#Harry Potter x reader

[goodhitosblog]

[muntitled]

𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝-𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐅𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐬 | 𝐌.𝐑.

Pairings: Mattheo Riddle x afab!Reader

Summary: Pansy voices her concern for your relationship. Mattheo couldn't care less.

Warnings: Language, Established Relationship, Trust Issues, Jealousy, Toxicity, Ravenclaw!Reader, Male Manipulation, Gaslighting, Manhandling, Marking, Smut +18 (mdni), Hard Dom!Matt, Sub!Reader, Fingering, PiV, Degradation Kink, Impact Play, Forced Breeding, Spit Play, DUB/CON, Grinding, Forced Orgasm, Rough Sex, Humiliation Kink, Slight CNC, Extreme Humiliation,

3.5k words

Pansy hadnt even set foot in your dorm room for less than 60 seconds before she's already sighing up a tempest.

"How utterly unbecoming." Pansy mutters and you roll your eyes.

It's not her fault. She's always like this. It's inscribed in her genetic make up to complain.

Everything in the entire universe could be perfectly placed and Pansy would simply have to find something wrong. From the moment you invited her into your dorm room, you knew she'd find something amiss. No amount of cleaning spells could hide under her scrutiny.

"Since when does your room smell like cigarettes and firewhiskey?" You curse under your breath, squinting your eyes shut as you push the soor shut and shrug off your cloak.

"Was he in your room again?" She asks, lowering herself onto your bed with a certain amount of caution that should have offended you. It's not that you hated Pansy - you just didn't fancy her, nor her opinions about your relationship at the best of times. To Pansy, the possibility of you even being in a relationship, with an actual boy who displayed interest in you, had been remarkably out of left field.

"You mean Mattheo?" You ask, dropping your textbook on the bed as you unconvered your wand, "He's my boyfriend, Pan, it comes with the territory," You flick your wand, casting Multicorfors while Pansy readied her study equipment.

As Pansy's complaints expand and morph, so do your clothes. The tight, constricting uniform you donned for the majority of the school day whizzes into your lounge wear. A sweater- Ravenclaw blue and black shorts. The summer sun is very oppressive and incredibly unforgiving. 

Nothing but warm, uncomfortable air drifts over your legs.

"He's changed you, you know?" Pansy says very solenmenly, staring at you with those raven eyes as you lower yourself onto the bed.

"Can we study, please? They don't call these the Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Test for no reason."

"You used to be quieter," Pansy continues.

Not quieter, just less confident, but you don't bother to tell her this. She had been comfortable with you playing your role as the shy little Ravenclaw she adopted out of pity. You went unnoticed for the longest time. Burying your feelings of anonymity under the guise of academic drive.

He saw you.

He liberated you.

"Can we study?" You've resorted to pleading, letting your fingers rake into your scalp, pushing your braids back as you hoped to do with the oncoming migraine.

She can barely keep her dark eyes stationed to one spot, turning her disapproval to her surroundings. Prefects were reserved single rooms and for that, you were grateful.

You and Pansy had chosen to alternate locations for every study session. For DADA, you were forced to recount spells on the cold floor of of the Slytherin dungeon. That was tough- having to pretend to focus on your work while you could hear his voice amongst his friends, loud and boisterous.

Fortunately (or perhaps unfortunately) you were both studying in your dorm room today- a dire mistake because nearly everything in your room reminded you of Mattheo. 

Your biggest reminder of his presence, however, being the marks riddled along your sternum, neck and chest. All the little gifts he left you, hidden away under the thickness of a Ravenclaw sweater.

Pansy feigned hyperbolic horror as she scans your room- probably imagining all the atrocities that might've happened on this bed. No matter how much you informed her, everything was clean, you know it was no use.

"We should've just studied in my room,"

"And have me at risk of catching whatever diseases lay in the Malfoy bloodline?" You snorted at your own reply, gloriously pleased as you began to idly stroking the bit of raw skin concealed under your knitted turtleneck.

"I hope you know, I'm not on board with your relationship-"

"Can we refrain from talking about Riddle?"

"This isn't even dating anymore. Mattheo is fucking consuming you," There is a blaze of vexation in her tone that has you fighting the urge to look up from your notes, "He's fucking everywhere, [☆], I can barely breathe-" The marks left along your neck scratch into the hellish, knitted fabric, and Pansy's whining seems to make it worse. "Not to mention, your questionable taste in men. I mean, Mattheo? Really? He's a certified delinquent and you're far too nice for him-"

The air is hotter.

The sweater is warmer.

There'sa reasom you're wearing it but you're soon starting to forget.

Failing to keep up with Pansy, and her incessant nagging as well as the knitted nightmare around you're throat.

Without much thought- not any thought at all- your fingers hook into the collar of your sweater, before you began to pull it up. Slowly the fabric inches away, making your warm skin accessible to the dorm room's constant shade of cool, and relief immediately floods through your system.

You didn't show much. Only a sliver of the skin around your chest but that was enough.

This relief is promptly disturbed by Pansy's rough and torrid gasp, which has you comically pulling your sweater back into place at the speed of life.

"What in the bloody hell is all that?!" Her cries fight to reach the ceiling in your room. You wince, disappointed but not regretting being momentarily freed from the sweater,

"Nothing,"

"Don't you dare lie to me," she says, pushing her books away, and leaning towards you with wide eyes. You frown at the worry you see swimming in her irisies - thinking that this is precisely what you were trying to avoid. Her worry and her knack for jumping to conclusions.

Your nose is buried in your notes as you lay back and say, "Don't look so worried,"

"Don't tell me not to look worried, I'll bloody hell look how I want to look- as worried as I want to look, thank you very much!"

"Shh!"

"Merlin's beard! What the actual fuck is Mattheo attempting to accomplish there?" She attempts to pull at the sweater, attempting to get another glimpse at the bruises but you pull away until your back rests directly agaisnt your headboard. "Is he a fucking vampire because he sure as shit leeches like one!?"

"They're just lovebites," you attempt to say with a small shrug, but Pansy is even more disturbed.

"Those aren't just love bites, they're fucking bruises,"

You hated her tone. You despised it. It made you feel ostracized, and bad, and pitiful.

There is no reality in which you could possibly tell Pansy that these marks were a product of your desires, not the villainous being she painted Mattheo out to be. As if you were suffering by his hands.

Was it so difficult to imagine that, perhaps you asked him to handle you a little rougher?

That, Mattheo had initially been nothing but meticulous when it came to preserving what he thought was your unmistakable innocence and fragility.

You rememebr the softness of his hands when he took your virginity. How he hovered above you, nestled between your legs. He was clenching his jaw as he eased himself inside you at snail pace.

"I don’t have anywhere to be, take your time," you had jested with a lazy smile while, Riddle's jaw had ticked.

"Carry on with your little jokes and I might not be so forgiving," There was only a sliver of truth in his voice Mattheo thought he might force himself deeper just because his patience was waning. He needed to go quicker, he needed to be rougher. This gentleness was going against everything in his very nature. His body burned for him to make a mess inside you, clamp his hand over your mouth and fuck you into the mattress until you begged him to stop... until you would have the marks to prove it.

But he liked you.

And he had never felt this way before.

And he would never let his recklessness steal this away from him

You felt him twicth inside you, and you peered up at his brown eyes now squeezed shut.

"What were you thinking about just now?" you asked softly, as Mattheo begun a slowly rhythm with his hips- barely grazing that pool of need inside you.

"Don't worry about what I'm thinking about," He blew out a hot and heavy breath, "what the fuck are you think about? You're cunt is gripping my cock like a vice- you fucking slut," He did not mean to say that.

Or maybe he did.

The words rush out through clenched teeth, your thighs framing him only locked tighter around his hips as you stared up at the shadow over his darkened eyes.

This is what you wanted. This is what made you fall in love with him in the first place.

His warning glare alone kicked your arousal up by alot and soon, your soft hips were lifting in tandem with his strokes, "you like that?" He asked hoarsely.

For the first time that evening, you were utterly speechless. Mattheo watched with shallow breath as your pupils dilated and his cock twitched with the knowledge that you were slipping into subspace right in front of him. He experimentally brought a calloused hand around the base of your throat, testing, "you like it when I call you my little slut?"

"Mattheo,"

"That's not an answer,"

"Yes- FUCK!" That evening, Mattheo had the sole mission of discovering what else it is you enjoyed, marveling at how much your sexual preferences ran parallel to each other: you, ever the obedient sub with an affinity for being degraded and praised at tje same time and him, ever the sadist, with his prolonged orgasms ans his slapping and his spitting and his name calling.

Just thinking about it was sending you into servitude complete frenzy, right here on the bed in your dorm room.

Bloody hell, you were getting turned on by the very memory of him.

Your ripped back into the present when your door flies open. "Don't tell me if can't be here, alright, it's your fault for giving me the passw-" Mattheo stills at the sight of Pansy. Your eyes widen.

Horrified.

"There the fuck you are!" Pansy exclaims, "You fucking insolent piece of-"

"Pansy," Mattheo says. That crooked smirk of his cracking his face as he pushes the door shut by leaning back, "Never a pleasure seeing you." Leaving the bristling girl, he turns to you, brown curls dripping with sweat he says, "Princess, always a pleasure,"

Mattheo sends you a lecherous little wink, but your gaze is on the parchment on your lap.

You had messed up.

You'd let a stranger in on the most intimate parts of your relationship and you're not sure how Mattheo might handle it. His brows furrow in confusion.

"What the bloody hell have you put in her head now?" He asks Pansy with a slight frown.

"Why does she have marks on herself?" She grumbles like a dark cloud.

His brows are furrowed for the most part. Arms crossed over his Slytherin sweater as he tilts his head.

"Oh!" He strides across the floor and you shiver when stands beside you, pulling down the collar of your sweater before asking, "These marks?"

You pull away from him, but he pulls you right back. As he leans agasint the wood of your four poster bed, he drapes his arm around you like a scarf.

Watching Pansy as he says, "Don't hide it, baby show it off,"

"Mattheo," you warn.

"I think Pansy should see herself out," you hear him say. And she huffs and puffs.

The summer heat is eating you alive, biting at chunks of your sanity, rendering you completely unable to engage in an argument. Your tired eyes have been stagnant on the quilt draped on your bed since the two started arguing.

You're spent.

"This isn't even studying." You hear yourself say, "We'll continue tomorrow," you stand abruptly as you scramble to get all of Pansy's things. This has gone on for far too long.

Far too long.

She watches you assemble her belongings with wide eyes and an open mouth while an incredulous smirk plays along Riddle's lips.

"No way-"

You're already pushing her towards the door.

"I'll see you in DADA tomorrow"

"No fucking way-"

"Pansy, for fuck's sake, everything we've done has been consensual. I love you. So so much, but please get the fuck out so I can think straight!" 

She is stunned into silence as you wordlessly open your front door.

She nods woodenly, and behind you, Mattheo chortles.

You turn your head, "You're on thin fucking ice, Riddle." you snap at him and his mouth snaps shut as he rights his posture.

Pansy sighs after reassuring you that she'll see you tomorrow and you sigh in turn.

"I liked that tone." Riddle says, already shedding his sweater as he throws himself on your bed. "You should use it more often-" You push the door shut as he lays supine on your bed, taking up too much space.

Pansy was right.

He is everywhere.

And his attitude is far too lax.

You're seething.

"Shut the fuck up," you mumble before walking across the wooden floor with purpose. He props himself up by his elbows.

"I'm not the one to be mad at here-"

"Shut. Up." You repeat before crawling onto his lap until your legs were straddling his hips.

"Who're you talking to like tha-" before Mattheo could even get a word in, your lips are crashing onto his. It's not a sweet or polite a kiss like he usually expects from you. 

This kiss is loud, it's hungry and violent.

His nails dig into your braids. His bottom lips are pulled in between your teeth and your body is trembling on top of his. You couldn't tell him that you found his behaviour today both hot and completely inappropriate. 

You're trying to push your tongue into his mouth. His teeth clamp shut but you nip at his bottom lip, causing him to let out a low groan. Your tongue slithers into his mouth.

You're trying to overpower him and Mattheo puts a stop to that real quick.

He's breathing against your lips.

"The fuck do you think you're doing?" He asks in that tone that was equally beautiful and so scary to you, "you think just 'cus you shouted at your little friend, you thought you could do the same to me?"

The tables are turning, and just as quickly,  Mattheo's hand cups the base of your neck. He squeezes right before pulling your neck closer, until your ear is pressed against his lips. "I'm not Pansy, yeah?" He says. And you're not even able to get a word out before he's forcing his forefingers into your mouth until you're gagging all over them. "You get to pull that shit out there. Not in here," 

When he pulls his fingers out, they're absolutely coated in your saliva. He wastes no time in pushing that same hand down your shorts and into your lace panties.

"Who'd you wear these for? D'you wear them for Pansy, you fucking slut-"

"Oh my god, Matt-" your knees cramp as your hips snap against Mattheo's hand rubbing fast circles on your clit. He stares up at you like a God, your knees digging into the bed underneath you both.

