pureblood, so they don't know." Lily and James both nodded in understanding, but now they were worried for you. It wasn't as bad as Sirius's parents had been, was it? An awkward silence fell amongst you, and you felt the need to fill it, mumbling "Let me take my tie back." Harry shut his eyes, letting you unfasten your tie from his neck and tying it around yours, occupying yourself with the quick movements which you deliberately slowed down to ponder over the situation.

"I'll give you guys some time alone." You spoke again, leaning down to pick up your bag from its spot on the floor and placing it on your lap. You glanced at Harry, smiling at him, before his hand was wrapping around your tie and pulling you closer to him. You gasped when his lips briefly met yours, feeling the heat creep up to your face, and abruptly stood, strictly avoiding eye contact with either of his parents. "It was nice to meet you!" You squeaked, trotting over to the doors in a rush, clutching the bag on your shoulder tightly.

Harry grinned, eyes glued to the spot where you disappeared between the two doors, before he was brought out of his chance by his mother. "Harry Potter, you are evil." She half-scolded, a smile on her face nonetheless. James took your spot next to Harry on the hospital bed, a wide grin on his face as he said "The girl was already nervous enough to meet us, now I don't think she'll ever be able to face us ever again."

"Yeah she will," Replied Harry, pushing his glasses higher up his nose "Give her a year or two."

[restandbloom]

Happy Birthday Gin ✨ Pure sunlight and fire 🌞✨

[crescentofthegods]

STORMY THUNDERCLOUDS!

pairing: harry potter x fem!reader

request: harry didn’t think seeing you with someone like dean could make him feel so… worthless.

word count: 2,667

warnings: FLUFF, slightly angsty bc harry compares himself to dean, swear words, lovely little smooch at the end, added a bit of romione somewhere, jealous harry, reader lowkey overthinks everything and it makes harry feel like shit, etc etc!

author's note: i’m sorry this is so late anon😭😭 i will proofread this later but i hope you like it!

taglist: @floweringrott ♡

more harry potter | masterlist | navigation

BEING ‘JUST FRIENDS’ WITH YOU OF ALL PEOPLE was proving to be a dangerous task for the Chosen One. Finally, he’d figured out his feelings—whatever bond the pair of you shared was certainly not cordial. And, he knew you thought it too.

            So, naturally, he assumed there was an established sort of… situationship. Harry hadn’t really talked about it with you, but he was just going with his gut; a stupid thing to think in all honesty.

            Clarification is key. But, because he hadn’t clarified it, he was forced to watch you have some sort of ‘conversation’ with Dean, who had just broken up with Ginny. There he was, laughing with you, touching your arm as you grinned in return, his fingers slowly trailing towards yours so they could intertwine—

            “You’re clenching your fists,” a feminine voice broke Harry’s agitated daze, his green eyes snapping towards Hermione, who sat before him, her expression written with disapproval. Ron was too busy stuffing his face to acknowledge the pair. Pressing his lips together in irritation, Harry cleared his throat, staring at his plate of food—bangers and mash. He didn’t even want it now, not with the image of Dean Thomas and you giggling together like you were the best of buds.

            The calm buzz of the Great Hall had returned. The sixth year hadn’t even noticed that he’d been staring for the last five minutes—why were you sitting with Dean? Sure, you shared Ancient Runes with him; that didn’t mean you had to walk and talk with him and even have lunch with the guy. You always sat with Harry—

            “Harry—you’ve summoned a thundercloud!” Hermione interrupted once again, sighing with exasperation as the brunette glanced towards the enchanted ceiling of the hall, only to see what his best friend had described—it was a thundercloud, and it looked ready to strike him; be that as it may, his bushy-haired friend was quick with her wand, causing the cloud to dissipate.

            “Thanks,” Harry mumbled, Hermione having to strain her neck just to hear him.

            “What is with you? You’re not even reading your stupid Half-Blood Prince book—”

            “It’s not stupid,” he was quick to defend his extremely informative textbook, furrowing his eyebrows as he looked away. “And, anyway, there’s nothing… ‘with me’. I’m fine.” Slurping his pumpkin juice, Ron practically guffawed, shaking his head as he placed his goblet down.

            “He’s staring again,” he nudged Hermione, Harry rolling his eyes as both of their gazes flitted towards you and Dean.

            “Ahhh,” she nodded, like she’d understood the situation at long last. “That makes sense, actually.” The Chosen One, who didn’t appreciate what his friends were trying to imply, simply scoffed, scratching the back of his head and forcing himself to stare at them instead of you.

            “I’m not bloody staring. You’re staring,” was all he said in response to Ron, zipping his mouth shut when he watched your approaching figure.

            “The fuck do you mean I’m staring—?”

            “Hi, guys!” you beamed, bright as a ray of sunshine per usual, sliding in right next to Harry as you flipped your hair over your shoulder, your strawberry-scented perfume wafting towards him as he tried not to collapse right in front of you.

            Everything about you was amazing. Your lovely, luscious locks. Your perfectly sculpted countenance. Your god-given body, not that he ogled it on a daily basis—Harry just appreciated how heavenly you appeared without even trying. An angel amongst men was what Harry once called you during a vulnerable moment… he meant every word. He’d say it every day just to see your graceful smile decorate your pretty lips, your dimples curated either side which made you shine like the planet Venus during the night.

            Despite every thought sprinting through his mind, every image of you imprinted on his neurons, he couldn’t let go of you and Dean. The way you grinned at him—only Harry could make you grin like that.

            “Harry?” your soft voice shattered his spiral, concerned eyes meeting his darkened ones, your fingers intertwining with his—Dean’s fingers had intertwined with yours—

            DEAN, DEAN, DEAN—

            “Are you alright?” Again, your murmur saved him from despair. But, it wasn’t enough. He couldn’t do this. Not now, not with you.

            “Excuse me,” he muttered, suddenly sliding out of his seat, leaving you utterly befuddled as he stormed out of the Great Hall, messing with the Windsor knot of his tie as he walked. You gazed at his retreating form, thunderclouds anchoring the beats of your heart as you furrowed your eyebrows, meeting Hermione’s look of indignation—it wasn’t towards you, of course, but it was definitely aimed at Harry, who fled the scene like some coward. What was wrong with him?

            “Is he okay?” you asked quietly, fiddling with your fingers, your gaze flicking between ‘Mione and Ron. “Did… did he leave because of me?” Everything between you and Harry had been fine earlier. Perfect, actually. He had walked you to your Runes lesson, listening to you rant about the difference between ehwaz and eihwaz—

            “Genuinely makes no freaking sense. How the fuck am I supposed to remember that ehwaz means partnership and eihwaz means defense? They’re basically pronounced the exact same way!” You complained, pouting as you did so, your expression crumpling even further as you leaned your forehead against Harry’s shoulder, hearing his deep chuckle, his large hand cradling your head. “Don’t make me go in there…”

            “You know you want to. Professor Babbling’s been off sick and she’s finally back—you said you missed her.”

            “Well, yeah, but…” you ended up groaning quietly, hiding in his chest, Harry’s grin only widening. He loved seeing you like this; an adorable thing, you were, clinging to him like some bunny.

            “Come on, love,” he murmured, his arms wrapping around you (he didn’t want you to go either, but he knew he’d be seeing you at lunch). His lips brushed your hair as your head tucked itself under his chin—anyone would think you were some odd, but normal couple with the way you both were embracing each other in the middle of the hallway.

            They helped him, these hugs. Distracted him, even. Voldemort, Slughorn’s memory he was yet to retrieve, his impending NEWTs mocks… Everything was just too much—

            But, you… you were his saving grace.

            “Fine,” you grumbled, pulling away, albeit reluctantly, lifting your gaze—your sullen pout still stuck to your lips as Harry laughed. “But you better meet me in the hall after.”

            “Of course. Always.”

            “—Are you mental? No,” Ron retorted, pushing his plate away, wiping his mouth with his sleeve; Hermione grimaced, grabbing a napkin and wiping his mouth for him as Ron tried to reassure you. “You know Harry. He’s… just a bit thick sometimes. He forgot that textbook of his.”

            “Yeah! Yeah…” Hermione agreed, tossing the napkin onto the ginger’s plate as she continued. “He’ll be back.”

            “Right…” you nodded, feeling a little relieved as your eyes fell to your lap, swallowing the lump in your throat. He definitely did not leave because of you. Definitely not. Right.

            Fuck.

            “Uh…” you cleared your throat, standing up, running your hands through your hair before readjusting your robes. “I’ll just go after him—”

            “Yes! Yeah, you do that,” Ron complied, Hermione’s head bobbing quite enthusiastically.

            “We’ll be right here!”

            With that, you zoomed off, politely pushing past people, your heartbeats growing louder by the minute—like a storm had concurred. Did something happen between Runes and now? Did you do something wrong?

            “They need to shag already,” Ron mumbled in your absence, causing Hermione to gasp, swatting his arm like his comment had offended her personally. “What?”

DISTRACTIONS, DISTRACTIONS, DISTRACTIONS.

            He was doing anything just to keep the thought of you away. In the comforts of his own room, nothing could bother him—not Dean, not Voldemort, not Slughorn…

            Harry was on the floor of his dorm (shared with Ron, Seamus, Neville and damned Dean), the Marauders Map in his lap, just staring at the footsteps of random students going by—the pads of his fingers itched the ancient parchment, his lips pursed as if he was concentrating. A particular trail caught his eye, the prints belonging to Draco Malfoy, who had appeared in a random hallway out of nowhere; what was he up to?

            Still and all, Harry did not care for Malfoy. Not when your footsteps decorated the page all of a sudden, leaving the Great Hall… by yourself? Shaking his head, Harry looked elsewhere, desperate to see where… well. Anyone. He couldn’t talk to you. Not like this. He was the definition of cowardice. Despair. Being jealous over a guy was… a new thing. Harry couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt like this—

            Is this what love felt like? Is this what his father felt whenever his mother chose Snape over him?

            The difference was that Dean was a decent bloke. Nice. Respectful. Good with spells. Similar to Harry in that sense. But Dean wasn’t… cursed. He wasn’t the Boy who Lived. He wasn’t going to be the boy who would soon be Voldemort’s demise—Harry knew that was his only purpose. You could be normal with Dean. You couldn’t ever be normal with Harry…

            “Who are you spying on now?” The gentleness of your question splintered his deprecating thoughts, his head snapping towards the entrance of his dorm in slight surprise. He couldn’t tell if he was pleased or aggravated by your presence. For one thing, you caused his anxious tendencies to disappear. Anyhow, he was still peeved about Dean.

            Fucking perfect Dean Thomas out of all people.

            In your eyes, Harry merely grimaced—you had your own tendencies to contemplate and overthink… Harry was not grimacing (at least, not towards you), rather his expression was a mix of happiness and dreaded envy. Anyone could misinterpret that. The Chosen One was far too expressive, so much so that he’d normally get into quite a lot of trouble with Snape because of it.

            “I can leave… you seem, um, busy—” your smile had dropped, and Harry immediately cursed himself, interrupting you swiftly.

            “No!” his exclamation caught you off guard and he cleared his throat, looking away with coloured cheeks. “I mean, uh, no. Stay. Please,” his quiet mumble was purely out of shyness, in fear of rejection. You were special. A rainbow within a mass of thunderclouds.

            Thunderclouds that no longer caged your aching hearts.

            Your smile appeared as quickly as it left, the corners of your lips quirked up in a way that Harry knew it was genuine. He didn’t know if he was gaslighting himself, but he could’ve sworn you only smiled like this with him and no one else. In Harry’s eyes, your smile had fifteen different variations at the least.

            Shutting the door behind you, you walked towards where he sat by his bed, careful to not accidentally trample Ron’s many socks that scattered his side of the room. You tucked your locks behind your ears before sitting down beside him, pulling your knees to your chest, your bright eyes finding his face. Troubled. He looked troubled. And, even though his two best friends reassured you, you couldn’t help but ask him…

            “Did I do something wrong?” Your usually placid voice had now resounded to a disheartened whisper, something Harry was unintentionally the cause of. His head whipped around to meet your gaze, his eyebrows furrowed in slight devastation.

            His jealousy had caused you to feel like this. Damn you, Harry.

            “Of course not,” he assured, pushing the Marauder’s Map off his lap, his attention fully on you and you only. You nibbled your bottom lip, looking away from him, your knees relaxing.

            “But then… Why did you leave?” Reluctance embraced your tone like it was an old friend. Harry knew you well, knew you well enough to understand your anxieties. Your nerves. He hated himself for even assuming you and Dean had something going on—it was now clear that that hadn’t been the case.

            “Fuck, I’m sorry,” Harry sighed; it was your turn to furrow your eyebrows. “It wasn’t you—it’s never you,” your eyes met as he spoke with that soft tone of his, a tone he only really reserved for you. “I was… uh,” he struggled to speak, struggled to voice why he was slightly upset. He would only look pathetic.

            You noticed this, of course. You always notice. Delicate fingers trailed towards his, your warm hand embracing his larger, calloused palm, comforting him. Reassuring him that you were there to listen. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he leaned against his bed, not finding the courage to look you in the eye anymore—the ceiling accepted his look of despair.

            “I was jealous, is all,” he admitted, bewildering you as he scoffed to himself. “Of you and… Dean.” His words had knocked you for a twist; out of all things, you hadn’t expected him to say that—he had been jealous the entire time? Your initial bewilderment dissipated, wanting to understand, well… why?

            “For what reason?” you asked, your lips parting as Harry’s head turned towards you.

            “Just… the way you were both interacting, I guess,” he muttered, not knowing how to explain it.

            “Interacting?” you repeated, amusement lacing your tone as he rolled your eyes—that smile you always adored found his lips.

