#Harry and Neville are brothers | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mallowsweetmiri · 1 year ago

Text

Truth, Dare, or Punishment ~ Fred Weasley

summary: you bitches asked for dom!Fred and you shall receive. a game of truth or dare in the common room goes south when Mclaggen dares you to kiss him

warnings: possessive dom!Fred, smut, cursing

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

The night had been going splendid so far. Everyone was way too excited after the arrival of Beauxbatons and Durmstrong to go to sleep, and the older Gryffindors decided to get shitfaced as the perfect solution to their restlessness. After all, there was no quidditch this year to justify throwing common room parties, so you guys had to get creative. The new year brought new witches and wizards to corrupt, and so the twins finally let their baby brother Ron and his year join the fun. It been going well, granted Hermione was drunk off her ass, but Harry had been watching over her well enough. You were also past the point of drunk, and you assumed by their faces that the rest of the group were on their way there. At this point in the night, those who were still awake were circled up playing a filthy game of truth or dare. Angelina had gone to do seven minutes in heaven with George, Neville had eaten a puking pastille, and Ron had madeout with Lavender Brown in a disturbing manner. It was time to spin the bottle again to see who would ask the next question. Hermione giggle and leaned into the circle to spin the bottle. Everyone look around with nervous smiles as it spun around and around, before landing on Cormac McLaggen. You cringed. This was possibly the worst person it could've stopped on. Your body had a visceral reaction when your name left his lips.

"Y/N," he smiled drukenly, "Truth or dare?" You rolled your eyes. Oh, great.

"Truth," you said, grabbing your drink and taking a swig. You were going to need it.

"Who did you lose your virginity to?"

You choked on your drink as the rest of the group murmured at the question, Hermione's jaw dropping before a stream of shocked laughs escaped her. You felt Fred tense up beside you. Your mind raced with the memories of this summer at the Burrow.

"Just like that, Y/N. You're doing so good," Fred praised as he thrusted into you, kissing the crook of your neck while he fucked you. He'd been teaching you how kiss, as a friend of course. He had to help out his dear friend Y/N when she confessed how embarrassed she was that she had never kissed anyone. Never done anything with anyone. From there it had escalated. First, you wanted to know learn to give a blowjob, but soon enough Fred thought it'd be best if you knew what these things felt like too. After a while, you both realized you were terribly obsessed with each other, and one night you decided to let him be the one to take your virginity. He was big, and you were nervous, but he was so sweet about it. Even at the beginning when you thought it wouldn't be able to fit, he was reassuring and gentle with you. But that was at the start, and by now he was fully fucking you on your back, your pussy starting the soften around his cock as pleasure began to ripple through your body. You both came together in a heap of sweat and kisses.

"Y/N," McLaggen sung, waiting for your response.

"I'm not answering that," you coughed, still choking on your drink. The group has set up measure to tell if someone was lying, so you couldn't fake still being a virgin. You supposed the question wasn't that out of pocket, but you couldn't answer it. Nobody knew about you and Fred besides George, and you both wanted to keep it that way. Especially from your families.

"Well then, you know the rules," McLaggen tsked teasingly, "you forfeit to dare."

"What? No, I-"

"Those are the rules Y/N," Hermione cringed, unable to stop herself. McLaggen smirked.

"I dare you to kiss me."

You felt nauseous. McLaggen was disgusting, and the last person you'd ever want to kiss. Unfortunately, you'd brought this onto yourself. You should've known he would dare someone to kiss himself. What a weirdo. The circle groaned and laughed in disgust as McLaggen puckered his lips. You cringed and shifted your weight to lean across the circle. Just as you were about to shuffle over to him, Fred grabbed your wrist and pulled you back. You looked back at him and saw anything but a smile on his usually cheerful face. He spun the bottle and landed it on himself in a hasty motion, still holding onto your wrist tightly.

"McLaggen, I dare you to stop wearing your fucking Ballycastle Bats tighty whities to every single quidditch practice," Fred sneered before yanking you up with him and pulling you towards his dorm. You heard the group go crazy with laughter behind you and hoped it would cover for the fact that Fred just pulled you away from the party. Hopefully George could cover for you two, he should be done with seven minutes by now. Fred dragged you up the stairs without so much as a look in your direction. Once you reach his dorm, he threw open the door. What was happening?

"Fred-" he smashed his lips into yours and shut the door with your body. You gasped as your back hit to wooden surface, Fred pulling your skirt up while his hand gripped your thigh. He used your lifted leg as leverage to grind down into your hips as he pressed you against the door. Your pussy pulsed when you felt him against you, his hands gripping in all the right places. Wait a minute. When did he start kissing you again?

"Fred," you said quickly, pulling away from his mouth. He tried to kiss you again. "Fred, we just left the party. You just dragged me up here when I was supposed to kiss-"

"Don't even say his name," Fred growled, his breathing heavy and hot as he kept his face inches from yours.

"I'm sorry," you whispered out, unable to speak properly. You'd never seen Fred mad before.

"I'm sorry I dragged you," he softened, ducking his head down to kiss your neck, "but I wasn't going to let somebody else kiss you." With that, he began to attack your neck. His left hand came up to grip the back of your head as his tongue and teeth lapped at your sweet spot. You let out whimpered moans as he worked, his fingers gripping you just right. Rougher than usual.

"Freddie," you moaned, grinding yourself onto his leg. You needed more. This man had hooked, and you'd never been so addicted in your life. He picked you up under your legs and carried you to the bed before placing you down on your back. He stood over you, leaving you panting on the bed as he took off his shirt and undid his belt. His eyes were locked on yours. You wanted to look away but you couldn't, his gaze wouldn't let you. When he finished, he rushed towards you again, kissing you deeply as his hand flipped your skirt up. His tongued rammed itself into your mouth, stifling your moans when his fingers grazed over your clit. You blushed as his fingers masterfully moved your panties aside and dipped into your core. Fred laughed into the kiss as he felt you.

"Already so wet for me," he breathed huskily, "are you ready to take me?" His words had you aching. You nodded up at him bashfully. You wanted him so badly. You had turned into such a slut for his cock. "Good girl." He sat up and flipped you over, pulling your panties down as he took off his own pants. He didn't bother to take off your skirt as he pulled you back onto him. You let out a guttural moan as you felt his length stretching you out.

"Fuck, Freddie," you whined as he gripped your hips and began to thrust into you. He was going to leave bruises for tomorrow, but you didn't care.

"You're taking it so good, Y/N" Fred groaned, smacking your ass, "you like getting fucked by me? Huh?" He picked up his pace, pounding into you hard. Your moans were bouncing with the rhythm of his thrusts as he waited for your reply.

"Y-yes, Freddie. I love when you fuck me," you whined, feeling you pussy begin to clench around him. His dick twitched at the feeling and groaned. In one motion, he pulled out and spun you onto your back, pulling your shirt up over your tits and pinning your wrists above your head.

"God, you look so fucking pretty. Can't see your beautiful face while I'm behind you," Fred grunted as he thrust back into you. You moaned and threw you head back. You writhed underneath Fred, his hand constraining your wrists. You desperately needed to grasps something. You were reaching the edge.

"Freddie," you cried, unable to say anything except his name. Your eyes clenched shut as you felt your stomach knot up one final time.

"That's it, baby. Come for me." You could feel his eyes on you as you released yourself around his throbbing cock. As the waves of pleasure began to slow, Fred grunted and became sloppy. He released your hands and buried his face into your neck as he came, pushing himself as deep as he could inside of you. He laid there for a moment before pushing himself off you and pulling you onto his chest. You couldn't help but giggle a little as he kissed your head and rubbed your shoulder.

"You are so jealous," you teased, looking up to see Fred. He laughed with a sleepy half smiled.

"I'm not jealous," he retorted, pinching your cheek. "I'm just protecting whats mine."

#fred weasley smut #fred x reader #fred weasley x reader #fred weasely x y/n #weasley smut #harry potter headcanon #fred weasley headcanons #weasley twins #hp headcanon #hp fanfic #hp smut #george weasley #george weasly x reader #mallowsweetmiri

2K notes · View notes

urmom3001 · 4 months ago

Text

George Weasley's Crush on

Y/n Longbottom

Summary: The five times George Weasley realises he really likes Y/n Longbottom, a confident, smart girl to her opposite counterpart, Neville. And, the one time he did something about it to seal the deal.

Warnings!: Fem!Reader, Hufflepuff!Reader, Mostly fluff, nothing really.

W.C: 6.0k

1, Year 4, 1993

For the first two years of her little brother’s career at Hogwarts, Y/n tried to keep her distance from him– per his request. He was a young boy, just starting his amazing magical career, and Y/n understood that he wanted to flourish by himself while she idly stood by watching him struggle to do just that. She never lost faith that he would though.

Now, it wasn’t like they hadn’t interacted, of course they talked throughout the year, and studied in the library together. However, being in different houses helped with the distance that Neville wanted to keep. Y/n was a Hufflepuff, the house a lot of people thought Neville should’ve been placed in. Y/n thought otherwise, she trusted in the Sorting Hat’s judgement very deeply, her loyalty never faltered.

Y/n loved her brother endlessly, and was happy to oblige with whatever wishes the boy had. So when Sirius Black had miraculously escaped from Azkaban prison over the summer, and Neville had insisted they would stay close together in fear of the man, she was glad to do just that to make him feel comfortable. She knew exactly why he was terrified, Sirius Black was the cousin of Bellatrix Lestrange, their parents’ torturer.

While Neville had been the one to request her to stay away, he was also the one who gravitated towards her when he felt afraid–which was half of his time at Hogwarts. Y/n would never deny him anything, she was his big sister, how could she ever? So, even though they were not together for most of their time at Hogwarts, they had been seen around each other to note that they were in fact siblings, it was a mystery how none of his fellow lions seemed to realise it.

It was the first breakfast of the term, the Longbottom siblings walked down the aisle arm in arm, hooked intertwined with each other. “Do you think Sirius Black would ever try to enter the castle?”

“I highly doubt it, Nev. The castle is protected by talented Professors, it’d be an idiotic mistake to attempt to.” Y/n logically answered, visibly calming her brother’s nerves as they walked through the grand doors of the Great Hall. Y/n was very good at grounding Neville when he was feeling especially anxious. Y/n walked Neville down all the way to the Gryffindor table where his friends resided. “Alright, Neville, I’ll be off at Hufflepuff table, I’ll meet you at the courtyard for lunch, okay?”

Neville nodded. “Alright.” Y/n nodded happily, before kissing Neville on the forehead, and turning her heel to leave. Neville went pink of embarrassment, one of the reasons he had asked Y/n to keep her distance was because she was very affectionate, hugs, and kisses on the cheek and forehead were her go to greetings, and biddings. Not that he minded, however things that seem little in private, and the comfort of your home seem different under the gazing eyes of your peers.

Neville brushed it off, and sat down. “Morning guys.” He was now seated across from Ron Weasley, Harry Potter, and Ron’s older twin brothers Fred, and George.

“Morning, Neville.” Ginny Weasley chimed from beside him, Hermione Granger echoed her one seat down.

“I didn’t know you had a girlfriend, Neville?” Said Ron, through his mouth of sausage.

Neville, Ginny, and Hermione looked bewildered staring back at Ron. “Girlfriend?” Neville asked.

Fred, and George looked at each other knowingly. “The Hufflepuff that just dropped you off.” Fred teased.

“Meeting you in the courtyard for lunch?” George raised his eyebrows in amusement. He was quite a bit jealous of Neville, the Hufflepuff he had never seen before was quite gorgeous to him. The four boys laughed, and Neville looked at Ginny, and Hermione.

“That’s his sister!” Ginny cackled, and shook her head.

“Sister?” All of the boys said in a synchronised surprise, how is it that they’d known Neville for three years now, and had never known he had a sister?

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Do you ever pay attention? Her name is literally Y/n Longbottom. Honestly.”