He knew he had you and Mattheo cackled as you writhed on his lap like a wild animal. He keeps you tame with a firm hold around your throat.

"Matt, p-please-"

You're not sure what you're asking for. Maybe a slower speed so you could enjoy yourself properly? Anything but those menacing eyes of his looking up at you with dark hunger.

"Who's whore are you, you haven't answered-"

"F-Fuck I'm gonna cum-" 

"Without asking?" He tsks the very moment stars explode in your vision and you're humping his hand like a dog in heat. There was no way you could've ever put off this orgasm and Mattheo knew that. He's rubbing so furiously as if he was fighting to get a point across.

"Fuck-" Mattheo curses under his breath before pulling his hand out of your shorts. 

You're a trembling mess. He kisses you far harder than you had kissed him. Like he wants to make a point. 

"Take these off- I need'a see those beautiful marks baby," despite his words, it's Mattheo who helps you out of your woollen sweater. The string of cultural beads hanging from your waist come into view. At the sight of all his bruises, far too many to count, covering your entire collar bone, Mattheo's hand flies to his dick. 

He pulls you in by the neck for another messy kiss before lifting you off his lap. His lips trail from your cheeks and down to your collarbone where his teeth extend. He bites hungrily into the marks, savoring your loud whining as pushes down your shorts. 

"I'm gonna cum inside you." A gasp leaves your throat and your eyes widen. You look down at Mattheo, his eyes showing just how far gone he is.

"But I didnt- we never-"

"Shh," he whispers before guiding the palm of his hand to your warm cheeks. He caresses the skin, making your eyes go hazy and your limbs jello. He lifts his hips, pushing down his sweatpants. Your chest tightens as he pulls his cock out. As if on autopilot you move to take your own shorts and underwear off before straddling him once more.

"You wanna be good for me, yeah? You wanna be my whore, don't you?"

"Matt-"

It's all you're able to say but from the desperation in your eyes, he knows.

"I knew you'd be a good girl for me," he says before bringing your soaking cunt down on cock. It was very similar to the last time. You could tell this was Matt's favourite position. To have you naked on top of him. Curves and all.

"You're so hot- fuck-" you hear him mumble below. He stutters his hips upwards, prompting you to grind down against him.

"The humping is hot as shit-" he groans, "But I'm gonna cum inside you Princess-" He pats down at your hair, his fingers dragging through your braids as you mewl into the warm air.

His other hand slides down your chest, fingers gliding down your waist beads until he is rubbing his palm against your ass.

"You're trembling," he says.

"M'sorry" you apologise without even knowing why. It's then that Mattheo knows he has you in subspace. That mental space where you were particularly pliant. So incredibly malleable. His cock twitches.

"I'm already leaking precum, fuck-" you shudder against him, cunt clenching around nothing as you grind against him, loving the way he got particularly reckless with his mouth whenever he was far too horny. You could feel the arousal leak out of you.

"Pl-Please fuck me," Your hand searches the bedsheets for his, "I need it- need you, please,"

"Fuck," he mumbles before lining his cock up at your slit. He lifts your torso enough to cup his hand around your breasts. Time stands still when he eases it in. He doesn't know where to look. Your face, contoreted in pleasue and pain. Or his cock disappearing into your soaked cunt.

"Fuck, I'll never tire of that." He groans. "I'll never tire of you." furiously. His hips snaps upwards, sinking his cock in.

He sets a jittery and stilted pace. As if he was doing it all for the sole purpose of fucking his cum into you. "My pretty girl," he mumbles as he pushes his cock deeper and deeper into your soaked slit, "My pretty princess," he says, "All fucking mine-"

"I'm cumming-" it sneaks up on you.

You're only aware of it when your hands scrape against his bare chest. Your eyes rolling into the back of your skull as your back arches.

The words barely leave your mouth before your brain goes absolutely dumb.

"You that sensitive?" He teases in between sound winded and breathless. "Are you that much of a slut? Cumming the second there's a cock inside you-"

"M-Matt, fuck," you try to ride him, but your body's euphoric spasms are too violent, too viscious.

"Oh my God," He'd never had sex like this. He'd never felt anyone like this. He lifts himself until you're both sitting chest to chest. Matt curses as he wraps your legs around his waist, grinding you further against his cock.

"I'm gonna fucking breed you." He promises. Watching you dead in the eyes.

You've both lost all rhythm.

By now it's staggeringly apparent that he's using your body to search for his own orgasm.

He grinds his hips against yours. "Gonna breed you-" He says, splaying wet kisses along your chest. "Gonna let everyone know who you belong to- fuck-"

His resolve snaps and his movements become sloppy. "These tits-" His muscles tense as he spurts all his cum inside you. Seconds feel like hours in the haziness of this rough and raw sex. His hands are everywhere, praising every inch of your skin as his cock stays buried inside you. His teeth sink into he skin at your neck and you moan as your cunt constricts his cock. Mattheo has you wrapped in his trembling arms. Mouth agape and eyes hazy.

He pulls apart a little to look down, between your conjoined bodies as he eases his cock out with clenched teeth.

You shiver when his fingers replace his cock. With his middle and index, he forces the cum back inside.

"I-I really need to learn a contraception spell," he whistles lowly.

"And I really need to study." You sigh.

[cherrixpie]

HOW NOT TO DATE A SLYTHERIN

part four of five

↬ being harry potter's sister wouldn't make dating theodore nott any easier - which was why you tried to hide it. only, you could only lie to your brother for so long...

↬ sfw; fluff & angst; wc: 5.4k; cw: suggestive, partial nudity; secret relationship trope, potter!reader, griffindor! reader

The castle was alive with anticipation, the crisp morning air buzzing with excitement of match day. The first quidditch match of the season, Griffindor versus Slytherin, was to take part today. After breakfast, you would join your team on the pitch and -hopefully- win the game. The first game of the season had always been the most nerve wracking to you, but with the new layer of excitement of playing against your secret boyfriend, you were vibrating with anticipation.

As you made your way towards the Great Hall, the sound of distant cheers and chants already echoed from the grounds outside, early fans eager to secure the best seats. Griffindor red and Slytherin green clashed in waves of color as students of either house swarmed towards breakfast. Though you didn't stick out in your quidditch attire that was as scarlet red as the hats, capes and scarfs of the Griffindor fans, the people who noticed you wished you good luck for the match.

Rounding the corner near the staircase, you nearly collided with Theo, who was casually leaning against the stone wall, his broom slung over his shoulder and his emerald scarf lazily wrapped around his neck. You knew he had been waiting for you when your eyes met. After last night, you had been worried your argument would result in a permanent rift between you, but his eyes lit up when they locked with yours.

“Well well,” he drawled, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “If it isn't Gryffindor’s star chaser. Shouldn't you be off practicing some last-minute heroics?”

You pretended to be annoyed rather than filled to the brim with adoration and rolled your eyes, but you couldn't help the small smile that crept onto your face. “Funny. I was just about to ask if Slytherin had finally resorted to bribing Madam Hooch. Seems like the only way you’d stand a chance today.”

Glancing around the deserted booth under the staircase, Theo pushed himself off the wall and strode slowly towards you. You uncrossed your arms to take his hand, and there you stood, brooms in one hand, holding onto each other with the second. Finally, the subtle smile reached Theo’s eyes as he played with your fingers. “You’ll be great today.”

“You too,” you smiled with exhilaration and took a step closer. Your eyes darted around the small space nervously, but there was no one to see you. So you stood on your tip toes and pecked Theo’s lips softly. What you hadn't anticipated was Theo jolting and surging at you, chasing your retreating lips until he had them locked in a soft caress of his own. A surprised moan escaped you and Theo chuckled softly into your mouth. One hand held your jaw still as he kissed you senseless, the other trailed down to toy with the hem of your jersey.

Kisses with Theo were always a careful mix of fervent passion on your part and disciplined control on his. It was no different now, as Theo lead the kiss, caressing all the right places, balancing that perfect combination of tender and dominating. You fisted your hands in his shirt and pulled him impossibly closer. Suddenly, a cool hand closed around both your wrists, yanking them away and over your hand, making you stumble as your back hit the wall. One of Theo’s hand held your wrists in place over your hand, the other lifted your chin to gain access to your neck.

“Tesoro,” he sighed against your skin, “let me give you a good luck token for the match.” You knew what he meant, and your suspicions were only confirmed when you saw the hungry look in his eyes. You twitched under his heavy gaze and his eyes grew impossibly darker. “Theo… no one can see.”

When he used his index finger to draw a line down your throat towards your collar bone, he left a row of goosebumps in its wake that he took in with great satisfaction. The soft material of your quidditch uniform gave in to his pull as he exposed part of your cleavage. “They won't,” he promised in an impossibly soft voice. “I’ll do it where nobody can see.”

You could barely hear your whispered “okay” over the thundering of your heart beat. The fear of being caught paired with the thrill of anticipation and his dark, hungry eyes culminated in the uncontrollable beating of your heart against your ribcage, as if it wanted to escape from your body, to seek shelter in the meticulous hands of your lover.

Theo dipped his head down to the exposed skin of your cleavage and left a trail of pecks before he found a suitable spot. Biting down on it, he relished in the little gasp it elicited from you. As Theo worked diligently on perfecting the mark, you slipped your hands from his grip and buried them in his dark locks. In response, Theo let out a small groan and lifted his head, tugging up your jersey with a satisfied little smirk. “Now you’re ready.”

During breakfast at the Griffindor table, you kept tugging at your jersey to a point when Hermoine asked wether you were okay. You stocked it up to performance anxiety. When Harry, Ron, Ginny and you left for the quidditch pitch, several people all over the table patted you on the shoulders. Their shouted wishes of luck followed you all the way out of the Great Hall and down the grounds toward the stadium, where you were joined by the rest of the team.

Harry didn't bother with much of a speech, but after yesterday’s brawl, he seemed determined to wipe the smirk off of Malfoy’s face. A notion you couldn't object to. After revising your strategy, the team stepped out onto the pitch, where the Slytherins and Madam Hooch were already waiting. The hollers and booing of a green and red mass of people drowned out any other noise, like the splatter of rain.

The snowfall of the day before had been replaced by a thick rain that made it almost impossible to see farther than a few feet. Not very favorable conditions. You could barely make out Theo within the midst of the Slytherin players. Harry and Malfoy shook hands with particulars nasty scowls on their faces, before you all mounted your brooms and shot up into the rainy mist above. Madam Hooch released the quaffel, Ginny got a hold of it and the game was on.

It was almost impossible to differentiate between friend and foe when your vision was clouded by rain and mist. Your only reconciliation was that the Slytherins weren't any better off than you. It took at least ten minutes for the first goal by Slytherin that had only succeeded because an exasperated Theo had given up on the attempt to pass the Quaffel around as it would be inevitably lost to the mist or a Griffindor player, and did a lucky solo run, completely catching Ron off guard.

After some more failed attempts from both sides, Ginny finally managed to goal for Griffindor. You as well, a few minutes later, because one of Slytherin’s beaters flew into you full force, vision obstructed by the downpour, and Madam Hooch granted a free kick to you. But soon after that, Slytherin had the lead once more. As the game went on, it became increasingly hard to keep track of the score. Though you were pretty sure your team had earned sixty points, you had no idea how many goals Slytherin had. By now you were shaking and clattering your teeth and your hands felt frozen to your broom. If Harry didn't catch the snitch soon, you’d get frostbite.

Nobody flew in formation or followed strategy anymore. When Theo flew past you with the Quaffel, quickly approaching the rings, you took up the chase. You had lost sight of your third chaser for a while now, but you managed to attract Ginny’s attention, who followed you hot on your heels. Seeking cover, you let yourself drop to a few feet under Theo but did not lessen your speed. Waiting until he was only a short distance away from the rings and raised his hand with the Quaffel to dunk it into one of them, you made a sharp turn upwards.

It was risky, but you played on his protective instincts. Theo sensed an approaching figure and lowered his arm. You, on the other hand, shot towards him perpendicularly and caught him off guard. To avoid a collision which he -other than you- would have been able to pull through, Theo turned his broom in a rapid motion. Ginny used the opportunity to knock the Quaffel out of his hands. You caught it, locking eyes with a startled Theo for a split second, and the two of you set off in the direction of the Slytherin rings.

Steering your broom through green and red flashes, you accelerated your speed. Wherever your beaters were, they were doing a fantastic job, as you and Ginny passed through the Slytherins without any bludgers knocking you off your brooms, passing the Quaffel back and forth. When the rings came into sight, you took the lead, shielded your face against the rain to aim and threw the ball. It hit. But another thing hit, too.

WHAM

A sudden pain shot through your body and your hands slipped off your broom. It was so horrible you must have screamed, but your head and senses were numb and unresponsive. You were vaguely aware that the pain originated from your stomach region. That was all, before your body failed you and you could feel yourself falling into darkness.

“Open your eyes, idiota!”

