#Harry potter gifs

[ankoluvly]

“Want me to teach you?”

𐙚Summary: You’re hogwarts good girl and Mattheo sees you at a party, leading to him teaching you how to give somebody(him) a blowjob.

𐙚Content warning: partying, hints at Mattheo having a crush on reader for awhile, blowjob, overall kind of vanilla, possible dubcon(Both Mattheo and reader are drunk.), Soft Mattheo, again, very vanilla!, 18+ ONLY, MDNI

You stumbled your way into the empty classroom, the other man kicking the door closed with his foot as the two of you’s tongues fought for dominance. Your heart beating unimaginably fast in your chest. You feel his soft grasp on your waist as you two pulled back for air.

A grin formed on his face as he looked at your flush face and already kiss swollen lips. “You have no idea how long i wanted this.” He said before kissing you again, not giving you a chance to respond.

Maybe it was a good thing you came to this party instead of studying tonight..,

You take a deep breath as you walked into the crowded party. Already feeling the blisters forming on your feet from the heels you were wearing, The loud music blaring, you recognized the song as ‘Talk dirty’ by Jason Derulo. You rolled your eyes at the obscene words of the song as you squeezed your way past the groups of dancing students from various houses. Exams were coming up which means you typically wouldn’t be skipping your nightly studying, however tonight was a special exception. After the upcoming exams next week, it’s graduation. These are your final two weeks that you’ll ever be spending here at hogwarts. The thought put a deep, never ending pit into your stomach. Over the years hogwarts has became your home, the thought of not eating breakfast in the great hall while talking with your friends felt like a bizarre, ‘never happening’ thought. You couldn’t imagine not hearing Draco and Harry getting into their daily arguments and scuffles during classes. And most of all, you’ve grown used to these people, especially one certain boy.

You made your way over to the drinks. The thoughts of graduating made your stomach do flips that you desperately wanted to drink away. You combined a bit of each drink, making the drink look a brownish colour. You swished it around in the cup as you stood there. Your eyes sweeping over all the students you could manage to see.

You didn’t see him, the one guy you wanted to see the most. You knew you shouldn’t be too worried about it. He never missed a party, but what if he suddenly wanted to focus on his studies instead? or maybe he saw you and he left? maybe he actually couldn’t stand you?

Before you managed to get too caught up in your thoughts you saw your friend Angelina Johnson coming over, she was wearing a low cut black dress with a deep v neck, her toned, thin body on display. The sweat that formed on her body and the lights from the party together made her skin glow with a variety of colours. You suddenly felt overdressed as you looked down at your own light baby blue silk dress that covered your thighs and stomach.

“Girl! you came, i knew you wouldn’t miss this.” She said as she stumbled over to you, drink in hand.

“Yeah. Just felt weird to stay in my dorm studying all night when i might not even see any of these people again.” You said with a chuckle as you took a sip of your drink. It sent a tingling sensation down your throat and into your body. You haven’t drank in a while, probably since last year’s Christmas party.

“I get it.” Angelina agreed as she topped up her own drink. “I’m glad you came.” She added genuinely with a smile before grabbing your wrist with a grin, “But you are NOT staying here all night.” She added, already pulling you with her, ignoring the other bodies in her way as you muttered apologies when you guys bumped into people. Accidentally knocking some peoples drinks onto the floor, causing you and Angelina to giggle as the two of you rushed further away in the direction of your friends.

You finally reached all your other friends who were further off towards the left of the room. You said hello to your friends before taking another sip of your drink, the overall atmosphere getting to you as you started to enjoy yourself more.

As time went on you started loosening up, drinking more, dancing with your friends. The loud music having a variety of different songs that matched the atmosphere. Other students slowly started leaving to the dorms or washrooms to hook up. Draco was making out with Astoria against the wall like a duo of horny dogs. And that’s where you spotted him.

Mattheo Riddle. The infamous ‘prince’ of Slytherin, son of the dark lord. a bit of a tit, or ‘manwhore’ as your friends call him. Constantly attending parties instead of studying. Constantly having new ‘girlfriends’. A complete asshole to others.

Well atleast that’s how others describe him. they weren’t exactly wrong, but you personally never had any bad experiences with him. He could be tit, yes, but he was never necessarily rude. He was kind of nice in a way. In a charming way. The perfect amount of Goofy, nice, and cold. Not Fred and George Weasley level of goofy. Not Neville Longbottom level of nice. Not Theodore Nott level of cold. The way his hair was always perfectly curled. His perfect white teeth that lit up the room when he smiled. Or maybe it’s just because you’ve had a big, fat, tv school girl type crush on him since second year.

He was leaning against the side of the fire place, Next to Astoria and Draco. He was alone though, no girl practically dry humping his leg this time. From where you stood you had the perfect view of his side profile as he lit up a cigarette, struggling slightly to get the lighter to work properly. His red solo cup resting on the top of the fireplace next to him. It was like everyone else in the room was nonexistent as you admired the man just a mere couple feet away from you. You didn’t realize your staring until you were forced out of your daze with a rough nudge to your shoulder.

“Seriously? daydreaming about the dark lords son?” Angelina joked light-heartedly as she glanced over in Mattheos direction. You blushed as you looked at her and back to Mattheo.

“Uh- No… just noticed him, that’s all.” You brush off. Rubbing your arm uncomfortably with the humid temperature of the party. You couldn’t help but sneak another glance at Mattheo as you swore you saw him look at you out of the corner of your eye.

“Good. You could do so much better than the local slytherin manwhore.” Angelina joked, before standing up from her spot on the little bench, pulling you up with her. “Come on girls! let’s dance instead of sit around like a bunch of bums, last party ‘till graduation.”

And then the night went on. You danced for what felt like forever with your friends. completely forgetting about the fact you’re all going to need to grow up in a couple weeks. That some of you were moving to completely different countries soon after graduation. You all just enjoyed each other’s company, talking to some of the other students that you guys were friends with but not tight nit. Gradually different girls in your friend group dispersed, going off with random guys or their boyfriends to hook up. until eventually it was just you, Angelina, and now Fred.

Fred and Angelina were grinding against each other as you took a quick break from dancing, downing another drink. Your body was feeling lighter now. Angelina was drunk as fuck, Fred almost just as drunk. You stumbled slightly as you made your way back over to the two drunks. Angelina reached out and pulled you closer, “Dance with uss,” She slurred out. You chuckled as you entertained her idea, dancing with them.

You were enjoying yourself before you felt hands firmly plant themselves onto your hips and your back come into contact with a the taller mans upper body. Causing you to freeze slightly. You blushed as you felt them grind themselves against you in sync with your previous dancing. You never did anything like this before so you internally panicked, looking at Angelina for help. But she only grinned, giving you a reassuring nod. you knew what she was saying: ‘Just go with it!’. So you listened, hesitantly moving your hips again. You took it as a good sign to continue when the grip the stranger had on your hips tightened ever so slightly.

You attempted to copy Angelinas movements as you started to feel yourself. That was until you heard a voice, the stranger leaning down to whisper in your ear with an amused tone: “Never knew the ‘hogwarts good girl’ could dance like this.”

Your eyes widened and heart beat picked up as you registered the voice. You knew that voice. “M-Mattheo..?” You stuttered out as you looked up at him wide eyed. Face flushing. His breath smelled heavily of Alcohol and cigarettes. You could faintly smell his go to ‘Dior sauvage’ cologne that you were forced to smell every day in the morning for three years.

“The one and only sweetheart.” He flirted, turning you around so that you face him. You feel his hard-on through his pants. You couldn’t muster a word as you stared in admiration and nervousness. This is your first time being so close to him. “What? cat got your tongue?” He teased with a smirk.

You blinked at his words before shaking your head, “No- no.. just surprised.” You attempted to say more casually, though it instead came out shy and timid. You finally looked down from his face, glancing at the silver chain locket around his neck with the Slytherin snake symbol decorating it, the black t-shirt he was wearing underneath a thin black button up jacket. You flinched lightly as you felt his hands start to run up and down your waist.

He chuckled at your response before asking; “Wanna head off somewhere else?” with a smirk. You knew what he was suggesting. It felt like everything was a dream. But at the same time you didn’t want him to expect too much from you. so you blurted out;

“I never did anything like this before.”

And that leads to your current situation. In a random, empty classroom in a heated make out session with Mattheo. You clench your thighs together in excitement. Your stomach doing little cartwheels as you pulled away again for air. You chuckled nervously as Mattheo started littering kisses along your jaw and down to your neck. You grinned softly, biting your lip as you got your breath back, hand resting on his shoulder as you glanced down at his bundle of curls. You were nervous. You heard stories about what it’s like to do things with him. That he’s rough, sadistic, and so on. All the things you didn’t want for trying anything remotely sexual for the first time, but now you couldn’t care less. perhaps it was just the alcohol in your system messing with your thinking. Either way you couldn’t help the giddy feeling you had while Mattheos’ kisses trailed along your collarbone until it stopped right in the middle. He pulled back and admired your dress, finger tracing along the ruffles at the very bottom of the dress.

“Cute dress,” He mumbled, standing up properly again, making you have to arch your head up to see his face. Your face flushed more -if it was even possible- as you stumbled over your words but eventually got out a small ‘Thank you’.

He grinned as his fingers gently ran across the outline of your face. This wasn’t the Mattheo that you heard others described, and you couldn’t help but notice the softness in his eyes as he admired your appearance. You quickly pushed the thought away the possibility of him liking you, you ‘were just another one of the girls he was gonna hook up with’ you thought. Perhaps the look in his eyes was just from the alcohol in his system. Or maybe he could tell how drunk you were. You only got knocked out of your thoughts when he asked you a question:

“Have you never even given a blowjob before?” Mattheo asks, his hand falling from your face and instead resting on your hips as his other hand rested on the desk next to you.

You glanced down, embarrassed as you bit the inside of your cheek. You felt ridiculous, you were nine-teen fucking years old and you’ve never even sucked a guy off yet, the most basic of stuff. You tried telling yourself that it wasn’t that big of a deal, but you couldn’t deny the pang of embarrassment that you felt when you had sleepovers with your friends and couldn’t relate with anything they said while talking about boys. Mattheo seemed to read your body language though as he chuckled and responded despite your lack of an answer.

“No?” he asked amused, tilting your head up to look at him again. “Want me to teach you?” he asked, grin plastered on his damned, handsome face. You swallowed in anticipation and nerves while nodding.

He wasted no time in picking you up off the table and turning the both of you around, switching the two of you’s places. “Get down on your knees sweetheart,” He told you as he pushed you down gently, his hand on your shoulders. You did as you were told, pushing the skirt of your dress up slightly so that you weren’t pulling it down by your knees.

Mattheo smirked down at you as he took his jacket off, going at a teasingly slow pace as he placed it behind him. With the jacket off you could see the shirt he had underneath. The sleeves stopping just at his elbows, showing off his muscular forearms. Fuck was he hot. You weren’t sure what to do next as he leaned against the desks, hands resting behind him which held him up. He chuckled with an amused grin before saying; “You can undo the belt princess,”

You nodded, reaching up as you attempted to undo his belt. Feeling nervous to touch him, attempting to take the belt off while acting like you’re walking on eggshells. Mattheo struggled to hold back a laugh as he moved his hand to help you take the stupid belt off, slapping your hands away as he undid the belt himself. “You can pull a zipper down at least, right?” He asked with a smirk.

You smiled at his words, rolling your eyes as you mumbled out a yeah. taking the zipper into your fingers as you unzipped his black jeans. looking up at him as he simply nodded. You pulled his pants down slightly, leaving them at the middle of his thighs. You looked up nervously, and feeling slightly awkward as he watched you. Considering the fact you never did this before you were scared to progress. Holding the waistband of his boxers hesitantly. You couldn’t help but bite your lip to hold back a laugh as Mattheos own laugh resounded throughout the empty classroom. His hand gently playing with your hair as he spoke: “You don’t have to be so nervous, just pull the boxers down.” He said amused, causing yourself to let out a laugh, his attitude doing a surprisingly good job at making you feel more comfortable.

You shuffled his boxers down, his cock jumping free from its restraints and up against his clothed stomach. You gulped slightly at his size, about… 7 inches, But… how was that supposed to fit into your mouth?? “Uh… i don’t need to like… take the whole thing?” You asked for reassurance. getting more embarrassed as the absurd question escaped your lips.

You could tell Mattheo was enjoying every minute of this as you looked up at his charming smile as he let out another bark of laughter at your words. “Nah, you don’t gotta worry about that princess,” He said, easily holding eye contact as he played with a strand of hair. “I’ll train you for that another time,” He added. his words laced with arrogant confidence that he would do so. You rolled your eyes at his choice of words and tone, wanting to say something back but biting it back as Mattheo spoke again.

“It’s better if you start off with a little handjob.” Mattheo started, tone calm and patient. “Use your spit as a type of lube and it’ll feel 10 times better for any guy.” He instructed with a grin. You nodded, going to follow his instructions but you couldn’t help the awkward chuckle that escaped you, glancing up at Mattheo as you gripped him in your hand. You could feel how hard he was, his cock twitching slightly at the feeling of your colder hand wrapping firmly around the base. Mattheo too, chuckled. “What? i’m not gonna judge you,” He teased playfully. pulling your hair that out from the front of your face and onto your back.

You just awkwardly grinned before spitting the built up saliva from your mouth onto your hand, wrapping it around Mattheos cock. With an experimental flick of your wrist you spread the spread the spit around the base of his cock. You figured what you were doing was good when he let out a slight grunt and you saw his hand tighten around the desk. You gradually brought your hand up, blushing slightly as his cock twitched in your hand. You continued your movements, replicating what you’ve read from inappropriate books of girls in similar situations, spreading some of the spit around the swollen tip of his cock with your thumb. You could tell you were doing good by the way his breath hitched in his throat, his breathing picking up as his hips bucked into your touch, and the praise falling from his lips.

“Shit- you’re doing good. keep doing that but go a little faster.” Mattheo says, his grip on your hair tightening slightly. You listened, going faster as you cringed slightly at the feeling of the spit being spread around on your hand. You couldn’t help but reach your hand inbetween your thighs to help relieve some of the painful arousal, palming yourself through your soaked panties. You relished at the occasional moan or grunt that left his mouth and his laboured breathing.