“Shut up,” he mumbled, trying not to seem so affected by your quiet giggle in response. “You were both laughing and it just… set me off. I don’t know why,” he finished with a sigh, scratching his head after turning away from you, his eyes meeting the floor. “Dean’s everything I wish I could be. You might—” he stopped himself before he could go further, and that only increased your intrigue.

            “I might what?”

            “You might…” his eyes closed. Like he was defeated. Ready to accept his fate. “You might actually like me if I was more like him. If I wasn’t… the Chosen One.”

            He was met with silence. He couldn’t bring himself to even look at you, but you were in a plight of shock; you didn’t even realise that Harry had let go of your hand. Shock might actually be an understatement. You already gathered that the rumours were true—that he really was destined to end You-Know-Who once and for all. Nonetheless, what you were contemplating over and over in your head, was his confession.

            He liked me?

            “As in… more than friends?” Harry smiled then, a breathless chuckle escaping him—he adored you, adored that you always had to be absolutely sure.

            “Yeah. More than friends.” That was all you needed. Those four words. Those two sentences of reassurement to let you know that you weren’t just imagining this. And, you hated him, moreso yourself, for not telling you sooner. For making you overthink for the last couple of weeks.

            “Harry James Potter,” you exhaled, shaking your head with disbelief. “You really are as thick as Ron says.”

            “Wait. What—?”

            The softest of lips mingled with his as soon as you leaned in, testing the waters before Harry reeled you in completely, your hand landing on his chest so you could steady yourself. Your eyes were closed, Harry simply enjoying how they felt like his pillows, your lips. How they felt heavenly against his. Gentle, light, tender—nothing like the palpitating storms that bothered him daily. As you steadied yourself, his hands found your hips, bringing you as close as possible so you could settle in his lap, the pair of you unable to break the kiss as it developed into something more; hunger, need, desire. You could feel it escaping him—every word he couldn’t give voice to melted like molten, hugging your heart like it was something you were used to; the thunderclouds disappeared long ago, and yet, Harry was making sure they were gone for good.

            Lips locked together in a lovely embrace. Soft clicks filling the dorm like this was a normal occurrence.

            Harry had never felt more at home. You in his arms. You in his heart.

[weasleysbliss]

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬, 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 | 𝐭𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐨 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞

pairing: tom riddle x slytherin!reader

summary: each week, y/n finds a new anonymous letter waiting for her everywhere she goes—poetic, mysterious, and increasingly intense. as the notes grow more captivating and unsettling, y/n becomes determined to uncover the writer’s identity. one day, she discovers it’s tom riddle. now, y/n must decide how to handle the dangerous boy who’s been watching her from the shadows.

warnings: slight cursing, small mention of smut

word count: 1.8k

➽────────────────❥

You sighed in exhaustion, using your remaining stamina to climb the stairs to your dorm room. As you reached the door, you unlocked it with your wand. Finally, you could rest, you thought. You glanced over at your bed—it had never looked more comfier.

You huffed, still remembering you had to shower. Placing your tote bag on your desk, you caught sight of a piece of paper in the corner of your eye. "I probably forgot to throw this out," you thought. But just as you were about to toss it into the trash, something stopped you, and you unfolded the note instead.

The note read, “You don’t notice me, but I see you. You are intriguing—more than anyone here. You have my attention, Y/N.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion and annoyance. "What twit is fucking around with me?" you muttered, raising your voice slightly as you slammed the note back on the table. You didn’t throw it out, though. Something told you not to.

Despite the irritation from the note, you carried on with your night and eventually fell into a restless slumber.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

A week passes with no new notes in sight—not that you’ve given it much thought. The first one had slipped from your mind soon after you received it.

You were in your Charms classroom, half-listening to Professor Flitwick as his voice reminded you of those ambient sounds that help you fall asleep. You were about to doze off any second.

"Turn to page 416 in your textbooks," Flitwick instructed. You clicked your tongue under your breath.

You pulled your textbook from your bag and began flipping through the pages until you reached page 416. And there it was. A note. Without thinking, assuming it was the same as the last one, you unfolded it.

"You read by the fire every evening. Do you ever wonder if someone is looking back?"

no. fucking. way.

Fear gripped you as you read the note. Someone is watching me? Panic rushed through your mind. Am I being stalked? Too many unsettling thoughts swirled in your head.

The class wasn’t even over, but you couldn’t stay another minute without spiraling into overthinking. In a hurry, you grabbed your tote bag and the note, then stormed out of the classroom. You heard Professor Flitwick call your name, but you didn’t bother turning around.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The week after the Charms class incident, you began to expect the notes to appear wherever you went. But now, you found yourself paying close attention to anyone who might seem suspicious or could be the culprit behind this note fiasco.

Unfortunately, no one was able to catch your attention. This was a guessing game, and you were terribly losing. Not one person you could suspect.

You had classes with most of your fellow Slytherins, excluding females—Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, and Tom Riddle. But there’s no way any of them could be behind this, right?

Usually, you and your friends would hang out after school—whether it was catching up, gossiping, or filling each other in on the latest boy drama. Standing in the circle with your friends, you listened to them, but you made sure to stay alert, keeping an eye on your surroundings.

You still weren’t going to give up.

On this particularly chilly day, you were lucky enough to remember your jacket. Your hands were starting to freeze as the cold air bit at them. You stuffed your hands into the pockets, hoping for some warmth, but instead, you felt something—paper.

You pulled it out. Another note.

Excusing yourself from your friends, you claimed you had to go back to your dorm to start your pile of assignments. On your way there, you unfurled the note once again.

"You deserve admiration from someone who sees your true potential. I could give you the world—or take it from anyone who gets in my way."

Frustration bubbled inside you, eating away at your patience. You still had no idea who was behind these notes.

Once you reached your dorm, you tossed the note aside and began searching for the other two you’d hidden around the room.

To your luck, you found the other two. You laid all three notes side by side, carefully examining each one as you read them over again.

"Whoever this is, they must be really slick around me," you muttered under your breath, your annoyance growing with each passing second.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Another week passed, and you were expecting a note once again. You silently hoped this would be the last one.

You were walking swiftly down the hallway, your hair swaying with each step. You noticed Tom Riddle approaching, but as he passed, he suddenly stopped.

"Something's waiting for you on your bed," he said. Before you could respond, he turned and disappeared into the crowd, vanishing in less than a second.

Your expression froze, a mixture of confusion and worry spreading across your face. How does he know something’s waiting for me in my dorm? Did he get inside? How? Or does he know someone who put something there? Is it another note? What is it?

You shook the thoughts from your mind and quickened your pace towards your dorm. Anticipation surged through you—you had to find out what it was.

Once you reached your dorm, your eyes immediately went to what Tom had mentioned—your bed. There, lying on the bed, was a note. You snatched it up and opened it without a second thought.

"If you’re bold enough, meet me at the Astronomy Tower at midnight. Let’s see if you’re worthy of the attention you’ve earned." Tom’s name was signed at the bottom.

It was Tom Riddle who had been writing to you all this time. He was the same person who had snuck into your dorm and secretly placed the notes in your textbook and jacket.

You had to admit, Tom was undeniably attractive. His masculine features were striking, and you couldn't help but notice how handsome he was. Despite his looks, one thing about Tom—he always got what he wanted.

You had a small crush on him back in your third year, but it never lasted long—you never thought he’d reciprocate those feelings.

Now, though, what awaited you tonight was all you could think about.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

11:50 PM. Ten minutes until midnight. That gave you just enough time to make your way to the Astronomy Tower. You left your dorm room, silently praying this whole thing wouldn’t end up a disaster—and hoping you wouldn’t get caught by a professor for being out so late.

Your nerves were getting the best of you. Usually, it wasn’t an issue when it came to boys—after all, you were the one who flustered them most of the time. But this was different.

It was Tom Riddle. He was unlike any other Slytherin guy you’d met—more charming, reserved, and undeniably alluring.

As you made your way to the Astronomy Tower, your mind raced, running through different scenarios of how this whole situation could unfold.

You didn’t realize how much time had passed while your mind scrambled, but when you glanced up, the clock had already struck 12:00 AM. Thankfully, you were just in time. With one final step, you reached the top of the Astronomy Tower.

And there he was—the man himself, Tom Riddle. His back was faced to you as he gazed out at the night sky, waiting for your arrival.

You didn't even get a chance to make yourself known at the scene, because he already had. He felt your presence behind him, and turned to face you. Your eyes locked with his deep, dark ones.

"You came," he said, his voice smooth, a touch of satisfaction lacing his words.

"You wanted me to," you replied, your tone sharper than you intended. After all the trouble with the letters, it felt impossible to hold back. "What do you want from me, Tom?"

He took a step closer, his expression unreadable. "I thought I made it clear. I don’t want anything from you—I want you."

Your breath hitched, the weight of his words sinking in. "And if I don’t want to be part of... whatever this is?"

Tom’s lips twitched into the faintest hint of a smirk, though his gaze softened. "I don’t think you’d be here if you didn’t. You’re curious, drawn to me, just as I am to you. Admit it."

You hesitated, every warning in your head screaming to turn and leave, but your feet stayed rooted in place. "You don't know me, Tom," you said, putting sharp emphasis on the word 'don’t'.

"Oh, but I do," he spoke, still stepping closer. His voice dropped, sending a shiver down your spine. "I’ve watched you, studied you. You’re clever, gorgeous, ambitious, and so much stronger than you give yourself credit for. You could be extraordinary—we could be extraordinary together."

The weight of his words wrapped around you like a spell, leaving you dizzy and unsure. "What if I don’t want that kind of power?" you whispered, barely trusting yourself to speak.

Tom leaned in, his voice low and filled with something almost tender. "Then I’ll prove to you why you do."

His hand brushed yours, and you didn’t pull away. Instead, you met his gaze, the intensity there making your heart race. "I haven’t decided yet," you admitted softly.

"Then let me give you something to think about," he murmured. His fingers tilted your chin up, and for a moment, he paused, his dark eyes searching yours. When you didn’t move, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was both gentle and inarguably commanding.

The kiss was so intoxicating it almost felt like you were floating. His lips were astonishingly soft, almost unreal in their tenderness. They perfectly aligned with yours as you both explored each other’s mouths. His hands gently slid up your skirt, fingers tracing your smooth skin. The combination of his touch and the kiss sent waves of sensation through you, making it impossible to want to pull away from either.

It ended as quickly as it began, leaving you breathless.

His hands remained under your skirt, his palms hugging your curves as if they were made for you. His fingers trailed lower to your already-soaked cunt, grazing your sweet spot. He knew that touching you in a sensitive place would manipulate you into wanting him more—hence why he did it. Heat rushed to your cheeks, and a soft, involuntary whimper escaped your lips at his teasing touch.

"You're already mine," he murmured, his voice low and sultry. "But I could show you so much more—if you let me." His hand came out of your skirt, and made it's way to your waist. He ended with a passionate kiss to your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a small bite that made you wince—though the sensation only fueled your desire.

"I’ll wait for your answer, darling." he said, his voice smooth as silk. With one final, lingering glance—seductive and full of promise—he turned and disappeared into the shadows, leaving you alone in the cold night air. Your heart raced, and your mind was a blur, overwhelmed with thoughts of him and a deep, undeniable desire.

Needless to say, he undoubtedly won a chance with you.

He was yours, in secret.

[very-gay-poet]

what if, in a memory or something, in my fic I'm always yapping about I put in that hc of the lifelines and how Lily was freaking out (or james can see them both freaking out) over how short hers was and he's like "dw mines that short too" (its bc they died on the same day) but like??? what if I put that in??? and make Harry witness??? make him know what it means??? because he saw what awaits for them on the day that line stops. what if guys what if??????

[bonniesfamiliar]

"You were just a child. It wasn't your fault," Applies to all those children who were forced to save the world at such a young age.

[fear-less]

₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 there'll be happiness after you

paring: remus lupin x f!reader x secret marauder

➥ in which, remus breaks up with you and one of his friends (who secretly liked you before you and remus had even gotten together) helps you move on with the break up.

warnings: angst, happy ending, prolly tons of errors..oops, semi rushed, idk what else:3

2.5k words

It was a chilly evening at Hogwarts. The grounds had begun to fall silent as the last few students trickled inside for dinner. You were supposed to be in the Great Hall with your friends, but something had pulled you to the lake instead. The stillness of the water reflected the state of your mind—unsettled, confused, and too tangled to make sense of.

You perched at the edge of the lake, your feet dangling just above the surface. The cool breeze tugged at your hair, but you barely noticed. The ache in your chest was louder than the wind, and every time you tried to distract yourself, your thoughts would return to him: Remus Lupin.

You used to feel so certain about him, about the future the two of you could build together. But now? Now it all seemed so far away, as though it had never really existed. You closed your eyes, allowing the tears to pool behind your eyelids before they fell. Remus had walked away, and in doing so, he had taken with him a part of you. His words echoed in your mind, sharp and bitter: “I’m not good enough for you. You deserve someone who can give you a future.”

You had argued, of course. You’d told him you didn’t care about his past or the darkness that followed him, that you loved him for him—for all of him. But his fears had won, as they always had.

You hadn’t expected to feel so empty.

The day Remus had told you it was over, you felt like you were watching the most beautiful thing you’d ever known slip away in slow motion. The setting sun cast long shadows in the Gryffindor common room as you sat together on the couch, the space between you palpable.

“Y/N, please understand,” Remus had pleaded, his voice soft but firm. “I love you more than I can say, but I can’t keep asking you to love someone like me.”

His words had struck you like a blow to the chest. Your heart had started racing, and your hands had trembled in your lap. “Remus, what do you mean? I want this—us—so badly.”