You snapped your eyes open and the first thing you saw was Theo, hovering over you. Just then, you realized he was holding you in his arms and kneeling on the ground of the quidditch pitch. It could have only been a few seconds you blacked out, but judging by the stings and aching all over your body, as well as the fact you were lying beside the stands, you had knocked into the wooden wall of the stands in your fall, where he must’ve caught you. Oh crap. Theo had caught you.

“Get off!” you hushed, scrambling back to your feet even as pain shot through your body at the slightest movement. A particularly nasty ache made you stumble and Theo caught you once more, frowning at you. “Where does it hurt? Where did it hit you?” Oh, right. It must've been a bludger at last. “Can you hear me?” Theo asked and you registered the worry laced into every syllable. Raw, unconcealed fear.

“Y-yeah,” you gritted through clenched teeth and clawed at your side where the bludger had made its impact. It must've been shot from short distance, because rarely had a bludger hit hurt this bad. “Midriff, left side.”

When his hand brushed over the hurting spot, you let out a whimper of agony and Theo quickly retracted it. If it hadn't been for the pain clouding your mind, you’d have teased him for his visible distress. “Where's my broom?” you choked out and Theo looked at you incredulously. “You’re going to Madam Pomphrey, Tesoro. Now.”

“What?” you exclaimed, vaguely aware of voices approaching. You didn't have much time. “No, Theo, I need to play! One of my chasers has taken off, you’ll win! Wait, is that why you’re-”

“Cazzo , Tesoro,” Theo cursed, sending wary glances to the side. “I don't care about winning, I’ll throw the match with you if that's what it takes.”

Suddenly, a familiar voice shouted your name and Theo’s face hardened as Hermoine reached you, looking concerned and rather disheveled. “Are you okay? Madam Pomphrey is on the way.” Obviously under the impression that Theo was harassing you, she gave him a sinister scowl. “What are you doing here, Nott?”

Theo, who’d settled for a mask of indifference once more, let out a mere “tch”, set you down on the grass with a suspicious precariousness, and reached for his broom when-

“HARRY POTTER HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH!” the commentator roared and you breathed out a sigh of relief. About time. “GRIFFINDOR WINS!” announced the speakers and even through the slashing and splashing of the rainfall, your ears were thrumming at the hollers and shouts from the Griffindors.

Though you couldn't see them approaching, soft thuds announced the arrival of your teammates around you. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Theo walk over to his team where he ran into a furious Malfoy, gesticulating heatedly. “Are you okay?” Ginny asked as she and Harry kneeled down to your level. “That damn bludger,” Harry cursed, still holding the snitch. “That Slytherin beater hit you from a few feet distance, Madam Hooch should’ve given him a reprimand!”

“I’m okay,” you assured them and stood up shakily. Hermoine helped you support your weight. “Great job,” you told your brother, ruffling his unruly hair. “I was beginning to think we’d send an imposter in your place.” Even Harry laughed, though he still looked very disconcerted. “What was that guy Nott doing? Did he hex you?”

Oh, most certainly, yes.

“He caught me,” you said in a neutral voice, as if the mere mention of his name didn't have your stomach do cartwheels. Sceptical expressions surrounded you, but they all shrugged it off- all except Ginny. “I’d have gone after you,” she explained apologetically, “But Nott was shooting down like damn lightning and I didn't want to get in the way of that.”

“Weird guy,” you said in an effort to diffuse Hermoine's suspicious look. Harry stepped forward to support your weight, but you let go of Hermoine to demonstrate your walking ability. “I’m fine, I’m okay, just a little bruised up.”

Indeed, none of the others seemed very eager to concentrate on your injuries. Everyone was in the mood for celebration as they changed out of their quidditch robes, already planning the winners party. As they walked out one after the other, you volunteered for cleaning duties, an unpopular job, especially after a won match. “I’ll be there in ten,” you shouted after your brother and Ron leaving for the castle and shut the door.

With a pained groan, you sat down on one of the benches. You hadn't even changed yet, in fear of what you would find on your stomach. Earlier, Madam Pomphrey had cleared you while muttering about the dangers of Quidditch. She had recommended murtlap essence, and you checked the medical closet for it. You found a bottle of the potion and set it down on the bench. The sound of the pouring rain still pelting the roof of the changing room filled the quiet hair as you reached for the hem of your jersey, wincing as your shoulder protested the movement. You thought you were alone- until a quiet knock on the doorframe behind you made you freeze.

“Do you always take this long after a match, or are you just stalling?”

Theo's voice was low, but it carried a certain edge that hindered the casual tone. As you tugged your jersey down in a haste, you spun around to see him leaning against the doorframe. His hair was still damp from the rain, the dark locks were clinging to his forehead. The faintests of smiles tugged at his lips, but it was a little grim, matching the somber look in his eyes. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” you repeated the words you’d been echoing for the last half hour. You hoped a convincing smile would ease his nerves, but his gaze only sharpened when your casual shrug made you wince. “Don't lie to me, tesoro,” Theo said softly, drawing closer to you. He came to a halt and you frowned at the pained look in his eyes. “Bell is a maledetto coglione, Voleva ucciderti? Non hai idea di quanto desiderassi farlo cadere dalla scopa!”

Theo seemed to talk himself into a rage, rambling on in Italian as his careful hands brushed over your chin down your arms, inspecting your bruises and cuts. You wouldn't deny that you loved to hear him talk Italian, especially when his quiet voice was brimming with controlled fury. Fiddling with the hem of your jersey, you searched for his eyes but he didn't meet yours. “Theo?” you asked, locking your fingers so he would stop with his inspection. “Don't put Bell in the hospital wing again, yeah?”

Theo glared at you and freed his hand to guide you down onto the bench. “Take off your shirt.” Even though it was a purely practical request, you felt a surge of excitement and nervousness. You froze for a second, then held onto the hem of your jersey and attempted to pull it over your head, but flinched at the pain. Theo helped you, carefully prying it off of you.

Theo’s hands froze the moment the jersey slipped over your head, leaving your skin bare save for the bruises blooming across your ribs and shoulders. His usual sharp retorts or smirking comments were conspicuously absent as his eyes lingered, first on the angry purple marks and then, almost hesitantly, on the soft curve of your body.

He swallowed hard, his fingers brushing your arm lightly as if unsure where to look or how to act. “You’re… very hurt,” he murmured finally, his voice quieter than you’d ever heard it, but there was a flicker of something else -something unspoken- flickering in his gaze before he quickly turned his attention back to the task at hand. He reached for the murtlap serum, grabbing the air at first attempt before pulling himself together and seizing the bottle and a cloth.

No words were exchanged as he started tending to your bruises, first the large one on your midriff that was the color of an angry red. When his soft fingers, dapped in murtlap essence, touched your skin, you took a sharp inhale and breathed rapidly. Theo could have smothered himself for the lingering of his eyes on your chest. He attempted to keep his focus on you and started treating the bruise.

You felt the relief of pain in an instant and sighed. “Thanks, Theo.” A light grunt was all you got in response, but the tender care of his fingers was answer enough. Though the murtlap was cool, his his touch left you uncomfortably warm and you tried not to squirm under his deft fingers.

The topic of intimacy was still a shy topic in your relationship. You knew his prior liaisons had been primarily sexual. Thus, you avoided the topic, seeing as your experience was almost none next to his. In any of your relationships, you had never gone beyond kissing and making out, and didn't know wether Theo even knew you were a virgin, let alone wether he’d want to have sex with you after hearing it. Theo had never initiated anything either, seeming perfectly content with your relationship as it was. But you couldn't deny the occasional hunger, the daydreams, the not so innocent thoughts.

Theo’s voice caught your attention. His brows were furrowed as he worked on your scratches from the fall. “Should’ve kept looking out for bludgers, cara. Stupid gryffindor recklessness.” When you recognized the worry in his voice, you smiled and ran a hand through his damp hair. “I’ll make sure to do that.” He seemed content and locked your fingers. “Shirt goes on again, tesoro.”

The itching when you pulled your shirt over your head was nothing compared to the pain from before. As your eyes appeared over your collar once more, you saw Theo had stood up and was putting the murtlap essence back to its place of origin with a lot more fuzz than the task required. Maybe it was just your imagination playing tricks on you, but he seemed to avert his eyes and avoided to look at you.

Before you could contemplate this, Theo had turned around once more and handed you your cloak. “We should get back to our teams before our absence is noticed.” You would have liked to say something to diffuse the light hint of bitterness in his voice, but Theo gave you a calming smile and was out of the door in an instant. Still, the rain brewed up a symphony on the roof of the changing rooms, but your own thoughts sounded too loud for you to notice.

The Gryffindor common room was a cacophony of sound and color, the flickering firelight mingling with enchanted banners that decked the walls in red and gold. Laughter and cheers echoed from every corner, the victorious chants of your teammates nearly drowning out the music. The smell of butterbeer wafted through the room, mixing with the damp, earthy scent of post-match rain that still clung to everyone’s robes.

You smiled faintly as Seamus led an exaggerated reenactment of the game on a table, nearly knocking over a platter of snacks, but the sheer noise of it all pressed against your temples, leaving you torn between wanting to join the celebration and retreating to somewhere quiet. When Seamus started pulling out fireworks, you slipped out of the room through the portrait hole for a quick withdrawal.

Knowing that some of the others, including your friends, had sneaked down to the kitchens to supply the party with more butterbeer and snacks, you took the path down to the dungeons. Though you tread lightly to avoid detection by Filch or Mrs Norris, the sound of your footsteps echoed of the walls as you hurried down the stairs. It was wonderfully quiet, a stark contrast to the hustle and bustle of the Griffindor common room, and you relished in the fresh, cool air that turned more moist the deeper you went.

Just as you were about to turn around a corner, you collided with a hard chest. Your prior speed made you stumble and you fell, closing your eyes and shielding yourself for the impact. It didn't come. Opening your eyes, your were met with the infamous raised eyebrow of Theodore Nott, hovering only inches above you. You could be slapped yourself for the breathless “Hi” that escaped you, but it made his lips curl with cold amusement. “Hello, tesoro, where are you off to in such a haste?”

“Kitchens,” you said sheepishly as he pulled you back up and steadied you on your feet. Theo threw a quick glance around the corridor before he slipped his hands into his pockets and switched to a more relaxed stand. Under his heavy gaze, you played with your fingers, trying not to think about the way he had been looking at you in the changing rooms “I forgot to tell you before, you played good,” Theo complimented you softly.

“Thanks,” you smiled. It was a weird situation. Usually, the two of you only talked like this in secret corridors, abandoned classrooms, locked broom cupboards or the astronomy tower, not out in the open. But it was night, and you supposed it was fine. And even if… You had been contemplating it ever since your argument yesterday. Would it be the end of the world if you just talked to Harry and the others about it? Even if they disapproved, you didn't want Theo to feel like an accessory, and sneaking around was not as fun as you thought.

Theo seemed to sense your thoughts had wandered off elsewhere and stepped towards you until your chests almost touched. When he flicked your forehead, you flinched and swatted his hand away. “Hey!”

“What are you thinking about?” Theo asked in a soft but demanding tone. You sighed. “Nothing.” But Theo was not thrown off the scent so easily. Deliberate hands wandered to your hips as he prepared for the attack, but you were faster. You gripped the collar of his shirt, pulled him down by it and kissed him.

The reaction was immediate. You were pulled flush against his body, his hands roamed under your shirt to your bare back making you shudder. “Jeez, Nott, your hands are ice cold,” you mumbled between kisses, but Theo pushed you back against the wall and seized your lips, swallowing every sound, every whimper that fell from them eagerly. You noticed that he avoided your bruised spots as his hands trailed over your bare skin and couldn't help the rush of affection that surged through you at his care.

“Someone could see us,” Theo muttered into the kiss, but you merely whimpered needily and buried your hands in his soft curls. “Then they see us.” The answer seemed to spur him on. It was as if it had awakened some primal part of him, tucked away behind his usual composure. The kiss turned messy as your lips clashed into each other without the usual rhyme and reason. When your eyes met his for a split second, you saw the dark hunger swirling inside them and breathed in shakily. It only seemed to spur him on even more as his head dipped back down and you felt his thigh coming up between your legs, eliciting a pathetic little whimper from you.

“What the bloody hell is going on here?”

Theo and you surged apart, or rather, you scrambled away and he made sure you didn't trip and fall in your haste to put some space between the two of you. Harry, Ron and Hermoine, as well as some other embarrassed looking griffindors, stood a few feet away from you, having just rounded the corner. Their arms were full of pastries, snacks and bottles of butterbeer and lemonade, safe for Harry's, who seemed to have dropped his load at the sight of you and Theo.

“What's it look like I'm doing?” you asked, chest heaving and hair probably a mess. Glancing at Theo, you saw he had leaned against the wall, watching Harry with sharp eyes. The message was clear. He left it up to you to resolve this, but the second Harry stepped over the line, he was a goner.

Your brother shook his head wildly, as if he couldn't believe what was happening and planned to shake the image out of his memory. He called your name incensedly. “Tell me I didn't just see you snogging Theodore Nott in the dungeons.”