Usually, at this point in the perverted books you’ve read, the girl would start to use her mouth. You weren’t sure if you should just go for it or wait. Trusting your gut you placed an experimental kitten lick along the side of his shaft, making him let out a breathy moan, his hand going to place itself gently on your hair, fingers entangling themselves with your hair.

You did the same thing along his entire shaft up to his tip. His fingers tightening around your locks of hair. “Try taking it into your mouth now,” He said, looking down at you. You bit your lip slightly as you let out a quick snort of laughter at his words, not being able to take this too seriously as the alcohol in your system was making everything ten times funnier.

“C’mon don’t be scared.” He teased, grinning at your laughter. His hand pushing your head slightly to edge you on. You just grinned slightly, glancing up at him.

His face flushed slightly as he bit his cheek, looking down at you. chest slowly going up and down. You watched as his arms flexed as you took him into your mouth, gagging as you quickly felt him go farther into your mouth than you’ve ever felt before. Stopping at just half his length before you were attempting to pull back. His hand held your head in place for a couple seconds before letting up, his hand falling back to his side. A ‘pop’ sounded in the room as you pulled back, coughing and wiping the bit of spit that seeped out from the corners of your mouth. You could feel the slight stretch of your mouth at the edge of , it was an uncomfortable feeling.

He smiled down at you recovered yourself. “Was that ok?” He asked, his tone patient. He wanted to make sure you were comfortable and that everything was going at an ok pace for you.

You smiled up at him as you nodded. “I can continue,” You said eagerly. Waiting for him to agree as you grasped him in your hand again. slowly going up and down with your hand.

He nodded down at you, “Yeah. Try using your tongue a bit more while going…. uh.. up and down, yeah?” He asked, not sure exactly how to explain it. You smiled in response, taking him into your mouth again. It was easier to do this time though you could still only take about half of him. You let your tongue slide against the bottom of his shaft along a vein as you (attempted) to bop your head. the unfamiliar movement feeling awkward to do as you placed your hand on his thighs for support.

“Yeah shit- like that.” He said, his hand again finding solace on your head again. his hips gently thrusting into your mouth. Making you gag slightly. “Use your hand on the bit you can’t fit into your mouth-“ He said through moans, his voice sounding more desperate now. You followed what he said, your hand gripping the bit of his cock that you couldn’t fit into your mouth as you jerked him off slightly.

You took his increasing moans and tightened grip on your hair as a sign that you’re doing good as you continued your movements. Gagging slightly as you struggled to breathe through your nose, eventually needing to pull away as you coughed slightly. You decided to replace the absence of your mouth with your hand as you caught your breath.

“You’re doing good for your first time,” Mattheo commented with a smirk, his face flushed. His hand moving down to wipe the spit from your face. “You sure you’re not lying to me?” He asked. Looking at you with slight, playful skepticism.

You bit your lip slightly in embarrassment as you admitted without fully thinking: “I read books… and watched a couple videos.”

Your face flushed in embarrassment at your sudden admission, taking in Mattheo’s reaction as his eyes widened slightly before quickly being replaced with amusement. “I knew you were a little too good of a student.” He teased with a smirk, hand going back to your hair as he pulled slightly, “Now c’mon. You’re supposed to be giving a blowjob. Not a handjob.”

You then continued. Attempting to get used to the full feeling in your mouth along with needing to breathe through your nose. Your jaw slowly starting to ache. Mattheo started pushing your head further down his cock, making you gag around him which seemed to only turn him on more. “Fuck… can’t wait to train your throat another time.” He said through a mix of a moan and groan. His words didn’t fully process through your lust and alcohol clouded brain. “You mind if i help you a little bit? hm?” He asked, hand twirling your hair into more of a makeshift ponytail. You just nodded as much as you could in response to his words. looking at him with lust-over, wide eyes.

He grinned as he bit his lip as you looked up at him, chuckling slightly. “Fuck yeah.., knew you’d agree.” He mumbled as he gripped your hair into a more firm grip as he started moving your head back and forth by your hair. With Mattheo controlling your movements you could focus more on trying to add to the pleasure with your tongue. swirling it around his cock as you placed small ‘kitten lick’ like flicks on the tip when he pulled you back.

You could only take it as he face-fucked you eagerly. And god was his sounds divine. His American accent making his random mumbles of curses or praise hotter, “Shit.. taking this like a champ, surprisingly.”

Or the occasional, every once in a while, quick whimpers that’d escape up his throat and out of his mouth. You just felt dizzy with excitement not only at what you’re doing- but the sudden revelation that he may like you too, or even that he chose you to hook up with of all girls. Your hands rested on his thighs as they started to flex more and more often, as well as his moans increase in pitch slightly.

Mattheo pulls you off his cock as he came. Not sure of your boundaries yet so he didn’t want to do anything too…. kinky?

You quickly started trying to fill your lungs with oxygen as you coughed softly, not as bad as the last two times though. You watched as Mattheo came, jacking himself off through it as his cum spurted out onto his shirt and hand.

You flinched as you felt something land on your face, blinking as you reached your hand up to touch at the sticky liquid on your face. Mattheo too noticed as his eyes widened slightly, quickly moving his hand to your face, wiping the cum off with his thumb. “Shit- sorry..” He said.

What you did next you weren’t sure if it was because you were genuinely curious, or too drunk to think properly. You held his wrist in place as you licked the cum off his thumb, grin plastered on your face as you took in his reaction. His cum tasted kind of salty and bitter, though not the worst thing you’ve tasted. Mattheo watched in shock combined with amusement as he grinned. “Well? how did it taste?” He asked, looking down at you as he shoved himself back into the confines of his pants. Amused at your actions. clearly he underestimated how much of a freak you really were.

You just grinned up at him as you let go of his wrist. “I’d take that over cottage cheese,” You said with a soft giggle as you were pulled up back to your feet by Mattheo. wobbling slightly as you got used to needing to stand on your feet.

Mattheo kept his hand in yours as he smiled at you, wiping the spit and small bits of his cum still on your face off. “Should i keep that in mind for our date?” He said, tone half confident and questioning. Though before you could hear anything you heard an all to familiar voice from the hallway,

“This Classroom, Now.” The voice that you both recognized as Severus Snape said, voice inching closer to the door of the room you two were in. You and Mattheo shared a glance before you both quickly went and hid behind a pile of random class stuff. Perfectly hiding the two of you when you sat.

You two glanced at each other as you both grinned before jumping slightly as the door to the class slammed open and then closed. “Sit.” Severus Snape demanded as he walked dangerously close to the two of you. “The amount of times i have caught you two doing some type of obscenity in public is As.tro.nom.i.cal.” Snape spoke, putting pointed emphasis on ‘astronomical’.

“We’re teenagers being teenagers, what else would you expect?” The voice of a student said. You and Mattheo both shared a glance as you both stifled back chuckles, recognizing the voice. Fred Weasley, which most likely meant the other student was Angelina. You could practically hear the grin on Freds face.

“Teenager or not i expect you to have some decency.” Snape spat out, strictness and annoyance in his tone. “Especially since you’re only here for two and a half more weeks.” Snape added, putting emphasis as he spoke ‘two and a half.’ You covered your mouth as you giggled quietly, scooting closer to Mattheo as he moved his arm to make room for you. You two practically cuddling against eachother as you two listened to Fred and Angelina get lectured by Professor Snape.

Mattheo glanced down at you before smiling, genuinely. Whispering down to you: “As i was saying, date tomorrow morning at Hogsmeade? Three Broomsticks?” He asked. Silently hoping in his head that you’ll say yes.

You shared his genuine smile as you nodded excitedly, “Of course.” You tried to whisper back casually, though your tone exposed the excitement coursing through you as you rested your head on his shoulder and smiled like an idiot.

“Though you should probably clean the cum off your shirt.”

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . Written by ankoluvly, 2024 on tumblr! please do NOT repost on anything.

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . OML this is longer than i expected it to be, and my first, full length fic EVER. Who would’ve thought it’d be Mattheo, one of the fanon characters that never stood out to me before lmfao.

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . This is incredibly vanilla because that’s how i envisioned it, sorry if it’s not your cup of tea 😭😭

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . I already brained up other scenarios based off this lil universe between reader and Mattheo

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . Spent awhile on this ngl 🥹 But it was fun to do even if i’m not to proud of it noww

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . FEEDBACK IS *VERY* APPRECIATED, thank you :)

[brokenmenswhore]

A part three to proposition please 🙏

holy SHIT you guys you’re all FIENDS

a proposition: exploration | poly!marauders

pairing: poly!marauders x fem!reader (james, remus, and sirius, featuring alecto, dorcas, evan, lily, and mary)

warnings: smut (MDNI 18+)

a/n: i really hope this was worth the wait, thank you for your patience <3

a proposition: masterlist

────── ☾ ──────

“Morning!”

The group at the Gryffindor table turned their heads toward you.

“Morning,” Remus responded, twisting his body to see you standing directly behind him.

“You guys mind if I sit with you?”

“Not at all, gorgeous,” Remus flirted, patting the spot to his right as he took another bite of french toast.

You blushed as you sat down, smiling to everyone else at the table as a greeting.

As you settled in, the group continued the conversation they were having about upcoming exams. Being a year below them, you didn’t have much to offer, and you were growing bored.

You leaned over toward Remus, confidence beaming due to your desire for attention as you whispered, “thank you for yesterday. You were really nice to me.”

Remus turned his attention away from the group as he looked at you, smiling, “of course, but there’s no need to thank me. It was a pleasure.”

His flirtations made you blush. You thought about how funny it was that he had literally fucked you, yet one little comment made your heart putty in his hands.

You were blushy and giggly like a schoolgirl with a crush, completely unable to control yourself. “I’m glad it was a pleasure.”

Remus smiled even wider, catching onto your antics. “I fucked you once and now you’re in a mood, huh?” he teased.

“Maybe.”

Remus looked around the table, who still hadn’t noticed his absence from the conversation, and he took your hand, leaving his seat and subsequently pulling you up to a stand.

“We’ll be back,” Remus said.

“No no no,” James said, “no, that’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair?” Remus asked.

“Mate, you’re the only one here who’s been with her, and it was last night. Keep it in your pants, we’re literally at breakfast,” James pouted.

“Can’t help it when she asks,” Remus smiled.

You blushed even harder, ducking your head behind Remus’s shoulder in embarrassment.

The table gave up on fighting Remus. James turned back around with a sigh and continued eating and chatting, as did everyone at the table except for Sirius, who stayed eyeing you until you were out of view.

Remus pulled you down a few hallways until he found a sufficiently quiet corridor with empty classrooms.

“Remus, what if someone-“

“They never use these classrooms,” Remus said, quietly clicking the door shut, “one too many hexes, I suppose.”

“But-“

“You look so good right now.”

Your protestations died in your throat as Remus walked closer and closer to you. You took a step backward, and your lower back collided into an empty desk.

“Why so quiet all of a sudden?” Remus teased.

“You make me nervous,” you admitted without thinking.

“Yeah? Nervous how?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yeah, you do.”

“I don’t know, like, I just- I keep thinking about yesterday,” you said.

Remus began to lightly run his fingers up the side of your body. “What about it?”

“You know what about.”

“I wanna hear you say it.”

“You’re joking.”

“Nope.”

You took a deep breath. “I keep thinking about how we had sex. Happy?”

“Not quite,” Remus answered, “I wanna know what exactly about us having sex you keep thinking about.”

“I don’t know, you, I guess?”

“Me, hm?”

“Yeah.”

“You know what I keep thinking about?”

You cocked your head to the side.

“You.”

“Me?”

“Mhm,” Remus continued, “you underneath me, to be specific.”

As he spoke, Remus began to slowly pull your skirt up to your waist, causing your breathing to hitch in your throat.

“Well well well, is this all for me?”

Remus ran a finger over your underwear but still between your folds, the wetness already having soaked through the fabric, leaving an evident stain.

“Yes,” you admitted.

Remus removed his hand, instead wrapping his arms around the backs of your legs, causing you to gasp as you jumped upward. Remus moved you backward, and your ass hit the desk behind you. He took residence standing between your legs, which in turn made your skirt stay bunched up at your waist.

“Can I try something?” Remus asked.

“What do you wanna try?” you asked, your breathing heavy in anticipation from Remus’s close proximity.

“You.”

“Me what?”

“I wanna try you.”

You furrowed your brows in confusion. “You already did, we already had sex. I’m confused.”

Remus chuckled. “No, baby, I wanna taste you.”

“Oh.”

“That okay?”

“I don’t really know what that entails, but yeah.”

“You know you can always just tell me to stop, right?” Remus checked.

“Yes.”

Remus nodded at your response and sunk to his knees, looking up at you as he pushed your underwear to the side.

“What if-“

“Don’t be self conscious baby, you’re beautiful,” Remus eased your nerves, and you took a deep breath as you forced your muscles to relax.

Remus stuck his tongue out and tasted between your folds, moving slowly and gentle so as not to overstimulate you too early, and you shuddered at the contact.

Remus maintained eye contact as you watched him move his tongue up and down, tasting your evident wetness. You moaned when he flicked his tongue faster directly on your clit.

Your body jolted, and Remus made a sound of satisfaction as he continued his work on your clit, alternating between flicking you with his tongue and sucking and kissing.

“Fuck,” you sighed.

Remus reached a hand up to grab yours, intertwining your fingers with his to help steady you in a gesture of intimacy that you really appreciated.

You squeezed his hand as you became a whiny, submissive mess.

Remus’s other hand gripped the flesh of your ass that was accessible, pushing you closer to him and increasing the intensity of your pleasure.

You threw your head back, and your hand instinctively went to the back of Remus’s head, lightly pulling the strands of his hair.

You snapped out of your daze for a moment and quickly removed your hand, self conscious about the action made while you were lost in pleasure.

Remus pulled away from you. “Go for it, baby, don’t hold back.”

You knew he was intentionally calling you baby because you mentioned yesterday that you liked it, and the remembrance was only adding to your arousal.

You swallowed your self consciousness and resumed playing with Remus’s hair. He moaned into you at the feeling, clearly happy about it.

“Shit, Rem-“

Remus moved his mouth faster, desperately trying to pull an orgasm from you.

“Rem- Remmy-“

Remus pulled away for a brief moment to say, “feels so good you’re callin me nicknames now, huh?”

“S-sorry,” you stuttered.

“Uh uh, you better keep moaning little nicknames for me like that.”