He had sighed, running a hand through his disheveled brown hair. “I can’t be what you need. I won’t let you waste your life with someone who’s broken.”

You hadn’t been able to stop the tears from falling. “You’re not broken. You’re just... you. I don’t need someone perfect.”

But he had only shaken his head, his eyes filled with regret. “I can’t be the person you deserve. You deserve someone who can be with you, without fear, without secrets. You deserve someone who can love you without hurting you.”

In that moment, something in you had shattered. The love you had felt so sure of—the love you had given him so completely—wasn’t enough to keep him from running. And as you watched him walk away, you felt something break inside you, something that hadn’t been fixed since.

The next few weeks were a blur. You still went to classes, you still spent time with your friends, but everything felt off. Every time you saw Remus, your heart would flutter, only to crash when you remembered that things were different now. He no longer looked at you like he used to, with the warmth and affection you had once seen in his eyes.

And you? You were pretending, trying to fit in with a world that felt too bright, too loud. Your thoughts kept drifting to the past, to all the memories you had built with him, and every time, the hollow ache in your chest grew stronger.

One evening, as you found yourself alone on the grounds again, your thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice.

“Y/N?”

You glanced up to see James Potter walking toward you. His usual confidence was tempered by the concern in his eyes. “Hey, what’s going on? You’ve been... off lately.”

You offered a faint smile, shrugging. “Just tired, I guess. A lot on my mind.”

James sat beside you, his long legs extending in front of him as he stared at the lake, not pressing you for an answer. It wasn’t that James didn’t know what had happened—it was obvious to everyone—but he never pushed. He just was there.

“You know,” James said casually, breaking the silence, “there’s this little thing called ‘talking about it.’” His tone was teasing, but there was a softness underneath that made your heart ache a little.

“I don’t really know where to start,” you admitted, looking at your hands. “I... I just feel like I gave everything, and now I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

James turned his head to look at you, his brow furrowing. “You’re still you. You’re just a little lost right now.”

You blinked, surprised at his insight. “How do you know?”

James shrugged, a half-smile tugging at his lips. “I don’t know. You just have that look about you. Like you’re carrying something heavy. But you don’t have to carry it alone, Y/N.”

You swallowed, unsure of how to respond. His words, his kindness, made something stir inside of you. It wasn’t love—not yet—but it was something else. Something that felt safe.

“I think I’ve been pretending a little too much,” you said softly. “I’ve been trying to act like I’m fine, but I’m really not.”

James met your gaze, his expression genuine. “It’s okay to not be fine, you know? You don’t have to put on a brave face all the time.”

For the first time in weeks, you felt the tears you’d been holding back threaten to spill over. But James didn’t pull away. He didn’t rush to comfort you, either. He just stayed beside you, steady and calm.

The days passed, and you spent more time with James. It wasn’t romantic at first, not in the way you’d imagined falling for someone. It wasn’t instant sparks and overwhelming chemistry—it was easy, familiar, and comforting.

James never pushed. He let you come to him when you were ready. He’d show up with a cup of tea when you were studying late in the library, or crack a joke when you looked like you were spiraling into your own head. Slowly, you began to feel the tightness in your chest loosen. It wasn’t a fix—it wasn’t a cure—but it was a start.

One evening, as the two of you sat outside on the Quidditch pitch, the cool breeze whipping through your hair, James spoke up.

“You know, I think you’re allowed to feel angry about it all. About Remus.”

You stiffened, surprised. “I don’t want to be angry.”

“I’m not saying you should stay angry forever,” James replied gently. “But you’ve been through a lot. And sometimes, it’s okay to be angry before you can move on.”

You looked at him, his expression open and understanding. It was a rare thing—someone who didn’t shy away from your pain, someone who let you feel what you needed to feel. “I guess you’re right.”

James reaches over and nudges you with his elbow, a teasing glint in his eyes. “You know, you don’t have to do this alone. I’m here, even if you just need someone to listen.”

There was a warmth in his words that made something stir inside of you, something both comforting and unfamiliar. You weren’t sure if it was love yet—but it was a quiet understanding. A connection.

The crisp evening air was filled with the sound of cheers as Gryffindor’s Quidditch team celebrated their victory. James was at the center of the group, his eyes sparkling with excitement, but you found yourself watching him from the sidelines. You hadn’t realized how much time had passed since you last looked at him like this—really looked at him.

The glow of the setting sun reflected off the Quidditch pitch, casting long shadows across the field, and in that moment, something inside you stirred. It wasn’t love—not yet—but it was something more than what you’d ever expected.

James had always been there for you—since the breakup with Remus, since the pain that had felt endless. He never pushed, never tried to fill the empty space that Remus had left. Instead, he simply stayed by your side, offering comfort in small, quiet ways. And over time, you had come to realize that the man standing before you was someone you could trust. Someone you didn’t have to try so hard to impress. Someone who understood without words.

When the last of the cheering died down, James broke away from his teammates, scanning the crowd for you. As his eyes found yours, a smile spread across his face. It was an effortless, warm smile—the kind that made your heart flutter without warning.

"Hey," he said as he jogged up to you, his cheeks flushed from the game, his dark hair sticking out in all directions. "We did it! Did you see that last goal?"

You laughed softly, standing up from where you had been sitting on the stone bench. "I saw it. You were brilliant as always."

He grinned, brushing a hand through his messy hair. "What can I say? I'm a natural." Then his expression softened slightly, and he looked at you more seriously. "But seriously, I’m glad you were here to watch. Means a lot to me."

Something about his words—simple, genuine—struck a chord in you. Your heart swelled, and for the first time in months, the pain you’d carried around seemed to subside, just for a moment.

"I’m glad to be here too, James," you replied, your voice quieter than usual.

James tilted his head slightly, studying you with those warm, brown eyes of his. The playfulness of earlier had faded, replaced by something softer. "Are you okay? You’ve been distant lately. More than usual."

You hesitated. It was easy to say you were fine, but lately, you had begun to realize just how much you had been holding back. The grief. The confusion. The old feelings for Remus that you were still trying to untangle.

"I think... I think I’m starting to be," you said slowly. "Not all the way there, but I’m getting there."

James gave you a half-smile, the kind that showed he wasn’t quite buying it, but he didn’t push further. Instead, he stepped a little closer, his presence warm and steady beside you.

"I’m glad," he said, his voice low. "I’m really glad."

You looked up at him then, and there was something about the way he was looking at you—his face open, without any pretense—that made something inside you click. You didn’t have to force yourself to feel something. With James, you simply were. No expectations, no pressure.

"I didn’t expect this," you murmured, feeling a little embarrassed but also strangely relieved. "You’ve always been there for me, James. Even when I didn’t think I deserved it."

He shook his head, smiling as though it was the most natural thing in the world. "You don’t have to deserve it, Y/N. You’re my friend. And I... I care about you more than you know."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. There was no fanfare, no grand gestures, but in that moment, his honesty was enough.

"You’ve been so patient with me," you whispered, almost to yourself, "and I don’t know what I’d have done without you."

James didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stepped closer, his shoulder brushing yours as he gazed at the distant horizon. The silence between you felt comfortable, not awkward. And when he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper.

"I’ve always had a soft spot for you, Y/N," he confessed, his tone lighter but carrying an honesty you hadn’t expected. "I know you’ve been through a lot. And I’m not trying to replace Remus or anything. I just..." He paused, his voice growing more serious. "I just want you to know that I’m here for you. Whatever that means."

The sincerity in his words made your chest tighten. You didn’t know exactly what it meant either, but something was shifting. And for the first time in a long time, you felt a glimmer of hope that maybe—just maybe—you could start something new. A chapter you hadn’t anticipated, but one that felt right all the same.

Before you could say anything more, James turned to face you, his hand moving as though to catch your eye. "I don’t know what the future holds, Y/N," he said, his voice softer now, "but I want to find out with you. Even if it’s just one step at a time."

You swallowed, feeling an unexpected surge of emotion. All the walls you’d built up in your heart were starting to crumble, piece by piece, and in their place was something both terrifying and beautiful.

"I think I’m ready to take that step," you whispered, meeting his gaze.

James’ face broke into a smile that felt brighter than any Quidditch victory. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," you replied, the word tasting like a promise. Not just to him, but to yourself as well.

In the weeks that followed, things changed between you and James—but in the way that felt comfortable, not rushed. There was no sudden confession of love, no dramatic gesture that marked the shift. It was a slow burn, built on late-night conversations, stolen glances, and quiet moments spent together.

James continued to be your rock, but now, there was something else there too—an undercurrent of something more. You caught him looking at you a little longer than before, his smile lingering in a way that made your heartbeat a little faster. And though you still carried the remnants of your past with Remus, you began to see James in a new light, as someone who could help you heal, someone who wasn’t afraid to be patient with you as you learned to love yourself again.

One evening, after studying late in the library, James walked you back to the common room. The firelight flickered from the hearth, casting warm shadows on the stone walls.

"I’m proud of you, you know," he said suddenly, his voice low. "For how far you’ve come."

You looked up at him, surprised by the sincerity in his words. "Proud of me?" you repeated, a small smile forming on your lips. "For what?"

"For letting go of the past," he said, meeting your eyes. "For letting yourself heal. It’s not easy, Y/N. But you’ve been strong through it all."

Your heart swelled at his words. No one had ever said anything like that to you before—not like that. It wasn’t pity or sympathy, but admiration. And it made you feel... seen.

"Thank you, James," you whispered, your voice catching in your throat.

James didn’t say anything for a moment, just gazing at you with an expression that made your stomach flutter. And then, without another word, he took your hand in his. It wasn’t grand or overdramatic, but it felt significant—like the first step toward something new. Something you hadn’t even known you needed until now.

"Let’s keep walking," he said softly, squeezing your hand gently.

And you did. One step at a time.

[eufezco]

MEETING THE MARAUDERS𓂃 𓈒 ❀

marauder!remus lupin x slytherin!fem!reader

synopsis – after spending a lot of time with remus and with his friends insisting on meeting you, he finally decides to invite you to spend an afternoon with them.

a/n – you can read it either as a continuation of the fourth year part of this fic but it isn't necessary because it also works as a one shot.

fluff.

you’d be lying if you said you weren’t nervous.

remus had become a big part of your life, you even introduced him to your bowtruckle, a secret you had kept from everyone else, and he had treated it with nothing but kindness. now, he thought it was only fair to return the favor—to introduce you to his friends.

a small part of you was curious, but the other part of you, the one that had spent years being the odd one out, wasn’t sure if you could go through with it, not because you didn’t trust remus, but because people like his friends—popular, loud, charming—didn’t mix with people like you.

—i... i don't think this is a good idea, what if i don't fit in? —you asked the bowtruckle. you paced around your room, luckily your awful roommates were out, giving you the space to overthink in peace. —what if they think i’m not funny? or too quiet? what if they just —you sighed, pressing your palms against your face, —don’t like me?

the bowtruckle, entirely unimpressed by your spiral, drummed its tiny fingers against your wrist in quick, impatient taps, as if trying to snap you out of your overthinking. it chirped, as if telling you that everything was going to be alright, that remus was waiting for you, that he wanted you there with them, with him.

—easy for you to say, —you mumbled, adjusting your pocket so it could settle back in. —you’re effortlessly charming.

—i can't wait to meet her, remus, i bet she's super sweet, —lily said excitedly as she sat next to remus in the gryffindor common room.

—if she appears, —sirius added to make remus even more nervous.

—she will, —remus said with confidence, though a flicker of doubt crossed his mind. you weren’t the kind of person to throw yourself into new situations easily. he knew that. this was pushing you out of your comfort zone.

—yeah, of course she will, —james said with a smirk. —she can't miss this chance with our moony and we have to green light her.

—green light her? —remus couldn't believe what he was hearing.

—you thought we’d just let some wicked slytherin into your life without making sure she’s not, i don’t know, secretly plotting your demise? —sirius asked.

—and what if she’s not worthy of our dear, delicate remus? what if she can handle his brooding nature, his tragically poetic soul? —james added, pouting and pinching remus' cheeks.

—get off, —remus groaned, pushing james’ hands away.

peter laughed, —no, but they have a point. we just want to make sure she’s good enough for you, moony. you’ve been rejecting girls left and right for years, and now, suddenly, you’ve got someone special? we’re intrigued.

remus knew what peter meant by someone special and he wanted to brush off their teasing, to dismiss the idea that you were anything more than just a friend, but he couldn't say that you weren't someone special because you were, even if he couldn’t fully admit it yet.

—she's just a friend, —remus finally said, the words almost getting caught in his throat.

everyone waited for remus to say something more, or for someone to break the tension after what they'd just heard. james and sirius shared a look, lily bit her lip as she glanced between remus and the others, and peter raised his eyes from his book as if he had heard his friend tell the biggest lie in the world.

remus was annoyed by the sudden silence. —what? she's just a friend, —he repeated, like saying it enough times would make it true, like he was not only trying to convince his friends but also himself.

james nodded, —sure, mate.

in that moment, you knocked on the picture frame and remus stood up all of a sudden, so fast that lily barely had time to move her legs before he nearly tripped over them. james leaned back on the couch, elbowing sirius. —just a friend, huh?

remus ignored them, muttering something under his breath as he reached the portrait and pulled it open. you knocked three times, just as remus told you to. he wasn't allowed to tell you the gryffindor password, so this quiet signal was the best option. a part of you hoped he wouldn’t hear it, that you could leave before anyone noticed you were even there.

you still had time to turn around, to disappear and pretend this never happened. your pulse pounded in your ears, every muscle in your body tensed. you once were made for this—groups, attention, friendship that extended beyond hushed library corners and whispered conversations by the black lake—, but now you didn't know if you could take it.

then, the portrait swung open and remus stood there, looking at you like he knew exactly what you were thinking. he didn’t say anything at first, just studied you, like he was giving you one last chance to change your mind. but when you didn’t move, didn’t speak, he gave you a small smile.