With a quick glance at Theo, you decided it was all in. “Would you rather have me snog him in the astronomy tower?” you asked, a hint of sass creeping into your tone. “Because that's what I've been doing for the last months.” Ron and Hermoine looked at each other incredulously, but Harry looked straight up furious as he kicked the pastries aside to step closer to you. When you saw the look in his eyes and caught Theo's slight movement in the corner of your eye, you suddenly began to worry about an altercation between the two. An altercation that, with all your love for him, Harry had no chances of winning.

Harry had caught Theo’s movement as well and turned to him abruptly. “If you think I’m going to stand by and let this happen, you’ve got another thing coming.” You could've kissed Theo for remaining where he stood without blinking, leaving it up to you to resolve this. “Look, Harry,” you tried the diplomatical route. “Would you just listen to m-”

“Do you even know who he is? What he stands for?” Harry cut you off. You were hit with the sudden realization that the footsteps of multiple people were drawing closer, and indeed, a group of Slytherins that had been awoken by the sudden noise appeared in the hallway next to you, watching the conflict with great interest. “I know perfectly well-” you tried to answer but again, Harry didn't let you finish. “His father is a death eater! What, does that excite you?”

“Excuse me?” you hissed and saw Theo shift slightly. “Are you even listening to yourself right now, Harry?” But he probably wasn't. Your brother looked just about ready to tear down walls and you began to doubt wether you could even reason with him about this. “That's a horrible thing to say,” you shot back, folding your arms over your chest. “And Theo’s not his father.”

“Theo? Oh yes?” Harry said angrily, ignoring Hermoine tugging at his robes in an effort to calm him down. “He's just as bad as the rest of them, I don't know how you could be this naive!”

“Is it impossible for you to even entertain the possibility that I can look out for myself?” You hadn't realized you were shouting now as well. “Would you, just for one second, consider that I have a mind and a life of my own? That I can be trusted to make decisions in my life without you chiming in and questioning them?” Your breathing was labored and you tried to calm down, lowering your voice. “Why can't you accept that this was my choice, and it's a valid one? Why would you think you know Theo better than me? Do you think I can't trust my judgement, that I'm just a love-sick, hysterical, stupid schoolgirl who can't descipher reality and delusion?”

“Maybe you are!” Harry bellowed and you flinched, a sudden wave of hurt crashing down on you.

“You say that again,” a voice, soft and eerily composed, said, “and you’ll regret it.” The words hung gravely in the air as everyone, including the groups of Griffindors and Slytherins, stared at Theo, stunned by the both deliberate and utterly terrifying tone of his voice. But the speechlessness didn't last long.

“After everything we’ve been through,” Harry hissed at you, hurt brimming in his eyes, “this is how you repay me? By sneaking around with him?” His fists were clenched at his sides and he paid no attention to Hermoine's pleas to just leave.

“This isnt about you,” you breathed, aghast at his nerve, “This is about me. For once, this is just about me! God, Harry, why are you being so self-centered? This has nothing to do with you!”

“It has everything to do with me!” Harry shouted, stepping even closer. “I just don't get how you could be so stupid! You think he cares about you? He’s a Slytherin- he’s probably using you!” His words were hurtful and they stung worse than the bruises from earlier, but Harry wasn't done yet. “What happens when he gets bored of you? Have you thought about that? If you think Theodore Nott is interested in you, you’re even more naive than I thought.”

You knew he didn't mean it that way. But it still hurt you. This assumption that Theo could never like you for you, could never be interested in you apart from the fact that you were Harry Potter’s sister. That there was nothing about you that made you special, or lovable. That you had no idea what you were doing and no agency of your own. Just a stupid little girl fooling around with something she didn't understand. He was wrong. You told it to yourself over and over in your head as you stared at him silently, watching his anger shift into something else. He was wrong, Theo liked you. Right? But what did he like about you? What was there about you?

You hadn't realized you were crying, you only registered it when Theo himself stepped forward. Apart from the most threatening death glare you had ever seen from him, he didn't attack Harry. His attention was fixed on you, as if he was waiting for your command. But you could only stand there, under the eyes of your classmates, as tears ran down your face.

Harry seemed to realize now what he had said and took a step forward, but you took one back and let out a dry laugh. No words came out. Even if you had some to shoot back, defend Theo or stand up for yourself, they wouldn't have made it past the lump in your throat. Swallowing hard, you took another step back, then another, and before you knew it, you were fleeing up the stairs, ignoring the shouts behind you. You didn't know wether they were directed at you, or Harry, or Theo. You only wanted to get away.

taglist: @annaisabookworm @empath-bunny @k0z3me @slutfordpr @aespaslut @kiarst @the-oracle-at-delphinitely-not @fakem0net @sammyreid @tulipsc @yasmin-oviedo @lazycrazyme @vratune @mariadvorak

[lqveharrington]

FRED WEASLEY AND ALL TOO WELL😭🫶 pleasee

All Too Well | F.W.

summary: your daughter gets curious about all the different parchment you had stored away.

pairing: fred weasley x fem!reader

includes: reader’s last name is Lupin, mainly fluff and angst, kissing, playful teasing, pregnancy, death, crying (this fic is practically as long as the song)

a/n: first fic of the 2k celebration! also, i cried everytime i came back to write this 😭 i miss him so much (rules for celebration here!)

It had been exactly eleven years since your beautiful baby girl Charlotte was born, Molly and Arthur Weasley's first grandchild. Born a pureblood, she would be going to Hogwarts this September and you couldn't be more proud. From all the stories Charlotte heard about your time at Hogwarts, she knew she would have the time of her life. Especially since all the stories were about you, her father, and her uncles. You would tell her all the stories of how the twins and Lee would set up pranks only to be scolded by McGonagall. Sometimes you had to scold them too.

You missed the days where you had no care in life except for your studies. You missed spending every single day with your favorite people and seeing them everyday. You missed everything Hogwarts had to offer before the war began.

But even after all the chaos it brought, your sweet girl was born. The only righteous matter to come out of the war.

"Mum, what's that?" Charlotte sat beside you on the couch and perched her head on your shoulder as she looked inside the box you brought out, beautiful red hair draping over your body.

Her gaze was drawn to the different sized parchment, each one having different drawings and dates. Charlotte picked one up and read the name, eyes widening at the signatures signed at the bottom. They were her father's and there were so many of them. "Whoa."

"What're you doing, creeper?" You laugh softly and pull her to sit in front of you, kissing the top of her head when she put the note back inside the box.

"What are all of those?” She gestured to the box and looked at you with curious eyes, fingers moving to touch the gold ring around your left hand; A habit she picked up from you whenever you felt the need to fidget. “Did dad send you all of those?”

You nod and clasp your hand around hers, feeling her pulse. "Yeah, he uhm,” You cleared your throat and blinked fast, ridding yourself of the tears that wanted to spill over. "He would write me one from the day we met until he… Your dad would even write me notes when I was just sitting next to him in class."

You pursed your lips and looked down, mind going through years and years of memories. Every time you received a new note, you wrote down the date to keep track of how long he had been doing it.

"There's so many..." Charlotte looked in awe and made out some of the dates, many of them dating back to when you were eleven. “He must have loved you a lot, mum. Especially since you kept all of them.”

You let out a chuckle, your hand reaching up to hold the gold ring adorning your necklace, thumb feeling the lettering inside. “Well, your dad was head over heels for me, Char.” You watched her pick up different parchment and smiled softly at how intrigued she was.

“Here, pick a couple and I'll tell you the stories behind them.” You hand her the box and watch her eyes light up before closing them and plucking out five pieces of parchment, handing them to you with glee.

Charlotte folded her arms over her knees, cheek resting against her arm. She watched your eyes water again at the notes she picked, making her bite her bottom lip. She didn’t want you to cry. She hated seeing you cry. Especially when it was over her father.

“Do you…” She started and met your eyes again, giving you a small smile in hopes of getting you to smile again. “Do you remember how you got all of them?”

"Of course, I do." You sent her a short grin and tucked pieces of her hair behind her ear, her brown eyes and red hair oh-so familiar to you. "I remember it all too well."

10/09/1993

“Weasley, you’re late to your own date.” You wave the parchment in his face and bite back a smile when he rolls his eyes and takes the note from you. “You said to meet you in the courtyard at exactly 3PM.”

Everyone had already left for Hogsmeade and you were left standing in the courtyard with the handmade scarf Mrs. Weasley made for you, the wind blowing it around. You weren’t actually upset with Fred, this happened more than once already, but he had time to serve with Filch whenever he pulled a stunt worse than usual.

“No, it says 3:30PM.” He tapped his wand on the parchment and sent you a lopsided grin, this time making you roll your eyes. “You look, Lupin.”

You took the note from his hands and read it out loud, giving him an exasperated look. He pulled you close by the waist, tilting his head down to meet your eyes. He loved the height difference you had with him, being a whole head shorter than him gave him lots of pun material.

“Wow, it says 3:30PM all of a sudden.” You tuck the parchment into your pocket and strain your neck to look at him. He still wore that smile you loved, making you push up on your toes to kiss him properly.

He grinned into the kiss and pressed his lips against yours multiple times until he was satisfied, adjusting the scarf you wore when he separated from you. You sigh softly and push locks of his red hair away from his eyes, meeting the beautiful brown eyes that you adored.

“Now did you actually leave on time? Or did you leave when Filch wasn’t looking?” You question him as you began the descent away from Hogwarts, careful to walk around the rocky terrain.

“I’m offended! Who do you think I am?” Fred laced his hand with yours and guided you safely around the trail to Hogsmeade, looking over yours clothes to insure you were dressed properly for the fall weather in Scotland. “Of course I left when Filch wasn’t looking.”

You smack his chest with the back of your hand and shake your head, not even a little surprised with the stunt he pulled. “Frederick Gideon Weasley.”

“What? I promised a date to the prettiest girl at Hogwarts.” He squeezed your hand before pulling you closer to him, looking around the area in confusion. “Speaking off, have you seen here? We were supposed to meet up at 3PM back at the courtyard.”

“I knew we were supposed to meet up a three, you prat!” You exclaim and smack him once more, making him laugh. He crookedly smiled, loving how you completely ignored his short jab to defend yourself about the right time you were supposed to meet.

Fred leaned down and pressed another kiss to your lips, effectively shutting you up. You let out a small noise before indulging him, placing a hand on his cheek before pulling away.

“That’s not fair.” You whisper to him, lips grazing his when you spoke. You peered down at his lips before back up to his eyes, smiling when you knew you got caught.

“Nothing’s ever fair, Lupin.” He murmured and smiled back at you, thumb softly tracing his initials into your covered hip.

You felt so much love from Fred — although it did take you years to finally agree to go on a date with him. Maybe it was to spite your dad when he began teaching at Hogwarts, but you truly loved Fred. You had known his family for far too long to ignore the heart that only beats for him.

12/25/1994

“Why is it we learned how to ballroom dance together only to ditch and sneak off to the kitchens?” You ask in a low voice, not wanting to break the calmness that fell over the both of you as you moved further and further away from the bustling Great Hall.

Your hands were laced behind your back as you walked beside Fred, letting the silence overtake after an overstimulating two hours at the Yule Ball. You weren’t even planning to go because you knew your social battery wouldn't be able to handle so many people in one room, but Fred convinced you to go with a simple heart-shaped piece of parchment.

“'Cause you needed a breather. I could see it in your eyes.” He nudged your shoulder gently before slipping his arm around your waist, letting you rest your head on his shoulder; The smell of lemon ginger cookies and firecrackers filling your senses from the suit jacket he wrapped around you earlier.

You smiled softly at his actions as he led you down toward the kitchens. He was everything you never knew you needed and it made your heart swell with so much love. You never wanted to leave his side.

Fred came to the conclusion that the elves loved you a lot more than him when you dismissed them with a bright smile. Whenever he and George visited during the midnight runs, they would always greet them. When you were with him and George, the elves would do anything you asked them to without any hesitation.

While you moved around the space to make a quick snack for the both of you, Fred simply admired you. He admired how beautiful you looked doing such a mundane task or how you would always click your heel whenever you were counting something. He was so in love that watching you just stand and cross your arms when the stove wasn't cooperating made he grin stupidly.

Before he realized what exactly he was doing, you sent him a confused look. "You haven't spoke in like—" You looked over to the wall clock, raising your brows in surprise. "Ten minutes. Are you okay?"

Fred hummed and pulled you to stand in front of him, his hands coming down to rest at the curve of your waist. “Can’t I admire how beautiful you look, Lupin?”

You squint your eyes at him and meet the brown eyes that have been staring at you for quite some time. Although he was bold most times, you saw how raw and genuine his words were.

“I mean, even without trying you just look,” Fred laced his hand with yours and slowly spun you around, breath catching when you faced him once more. He was so enamored with you — no spell was strong enough to break the enchantment. "Absolutely stunning."

You try hiding a smile that made its way onto your face, only settling into it when he moved to kiss your neck. You grasp the back of his shoulders and sigh softly, shutting your eyes briefly before he parted and smirked at your breathless look.