“Older, or younger?” George asked, he was trying to see if it was appropriate to grow a crush on the girl.

“She’s a fourth-year.” Neville answered. “We’re together all of the time…” Sure they hadn’t spent every waking moment together, but they were together enough to put two, and two together that they were related. Longbottom was a particularly easy name to miss.

“A fourth-year?” Ron repeated.

“Yes, Ron, he just said.” Fred jokes, causing them to laugh. But George was distracted, his eyes across the room looking at the boy’s brother. She was gorgeous, and there was something about her that made him want to find out more. He knew her last name, and that she was a Hufflepuff, but that was just about it.

“Oi, Georgie’s staring.” Lee whispered to Fred. Fred looked at his brother, and followed his gaze.

“No way…” Fred whispered to Lee, Fred sat in between the two. “Georgie’s got it for Neville’s older sister!”

After the first day of term, George had started to see the girl everywhere, in places he had never noticed her before.

He began to notice her when she walked past the Gryffindor table with her friends in the mornings, and afternoons. He saw her on his way to Potions in the corridors while she was on the way to her next class as well. And most of all, in the library– well exiting the library when he was on his way back to the common room from Quidditch practice. He began to make it a point to try and see her whenever he could during these times. It was a small, simple crush, one he figured he would let go of once he realised she was the type of girl that would never give him the time of day for his personality that was seen as immature, and loud.

George Weasley, and Y/n Longbottom were opposites, totally, and completely.

2, Year 5, 1994

George Weasley thought that his crush on Y/n Longbottom would dwindle, but no…oh no.

During the summer he hadn’t given her much thought, but once he saw her at the train station on September 1st, he remembered why he had liked her so much. She was glowing, and was with Neville. He berated himself for nor noticing her sooner.

“Oi.” Fred whispered. “You’re staring.”

George furrowed his eyebrows. “Am not.”

“Are too.” Fred teased.

“So what?” George rolled his eyes as they stepped onto the train.

“So. You’ve got a crush on Y/n Longbottom.” Fred chuckled.

“It’s not a crush…” George looked back onto the line of students waiting to also board the train. Her, and her brother were just a few students down from himself, and his own brother. “She’s just–” George tried to find the words. “Intriguing.”

“So…you like her.” Fred shook his head, and shared a look with Lee.

“Oh, he’s got it bad.” Lee snickered.

Later on in the train ride, George really, really had to go pee. He wasn’t sure why he had held it for so long. Perhaps it was his extremely short attention span that made him put it off, afterall the conversation he, Fred, and Lee were having was quite remarkable. A conversation of which Slytherins they were to prank this year, and the mysterious “event” that was going to occur at Hogwarts.

He was walking down the aisle extremely fast to get to the lavatory at the end of the aisle, that was so close, yet so far. He was walking so fast that he didn’t realise one of the compartment doors had opened, and a girl had walked out. In his defense, the girl was not looking into the hall either, and would not have seen the redhead that was zooming to the bathroom because her head was turned to her friend.

Of course, as all people do when they aren’t paying attention to their surroundings, the boy, and the girl crashed into each other. The girl George crashed into? Y/n Longbottom. Great, George thought to himself, not only did he need to pee extremely badly, he had also just embarrassed himself in front of the girl he had a raging crush on.

The girl, being so different in body mass from him, fell straight to the floor. George was mortified. “I am so sorry–” Until she started laughing. It was melodic, and George could've sworn he’d just heard a chorus of angels sing. George let out a hand for her to take.

She continued to laugh while she took it. “It’s alright. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” She sighed, dusting herself off.

George looked at her, no, not looked, inspected. He could not believe how that just played out. There was a moment of awkward silence, George forgetting how to function completely, even the feeling of the uncomfortable need to pee was gone. Finally he realised he hadn’t even checked on her. “Are you okay?” He asked, hoping she didn’t notice the effect she had on him.

She nodded. “Nothing but a bruise on my bum, I’m sure.” She joked. She hadn’t really hit the floor that hard, she was fine.

George nodded, and began to walk backwards. “Sorry again.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She shook her head, with a small smile. A small smile that went a long way for George, as his cheeks went pink once he turned around to make his way towards the lavatory again.

Of course, there was a line he could now see as he approached. He curiously looked back, just to see if Y/n was still in the aisle. He wasn’t expecting her to be just a few paces behind him. He now realised she needed to use the restroom too. He internally panicked. Things had just been adding up, he needed to pee extremely badly, he had just practically knocked the wind out of the girl he had a very big crush on, and now after just knocking her over, had to stand in line for the bathroom with her.

George gulped now that she was caught up to him, and standing in the line as well. He leaned on the wall, and looked up before huffing. “Are you okay?” He wasn’t expecting her to make conversation.

He looked down at her, she looked really concerned. She could definitely sense his uncomfortableness. He nodded. “I feel like I should be asking you that, considering–” He wasn’t trying to make her laugh, but she let out a small chuckle.

“You don’t have to worry about that. I'm a-okay, I promise.” She reassured him. The conversation went idle, before George gathered up his courage to keep it moving.

“You’re Neville’s older sister, Y/n right?” Smooth George, ask her questions you know the answer to already, he mentally berated himself.

She smiled at the mention of her little brother. “Yes, he’s my little brother, he’s in your house, and you’re one of the Weasley twins.” George opened his mouth to confirm which twin he was when she cut him off. “Wait, let me guess!” Neville had told her that whenever he wanted to differentiate the twins he always looked for a mold on either one of their necks, because George had one, and Fred didn't.

She inspected his neck subtly, and quickly found the freckle Neville was talking about. “You’re George.” She confirmed.

George raised his eyebrows in a pleasant surprise. “You’re right.” He chuckled at her excitement, albeit she cheated, but who cares? Not him. George was a little sad when the line got to him, and he entered the lavatory.

Finally, he was able to empty his bladder. Once he got out, Y/n was patiently waiting outside of it for her turn. Y/n smiled, as she entered the bathroom. “I’ll see you around, George.”

“Alright then.” He said, although immediately regretted it. Alright then? He could’ve said anything else, but that. He could’ve said, “See you around.” or “See you too” instead he said, “Alright then.” Before he could redeem himself, the lavatory door was already closed.

He groaned. He was less of a lady’s man then his twin brother was, but he was still not bad when it came to getting girls in his court. What was it about Y/n Longbottom that made him so…nervous?

3, Year 5, 1994

The Yule Ball was in full swing, the date was confirmed for Christmas day, and the halls were buzzing on who was bringing who, or who they were asking. George was stumped. After the incident on the train ride to Hogwarts with Y/n, they had become good acquaintances. They waved to each other in the halls when they passed by each other– George had changed some of his class routes to align with hers, and they would even have short conversations in the mornings sometimes when she would stop by to talk to Neville.

George was the last one in his friend group to not have a date. Lee was going to Alicia Spinnet, and Fred had coolly asked Angelina Johnson to go with him on a whim during study hall, leaving just him.

George wanted nothing more than to ask Y/n to the ball. Especially when he’d caught wind that Ginny was going to the ball with Neville. Now that there was no Quidditch due to the Triwizard Tournament, he didn’t see her coming out of the library like he used to, but figured she might be there at around the same time.

Last year practice would end at around 7:00 pm. So that’s where he went at 7:00 today. He went to the Library corridor, and waited for her to exit. He had it all planned out, he would make it look like chance that he was there when she came out, and then he would say hi, and bring up the ball, and ask her. It was simple, but he was nervous. Very nervous.

Finally he saw her walking out of the library with her things. He walked opposite to her, and greeted her. “Y/n! Hi.”

She furrowed her eyebrows, she never saw George around the library anymore especially now that Quidditch was paused for the year. “Hi, George.” She had gotten pretty well at telling the twins apart, mostly because Fred didn’t really speak to her. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh you know just walking, but– now that I have you here, I was hoping to ask you something?” George started, he could feel the words getting stuck in his throat.

She nodded, she wasn’t even expecting the words that were going to come out of his mouth. “Yeah sure, what’s up?” She asked curiously, giving him her undivided attention, whatever it was it seemed important.

George gulped. “I was just wondering if…” He paused, and she waited patiently. He took a deep breath. “If you wanted to go to the ball with me?” George immediately regretted even coming to the corridor when he saw the look of rejection flash onto Y/n’s face.

“Oh…I’m sorry” She started, George sighed. “I really would’ve loved to, George. Truly. But someone’s already asked me to go, and I’ve already said I’ll go…with him.” She explained, a Durmstrang boy she’d gotten to know a bit from her Magical Creatures class had asked her just a couple of days ago. But she also would’ve loved to go with George if he had asked her sooner.

“Oh.” George sighed, the sting of rejection was laced in his voice. “Well, that’s alright, then. I’ll just–” He turned to leave. But Y/n stopped him.

“I really am sorry, George.” She said in a sorry tone. “I would’ve loved to go with you.”

“Nothing to be sorry for. I guess I should be sorry for asking so close to the ball.” He scratched the nape of his neck, the ball was next week.

Y/n’s expression remained sour. “Maybe we both can be sorry.”

4, year 6, 1995

George’s crush on Y/n had somewhat mellowed down this year. It was still very much there, but as they became closer friends throughout last year, her presence seemed to dull his big feelings about her.

When he was abruptly woken up in the night to the news that his father had been attacked in the Ministry, he was distraught. Groggy, and achy he and his siblings made it to the headmaster’s quarters, where they had gotten news that his father was attacked brutally, but was found, and was now safe.

Which led him here during his winter break. At St. Mungos Hospital to visit his father. Himself, Fred, Ron, Ginny, Hermione, and Harry walked aimlessly around the hospital, they weren’t allowed to visit Mr. Weasley until he had awoken. Mrs. Weasley had told them to spend their time “exploring”, whatever that meant. They’d gotten to a room, it had many old witches, and wizards in the room, the plaque on the door was labelled as, Permanently Magically Incapacitated. That sparked the group's attention, but their interest deepened more when Ginny recognised two people in the room.

“Is that, Neville, and Y/n?” Ginny said to her brothers, and friends.

“Neville, and Y/n?” Ron repeated.

Hermione peaked through the window’s blinds. “It is.” She pointed out. “And that’s their grandmother.”

“Why are they here?” Harry asked, and the others shrugged.

“We should say hi.” Ginny suggested, making her way to the door. Before any of them could stop her, she had knocked on the door, garnering the attention of Neville, and Augusta Longbottom.

Somehow, in the five seconds it took for them to get to the room, Y/n had disappeared, which saddened George. Neville seemed nervous that they were all there.

“Uhh oh! Hey guys.” He acknowledged them, once Ginny waved. His grandmother eyed him. “Oh, grandma, these are my friends, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ron, Ginny, Fred, and George Weasley.”

His grandmother, a tall intimidating woman, reminded George of Y/n. She had the same perfect posture, and the same piercing intimidating gaze. “Why are you here, Neville?” Ginny curiously asked.

“My parents live here.” Neville shortly said, he sounded scared to reveal the truth.

“They live…here?” Harry asked.

Neville nodded, he wasn’t expecting his grandmother to give them his parent’s whole biography. Towards the end of her long rant, George had caught sight of Y/n. He must’ve lit up or made a face, because his grandmother turned to where his gaze was. The sight was despairing, as Y/n walked arm in arm with a frail thin woman, she looked just how their grandmother explained how their parents ended up here. Insane from torture.

“Neville, Mum has something for you.” Y/n quietly said, her face surprised to see all of the familiar faces looking at her.

“Again?” Her grandmother said. “Very well, Alice, dear. Very well. Neville take it– whatever it is…Very nice, dear.” Her grandmother said to her mother.

“Thanks, Mum.” Neville said, taking the small bit of paper from her hands. It was a gum wrapper. Y/n let out a small smile.

In that moment all of the others realised why Neville was, the way that he was. And why Y/n was so protective, and respective of him and his boundaries. George admired Y/n at that moment. He realised she probably had to have had a lot of self resilience to have grown up the way that she did.