—hi, —you said first, trying to act as if you weren't panicking inside.

—hey, —remus stepped aside to let you in. his eyes moved to the pocket on your slythetin shirt. —hey there, little one.

the bowtruckle peeked out, chirping softly at the familiar voice. it seemed completely at ease, unlike you, whose heart was pounding so hard you were sure remus could hear it. you stepped into the common room. it was nothing like slytherin's, you swore the warmth of the place not only radiated from the fireplace but from the people there, everyone seemed to exist in a kind of effortless friendship.

—don't get used to it, slytherin, you will have to return to your dungeon at some point, —sirius teased when he saw you analyzing the room.

remus looked at him in terror, that's how you were received? already kicking you out? he was going to apologize in behalf of his friend, how many times would he have to do that during the afternoon? but before he could say anything, you just shyly smiled.

—didn’t realize gryffindors were so territorial.

you fought to try and not to start shaking after saying that. you could handle teasing, you had been handling it all these years but no one made it in a friendly way. but with remus' friends, it felt lighter, even if you could still feel the weight of their attention on you. remus was surprised and a bit relieved that you had followed sirius's teasing with such ease. he expected maybe a little defensive, which he could've completely understand, but instead, you handled it just fine.

sirius grinned, clearly pleased that you weren’t intimidated. —oh, we are. especially when it comes to moony.

he extended his hand, an expectant look on his face, as if daring you to take it. you placed your hand in his, matching his energy as best you could.

—don't worry, he's the worst one out of all five, the rest of us are more normal, —james got up from his place on the couch and walked toward you, his signature smirk firmly in place. he also extended his hand and you shook it.

—yeah, i wouldn’t use the word normal to describe any of us… but we’re nice people, —peter added, also approaching you. you also shook his hand, with a small smile on his lips, entertained by them.

—for merlin's beard! you're here! —you heard a girl's voice say behind you, filled with excitement. you turned around just in time to see a redhead approaching, her green eyes bright with curiosity. before you could say anything, she wrapped her arms around you and your eyes widened in surprise.

in that moment, you realized just how long it had been since someone hugged you like this, like it was the most natural thing in the world. remus got a little scared because he knew you weren't used to people being as intense as lily, and for a second, he worried it might overwhelm you. but then, he watched as you slowly and hesitantly lifted your arms and hugged her back.

—i knew you'd come,— she said as she pulled back, holding your hands as if to confirm you were real. —they made it sound like you might run for the hills!

—we did not say that, —peter said.

—you implied it, —lily shot back with a knowing grin.

sirius, moved to sit on the couch as he smirked. —smart girl. she should have run.

you exhaled sharply, shaking your head. —believe me, i thought about it.

they all laughed but they knew that you were being serious.

remus should have been the one to lead the conversation, to make this easier for you. but he was too caught up in making sure nothing overwhelmed you, that no one said anything to make you second-guess being here. so it was james who took the lead instead.

—hmm, forgive lily, she's been dying to meet you, —james explained.

—yeah, remus talks about you all the time, how could i not?

in that moment, remus came back to reality, his ears and cheeks burning. you were unsure if you wanted to laugh or shrink into the floor. your heart pounded, not in fear, but in something close to warmth. if your bowtruckle didn’t have strict orders to not make an appearance, it would’ve already started chirping, betraying your secret because if remus talked about you… you were just as guilty. but thankfully, your tiny traitor stayed put.

—this is gonna be a fun evening, — sirius declared.

lily's lips parted to say something after she realized what she just said but, once again, james saved the situation.

—right, then! —he clapped his hands together. —since moony is too busy overthinking and evans is two seconds away from adopting you, i’ll be your official gryffindor tour guide for the evening. they can get the food and the drinks

lily rolled her eyes but didn’t argue, already pulling remus. —come on, moony, — she said. —we’ve got snack duty, apparently.

you nodded slowly, assuring remus that you'd be fine. then, once they left, you looked around the common room, there were so many things that it was hard to focus on just one. james noticed your distraction and nudged you lightly. —overwhelmed, are we?

—a bit, — you huffed a laugh and admitted, still glancing around.

—don’t worry, you’ll get used to it, —peter added.

—first, the fireplace, —james said, him and peter walked by your side around the common room to show you thing by thing. —you want warmth? you fight for a seat here. sirius practically lives on that couch.

—next, we have the best table for last-minute essay writing, —james gestured toward a large wooden table covered with at least three half-empty cups of tea.

—or for pretending to write essays while actually playing wizard’s chess, —peter added. —this is lily’s and your remus' preferred study spot. no one dares sit there when they're in one of their homework moods. but it’s been ages since remus last showed up here, hasn’t it, james? any idea why?

—oh, i wonder what could've possibly distracted him, —james added dramatically, stroking his chin like a detective solving a mystery. —could it be… a certain slytherin?

you felt the warmth rush to your cheeks as all eyes turned to you, their grins filled with mischief. in that moment, sirius appeared and threw his arm over your shoulder. you tensed for a second. first lily and now sirius. physical affection wasn't something you were used to but they were effortlessly casual about it, like this was just how things worked here.

—don’t worry, slytherin, —sirius said, smirking as he pulled you into his side like you’d been friends forever. his easygoing nature made it hard to feel uncomfortable. —we tease because we care. and because it’s fun. we know you're taking good care of our moony, you've even gotten him to enjoy herbology.

—leave her alone, —lily said, slipping between you and sirius.

remus and lily had just returned, bringing snacks and drinks, though it was remus carrying everything. lily, on the other hand, had hooked her arm through yours, gently tugging you away from sirius as if to physically shield you from any more teasing.

—i'll show you the rest of the common room, while they, —she shot a deadly glance to james, peter an remus, —go and help moony.

the three of them collectively let out a dramatic huff but moved to help remus with the rest of the snacks.

—they're too much, but you'll get used to them, —lily said as she guided you toward the next part of the common room. the wall was covered in moving photographs, some of past gryffindor students, others of current ones. —this is the unofficial gryffindor history wall, —lily explained. —you’ll find pictures of old quidditch teams, past hogwarts students and prank victims...

you stepped closer, eyes scanning the frames. there, in one of the more recent photographs, were remus, james, sirius, and peter, all together. you smiled a little. remus had that same soft expression, he was pushing his reading glasses up on his nose, clearly attempting to look composed for the picture but his friends were doing everything in their power to ruin that.

you felt lily nudge you softly, —saw something you like? —lily asked. your cheeks warmed slightly again, and you glanced at her, suddenly aware of how long you’d been staring. lily giggled and tightened her arm around yours as if silently telling you that everything was alright. —you two are adorable.

before you could attempt to defend yourself, a loud voice interrupted.

—oi! evans! stop stealing our slytherin!

lily rolled her eyes, annoyed because he wanted to spend more time alone with you. you two walked back to the fireplace where the four boys where. lily let go your arm and moved quickly to stop james from eating all her favorite snack. you lingered near the couches, suddenly unsure of where to sit. you weren’t sure of the unspoken rules there of who usually sat where.

—hey, —remus said from behind you. he held a magic chess in his hands, his warm brown eyes watching you carefully, searching for any sign of discomfort. —you okay? sorry my friends hoarded you. i apologize for them, but they mean well.

you nodded, —no need to apologize, i'm okay. they're fun.

remus gave you a small, relieved smile. —come sit with me.

you nodded again. you made your way over to the couch, and though it was only big enough for two, it was small enough that your leg brushed against his as you sat. lily and james shared a similar couch, just that she had her head resting on his legs. sirius had taken the armchair, with both of his legs hanging over the armrest. peter was sitting on the rug, his back against the space where sirius' legs were supposed to be hanging and a bowl of popcorn in his hands.

—why don't you tell us about yourself, slytherin?

you felt the sudden weight of their attention, all eyes now on you. it had been so long since anyone had been genuinely interested in what you had to say about yourself that you didn't even know where to start. the words felt stuck in your throat, and for a moment, you wondered if you should just retreat back into the comfortable silence you were used to.

you cleared your throat, trying to shake off the hesitation. you shifted slightly on the couch and remus moved his hand to rest on your leg, a subtle reminder that you were in a friendly space, with no judgment, no rush, just people who wanted to know you.

—what do you want to know? —you asked sirius back.

—your family. are they wizards? —peter asked before sirius could.

you shook your head. —no, i'm the only witch in my family.

—i'm also a muggle-born! —lily said, excited. james, sirius and peter told you that they were pure bloods and remus didn't need to tell you that he was a half-blood because you already knew that.

—what is your quidditch team?

—i don't... i don't really like quidditch.

the room fell silent for a moment. three pairs of eyes stared at you in various stages of shock, disbelief, and—on sirius’ part—betrayal. even lily blinked at you, surprised, though she didn’t look nearly as horrified as the boys did. you swallowed, waiting for an answer from them. did you say something wrong?

—you don’t like quidditch? —james repeated, as if the words physically pained him to say out loud. he placed a dramatic hand over his heart. —tell me you’re joking.

—i’m not, —you admitted with a small nervous smile. —i just never really got into it. i didn't grow up watching quidditch and i don't get along particularly well with the slytherin quidditch team.

—she has a point about the slytherin team, though, —lily chimed in, grabbing some gummies from the table. —they’re insufferable.

—moony, i can’t believe you brought us someone here someone who doesn’t like quidditch, —james complained loudly.

remus looked over at you with a small smile. —don’t listen to them. it’s not a requirement to like quidditch to be our friend.

—it should be, —sirius mumbled under his breath. lily threw him the gummy bear she had in her hand.

—what do you do for fun then? —peter asked, tilting his head curiously.

you hesitated for a moment, then answered, —i like reading.

you heard a collective huff coming from the other three boys and you couldn't help but giggle. remus had told you about they hated study time and the library, always trying to find ways to avoid it.

—see? brilliant hobby, —remus perked up immediately. —she also loves magical creatures.

sirius grinned. —careful, moony, sounds like you’ve met your perfect match.

you felt your face heat up at sirius’ words, although you didn't really understood his comment. out of the corner of your eye, you caught remus ducking his head slightly, suddenly very interested in adjusting his sweater sleeves.

—i think it’s great. magical creatures are fascinating. —lily said, her eyes bright with enthusiasm. she turned to you, her head still resting on james' legs, clearly eager to hear more. —what’s your favorite?

your thoughts drifted to the little creature you carried with you. the soft movement in your pocket reminded you of it—your bowtruckle, likely tucked in and sleeping by now. you ran a hand over your pocket, as if to reassure the tiny creature that it was still safe.

—well, —you started, your voice softer now as you spoke about something that was dear to you. —i think my favorite would have to be bowtruckles.

you saw the flicker of mischief appear on sirius' eyes when you mentioned bowtruckles and you knew he was going to ask you about it. that time at the beginning of the year when he and remus ran into you and saw your little friend.

—they're small, but they’re very clever. they’re experts at camouflaging themselves. but they’re also very loyal. if they trust you, they’ll protect you. i think that’s what I like the most about them.

for a moment, all of them looked at you closely, their expressions a mix of curiosity and surprise. you felt a slight knot form in your stomach as a wave of self-consciousness washed over you. had you said too much? overshared? remus, of course, was the first to offer a soft smile, his brown eyes warm and understanding.

—wow... that's so interesting, —james said. peter and lily hummed and nodded, agreeing with him. his eyes now softened with curiosity. —it’s... cool. you’ve got this whole different perspective on magic. i like it.

—you speak about bowtruckles as if you really know them, —sirius teased.

remus knew exactly what sirius was getting at. although remus already knew your bowtruckle, he also caught a glimpse of it on the train at the beginning of the year, no matter how much you had tried to act as if it had been nothing. —of course she knows them, —remus said smoothly, cutting sirius off before he could push further. —she just told you they're her favorites.

sirius rolled his eyes, —oh shut up, moony.

that nickname again. you'd been hearing it all evening. moony. it felt familiar on their tongues, effortless. you didn’t want to seem too nosy, but you finally couldn't hold it back. —i have to ask, what’s with the nickname? why moony?

the room fell silent for a brief moment. everyone else seemed to glance at remus. he rubbed the back of his neck nervously, as if trying to figure out how to explain it without revealing the truth. he wasn't ready for that yet. the mere thought of telling you made his stomach twist.

—in our first year at hogwarts, remus was so obsessed with astronomy, —james began, a nostalgic grin spreading across his face as if he was not telling the biggest lie ever, but he had to cover his friends back this time. he was sure that when remus was ready to tell you the truth, you’d understand. until then, this would have to do.

—yeah, he used to stay up all night with that bloody telescope of his, staring at the moon, —sirius added smoothly, catching on to james’ quick improvisation without hesitation.

—that's why we call him moony. he was obsessed, he knew more about the phases of the moon than any professor.

you hummed, nodding. it was odd. of all the time you'd spent with remus, he had never once mentioned his supposed passion for astronomy, nor the moon. you glanced at him, but he was focused on adjusting the chess pieces in front of him, as if willing himself not to look at you.

—i grew out of it, —remus said as if reading your mind.

—tragic, really, —james sighed, shaking his head. —all those sleepless nights, and for what? a nickname?

—enough about moony's past, —sirius said, —we’ve covered quidditch—disappointing answer, by the way. we’ve covered your special interests—very cool answer. what about dueling? potions? are you a secret prodigy in some terrifying slytherin skill?

you giggled, was he serious about this?