You simply moaned in response, losing strength to stay sitting up as you began to lightly grind your hips against Remus’s face, so lost in pleasure you didn’t care about being embarrassed anymore.

Remus slapped the outside of your thigh, looking up at you. He decided to test the waters with you. “I said keep moaning my fucking name.”

You liked the dominance. “Yes, Remmy.”

“Good girl,” he praised, reconnecting his mouth to you and still focusing on your clit, deciding to save anything else for another time, as this was your first time doing this, and he wanted to take it slow. He knew not many of the others would.

You threw your head back, anchoring yourself with your hand on Remus’s head as your moans became louder and louder.

Remus let go of your hand and held your waist, now completely gripping your hips as he pushed you as close to him as he could.

Your high was approaching quickly, and your moans were becoming high pitched and weak.

“I’m, it’s- Remmy, I-“

Remus didn’t pull away, but instead looked up at you to watch your face as you came.

You threw your head back instinctively, your chest rapidly rising and falling as your orgasm washed over you.

Remus stayed between your legs to lap up any and all wetness, and only stood when he was satisfied.

You were trying hard to catch your breath, and Remus smiled at you. “Feel good?”

You smiled in return. “Fuck.”

Remus kissed you, and you could taste yourself on his lips.

“I’m not even hungry for breakfast anymore,” Remus joked.

────── ☾ ──────

All you could think about was Remus.

You felt like a woman possessed. You couldn’t focus in lectures because all you could think of was Remus’s head between your legs. How he sounded when he moaned into you. The way he called you baby when he fucked you. The way he runs his fingers through his messy hair. You were enamored, and you were becoming horny much more frequently than you ever imagined.

Even when you were with the group, you stayed attached to Remus. You always sat with your thigh against his, and even sometimes stood holding his arm. You were obsessed, and the group noticed.

You had just joined, and you were already completely infatuated with just one of them, and that concerned the group, so they decided to meet without you, something they rarely did, but found necessary.

“She’s absolutely obsessed with you, mate.”

Remus flicked embers from his cigarette into the ashtray in the center of the courtyard. “I don’t know what to tell you. I like her, if she wants me, I’m not gonna say no. It’s her choice who she wants.”

“Come on, guys, go easy on Y/N,” Lily said, “every girl gets a little obsessed with their first time. It’s the same way I was with James.”

“If that ain’t the truth,” James said, raising his bottle of firewhiskey.

Sirius took the opportunity to stand up and grab the raised bottle, and he downed the remainder of its contents in an instant.

“Someone else needs to fuck her,” Mary chimed in, “simple as that.”

“She’ll get there, why rush her?” Remus defended.

“Oh shut up mate, you just like having someone want you so bad,” James argued.

Remus shrugged before taking another drag of his cigarette, not completely disagreeing with James’s sentiment.

Sirius cleared his throat, and the attention of the room turned to him. In an annoyed tone, he spoke, “someone go and fuck her, then.”

“Why don’t you go find her?” Dorcas suggested to Sirius.

“Maybe I will.”

“No, no, I got this,” James said, standing up and straightening his shirt, “I know my way to the Hufflepuff common room.”

“She’s not in the common room, she’s in potions,” Sirius said.

“What, you know her schedule now?”

Sirius shrugged and rested his elbows on his knees, the wind knocking a few strands of hair in front of his face.

James threw his hands in the air. “I don’t know where the Hufflepuff potions classroom is, what do you want me to do? Fuck.”

“Just find her later. It’s not like she’s gonna fuck you in a classroom anyways,” Dorcas said.

Remus scoffed to himself, not realizing it was loud enough for the group to hear. Everyone’s gaze shot toward him.

“Sorry,” Remus smiled, clearly not sorry at all.

“Oh come on,” James said, throwing his hands up in the air, “I don’t even have a shot.”

“You’ll be fine, mate, just try manhandling her a little,” Remus said casually.

“Yeah?”

“She seemed to like the little bit I did when I tried,” Remus revealed.

By the time classes were over, you were nowhere to be seen. You hadn’t had the need to walk past the courtyard at all, but that didn’t mean James gave up. Instead, he just walked around the Hufflepuff hallways until he saw you.

“Hey Y/N!” he exclaimed when he finally caught your eye.

“Hey, James, what are you doing down here?” you said, approaching the common room door.

“Do you guys get to snatch snacks?” he asked, his inner monologue taking over as he noticed the Hufflepuff common room was extremely close to the kitchens.

“You came down here because you wanted a snack?” you asked, turning to face him.

“I guess you could say that,” he responded.

“What does that mean?”

“Shouldn’t you know now? I mean, I thought Remus took care of teaching you that already,” James smirked.

You blushed and bowed your head briefly. “He’s quick to talk, that one.”

“Why have you been so attached to him?” James asked.

You processed the question before speaking. “I don’t know, I guess I didn’t realize I had been. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, angel, no worries,” James said, stepping closer and closer to you, “I think I can help that.”

“Yeah?” you played along, “how?”

“Follow me and you’ll find out.”

You smiled as you took James’s hand, your other hand holding your books to your chest as you mindlessly followed James’s lead. You watched the muscles in his arm flex as he held onto your hand, and you felt yourself growing excited.

You were becoming attached to Remus, and you knew you had to get that out of your system. Besides, James was hot, and you were now perpetually horny, so why not indulge in a little fun?

────── ☾ ──────

“I am not going in there.”

James sighed. “C’mon, it really isn’t as scary as it looks. Promise.”

“No no, I think it is as scary as it looks,” you protested, “I’ve heard horror stories about this place, James. It’s called the Shrieking Shack for a reason.”

“Would you just trust me?” James said.

“In theory,” you responded, but still swallowed your fears and let him direct you toward the dilapidated building.

You were surprised by its contents. The interior was decorated somewhat cozy, and a large bed sat in the corner across from a warm fireplace. Lily sat on a couch facing the flames, reading for pleasure in her solitude.

“Hey, Lil, I’m sorry, we didn’t know you were out here,” James said when he spotted her.

“No worries,” Lily said, standing, “I can get going, and leave you two alone.”

She started to exit the room, but the moment she walked past James, he called out to her. “Wait. Stay.”

You turned to James, then to Lily, then back to James again. Maybe he didn’t bring you here to fuck. Maybe he really just wanted to hang out.

“Yeah? Is that alright with you, Y/N?” Lily asked.

Your gaze continued to shift between James and Lily. “I think I’m confused.”

James took a step closer to you, shifting his body behind you as he swept your hair off of one shoulder. He leaned toward your ear, whispering, “No, I don’t think you are.”

He then lightly kissed your neck, momentarily sucking on a few sensitive spots. You felt yourself lose control as your head fell backwards and your eyes closed. His lips felt like heaven against your skin.

You forgot Lily was in the room until you felt her presence in front of you. You opened your eyes but they almost instantly shut again as Lily connected her lips to yours. Your mouths moved in sync as you let yourself melt into their touches.

James’s hands ran down your sides, pushing down the garments on your lower body. You shivered as the cool air hit your now bare skin.

“Here, c’mere,” James said, directing you over to the space in between the couch and the fireplace. ��Better?”

“Mhm,” you vocalized.

James studied you for a moment. He remembered what Remus has said earlier about manhandling you, and decided to take the chance. He stood in front of you and grabbed your throat, lightly squeezing his fingers as he pulled your body closer to his, your face mere inches from his. “You gonna be good?” he whispered.

“Yes,” you answered.

“Good girl,” he praised, his unoccupied hand connecting to your clit, immediately rubbing steady circles on you as he studied your expression.

Your mouth opened and you tried to moan, but the pressure around your throat meant every noise came out as a shaky breath or a small, strangled moan.

James’s eyes never left yours as your brows furrowed and you tried to shift your weight, but his grip on you was firm. He studied exactly how your features shifted and contorted when he moved fast or hit a particularly good spot, and he could feel a straining in his jeans.

Your arousal grew each time you tried to move away but couldn’t. James was certainly the most muscular of any of the group, and he worked out the most, almost by default from playing Quidditch. You were happy he was manhandling you: he was perfect for it.

James continued to touch you as you struggled to remain standing, but luckily, Lily came to your aid, holding your hips from behind.

“Aweh, Jamesie, I think she’s gonna fall if you let her go,” Lily taunted.

James listened to Lily, then directed his attention back to you. “Open your eyes,” he demanded, and you did just that, “if you fall, it better be to your knees.”

You nodded your head up and down as much as you could with James’s grip on you, and he immediately let go of your throat. You felt your knees buckle, and despite the fact that you probably could have stood, you sunk to your knees in front of James.

He smiled wickedly as he unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them down, standing in front of you in his boxers once his shirt was removed.

You looked up at him and swallowed hard, turned on but also nervous.

“I’ve never done this before,” you reminded him, “I don’t think it’ll be good.”

“You don’t have to do it, angel,” James said, fearing he was pressuring you.

“I want to,” you admitted, “I just- I-“

“Want me to talk you through it?”

“You don’t have to- I just- I don’t know-“

James sank down to your level, kneeling on the floor in front of you and taking your hands in his. “If you don’t wanna do this, you tell me whenever. Otherwise, don’t be embarrassed. I’ll walk you through it. We stop when you want. Don’t worry about it being bad, baby, that pretty mouth around my cock couldn’t possibly be bad. Lily can help, too. She’s got it down to a science. Okay?”

You blushed and dropped your head to hide it. James maneuvered his own boxers off, before standing up again, his semi-hard cock almost level with your face.

“You wanna watch what I do first?” Lily suggested, and you immediately nodded. You would feel a lot more comfortable seeing her do it first, partially so you could have a reference, but partially because you couldn’t stand the thought of doing it in front of Lily without Lily having done anything sexual in front of you first.

Lily shuffled on her knees toward James, who smiled down at her. She took James’s cock in her hand and pointed the tip directly outward.

“Boys like it when you work ‘em up first, especially this one,” Lily smiled.

Lily kept James’s cock steady as she licked a stripe from the base to the tip, circling her tongue around the tip before pulling away to speak again.

“Since it’s your first time, don’t rush it,” she said, “go nice and slow and let yourself adjust. Like this.”

Lily wrapped her mouth around James’s cock, and he immediately threw his head back and let out a moan. She slowly sunk her head further and further down.

James’s hand instinctively found it’s way to the back of Lily’s head, causing Lily to pull away with a pop. “She can’t see if your arm is in the way, Jamie!”

“Fuck, sorry,” James breathed out, clearly worked up from even one small moment.

“The little moans mean he likes it,” Lily said, “just watch your teeth. Try to think about hollowing out your cheeks.”

You nodded and watched as Lily reconnected her mouth to James’s cock. He clenched his hands into fists to stop himself from holding her head against him, and you could tell he was fighting to keep his resolve. Lily moved her head as far down as she could go, then almost entirely off, then back down again. She kept a steady pace, and eventually James looked down at her, and Lily forced her eyes open to look back at him.

“Fuck, we love it when you fucking look at us,” James said, talking to you, but looking at Lily.

Lily continued to suck him off for a few moments before disconnecting herself from him again, shifting backwards on her knees to make room for you.

You made yourself comfortable as you took a deep breath. You looked up at James, and he nearly combusted when he made eye contact with you. “Shit, baby, don’t look at me like that.”

“Will you tell me if anything is uncomfortable?” you asked.

The innocence coating your voice was driving James crazy, and he was growing more and more eager by the second. “Shit, yes, I promise.”

You copied Lily’s initial actions, wrapping your hand around the base of his cock as you wrapped your lips around his tip. You remembered what Lily said about teeth, and you did your best to avoid having them touch James. You moved your lips as far down James’s shaft as you could before you felt his tip his the back of your throat, causing you to gag around him and pull away.

“It’s okay, that’s okay! That’s totally normal,” Lily said, immediately putting her hand on your back to comfort you, “just go a little less far this time.”

You wrapped your lips around James again, this time only sinking down as far as you could without his cock hitting the back of your throat. You slowly pulled back and then pushed in again, trying to gage how it feels to move. You focused on keeping your cheeks hollowed out.

After a few tries, you got your jaw in a comfortable position. You looked up at James, who was fighting for his life to keep it together. He was gripping Lily’s hand in his own, and his other hand was in front of his face, covering his own mouth.

You pulled away from James. “Are you okay?” you asked.

“Yeah, baby, just didn’t wanna make a noise and stress you out.”

“Am I doing okay?”

“You’re doing so good for me, baby.”

You gave him a small smile before sinking back onto his length. You found your comfortable position again, and began to move more and more, gradually increasing your speed as you adjusted.

“Atta girl,” Lily said.

You braced yourself by placing your palms on his thighs, allowing yourself to more easily get closer and closer to him.

As time went on, James lost himself in the pleasure, and eventually completely forgot that this was your first time, and that he was supposed to be gentle.

His eyes were closed and his head was thrown back as he placed his hand on the back of your head, forcing you closer to him.

You tried your best to focus on keeping your cheeks hollow, and realized you should breathe through your nose. You knew you could stop James at any time, but you didn’t really want to. You relished in the knowledge that your mouth around him felt so good that he lost control.

James began to buck his hips forward, causing you to still your head as he took over. He fucked your mouth fast, chasing his high as you tried your best to breathe and stay still.

Lily grabbed your shoulders and pulled you away from him. James snapped out of his trance, and looked down to you concerned.

“Shit, angel, are you alright?” he asked, leaning down and running a thumb over your cheek.

You nodded yes as you caught your breath.

You turned to Lily, who said, “it’s no fun if he comes already.”

James got down to your level, kneeling on the floor as he begged, “seven hells, Y/N, please let us fuck you.”

You leaned toward James and gently kissed him, and he immediately reciprocated, running his fingers through your hair and deepening the kiss.

He pulled you against his body as he leaned backward, straightening his legs until he was laying flat against the floor, holding your body against his while still kissing you.

“Flip around,” he said.

You gave him a confused look, but instead of explaining, he simply repeated, “flip the fuck around.”

You awkwardly shifted your body around until your back was to James. You were nervous to put the pressure of your body against his chest, so you knelt on the floor between his legs, unsure of what to do.

You luckily didn’t have to ask. James leaned upward and wrapped his arms around your body, pulling your back flush against his chest as he laid back down against the rug.

“Legs on either side of me, angel,” he said, and you moved your knees to either side of his waist.