George wanted to converse with Y/n, but her mother was pulling her elsewhere into the room. As if on cue, Neville’s grandmother had excused the two of them from the conversation. “Well, we’d better get back. Very nice to have met you all.” She began to follow Y/n and her mother. “Neville put that wrapper in the bin, she must have given you enough to paper your bedroom by now.” George heard their grandmother instruct.

Just as George was about to follow the others that were now filing out of the room. Y/n shortly told her grandmother something before calling out for him. “George!” She said, slightly jogging over. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He smiled, happy that he was able to speak to her just for a bit.

“Just wanted to say hi. But I ought not to keep your family waiting…” Y/n snickered, seeing an amused Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Fred staring at them through the window of the room.

“Ignore them.” He rolled his eyes, there was an awkward silence between them, there was always an awkward air that surrounded them mostly due to George and his feelings for her, but also her blooming ones for him.

“So, what are you guys here for?” She asked curiously, trying to fill the awkward air surrounding them.

“Uhm, my Father. He was attacked while working in the Ministry. He’s okay though.”

“I’m glad to hear. Well, I better get back to my parents. I hope your Father feels better soon.” She grabbed his hand and squeezed it in comfort. “See you at school, George.” She smiled, before letting go of his hand, and happily walking over to her parents, brother, and grandmother.

George had thought his crush on Y/n Longbottom had mellowed, but the way his heart pounded out of his chest from the way she held his hand. The feeling was something he’d never felt before. He’d held hands with tons of girls, kissed tons of girls, but never had they once made him feel how she did.

When George had finally joined the others in the corridor outside, he was teased relentlessly, mostly by Fred, and Ron. However, he didn’t seem to care nor deny the fact that he did in fact have feelings for Y/n, because quite frankly it was undeniable now. George Weasley was deeply, utterly in love with Y/n Longbottom.

5, year 6, 1996

After Dumbledore’s Army had been caught, George, and Fred had cracked a plan to end Umbridge's madness once, and for all. Of course, with the plan came dropping out of school, and beginning to work on their joke shop.

Y/n was currently helping younger years with their wounds after having their detention with Professor Umbridge. As most Hufflepuffs were, and like her brother, Y/n was good with herbs, and plants. One of the plants she grew in her own dorm was Dittany, a plant that was used in many healing potions, and had many magical healing properties.

She sat in the Gryffindor common room, because most of Dumbledore’s Army was Gryffindor students, healing the students’ wounds. George watched her, waiting for his turn, all of the older students collectively decided to let the younger students go first. They could handle the pain for much longer than the younger ones could.

Y/n looked like she was in her element, healing people. She had once confided in George that she wanted to be a healer at St. Mungos. He could definitely see it. George admired how she could be so maternal at her age. She was very mature. It made George insecure about his feelings towards her, he felt they would never be reciprocated just because they were so different.

But he couldn’t have been more wrong. Y/n had grown to like George just as much as he liked her, only she was a little bit better at hiding it. It was apparent to everyone except the pair of them. George was next in line for Y/n’s healing.

They conversed while she did her routine. A couple of drops of essence of Dittany, and then a wrap to prevent irritation. She would’ve done it faster, but because they were conversating she moved a bit slower than usual.

“How bad is it doc?” George joked, as she dropped the Dittany onto his skin.

“Horrible, I think you’ll need extensive care after this one.” She played along, now wrapping his wounds with medical tape.

“I don’t know doc, I think a kiss on the cheek would do it for me.” He was feeling bold, but he wasn’t expecting her to actually kiss his cheek.

“There, all better?” Y/n asked, her voice was almost teasing. George nodded dopily before allowing the next person to be healed.

“Why don’t they just get together already.” Ginny asked her brothers, Harry, Hermione, and Neville, watching Y/n start her healing routine. Neville looked shocked.

“Together? My sister?” Neville questioned, he noticed they were friends now, but it went completely over his head that they liked each other.

“They flirt with each other all of the time,” Ginny chuckled, and the others agreed.

“It’s sickening.” Ron added. “George reckons she doesn’t like him back. That’s why he’s so afraid.”

“Y/n doesn’t really…date. At least from what I’ve seen.” Neville said, now keeping his eyes on the pair, he looked away for a split second.

“Are you sure about that?” Fred asked, as he looked at his flustered brother. Y/n had just kissed George on the cheek.

Neville was very unsure.

6, The beginning of the war, 1997

After the twins dropped out of school Y/n hadn’t seen much of them until she joined the Order of the Phoenix as a healer after she graduated. Her parents were a part of the original Order, it didn’t come as a surprise to anyone when she happily accepted the invitation.

George had long forgotten about his crush on Y/n, thinking about her from time to time– it’d been over a year since he’d last seen her. Until he saw her at one of the Order meetings for the first time. All of his feelings came flooding back. She looked older, her face had matured, and somehow she was even more beautiful than he remembered. Her head was tilted back as she laughed with Tonks while they waited for the meeting to begin.

After the meeting concluded, they had a short conversation catching up on their time spent apart. “Longbottom, long time no see.” He cheekily said.

“Hello, George.” She chuckled. “How have you been? I hear you’re a successful business owner with Fred. I knew you could make it out of selling from your trunks in the corridors of Hogwarts.”

During their years at Hogwarts, George, and Fred sold their products from their dorms, small things like their canary creams. Y/n was the only Prefect that let them off with a warning every single time they were caught.

George chuckled. “Yes, have you been? I would’ve seen you if you had.”

“I have.” Y/n nodded, George was surprised, he greets every single one of his customers, he would’ve known if Y/n Longbottom walked into his store, in fact he would’ve been ecstatic to see her.

“You have? Perhaps you walked in when I was on break. Trust me, I would’ve known if you were in my shop.” George seriously said, but Y/n laughed, making George’s heart swell, it was a sound he hadn’t heard in forever.

“Fred greeted me when I walked in, so perhaps you are right. I was only there for a few minutes, otherwise I would’ve been late for my shift at St. Mungos. Very impressive what you two have done with the shop.” She informed him. George groaned, having missed her by a few minutes, he would’ve loved to see her sooner than he had now.”Congratulations.”

“You too, you’ve always wanted to work at St. Mungos.” Y/n was taken aback that he remembered such a small detail about her.

“Thank you.” She smiled, before catching a glimpse of the time. Her smile dropped. “I’m so sorry. I have a shift at the hospital now. I would love to stay and chat, but I have to go. I'll see you next time.” She smiled, and apparated away with a pop.

George was left alone; he couldn't even say goodbye. Fred, and Tonks watched with amusement written all over their faces. “He still has a crush on her?” Tonks remembered in 12 Grimmauld Place, the other teenagers would tease George about his crush on the girl all of the time. Fred nodded.

“Oh he’s in love.”

That was two weeks ago. It was July 27, and tonight they were transferring Harry to the Burrow. Y/n was a stand on healer, in case anything happened. She was to wait at the burrow for the others with her remedies, and potions for any injuries that might have occurred during the transportation.

Y/n hadn’t seen George since the meeting, but she was having a deep conversation with his mother as they waited for the others to come to the rendezvous point. Mrs. Weasley, and Ginny were nervous. So was Y/n, the anxious air engulfed the room, so much so that after her conversation with Mrs. Weasley Y/n found herself on the front porch.

The groups were late now, and Y/n was starting to worry. She looked up at the night sky if it were under different circumstances she would’ve thought the summer night to be beautiful, and calming, the way the crickets chirped, and the wind moved the grass.

The calming sounds broke when the sound of the barrier being broken was heard. One of the pairs had arrived. Ginny was bolting out of the door, and running towards the approaching pair, it was Hagrid, and the real Harry. Y/n let out a small sigh of relief, however that was still six other groups left unaccounted for, one of them being George.

“Harry! Hagrid!” Mrs. Weasley exclaimed. Y/n stood behind her with Ginny. “What happened, where are the others?”

“Is no one else back?” Harry asked, and Y/n shook her head dimly.

“They were on us from the start, Molly.” Hagrid explained, making Y/n’s stomach churn. “We didn’t stand a chance.”

“Well, thank goodness you two are alright.” Mrs. Weasley said.

“The Death Eaters were waiting for an ambush.”

“Come inside, I’ll have a look at you.” Y/n said, while Ginny walked over to Harry. She figured she would let them come in on their own accord.

They had barely made it a couple of steps towards the house before another pair came through the barrier with a loud whoosh, catching Y/n’s attention.

“Here!” Lupin shouted, holding onto a bloodied Harry, transforming into one of the twins, not just one of the twins, George.

Y/n went straight into healer mode, immediately rushing over to take the other arm of George to act as another crutch, although she wasn’t of much help due to Harry beating her to it. “Quick! Into the house.” Instead of waiting around, Y/n rushed into the house to grab her potions, and healing supplies.

“Oh, my boy…” Mrs. Weasley said, making room for him on the couch. Y/n grabbed her wound-cleaning, blood replenishing potion, and calming draught for George,ignoring the ruckus from Lupin, and Harry. If it were anyone else she would have remained calm, but she was nervous having to care for George. Mrs. Weasley was hunched over George, but made room for Y/n once she saw her making her way over.

Y/n placed all of her potions down. “Mrs. Weasley, could you please get me a warm damp towel?” Mrs. Weasley nodded, and made her way to the kitchen. “George, can you open your eyes, I need to see if–”

George’s eyes opened as soon as she asked. “You’re beautiful.” He abruptly said.

“You must be concussed…” She concluded, her wand was dimly lit. “Follow my wand please.” George did as she asked perfectly, meaning he shouldn’t have been concussed.

“I mean it.” George whispered, he had just almost died, and all he could think about is how he never asked out the woman he loved, out of fear.

Y/n shushed him, her cheeks pink. “Let me care for you, and when you’re all better you can tell me all about it.” She grabbed her calming draught, and poured a bit into a small cup. “Drink this.”

George drank it down with a big gulp, immediately feeling lighter, his tense body releasing. “This might sting just a bit.” She whispered, gently wiping away the excess blood from the side of his head. Her expression went even more serious when she realised George no longer had an ear. Still, he inspected her while she worked. She dropped a couple of drops of her wound-cleaning potion onto his wound. He winced. “Sorry, I know. I know.” She could feel the eyes boring into her now that more of the others had begun to arrive.

She added the blood replenishing potion before sealing his wounds. “Vulnera Sanentur…Vulnera Sanentur…” She waved her wand around his head. Fred now kneeled beside Y/n while she cleaned up her supplies. She stepped away to give the brothers some space, and to grab her wraps to wrap his head.

“How are you feeling, Georgie?” Fred asked. He still had a lot of blood in his hair, and on the side of his face.

“Saint-like.” George answered.

“Come again?” Fred confusedly requested.

“Saint-like. I’m holey, Fred. Get it? I’m holey?”

Fred shook his head, and smiled. “The whole wide world of ear related humor, and you go with, I’m holey. It’s pathetic.”

“Reckon I’m still better looking than you.” George chuckled, and Y/n came back around with the wraps, and another wet towel to clean the rest of his blood. Y/n kneeled beside Fred, and from behind her heard:

“Mad-Eye’s dead.” Bill Weasley announced. “Mundungus took one look at Voldemort and disapparated.

While they grieved, Y/n continued her job. Moody was a kind man, but a man Y/n hardly knew. She cleaned the rest of the blood off of George’s neck, and head. “Now that I’m all better, can I tell you how beautiful I think you are now?” George whispered.

“You’re still in a daze, and medicated up. I doubt you’re not kidding me right now, Weasley.” She said, but a small part of her hope he was being serious.

“I’m serious. I’ve had a crush on you since my fifth-year.” George confessed in a low voice.

Y/n paused, before continuing to wipe the blood off of his skin. “Mrs. Weasley, he’ll need a change of clothes.” Mrs. Weasley nodded, and walked up the stairs. She began to wrap his head.