—have you ever cursed someone? —peter asked, leaning in a little, as if waiting for some grand confession.

james added. —yeah, i bet you know a ton of dark spells, don’t you?

—for merlin's beard! what are these questions? —remus exclaimed, rubbing his forehead as if trying to block out the absurdity of it all.

lily, equally horrified by the direction the conversation had taken, quickly stepped in. —do you play chess?

you let out a small laugh and nodded. sirius leaned back into the armchair with a pout.

—aw, no dark magic duels? no secret spells? —he teased.

—if you beat me at chess, we'll duel and i'll teach you some dark spells.

and sirius seemed satisfied because you two were the first ones to play. he wasted no time in making his first move, playing aggressively, clearly expecting you to struggle. but you didn't. with each move, you countered him easily. peter was the easiest to beat and james tried but just lasted a little longer than sirius. lily put up the best fight of them all, but after a long battle, she sighed, surrendering her king in resignation.

now, it was remus sitting on the floor in front of you, his legs crossed as he studied the board with quiet concentration. there was a little smile on his lips as he looked up at you, and you couldn’t help but smile back. the rest of them watched, a little amazed. there was something different about this match, something unspoken between you and remus as you played.

—they’re not even talking, —sirius whispered.

—they don’t need to, —lily murmured back, eyes flicking between the two of you.

james huffed, crossing his arms. —if they end up falling in love over a chessboard, i’m going to be so annoyed.

lily didn’t say anything else, but she could already see it. the way you and remus moved, the way you met each other’s gazes with soft smiles, the quiet ease between you—it was obvious. maybe not to the two of you just yet, but to everyone else in the room, it was as clear as day. the game ended in a draw, much to everyone's surprise. you extended your hand across the board to him, and remus took it with a light laugh.

the rest of the evening was just as great. you listened, content, as the group chatted about their various adventures, schoolwork, and the latest pranks they were planning for the next hogsmeade trip. you should come with us to hogsmeade the next time! lily said excited and they all agreed.

peter had taken your spot on the couch, leaving you and remus on the floor. your backs were leaning against the soft cushions. remus had hugged his legs to his chest, his knees drawn up as he rested his arms loosely around them. his attention on the group but his gaze drifting back to you every so often, as if checking in. every time your eyes met, there was that same unspoken connection, like a shared secret. you weren’t sure if he even realized he was doing it, but it made you feel seen in a way that was both comforting and... exciting.

it was comforting for him as well—seeing a happier look on your face, watching you laugh, relax, and get along so easily with his friends. their teasing had managed to break through your walls. maybe it was the way sirius had declared you not so bad for a slytherin. or the way james had groaned dramatically when you beat him, but still ruffled your hair like you were already one of them. maybe it was lily’s knowing looks, her quiet reassurances, or peter’s eager interest in your stories.

or maybe—just maybe—it was just remus.

because even now, as the conversation carried on around you, his presence beside you made you feel safe.

remus let go of his legs and one of his hands dropped to the floor right by yours. it wasn’t quite touching, but it was close enough that you could feel the warmth from his skin. you wondered if it was intentional. If he was testing the waters, seeing if you’d pull away. you didn’t. instead, your fingers twitched slightly, brushing against his just barely. it could have been an accident, a coincidence. but you knew it wasn’t when he turned his palm up, open—an invitation.

your fingers hesitated for only a moment before you moved your hand into his, your palm pressing lightly against his own as his fingers curled around yours. neither of you looked at each other, not directly. he kept his gaze ahead, pretending to listen to whatever his friends were saying, but you could see the small, pleased smile playing at the corner of his lips.

then, a soft chirping sound broke through the warmth of the moment. your bowtruckle, nestled in your pocket, had stirred, reminding you of something. your eyes went to the clock on the wall—it was late.

—oh, i should go, —you said interrupting the conversation as you stood from the floor, letting go remus' hands. every part of you wanted to stay just a little longer.

—i'll walk you to the dungeons, —remus stood up, brushing off his sweater as if the decision had already been made.

james smirked. —should we expect you back before sunrise, or…?

remus rolled his eyes as he grabbed his wand from the table. —hilarious. truly.

lily got up from the couch and went to hug you. this time you were ready to hug her back, —it’s been great meeting you, —she said as she pulled away, smiling. —i hope you join us again soon. in fact, i was planning to go over my potions homework tomorrow. maybe we can do it together?

—yeah, there’s also a quidditch match tomorrow. gryffindor versus hufflepuff. not the most exciting thing, but still worth watching. maybe when you and lily are done with your studying, you can join us, —james added.

you blinked, caught off guard by how easily they included you in her plans, —oh, yeah. that sounds nice, actually, —you admitted.

lily beamed. —perfect! i’ll save you a seat in the library. goodnight. and be careful, both of you.

peter offered a small wave and a genuine, goodnight, before turning back to the others. sirius, still lounging in the armchair, of course had to make the last joke of the evening, try not to hex our dear moony on the way down, yeah? we’re trusting you not to unleash one of your dark magic tricks on him. remus let out a sigh, shaking his head. you let out a little laugh with a goodbye sirius.

stepping out of the common room, you walked beside remus, your footsteps echoing slightly in the empty hallways, neither of you in a rush to reach your destination. his hands were tucked into the pockets of his pants, and you found yourself glancing at them more than once. after a moment, remus spoke, his voice softer now. —you fit in well with them.

you glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. —do i?

he nodded. —yeah. they definitely like you.

you let out a quiet chuckle, the sound almost nervous, as a strange sensation stirred in your chest, something you couldn’t quite decipher. —well, they don’t know me that well yet.

—they know enough, —he said simply.

the feeling in your chest was a mix of not having fit in with anyone for years and the satisfaction of finally finding people you were comfortable around. you almost wanted to ask what enough meant, would it be true what lily had said earlier, about how remus couldn't stop talking about you? the idea crossed your mind, making your stomach flutter. you weren’t sure if you could believe it. it felt safer to think that way, rather than consider the possibility that remus might actually think about you when you weren’t in the room.

but before you could ask him, remus gave a soft sigh, breaking the silence. —did you have fun?

you nodded, —so much fun. i didn’t expect it to be this… easy.

remus glanced over at you, his eyes softening in that familiar way they always did when he listened to you. he had a way of making you feel like what you said mattered, and that was something you weren’t used to.

—you know you hurt james' ego when you beat him at chess, right? especially in front of lily, —he said with a mischievous smile.

you chuckled. as you walked, the two of you chatted about the rest of the evening. only your laughter could be heard in the corridors of the castle. you watched as he pulled his hands out of his pockets, stretching his fingers slightly before letting them fall at his sides. if you were now the one reaching for it, would he let you?

you hesitated. maybe it was the late hour making you bold. your fingers twitched slightly, debating. testing. it would be so easy to just... let your fingers brush against his, to close the space between you. but before you could make a decision, the entrance to the slytherin dungeons came into view.

you swallowed, slowing your steps. too late.

—i’m glad you came tonight, —he said, his voice gentle. —it’s been nice, having you here.

for a moment, you just stood there, facing each other in the dim light of the castle corridor.

—thank you for inviting me, i had so much fun, —you said softly, a small smile tugging at your lips.

remus nodded. a few seconds of silence stretched between you. he looked as if he wanted to say something more, something important, but the words never came. instead, he exhaled softly, rubbing the back of his neck.

—i... i should leave before filch finds us, —he finally said, his voice quieter now.

you gave a small chuckle. —yeah, wouldn’t want detention right when we have plans for tomorrow.

he stepped closer, wrapping his arms around you in a gentle hug. you melted into it. he smelled faintly of old parchment, chocolate, and something distinctly him—something comforting. you still remembered the first time he hugged you. you hadn’t known what to do with yourself. physical affection had never come naturally to you, and for a long time, you had simply stood there, unmoving, unsure of how to reciprocate. but now? now, you fit against him effortlessly, as if this had always been meant to happen.

his arms tightened slightly, just for a second, as if he wanted to hold on a little longer. you felt his heartbeat, steady and calm, before he finally exhaled and slowly pulled away. but not completely. as he moved back, his cheek brushed against yours, and for the briefest moment, his lips ghosted over your skin.

your breath hitched. it was barely a touch, more of an accident than an intention, but it sent a rush of warmth through you.

remus stayed there, really close to your face. his hesitation was brief, but you caught it—the way his dark brown eyes moved to look at your lips. and then, before either of you could think too much about it, he moved. slowly, carefully, like he was giving you a chance to pull away, remus leaned in. his nose brushed against yours, your breaths mingled in the small space between you, and then he finally closed the distance.

his lips met yours, soft and unsure at first, but when you didn’t pull away, when instead you tilted your head just slightly to meet him better, he deepened the kiss. his hand, warm and steady, found its way to your cheek, his thumb tracing the edge of your jaw.

there was a knot in your stomach, tight and overwhelming. you had spent so long convincing yourself that this kind of intimacy wasn’t meant for you. your fingers curled tighter into the fabric of his sweater as if afraid that the moment might slip away too soon. and maybe remus felt the same, because just before he pulled back, he kissed you again—just once, a little firmer, like he was making sure this was real.

you looked down, shy, and remus laughed.

—i should really leave now, —he murmured, though he made no move to step away.

—yeah, —you said softly, but neither of you moved.

the castle was quiet around you, the dim light casting long shadows on the stone walls. it felt like you were standing in a moment just outside of time. remus exhaled slowly, as if gathering the will to actually leave. then, in one last act of hesitation, he leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple.

—goodnight, —he said against your skin.

you stood there for a moment after he left, your heart still racing, your lips still tingling. and then, with a quiet smile to yourself, you turned and made your way to the dungeons. as you walked, your bowtruckle peeked out of your pocket, tilting its tiny head before letting out a soft chirp.

—you should be sleeping, —you told it. your bowtruckle chirped again. you rolled your eyes but couldn't help the small laugh that escaped you. —did that really happened? oh, don’t look at me like that, —you whispered. —it was just a kiss, —the little creature let out another noise before scurrying back into the folds of your robes, apparently satisfied with whatever it had seen.

when remus returned to the common room, he found lily still there, waiting. she didn’t say anything at first, just raised an eyebrow as he walked in. he sighed, already knowing where this was going.

—don’t make this a bigger deal than it is, —remus said, his tone more vulnerable than any of them were used to hearing. he plopped down on the sofa beside lily as he ran his hands over his face.

lily’s smile softened as she watched him with a sympathy. she reached over to gently nudge his shoulder, offering him a quiet kind of support.

—i don’t know what’s going on, alright? it’s complicated, and i don’t want to screw it up.

lily nodded, because she understood, because she knew him well enough to recognize the fear behind his hesitation. —you won't, —she said.

he sighed, leaning back into the sofa, staring at the dying embers in the fireplace. his fingers twitched like he wanted to fidget with something, like he had too much energy left from the night despite how tired he suddenly felt.

—what do you think of her?

—she's great, i think you two make a great pair and i think that you’re overthinking again.

—am i? —he asked, glancing at her.

—yes. —she nudged his arm gently. —you like her, don’t you?

his silence was answer enough.

—and she clearly likes you too, —lily continued. —she wouldn’t have stayed so long tonight if she didn’t.

she stretched, suppressing a yawn as she got up from the couch. remus let out a slow breath, sinking into the couch. the memory of the kiss still vivid on his mind. —i kissed her, —he admitted, almost like he was still processing it himself. the words slipping out as if saying them aloud would make it feel less overwhelming. he wasn’t even sure if he was talking to lily or just to himself, still processing the fact that it had happened at all.

lily’s eyes widened, but she quickly hid her expression into something more composed. —and?

—and it was… nice.

lily rolled her eyes, though her smile betrayed her amusement. —nice? that’s all you’re giving me?

remus huffed a laugh, shaking his head. —fine. it was really nice. terrifying, but nice.

lily grinned. —well, i think she’s good for you, and i think you should let yourself be happy for once. —she leaned to kiss the top of remus' head as a good night. as she turned toward the stairs leading to the girls' dormitory, she threw one last glance over her shoulder. —and for what it is worth, i think you shouldn't let the boys know that you are, you know... exchanging saliva with her, —

—for merlin’s beard, lily! —he exclaimed, interrupting her incredulous. exchanging saliva was the grossest way she could have put it.

lily only laughed, clearly pleased with herself. —unless, of course, you want them to start planning the wedding.

she left him alone in the common room, the only sounds left being the faint crackling of the dying fire and the occasional creak of the old castle settling around him. but in his mind, he could still hear your soft laugh. it was strange, how easily you had slipped into their group, how natural it had felt to have you there. even stranger was the way he had let himself get so caught up in it all—the chess match, the quiet moments, the warmth of your hand brushing against his. and then, the kiss.

remus exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. he should go to bed. merlin help him, because he knew he was already in too deep.

[weasleys-wizard-writes]

Latency Lingering {F.W}

Chapter I - Same Eyes, Twice Over

Synopsis: just over three years after making the decision to end things with Fred to keep yourself and your new secret(s) from holding him back, you're finally faced with the consequences when you run into Molly and she sees those very same "secrets" for herself. Suddenly, it seems very unlikely that a life without Fred Weasley in it will remain possible for you.

All the time in the world could not have properly prepared you for this moment.

You weren't entirely convinced, after all, that anyone was supposed to endure the agony of facing a disappointed Molly Weasley head on.

But then, here you were, dual stroller handlebar clenched so tightly in your hands that you feared you might just warp it, doing exactly that.

Had the four years of peace been worth it, you wondered, in exchange for the inevitable chaos that was soon to descend upon you like a long prophesied swarm of locusts set free of the hell from whence they'd come?

Likely not.

But what else could you have done?