Even before you had sex, you had some understanding of how it worked, but this was all new for you. You listened to any instruction James gave you without question, because it wasn’t like you knew what you were doing anyway.

James unwrapped his arms from your body and ran his fingers over your arms before pulling them backwards, your head nearly knocking back into his head from surprise as he positioned your arms on either side of his head, allowing you to hold yourself up.

“You okay?” he checked in once he had you in the position he wanted.

“Mhm,” you responded.

He gripped your hips, his strength overwhelming you as he lifted your hips with ease. You helped him, lifting your knees until you felt him stop.

James gave his cock a few fast strokes before he positioned himself at your entrance. He pushed your hips down, trying to be slow for your sake, but somewhat failing. When you were all the way sat down, you could hear James’s head hit the floor as he threw it back.

He continued to move your hips up and down, relishing in the pleasure. After a few thrusts, he choked out, “Lil?”

“Already here,” she said, her voice sultry.

Your eyes were squeezed shut, but when you heard her voice, you snapped out of your daze to see she was right between your legs.

“Hi,” you squeaked out.

“Hi,” she responded.

She straightened her back until her lips were mere inches away from yours. She waited until you cried out at a sharp thrust of James’s hips to kiss you. She wrapped her fingers in your hair to keep your head in place, her tongue finding it’s way into your mouth as you moaned.

When she pulled away, she kept eye contact, and began to move down your body. When she was back in between your legs, you nodded to her, granting her permission.

Lily’s tongue began to taste between your folds. James’s thrusts we’re growing hard, his hips now moving more than yours, so Lily didn’t have to do much work.

Her tongue flicked against you as your hips moved up and down, the added pleasure causing your arousal to build rapidly.

She gazed up at you, moving her mouth closer to you so she could suck at your clit as you watched her.

“Fuck, I can’t-“ you moaned.

James released one of your hips and gripped your hair, forcing your head to tilt downward and watch Lily.

Lily sucked and licked at your clit, focusing on circling your clit with her tongue, knowing it would help drive you over the edge.

“Fuck, c’mere,” James nearly growled, knocking your arms and holding your back against his chest, your head falling beside his.

He began to fuck into you even harder, hitting your sweet spot with every vicious thrust. The stretched out position allowed Lily more access to your core, and she gently pawed at James’s balls as she continued to taste you.

While everything about the moment was heated, what sent you over the edge was James’s hold on you. His muscular arms held you against him so effortlessly, but so strong that you couldn’t dare to move if you wanted to. You felt so close to him, and the thought did you in.

“I’m com-“ you couldn’t even finish the sentence before your high crashed over you.

James immediately pulled you up and off of him and allowed Lily to taste your juices, sucking at your entrance until you had calmed down and were clean. As she did so, James used one hand to hold his cock against your thigh, fucking it until he came, spilling his seed on your thigh and hip.

Lily leaned over to lick up the come all over you, making sure you were clean before she backed away.

You dropped your hips to the floor, exhaustion overwhelming you as James shifted backward and allowed you to rest your head on his legs.

Naked and fucked out, James began to run his fingers through your sweat soaked hair. You stayed there for a moment, while Lily reclothed herself and organized her books, before you asked, “how long have you guys been coming here?”

“Years,” James answered, “Remus started coming here during his transitions, and the rest of us would come help him out. It kinda became our place.”

You tilted your head to look up at James. “His what?”

“His transitions. Transformations. Whatever.”

“Transformations?”

“Remus is a werewolf, honey,” Lily chimed in, “there’s no way you couldn’t have known that.”

You did not know that.

“Sirius can turn into a dog,” James blurted out.

“A what?”

“You have so much to learn,” James teased.

“A dog? Like a dog? Like a literal dog?”

“Mhm,” James smiled, “pretty cute dog, too. Big fluffy black thing. Can be kinda scary. He doesn’t really talk about it.”

“What can you turn into?” you looked up to James.

“Baby, you just saw the animal I can be.”

“Oh be honest with her, James,” Lily said, “that wasn’t even the half of it.”

────── ☾ ──────

please comment on this chapter to be added to the taglist! i’m refreshing the list :) thank you!

current taglist: @alixmarauders @riddlemenottsluttyslytherin @twilightlover2007 @hcqwxrtss123 @queerndepressed @prongs-wolfstar-marauders @flowersarcute @remussbitch @ch4rlotte35 @alwaysanundertone @urfavhanna @donovorita28 @randomcreator-09 @joey-hoey @chronically-sh-ana @pinksmellslikelove @blvebanisters @aaronhotchswife @roseblack1864 @chaevvonders @champomiel

[badger-tales]

Stolen Glances// F.W x Reader

a/n: Guys my requests are still open, who and what i write is pinned on my account!

request:

I’ve been reading your fics for awhile now and I’ve finally worked up the courage to request a fic. (Anonymously, of course)

Can you please do a fic of reader x Fred Weasley where reader has liked Fred for awhile but he never noticed. But then, after a quidditch match or smth, Reader heads back to the common room real sulky (because she saw Fred and Angelina and came to the wrong conclusion) when Fred comes and walks her to the common room. They don’t have to confess their feeling or anything if you don’t want to, but I just want a nice, wholesome, fluff fic. Thank you!

word count: 6K

The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch. The Gryffindor team was in the middle of an intense practice session, their scarlet robes fluttering behind them like the tails of streaking comets. The air was filled with the sounds of beating wings, shouted instructions, and the occasional thud of Bludgers hitting the bats of Beaters.

You sat perched on one of the higher rows in the Gryffindor stands, surrounded by a mix of excited students. The air was crisp, carrying with it the faint scent of damp grass and the thrill of competition. Your friends were chatting animatedly beside you, their eyes flitting from one player to another, but your gaze was locked on one figure alone.

Fred Weasley.

There he was, flying circles around the rest of the team with that familiar, confident ease that made your heart pound in your chest. His messy red hair caught the sunlight, and every now and then, that infectious grin of his would flash across his face, making him seem even more brilliant. It was like he belonged up there in the sky, as if the broom was just an extension of him, a natural part of who he was.

You sighed, resting your chin on your palm, trying (and failing) to tear your eyes away from him.  

"Why does he have to be so annoyingly perfect?" you thought to yourself, a touch of bitterness seeping into your internal monologue. "I bet he doesn’t even know I exist."

The practice continued, with Fred and George working seamlessly as a Beater duo, sending Bludgers flying toward their teammates who were practicing dodges. Each time Fred whacked a Bludger, his muscles tensed, and you couldn’t help but admire the strength and grace behind each swing.

But it was more than just his skill on the field that had you so utterly captivated. It was the way he seemed to light up a room—or in this case, an entire Quidditch pitch—effortlessly drawing people in with his charm, his laughter, his natural charisma. And yet, it was that very charm that made him feel so... out of reach. 

"He’s probably got girls lining up just to talk to him," you mused bitterly, shaking your head. "Why would he ever notice someone like me?"

As if on cue, Fred suddenly pulled up on his broom, hovering in place for a moment. His gaze drifted toward the stands, squinting slightly as if trying to spot someone in the crowd. Your heart leapt into your throat. Was he looking... at you?

Time seemed to slow down as he raised his hand and waved. For a fleeting, heart-stopping moment, you could have sworn his eyes locked with yours. The blood rushed to your cheeks, and you could feel your heart thudding against your ribcage like it was trying to break free.

"Could he really be waving at me?" you wondered, hope blooming in your chest. You even managed a tentative wave back, your breath caught somewhere between your lungs and your throat.

But then, reality crashed down like a Bludger to the gut.

Fred's grin widened as a group of younger Gryffindor students a few rows below you erupted into cheers, waving back enthusiastically. He shot them a playful salute, his eyes crinkling with laughter.

Your arm froze mid-wave, a hot flush of embarrassment creeping up your neck. You quickly lowered your hand, trying to pretend you were just brushing a stray hair out of your face. 

"Of course, it wasn’t for me," you muttered under your breath, a bitter smile twisting your lips. You could feel your friends exchanging glances beside you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at them. Instead, you focused intently on the pitch, willing the sting of rejection to fade.

Fred turned back to his teammates, seemingly unaware of the little scene that had played out in the stands. He was back to his easygoing self, joking with George as they lined up for another round of Bludger practice. 

And you? You were left sitting there, trying to force your heart to stop racing, trying to swallow down the disappointment that tasted far too familiar. Because that was the thing about having a crush on someone like Fred Weasley—it was always just out of reach, like trying to catch a Snitch with your bare hands.

But despite the sting, you couldn’t stop your eyes from drifting back to him, couldn’t stop that tiny flicker of hope from lighting up inside you every time he came close. Because maybe, just maybe... one day, he'd notice you.

But for now, you stayed in your seat, surrounded by laughter and cheers, with only the warmth of the afternoon sun to keep you company.

The late afternoon sun was beginning to set behind the castle, bathing the Hogwarts grounds in a soft, golden glow. The sky above was a mix of pinks and oranges, the colors reflecting off the shimmering lake in the distance. Quidditch practice had ended, and now, players were trickling out of the changing rooms, their laughter and banter filling the cooling air as they made their way back toward the castle.

You lingered just outside, leaning against the cool stone wall, pretending to be busy adjusting the strap of your bag. In reality, your fingers were fidgeting aimlessly, your mind barely registering your friend's conversation with one of the reserve players beside you. The words were just noise—a distant hum as you scanned the players leaving the pitch.

Your heart was racing, but you kept your expression carefully neutral. You were waiting. Waiting for a glimpse of him. You told yourself you were just delaying your walk back to the castle, but deep down, you knew the truth: you were hoping to see Fred Weasley one last time before the evening was over. Maybe today, after catching his eye during practice, he’d notice you. Maybe he’d smile, say something, anything...

"Pathetic," you thought, scolding yourself, but you couldn't help it. That flutter of hope was there, persistent and stubborn.

Just as you were about to give up and turn away, the door to the changing rooms swung open. Your breath hitched as Fred stepped out, his red hair damp and tousled, droplets of water still clinging to his neck. His practice robes were slung casually over one shoulder, revealing the snug, sweat-stained shirt beneath that clung to his broad shoulders. 

Your heart did a little flip, and you stood a bit straighter, your pulse quickening. He looked so effortlessly perfect, his grin bright as ever. For a moment, you felt a spark of courage, the fleeting thought that maybe, just maybe, you could muster the nerve to wave or even call out to him.

But before you could act, someone else beat you to it.

Angelina Johnson appeared beside him, striding out of the changing rooms with that confident, easy grace that seemed to come so naturally to her. She was still in her Quidditch gear, her dark braids pulled back, and there was a light sheen of sweat on her forehead. The two of them shared a laugh, the kind of laugh that made it seem like they were the only ones in the world. 

You felt your chest tighten, your heart sinking like a stone as you watched Fred drape an arm over Angelina’s shoulders. It was such a casual gesture, the kind he did with all his

close friends, but the way she leaned into him... the easy familiarity between them... it made your stomach twist painfully.

"You’ve always been my favorite Beater partner, Angie," Fred said, his voice carrying easily over the noise of the other players. His tone was light, teasing, and it sent a ripple of laughter through Angelina.

The world around you seemed to blur, the laughter and chatter of your fellow students fading into a dull hum. All you could hear were Fred’s words, replaying over and over like a cruel echo. The scene in front of you—Fred’s arm around Angelina, the way he looked at her—felt like a punch to the gut.

"Why her?" you thought bitterly, feeling a sharp pang of envy. Angelina was everything you weren’t—confident, beautiful, athletic. She fit effortlessly into Fred’s world, while you... you were just a spectator on the sidelines, always watching but never truly part of it.

A sharp sting pricked the back of your eyes, and you blinked furiously, refusing to let the tears fall.  

"Get a grip," you muttered to yourself under your breath. "It’s not like he ever noticed you, anyway." You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, but it felt like it was stuck there, making it hard to breathe.

You took a deep, shaky breath and tore your gaze away from them, your vision blurring with unshed tears. The last thing you wanted was for anyone to see you like this—especially Fred. 

"How could I have been so stupid?" you berated yourself silently as you turned on your heel. You began walking quickly, your footsteps heavy and hurried as if you could somehow outrun the hurt clawing at your chest.  

"Of course he’d go for someone like her. How could I ever compare?"

As you weaved through the students still lingering near the pitch, the world around you became a blur. All you could see was that image of Fred’s arm around Angelina, his bright, carefree smile, the way she leaned into him without hesitation. It was like a scene burned into your mind, tormenting you with each step.

"You idiot," you thought harshly, clutching the strap of your bag so tightly that your knuckles turned white. "Did you really think you ever had a chance? He’s always been out of your league." 

The laughter from the Quidditch players echoed behind you, and it only made the ache in your chest worse. You ducked your head as you passed a group of Hufflepuffs, hoping they wouldn’t notice the tell-tale shine in your eyes. The castle loomed ahead, its familiar silhouette now feeling more like a cage, every corridor and stairway a reminder of how foolish you’d been to ever think Fred Weasley could see you as more than just another face in the crowd.

By the time you reached the main staircase, you were practically running, desperate to reach the sanctuary of the Gryffindor common room where you could hide away from the world. Your breaths came in shallow gasps, your throat tight with the effort to hold back tears.

"I was just a fool," you thought, a single tear finally slipping down your cheek as you turned the corner. "He never noticed me. He never will."

You wiped it away angrily, quickening your pace. Maybe once you got to your dorm, you could bury yourself under your blankets and pretend this day had never happened. But as Fred’s laughter replayed in your mind, that hollow ache in your chest only deepened, a painful reminder that the crush you’d tried so hard to ignore had just been shattered into a thousand pieces.

The castle was growing colder as the evening chill settled into the stone walls, the flickering torchlight casting long shadows that danced eerily across the corridors. Most students had retreated to the warmth of their common rooms by now, leaving the hallways nearly deserted. Your footsteps echoed in the emptiness, each step seeming to mock you, the sound hollow and taunting in your ears.

You walked quickly, head down, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself as if you could somehow hold yourself together. The memory of Fred with his arm around Angelina replayed in your mind like a cruel, broken record: the way they laughed together, how natural and easy it was between them. Every replay brought a fresh stab of pain, and your heart clenched with a bitterness that spread like ice through your veins.

"Why did I let myself hope?" you thought bitterly, your breaths coming faster, more shallow. "I should’ve known better. It was foolish to think someone like him would notice someone like me." 