“Let me take you out on a date.” George asked, lifting his head slightly off of the pillow so she could wrap his head.

“A date?” Y/n chuckled, but continued. “Where too?”

The others shamelessly watched while the two flirted. Ginny, and the trio sharing cheeky glances.

“Anywhere you want.” Y/n let his head down.

“Anywhere?” Y/n confirmed.

“Anywhere.” George nodded, although he was in pain, and a bit dazed, he knew he wanted this more than anything.

“It took you almost dying to confess your feelings to me all of these years?” Y/n asked, realising how serious George was.

George smiled. “Sounds about right.”

“Alright, how about the Saturday after the next? If my calculations are correct, your ear should be mostly healed by then.” Y/n suggested.

“Sounds like a plan, doc. But I think I’ll be fully healed if you kiss me right now.” George tried his luck, and smiled when Y/n leaned in.

Y/n paused, her lips practically brushing against his. “Later, not in front of everyone.” She pulled away with a proud teasing smile. “You’re crazy, asking me to do such a thing in front of your family.” She chuckled.

“Crazy for you.” He whispered.

“You sap.”

#george wealsey x reader #george weasley #harry potter #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #hp #hp fanfic

433 notes · View notes

kookie-doughs · 2 months ago

Text

What's Wrong With The Slytherins?

Slytherin Gang X Reader

-Y/N L/N accidentally gets invited in a group chat.

Chapter 2: Don't Skip Classes

"Hurry up, Riddle," Draco drawled, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. "If your Professor Kettleburn reports this to your brother he will have our heads."

Mattheo scowled, muttering under his breath. "Tom was just bluffing, mate. This class is useless."You couldn't help but snort silently.

A gasp escaped your lips as Professor Kettleburn lumbered into the Care of Magical Creatures class, a magnificent Hippogriff gracefully gliding at his side. Its massive wings were folded neatly against its back, its sharp beak tucked into its feathery chest. Unlike the usual snorts and restless prancing of these proud creatures, this Hippogriff moved with a silent elegance, its keen amber eyes surveying the room with quiet dignity.

A wave of awe washed over the students. Whispers erupted, buzzing with excitement and admiration. Even Neville Longbottom, usually as nervous as a Flobberworm, managed a wide-eyed grin. All except, of course, Mattheo Riddle.

He leaned against a tree, arms crossed and brows furrowed, looking like a disgruntled gnome. As the Hippogriff landed with a soft thump, Mattheo muttered under his breath, loud enough for you to catch, "We have a pet Basilisk, that's not exactly amazing."

His voice, though barely audible, seemed to echo in the hushed classroom. You couldn't help but chuckle, surprised by the childishness of his comment. Everyone else was enthralled by the majestic creature, but Mattheo, remained stubbornly unimpressed.

Draco Malfoy, perched beside him, let out a silent snort of laughter. "It's only a few hours without their attention, Mattheo," he whispered, his voice tinged with amusement.

As Professor Kettleburn began his lecture, detailing the history and care of Hippogriffs, you kept stealing glances at Mattheo. He sat hunched over, doodling on a scrap of parchment, not even pretending to listen. Yet, you couldn't help but wonder what was going on in his head.

Stealing one more glance at Mattheo, you whipped your head back towards him, your heart in your throat. To your surprise you meet his eyes as he smirk, sending a jolt through you that made your face flush hotter than a dragon's breath. Scrambling, you turned your attention back to Professor Kettleburn, desperately trying to regain your composure. The pounding in your chest was audible and deafening.

Suddenly, Professor Kettleburn's voice boomed, jolting you from your flustered state. "Potter! Would you come up here and show the class how to properly approach a Hippogriff?"

Harry, as pale as a mooncalf, stumbled to his feet. His hands trembled as he extended them towards the majestic creature, bowing his head in hesitant respect. The Hippogriff, surprisingly placid, lowered its head in response, allowing Harry to gently touch its feathered beak. A wave of nervous laughter rippled through the classroom, replaced by cheers when Harry successfully navigated the delicate dance of greeting.

Draco, however, couldn't help but interject. "Are you scared of that thing, Potter?" he sneered, sauntering towards Harry. His voice dripping with disdain, he slowly approached the Hippogriff, a mocking swagger in his step.

Your breath hitched. You watched, wide-eyed, as the Hippogriff, normally calm and accepting, suddenly raised its massive claw, its amber eyes flashing with a hint of danger. Draco, oblivious to the shift in mood, continued his arrogant march.

In that split second, time seemed to slow. You knew you had to act, and fast. You pushed yourself through the crowd, shoving students aside until you reached Draco. Grabbing his hand, you yanked him backwards, pulling him just out of reach of the slashing claw.

You whipped your head back towards Mattheo, your heart in your throat. His smirk, barely there and quick as a flicker, sent a jolt through you that made your face flush hotter than a dragon's breath. Scrambling, you turned your attention back to Professor Kettleburn, desperately trying to regain your composure. The pounding in your chest was audible, a drumbeat against the steady rhythm of the Hippogriff's breath.

Suddenly, Professor Kettleburn's voice boomed, jolting you from your flustered state. "Potter! Would you come up here and show the class how to properly approach a Hippogriff?"

Draco, however, couldn't help but interject. "Are you scared of that thing, Potter?" he sneered, sauntering towards Harry like a peacock preening its feathers. His voice dripping with disdain, he slowly approached the Hippogriff, a mocking swagger in his step.

In that split second, time seemed to slow. You knew you had to act, and fast. With a surge of adrenaline, you pushed yourself through the crowd, shoving students aside until you reached Draco. Grabbing his hand, you yanked him backwards, pulling him just out of reach of the slashing claw.

The air crackled with tension as the Hippogriff's claw scraped harmlessly against the stone floor where Draco had stood moments ago. His eyes widened in a mix of shock and bewilderment, his hand still warm and surprisingly large in yours. The air seemed to hum between you, the silence thick with unspoken emotions.

Draco's eyes met yours, their usual smirk replaced by a flicker of vulnerability. Your face blazed scarlet, the heat spreading from your cheeks to your fingertips where they intertwined with his. The touch was unexpected, electric, and sent a shiver down your spine.

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Taglist?

@gayer-than-the-gayest-gay @starfulani

331 notes · View notes

sweetiecutiedarling · 10 months ago

Text

Neville sighed. “You’re not going to accept my apology, are you?”

“No, you don’t owe me one,” Harry said. He was adamant about that. “You were the best big brother anyone could ask for. I am the one who is sorry.”

“How about this,” Neville said, beginning to fade into the white nothingness that surrounded them. Harry panicked but there was nothing to be done. He was losing Neville again. “If it isn’t my fault, it isn’t your fault either.”

Take Me to Voldemort by SweetieCutieDarling Chapter 58: I Want Him DEAD!

#take me to voldemort #harry potter fanfic #archive of our own #ao3 fanfic #harry and neville are brothers #harry potter #neville longbottom #fanfic update #mild fanfic spoilers

0 notes

agreeewrites · 4 months ago

Note

CONGRATS ON HITTING 1K, you deserve all the love you're getting and more <3333 for your celebration could i get a thousand stitches with bill? Your writing of him has been completely brilliant, i love the way you characterise him <333

hi my darling!!! thank you much!! I'm so grateful you're here and I hope you enjoy 🫶

1000 stitches | B.W.

feat. Bill Weasley x reader

cw: MDNI 18+, injuries and blood, near-death experience, early stages of werewolf!Bill , love confessions

masterlist

The sun crested the horizon, shades of violet, clementine, and rose, and still, Bill and the others hadn't returned from Hogwarts.

The full moon lingered at the edge of the sky, obstinate in its refusal to dip below the trees. You'd begged Bill not to go out while the moon hung bloated in the sky, an unusual, ominous shade of red.

But he'd gone anyways. Which was fair, you supposed; he wasn't yours to order about. You weren't a couple, despite the simmering tension between you, heightened by the deep connection you’d forged through over a decade of friendship and work and suffering and joy.

You'd loved him all your life, and he wouldn't be Bill Weasley, the man that held your heart hostage, if he didn't plunge headlong into danger, especially where his family was concerned.

Always eager for the hunt.

It was Harry, Lupin, and Tonks that arrived back first, bloodied and beaten, singed by the glancing blow of curses.

Molly ran out to them, screaming for her children, but Remus was quick to assuage her.

“They're right behind us—Molly, you must—Molly listen to me,” Remus snapped, shaking her gently. “Ron and Ginny are fine, but Bill—Greyback got a hold of him.”

You clutched the rusted porch railing of the safe house, limbs going numb as the blood drained from your brain.

“He's alive, but barely,” Remus continued, keeping Molly upright by sheer force of will. “And we don't know if he was—”

“Bitten,” you finished, your voice little more than a whimper. Remus looked up at you, nodding solemnly.

He looked like he was going to say something further, when the others suddenly apparated into the clearing. Ginny ran straight into the house, shouting for the medic assigned to the safe house. Ron and Neville held a body between them, the figure limp as a freshly killed stag and twice as bloody.

Bill.

Your ears began to ring, a monotonous, consuming sound, drowning out all of the shouting. You couldn't breathe.

Was he breathing?

You took a sip of air, lungs burning. You'd breathe for him.

Remus grabbed hold of Molly, keeping her out of the way as they carried Bill into the house. Up the stairs and towards you, five steps away, three, one—Ron caught your eye as they passed, looking for too guilty for a boy of only 18, but he quickly looked away, struggling under the weight of his much larger brother.

More members of the Order ran out to help carry him, relieving the boys of the burden, and you could only stand there, staring down at the twin smears of blood where Bill's feet had dragged across the threshold. Staining the stone forever.

Tonks was speaking to you, her hands on your shoulders, but you couldn't hear her, could only stare at the red, red, so much red. Too much red. How could he have anything left?

“We need more hands!” You heard someone call, the words filtering in through the din in your mind.

Hands, hands. You had hands, you could help.

“Tonks—”

“I don't think that's a good idea—”

“We don't have a choice,” Remus said, gently nudging Tonks aside and cupping your face. You forced your eyes to focus on his forehead, his crooked nose, his scars, his eyes. “Can you do this?” Remus asked.

“I-I can,” you affirmed, your voice sounding far away. Like someone else had spoken through your mouth.

“Good, let's go.”

It took more than five hours to stitch all of Bill's wounds. He'd been savaged, butchered, by Greyback. Almost unrecognizable under the swelling and bruising and gore.

The fact that he survived was nothing short of a miracle.

No one was sure if he'd been bitten. There was one wound on his right thigh that looked suspicious to Remus, but Bill was in too fragile a state for them to test anything.

So you waited, and waited, and waited. Four days of burning fever. Four days of changing head-to-toe bandages. Four days of ladling broth between his chapped lips. Four days of praying to anyone that would listen to spare him. To bring him back to you.

You knew he'd be different, no one suffered an attack like that and remained the same, but you knew that you'd love him anyways. The scars on his skin would pale in comparison to the scars left on his psyche, and you would find whatever strength you needed to help him through it.

You'd stitch him together with your own muscle and bone if you needed to.

On the fifth day, many of his wounds had finally healed down to pearlescent, puffy scars thanks to the medics magic. Deep gauges littered his torso and arms, creating new dips and valleys along the lean muscles of his body, a topographical map you could study for eons. The slashes across his face was healing better than anyone dared hoped, and he finally was beginning to look like Bill again.

But the wound on his thigh remained stubborn, pulpy as rotten fruit and refusing to knit together, growing more putrid the more magic that was thrown at it.

An uneasyness settled over the house. No longer a question of will he wake up, but what will wake up.

On the seventh day, Bill woke up screaming.

You were in the kitchen, helping Neville prepare the evening meal, when a roar shook the cedar bones of the old house.