You had only been eighteen measly years old, after all, a babe in the grand scheme of things, suddenly thrust into reality as a dull blade might be through flesh and bone.

(Messily, and with a staggering amount of force).

Though, you certainly felt rather unlike the blade in that analogy, and far more so like the flesh...

Nevertheless, you'd persisted. Done what you'd had to in order to preserve your sanity and the livelihood of the man you'd loved.

Perhaps still did, not that it mattered.

Fred was long gone, you had made sure of it that night in the astronomy tower the evening before he and his brother, your once closest friend, had made their daring escape from the hell that had been Hogwarts at that time.

You'd shattered the poor boy's heart after three and a half years of love and adoration, all to preserve his dreams.

Shame you'd done all you could to ensure he'd never know it.

"Please love, I don't understand."

He'd plead, dexterous fingers running through mussed up ginger locks as he paced back and forth about the room you were both stood in.

You'd only just barely resisted the urge to say it was all a joke then, desperate to reach out and feel him one more time, to fix the hairs that had sprung up all about his head as a result of his restless ministrations.

But you hadn't. You couldn't.

Things would be better, you knew, if you just stayed away.

You'd retreated further out of his grasp to keep yourself from holding him not long after the urge had arose. The look in his eyes, pained and confused, was enough to tear your heart in two, though you supposed that it was thirds if you really thought about it.

You would miss George, after all. What was a girl to do without her best friend, especially in times such as these?

"I'm sorry, Fred."

You said resolutely, not feeling nearly as certain as you'd sounded in that moment.

"I just- I can't deal with the distance, nor the strain of it all. There's far too much for me to worry about here, I can't risk stretching myself too thin worrying to death over you and your brother."

That much was true, you supposed, though in the end he'd never really know the half of it. That you couldn't risk stretching yourself too thin because of just how much was about to change, and because it would mean harming another to do so.

You had far more than just yourself to think about now.

In response to your words, your boyfriend stared at you as if you'd grown a second head, beautiful brown eyes wide and teary as he pulled a shaking, uncertain breath in through his parted lips.

"This can't be happening."

He'd whispered, a humorless laugh leaving his mouth and echoing throughout the mostly empty space, nearly making you shudder.

"Merlin Y/n, just last night you were cracking jokes about me taking your surname instead of the other way around. We spoke of a home, domestic dinner parties, Godric, even names for our bloody children!"

He'd exclaimed, hands flying up into their air as you'd watched on sorrowfully, recalling the very conversations he was speaking of.

You'd certainly take his thoughts from them into consideration when you-

"Lords woman, you're wearing a promise ring! This isn't some summer fling you can just toss aside with no warning, we've a whole future planned together!"

He sounded near hysterical now, confusion melding with panic to rob him of reason even in the darkened halls of the astronomy tower, and you'd shuddered to think of what Umbridge would do if she found out the two of you were up there at such an hour.

It was hardly negligible to risk yourself harm anymore, you simply couldn't resolve to allow things to continue any further.

And so, you hadn't.

"Fred, I'm sorry."

You began, lower lip wobbling in a way you hoped he couldn't make out despite the feigned certainty present in your tone.

"But I've made up my mind. We're destined to take life on two very different paths, you and I, and I can't let myself pretend this makes sense for even another moment. I love you far too much to allow this to persist and risk hurting you further."

And with that, you were gone, leaving the love of your life behind to wonder what on earth had gone wrong.

You hadn't seen Fred since then, at least not as far as you were aware, avoiding every event he could possibly turn up at within reason...

Though, avoiding his family, that had proven to be a far more difficult task, particularly whilst you'd been attending Hogwarts with them after the twins had taken their leave, your relationship all but flown away with them.

It turned out though, that pregnancy was easy enough to hide as long as no one looked too close at your poorly maintained glamour charm.

Or, at least it had been for the first few weeks or so...

But then, much to your utter horror (and great surprise) you'd been informed that your darling ex boyfriend had been so kind as to leave you with not just one child to care for in his absence, but two.

It would seem that twins did indeed run in the family.

After that discovery, your glamour charms had taken a lot more effort, focus, and intention.

Graduation, you'd found, could not come soon enough.

And though you had "celebrated" alone, your notably small family wanting little to do with their soon to be teen parent of a daughter, it had felt like your first real victory since your decision to leave Fred had left a gaping hole in the center of your heart.

Perhaps it was possible to keep moving forward after all, if you could make it through several months of schooling at Hogwarts whilst pregnant with twins you would undoubtedly be raising on your own...

Though, truly, not even that could have prepared you for a moment such as this one, because far more than you had ever seen before, Molly Weasley was furious.

She was doing a good enough job of hiding it, but you'd long since learned the meaning of her flaring nostrils, darting gaze, and shifting fingertips, which busied themselves with her wand as casually as she could manage.

You reckoned you were rather lucky she hadn't hexed you yet, judging by how upset she looked.

And, reasonably, you supposed she had every right to be.

After all, it had only been three short years since you had broken her son's heart high up in the astronomy tower at that school you had once so happily called home, yet now you were standing in the same doctor's office waiting room together, one of you with a bruised ankle, and the other with a baby carriage in hand.

And as much as you wished it to be so, it seemed the universe had no intention of switching your positions. It was you with the stroller, and she with the injury, though you were certain you'd be obtaining one soon if the older woman standing before you didn't get the answers she was doubtless looking for.

"Y/n,"

She greeted far too sweetly, her eyebrow twitching ever so slightly below her hairline as her eyes swept over the blanket covered stroller parked in front of you,

"It's lovely to see you. How have you been?"

The question was meant to sound polite, you were sure of it, but the undertone was clear:

"I could have gone my entire life without seeing you again."

It resolved.

"And exactly who did you deem worthy enough to start a family with so soon after breaking Freddie's heart?"

It interrogated.

You scarcely managed to hold back a shudder in response, your smile nervous in spite of your best efforts.

Time had whittled away at your ability to hide how you were feeling, it seemed, since you had last needed to do so during your breakup with Fred.

What a shame, you really could have used that right about now.

"Mrs. Weasley."

You greeted, all but flinching when you nearly said her name instead purely out of habit.

You could scarcely remember the last time you'd had to call the woman by such a formal title, but you supposed you'd lost the right to address her differently the moment you'd thrown Fred's surname back in his face that night in the astronomy tower.

"I've been well. And you?"

Your response was far more submissive to the older woman's intimidation than you'd perhaps intended it to be, but even so, your persistent and undying respect for her won out in the end. It was strange, truly, to consider the woman you'd once very nearly called Mum an enemy.

Molly hummed dismissively in response to your words, brushing off your question with a wave of her hand,

"Oh I've been just the same as always, nothing much to speak of I'm afraid."

She sighed out with faux regret, fixing you with a look of marked interest as she continued,

"But you,"

She said eagerly,

"It would seem that you've been rather busy as of late."

At that, she gestured toward the stroller sat in front of you, and you blanched slightly at the idea of her getting a decent look at its contents.

Molly smiled once more, still far too politely for your comfort,

"Who's the little one, then?"

She coaxed, immediately forcing a short burst of nervous laughter from deep inside your chest.

Once you'd officially regained control of yourself though, you smiled just as politely as she (albeit with an apologetic edge) before replying.

"Little ones, I'm afraid."

You joked, never quite able to stop yourself from trying to make light of a stressful situation.

"Winnifred and Augustine, or, far more popularly, Winnie and August. They're-"

"Twins." Molly finished before you could even get the word out, her eyes widening slightly in surprise, "Yours?"

You nodded slowly, and the woman smiled ever so slightly for the first time since you'd come into view.

"Oh my, my condolences then." She teased, reaching forward to grasp at the blanket that concealed the precious cargo napping away within, doubtless tired after their long day full of bickering back and forth with one another.

She looked up at you then, seemingly unaware of the growing fear in your eyes as you suddenly realized what was about to happen.

"May I?"

She asked, though you could tell from the tone she took that it was far more of a formality than an actual question.

Such was the problem with older women, you'd found - They scarcely seem to bother actually asking your thoughts in regards to them seeing your children.

But this? This certainly could not persist, not if you hoped to-

Without pausing to hear an answer you knew she'd never had any intention of waiting for, Molly Weasley gently tugged at the fabric that had been draped across the front of the carriage, ignoring your nervous sputtering as you tried desperately to find the right words to say.

Unfortunately, they never came.

Forgotten, the blanket that had once hidden your beloved children away from the world fluttered to the ground, and Molly Weasley stared, stock still, at the sight before her.

There, blinking blearily up at the bright lights of the waiting room she was stood in, was a set of twins so familiar that it made her heart skip a beat inside her chest.

Soft ginger hair adorned both of their heads, and delicate freckles far too similar to those she had once threatened to kiss off the faces of her own children decorated their cheeks like stars doubtlessly chock full of constellations just waiting to be found.

But somehow, the feature that caused her the most pause was the eyes of the little ones sitting before her, deep brown and shining in the white overhead lighting of a doctor's office that suddenly felt far too cramped for the feelings she was struggling to maintain control over.

Those eyes bore a striking resemblance to her twins, and somehow even one in particular, one that she knew you were quite familiar with, as things went.

Her gaze darted back up to seek your own, and the moment she found it and saw the overwhelming guilt and fear there, she knew, and her breath caught briefly in her throat.

"Y/n dear,"

She spoke after a few moments of increasingly tense silence, the low chatter of the witches and wizards around you seemingly reduced to nothing as the sound of your own racing heartbeat drowned them out with ease.

Molly reached out to you then, slowly and gingerly, as if you were some wild animal she feared might dart away at any moment.

And truth be told, you very nearly felt like one too, especially as the following question left your almost former mother in law's lips,

"What is their surname?"

And immediately, you shook your head, far too overwhelmed with the situation at hand to handle any of it properly.

Years and years of fleeing in fear of this exact moment had done you no favors in preparing for it, and your shaking hands and tear filled eyes betrayed that fact with an embarrassing level of evidence.

"Oh Molly,"

You begged softly, using the woman's given name for the first time in years,

"Please don't ask me that. I promise you don't want me to say-"

"Winnifred and Augustine Weasley?"

A nurse called out hesitantly to the sea of patients located in the waiting room, her eyes trained briefly on the clipboard in front of her as if to double check her words before she looked back up curiously, gaze sweeping back and forth throughout the space, seeking out the two toddlers scheduled with Dr. Hathaway for the 2:00pm slot.

You felt your heart constrict painfully inside your chest as Molly's hand flew to her mouth, her once so certain fingers trembling as the truth of the matter washed over her like a freezing winter squall.

And, ever the coward when it came to family matters such as this, you were quick to clear your throat, doing your best to hide your red rimmed eyes and tear tracked cheeks before waving your hand slightly to the nurse who was still looking anxiously about the waiting area.

"They're just here. Apologies for the delay, I must have misheard you."

Though, from the positively dread filled look on your face, Molly Weasley could tell you had not.

masterlist

[ms-snape]

Hello, can you just write severu x reader? Some angst but fluff at the end? She’s try several times makes first move but he is just Severus. He won’t realize until she stop with trying to get to him. Thank you.

Title: Too Late?

Warning: Angst

Words Count: 3000+

Masterlist

---

Professor Y/N L/N loved the quiet, the calm of the Hogwarts greenhouse. The smell of damp earth and the soft rustle of leaves were her comfort. It was a sanctuary, a place where she could lose herself in the careful tending of magical plants, and a place where she could allow her thoughts to wander — especially to him.

Severus Snape.

She didn’t quite know when it had happened, or how it had grown so deeply rooted in her heart, but somewhere between the late-night faculty meetings, the shared glances in the staff room, and the way his voice lingered just a bit longer than necessary when addressing her, Y/N had found herself hopelessly in love with him.

It was ridiculous, really. She, the soft-spoken Herbology professor, with her love for nature and her quiet kindness, had fallen for the cold, brooding Potions Master. He was a man of sharp words, dark eyes, and a demeanor so cold it could freeze the very air around him. His silences spoke volumes, and his gaze could pierce you, if you weren’t careful.

Yet despite the distance, despite his icy exterior, she had tried. Tried, again and again, to show him that she was different. That she could be something more. That she cared. But he didn't seem to notice.... Or at least pretended not to....

--

It was a Tuesday morning, and Y/N was working diligently in the greenhouse, tending to the mandrakes. The plants had been quite active lately, and their cries were always a challenge. She hummed softly as she carefully repotted one of the mandrakes, the soft clink of her trowel against the ceramic pot soothing in the otherwise quiet room.

She hadn’t heard him approach.

"Professor L/N," came his voice, low and familiar.

Y/N’s heart stuttered. She straightened quickly, wiping her hands on her apron, trying to hide the flutter of nervousness in her chest.

"Professor Snape," she said, smiling a little too brightly. "I didn’t hear you come in. How can I help you?"

His black robes swished around him as he stepped into the greenhouse, his eyes narrowing slightly as they scanned the plants. His gaze flicked over the mandrakes, the fanged geraniums, the bubotubers. He was a master of his craft, of course, but the world of Herbology wasn’t one he usually paid attention to. Y/N couldn’t help but feel a rush of warmth when he stood so close.

"I’m just inspecting your work," he said, his tone sharp but not unkind. "You’ve been… diligent."

She nodded eagerly, pleased by his praise, though she wasn’t sure if it was meant as one. "I’m always happy to share what I know, Professor Snape. Perhaps I could show you some of the more—"

"No need." His voice was clipped, dismissive. "You are doing fine. Just make sure the plants don’t become too… unruly."

She bit her lip, her smile faltering, but she kept her voice steady. "Of course. I’ll keep an eye on them. Would you like to join me for a cup of tea after your rounds? I’ve been experimenting with a new blend of chamomile and valerian root. It’s quite calming."