The corridor seemed to stretch endlessly before you, each flickering torch like a cruel spotlight illuminating your thoughts. Your eyes stung, but you pressed your lips together to stop them from trembling, refusing to let the tears fall. 

In the silence, your whispered words seemed to echo louder than you intended:  

"Stupid feelings. Stupid Fred."

As soon as the words left your mouth, a pang of guilt washed over you. You didn’t really think Fred was stupid. No, the problem was that he was far too wonderful—kind, funny, effortlessly charming. It was why it hurt so much that he didn’t see you the way you saw him. But right now, the hurt and frustration twisted your feelings into a tangled mess that you couldn’t sort through.

"No," you argued with yourself, wiping furiously at your eyes. "He’s not wonderful if he can’t even see what’s right in front of him."

But just as you were nearing the corner by the library, hurried footsteps echoed behind you, breaking the silence of the empty corridor. Your heart lurched, and for a wild moment, you hoped it was just a Prefect doing their rounds. But then, you heard that unmistakable voice—slightly breathless, tinged with concern.

"Oi! Wait up, will you?"

You froze, your back stiffening. Of course, it had to be him. You clenched your fists, trying to steady your breath, but your heart was already racing, your emotions threatening to spill over. You took a deep breath, wiping at your eyes one last time before reluctantly turning around.

There he was—Fred Weasley, jogging toward you, his hair slightly tousled and cheeks flushed from the cold. His Gryffindor scarf was loose around his neck, his shirt still slightly damp from practice, the scent of soap and fresh air clinging to him.

"Oh, Merlin," you thought, your heart sinking. "Why did it have to be him?"

You averted your gaze, focusing on the floor, the ancient stones suddenly fascinating. Heat rose to your cheeks, and you were sure they were glowing like a pair of red lanterns.  

"What do you want, Fred?" you asked, the words coming out sharper than you intended. You winced internally but kept your eyes down, afraid that if you looked at him, everything you were feeling would be written all over your face.

Fred paused, leaning forward slightly to catch his breath, his hands resting on his knees. When he straightened up, his expression was a mix of concern and confusion.  

"Just... thought you shouldn’t be walking back alone," he said, his tone light but with a hint of something softer beneath it. "It’s late, you know."

You could hear the familiar teasing lilt in his voice, but there was also that glimmer of genuine worry that made your chest ache even more. Why did he have to be so kind, so thoughtful? It only made everything hurt more. 

"I’m fine," you replied curtly, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, trying to keep your voice steady. "I can walk myself."

Fred’s brows furrowed, his smile faltering. He looked genuinely taken aback by your tone, his eyes searching your face.  

"Alright, alright," he said, holding up his hands as if in surrender. "Didn’t mean to step on your toes. Just thought you might want some company."

Company. The word grated against your already frayed nerves. Company now, when it no longer mattered. Where was this when you needed him to notice you, to see how you felt? But instead of voicing your thoughts, you shrugged, still refusing to meet his gaze.

Fred didn't move, though, and you could feel his eyes on you, trying to read what was wrong. The silence between you was thick and heavy, and all you wanted was to escape, to put as much distance as possible between you and those concerned hazel eyes.

"Seriously, are you alright?" he asked, his voice softer now, the teasing tone gone. "You’ve been... well, you don’t seem yourself tonight."

You swallowed hard, blinking rapidly to push down the tears that threatened to spill. "I wonder why," you thought bitterly, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. You couldn’t tell him how much it hurt to see him with Angelina, how foolish you felt for ever thinking you could be anything more than a friend to him.

Instead, all you managed was a quiet,  

"I’m just tired, Fred. It’s been a long day."

Fred’s face softened even more, and he took a step closer. He was so close now that you could smell the faint, comforting scent of soap mixed with the crisp chill of the evening air.  

"Alright," he said gently, his voice barely more than a whisper. "But if something’s bothering you... you can tell me, you know."

You nodded stiffly, not trusting yourself to speak. If you opened your mouth now, you were afraid everything would spill out—all your hurt, your frustration, your stupid, unrequited feelings. The ache in your chest was almost unbearable, and you couldn’t bear the thought of him seeing you like this.

Fred hesitated for a moment, like he wanted to say more, but he didn’t push. Instead, he simply fell into step beside you, matching your slow, tense pace. The corridor stretched ahead, dark and silent except for the faint sound of your footsteps and the occasional crackle of torchlight.

As you reached the staircase leading up to the Gryffindor tower, Fred’s fingers brushed lightly against yours, the touch almost hesitant, as if he was testing the waters. Your heart leapt at the contact, a flicker of warmth amidst the cold that had settled inside you. But before you could process it, you pulled your hand away, clenching it into a fist to stop it from trembling.

"Goodnight, Fred," you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper. Without waiting for a response, you hurried up the stairs, your footsteps echoing behind you. You didn’t dare look back, afraid that if you did, the tears you’d been holding back would finally break free.

Fred stood at the base of the staircase, watching you disappear, a confused and slightly hurt expression on his face. But you didn’t see it—your vision was too blurred by the tears that had finally escaped, leaving a glistening trail down your cheeks.

The Gryffindor common room was unusually quiet, the warmth of the crackling fire filling the near-empty space with a cozy, intimate atmosphere. The flickering glow danced across the walls, casting long, wavering shadows that seemed to move in sync with your erratic thoughts. The few first-years in the corner barely registered to you—they were simply background noise, whispers that faded away as you focused on the tightening knot in your chest.

You and Fred entered together, the cold from the castle corridors clinging to your clothes, quickly replaced by the welcoming heat of the common room. You hesitated near the door, feeling that strange tension between wanting to run to your dormitory and wanting to stay near him, even though every second hurt. 

Fred paused, looking at you with a gentle gaze, before nodding toward the large armchairs by the hearth.  

"Come on, let’s sit for a bit," he suggested, his voice softer than usual. There was an uncharacteristic uncertainty in his tone, as if he sensed just how fragile the moment was. 

You swallowed hard, reluctant but following him nonetheless. Every muscle in your body was tense, as though you were walking into a trap of your own making. You felt like you were about to break, and yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave—not with the way Fred was looking at you.

You sank into the plush armchair, the warmth of the fire licking at your face, but it did little to chase away the cold that had settled deep in your bones. Fred sat across from you, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. He was watching you, his eyes full of that same concern that had been haunting you all evening, and it was almost unbearable. You turned your gaze to the flames, the dancing colors easier to focus on than the intensity of his eyes.

The silence between you was thick, heavy with words unspoken, questions unasked. You didn’t want to be here, didn’t want this conversation, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move. You bit the inside of your cheek, hard enough to ground yourself, to keep yourself from snapping. "Why can’t he just let this go?" you thought, frustration and hurt battling for control.

Fred cleared his throat, trying to break the tension. He flashed that familiar grin, the one that usually made your heart flutter, made you forget everything else.  

"You’re awfully quiet tonight. Lost your voice after cheering for us so much at practice?" he teased, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

But tonight, that grin was a reminder of everything you could never have, everything that seemed so far out of reach. You forced a laugh, hollow and thin, barely glancing at him.  

"Yeah, something like that," you muttered, your voice sounding distant even to yourself. 

"Come on, just act normal," you scolded yourself internally. "Don’t let him see how much this is affecting you." But the ache in your chest made it impossible to mask your feelings, no matter how hard you tried.

Fred's grin faded, his brow furrowing as he leaned in closer, his eyes searching your face.  

"Alright, enough of that," he said, his voice softening, the teasing gone. "Something’s definitely off, and I’m not leaving until you tell me what it is."

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten painfully. You didn’t want this—didn’t want his concern, his kindness. It was easier when he was teasing, when you could brush him off and pretend you were okay. But this, the gentle tone, the genuine worry—it was too much. It made the walls you’d built around your heart feel like they were crumbling, and you weren’t ready for that.

You bit your lip, your fingers digging into the armrest of the chair as if it were the only thing keeping you grounded.  

"It’s nothing, really," you said, forcing your voice to stay steady, though it felt like you were holding back a dam that was ready to burst.

Fred’s eyes narrowed slightly, clearly not believing you. He shifted in his seat, leaning even closer, his voice dropping to a near-whisper.  

"You’ve been acting weird all evening. And it’s not just tonight—it’s been going on for days." His gaze softened, a touch of uncertainty entering his expression. "Did I do something wrong?"

The question almost shattered you. If only he knew. You felt a lump form in your throat, your vision blurring as tears threatened to spill. You shook your head quickly, focusing on your lap, trying to blink the tears away.  

"No, it’s... it’s not you, Fred," you managed, your voice trembling, barely holding together. 

He was silent for a moment, his eyes searching your face. You could feel him studying you, trying to piece together what was wrong. He sighed softly, rubbing the back of his neck, a rare sign of discomfort.  

"Look, I’m not great at this stuff," he admitted, "but you can talk to me, you know. Whatever it is, I’m here."

His words almost undid you. There was a raw earnestness in his voice, a vulnerability that you rarely saw from Fred. For a split second, you were tempted to tell him everything—the hurt, the jealousy, the way your heart ached every time you saw him with Angelina. But the fear of rejection, the fear of making a fool of yourself, kept you silent. The walls around your heart were fragile, but they were still standing.

Fred reached out, his fingers brushing against your knee gently, and it sent a jolt through you.  

"Hey," he said softly, his eyes meeting yours, his gaze pleading. "Please, don’t shut me out."

The unexpected touch, the warmth of his fingers, was too much. A tear slipped down your cheek before you could stop it. You turned your face away quickly, your breath hitching.  

"I-I can’t," you whispered, your voice breaking. "It’s too... I just can’t, alright?"

You heard him inhale sharply, and you knew he’d seen the tear. You hated how vulnerable you felt, hated that you were falling apart in front of him. You wished you could disappear, wished the floor would swallow you up.

Fred’s expression softened even more, and he moved his chair closer, the legs scraping softly against the floor. He was so close now that you could feel his warmth, the scent of him mingling with the smoky heat of the fire.  

"Please," he urged again, his voice barely a whisper, filled with so much gentleness it made your heart ache. "Just talk to me."

You couldn’t hold it in any longer. The emotions you’d been bottling up finally overflowed.  

"I thought—" your voice broke, and you swallowed hard, trying to steady yourself. "I thought you and Angelina... I saw you two after practice, and I just—" You shook your head, tears slipping down your cheeks. "Forget it. It’s stupid."

Fred looked confused, his brow furrowing.  

"Angelina?" he repeated, his voice tinged with surprise. "What about her?"

The words came out in a rush, a mix of frustration and hurt.  

"I saw you two together. You had your arm around her, and you were laughing, and I just... I thought..." You trailed off, your voice barely a whisper, realizing how pathetic you must sound. 

Fred stared at you for a long moment, and then, to your utter confusion, he started to laugh. It wasn’t mocking—there was no malice in it—but it caught you so off guard that you flinched, more tears spilling over.

"Merlin’s beard," he said between chuckles, rubbing his forehead. "Is that what this is about? You thought... oh, no, love, no." He leaned forward, his tone softening as he reached for your hand, his fingers wrapping around yours warmly.  

"Angelina’s just my friend. We’ve been teammates for years, that’s all."

You blinked, the words taking a moment to sink in.  

"But... you were so close, and I thought..."

Fred shook his head, smiling gently.  

"Nah," he interrupted, squeezing your hand. "I promise you, there’s nothing like that between us. She’s practically my sister." He paused, his gaze searching yours, his eyes filled with warmth. "Is that really what’s been bothering you?"

You nodded slowly, feeling a mix of relief and embarrassment washing over you. Fred was still holding your hand, his touch grounding you, and for the first time tonight, you finally looked up into his eyes. They were warm, soft, filled with something you couldn’t quite name, something that made hope flicker inside you.

"Well," he said quietly, his thumb brushing gently over the back of your hand, "if I’d known you were jealous, I would’ve done something about it sooner."

Your breath caught in your throat.  

"Jealous? I—I wasn’t—" you stammered, your cheeks burning.

Fred smiled softly, leaning closer, his eyes never leaving yours.  

"You were," he said gently, his voice teasing but affectionate. "And... I think I like it." His eyes flickered to your lips for a split second before returning to yours. "I think... I like you."

Your heart stuttered, his confession hanging in the air between you. The warmth of the fire, the way he was looking at you—it was overwhelming. But for the first time, it didn’t feel like you were making a fool of yourself. It felt like maybe, just maybe, your hopes weren’t so foolish after all.

"You... you really mean that?" you whispered, barely daring to believe it.

Fred grinned, squeezing your hand again.  

"Yeah, I really do."

And just like that, the ache in your chest began to lift, replaced by something warm and light—a flicker of hope that maybe, this time, things would be different.

The days following your confession with Fred passed in a blur, the bustling atmosphere of Hogwarts enveloping you in its usual hustle and bustle. The castle was decked out in festive decorations for the upcoming winter break—garlands of evergreens draped over staircases, candles twinkling like stars, and the faint scent of cinnamon drifting through the corridors. Yet, none of that seemed as magical as the way Fred Weasley was now treating you.

It started almost immediately after that heartfelt conversation in the common room. You could hardly catch your breath before Fred began seeking you out at every opportunity. It was as though a switch had flipped inside him, and he was determined not to let another moment slip by. The morning after, you were quietly sipping your pumpkin juice in the Great Hall when Fred slid onto the bench beside you, so casually that it nearly made you spill your drink.

“Morning,” he said, grinning widely as he nudged your shoulder playfully. “Saved you a spot.”

You couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your lips, even though your heart raced at his proximity. It was a heady mix of disbelief and delight—was this really happening? You nodded shyly in response, still getting used to this new, attentive version of Fred. The way he looked at you, with that warm sparkle in his eyes, sent a flurry of butterflies through your stomach.

In the days that followed, Fred’s usual playful teasing shifted into something deeper, more affectionate. You couldn’t take two steps in the castle without him appearing at your side, whether it was slipping into the chair next to you in the library or “coincidentally” bumping into you as you walked between classes. It was as if he couldn’t stand to be away from you, and every encounter left you feeling giddy and lightheaded.

One afternoon, as you chatted with your friends near the courtyard, Fred leaned against the wall nearby, waiting for you. When you finally noticed him, he shot you a cheeky grin. “Finally! Thought you’d forgotten all about me,” he teased, his eyes crinkling in that familiar way that made your heart flutter.