You dropped the dish in your hands with a crash, roast and root vegetables exploding all over the grubby tile floor, and leapt over it, flying up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

Tonks caught you at the end of the hall, grabbing you by the arms. “He's asking for you, but you have to—y/n, listen to me,” she snapped, and you stilled, coiled and ready to flee. “You have to be careful—that kind of trauma…he might not be the Bill you love.”

“I don't care.” You yanked free from her hold and dashed down the hallway. You burst into the room Bill was being kept in, a white-washed guest room on the quieter, darker end of the house, and found Ron, Arthur, and Remus desperately trying to restrain a frantic Bill on the bed.

“Where is she?” He bellowed.

You shoved Ron aside and flung your arms around Bill's neck, throwing your weight on him in the hopes of keeping him down.

“I'm here, I'm right here,” you soothed, not bothering to hold back the tears of relief streaming down your face and into his ruddy hair.

He groaned low in his chest, nuzzling into the crook of your neck and heaving a deep breath. His knotted muscles immediately went lax, and he looped an arm around your waist, hauling you into the bed with him. You were shocked at how much strength he still had after a week of bed rest.

“There you are,” he whispered, a throaty purr against your pulse. He drew another deep inhale, nose pressed against your jugular, and you suppressed a shiver.

“Are you alright? You didn't tear anything open—”

“Don't care,” he said, his lips charting a scalding path up your neck, days of stubble scratching mercilessly against the tender skin.

“Bill,” you argued, a fire sparking in your lower belly. You tried to push back a bit from his hold so you could inspect his bandages, could escape the intoxicating effect of his newfound affection. His grip tightened, bordering on painful, and a rumble resounded from the barrel of his chest. Something carnal, possessive, and you immediately dissolved back into his arms. Helpless to resist him.

“A ripped stitch isn't going to kill me,” he mumbled into the downy space behind your ear, his voice so much softer than whatever beast had been roused moments ago.

“Bill, we really need to do a full examination,” Remus interrupted gently. “What you've gone through—”

“It can wait,” Bill snarled, glaring at Remus over your shoulder. “Now get the fuck out.”

You gasped, shocked by his crude language, the aggressive edge to his voice. Bill was hardly the delicate sort, but you'd never seen him be outright hostile. Especially not towards his friends and family.

“Bill,” Remus said, hardening his voice.

“Please, just let them check you,” you whispered, stroking his cheek. “It'll give me and your family peace of mind.”

His eyes fluttered closed as you soothed him, his breathing leveling out. From bestial to docile in the span of a few heartbeats. “Only if you stay,” he answered finally, opening his eyes to look at you.

“I'm not going anywhere,” you assured, and he finally let you untangle yourself.

The medic came in first, checking all of his stitches and his vitals. Besides the wound on his leg, he was mostly healed, just some soreness and a slightly elevated temperature and heart rate.

His hand only left your body when the doctor needed it for something, otherwise he maintained contact through the entire examination.

You weren't sure what it meant, this sudden clinginess. If it was the trauma of almost dying, a head injury making him forget you weren't actually together, or something…else.

His family came in next, a cacophonous, emotional ordeal that made your heart ache with relief. With them, he seemed more like himself; the good-natured, charismatic man you'd fallen in love with, and some of your uncertainty ebbed.

You hadn't hated the intensity from earlier though, quite the opposite, actually. You just wished you knew what caused it, and why you.

Eventually, Bill declared that he wanted to properly shower, and everyone filed out to give him some privacy. When you stood to leave though, his hand tightened around your wrist.

“Don't go,” he said, drawing you back towards him. He was standing, propped against the bedframe for support.

“But you said you wanted to shower?” You blinked up at him, completely perplexed by this dramatic shift in his demeanor. Bill had never been very physical with you, besides platonic hugs and shoulder bumps.

“Help me,” he murmured, tilting your chin up.

Your heart stopped. “W-what?”

“Are you going to make me beg?” His breath fanned across your lips, balmy and disorienting. Headier than any hit you'd taken from a roll or a pipe.

“Bill, we aren't…together,” you argued weakly, a rabbit negotiating the terms of its release from the jaws of a catamount.

“Something I'd like to remedy, if you'll have me.” His other hand ensnared your waist, pulling your body flush to his.

“I'm not sure you're thinking clearly—” you tried to take a step back, but his grip turned to iron.

“Oh, I am. For probably the first fucking time,” he growled, patience wearing thin. “I’ve loved you for ten fucking years, and I almost lost you. So forgive me, darling, I will not be letting you go again.”

You liquified, muscles and bone turning to simpering goo in his arms. You didn't care if it was the pain medicine, or a head injury, or lycanthropy. All you'd ever wanted was to hear those three little words.

“I love you too,” you breathed, and he smiled, bumping his nose against yours before dragging it down your cheek, his hair tickling your lips.

“I know,” he hummed, the hot muscle of his tongue laving over the pulse point beneath your ear. “I can smell it on you.”

You gasped, arousal hitting you like a clap of thunder, your thighs squeezing together against your blooming cunt.

He chuckled, the sound low and viscerally pleased. “Can smell that too, baby. Little heart’s racin’ like a rabbit.”

Oh, fuck. You swallowed thickly, throat closing as fear pumped through your blood, mixing into a strange ichor with the ever-present desire for him.

“You're trembling again,” he said, softening a bit as he pulled back to look you in the eyes. “Are you afraid of me?”

You shook your head. “Should I be?”

“No, love. Of course not. I'm still me.” He smoothed the hair from your forehead, palming the side of your skull with his long-fingered hand. “But Remus should be if he tries to get between us again.”

A laugh bubbled up before you could stop it, inundated with both dread and delight.

He leaned down, catching your laughter with a lissome press of his lips. The last of your reservation dissipated, dripping out between your thighs as the kiss deepened. His lips were pillowy, tongue tinged with iron and herbs, you leaned into his embrace, content to let him devour you whole.

#bill weasley #harry potter fanfiction #bill weasley fic #bill weasley x reader #bill weasley x you #the weasleys #bill weasley fanfiction #bill weasley imagine #bill weasley smut #harry potter #the weasley family #harry potter fandom #weasley family #hp fanfic #hp fandom #bill Weasley oneshot #bill Weasley drabble #harry potter fanfic

444 notes · View notes

phas3d · 11 months ago

Note

Hello love<33 i saw ur requests were open if it hasn't been done before can i request a Potter! Reader x Slytherin boys like the reader is Harry's twin sister?

Absolutely inlove with your writing btw🫶🫶

Potter!Reader || Slytherin Boys

type :: fluff

tw/cw :: abuse mention (tom, mattheo)

contains :: draco, tom, mattheo, theodore, lorenzo

notes :: i love this idea so much, i didn't think it would be this fun to write for - also i know neville technically killed voldemort BUT, just go along with me when i say harry killed voldemort

DRACO MALFOY

Getting a crush on someone was already hard enough for Draco to do

To be able to look past someone's flaws and finally see the beauty inside of someone

But all of that was quickly ruined once he found out you weren't just Harry Potter's sibling but his TWIN?

He genuinely gets so upset and angry not only at you but himself

He's not sure how to handle this information

But at the end, he decides that he can't stand the idea of dating Harry Potter's twin and possibly growing to be Harry Potter's brother-in-law

So he tries to avoid you at all times

But he can't, his body just won't allow him

And also, you're really good at finding him

In the end, he learns to accept it but Harry and Draco still bicker and fight

Even when you guys are 20+ years old, they still fight like siblings - which is actually perfect since they're brothers in law now

TOM RIDDLE

After Harry defeated his father, aka Voldemort, and brought "peace" to the world - he's hated his guts

Because although Voldemort was a mass murder, genocide supporter, blood racist, classist, backstabbing, asshole... That was still Tom's dad

But even then, Voldemort wasn't a great father. He was actually the worst father to ever live. For all of Tom's childhood, he was brain washed and tortured to believe his father was amazing, and sadly it worked on him

So finding out that his s/o, which was already an EXTREMELY rare sight since he can't tolerate anyone, was Harry Potter's twin....

Oh, he goes fucking insane and runs away to the forbidden forrest to "process" all of his emotions (he kills almost every animal in there out of pure strength)

Falling for the person who's related to your father's killer is not easy to handle

So,,, honestly I think Tom would break up with you and never give you a shot again

But, he still owns you - he just can't be with you duhhh

If you ever try to move on or get a new boyfriend, he simply make them "disappear"

It makes you isolate yourself from the dating world - but thank god Tom is there to offer to be fwb!

(this was his plan all along. he will never stop loving you but he doesn't have the guts to fully commit to a relationship anyways but he still wants you - so fwb is the easiest solution for him to avoid the guilt of actually dating you whilst still getting to own you in some way)

MATTHEO RIDDLE

He's the exact opposite of Tom, he actually really respects and likes Harry

After Harry killed Voldemort, he felt so free. It was like Harry got rid of the shackle that was keeping him down for so long

Unlike Tom, Mattheo always knew that what their father was doing was wrong and cruel - but he was forced to go along with the family's plans because he'd be punished if he didn't

Not only that, Mattheo and Harry both play Quidditch and are good rivals - he loves the competition

So he actually gets along fine with Harry

When he finds out you two are actually TWINS he's so shocked like omg

He wonders what would have happened if you ate Harry while in the womb or smth

And he also wonders why you and Harry aren't exactly identical (you are identical... mattheo just doesn't understand why harry has glasses and you don't....)

Doesn't mind bringing Harry on a couple of dates - But when Harry does come... it's basically like you're third wheeling

Your cute dates are ruined because these two dumbass men decide to do stupid stuff

Like for example, a cute date of mini golfing got ruined because Harry and Mattheo decided to see who could chuck their golf ball the farthest

They ended up breaking multiple windows...

Or when Mattheo took you out to go ice skating but it got ruined because fucking Harry surprised Mattheo with hockey gear

The two ended up playing hockey,,,, just a 1v1,,,, and crashed into so many bystanders that they just shut down the rink

They are now brothers for life... you must deal with this

THEODORE NOTT

When he finds out you're twins, he takes such a big sigh of relief

"Oh my gosh, that why you guys always hang out... I thought you might have been dating."

Instantly, you want to vomit in your mouth

Theo has little to no history with Harry, besides bullying Harry during their first few years at Hogwarts

But Theo was never a good bully... especially when he was younger

Because he was still learning English and had the THICKEST Italian accent that you barely understood him

One time in their 2nd year, Theo came up to Harry and insulted his nerdy glasses

But Harry simply tilted his head, "Sorry, no espanol."

From that day, it's a strong inside joke between all the Slytherin boys and Theo can never escape it

Harry's unintentional roast made Theo study English 10x times harder than he ever did before

So he's kinda grateful to him in a way but he does wanna get back at him

He's super chill around Harry and the two get along fine and dandy but nothing too special

They both respect each other a lot actually and don't cross any boundaries with each other

Since they're kinda similar actually: quidditch players, pull tons of bitches, decently smart, and "foreign" in some way

Basically: coolest in laws ever

LORENZO BERKSHIRE

Oh my fucking god these two suck each other dicks

The amount of glazing they do for each other is CRAZYYY

When Enzo finds out you're twins with Harry - he's so happy because Harry and Enzo are actually really cool with each other

They both play quidditch together sometimes, play the same games, and they love the same shows

You basically lose your boyfriend... to your brother

Everywhere you two go,,, Harry is invited against your will

Going to watch a movie? Harry and Enzo are gonna share a blanket and leave you in the cold

Going to an arcade? Harry and Enzo will play every single game against each other and even take selfies of their wins

Fuck, even going shopping, the two banter and chat while you try on clothes

One time they got bored of waiting for you to try stuff on so they LEFT YOU and went to go get MATCHING T-SHIRTS???!?!??!?!?!???

Of course,,, you and Enzo do get alone time - some times

But you honestly love seeing how strong Enzo and Harry's bond is because it makes you happy that you picked the perfect boyfriend for your family

It's even better when Harry get his yearly girlfriend (that he will eventually leave heart broken)

So now you can go on double dates!!!