The words hung in the air between them like a delicate thread, fragile and vulnerable.

Severus Snape didn’t respond immediately. His eyes flicked over her face, as if searching for something in her expression. His lips were thin, his brow furrowed slightly.

"I do not have time for tea, miss Y/L/N." His tone softened, but it was still cold. "I suggest you spend more time with your plants than offering tea to your colleagues."

She blinked, feeling a pang of hurt pierce her chest, though she quickly masked it with a polite nod. "Of course. I understand. Maybe some other time, then."

He didn’t say anything more. He simply turned and walked away, his black robes sweeping behind him like a shadow.

Y/N stood in the middle of the greenhouse, staring after him, her heart sinking. It had been the same every time.

A week had passed since that encounter in the greenhouse. The morning had been busy with classes, and now Y/N found herself in the staff room, going through some notes and preparing for the afternoon lesson. It was always the same. She would prepare, she would smile, and yet the reactions from Severus were always cold.

Her thoughts were interrupted when the door opened, and Severus stepped into the room. His black eyes flickered over her, but he didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. They both knew why he was here — the weekly staff meeting was starting soon.

Y/N straightened and greeted him with a polite smile, as always. "Good afternoon, Severu. How was your morning?"

He gave her a curt nod. "Uneventful."

The silence stretched between them, thick and uncomfortable. Y/N had tried to fill it once with a conversation about a rare plant she had recently discovered, but he had barely acknowledged it. His eyes were always distant, always elsewhere.

She didn’t know why she kept trying. Why she kept hoping that one day, he might see her. That he might realize that she wasn’t just another colleague, another face in the crowd. She didn’t know why she thought her kindness might be enough to break through the fortress he’d built around himself.

But despite it all, she kept trying.

As the staff meeting started, she sat across from him, her attention on the various discussions about upcoming events, but her thoughts were elsewhere — on him. Always on him. His sharp profile, the way his fingers drummed on the armrest of his chair, the occasional glance in her direction.

She could feel his eyes on her at times, though she couldn’t be sure if it was just her imagination. She didn’t have the courage to look up and meet his gaze, but she always felt the weight of it, a silent pressure.

A few days later, after another failed attempt to make him notice her — a carefully chosen compliment, a smile, a lingering look — Y/N had had enough. She had poured her heart into her attempts, trying to show him that she wasn’t like the others. That she could understand him, if only he would let her. But he wouldn’t.

He wouldn’t let anyone in.

It was a quiet night in the castle, and Y/N found herself walking through the hallways toward her quarters. She had spent the entire day in the greenhouse, putting in extra hours, hoping to take her mind off the frustration of the past few weeks.

The door to her room creaked as she entered, and the warmth of the fire that crackled in the hearth greeted her. She closed the door softly behind her, leaning against it for a moment, her heart heavy.

She had tried. She had been so kind, so patient, so open. But Severus would never look at her the way she had hoped.

Tears stung her eyes, though she didn’t let them fall. She wiped her face quickly, determined not to let the hurt consume her. She wasn’t going to chase someone who couldn’t even acknowledge her efforts.

No more trying.

The next day, Y/N was different. She kept to herself more than usual, focusing entirely on her work, her plants, the students. She had stopped making any attempt to speak with Severus, stopped offering him tea or trying to catch his eye.

And it didn’t take long for Severus to notice.

He wasn’t sure when it started. At first, he thought it was a fleeting thing, just another mood, another oddity in her usual demeanor. But when the days stretched into a week, and he saw her pulling away from him more and more, it began to gnaw at him.

He didn’t understand it.

Why did her absence bother him so much? Why did the sight of her avoiding him, walking past him without so much as a glance, make something in his chest tighten in a way he couldn’t explain?

He found himself watching her from afar, noting the way she no longer lingered in the staff room, no longer made small talk, no longer gave him those tentative smiles. The warmth that had always seemed to radiate from her was gone.

It bothered him more than he cared to admit.

Severus sat alone in his office late one night, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows across the stone walls. His mind was racing, and for once, the calm, measured pace of his thoughts seemed to have been interrupted by something… something unexpected.

Y/N.

Her absence.

Why did it matter? Why did it hurt?

He had spent years perfecting the art of indifference, of never allowing himself to feel anything that could be used against him. And yet, here he was, unable to focus, unable to keep his mind from wandering back to her.

The way her eyes sparkled when she spoke about her plants. The soft way she laughed. The way she cared for things. For him, in ways he couldn’t understand.

It was then, in the quiet solitude of his office, that Severus Snape realized something that terrified him.

He missed her.

And he had no idea how to fix it.

Severus Snape sat in his darkened office, staring into the flickering flames of the hearth, his mind a turbulent sea. The realization that he had been ignoring Y/N’s feelings — that he had pushed her away in his usual cold, dismissive manner — had only just hit him, and the weight of it was suffocating. He had been too absorbed in his own self-imposed isolation, too locked away in his fortress of bitterness and skepticism, to notice what had been so painfully clear to everyone else.

Y/N was gone.

Her warmth had disappeared from the corridors, from the staff room, from the greenhouse. And the coldness in his heart, which he had always managed to keep at bay, now gnawed at him like a hungry animal.

But he didn’t know how to fix it.

The door to his office creaked open, and Severus was momentarily startled from his thoughts. He raised his eyes, expecting to see the usual ghostly figure of one of the students needing a late-night potion or a missing assignment. Instead, it was Minerva McGonagall, her stern features softened by concern.

"Severus," she said, her tone unusually gentle, "I thought I might find you here."

"Minerva," he replied with a slight nod, though his voice was edged with weariness. "I trust there's a reason for this unannounced visit?"

Minerva didn’t immediately respond. She stepped inside and closed the door behind her, her movements deliberate, and her gaze sharp as always. She had been his colleague for years, and over that time, she had come to understand him more than most. But there was something different about her today, something perceptive in the way her eyes followed his every movement, as if weighing something heavy.

"I need to speak with you, Severus," she said, her voice quieter now. "And I believe you need to hear me out."

Severus tilted his head, his interest piqued. "I’m listening."

Minerva took a deep breath before sitting down opposite him. Her hands folded neatly in her lap as she began, carefully choosing her words.

"I've noticed the way things have been between you and Y/N lately," she started, her gaze steady but soft. "And I’m sure you’ve noticed, too. She’s been… distant not only to you but to everyone."

Severus stiffened, his chest tightening. "I hadn’t noticed," he replied, though even to his own ears, the words sounded hollow. He had noticed of course. How could he not? The absence of her smile, the quiet that surrounded her every time they crossed paths — it was impossible to ignore. He had simply been too afraid to confront it.

Minerva’s gaze softened with an almost imperceptible sigh. "Of course you noticed, Severus. But I don’t think you understand why she’s been avoiding you."

He frowned, his brows knitting together. "She has her reasons, no doubt. But if it’s something about my behavior, then it’s none of your concern."

Minerva leaned forward slightly, her voice dropping to a quieter, more direct tone. "Maybe not but it is your concern, Severus. Y/N has been avoiding you because she’s finally given up. She cares about you more than you realize — more than you’ve ever given her credit for. She’s been trying to show you that for months."

Severus recoiled slightly, as if struck. "What are you talking about?"

Minerva’s eyes softened, though there was an unmistakable firmness to her words. "Y/N is not the kind of person to wear her heart on her sleeve. But she’s a kind woman, a generous soul, and she’s been trying, in her own quiet way, to get your attention. She’s been patient, thoughtful, and kind, always offering you small gestures — a smile, an invitation, a word of encouragement — things she knew you needed, even if you didn’t ask for them. But you never noticed. You’ve always been so consumed by your own… distance, your own walls, that you failed to see how much she cared for you."

Severus felt something twist inside of him, sharp and painful. He thought of all the times he had dismissed her, all the times he had pushed her away. The little moments, the fleeting glances, the kindness she had shown him without asking for anything in return. The realization hit him like a jolt of electricity — he had been blind. Completely blind.

"She’s given up, Severus," Minerva continued, her voice full of quiet understanding. "She’s stopped trying. And that… that is what you’re feeling now. The absence of something you took for granted. But you need to realize something — it’s not too late. If you want her to stay, if you want her to know how much you care… then you need to show her. You need to show her before she walks away completely."

Her words hung in the air between them, heavy and undeniable. Severus’s mind was whirling, and his stomach churned with regret. He couldn’t let her go. Not like this. Not when he was finally starting to understand the depth of his own feelings.

Minerva stood up and placed a hand on his shoulder, her touch surprisingly gentle. "Don’t waste any more time, Severus. I’ve seen the way you look at her when you think no one’s watching. You’re not as good at hiding it as you think. She deserves to know how you feel. If you don’t tell her now, you may never get the chance again."

Severus nodded, his face grim but determined. He had no more excuses. He needed to act.

It was late in the evening when Severus finally made his way to the greenhouse. He had spent hours pacing his office, turning Minerva’s words over in his mind, until he had worked up the courage to do what he should have done weeks ago.

Y/N was there, as always, amidst the plants that seemed to bloom brighter in her presence. She was kneeling beside a potted plant, carefully tending to its roots, her back turned to the door.

For a moment, Severus hesitated. His heart was pounding in his chest, and for the first time in a long while, he felt vulnerable. His pride had kept him distant for so long, but now, standing in front of her, it felt like he had nothing left but the raw truth of his feelings.

"Professor L/N," he said, his voice low but steady.

Y/N’s head snapped up in surprise. She looked at him for a long moment, her face unreadable. "Professor Snape," she replied quietly, her voice just as cold as it had been the past few weeks. "I wasn��t expecting you."

He swallowed hard, forcing himself to step closer, the sound of his boots on the stone floor loud in the silence. "I owe you an apology, Y/N."

Her eyebrows furrowed slightly, and she stood, brushing her hands on her apron. "You owe me nothing, Professor."

Severus shook his head, the words rushing out before he could stop them. "No. I do owe you something. I’ve been… blind. I’ve ignored you, pushed you away, and I’ve been foolish. I’ve taken your kindness for granted and never once thought to reciprocate it. I never realized how much you… how much you meant to me." He paused, swallowing against the tightness in his throat. "You were trying, weren’t you? Trying to tell me how you felt, trying to show me you cared. And I—"

Y/N’s expression softened, though there was still a hint of sadness in her eyes. "Severus, you don’t have to do this," she said quietly, her voice trembling slightly. "It’s too late."

"No," he said, his voice more insistent now. "It’s not too late. I was a fool, and I’m sorry. I don’t expect forgiveness, but I can’t stand the thought of you walking away because I didn’t see what was right in front of me. Please. I—"

Y/N took a step closer, her eyes searching his face, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, Severus saw something in her eyes that wasn’t guarded. Something warm. Vulnerable.

"You don’t have to apologize," she said, her voice soft but steady. "I didn’t think you’d ever see me like that. I gave up, Severus. I thought you didn’t want me around."

Severus reached out, his hand hovering just in front of her as if afraid to touch her. "I was wrong. I was so wrong."

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The only sound in the greenhouse was the soft rustling of leaves, the distant hum of magic in the air. Then, with a gentle but firm motion, Severus reached out and took her hand in his. His heart raced, and for the first time, he allowed himself to be vulnerable — to let her see what had been hidden behind the icy walls he had built for so long.

Y/N’s gaze softened, and she squeezed his hand, her lips parting slightly as if to speak, but instead, she just looked at him — with warmth, with understanding.

And for once, Severus didn’t feel alone.

[lionizingheathen]

Let it be me - H.G.

Hermione Granger x Fem!Reader

Eating your best friend Hermione out for the first time.

Warnings: Smut, fluff, oral sex, fingering, nipple play

Smut under cut

Being best friends with someone as gorgeous as Hermione Granger was not for the weak, it’d turned you into a fucking freak, all you could think about was getting on your knees and spreading her thighs, hearing her whimper as she tugged on your hair… These fantasies were fine in your bedroom where you could simply get yourself off, but you were in her living room, there was nowhere to go…

And she was sitting with her legs open in the cutest sleep shorts you’d ever seen in your life, and all you could think of was pulling them off her hips and burying your tongue deep inside you.  You clenched your fingers on your pants, clearing your throat.

You couldn’t stand it anymore.

"Hermione." You asked, looking over at her as a slight smile twitched on her lips, her eyebrow flitting up… Fuck, there was something so sexy about the way that she just existed, it made you want her in the filthiest ways possible, as wrong as it really was. She was your best friend, if you had any tact or patience left, you’d probably abandon ship right now… But you didn’t have an ounce left.

"Y/N." She said, still not looking up from her book. You licked your lips, swallowing on a dry throat as you shifted closer, reaching out to tuck some of her hair behind her ear as your heart pounded in your chest, begging you to give up.

But you couldn't.

“Could I eat you out?” You asked, watching as Hermione's eyes widened, her book falling from her hands as she looked over at you, shocked. God, you wanted to back pedal so hard, but you were too far gone already, it was now or never

Hopefully it wouldn't ruin your friendship, that would destroy you.

“Huh?” Her voice was high and nervous as she said that, making you laugh as you leaned a little closer, noticing that she seemed intrigued, which was a good sign.

“I… Really don’t think I slipped up my words, I think I just asked if I could eat you out.” You traced a finger down her cheek before she brought a hand up to cover yours, looking over at you nervously.

“Do you want to?” She asked, and you nodded quickly.

Obviously, you wouldn't have asked if you didn't want to.

“Fuck yes.” You leaned closer, pressing a kiss below her ear before you spoke into it, noting how her breath caught in her throat. “I’ve been wondering how you taste all fucking night.” She pushed your face away, shaking her head as she did.