You tried to play it cool, rolling your eyes even as warmth spread through you. “You’re impossible, Weasley,” you muttered, unable to stop the smile tugging at your lips.

During Potions class, when you were paired together, Fred took full advantage of your close proximity. As you tried to focus on your bubbling cauldron, he leaned in close, his breath brushing your ear as he whispered jokes that sent shivers down your spine.

“You know,” he said in that low, teasing tone, “if I’d known you liked me that much, I would’ve asked you to be my personal cheerleader ages ago.”

You laughed, cheeks burning as you tried to keep stirring the potion. “Cheerleader? I think you’re confusing me with the actual Quidditch team,” you shot back, though your voice wavered slightly.

“Nah, I’d rather have you cheering just for me,” he said, his eyes locking onto yours. The lightness of his words was underscored by something far more genuine, something that made your heart race.

Yet despite his affectionate words, a tiny voice of doubt lingered in the back of your mind. Every time Fred brushed his fingers against yours or leaned in too close, your heart soared, but the question remained—was this just Fred being Fred? What if it was all just another one of his jokes?

One evening, after a long day of classes, you were walking back from Transfiguration when Fred fell into step beside you, his shoulder bumping yours playfully. “So,” he said, sounding almost nonchalant, “I was thinking... maybe we could sneak out after dinner tonight? I hear the view from the Astronomy Tower is pretty spectacular.”

You paused, turning to look at him, your heart thudding in your chest. “Are you... are you serious?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper, a thread of hope woven into your words.

Fred turned to face you fully, his teasing grin softening into something far more genuine. “Of course I’m serious,” he said, his voice quiet and earnest. “I... I want to spend time with you. Just the two of us.”

Later that night, you found yourself sneaking through the castle under the cover of Harry’s Invisibility Cloak. The thrill of sneaking around with him sent your heart racing as you tried to stifle your giggles whenever Filch’s footsteps echoed down the corridor. Fred’s hand held yours tightly, his warmth steadying you as he led you up the winding staircase to the Astronomy Tower.

When you reached the top, you stepped out into the cold, crisp night air. The sky above was clear, stars scattered like diamonds across a velvet expanse, the moon casting a silvery glow over the castle grounds. For a moment, it felt like you’d stepped into a dream.

Fred pulled the cloak off with a dramatic flourish, spreading it on the cold stone floor so you could sit. “Perfect spot, isn’t it?” he said, grinning as he settled beside you.

You nodded, sitting so close that your knees touched. The night was silent, except for the soft breeze and the occasional distant hoot of an owl. For once, Fred wasn’t joking or teasing. He was just watching you, his eyes reflecting the starlight.

“I’ve been thinking a lot since... well, since you told me how you felt,” Fred began, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. He reached for your hand, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. “I’m sorry I was so thick. I should’ve noticed sooner.”

You shook your head, your voice barely a whisper. “I never thought you’d... I didn’t think you felt the same.”

Fred’s gaze held yours, his eyes soft and sincere. “I do. I think I’ve liked you for a long time, but I was too busy being an idiot to realize it. But now that I know... I don’t want to waste any more time.”

Your breath caught as he leaned in closer, his gaze flicking to your lips. You nodded slightly, and that was all he needed. Fred closed the distance, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was warm, tender, and filled with all the words that had gone unspoken between you. The world seemed to melt away until it was just the two of you under the stars.

When you finally pulled away, you were both smiling like fools, your foreheads pressed together. “So... does this mean you’ll be cheering for me at every Quidditch match?” Fred teased, his grin returning.

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Only if you promise to score at least two goals every game.”

“Deal,” he whispered, sealing the promise with another soft kiss.

Sneaking back to the common room, your hands still intertwined, you couldn’t stop smiling. As you stepped through the portrait hole, a few friends shot you knowing glances, but Fred just pulled you closer, unfazed by the attention.

“Guess the whole castle’s going to know by morning,” you muttered, half-embarrassed, half-delighted.

“Good,” Fred said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Let them know. I’ve finally got the girl I’ve been waiting for.”

The two of you curled up together on one of the sofas by the dying fire, the warmth from the hearth wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. Fred rested his chin on top of your head, his arms around you. “You know,” he murmured sleepily, “I never thought I’d get this lucky.”

You smiled, snuggling closer to him. “Neither did I,” you whispered.

As the castle settled into peaceful quiet and the fire burned low, you drifted off in Fred’s arms, knowing that whatever came next, you’d face it together.

[stabby-apologist]

Shawnee Smith did it as impulse during a take and they left it in there lol

wait I didn’t remember amanda riding the back of the wheel chair like a shopping cart 💀💀 excuse the shitty gif but look

[yourbiggestcrybaby]

Dark Side

Tom Riddle X Reader

Tom is aware you have come from a school where the dark arts are taught. He knows you can help him and he knows just how to convince you

Warnings: slight manipulation, dark arts

The restricted section of the library was quiet. Tom watched you scan the shelves, an amused smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. You were so focused, so intent on finding something in these dusty old shelves. He knew what you were searching for, even if you didn’t know it yourself yet. Power. Knowledge that Hogwarts would never hand over to you willingly.

He let the silence stretch before stepping forward, making sure his footsteps were just loud enough to be heard. Predictably, you spun around, masking the flicker of surprise in your eyes almost as quickly as it appeared. A good sign. You were sharp, quicker than most, but Tom wasn’t worried about that. If anything, it made this more interesting.

"Looking for something forbidden, are we?" he murmured, keeping his voice low, watching you like a hawk. He saw the slight shift in your expression, the hint of wariness. Perfect. You were already on guard, already trying to figure him out. Good, he thought. Be curious. That’ll make this so much easier.

“Tom,” you replied, your tone carefully neutral. “Didn’t expect anyone else here.”

He smiled, just enough to put you off balance. “Ah, yes. You wouldn’t,” he replied smoothly, moving in closer, careful to make his steps calm, unthreatening. He had a knack for knowing when to press in and when to pull back, a skill that had already gotten him access to more knowledge than any other student his age. This was no different.

As he approached, he let his gaze drift to the book you’d picked up, one you’d clearly grabbed on impulse. The wrong choice, but he’d let you realize that on your own. Instead, he raised an eyebrow, amusement in his voice. "Interesting choice,” he said lightly. “But I’d think someone with your background would be interested in… other texts.”

He saw the faint flicker of unease in your eyes, the way you adjusted your grip on the book. So, he thought with a flash of satisfaction, it’s true. Your dark arts training didn’t fade as quickly as Dumbledore had hoped. He watched your expression carefully, knowing that his mention of your past would strike a nerve. It always did. People who came from the darker schools always felt that edge of suspicion in places like Hogwarts, the feeling of being an outsider, of hiding something.

“Maybe I am,” you replied, cool but not defensive. Not bad, he thought. You were trying to keep him at a distance, trying to keep control of the conversation. But you wouldn’t last long. He’d made sure of that.

“Oh, I have no doubt about that,” he said, a hint of intrigue in his voice. He let his tone stay casual, almost amused, but not enough to hide the curiosity in his eyes. He’d learned early on that interest was a powerful tool; people always responded to the thrill of being noticed. “But Hogwarts might not have what you’re used to. Not openly, anyway.” He watched you closely, seeing the way his words drew you in. “Still, you know the things taught where you are from aren’t forgotten here. If anything, they’re just… hidden better.”

The way you studied him then, the hint of resistance, it was clear you weren’t going to give in easily. He almost smirked. Good, he thought, his pulse quickening. It’s always more interesting when they resist.

“And why are you so interested in my old curriculum?” you asked, your voice still light, but he could hear the guarded edge.

He leaned back a little, letting his posture go easy, almost dismissive, knowing how much more effective that would be than anything intense. “Oh, I’m not interested in that,” he said, shrugging slightly. “I’m interested in you.” He let that sink in, watching as the idea took root. “A student who actually knows what magic can do beyond the harmless charms and tricks we’re taught here. I’d think you know spells and techniques that others couldn’t even imagine.” He paused, just long enough to watch your expression shift. “Which, naturally, would make you quite valuable.”

Valuable. That word always worked. It was true, after all, though not in the way you might have thought. Tom’s mind was already racing, already calculating how he might use what you knew, what you dark school had taught you. And the best part was that you wanted this power, even if you hadn’t fully admitted it to yourself. That hunger—it was just under the surface, buried behind all the polite airs and restraint you wore. He’d seen it in the way you looked at certain spells in class, the ones that made the others shrink back in fear. He knew exactly how to draw that side of you out.

“Valuable?” You raised an eyebrow, keeping your tone casual. “And you think you’re the one to show me how?”

He almost laughed. Predictable, he thought. You wanted to believe you could see through him, that you weren’t impressed. But he could see it in your eyes, that flicker of curiosity. He tilted his head, letting his gaze sharpen, his expression just serious enough to make you feel like he was seeing something no one else could. “I think you have a potential that most at this school couldn’t even comprehend. Power that few would understand.” He paused, as if measuring his words carefully. “You could accomplish so much, if only you'd... let go of certain reservations.”

He watched as your expression shifted, and he knew he’d struck a chord. Yes, he thought, his pulse quickening again. Let that sink in. It was always the first step. Plant the seed, make them doubt their limitations. After that, it was only a matter of time before they came to him willingly, before they were willing to do anything he suggested.

“I know you don’t believe in the rules, not really,” he continued, his voice calm and coaxing. “And Hogwarts isn’t giving you what you need. Not truly. They’re holding you back, but you’re far too intelligent to let the Ministry’s silly morals stand in your way.”

He could almost see the thoughts racing in your mind, the way you were weighing his words, considering the possibility of everything he was offering. Yes, he thought, pleased. Think about it. Let it fester.

[comradekarin]

ngl jily gang- why am I seeing little to no fics on archive that’s actually about them? and why am i seeing so much snape sympathy shit in the archive tag? snape has a heart? lily forgives snape au? snape cares about harry? lily and james bashing in JILY fics for bitchass snape of all people? don’t get me started of all this newfound jegulus- do not piss me off gang like what the fuck are we doing-

[gryffindorish]

James & Lily Potter, marauders era. PSD credit goes to shxhulk on deviantart.

[kenjikishimotoswifey]

DAMN HE HAS A REALLY HIGH GRYFFINDOR FEVER

HELP AND DRACO AND HARRY "Harry was a sensitive issue after he and Draco had almost kissed him when drunk at a Hufflepuff party." we know what you are draco...

mattheo was the sweetest person ever though that was absolutely adorable

i loved mattheo and reader's interactions and how it went from bothering her to mattheo being the major softie he actually is <3

where do we find him. he's not a want he's a need

Gryffindor Fever

Mattheo Riddle x Gryffindor!reader

Brought to you by this request. While the Slytherins usually bully you, everything drastically changes when you go missing and Mattheo finds out he might have, what Pansy calls: Gryffindor fever.

Happy readings lovely readers! 💛

“Wooh, your test went about as well as the last gryffindor quidditch game.” Mattheo laughed and half of the class chimed as you looked horrified at your test. Snape shushed the class only to hack into your emotional state himself. 

And if that had been it for today, you wouldn’t have complained but leave it to the slytherin douchebags to make your day worse. A smug looking Draco pushes everyone to the side to catch up with you, his cold eyes snaring at you, followed by his gang. “Being stupid can’t be helped. It comes with gryffindor colours, but dressing like you fell into your grandma’s laundry basket is your choice.” Theo snickers as he pulls your home knit scarf. You loosen your scarf and before you fully register what you're saying you’ve already snapped back at the tall slytherin. “Says the guy who doesn’t know how to use a comb.” You snap, darting mean eyes at his bird’s nest of a hairdo. Mattheo has to press his lips together, hiding his amusement at your feistiness, as Theo takes a big step towards you, only to be held back by Enzo. “Dumbledore is around the corner, think about the house cup, mate.” Enzo ushers in a loud whisper, making Theo turn around but not before his dead eyes curse you to the beyond. 

You give them a nasty look, before turning around a corner. “Nice one. Those guys need to be put in their place more often. Otherwise they’ll think they own hongwarts.” George says, but his voice echoes in the back of your head as you feel yourself get lightheaded. Suddenly you feel arms wrap around you and after a few deep breaths you manage to look up and meet Fred’s eyes. You regain strength and lift your hand to rest on your forehead. “I got dizzy for a moment.” You analyse out loud in a soft whisper. “Yeah, we noticed.” Fred voices his concern as he helps you sit down against a cold wall. George immediately conjures a cup of water for you, which you take with a soft smile. “I got way too worked up over my test and Snape’s lecture and those- those idiots.” The twins look at you with sympathy and to each other with a glitter in their eyes, for sure they would play a fantastic trick on those Slytherins for you getting so stressed. 

It was Hermoine’s advice that convinced you to ignore and avoid everyone and everything silver and green coloured. “Just study and find peace in the books.” She had told you over dinner that same day. You following her advice hadn’t gone unnoticed as Slytherins started to miss their favourite gryffindor to make a fool of. Harry was a sensitive issue after he and Draco had almost kissed him when drunk at a Hufflepuff party. Hermione was old news. And Ron was just too easy of a target. You were perfect, but as of the last few days: unfindable, since you hit in a corner of the library only nerdy ravenclaws and Hermione knew about. And apparently also Fred and George. 

“You gotta eat!” George exclaimed, losing his patience with you. “No. I got to study.” You mumble not looking up from your book. “Failing one test will not kill you, starvation will.” Fred added as he tried to reach for your book. You quickly pull your book closer. “I already failed a test, if I fail another Snape will kill me.” “Your brain needs food.” Fred says with a voice low and serious. “Later…” You say, your eyes meeting his for only a second. The twins sigh, but leave for the great hall in defeat. “Unbelievable, that one.” You hear George whisper, making you look at them walking away. I really should eat… after this chapter I should definitely eat something.

You did not eat after that chapter, in fact you studied late. Robbing yourself of sleep and draining yourself completely.

“Do you think (y/n) is alright?” Mattheo blurs out as he stares at the fire, standing still with his hands in his pockets. Pansy looks up from the novel she was reading, carefully studying Mattheo through her lashes before scanning the empty common room. It’s only when Mattheo turns to look at her that she puts her book away. “Do I look like the Gryffindor whisperer to you? No clue what that girl thinks. At this point I don’t even know what you’re thinking… What’s she to you?” Mattheo shrugs. “Just haven’t seen her in a while.” Pansy fakes a pout. “You must have the same thing as Draco…” Mattheo frowns, but Pansy’s quick to explain herself as she gets up and whispers in Mattheo’s ear: “Gryffindor fever.” 