And hopefully the girl that Harry is with is cool, so that way you can also share a strong bond just like Enzo and Harry

But you can't get too attached.... your brother is a man-whore after all... 😞

#slytherin boys #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #lorenzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire x reader #harry potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter headcanon #harry potter sister #slytherin #slytherin headcanons #slytherin x reader

1K notes · View notes

yasministration · 1 month ago

Note

love the concussions n interruptions series!! was wondering how did each friend group react to the relationship :3

pansy knew... she knew every single step of the way. she knew when you had a week long crush on harry in third year after watching slytherin play a game against gryffindor for the first time. she knew that despite being there to support your friends, you were staring at harry potter from the game's start to finish. that entire week, you couldn't help yourself from staring a little too long in shared classes, but you eventually shook it off. pansy made fun of you for it the entire time, and when you finally came running to her that harry potter kissed you three years after that, it was the first thing she referred back to. 'i guess that crush never really went away, did it?' she asked, and you felt your face heat up 'pansy, you know that's not what happened. we've gotten close' and she'd roll her eyes a little too hard and say 'i know, i know'

but the rest of the friend group found out by mistake.

when you came back from another date with him, after he kissed you too lovingly - in a way that your lips would remember forever. you were giddy, obviously. the boy you liked had feelings for you too, and he spent every moment around you showing you. he even smiled at you in the hallways, and you returned the smile, neither of your friends noticing anything. it wasn't that you didn't want them to know, it was just so new. so when you returned to the common room after that date, smiling so hard your cheeks hurt, pansy couldn't help but ask 'what has he done now?'

'pansy, he's such a good kisser' you'd say, sinking into the couch next to her. unanimously, draco, theo and blaise would all straighten up, heads snapping towards you like protective older brothers. 'who's this?' you went silent, face falling as you thought up an excuse, but pansy was quick to let them know exactly who had kissed you.

the slytherin common room was chaos that night. blaise had leaned back in his spot and muttered 'yeah, i had a feeling something was going on between you', while draco and theo went insane over it. it was a surprise, but who were they to tell you who you could and couldn't date? (unless it was mclaggen). they upped the rivalry with your new boyfriend from then, testing his patience, seeing how much he could take before snapping. he never did, only ever finding your eyes in the room and smiling at the apologetic look on your face. you'd make it up to him with kisses later, so it would all be okay.

harry began catching feelings for you a few months before he finally made his move, and he was conflicted. he knew about the drama his parents had with many slytherins during their time at hogwarts. he was warned about them - not in a 'stay away at all costs' way, but in a 'be careful who you become friends with' way. it certainly didn't help that ron had such a deeply rooted hatred for slytherins, or that he had some sort of rivalry against some of your best friends.

so he went back to his most trusted friend, and waited until everyone else had gone up to the common room to tell neville about everything. it felt good to get things off his chest, to put it out in the open instead of keeping it secret. and neville understood, said he could see you both as a couple. it wasn't difficult to notice the chemistry you had from the friendship you had built the past couple of months. hermione was the next to know - not because he told her but because she was so observant. she noticed the way you and harry smiled at each other across the classroom, or how your sarcastic comment when you were paired together in potions was only half-hearted. she saw the way he waited for you to pack your things up after class, and you placed a hand over his forearm as a silent goodbye before leaving.

but above all that, she watched you in the corner of the library, with matching smiles on your faces as you spoke softly, only pretending to study. she had been looking for a quiet space to study, but found something so much better. hermione couldn't help the smile on her face when harry shuffled closer to you, and your faces were only inches away from each other, and she didn't feel guilty for watching as you cupped his face in your hands, caressing his soft skin before harry pushed his lips against yours, glasses immediately going crooked on his face. you kissed for a long moment, giggling when the kiss broke, and hermione decided to walk away then.

harry caught the movement in the corner of his eye, recognising the curly hair that disappeared behind a bookshelf. he confronted her that night, and she just said in a comforting voice 'if you don't want me to have seen anything, then i didn't'. harry smiled, telling her he was just worried what ron would think.

'what i would think about what?' harry laughed. of course this would happen. but he still turned to look at the ginger boy who sat down next to them, saying 'my girlfriend.'

it was a guessing game from there. ron thought up a list of every girl in the castle he wouldn't approve of harry dating and began naming them. harry was oddly comforted when your name didn't pop up in the list, and even happier when seamus, lavender and dean joined in the little game, until they ran out of names. when he finally told them, they had all made a little noise of surprise. it was silent until lavender said 'oh yeah, i really don't mind y/n, she always gossips with us in the bathroom between lessons and she's pretty funny. also, gorgeous.'

harry was relieved to know that lavender didn't have any dirty stories on you, instead giving him her word of approval. 'yeah,' added ron 'i thought it was going to be goyle or something' and the entire group had laughed.

the next day, harry found you in the courtyard, and you had grinned widely at the sight of him, pansy sitting across from you. you extended an arm towards him, and he immediately brought you in a hug, kissing you softly on the lips as he pulled away. pansy's eyes widened, and your breath hitched in your throat at the bold move. you felt eyes following you from across the courtyard, but harry kept his hands on your waist as he told you that his friends knew. you let out a relieved sigh and brought your boyfriend into another hug, but in that moment, draco, theo and blaise decided to join you.

the three of them immediately through sarcastic comments his way, but harry somehow knew it didn't mean anything bad. if anything, it was only the start of something good.

#mina talks #concussions and interruptions au #harry potter fandom #harry potter #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter oneshot #harry potter x reader #harry james potter #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x you

226 notes · View notes

sleep-i-ness · 5 months ago

Text

Too Little, Too Late (Draco Malfoy x Reader)

Synopsis: Covering for Daphne proves to be the final straw in your friendship with Draco Malfoy

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST | GENERAL MASTERLIST

You ducked under the boughs of the tree, chest heaving, eyes wide as you spotted them. “He’s coming. Daphne, he’s coming.”

They leapt apart, Daphne cupping Neville’s cheek reassuringly. She stepped back to your side, and you could faintly hear shouts in the distance. If any of the Slytherins were ever to find them together, Neville would be hexed within an inch of his life for sullying a Pureblood witch and Daphne, well, Daphne would be ripped to shreds by her family for not abiding by the expectations for a well-brought-up witch. She should be going for someone like Draco, not Neville, but… the heart wants what the heart wants. You knew a thing or two about that.

“Okay, you two need to split apart; we’ll just have to pretend that it’s Neville and I having some sort of sordid affair by the Lake, okay?”

Neville flushed, eyes darting towards his girlfriend. “Is this-?”

“This is the best option, okay? I’ve thought it through; no one’s going to question why I’m ‘dirtying’,” you made air quotes with your fingers, “myself with a Gryffindor. I don’t have the same family expectations to uphold.”

You glanced at your best friend, who was breathing shakily, face drawn. “Daphne, pull yourself together. You need to look shocked, not like you’re about to be given the Dementor’s Kiss.”

Loud footsteps clattered down the steps to the edge of the bank and you looked up, squeezing tightly onto Daphne’s hand. Reaching out, your fingers brushed Neville’s hand and ignored his flinch. As long as he didn’t say anything, you could make Draco believe this. As you felt Daphne being pulled away from you, you slipped your hand into Neville’s, interlocking your fingers so as to stop his jolt.

“What the hell is going on here?”

You spun around, making eye contact. Draco Lucius Malfoy. Not the head of the Malfoy family, but the unofficial leader of the Slytherin House. Daphne peered out from behind him, giving you a subtle thumbs up.

“Y/N?” Draco murmured, before his eyes hardened, cold and icy as he glared at you. “Are you with Longbottom? That snivelly little Gryffindor?”

You and your brother had grown up as pretty much part of the Pureblood circles, and so clearly Draco expected you to conform to the traditional Pureblood behaviour. Not that you weren’t doing so, but he could sod off with his expectations.

You tried to smile at him, lips twisting into more of a grimace. God, that man’s cheekbones could cut steel. Even when angry, he was incredibly attractive. You had tried to hide these thoughts from Daphne when you’d first developed your crush on him several years ago, but she could read you like a book and had confronted you only days after your realisation.

You gave Draco a scornful look. “What’s it to you?”

Draco stuttered, faltering at the sight of your harsh glare. He ended up with, “you should know better than that.”

And you just rolled your eyes, knowing that was more than enough to set him off.

“Common Room. Now.”

You just raised your eyebrows. “Watch your tone, Malfoy.”

He scowled. Draco knew better than to ask why Daphne was with you, where one of you was found, the other was never far behind. “Come. We need to talk.”

“Maybe I’ll just stay here with Neville and finish up what you rudely interrupted.”

It was only when your name rumbled out of his chest that you decided you weren’t going to argue any longer and dropped Neville’s hand in a flash. You skidded over to him, linking arms with Daphne who gave you an apologetic look. You just shrugged. It wasn’t her fault that Draco was an absolute bellend who had decided that this year you were his favourite punching bag. In the metaphorical sense, that is. He knew better than to even point his wand at you.

It took maybe a generous ten metres, at the point that Draco had decided you were out of Neville’s earshot, before he spun round with a murderous look on his face. “What the hell was that?”

You met his eyes, hating that the dark rage pulsing in them did nothing more than set off a swarm of Pixies in your stomach. And okay, maybe intimidated you a little, but in a hot way. And that was the problem; you should not be finding this so hot right now. Especially with the way his jaw ticked.

“My life, my business.” You stuck your nose in the air and dragged Daphne on, past him. She looked like she’d rather face a Blast-Ended Skrewt than be stuck between the two of you arguing.

It wasn’t an uncommon sight anymore. Daphne seemed to like the idea of you and Draco being the power couple of Hogwarts and had been trying to convince you that he had a soft spot for you. You wished. He’d first seen you as that snotty little girl with pigtails who’d follow him and your brother around and gone where the days where he saw you as an annoying little sister. If that. Now you were just an insolent cockroach under his foot that needed to be stomped upon.

“If you’re going to be dragging your name through the dirt, leave Daphne out of it. You’re ruining her reputation just by interacting with her,” he called after you and you didn’t deign to respond, merely just picking up the pace to get as far away from him as possible before you collapsed from either exhaustion or into tears. You hadn’t decided yet. But you were so tired of this dynamic between you and Draco.

You soon reached the Slytherin Common Room, and you peeled off towards your dorm. Luckily, the boys’ dorms were on the opposite side, so you could hope to avoid Draco for the next… well, however long it took to for him to calm down. You’d use Daphne as a feeler to judge when it was next safe for you to emerge.

“Thanks for coming back with me,” you murmured to Daphne, releasing your clutch on her arm once you reached the safety of your doorway.

Daphne’s jaw dropped. “Uh, no, you are not just shutting me out like that. As if I’d leave you alone after that hell of an afternoon.”

You sighed, opening the door for her, and glancing down the hallway to the Common Room. You weren’t sure what you were looking for, but it certainly wasn’t the sight of Draco staring after you, pink splotches on his cheeks and a foreign flash of emotion in his eyes. And then it was gone, and he sneered.

You raised a hand in response, acknowledging him but not deigning to stoop to his level, and then stepped into your dorm, where you could finally drop the stupid façade. Daphne was by your side in an instant as you sagged, using your hold on the door handle to keep yourself up right.

“I am so sorry, Y/N,” she murmured, ushering you to sit down on your bed, before plonking herself next to you and wrapping her arms around your shoulders. You sighed, leaning into her. It wasn’t her fault and there was no part of you that blamed her, although it would be far easier to than have to come to terms with the fact that Draco Malfoy was just an arse. An arse with a really nice arse. You snorted to yourself.

“It’s not your fault he’s such a prick. I don’t even know what I’ve done this year to set him off,” you moaned, falling against your bedpost with a thump. “It’s not like he’s even my friend at this point.”