"I wanna marry you." Fred murmurs and thumbs your bottom lip, catching you give him your golden smile. "The only thing I want to do before I die is marry you."

You hum and rest your hands on his chest, fingers playing with his lapels. You wanted nothing more to marry the man in front of you. Every little thing he did was like painting a perfect picture, and you wanted to frame it forever and ever. He would be the only oath you were willing to take.

“Let’s dance for a little while.” He suggested as the muffled music coming from the Great Hall wandered into the kitchens, a slow song coming on at a perfect time. “There’s music and the candle light by the fridge.”

“Just us?" You ask almost like you needed the reassurance, watching him bow and take your hand like any waltz started. He clasped his hand with yours and began to take the calculated steps he learned only a few weeks ago.

“Just us.” He reassured you and snuck a kiss to your lips, earning an eye roll and lopsided grin.

Yeah, this was it for the both of you.

05/26/1996

Fred knew that you would be upset if you found out that him and George were planning on leaving Hogwarts without graduating. Especially since you were so keen on helping the both of them study for their N.E.W.T.S. He knew you wanted to graduate with him by your side, but what good would graduating from Hogwarts be if he and George had a plan that could be set in motion right now?

He was going to tell you a couple weeks ago, but you got so busy with studying for N.E.W.T.S. and ensuring you would get 'outstanding' in all subjects. So he decided to wait. Well, until you found the note he was planning to give you.

You were absolutely heartbroken. The entire day you wanted nothing to do with him, even sitting beside Angelina during potions just to avoid him. But he eventually found you sitting at the top of the astronomy tower, head resting on your knees and fingers playing with the gold necklace he got you the year before.

Guilt was eating Fred up from the inside out. Starting with his heart.

“Are you really leaving without graduating?” You murmured when you felt his body heat approach you, head still staring forward toward the forbidden forest.

Fred sighed and sat beside you, running his fingers through his hair. “The system isn’t working for us right now and—" Then he heard the sound that absolutely crushed him. He heard the hiccup that would soon become sobbing. "Lovey, what’s wrong?”

You were quick to bury your head in your arms. You knew Fred could read you like a book and anything you did now would trigger his different responses. When you sniffled, you knew it was game over.

“Okay, lovey, you're crying.” He pulled you around so that you were sitting in front of him and gently moved your arms away from your face, his own face falling at the way you look at him.

Your eyes were wet with tears, your lip was quivering, and it pained him to know he caused it. You wanted to tell him it wasn't his fault, but if you tried to speak, you would completely fall apart. Everything was stressing you out and the note just pushed you over the edge.

“You know I'll be at the station when you get back.” Fred murmured and tucked your hair behind your ears, listening to your uneven breaths. "I won't leave you forever."

You hiccup and turn your head, biting your bottom lip to help stabilize yourself. "I-I just thought we would have more t-time together before everything got s-so serious outside of Hogwarts."

Fred tilted his head and tried his best to meet your eyes, "But you know that's not the case, lovey. You'll be living with Georgie and I, and you know were aren't exactly the most serious people."

You let out a wet laugh and look down, fingers coming up to play with the infinity symbol on you necklace. Fred smiled softly at your laugh. At least he knew you weren't too terribly upset over the predicament.

“If I do w-well on my N.E.W.T.S, I'll be t-training full time as a h-healer.” You hiccup and trace the symbol over itself, still trying to calm down as best as you could. “And I know you two will run your business together most of the time. So I don't—”

“Lovey, look at me." Fred pleaded and lightly cupped your cheek, tilting your head so he could face you properly. "Nothing will ever come between you and me. You were in my past, currently living in my present, and you are indefinitely my future. You are my everything and I refuse to leave this spot until you give me that golden smile I love."

Your laugh softly and give him that golden smile, "I love you, Fred Weasley."

08/14/1997

Fred proposed to you a couple of months ago. It wasn’t anything too extravagant or crazy, but you definitely cried like a baby when he got down on one knee and revealed a gorgeous gold ring you swore cost more than how much the twins made a month. Flash forward, you were having a wedding at the Burrow surrounded by family and loved ones.

After vows were said and the most passionate kiss was exchanged, you and Fred were immediately separated. He was pulled to talk to family he didn't even know were family while you were stuck plastering a fake smile to Sirius and Remus who kept going on and on about how happy they were for you.

Eventually the both of you were able to get away, running away from your own reception like you would if you were still in Hogwarts. You laughed as you both made it to the edge of the forest, resting your head on his shoulder. Although you were both only nineteen, you knew that this would be forever.

“Do you think they'll realize the bride and groom are missing from their own wedding?” You let your laughter subside and following him wherever he was guiding you. Was it such a good idea to follow him blindly? Not really, but you trusted Fred. "Where are we going?"

“You’ll see.” He moved a hand to cover your eyes and helped you maneuver through the foliage.

It felt like an hour of just walking and constantly trying to peek through his hands until he stopped abruptly, causing you to stumble over your own heeled feet. He helped stabilize you before removing his hand, letting you look at the sight in front of you.

“Tada!”

The sight was drop dead gorgeous. Almost every single note he had ever wrote to you was floating around a cleared part of the forest, small wisps of light acting as your guide to each and every date. Your eyes were filled with tears as you went up to one of the earliest notes, the date going back to the first week of your first year at Hogwarts.

“When did you ever have the time to do this?” You murmured and looked around, hand coming up to play with your golden necklace, the same one he got you forever ago.

“I have six siblings, I can get them to do my bidding.” Fred shrugged and flicked his wand, the song from the Yule Ball playing in the background. From where you would never know. “Shall we dance, Mrs. Weasley?”

"We shall." You smile brightly and clasp your hands in his, letting him guide you through the same waltz. You squealed when he spun you around and fell into his arms, both of your gold rings flashing from the light. The rings that were a promise of love and happiness.

“Thank you.” You look up at him with so much love and sigh. He was now yours forever, bound by the vows you cried to.

He looked between your eyes and tilted his head, "For what, lovey?"

"Just for being yourself. Everything that you do is just..." You find no other way to express what the feeling was, racking your brain for a word but unable to fine the proper wording. You push up on your toes and kiss him silly, pulling away just as fast. "That's what it feels like."

Fred felt warmth coat his cheeks and neck, lowering his head so he was mere millimeters away from your face. “You love me.”

“I love you, yes.” You look down at his lips before looking back up to the brown eyes you fell in love with so many years ago. "That's why I married you, dummy."

"Good thing you did too, your dad was going to kill me if I just wasted all your time. You know how hard it was to convince your dad I actually love you?" Fred complained as he dipped you, smirking when you gasped at the sudden movement. He pressed a quick kiss to your lips before pulling you back up.

You furrow your brow before breaking out in laughter as you remember the memories of him trying to get the Remus Lupin to like him. “He’s not that hard to charm, Fred!”

“Considering it took me months to even get him on board of the idea of you marrying me, I don’t believe it.” Fred kept you close, swaying to the music that was now coming to an end.

“Whatever.” You press a kiss to his jaw. “I love you either way.”

04/25/1998

The entire day you've been a wreck. The note you held in your hands felt like a weight, and you wanted to toss it to Fred as fast as possible. Your nerves were killing you, slowly making you twitchy at every movement. You weren't sure how Fred would react to the news, but when you found out, you threw up. Well, you weren't sure if that was because you were scared or if it was morning sickness.

“Georgie, has Fred gone on break yet?” You wander down into the store and pick at your nails, narrowly avoiding two kids chasing each other throughout the store.

“Ah, not yet. He’s dealing with a particularly tough customer. I’ll send him up for you once he’s done though.” George sent you a sympathetic smile and flicked his wand, watching the stairs turn to help the kids return back to their parents.

His smile soon fell into a frown when he noticed how sick you were looking. He knew that you were pregnant, but it was well past the morning and you were sitting upstairs merely working on papers.

“What’s wrong?” He asked and put an arm around your shoulder, guiding you away from the crowds so there were no stragglers to listen in on the conversation.

You purse your lips and spin the golden ring adorning your left hand, head reeling at the thought of telling Fred about the pregnancy. “I’m telling him today.”

“Oo, yeah. Can’t wait to see the look on that wanker’s face.” George chuckled and earned a punch to the arm from you, causing him to recoil and glare.

“Hey!” You scold and place a hand over the lower half of your stomach. “You can’t say that anymore, there’s a child present!”

“Aw, you’re no fun anymore now that you’re married and becoming a mother.” George stuck his tongue out at you before sending you a reassuring smile and giving you a thumbs up. “Congratulations, you can do it."

You nodded and made your way back up to the flat above the store, pacing back and forth from the living room to the kitchen. The nerves were getting worse. The note soon became overly crinkled and you swore your socks were getting tarnished by how many times you frustratedly spun around on your heel.

By the time you thought your nerves were finally settling, Fred walked in with the smile you loved. Your emotions sky rocketed and you ran into his arms, burying your head in his neck while he supported you up by the back of your thighs.

"Did you miss me already?" He chuckled and pressed a kiss to your cheek, earning a quiet 'yes' from you. "Aw, lovey."

After a few seconds of practically gluing yourself to him, you finally pulled away and pressed a proper kiss to his lips. He smiled and thumbed the skin available to him. You hum and direct him toward the couch, pulling away only to giggle when he chased your lips. He sent you a joking pout, ready to protest when you shoved the note into his hands.

"What is this?" He unfolded the paper and stared at you with so much love you felt a cavity coming in. "Turning the tables on me? I— Fucking hell."

"Fred!" You smacked his chest before meeting his brown eyes, unsure of the emotion behind them. "So?"

"So what?" His grinned and tackled you onto the couch, peppering your face in kisses. "You're pregnant! I'll be a father!"

You laugh at the feeling of his kisses, "You're not mad?"

"Godric, how could I be mad at you? You're having my child!" Fred kissed you senselessly, free hand coming down to rest on your stomach. "We're going to be parents!"

"We're going to be parents." You say to him and cup his face, letting your stored tears free fall from joy. "You and me."

"Just us." Fred wiped away your tears and sighed, resting his forehead on yours. "Us and the little one."

05/02/1998

You promised Fred you would stay home today. You promised him. But he never promised he would return home to you, causing you to rush over to the Hogwarts as soon as possible. When you arrived, the war was already won, but you didn't care. You wanted to see your husband.

“Where is he?” You ask the first person you find, sighing in relief when you see the youngest Weasley. You excused yourself and ran over to her, grasping Ginny’s arm before seeing her solemn expression, making you internally panic. “Ginny, where is your brother?”

Although you never specified, she knew exactly who you were asking for. She bit her lip and pointed to where George was kneeling, burying her head in your shoulder. You felt your heart constrict as you held her closely, breath catching at the sight in front of you. Molly was wiping her own tears when she saw you, pulling her daughter away from you so you could see Fred yourself.

“No no no no no no.” You fall to your knees and catch your breath, looking at Fred through wet eyes. A sob threatened to escape your throat when you felt for his hand, the warmth of his hand now gone and replaced with cold. You choked on tears and let yourself cry, hiding your face in his shoulder.

You begged the universe for this to be a horrible joke that everyone was in on. That Fred was okay and well, only pretending to be dead.

"Freddie, please." You cry and clutch his hand tighter, feeling for the gold band that represented your everlasting love. "I need you to wake up, Weasley. I-I can't do this without you. How am I s-supposed to—" You choked on your words, sobbing once more. You couldn't even finish your sentences.

When you felt a pair of arms pull you away from Fred, reality hit you like a train wreck. You stumbled over your feet as you stared at his dead body. Fred Weasley was really gone.

"What happened?" You whisper and stare at Fred, tears still falling. You felt so helpless. You were a healer and there was nothing you could do. When no one answered you, you whipped around and stared at whoever carried you away, another sob threatening to spill over when you saw George. "What happened, George?"

“There was an explosion.” He whispered and pulled you into a hug, letting you cry for a second. He had his last moment with Fred, but you hadn't seen him in hours.

You sobbed and collapsed in his arms, cries ringing out into the Great Hall. The pain you felt was nothing like you ever experienced before. You did everything you could do try and deny it, but no matter what you thought of, the sight of his dead body seemed to appear.

“George, why are we at Hogwarts?” You huff and follow him into a restricted room.

You weren't even supposed to be at Hogwarts and somehow you were standing on the very grounds your heart shattered. Your daughter just started a few weeks ago, but George somehow convinced you to return and dragged you to a room you've never seen before.

George glanced down at you, noticing your distant gaze, like you weren't safe inside the building anymore. “Have you been to Hogwarts since the war?”

“No.” You purse your lips and push the thought of the war away, brows creasing when you see how clean and furbished the room was. “Why? I need to get going soon. My shift—"

“Just look.” He pointed toward one side of the room, revealing the little contents of the room.

You frowned when you looked over. There was nothing of interest. “I can see the Mirror of Erised and a covered portrait.”

“Pull the bloody cover off.” George rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, shaking his head when you stuck your tongue out at him.