Shit. You were ready to take it all back, but then you noticed the little bit of a smile on her face.

“Did someone slip you veritaserum?” Hermione asked, sounding breathless as you chuckled, shaking your head, your hand sliding on her thigh... You weren't sure who would be slipping you veritaserum in her living room, but you could humor her.

“No, I’m just trying to be bold because the nice, slow approach wasn’t getting me anywhere.” You stopped your fingers just shy of her cunt, looking at her for any sort of indication. “Can I?” You asked and she sighed, leaning forward with her elbows resting on her thighs.

You withdrew your hand, not wanting to overstep a boundary, but she was quick to grab your wrist and put it back, looking at you with a nervous expression.

“No one’s ever… Done that with me before.” Oh. “I mean, I haven’t let anyone, I’ve had people ask but I always got nervous.” She said, and you nodded, resting your forehead on her upper back as you traced patters on her upper thigh.

You didn't care if no one else ever had, you just wanted to know if you could be the first.

“Listen, if you’re not comfortable then I won’t push, but if you want it and you’re okay with it being me, I’d love to be the first face you’ve ever cum on.” You said, smiling at the way that she whimpered, covering her face with her hands before she bent fully over again, seeming both embarrassed and a little turned on.

A little turned on was what you were hoping for... You didn't wanna freak her out.

“Merlin, that makes me sound lame… I’m thirty and I’ve never had anyone go down on me.” She said, her voice muffled by her hands, but all you did was shrug.

Sex wasn't a race; everyone could go at their own pace.

“So?”  You lifted her head, placing a hand on her cheek as you stared into her deep brown eyes, your heart catching in your chest... All of the good things in the world were behind those eyes, you were sure of it. “You’re also high ranking in the Ministry… You’ve had other priorities, that’s okay.”  She smiled, pressing her face into your hand as you cleared your throat... Okay... Okay, you could do this. “But I can also catch you up on that milestone right now, if you want.” You offered, and for a terrifying moment, she said nothing and then she looked away from you, neither of those being the things that you were hoping for.

“I…”  Her mouth opened and closed before she cleared her throat, looking at you nervously, her leg bouncing. “What if I taste weird?” You chuckled, shaking your head. If she did, that was no big deal, but you had pretty good faith that she was going to taste as good as she looked.

“You won’t.” You said, and she grimaced, shaking her head, clearly too lost in her own thoughts to listen to you.

“What if I do?” You gripped her chin, making her look you in the eyes, noting how she gasped and how her vision trained down on your lips.

Cute.

“You won’t.” You let out a shaky sigh, cupping her face once more. “Please, Hermione…” You slid down to your knees in front of her, never breaking eye contact as her eyes widened. “Please.” She bit back a moan, shaking her head as if she was in a trance before she looked up at the ceiling, puffing out her cheeks.

Just go for it, baby.

“Fuck… You… Look really good on your knees I never needed to know just how good you look on your knees…” Hermione gasped, and you chuckled, spreading her legs a little bit so that you could come between them, slipping your hands up her stomach, bunching her shirt up a bit as you rested your chin against her upper stomach.

“I’m begging you, Hermione.”  You pressed a kiss there. “Please.” She gasped heavily before nodding.

Fuck yes.

"Okay… Fine, okay.” You leaned up, pressing a kiss to her lips, swallowing her gasp as she tugged lightly at your hair, legs closing around you instinctually. “Mmm…” You pulled back, grinning at her.

"Figured starting with a kiss would be good-.”  She had a determined look as she pulled you in again, slipping her tongue between your lips, making you shiver. “Mmm…” You kissed down the side of her neck, hands slipping under her top to cup her breasts so that you could tug at her nipples harshly, feeling something in you release.

This was heavenly.

"Ha… Ohmygod… Fuck… Take my top off.” She gasped, and you nodded, pulling back to pull her top over her head, your mouth dropping open at the smooth, dark skin that was slowly exposed. You stared at her breasts, squeezing them in your hands, rolling her nipples between your fingers as you squirmed.

You wanted her forever.

"Jesus Christ…” You mumbled, and Hermione cleared her throat, looking away from you, clearly embarrassed.

“Stop staring.” You shook your head.

How the fuck were you supposed to look away from someone who was the definition of beauty.

“I can’t help it… I’m in awe of you.” You said, and Hermione shook her head, frowning.

"Stop..." You bent down, pulling a nipple between your teeth as she gasped, high and needy.

"No." You mumbled against her skin, your hands travelling lower to shuck her pajama shorts off. "I won't." You said firmly, pulling back to nudge her thighs open, your breath catching in your throat.

She was so wet, needy, and spread out for you.

"Fuck..." She whined, making you look her in the eyes... She was desperate, needy... Shy.

You sighed, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her lips.

"You're so wet." You pulled back, looking down as you did... You just couldn't take your eyes away from her. "Already so wet." You mumbled, tracing your fingers over her cunt, watching as they came away glistening even though you hardly even touched her...

Shit, this was gonna be so fucking good.

"Always am around you." Hermione mumbled, and you smirked, raising an eyebrow as you looked away from her cunt and back to her face.

"Is that so?" You asked, and she rolled her eyes, pushing your face away as your hand inched lower.

You wanted to be inside her.

"Get that look off your face, come on... Oh.... Fuck..." Hermione gasped, and you looked down, your own mouth dropping open when you realized that she'd taken your fingers so quickly that you'd hardly even been able to process it... She was so warm.

And so fucking wet. You slid your fingers out of her before slamming them back in, loving the gasp that came from her and the wet sound it made with each thrust.

This was heaven.

"Sorry, couldn't resist... You took my fingers like they were nothing." You breathed, ghosting a kiss over her lips as she whimpered, cupping your face to give you a serious look.

"Curl them." She said, and you furrowed your brows... You were almost sure that she meant for you to curl your fingers, but your brain was working at like... Maybe half of its normal power right now.

"Huh?"

"Curl them... And use your damn tongue." She groaned, her head hanging back on the couch as she spread her legs further, bringing her free hand behind your head to push your face between them, making you gasp into her cunt, your eyes rolling back at the feeling, the taste.

"Mmmph..." You groaned, sliding your tongue over her as you sighed, looping your free arm around her lower back as you nodded, curling your fingers deep inside of her, hearing her whimper as she ground on your face, a heavenly feeling that you were sure that no one would ever be able to replicate. "Taste so good." You mumbled, hearing Hermione let out a high whine.

"Holy fuck... Yes, yes just like that, please."

"So polite-." She tugged your hair hard, pulling you back in in the sexiest most non-Hermione way possible.

"Don't fucking stop." She groaned, which wasn't something that you needed to be told - you never wanted to stop anyway, there was no way that you'd just pull away with no reason.

"Mhm." She ground her hips against your face quicker, allowing you to bury your face in her cunt.

Fucking hell.

"So good, so fucking good... Better than... I ever... Fucking imagined." Hermione whined, and you smirked against her cunt, your ego soaring at the realization that Hermione had imagined you like this before... Part of you wanted to tease her, to ask exactly what she'd imagined, but you didn't want to stop right now, you were loving this too much.

"Ha." You groaned, lapping up her cunt as you curled deep inside her, feeling how she squeezed around you.

Good girl.

"Y/N..." Her voice was wrecked, sounding like she was moments away from cumming... Cum for me, cum for me... Please cum for me.

"'M cumming! Fuck, I'm cumming, oh my god..." She whined, grinding against your face as you let out a groan of relief, rubbing your thighs together to ease the burn there... You wanted to focus on her, not on your own arousal, overpowering as it was.

"Mmmm..." You kept going, desperate to feel her cum again as she whined, high and desperate, trying to run from your touch.

No. Don't. Don't run.

"Y/N, baby... Baby, I just... I'm so..." Her back arched as she scratched at your scalp, shuddering her way through another sudden orgasm. "Fuck!" You moaned heavily, pulling your fingers out of her so that you could pull her closer, not wanting to be done with her yet...

But she batted you away before you could.

"No more..." She mumbled, and you nodded, pulling back quickly as you looked up at her, seeing her chest rising and falling rapidly... Fuck, that'd been...

Well, it'd been amazing to you.

"How was that?" You asked, and she let out a lazy chuckle.

"Are you joking?" She mumbled, sounding exhausted in a way that made your heart swell with pride, but you didn't want to be premature - you wanted to make sure that you should really be proud right now.

Premature celebration would be a bit embarrassing.

"No. I wanna know." You said, wiping your mouth off carefully as you traced on her legs, trying to keep yourself calm. She uncovered her eyes, leaning forward a bit as she spoke, still looking dazed.

"That was the best sex I've ever had in my entire life." Hermione gasped, a large smile on her face as you kissed over her thighs, gently pulling her to your chest once you were seated beside her again, watching as she flicked her wand to bring a blanket over to the two of you, settling it over your entwined bodies.

"Good." She was quiet for a moment, pensive before she looked back up at you.

"Next time, you should let me get you off." Hermione said, and you raised an eyebrow.

Oh?

"Next time?" You asked and she snorted, nodding like that was a given.

"Obviously." She cupped your cheek, kissing you slowly before she pulled back, her forehead resting against yours. "I'm too smart to let you get away." She murmured and you grinned, nodding.

You weren't trying to leave.

[rainydayathogwarts]

summer lovin' - harry potter

summary: you decide to visit harry over the summer, playing the classic 'girl next door' so harry's uncle lets you in. wc: 0.8k+

Adjusting the purse hanging off your shoulder, you silently prayed at you looked like every other muggle in the neighbourhood. More so, you just hoped that your lying skills could get you past the Dursley’s front door. What could you say, summer had been uneventful so far and you knew for a fact that Harry hadn’t seen anyone’s face other than his insolent family’s. To say the least, your boyfriend could use the company.

Knocking on the door twice, it didn’t take long for it to swing open, a large angry man looking back at you. He held a briefcase and wore professional attire. Clearly, you caught him on his way out of the house. You mustered your best ‘girl-next-door’ smile for Harry’s abusive uncle, finally saying. “Hi! I’m looking for Harry Potter?” Easy enough introduction, right? Wrong. Uncle Vernon’s frown deepened, and you immediately knew he suspected you were a witch. “And who might you be?” He asked. “Oh, I’m y/n, sorry! My family and I just moved in a couple of streets down.” You gestured down the road, hoping that your acting was convincing enough. Alas, Vernon’s stare was unrelenting. “Harry and I met at the park yesterday, and he pointed this house out, said he lived here? I thought having some company could be nice.” Godric, it was really difficult trying to be nice for this man. Time to be pushy. “Can I come in?”

For a moment, you thought the man would send you on your way, but a stern looking lady walked past the door, calling out “Vernon, who’s at the door?” Vernon huffed, and you internally celebrated as he made way for you in the doorway. “First floor, last door to the left.” You didn’t bother thanking the man, speeding up the stranger’s stairs, barely hearing him answer his wife’s question.

You came to an abrupt halt in front of Harry’s door, hands flipping your hair over your shoulder before patting down your shirt to smooth out any wrinkles. You knocked on Harry’s door twice, looking down at your shoes nervously. From inside the room, Harry perked up at the sound of knocking on his door. No one in this household ever knocked. They just tried coming in before realising the door was locked, then banged angrily while yelling at him. But two polite knocks? Never. Curiously, Harry stood up from the bed, watching absentmindedly as Hedwig flew back into her cage. He unlocked the door, running a hand through his hair as he pulled it open.

The second Harry laid his eyes on you, he was convinced his eyes were playing tricks on him. He didn’t believe for a second that you were standing in front of him until your lips pulled into a wide smile. He whispered your name once, as though testing it on his lips. ��Hey.” When Harry snapped out of it, his hands were instantly taking yours in his and pulling you into his room. He kicked the door shut, letting his arms snake around your waist whilst yours wrapped around his shoulders. “How, what-?” But Harry cut himself off by bringing you into a well-deserved kiss. You sighed in pleasure, gripping the bottom of his jumper. “How are you here?” He asked, reaching across your body to lock the door behind you.

“Told your uncle I moved down the street. Met you in the park.” Harry laughed, cupping your face in his hand gently. Harry led you towards his bed, and you took in the small room. You greeted Hedwig, but your smile dimmed slightly as your eyes scanned the area. Harry’s suitcase was still packed, open on the floor so he could pull clothes out as he pleased. His textbooks were piled on top of one another, his broom discarded to the side. You cleared your throat to brush the sadness you felt for him away. “I got you some newspapers and quidditch magazines.” You spoke, pulling them out of your purse. Harry’s eyes went wide “How’d you fit those in that?” “I’m a woman of many talents.” You winked at your boyfriend before adding “It’s got some sort of charm on it.” Harry took them from you gratefully, a wide smile on his face as he set them aside on his bed, his hands settling on your waist to pull you onto his lap. He rested his head on your shoulder, pressing a couple of kisses on the exposed skin, softly mumbling “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” You replied, turning on his lap to press a soft kiss on his lips. “Nothing like breaking you out in the middle of the night though, right?” Harry laughed, arms tightening around you. “What do you mean? You actually had to cross uncle Vernon, that’s way worse.” You shuffled on his lap so you could comfortable look at him, raising your eyebrows when you saw Harry’s face flush with a pink tint. You didn’t have time to ask what that was about before you felt his raising cock poking you in the thigh. “I’m sorry.” He whispered, but he welcomed the kisses you instantly gave him, turning to straddle him.

“Is it weird if we have sex in front of an owl?”

taglist: @ravisinghs-wife, @starry-remus, @pain-in-the-ashe, @hiireadstuff, @treefairy-28, @superlegend216, @kitkatkl, @juliet-017