Daphne just stared at you, face sagging as her eyebrows drew together gently. “You can’t discard four years of friendship just because Draco’s been in a mood this term.”

��Like he has?” You wrinkled your nose. And then slapped your knees. “Right, enough moping.”

You yanked out the bottle of Firewhisky from under your bed; it had been part of your brother’s stash that he had never intended for you to find or sneak to school. But for moments like this, it was exactly what you needed. Time to drown your despairs.

“To men who appreciate us!”

You clinked glasses, knocking back the whisky with little more than a grimace.

A few rounds later and the two of you were on the carpet in your dorm, looking up at the starry ceiling. You hadn’t even needed to kick out Millie, no doubt she was curled up in her boyfriend’s arms.

“I love him, Y/N. I really do.” As usual, Daphne’s mind had drifted off to Neville and you smiled. They were so sweet together, even if no one else would agree with you.

“I know you do. And he definitely loves you as well.” You were certain on that fact. You’d seen the way he looked at her, even when she wasn’t looking at him, and it made your heart ache for a love like that. Scratch that, it made your heart ache for Draco to look at you that way; not just any man would do.

“And I’ll get Draco to pull his shit together. I swear, the only reason he reacts this much is because he’s mad about you,” she slurred as she gestured wildly.

You laughed. “I appreciate the sentiment, but he won’t. He doesn’t love me.”

You received no response and, when you glance over, Daphne had fallen asleep. She looked so carefree in moments like these, brow smoothed out and features relaxed into a pleasant smile. When she was asleep, she didn’t need to worry about dating someone in secret or the expectations placed on her for being a Pureblood.

Bang. Your musings were interrupted by a loud knock, and you jolted upright, head spinning. Daphne didn’t even stir. Hoping it was just another student stumbling down the corridor, you let the dizzy spell pass as the knocking failed to cease.

Feeling your way past your bed and to the door, you lit your wand with a murmured Lumos. “Who is it?”

If it wasn’t anyone other than Pansy, Tracey or Millie, you were going to hex them. Well, mainly if it was Crabbe or Goyle, no doubt sent out to torment you. Not that you thought that you were still lingering on Draco’s mind, but you also wouldn’t put it past him to send his minions to do the dirty work of pressuring you about your “relationship” with Neville.

“It’s me.”

You sighed at the familiar voice, slipping out the door to talk to him. You were only in your nightwear, but no one would be out to see you at this time of night.

“What the hell do you want, Blaise? Do you know what time it is?”

“You alright?”

You nodded, eyes narrowing. “Why?”

“No, nothing, just Draco came back in a bit of a tantrum, and it doesn’t take a genius to guess who had gotten him so riled up.” Blaise’s mouth tilted up at the end of his sentence and you wondered why you couldn’t find someone like him attractive. Someone kind, objectively hot and a good friend. Not some prickly blonde twat with anger management problems

You snorted. “You know Malfoy. Likes to get himself wound up by whatever I do.”

“And so, the name Neville means nothing to you?”

You blinked at him. And then remembered that you were probably meant to look a little more ashamed than you did and fixed your eyes firmly on the ground.

“Yeah, nice try,” Blaise snorted. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to get myself involved in the situation. I fear both you and Draco equally, but please, for my sake, sort things out with Draco. I really can’t be bothered to hear another rant about you, as much as I love you dearly.”

You shrugged. “Not my problem that he’s so fixated on me.”

“Yes, but it’s also not mine,” Blaise whined, bottom lip jutting out, and you stifled a sudden snort. So much for all the airs he’d been putting on this year now that he was a ‘proper adult’. He was still a petulant child at heart.

And then you sighed. “I’ll… think about it.”

“Thank you,” Blaise pressed a quick kiss to your cheek. “Sleep well, hope you don’t wake up with a horrid hangover.”

You blew a kiss in response and shut the door in his face. By the time you’d gotten back to your bed, Daphne was still snoring away peacefully but had somehow managed to spreadeagle across the entire mattress. You sighed, unable to muster the energy to care enough to move her and decided to just sleep on her bed.

Breakfast the next morning was a frosty affair; you could swear that the room had dropped ten degrees as soon as Draco had entered and set his eyes on you. He’d just sneered, luckily, but had dropped into a seat only two down from where you were sat, Pansy and Daphne acting as barrier. Which sucked, because it meant that you’d inevitably all end up in conversation and then you’d have to deal with him making snide comments all meal.

Was it too much to ask for just a nice, relaxed breakfast, where you could actually enjoy spending time with your friends?

“Would you mind passing me the jam, Daphne?” You smiled at her as she nodded, eyes darting towards Draco and back to you, a tinge of worry in her gaze. You just rolled your eyes in response. He could grow up.

“Looking forward to Potions today?” Blaise slid into the seat opposite you, and you snorted.

“Only if you promise to not fuck up our potion this time.”

“I’ll have you know that you’re very lucky to have me as your partner,” Blaise purred, leaning forward, lips tilting up into a smirk. His hand reached out to stroke your arm, and out of the corner of your eye, Draco’s hand clenched so tightly around his spoon that it turned white.

You just raised an eyebrow, patting his hand. “Trying to hit on me isn’t going to make me forget that you stirred our potion clockwise last time.”

He shrugged. “We didn’t lose any House Points.”

“Yes, because Slughorn loves you. Not that I know why.”

Blaise pouted. You gave him your most unimpressed look, grinning only when he jutted his bottom lip further out.

“Blaise, you look like a petulant child,” Pansy snorted, rolling her eyes when he just gave her the middle finger in response, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Blaise,” you sighed.

“Yes?” He perked up, lips twitching into a smug smile.

“Stop staring at me.”

He frowned, grumbling as he helped himself to a serving of eggs, slopping them onto his plate with enough force to send them skidding into Theo’s lap. Theo stared at his lap in abject horror, taking a second before turning to Blaise, jaw tensed.

“What the fuck, mate.”

You and Daphne dissolved into giggles at the furious glower on Theo’s face and Blaise’s answering squeak. Theo shot the pair of you a look, which did nothing other than make you laugh harder, clutching onto each other to keep yourselves upright.

“Scourgify,” Draco drawled, waving his wand with a lazy flourish before raising an eyebrow and sneering at you and Daphne. You waited until he’d looked away to roll your eyes, not really wanting to cause a scene in the Great Hall. Only Blaise caught your expression, sudden laugh bubbling out of him. Theo turned back to him, lips twitching downwards again.

“Something funny?”

“No, no, sorry about your gown, Theo,” Blaise blinked, eyes darting between you and Theo. “Just… well it’s her fault.”

He pointed to you, and you clasped a hand to your chest, widening your eyes. “Little old me? Whatever have I done?”

“Oh, cut it out,” Blaise huffed a laugh. “This fake innocent act isn’t fooling anyone.”

A mutter from Draco caught your attention and you whirled around, eyes suddenly blazing. “Care to repeat that, Malfoy?”

“Ooh, last name, someone’s in trouble.” Blaise sang, and you gave him a withering look before returning your attention to Draco.

“Well, I was just saying,” he hesitated ever so slightly, something in his eyes faltering slightly, before his sneer settled back onto his face, “that you really can’t even attempt to call yourself innocent when you’ve been sullying yourself with Gryffindor scum like that Longbottom. Who should I expect to find you with next? Weasley? Potter?”

His nose wrinkled and you just laughed, a cold, harsh sound. “I fail to see how my romantic life is any of your business.”

“It is when you’re singlehandedly destroying the reputation of our House.”

You raised an eyebrow, lips pursing. “Now, I think that’s a bit of an exaggeration. Besides, despite what you think, I am not just some common whore.”

“It certainly didn’t seem like that yesterday.”

You scoffed. “What? When you caught me and Neville holding hands? Merlin, what a scandal.”

Draco simply scowled, eyes casting a disparaging onceover accompanied with a wrinkle of his nose, and so you turned away. He wasn’t worth your breath.

You caught a flash in Blaise’s eyes as he watched Draco, something akin to worry, but you brushed it off. It wasn’t your problem. Draco had made the gap between you abundantly clear. You had tried, right at the beginning of the year, when you’d naively assumed that the cold shoulder was Draco having a strop rather than deciding to cut you off out of nowhere. You still weren’t quite sure what you had done, but you had a funny feeling it had something to do with the whispered conversations your parents had been having over summer. Something to “grown-up” for your ears, but you’d read the paper; you knew You-Know-Who was back and that your parents, as untraditional as they were, fell within certain circles. They’d stayed out of one war, and you could only hope that they managed to do the same this time around.

Draco stirred his tea with a mutinous expression, the muscle in his sharp jaw pulsing slightly and you allowed your eyes to rove over his features whilst he was distracted. You didn’t know how you hadn’t seen it before, but he looked off. Sallow skin, dark bags under his eyes, and even his expression seemed half-hearted.

He glanced up, making direct eye contact with you, and you froze, waiting for a sneer, a derisive comment, an eye roll. But he gave you nothing, just looked back down at his tea, and so you looked away. It wasn’t any of your business, whatever was bothering him.

The usual chatter in the Hall died instantly as you stirred your tea, deeply focused on avoiding clinking your teaspoon against the rim. You hadn’t spoken to Malfoy in weeks, determined to diffuse some of the tension in the air by ignoring him steadfastly. It took you a second to notice the unusual hush. And so, you looked up, eyes falling on Katie Bell, that Gryffindor who’d gotten herself cursed. The story had spread round the school like wildfire, as rumours tended to do – you’d learnt that the hard way in fourth year, following a rather disastrous argument after Yule Ball… But that was a matter of the past.

Potter immediately jumped up to accost Bell and you frowned. Poor girl couldn’t catch a break. You couldn’t decide what was worse, Potter or a curse. Especially with that particular brand of Gryffindor determination in his eyes. Despite the still lingering silence in the Hall, you couldn’t make out a word of what they were saying, and you wrinkled your nose.

Katie’s eyes shifted over to your table, face paling and a shudder wracking her body. Your eyes narrowed, head turning to follow her gaze, mirroring Potter. And your eyes caught on Malfoy, his chest heaving. And then he pushed out of his seat without a word, eyes cast down, avoiding any of Pansy’s attempts to stop his flight.

You picked up your tea and attempted to take a sip. But your stomach rolled, and you sighed, before getting up and trailing after him. Merlin, you felt like a lovesick puppy. As much as he’d made it clear you weren’t friends; five years weren’t quite so easily thrown away.

You skidded to a halt in front of the second-floor girls’ bathroom, catching the door before it slammed shut and slipping through the gap. Allowing yourself a moment to breathe before easing yourself fully inside.

Draco’s hands were splayed against the sink, shoulders hunched as he shook silently. You crept forward, not wanting to startle him, not knowing how to announce your presence. And then his head jolted upwards. Burning grey eyes met yours in the mirror and you froze.

“What the hell do you want?” He snarled, venom laced into every word, and you flinched unwillingly.

Somehow you found the strength within you to respond. “I came to check on you.”

“Check on me?” He scoffed, turning round so that his red-rimmed eyes met yours properly. He stalked forward until he was so close you could see every fleck in his irises and feel his breath against your skin. “Why would I want you to check on me? You’re nothing but a pathetic blood-traitor. You don’t even belong in Slytherin. You’re like some mangy stray that’s wandered in, begging for scraps.”

You laughed bitterly. “I’m not going to argue with you. I wanted to offer you comfort.”

He sneered, his expression twisting into something almost feral. “Comfort?” He spat the word as if it were poison. “You think I need comfort from you? Don’t flatter yourself. You can’t even manage a proper spell without fumbling through it like a Mudblood trying to hold a wand for the first time.”

Draco leaned in even closer, eyes narrowing as he snareld. “Let me make this very clear: your sympathy, your comfort, your pathetic little gestures—I don’t want them. You’re barely worth my time as it is, and your attempts to play the hero are as laughable as they are nauseating. Why don’t you go find someone else to ‘save’ with that deluded martyr complex of yours? You’re nothing but a leech, clinging to the coattails of people who actually matter, hoping to be noticed.”