“Okay, but I’m not looking at the mirror.” You sighed and covered your eyes when passing the mirror. When you stood in front of the portrait, you pulled the cover off and gave George an annoyed smile. “I don’t understand—" When he gestured for you to look back over, you rolled your eyes before gasping, dropping the cloth without realizing a piece of parchment was attached to the front of it. "Oh my, Fred Weasley.”

“Hi, lovey.” Fred winked at you, wearing that smirk you haven't seen in years. When he saw tears falling from your face, he frowned and seemingly reached out to you. “Why are you crying? Did George upset you?”

“No, in fact he made me happy.” You spoke through tears and wiped your tears, smiling sadly. “I get to see you again.”

Fred grinned again and clapped his hands. “It’s been forever since I saw you last, Lupin. Where were you?”

You furrow your brows and look at George in confusion. “Does he—?” George shook his head and handed you the parchment that fell. You quickly peeled it open and wiped your tears once more as you read the contents. "He made it for a prank he never committed to." You huff and shake your head before responding to Fred. “I’ve been out and about, Weasley.”

He tilted his head and scanned your figure up and down, confusion written all over his face. “It seems as if we have a predicament here.”

“And what is that?” You murmur and step closer to the portrait, not realizing George had left you alone to have a moment with Fred.

“I want to hug you, but the best I can do is talk.” Fred sent you a lopsided grin and blew a kiss at you, making you laugh.

“Seems like a big problem.” You nod in agreement and sigh, wrapping your arms around your midsection. “I’ll understand what you mean.”

“In that case, I’m giving you the biggest hug right now.” Fred spread his arms wide and pretended to give you a hug before his eyes caught the gold ring around your left hand. “Where’d you get the ring, lovey?”

“Uhm…” You look down and spin the ring, smiling down at the piece of jewelry. “I got it from you a bit ago.”

Fred beamed in joy before he flattened again, looking around like he could see past the frame. “Where am I?”

“Home.” You muster a smile and wipe a tear that managed to escape, hands shaking. “You’re at home with your mum and dad. Don’t worry though, they wanted to actually hang out with you.”

Fred scoffed and shook his head, “Still rude as ever, Lupin.”

“Not as bad as you, Weasley.” You laugh softly and hold back anymore tears, hands finding Fred’s adjacent ring hanging around your neck. “I miss you.”

“I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[rainydayathogwarts]

The Chosen one - Ron Weasley

summary: harry may be the chosen one, but he wasn't the one you chose. (lowkey creep!harry) wc: 1.3k

When Ron had first noticed Harry’s lingering gaze following you whenever you appeared he only rolled his yes; you were yet another girl he would have to hear Harry constantly ranting about. He was sick of the boy's tendency to play around with girls' feelings, yet never stop talking about them. The first couple of weeks, neither you or Harry had spoken a word to each other. Harry stared, couldn’t speak to you when you were around, a blush overtaking his features. Ron, leaning his chin on his hand, tried not to make snarky remarks at his friend about his painfully obvious crush on you. You, on the other hand, didn’t seem to know the boy existed. However as time went on, it became glaringly evident that you weren't just another crush because Harry was silent about you and hadn't tried speaking to you as the month went by.

If Harry wanted you, he should’ve just made his move because it seemed that the chosen one got everything he ever wanted. Ron lived in Harry’s shadow, and it was getting harder to be the supportive best friend day by day, his jealousy stirring inside him like a beast ready to be unleashed. So about a month after Harry’s feelings for you began developing, when you approached the pair with your friend, offering to work as a group in Potions class, the last thing Ron expected was for you to turn your attention to him rather than his best friend.

“I think Ron should crush the griffin claws.” you started, eyes glinting with something more than friendly kindness when you turned to face him. “You’ve definitely got the muscles for it.” Ron felt his pale skin heat up with a pink flush, and he ducked his head in embarrassment, feeling Harry’s stare on the side of his neck. Ron took the compliment with a chuckle, exchanging conversation with you throughout the lesson, your friend making comments every now and then while Harry hadn’t uttered a single word, his gaze trained on you laughing with his best friend. The ginger walked out of lesson with a newfound confidence in his stride, chest puffed out with a sense of security, feelings for you immediately blossoming. “She’s absolutely amazing, isn’t she?” He’d told Harry, and only then did he notice his best friend jealously fuming next to him. Harry hummed, clutching his book bag so hard his knuckles turned white.

Ron gulped, a dilemma forming in his mind. It was obvious his best friend had feelings for you, however he had never said a word about you to him, and Ron fully understood where Harry was coming from, a crush of his own moulding. Ron could make his move on you, playing the clueless friend and pretending not to know about his best friend’s painful crush on you. He'd return the flirting, see where things went with you. Maybe it was time for Harry to know what it was like wanting things the person closest to him had.

When you'd finally asked Ron out, a hopeful smile on your face while you looked up at him, Harry had immediately left the common room to go sulk in his dorm, within the comfort of his four poster bed. Successful date after the other, Ron was proudly able to call you his girlfriend, and soon enough, you hit the three month mark. Sat on Ron's lap in the cozy window nook of his dorm, you told him about your day, and the unfortunate detention Snape give you, one hand playing with your boyfriend's fiery hair. Ron hummed along where appropriate, adding comments whenever you paused shortly, hand on your thigh, settled just under your skirt, the other resting on your hip. He listened to every word you said, but more importantly, he focused on Harry's gaze stuck on your figure from where he hid in the confines of his bed, Charms textbook uselessly open on his lap.

Where Ron had a girl, Harry had his textbook. The thought made Ron smile.

Finally finishing your story, you pressed your soft lips against Ron's, feeling his smile through the kiss. "I love you." You whispered, finally pulling away from him. Ron's eyes shot open in shock, a wide grin gracing his features "What was that?" He teased, wanting to hear the words escape your lips once more, lightly tickling your sides. You squealed, jerking away from him only to repeat, much louder this time "I love you, you dork!" Ron laughed in joy, arms wrapping around your waist whilst you threw yours over his shoulder, squeezing him closer to you to peck his lips. You readjusted yourself on his lap to straddle him, tucking your head in the crook of his neck and shutting your eyes in satisfaction when you hear him murmur to you "I love you too."

Harry’s face flushed as blood rushed to his face in a mix of anger and envy. He knew he should have told you how he felt when he realised he liked you. And now, he had to look at you melt your body against his best friend’s, yelling about your love from the roof tops. Harry watched with resentment as Ron’s hands trailed down your body, and how you continued pressing teasing kisses against his lips. He had enough. “Get a room!” He exclaimed, pulling the curtains of his four-poster bed shut.

“Sorry Harry.” He heard you mutter with embarrassment. Your and Ron’s footsteps were loud on the wooden floor as you crossed the bedroom, pulling the door shut behind you as you made your escape. You were probably headed to your dorm. Your dorm, which would probably be empty, and leave you and Ron the freedom to do anything you wanted to. Harry shut his eyes tightly. He hadn’t meant to shoo you both out of the room, especially not you. He just didn’t want to see you and Ron together.

Harry shut his charms textbook, tossing it to the side and getting out of bed. He glanced around the room, gaze finally landing on Ron’s bed. Shit. He approached his best friend’s bed, falling to his knees once he was in front of his side table. He pulled the top drawer open, attention immediately caught by the polaroid at the top of the drawer. It seemed like a trap. Like if Harry took held the photo, the door would swing open and Ron would walk in, an accusing finger pointed at Harry whilst he yelled that he knew that Harry had a crush on you. Harry pushed the polaroid of you and Ron aside. You looked too happy together at the latest party Gryffindor Tower hosted, smiling widely as Ron pressed a kiss to your cheek. No, Harry wasn’t interested in that. What he was interested in was the fourth photo he came across.

The photo was rather… suggestive, if Harry could phrase it that way. The photo cut off just above your shoulders, focused towards your chest, barely covered in a tank top. You were clearly taking the image, because Ron’s hands were too occupied acting as a bra for you, squeezing your tits just enough to push them up slightly. Harry pocketed the image, instantly rushing to the bathroom before pulling his trousers down. He felt bad, but not guilty enough to stop himself from jerking off to the image of his best friend’s girlfriend, and especially not while you were both fucking in your dorm, barely a hundred meters away.

Hours later, when Ron and Harry returned to their dorm after dinner, Ron’s attention was immediately caught by his open drawer. The drawer that he certainly hadn’t opened today. He turned to take a glance at Harry, watching as his best friend crawled into bed without another look back. It didn’t take Ron looking through his drawer to know what had gone missing from it, nor who had taken it.

[theemporium]

humbly requesting sirius and mistletoe (that he very obviously hung up himself) for the celly

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

“On a scale from one to ten, how traditional do you think you are in muggle terms?” 

You blinked, staring at the boy with a confused expression. “What?” 

“It’s a simple question,” Sirius responded, leaning against the bookshelf you were currently scouring in the library, looking so at ease and relaxed. 

“Is this you trying to use me to help you with your Muggle Studies essay again?” You questioned, narrowing your eyes in suspicion.

Sirius rolled his eyes. “It was one time—”

“And I said I would help you if you just asked me normally,” you retorted.

“—and that is not what is happening now,” Sirius added. 

If it were anyone else, you would have believed that they were simply asking you a question. But this was Sirius Black who, for better or for worse, always had another plan up his sleeve. Most of the time, it was ‘for better’ reasons that you found yourself on the other end of one of those plans. 

But that still didn’t ease your nerves at the glint of mischievous shining in his eyes.

“So what is happening now?” You asked, the pile of books in your arms starting to get heavy but before you could even make a move towards the nearest table, Sirius was grabbing your arm and pulling you back to where he was standing. “Hey, what the fuck?” 

“Answer the question,” Sirius said, practically buzzing in his own skin. If you didn’t know any better, you would assume he was excited. But you did know him better. You could see the nerves hidden beneath the mischief and cunningness. 

“I don’t know, like, a six?” you sighed, letting out a small sound of relief when the boy took the books from your arms and placed them down on the floor beside you both. “Sirius—”

“So you know all about the muggle tradition that states you get twenty-seven years bad luck if you don’t kiss under the mistletoe,” Sirius grinned.

Your brows furrowed together. “That is not—” 

But you cut yourself off when you noticed the boy looking upwards. And when you tilted your head back, you found a sprig of mistletoe hanging above you two—or, more like it was floating as if someone had spelled it to hover above you both. 

And you couldn’t help but let out a huff of laughter.

“Tradition is tradition, love,” Sirius beamed, turning his head and patting his cheek. “Wouldn’t want all those years of bad luck.”

“You, Sirius Black, are utterly ridiculous,” you muttered before grabbing his face, turning him back towards you so you could press your lips against his.

“Merry Christmas to me,” Sirius muttered, muffling the giggle you let out with a deeper kiss.

.

[fear-less]

₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 puff was so good please write more with this prompt I am begging bro 😭🙏

₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 froggy meetings

paring: sirius black x f!reader

➥ In which,Sirius Black chases you across the Hogwarts grounds with a frog on your head, only to realize he's fallen for your brilliant chaos.

warnings: reader is a gryffindor (not mentioned but yeah), fluff ofc, whole lotta nonsense, reader is a #yapper, sirius realizing his feelings, reader seems more interested in frogs than sirius lmao

2.2K words 

Sirius Black didn’t think he’d ever be willing Sirius Black never imagined he’d find himself chasing someone through the Hogwarts grounds with a frog perched precariously on their head, but life had a way of surprising him. In fairness, he should have known better the moment you stood in the Gryffindor common room, arms spread wide like a conductor about to lead a symphony, and declared at full volume that the Guardian of Puddles had made an urgent pilgrimage to the Great Lake.

Most of the common room had ignored you, accustomed to your antics, but Sirius—Sirius never ignored you. So, naturally, here he was, trudging after you under the moonlit sky, with James’s laughter fading in the background and a lingering promise to “write this one down for posterity” following his retreat.

“Do you even know where you’re going?” Sirius called out as you darted ahead, your pace set somewhere between a dramatic march and a full-on sprint. He quickened his steps, not quite running but definitely jogging to keep up.

“Do you think the Guardian of Puddles questions where the puddles are?” you shot back over your shoulder, your tone dripping with mock indignation. To emphasize your point, you spun around mid-stride, arms flung out like you were addressing an invisible crowd. The frog atop your head wobbled precariously but stayed put, giving an almost affronted croak at Sirius’s doubt.

Sirius rolled his eyes, but the smirk tugging at his lips betrayed him. “Right. Silly me for doubting the omniscient powers of puddles.”

“Exactly,” you said with a grin, spinning back around to face the path ahead. “Glad to see you’re catching on.”

The two of you continued your peculiar journey across the grounds, the castle shrinking behind you as the sprawling Great Lake came into view. Its surface glimmered like liquid silver under the starlight, the soft rustling of the trees and distant hoots of owls blending into the faint lapping of water against the shore.