Mattheo gives Pansy a look of disgust but quickly finds that he has no counterargument, because he really was worried about you. Pansy cheekily tilts her head to the side as she watches Mattheo struggle. Just as Mattheo has gathered enough words for a sentence the door to the common room is blown open and Mattheo is slung against a wall, making Pansy shriek and duck behind a couch. “Where is she, you snake?” George yells as both twins point their wands at Mattheo who is picking himself up off the ground. “What?!”

***

With panic in their eyes Fred, George and Mattheo flew over hogwarts’ grounds, quickly Mattheo grew impatient and started to explore the edge of the dark forest. You had been last seen by a hufflepuff who thought you were looking for potion ingredients, depending on what you were looking for you would have probably gone into the forest. Mattheo felt his heart racing, what if something bad had happened to you. He suddenly realised how silly he had been pretending he didn’t care about anyone, leave alone annoying Gryffindors. His grip on his broom tightened as it dawned on him that he only wanted people to think he didn’t care about you and that seemed so silly now. 

From a distance your body looks lifeless and Mattheo’s heart stopped beating for what felt like minutes until he wrapped you in his arms. A soft sound escapes your lips and a most gentle kiss on your head assures you that you’ll be alright. “Let’s get you back to the castle and all warmed up.” You were still pretty out of it but you could’ve sworn that sounded like Mattheo Riddle, but like the soft gentle version… Clearly you were not well yet, because that would be impossible. Instinctively you grab onto his warm clothes and snuggle in. Your whole body was drained of energy but you knew you were safe.

George opened the door to the Gryffindor common room and Fred held the door open while George threw everyone off the couch. Every Gryffindor in the room stood gawking as Mattheo carried you inside carefully. As Mattheo ever so gently lay you down on the couch, he heard Ron whisper: “Now I’ve seen everything.” Making the slytherin roll his eyes as he could already imagine the red head’s dumb face. Fred leans over you, softly whispering your name. George pushes both Mattheo and Fred away so he can lay a blanket over you and Fred tucks you in a little more as your eyes flutter open. Every student in the room has now surrounded the couch you’re laying on. “What happened?” Hermione asks, eyes darting between the twins. “Think she passed out.” George answers and Fred nods. “Yeah.” You whisper and you open your eyes fully to see everyone hang over the couch staring at you. “I probably shouldn’t have eaten and slept a bit more instead of just studying for Snape’s stupid test.”  

Mattheo just keeps his distance, feeling guilty for everytime he mistreated you. Not saying a word since he feels unworthy. Slowly he makes his way to the door as he hears you explain what happened. “Hey, is it possible I heard Riddle’s voice when I was in the forest?” You suddenly ask, making Mattheo hold his breath as the room falls silent. “Yeah…” George says as he moves away, so you see a soft looking Mattheo staring back at you. Mattheo swallows hard, gathering courage to say what he really wishes to say. “Take care of yourself.” There’s a sincerity in his voice, but the way he raises his hand to awkwardly wave you goodbye makes the whole ordeal just bizarre. Ron just stares at Mattheo with wide eyes as he leaves. “If I didn’t know any better I would think he genuinely cares for you, (y/n).” Yeah, if I didn’t know any better… I would think the same.

***

Mattheo had been on your mind ever since he left so awkwardly that night. You would often catch yourself trying to remember the warmth of that forehead kiss, his smell when you held onto him and his gentle words. It seemed so surreal. You shake your head trying to focus on the test in front of you, but again your thoughts drift to how ever since you passed out, not a single person has bothered you. Your eyes wander over to Mattheo obviously trying to see what Theo is writing on his test. In order to get yourself to focus, you promise yourself that you’ll confront Mattheo after Snape’s class. 

You patiently wait outside the classroom while Mattheo and Enzo try to suck up to Snape, since they had a bad feeling about the test. When both guys enter the hallway you immediately step in front of them. “Mattheo, can we talk?” Your voice came out softer than you expected. Enzo licked his lips, but Mattheo made sure nothing cheeky was said and sent Enzo away with one curt nod. “How did your test go?” Mattheo asks, to your surprise he sounded like any other student. There was no mocking tone and mean eyes staring you down. “It went pretty good, I guess… but you never know with Snape. He’s not really fond of Gryffindors.” Mattheo smiles. “You don’t say. Hadn’t noticed.” You chuckle and his eyes linger on your lips, adoring your soft laugh. 

“How are you?” He quickly picks up the conversation, worried his staring would weird you out. “I’m good. I’ve been eating properly and Ginny’s been making sure I go to bed on time, Fred and George’s orders.” A soft huff escapes Mattheo’s lips and you couldn’t quite figure out what it meant. “They’re good friends, those Weasley’s. You’re lucky you have them watching over you.” You couldn’t help but smile at him with loving eyes. There was something so adorable about Mattheo, you couldn’t have believed it if he wasn’t standing right in front of you. “Thank you.” You whisper, making Mattheo’s eyes shoot up to lock onto yours. “I’m lucky to have you as well.” You move to stand on your tippy toes and give a feather light kiss on his cheeks, turning the cold Slytherin into a blushing love struck puppy.  

Mattheo felt himself heat up and just stood there nailed to the floor as you walked away. And he could help but think back to Pansy’s words: This must be Gryffindor fever. 

Word count: 1803

[oldinterneticons]

[ilovecatfr]

Hogwarts shifting motivation

Common rooms Motivation

Genuinely informative~ even teachers need permission to get into the common room (unless they are the head of the house)

Slytherin

Slytherin common rooms are a good place for curious aquatic animals& creatures

{Example: mermaids coming to tap on class}

Imagine the afternoon light that gonna come through the water and how it gonna look

It the biggest common room

Being closest to potions class

There’s a hidden window that looks out into the depths of the Black Lake, allowing students to watch Grindylows and the Giant Squid pass by. Sometimes, an eerie glow from underwater plants illuminates the room at night.

The Serpent’s Whisper: If you listen carefully near the fireplace, you can hear a hissing sound—a remnant of an old Parseltongue spell cast by Salazar Slytherin himself. Some say it whispers advice to ambitious students

THE AESTHETIC OF IT/ DETAILS FOR IMAGINATION

Elegant and mysterious, with emerald-green lamps casting an eerie, calming glow. The room has a cold, sleek beauty, with high-backed leather chairs, silver accents, and tapestries depicting famous Slytherins and legendary beasts.

Furnishings: Green velvet armchairs and polished silver tables are arranged around a central fireplace carved with serpentine details. There are also large glass cases displaying rare magical objects collected by past Slytherin alumni.

Motivational Vibe: The Slytherin common room feels like a home for the ambitious and resourceful. It inspires cleverness, self-confidence, and power—a place for those unafraid to stand out and make their mark.

Hufflepuff

That common room is closest to kitchen so sneaking in to get snacks

hufflepuffs are known for having good weed (shifters confirmed)

When someone tries to enter the common room and press a wrong barrier they get covered in vinegar / to get in you need to tap barrier in rhythm of "Helga Hufflepuff"

A rumor has it that when a room is quiet enough you can hear humming~ a spell Helga Hufflepuff casted centuries ago to bring calmness to her house

THE AESTHETIC OF IT/ DETAILS FOR IMAGINATION

Warm and earthy, with lots of natural light filtering in through circular windows that open up to the Hogwarts grounds. It has a cottage-like charm, filled with lush plants, earthy tones, and the smell of freshly baked bread.

Furnishings: Soft, overstuffed sofas and cushions are scattered around. The tables are made from reclaimed wood, polished to a warm honey glow. Herbology books and gardening tools are kept on hand for anyone interested in plant care.

Motivational Vibe: The Hufflepuff common room is all about kindness, resilience, and loyalty. It’s perfect if you’re looking for a family-like environment where everyone supports each other. You’ll feel nurtured, grounded, and at peace.

Gryffindor

Imagine the fat lady’s joke every time before you enter and even riddles occasionally

Being Dumbledore favourite lmao

The secret door to Astronomy Tower~ There’s a narrow stairwell hidden behind a tapestry of Godric Gryffindor that leads up to the Astronomy Tower. It’s a favorite spot for stargazing on clear nights.

If you press the right spot on lions statue, a roar will fill the common room. Usually used before Quidditch matches and wins.

THE AESTHETIC OF IT/ DETAILS FOR IMAGINATION

Warm, cozy, and golden. Rich, ruby-red carpets cover the stone floors, and tapestries of legendary Gryffindors and courageous battles adorn the walls. A crackling fireplace is almost always lit, making it feel like a comforting, eternal hearth

Furnishings: Armchairs with plush cushions, covered in deep scarlet, are arranged in small clusters, perfect for gathering with friends. A large, golden lion statue stands near the entrance as a symbol of Gryffindor bravery.

Motivational Vibe: Gryffindor common room feels like a constant cheerleader, pushing you to be brave, adventurous, and loyal. It’s filled with energy, perfect for anyone who loves challenges and dreams of leaving a legacy.

Revenclaw

Imagine it being late at night and you are watching the celling as it has the same effects as great hall celling

Imagine seeing owls flying outside your window

Every window view being absolutely beautiful

If you recite a specific incantation, a spiral staircase appears near the bookshelf, leading to a hidden observatory. It’s the best spot in Hogwarts to view meteor showers or auroras. They call it the staircase of stars.

Rumor has it that a spellbook hidden centuries ago is still somewhere within the common room’s library shelves. Legend says only the wisest Ravenclaw can uncover its secrets.

THE AESTHETIC OF IT/ DETAILS FOR IMAGINATION

Elegant and airy, with tall, arched windows that give a panoramic view of the mountains and lake. The room is decorated in hues of silver, blue, and soft ivory, with a ceiling enchanted to resemble the night sky.

Furnishings: Sleek, polished wood tables for studying, with quills and inkpots always available. Softly glowing blue and white lamps cast an ethereal light over the room, making it feel like a dreamy nightscape.

Motivational Vibe: Ravenclaw common room is a heaven for those who love to think, dream, and explore the mysteries of magic. It’s an inspiring environment for those who strive for wisdom, originality, and creativity.

{these are from my dr and from I found online- so it may not be canon but feel free to script}

[emeritusemeritus]

Hi!

Can I request a oneshot,where the weasley twins got to a arguement with you, because they were a little extra flirty and their pranks going to far to the point it upset people,then it cause you to ignore them for 5 days straight. Making sure that you didn't bump into them in the hallways,didn't sit with them at (breakfast,lunch,and dinner),if you guys have classes together (since your in the same year) you either group up with someone else,or just simply not looking at them at all. Acting like,you didn't have two boyfriends who were always staring at you, thinking of a plan to get you to atleast look their way.

Then it all just ends with smut,the rest of the story can be anything you want.

THANKIES,LOVE YOUR WORK SO MUCH!💝😸😍😘

Hi lovely Anon! I hope you are well. Thank you very much for your kind words and for this request, I hope you enjoy! I’m sorry there���s not much smut at the end, I’ve been writing it pretty much for two days straight so it’s more an a non-graphic, implied kind of smut! 🖤

Warnings: a bit of angst, a bit of smut. Non graphic smut, implied sexual references. The twins being unapologetically themselves. Pranks, injury, minor genital injury, no blood.

Word count: 2.9k

Actions and Consequences

It had been five days since you'd last spoken to your boyfriends after that night in the common room. You were done with their stupid antics. For too long now you'd come second place to their inventions; you could deal with the long hours spent working on their creations, the aftermath of them testing their products on themselves and the amount of time spent grifting for sales but what you absolutely wouldn't deal with was them completely ignoring you for the sake of their 'customers'. Not to mention their completely lack of morality or remorse for anyone even as people suffer and endure the consequences of their stupid pranks. Or their complete blindness to real life consequences which had really bitten them in the arse lately... not that it seemed to make a blind bit of difference.

It may have all been funny once, but this time they'd gone too far.

You'd spent your time in the library, walking the grounds, helping out Hagrid and hanging out with your other friends, finding that without the twins' constant disruptions you were so much more productive. You actually had free time again, had gotten ahead of your school work and were completely up to date with your homework. Besides the crippling heartache, you were doing okay. Or maybe you weren't, but you wouldn't allow yourself to give them the satisfaction of knowing how deeply you were pining for them, or give them even a slight clue that they occupied your mind almost 24/7.

You'd ignored every one of their attempts to communicate, wanting them to feel exactly as you had when your wants and needs had been ignored. You knew it was petty but you just couldn't be around them right now, too hurt to carry on as you were. Fred had tried first, tried to bulldoze his way through your emotional boundaries under the guise of yet another joke or prank, another chance to break the rules. He'd learnt very quickly that this method did not and would not work, throwing him off completely. George had been slightly more sensitive in his approach but had still missed the mark entirely. Neither of them had apologised, not to you and not to Neville who had been caught in the crossfire of their invention testing. They'd even sent Hermiome over to try and 'talk some sense into you' but you'd quickly shut down her feeble attempt at being an unwitting participant and had instead diverted the conversation to S.P.E.W, which had earned you an hour long lecture on Elf rights, but at least the topic of the twins was quickly forgotten.

Any further attempt to reach out to you fell on deaf ears and was met with a neutral yet disappointed expression and absolutely no enthusiasm. You'd taken to eating with Katie and your other friends, trying not to spend any time in a place where the twins would be able to find you.

Their gazes upon you were constant, their eyes almost more persistent than their words. You could feel the heat from their stares on you morning and night, in the great hall, in classes, the common room. Sometimes you just felt like you were being watched constantly, though of course you weren't.

But you couldn't deny that your days had become infinitely more boring since you had been ignoring your boyfriends and trying to teach them some consequences. Boring but peaceful, you kept reminding yourself as you felt your stubbornness starting to slip. You missed them badly by the fifth day but reasoned that they had a lesson to learn even if it made you suffer in the process. You'd walked into your dorm after classes to find some fizzing whizbees placed on your bed that you knew would be from the twins. It made your heart pang for a moment as you looked upon the gift, knowing that they were your absolute favourite chocolate and that the twins didn't have any money so they must have begged borrowed and stolen for this. But then you remembered why they didn't have any money, bloody Ludo Bagman. With regret and a growling protesting stomach, you'd given Ginny the Whizbees, telling them to give them back to her brothers, though you knew that it was a step too far for your broken heart.