A smirk twisted the corners of his lips as he took in your silence, eyes glinting with sadistic satisfaction. “Or is this just your way of pretending you’re useful, more than just some slut in a skimpy skirt? Please. If you disappeared tomorrow, the only difference would be that the rest of us could finally breathe without your sickening desperation polluting the air. Even as a failure, you’re not half as interesting as you think you are.”

You shook your head, blinking to keep back the traitorous tears. “I’ll leave you in peace then.”

And darted out the door, not allowing him the satisfaction of seeing you cry.

The dark hallway blurred as you darted away from the door, no destination in mind, just moving. Paintings swam in and out of focus as you tried to breathe, forcing your legs to keep on going even whilst you squeezed your eyes shut, so very aware of the water building up behind the floodgates. You would not cry over him, not in public at the very least. He was nothing but a nasty, horrid teenage boy, who’d used every insecurity he’d known about you to cut you to the quick.

You slowed down, taking deep breaths as your hurt morphed into something more akin to anger, a flash of heat shooting through your chest. What an absolute tosser. You hmphed, lifting your nose into the air and rolling your shoulders back before you continued to stride down the corridor. That was it. You were done with Draco Malfoy and his disgusting behaviour.

And then you crashed straight into someone.

You took in the person before you, eyes widening. Potter didn’t even stop, shouting a quick apology before storming on down the corridor.

Shit.

You picked up your pace again, anger wiped clean as you desperately tried to think of where a teacher could be. You needed someone, anyone, because in the state Malfoy was in, you wouldn’t put it past him to kill Potter.

You might not like either of them, but that didn’t mean you wanted to see anyone dead. Or have that on your conscience.

“Professor,” you cried out, breaking out into a run as you saw Snape’s billowing cloak turn round a corner.

You skidded to a halt, narrowly avoiding bumping into him, and looked up at him as he sneered. “Yes, Miss Y/L/N?”

“You need to come quick; it’s Potter and Malfoy.”

Snape sighed, scowl deepening. “Lead the way.”

You scurried ahead, already fearing the worst, already picturing Potter’s body on the floor. You didn’t like him, but that didn’t mean you wished him dead. He was insufferable, filled with some inane sense of righteousness. And Malfoy had made no secret of his hatred for him.

The door to the girls’ bathroom loomed in the distance and you quickened your footsteps, glancing behind to check that Snape was still following. He gave you a nod before you pushed open the door to the bathroom and gasped.

Red.

All you could see was red, swirling on the floor, seeping through the cracks in the grout, spilling out of… of Draco.

You held back the urge to retch. Snape pushed past you, breaking your eye contact, and knelt down besides Malfoy’s still body. Was he dead?

You couldn’t stay here.

The heel of Draco’s shoes clicked against the flagstone, footsteps echoing through the quiet corridors of the dungeons. Even the slightest movement sent a dull throb through his chest where Potter’s curse had torn him apart, ripped him to shreds and left him bleeding on the bathroom floor. He’d given up at that point, wondering what would happen to his family now he’d failed. Just like his father.

And then Professor Snape had come in and she had trailed behind him, eyes wide before darting away like the sight of him bleeding out on the bathroom floor was nothing more than an everyday occurrence.

She hadn’t even come to the Hospital Wing.

He had lain there for days. And in those days, she hadn't visited him once. No letters, nothing left for him at his bedside like in second year, nothing from Blaise or Pansy about her worrying herself sick. Just silence. After all she’d done to force herself into his life, chasing him down in the hallways, pushing for answers, always in sight.

The familiar blank expanse of stone came into sight and Draco paused, leaning against the cool wall, fingers flexing around nothing but air. She was probably in there, chatting and laughing with Blaise or Daphne as if nothing had happened. As if she hadn’t witness him nearly dying on the bathroom floor.

He huffed, fist clenching. And then sighed, murmuring softly to the wall, before rolling his shoulders back and raking a hand through his hair.

The door slid open with a low rumble, the passageway alight with the warm amber glow of the fire and the low hum of conversation. Draco took his time descending down the stairs, forcing away the urge to wince, aware of the eyes on him. All eyes but… He immediately sought her out and there she was, leaning against the far wall, talking quietly to Theo. She didn’t even look up.

His stomach twisted.

Draco clenched his jaw, turning his head away and heading over to where his friends were lounging on the sofas by the fire. Blaise lifted his head, a smirk playing at his lips that did nothing to hide the worry in his dark eyes. “Back already, Malfoy? Didn’t think they’d let you out so soon.”

Draco forced a laugh. “Couldn’t stand another minute of Pomfrey’s hovering.”

Pansy laughed like he’d said something momentously witty, and he fought the urge to sneer, instead slipping into an empty armchair and propping his feet up on the table. His eyes flickered involuntarily to her again, not that he was sure why when she still hadn’t even acknowledged his presence, laughing at something Theo said. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard her laugh properly at something he’d said.

Blaise was still talking, but Draco’s mind had already checked out of the conversation. His gaze kept drifting across the common room, despite his determination to keep his eyes focused on the fire. She was still with Theo, and now she was smiling, a soft, genuine curve of her lips that sent an uncomfortable jolt through his chest.

The fire crackled beside him, warmth filling the icy common room, but he barely felt it. Barely felt anything at all. It was unreasonable, really, how he kept searching for some sign that she’d noticed his presence. Wasn’t this what he’d wanted?

But now, with her decidedly ignoring him, the silence from the place she used to hold was deafening. It gnawed at him, a splinter lodged beneath his skin.

“Oi, Malfoy,” Blaise said, nudging him with the tip of his boot. “You’re zoning out. You sure Pomfrey didn’t knock you around a bit before letting you loose?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Draco muttered, tearing his eyes away from her and forcing a smirk to his lips. “Just wondering if I missed anything interesting while I was gone. Or was it just business as usual? Pansy prattling on about the latest Witch Weekly, and Theo trying to flirt with anyone who breathes?”

“Oi, I don’t flirt,” Theo shot back, but there was a teasing grin in his eyes. “I simply… converse charmingly.”

This time, the laugh that bubbled up from her was louder, her head tilting back just slightly, and Draco’s jaw clenched so tightly he thought his teeth might crack. He tried to drown out the sound by focusing on Blaise, who was already launching into some story about the latest idiocy Crabbe and Goyle had gotten up to, but the words blurred together into meaningless noise.

It was infuriating. She was right there, close enough to touch if he simply got up and crossed the room, but she might as well have been miles away. Was she purposefully keeping her back to him? How childish.

But she’d always come back. Always forgiven everything.

Without thinking, he pushed himself up from the chair, ignoring Blaise’s raised eyebrow and Pansy’s questioning look. “I’m getting something from my dorm,” he muttered, not waiting for a response before turning on his heel and stalking towards the corridor that led to the boys' quarters.

The moment he was out of sight, he slumped against the cold stone wall, head tilted back as he stared into nothing. His hands trembled slightly, fingers twitching with the urge to slam them into the wall, to release the seething frustration boiling under his skin. But all he could do was clench them into fists at his sides, heartbeat pounding in his ears.

What was he expecting?

Taking a steadying breath, Draco rubbed a hand over his face, trying to shove down the swell of emotions that threatened to choke him. He needed to get a grip. Malfoys didn’t wallow; it was beneath them to even deign to interact with those who didn’t strive for their companionship.

He pushed himself off the wall with a bitter shake of his head. If she wanted to pretend he didn’t exist, he could do the same.

Draco was slouched in an armchair by the dying fire, swirling the last remnants of firewhisky in his glass. The amber liquid glimmered faintly in the firelight as he brought it to his lips, relishing the burn that chased away the chill creeping through his bones. He hadn’t meant to linger here, but the solitude had been a welcome relief from the ever-watchful eyes of his housemates, who couldn’t stop asking if he was truly alright.

The sound of the common room door creaking open made him tense. He stayed perfectly still, hoping whoever it was would leave him alone. Footsteps padded softly across the stone floor. He didn’t need to look up to know who it was; he recognized that light tread anywhere. And when he caught a glimpse of a familiar figure moving across the room, her silhouette lit by the dim glow, his heart gave an involuntary jolt.

She didn’t see him at first, her focus entirely on the tables along the far wall. She was searching for something, her movements hurried and distracted. Her hair was tied back messily, a few loose strands falling into her face, and she wore a tired, almost haunted look that only deepened the lines under her eyes.

Draco stayed silent, watching her through hooded eyes. He could see the way her shoulders tensed when she realized they were alone. It was almost pathetic how she tried to act like she hadn’t noticed him, pretending to be engrossed in the titles lining the bookshelf.

Draco’s grip tightened on his glass. He should just let her be.

The silence stretched, taut and uncomfortable, until Draco’s patience snapped. “Looking for something?” he drawled, his voice cutting through the quiet like a knife.

She froze, her fingers tightening on the strap of her bag. “I didn’t realize you were here,” she said, her voice measured, careful. She didn’t look at him as she moved to retrieve her forgotten book from a nearby table.

“Right. You’ve been so good at ignoring me, I almost forgot you existed,” Draco sneered, his words sharper than he intended.

Her eyes finally met his, dark and guarded. “What do you want, Draco?” She sounded exhausted, tired of the fight before it had even begun. Before he’d even got a real reaction out of her.

“Why did you stop?” His voice came out quieter, almost strangled, as he tried to swallow past the lump in his throat. “You were everywhere. Incessant, following me around-” He stopped, the words tangling in his throat.

Her jaw clenched, eyes darkening. And he drank it all in, something leaping in his throat at the sight. “You pushed me away, you shut me out every single time I tried to help. What was I supposed to do, keep throwing myself at a brick wall?”

Draco’s hand clenched around the glass, knuckles turning white. “I didn’t ask for your help.”

“No, you didn’t,” she shot back, before her voice faded off, gaze drifting away from him. “But you didn’t have to treat me like I was worthless for offering it.”

He didn’t know what to say, oddly mesmerised by the shimmering in her eyes, the telltale sign of traitorous tears ready to fall. He had seen her cry before, many a time, over bad grades, over a fight with Pansy, but never because of him.

A muscle twitched in his jaw, but he kept his expression impassive. “I didn’t ask for your pity.”

“Pity?” she repeated, her voice still quiet, barely reaching his ears even in the dead stillness of the common room. She shook her head slowly, a small, bitter smile tugging at her lips. “You really think that’s what it was?”

He turned away. “What else could it have been? You’ve made it clear I’m nothing more than a waste of time to you.”

For a moment, the only sound was the crackle of the fire. Her gaze softened, but only slightly. “You were never a waste of time,” she said, her voice softer now, but still edged with steel. “But I won’t keep throwing myself at someone who’s determined to push everyone away.”

Draco’s fingers clenched into fists at his sides, but he stayed silent, staring into the fire. He couldn’t bring himself to look at her, couldn’t stand the way her eyes seemed to strip him bare, exposing all the things he’d tried so hard to hide.

She sighed, a sound that was more resigned than angry. “Maybe you don’t know what you want, Draco,” she said, her voice a low murmur. “But I do. I can’t... I won’t keep trying to save you when you’re so determined to drown.”

She turned on her heel, her footsteps soft against the stone floor. As she reached the door, Draco finally spoke, his voice so low it was almost a whisper. “Y/N.”

She paused, her hand on the doorknob, but didn’t turn around. “Goodnight, Draco,” she said, her tone distant, polite. And then she was gone, the door closing softly behind her.

Draco stood there for a long moment, staring at the empty space where she had been. The fire crackled weakly behind him, the embers slowly dying out, and the silence that filled the room was heavier than ever.

For a moment, he considered going after her. But instead, he turned back to the fire, letting the flickering glow cast shadows over his face.

#draco malfoy x reader #draco x you #draco x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy x you

245 notes · View notes