You came to an abrupt halt at the lake’s edge, and Sirius had to swerve to avoid barreling straight into you. For a moment, neither of you spoke, your gaze fixed on the vast expanse of water before you. Sirius followed your line of sight, his breath misting faintly in the cool night air.

“Now,” you began, breaking the silence, “this is where the real magic happens. The Guardian of Puddles will commune with the underwater realms, and together, we shall uncover truths that have been hidden from humankind for millennia.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms as he tilted his head to look at you. “Bold claims,” he said, his tone dry but amused. “What kind of truths are we talking about here? Winning lottery numbers? The secret to James finally getting Lily to say yes?”

You ignored him with the flair of someone entirely above such petty questions, crouching low to the ground with a reverence that made Sirius pause. Gently, you lifted the frog from your head, cradling it in your hands like it was a sacred artifact. Your expression softened in a way that caught Sirius off guard, your usual mischief tempered by something quieter, almost tender.

He knelt beside you, his earlier teasing forgotten as he watched you place the frog on a flat rock near the water’s edge. The creature croaked once, then settled, its bulbous eyes fixed on the shimmering lake ahead as if it truly was about to deliver profound wisdom.

Sirius Black never imagined he’d find himself chasing someone through the Hogwarts grounds with a frog perched precariously on their head, but life had a way of surprising him. In fairness, he should have known better the moment you stood in the Gryffindor common room, arms spread wide like a conductor about to lead a symphony, and declared at full volume that the Guardian of Puddles had an urgent pilgrimage to the Great Lake.

Most of the common room had ignored you, accustomed to your antics, but Sirius—Sirius never ignored you. So, naturally, here he was, trudging after you under the moonlit sky, with James’s laughter fading in the background and a lingering promise to “write this one down for posterity” following his retreat.

“Do you even know where you’re going?” Sirius called out as you darted ahead, your pace set somewhere between a dramatic march and a full-on sprint. He quickened his steps, not quite running but definitely jogging to keep up.

“Do you think the Guardian of Puddles questions where the puddles are?” you shot back over your shoulder, your tone dripping with mock indignation. To emphasize your point, you spun around mid-stride, arms flung out like you were addressing an invisible crowd. The frog atop your head wobbled precariously but stayed put, giving an almost affronted croak at Sirius’s doubt.

Sirius rolled his eyes, but the smirk tugging at his lips betrayed him. “Right. Silly me for doubting the omniscient powers of puddles.”

“Exactly,” you said with a grin, spinning back around to face the path ahead. “Glad to see you’re catching on.”

The two of you continued your peculiar journey across the grounds, the castle shrinking behind you as the sprawling Great Lake came into view. Its surface glimmered like liquid silver under the starlight, the soft rustling of the trees and distant hoots of owls blending into the faint lapping of water against the shore.

You came to an abrupt halt at the lake’s edge, and Sirius had to swerve to avoid barreling straight into you. For a moment, neither of you spoke, your gaze fixed on the vast expanse of water before you. Sirius followed your line of sight, his breath misting faintly in the cool night air.

“Now,” you began, breaking the silence, “this is where the real magic happens. The Guardian of Puddles will commune with the underwater realms, and together, we shall uncover truths that have been hidden from humankind for millennia.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms as he tilted his head to look at you. “Bold claims,” he said, his tone dry but amused. “What kind of truths are we talking about here? Winning lottery numbers? The secret to James finally getting Lily to say yes?”

You ignored him with the flair of someone entirely above such petty questions, crouching low to the ground with a reverence that made Sirius pause. Gently, you lifted the frog from your head, cradling it in your hands like it was a sacred artifact. Your expression softened in a way that caught Sirius off guard, your usual mischief tempered by something quieter, almost tender.

He knelt beside you, his earlier teasing forgotten as he watched you place the frog on a flat rock near the water’s edge. The creature croaked once, then settled, its bulbous eyes fixed on the shimmering lake ahead as if it truly was about to deliver profound wisdom.

“What’s it saying?” Sirius asked, his voice dipping into a whisper as though afraid to disturb the moment.

You tilted your head, feigning deep concentration. “Shhh,” you hissed, holding up a hand. “It’s complicated. Frogs speak in riddles.”

“Do they now?” Sirius’s lips quivered into a grin, but he stayed quiet, indulging you.

“Absolutely,” you replied with utmost seriousness. Then, after a dramatic pause, you turned to him, your expression grave. “It says you’re far too cocky for your own good.”

“Does it?” Sirius shot back, his grin widening. “Anything else, or is that the extent of its divine insight?”

You nodded solemnly, gesturing toward the frog as though it had just delivered a revelation of world-altering importance. “It also says you should stop underestimating the power of puddles. They hold entire worlds, Sirius. Entire. Worlds.”

This time, Sirius couldn’t contain his laugh, the sound bright and warm in the stillness of the night. “You’re ridiculous,” he said, shaking his head. “Absolutely ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously brilliant,” you corrected, your eyes gleaming with mischief.

“Sure,” he conceded, still chuckling. “Let’s go with that.”

The frog croaked again, louder this time, and the two of you turned to look at it. For a moment, the banter fell away, replaced by a quiet stillness. The lake’s rippling surface seemed to stretch endlessly before you, its edges fading into the shadows of the distant shore. Sirius found himself glancing back at you—not for the first time tonight, but this time, he really looked.

There was something about the way the moonlight caught your face, highlighting the curve of your smile and the way your eyes sparkled with that strange, otherworldly curiosity. It was the kind of expression that made Sirius’s chest tighten, though he wouldn’t admit it out loud.

“Hey,” he said softly, breaking the silence. “Do you ever stop to think that maybe you’re the one with all the magic? Not the frog.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden sincerity in his tone. For a second, your usual bravado faltered, replaced by something quieter, almost shy. Then you smiled—soft, bright, and undeniably you.

“Maybe,” you said lightly, though your voice held a warmth that made Sirius’s heart stutter. “But if I am, I’m still keeping the frog. He’s an excellent sidekick.”

Sirius grinned, leaning back on his heels. “Fair enough. But if you ever need a co-pilot for your puddle adventures, let me know.”

You pretended to consider it, tapping your chin thoughtfully. “Hmm. Only if you promise to keep up.”

“Oh, I’ll keep up,” Sirius said, standing and offering you a hand. “You just make sure to lead the way.”

You took his hand, letting him pull you to your feet. The frog croaked its approval, hopping closer to the water’s edge as though ready to resume its role as the enigmatic guide to your peculiar mission.

Together, you stood side by side, gazing out at the vast expanse of the lake. The world felt a little quieter, a little more magical, as though the absurdity of the moment had cracked open something deeper—a promise of adventures yet to come, and perhaps something more.

You tilted your head, feigning deep concentration. “Shhh,” you hissed, holding up a hand. “It’s complicated. Frogs speak in riddles.”

“Do they now?” Sirius’s lips quivered into a grin, but he stayed quiet, indulging you.

“Absolutely,” you replied with utmost seriousness. Then, after a dramatic pause, you turned to him, your expression grave. “It says you’re far too cocky for your own good.”

“Does it?” Sirius shot back, his grin widening. “Anything else, or is that the extent of its divine insight?”

You nodded solemnly, gesturing toward the frog as though it had just delivered a revelation of world-altering importance. “It also says you should stop underestimating the power of puddles. They hold entire worlds, Sirius. Entire. Worlds.”

This time, Sirius couldn’t contain his laugh, the sound bright and warm in the stillness of the night. “You’re ridiculous,” he said, shaking his head. “Absolutely ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously brilliant,” you corrected, your eyes gleaming with mischief.

“Sure,” he conceded, still chuckling. “Let’s go with that.”

The frog croaked again, louder this time, and the two of you turned to look at it. For a moment, the banter fell away, replaced by a quiet stillness. The lake’s rippling surface seemed to stretch endlessly before you, its edges fading into the shadows of the distant shore. Sirius found himself glancing back at you—not for the first time tonight, but this time, he really looked.

There was something about the way the moonlight caught your face, highlighting the curve of your smile and the way your eyes sparkled with that strange, otherworldly curiosity. It was the kind of expression that made Sirius’s chest tighten, though he wouldn’t admit it out loud.

“Hey,” he said softly, breaking the silence. “Do you ever stop to think that maybe you’re the one with all the magic? Not the frog.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden sincerity in his tone. For a second, your usual bravado faltered, replaced by something quieter, almost shy. Then you smiled—soft, bright, and undeniably you.

“Maybe,” you said lightly, though your voice held a warmth that made Sirius’s heart stutter. “But if I am, I’m still keeping the frog. He’s an excellent sidekick.”

Sirius grinned, leaning back on his heels. “Fair enough. But if you ever need a co-pilot for your puddle adventures, let me know.”

You pretended to consider it, tapping your chin thoughtfully. “Hmm. Only if you promise to keep up.”

“Oh, I’ll keep up,” Sirius said, standing and offering you a hand. “You just make sure to lead the way.”

You took his hand, letting him pull you to your feet. The frog croaked its approval, hopping closer to the water’s edge as though ready to resume its role as the enigmatic guide to your peculiar mission.

Together, you stood side by side, gazing out at the vast expanse of the lake. The world felt a little quieter, a little more magical, as though the absurdity of the moment had cracked open something deeper—a promise of adventures yet to come, and perhaps something more.

[mtheonott]

Time=love

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

⌗ comfort, fluff, hugs, sleepy

word count: 281

note: forget bout the high concentration of magic ;)

Watching TikToks with your arms around each other has become your tradition.

At Hogwarts, many students (unbeknownst to the teachers) carried phones with them into the building and used Muggle apps.

You were no exception. Taking a snapchat photo a couple of times, taking off lipsings on tiktok, posting stories on Instagram is the routine of the day.

However, the most favorite part of your time has become lazily scrolling through videos with your boyfriend Theodore. He happily agreed to this adventure, hugging you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder and sitting you between his legs. He wasn't interested in this app, but he agreed to share romantic videos with romantic songs, like from Lil pip. More often than not, he would just doze off, closing his eyes and lazily stroking your thighs. This tradition has become your favorite.

Especially in the evening, after dinner. You lock yourself in the room, next, on the chest of drawers, there are two mugs of hot tea. The room is warm and pleasant. The guy's soft strokes soothe after a hard day. There are various stories in there recommendations, and of course you have to discuss them. Your fingers are already automatically scrolling through the video, where there is a handsome man, so that Nott does not notice. "We'll have to make it later," you lazily respond to the tiktok dance video, knowing full well that you're unlikely to do it. Eyelids get heavy when the clock is late.

After removing the last video, you could go to sleep. Or, in order not to spend the day lazily, go to Zabini to discuss gossip. It doesn't matter. The main thing is together.

[raven-dor]

could you do a fred weasley ii story please? where they both like each other but it's painfully obvious that they do, but both of them won't do anything.

love your writing BTW!!

LOVED THIS REQUEST!! this is getting posted this TUESDAY at 4pm EST, so keep an eye out!!

until then, here's a sneak peak of close to you...

“Fred.” 

A beat of silence. “Everything alright, love?” 

“Can you-” She took a deep breath. “I need your help.” 

“With?” His voice sounded tight. 

“The dress… I can’t-” She huffed, picked up the front of the dress, and walked out of the dressing room. “The lacing...” Fred just stared, and her heart started racing. “Stop looking at me like that.” He stepped forward, his eyes dangerously full of mischief. 

“Turn around.” 

“Excuse me?” She tilted her head. 

“The lacing.” He whispered. “Turn around.” 

“You picked the perfect dress, Freddie.” 

He smiled to himself, tightening the laces once more before tying a bow. “It’s nothing…” She turned around, and he realized how serious this moment had become. “You look like the moon itself.” She laughed, actually laughed. He almost glared, here he was complimenting her, and she laughed at him. “What’s so funny?” 

“I’m sorry, it’s just that you looked so serious when you said it.” 

“Oh really?” He raised an eyebrow, a smile creeping on his face. “Well, remind me to never compliment you again.” 

“No!” She begged. “Please, don’t.” 

“Fine, fine.” Somehow his arm had found its way around her waist, and time seemed to stand still. “You’ve convinced me.” 

“What are we doing?” She whispered. “This-” 

“Y/N.” His eyes were desperate. “I need to kiss you now. Is that- okay?” 

She nodded her eyelids lulling. “Yes.” 

“I- I’m going to-” 

“Fred just kiss me.” Her voice was ruder than she intended it to be, her eyes widening. “I only-” 

“I don’t think we should.” He whispered. “It would only-” 

Tears pricked at her eyes. “Can you undo the laces please?” 

He nodded. “I’m sorry-” 

“Fred, just do it.” Her voice was harsh, and his fingers fumbled with the strings. “And don’t apologize to me. We both wanted to, just…” The dress was loose, barely holding it up as she turned around. She looked up at him, tears streaming down her face. “Promise me you won’t tell anyone about this.” 

“I-”

“Promise me!”

“I promise.” 

She shoved past him, pulling the curtain shut. “I think you should leave.” 

“Y/N…” 

“Fred, go away.” 

Her tone dripped with venom. He’d never heard her sound that betrayed, more angry, and it made him want to stay even more, to help her and make up for his cowardice. “Love, let me-” 

“Just stop!” She pushed away, shutting the curtain. “I think it’s best if we take a break.” 

“A break?” His voice sounded nervous. Good, she wanted him to squirm like she just had. “From what?” 

“Whatever this is Fred. I’m tired of it.” She walked out of the dressing room, glaring at her best friend. “I have feelings for you and I can’t- I can’t be around you like this. So please just don’t talk to me.” 

She stormed out of the shop, leaving Fred alone with his thoughts. He was empty, he realized. It was stupid: honestly, the most foolish thing he’d ever done, backing out of something he knew he had wanted to do for ages. She was right, he was a coward. How many, he asked himself, could stand in the face of perfection itself and not crumble? He pushed open the curtain, frowning at her dress thrown on the ground. 

“Excuse me?” He stood up, turning around to see an older witch looking at his with evident concern. “Is everything alright?” 

“I’d-” He took a deep breath, folding the dress delicately. “I’d like to buy this dress please.” 

The older witch smiled, leading him to the register. “She’s very lucky.” 

He laughed, shaking his head. “I’m the lucky one.”

[cmanse]

N E W H A R R Y P O T T E R

C H A R A C T E R A I B O T S

I just noticed the almost complete disappearance of the Harry Potter fandom on Character AI. I'm really annoyed and sorry for those who are really into this fandom, as I was too for a long time. So I'm going to try, like for HotD, the Marauders, to add as much as possible to fill this fandom as much as possible. I take all requests

For the request and my character ia masterlist -> CHARACTER IA BOTS

@ elizabethmanse on character ai ☆

his first girlfriend (boyfriend!ron weasley x girlfriend!user) — ron weasley was never good with girls yet user fell in love with him. [mxw]

share a snack with him (ron weasley x user) — ron weasley is sent away again by professor snape. looking for comfort he decides to eat a sandwich until user appears and makes him choke. [mxn]

paired with a muggle-born (draco malfoy x younger slytherin!user) — after being caught insulting hermione granger of mudblood, mcgonagall punishes draco by pairing him with user, a muggle-born slytherin who has difficulty integrating into the magical world. [mxn]

help you with your muggle homework (hermione granger x pure blood!user) — user took the muggle studies option to annoy her/his/them blood supremacist parents but quickly found himself overwhelmed by the amount of work. so them asked hermione for help. [mxn]

true or dare (golden trio : hermione granger x harry potter x ron weasley x user) — truth or dare with hermione, harry and ron at midnight in the gryffindor common room. [wxmxmxw]

sitting next to him in class (harry potter x user) — user keeps distracting harry potter during transfiguration class [mxn]

★

I have only 9 bots on Harry Potter for now, I'll try to add as many as possible. I'm pretty happy with the ones on Ron and Draco, a little less with the one on Harry, Hermione and the Golden Trio… idk… Anyway, I hope you like them ;)

mxw] = man x woman | [mxn] = man x non-binary/man/woman (you can choose your gender) | [wxw] = woman x woman | [wxw] = woman x woman | [mxwxw] = men x woman x woman

……………………………..……………………………..……………………. • masterlist — my character ai elizabethmanse • bots of 22 dec 2024

[ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes]

Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?

part five

pairing: james potter x black sister!reader, regulus black x sister!reader

genre: angst with like maybe a little fluff?

el's thoughts: this is part five! hope yall enjoy!

main masterlist | regulus masterlist | james masterlist

Regulus and Y/N Black showed up at the Potter’s manor once again. Almost a year had gone by since the first time and the twins returned completely different people. They were no longer the scared children in need of help and shelter. 

Y/N knocked on the door swiftly and took a step back as she straightened her trench coat lapels. Regulus stood behind her, just over her shoulder keeping an eye on the surroundings behind them. 

The door opened cautiously and the twins were met with a pair of the most striking green eyes.

“Black,” Lily Evans said.

“Evans,” Y/N nodded curtly in response. “We were wondering if we could speak to Sirius?”

The redhead had eyed the skeptically. “What makes you think he’s here?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, “Please Evans, I’m not an idiot.”

“And neither are we.” 

Y/N saw immediately how her eyes cast downward to her cloaked forearm. Y/N’s stomach turned as she looked back to Regulus who also seemed uneasy. Y/N pulled at her sleeve and cleared her throat. “Please… let me see my brother.” Y/N inhaled deeply, “I beg of you, Lily.”

Lily sighed out of pure pity. “Alright, go around back. I’ll send him that way.”

Regulus eyed the redhead in distrust but led Y/N to follow her directions either way. They weren’t in a position to argue.

They walked to the back of the manor and saw Sirius waiting on the back porch anxiously running his hands through his hair. When he saw his younger siblings he lit up like a light bulb and rushed to hug them tightly.

“Oh thank Godric! I thought Lily was pullin’ my leg.” He made no move to let them go. “Are you two alright? I got so scared when you didn’t return, and then I got no letters from the both of you-”

“We’re fine, Siri,” Y/N mumbled into his shoulder as she held him back just as tightly. Without her realizing it, the ache of missing her eldest brother only grew as time passed. She missed the way he held her. The way he comforted her as if she were a child. “We’re alright. Promise.”

Regulus was the first to break up the hug and he cleared his throat while blinking quickly to rid himself of the tears that prickled in the back of his eyes. “Sirius, we came here to tell you something.”

“You’re Death Eaters? I’ve heard that already.”

“Yes, we’re Death Eaters, but that wasn’t what we came all this way to tell you. We’re not idiots.”

Y/N forced herself not to roll her eyes. “We came to get help and offer our services.”

“Offer your services?” Sirius trailed off, confusion swimming in his eyes. 

“We know the Dark Lord’s plans, having heard everything first hand. We can be valuable to your cause don’t’cha think?” Y/N said with a mock confidence and cockiness that her eyes didn’t carry.

“No.” Sirius shook his head, looking between his two little siblings. “Abouslute not. Do you know what you would be signing up for? That’s basically asking to die.”

“Sirius, please.”

“No, I won’t allow it. You can’t just put your lives on the line for the sake of others.”

“Is that not what you’re doing? What James, Remus, and Peter are doing?”

“That’s different…”

“How?” Y/N nearly snapped. “Tell me how is it any different? Sirius our lives are already on the line every day we wake up. We didn’t sign up for this. We didn’t want this life, so let us gain what little control we can. I want the risk to be worth something, Sirius.”

The older Black shook his head, “It’s too dangerous… I can’t.”

“Well, then it’s a good thing you’re not really in charge of us then. Isn’t it?” Regulus snipped.

“We are doing this, Sirius. With or without your support,” Y/N looked up at him with tears lining her eyes. “But we’d much rather have you stand up for us.”

Sirius stared at his siblings in silent mourning of their youth before he nodded slowly. “Okay, I support you both.”

~

James walked into the Potter’s kitchen. His parents left the house to him and he opened it up to the order, not wanting to stay in the house alone or let it sit empty and useless. His parents wouldn’t want that. 

Normally only he and Sirius actually lived there but since a few weeks ago Y/N and Regulus moved back in. Some of the other Order members would spend a night or two but never stayed longer. So it took a few days for James to get used to other people in the house again. 

Y/N sat at the kitchen counter nursing a cup of tea, that by the looks of it had gone cold a while ago. She sat in her pjamas with one knee brought up to her chest and the other tucked under her with her chin on her knee. She looked tangled up but made it look comfy, almost enough to convince James that if he put himself in the same position he would be just as comfortable. 

“You look lost.” His voice startled her, causing her to jolt a little. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya.”

“Oh… no, no you’re all good. Sorry.” Y/N repositioned herself and let her painted nail trace the rim of her mug, her eyes became unfocused again as she stared into the dark liquid. 

“No need to apologize, love.” James walked to the stove where the kettle sat and turned it on again. The pet name that slipped from his lips went unnoticed by him but caught Y/N’s attention, though she wouldn’t mention it.

“What’re you doing up?” Y/N asked quietly, allowing him to take her cup and dump the cold tea.

“Couldn’t sleep. Why are you up?”

“Same reason apparently.” 

James hummed, putting a new tea bag in her mug while pulling out a mug for himself and doing the same. Y/N had finally realized that he was making her a new cup of tea and straightened up. “You don’t have to do that.”

“It’s no problem, your cup had already gone cold. Unless you didn’t want another one…” James trailed off.

“No, I do,” Y/N spoke quietly, wringing her fingers together mindlessly. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

James placed the freshly made cup of tea in front of Y/N, the steam curling up in soft, lazy tendrils. He gave her a small smile before settling into the chair opposite her, his own tea cradled in his hands. The kitchen was quiet, the kind of quiet that felt heavy but not quite unwelcome. James found it oddly comforting.

“So,” he began, his voice cutting through the silence but not in a harsh way, “what’s on your mind? What’s keeping you up?”

Y/N blinked, surprised by the direct question, but then again she shouldn’t have been surprised. “Oh… just stuff,” she said vaguely, her fingers fidgeting with the mug.

James tilted his head, studying her carefully. “You’re not very descriptive, are you?”

A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips, but she kept her gaze down. “Just… everything, I guess. The war, Regulus, Sirius, m-my parents…” Her voice faltered, and she shrugged as though it wasn’t a big deal, though the weight of her words said otherwise. 

James nodded, his brow furrowing. “That’s a lot to carry all alone.”

Y/N shrugged again, still not meeting his eyes. “I’m used to it by now.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to do it alone.” His voice was soft but firm, and Y/N finally glanced up at him. There was something in his expression-–an openness, a warmth—that made her chest feel a little lighter, even if just for a fleeting moment.

“Yeah, well,” she said, trying to shrug off the vulnerability creeping in, “not much of a choice these days, is there?”

James didn’t press her, sensing she wasn’t ready to share more. Instead, he smiled, raising his mug. “Here’s to sleepless nights in the Potter kitchen. At least we’re not alone in our misery.”

That coaxed a small laugh from Y/N, a sound James found himself wanting to hear more often. “Cheers to that,” she said, clinking her mug against his softly.

~

Over the next few days, James found himself seeking Y/N out more often. Whether it was helping her brew potions for the Order, get ready to go to a Deatheatter meeting, or simply sitting with her in the living room while she read. He couldn’t seem to stay away. He liked the way her face softened when she was deep in thought, the way her laugh—when she let it out—filled the room like sunlight, a drastic contrast to her usual persona.

Y/N, on her part, was equally drawn to James. She hadn’t expected him to be so kind, so patient. She’s always known him as Sirius’ blood-traitor best friend, the one who was always laughing and causing trouble. But the day he found her crying in the hallway changed her perspective entirely. But this James added to her changed perspective. This James, the one who brought her tea without asking and listened without interrupting, was someone she found herself wanting to know better.

One evening, they were sitting on the porch steps, watching the sun dip below the horizon. The air was cool, and Y/N had wrapped herself in a blanket. James had brought out two mugs of hot cocoa, handing one to her without a word. 

“You’re really good at this, you know,” she said after a long silence.

James raised an eyebrow. “Good at what?”

“This,” she gestured between them and around them. “Making people feel… safe.”

He chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I think that’s just you, Y/N. You make it easy.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she looked away, hiding her smile behind the rim of her mug. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she muttered, though there was no usual bite to her words. “You’ve taken care of Sirius for years now and have made him feel safe. Even Regulus feels safe now.” She trailed off, “Well, as safe as we could be.”

James hummed and stayed silent.

As safe as they could be.

~

It was Sirius who noticed first.

He walked into the kitchen one afternoon to find James and Y/N sitting close together at the counter, their heads bent over a piece of parchment. James was explaining something, his hand occasionally brushing against hers as he pointed to the page. Y/N didn’t pull away, her face lit up with one of the rare smiles Sirius hadn’t seen in such a long time.

“Oh, this is interesting,” Sirius drawled, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe.

James and Y/N both looked up, their expressions a mix of guilt and annoyance. “What do you want, Sirius?” Y/N asked, rolling her eyes.

“Nothing,” he said, grinning. “Just enjoying the view. You two look cozy.”

“Bugger off,” James muttered, though his ears turned red.

Sirius’s grin widened. “Alright, alright. Don’t let me interrupt your... working.”

As Sirius left, Y/N groaned, burying her face in her hands. “He’s never going to let this go.”

James laughed, reaching out to gently nudge her arm. “Let him have his fun. It’s not so bad, is it?”

Y/N peeked at him through her fingers, her lips twitching into a reluctant smile. “I suppose not.”

[mcntsee]

me when I reach the angst part of the angsty fic that I specifically chose for the angst

[l0velysmut]

family: “why are you just sitting in ur room smiling at ur phone?”

me who’s been reading smut about fictional characters for the past 6 hours:

[colmiillo]

When y/n does something so cringe that i have to look at the invisible camera for a sec.

[thatboisus]

“english isn’t my first langua—“ say no more.

[yawneon]

how i look at my screen after y/n just got called kitten/puppy/bunny