"What's it going to take?" Ginny asks, looking up at you from her bed as you hand her the delicious treats.

"An apology," you reply.

-♡-

"I have an announcement. Oi gits, put down your knitting and listen here!" Fred suddenly shouts from the centre of the common room, immediately grabbing everyone's attention. It's Friday night and everyone had been sat around the common room after dinner, branching off into different activities. You hadn't seen the twins since dinner and figured they were off somewhere causing mayhem, thinking no more of it. Dean reaches out and turns down the radio as the buzz of talking and laughter fades quickly, everyone falling silent as they look towards Fred. You heave out a sigh, really not wanting to give him anymore attention and so you didn't look up to him, choosing instead to keep your eyes on your book.

"I Fred Gideon Weasley, would like to formally apologise for my behaviour and careless actions the other night, well since birth actually," he says as he stands on top of one of the high tables near the stairs, as if he even needed the extra height to tower over everyone. Truthfully, you'd stopped reading the minute he's started talking, only feigning interest in the pages so that you wouldn't have to look at the stupidly handsome man. You could see the faint outline of him in your peripheral vision and it was enough.

"And I George Fabian Weasley would like to mirror that apology," you hear George say, pulling your attention even further, but you still don't look up. "And extend my greatest apologies to Neville Longbottom who unwillingly consumed one of our canary creams last week, turning him into a great big yellow bird. We're sorry we didn't warn you."

"Or know that you were terrified of birds," Fred adds, but you can almost hear the smirk that he's wearing.

"But to our girl," Fred adds, your heart pounding. "We want to apologise to our beautiful girl y/n y/n."

"Our long suffering girlfriend," George adds.

You look up now, completely forgetting the book in your lap as your eyes meet George's and then Fred's. They don't look remorseful per se, but you knew when they were being genuine. Your heart constricts, feeling suddenly awkward that they are doing this in public.

"We're sorry Angel, never meant to upset you or ignore you and this is our public apology to you."

"Of course we'll apologise later in private," Fred says with a smirk, earning a feel whoops and cheers from the crowd at the suggestion and you feel your cheeks heat up at the insinuation. He chuckles finding your wide eyes and flushed face in the crowd before continuing. "We never meant to embarrass anyone, even old Neville, no offence Neville." You watch as Neville raises his hand slightly in response to Fred, having been called out personally.

"So, in an attempt to show you that we are clearly reformed men who want nothing more than their future wife to forgive them, we're giving our sweet girl the chance to embarrass us, right here, in front of everyone."

You frown, thoroughly confused by their words.

"Ronald, be a dear," Fred calls out to his younger brother sat closest to you, gesturing for him to bring you up to them. He flushes bright pink, the smile slipping from his face at the audience participation section and you make it easy on him, placing your hand on his shoulder as you walk past towards the twins, your book long forgotten.

"A round of applause for our beautiful girl!" Fred says with a menacing grin, waving his arms frantically as the common room erupts with a loud roar of applause, making you want to run and hide.

"Now princess, you can do."

"Anything at all," George adds.

"To embarrass us," they say together.

"As justice for our professional negligence."

You don't have time to think of your options nor react as a deafening crack echoes around the common room as it falls silent, each person waiting in anticipation for what was going to happen. The twins shoot each other identical looks of shock and horror as the loud creak turns into a brief snapping noise, followed instantly by them tumbling to the ground with an almighty thud as the table beneath them splinters and collapses under their feet. You rush forward towards them, careful to avoid the masses of falling books, ornaments and the many many pieces of wood that had splintered around.

George appears first, completely unharmed and unfazed with a wicked smile on his face. The common room erupts in laughter and cheers but dies down slightly when you reach Fred who is doubled over, clutching his groin.

Apparently he'd landed awkwardly and had somehow managed to injure himself in the process, catching the 'family jewels' on the way down.

He stands slowly with your help, keeping a firm hold of your hand as he raises one arm, still slightly hunched over, forcing a smile onto his face as the common room cheers again. People begin to disperse after that, the show over and not wanting to be part of the cleanup. You wave your wand and begin to tidy the mess, hermione and Ginny helping levitate larger pieces and ornaments off to one side for now as Harry lifts the shell of the bookcase and flings it into the corner.

"Don't think you'll be apologising in the way you wanted Weasley," Seamus says as he walks past, a cheeky grin on his face as he wiggles his eyes at Fred.

"Shove off Finnegan," Fred shoots back, though his voice is still strained. "Git."

"Well I still can," George smirks, throwing his arm around your shoulder and giving you a smile, winking in your direction.

"Come to our dorm?" He asks into your ear, earning a little nod from you in conformation.

"Think you can make it big boy?" You ask Fred, seeing his face still scrunched up. He looks up towards you and squints in a mock glare, not caring for your apparent lack of sympathy.

"We are sorry Angel, we went too far," George says as he pulls you into his arms. You don't resist, more than happy by their attempts of apology. "We didn't really think about it and we'll try better next time. We promise that we'll never ignore you or put you second again, you're everything to us."

"I think it's been ripped off," Fred murmurs from behind you, still clutching his groin as he walks slowly into the dorm, closing the door with a flick of his wand.

Ignoring his twin completely, George smiles down at you, hand reaching up for your chin to keep your attention on him.

"Can we still call you our girl?"

You smile back up at him and nod, feeling better in his arms than you had all week.

"Don't go missing on us again," he says, "you're ours remember." He leans down to kiss you, hands simultaneously wandering and holding you tightly to his body.

"I'm never going to get hard again. It's done for, I'm ruined for life."

You realised almost as soon as their next big idea struck that long term consequences were just not a consideration for George and Fred, though this time you were neither angry nor upset. You'd realised somewhere along the way that the last thing the twins needed was someone else picking them apart, playing on their faults and trying to teach them a lesson of conformity. What they really needed was understanding and support of their future business and an occasional redirection for their more wild attempts. Though of course the main lesson had been learnt and then did now consider how their pranks and stunts would affect someone else, which was a big step (Ron didn't count in that agreement apparently).

So when the twins were mercilessly flung back from the Triwizard cup, landing on the stone floor with a great thud and immediately began spouting big white bushy beards, hair and eyebrows, you laughed along with everyone else. You were doubled over with laughter as they rolled on the floor squabbling about the consequences of the ageing potion and whose fault it was, knowing yourself that they were equally as guilty. They laughed along with the crowd who were in hysterics and when Fred caught your eye, seeing you with tears of laughter streaming down your face, he only laughed harder.

"Well, What do you think?" Fred smirks, running his hand through his white beard that could rival Dumbledore. Your vision was blurry with your tears of laughter, only made worse when he gets close to you, the ridiculousness of his appearance even more absurd up-close.

"I think you're an idiot," you say with a smile, holding back a wheeze.

"Come on baby, you're telling me this does nothing for you?" He says, trying to reach out for you and wiggling his ridiculous eyebrows at you suggestively.

"Not unless you're holding a sack and giving out presents... don't!"

He bursts with fresh laughter at your words, followed by another boom of laughter when George comes up behind you and attempts to kiss your cheek, the white bushy beard feeling awful against your cheek. You squirm out of their holds, completely disgusted at the thought of kissing them whilst they looked like that.

"I'm hurt, injured, I'll never recover, my girl swerving from my kisses!" George says dramatically, raising his hand to his forehead as if he's ready to faint from the hurt. You simply roll your eyes with a smirk on your face.

"Turn back ginger and you can have all the kisses you want," you say towards George who is still trying to cuddle up behind you despite your mocking attempts to bat him away. He chuckles in your ear and suddenly reaches out to press a wet, sloppy kiss to your cheek before running away with a boyish laugh. You grimace playfully, wiping the spit away from your cheek as you attempt to recover from the feel of his beard ghosting your skin.

"But it's like a view into the future," Fred adds, gesturing as his white hair.

"Then I want to break up."

"Can I at least keep the beard?"

"Madame Pomfrey now... then come find me later," you say suggestively, reaching and stroking his tie, making his eyes widen in excitement.

Immediately he runs off towards his twin, finding it easier than ever to spot him amongst the crowd as you try and locate someone else amongst the crowd.

"Boys!" You shout, earning their attention straight away as they pause, turning to you with curious looks on their faces just as they are about to exit the hall.

There's a blinding flash and they squint at the sudden brightness as you thank the boy beside you, gratefully accepting the Polaroid that Colin had snapped for you. Your laugh echoes around the hall as the moving picture develops, seeing their surprised faces, wide eyes and wild beards captured eternally on the film.

"One for the wedding album," you smirk, shooting them a wink as you place the photo in the pocket of your robes, still laughing as you walk away.

-♡-

"You know, I really like your hair long like this," you say to George later on that night in the privacy of their dormitory. Lee had been unceremoniously shipped off the second the twins had arrived back from the hospital wing looking 100 years younger and back to their gorgeous ginger selves.

"Why's that baby?" George mumbles as he kisses the skin of your thighs, adding to the fire that threatened to consume you. You smirked, reaching out for his soft shaggy hair, running your fingers through the long beautiful strands of fire red hair before giving a gentle tug as you move him closer to your weeping core.

"Better for steering," you smirk, biting your lip as you give him your most seductive smile. You're instantly rewarded with a chuckle from the very naked twin behind you and secondly with a deliciously arousing swipe of George's tongue through your folds, the tip of his tongue deliberately catches your aching clit making you gasp out his name and throw your head back onto Fred's shoulder behind you.

"So you don't like older men then princess?" Fred teases as his hands reach out to cup your heaving breasts, his thumbs gliding over your hardened nipples at the very same time that George's lips suck on your clit perfectly.

"Just you two," you manage to gasp out as your hips rise for George, keeping your fingers firmly embedded within his hair, thinking of how incredibly lucky you were to be in this opposition, dealing with the consequences of your actions.

[lenaswritingandstuff]

Like I said above, there will be the same story with Lorenzo, Mattheo and Theo. Anyone got an idea on what to call the "series"?

Right again • Tom Riddle x f!reader

Requested: No

Pairing: Tom Riddle x f!reader (+ SPOILER x f!reader)

Summary: Tom, who always thought relationships were meaningless, changed his mind when he met y/n. He plans on telling her how he feels, however, it doesn't go as planned, and he finds himself to be right - again.

Word count: 1.1K

Warnings: Fluff; angst; English is not my first language.

A/N: It wasn't supposed to be this long lmao. I will write the same plot with Mattheo, Draco, Lorenzo and Theo in the future - hopefully with a better title lol. PLEASE PLEASE DON'T LET THIS FLOP OR YOU WON'T SEE ME ON HERE AGAIN LOL. Comments and feedback are always appreciated. Sorry for the typos. Hope you enjoy it! xx

Tag list: @helendeath @im-jesus @wolfyychan @blocked-zombieartist

Tom Riddle was in his dorm, one of the only places in Hogwarts where he could be by himself, and where he could be doing the things he enjoyed the most - studying and reading, both in silence. But, despite being currently sitting on his desk - always perfectly arranged -, he was not currently reading a book or studying. Instead, he was doing something he never thought he would do and was feeling something he never thought he would feel: thinking about a girl, and being nervous about a girl. 

Contrary to Mattheo and his friends, Tom has never cared for relationships - he could barely bear being around Mattheo’s friends if serious, meaningful discussions or activities weren’t involved. Sure, he cared for Mattheo, more than he cared to admit, because they were of the same blood. And for Tom, blood was one of the things that mattered the most, alongside loyalty, knowledge and influence. 

And y/n. 

Tom had always thought Mattheo was the only person he could ever care for - after all, they needed to have some sort of loyalty towards each other if they wanted to have a chance to fight their father - but, just like he was surprised to learn he did not want to follow his father in his quest for tyranny, Tom was surprised to find himself caring for y/n. 

Just like he had never cared for friendship, Tom had never cared for love. He did not think it was a weakness as his father did, but he did think it was not as important as people made it out to be. And, also, why care for love when something terrible, something that would likely cost lives was being prepared? 

But then again, y/n challenged that idea. Despite being in the same house and the same year, it took Tom several years to properly notice her. He knew she was one of Mattheo’s close friends outside of his usual group, and that gave them occasions to spend time together. Strangely, Tom had first found her company more tolerable than the others - she seemed to understand his will for silence, deep conversations and his interests, seemed to have the same thirst for knowledge. She was kind as well, having what people called “a heart of gold”, always ready to help anybody in need. She was also warm and funny, two things she shared with Mattheo, and it usually didn’t take people enough to want to be her friend. Tom had considered y/n the closest thing he had to a friend, and he thought he would stay that way until, one day, he saw her and Mattheo sitting closer to each other than usual, and he felt something strange, something he didn’t expect to feel, and something he struggled to understand - jealousy. He didn’t think it was that at first, but it became obvious it indeed was jealousy when he found himself wishing that he was the one sitting next to her, and not Mattheo. 

From that moment, he kept thinking about y/n in ways he had never done before - how beautiful she was, how he loved her smile, how he wanted to hold her hand, to smell her addictive perfume, to be the person who mattered most to her… how he wanted to hold and kiss her. He had considered those thoughts as foolish at first and tried to not have them, but everytime he was with y/n, they came back running, and he sometimes had to restrain himself from sitting closer to her just to smell her perfume when they were in class, or to hold her hand when they were studying in the library. He didn’t have anybody to ask questions to - Mattheo would laugh at him - so, like he always did, Tom gave himself the answer: it was love. At first, he thought it was only temporary and it didn’t even cross his mind to tell her about it, but he was forced to admit that, instead of disappearing, those feelings became stronger with each day passing. The idea displeased him, and he tried to avoid y/n so these feelings would go away, but it was in vain, and only made him miss y/n - and made him love her more. But one day, as he was sitting on his desk busy thinking about her instead of studying, the idea of just telling her how he felt seemed right. Of course, the idea of rejection secretly terrified him, but he would accept simply being her friend. y/n deserved a loyal, sincere friend and that is what Tom was. All she had to do was give him a chance he could be the boyfriend - the word seemed so meaningless compared to what he felt - she deserved, a boyfriend who would be loyal, caring, sincere, and who would put her and her needs and safety first.  

Thus, he got her favorite flowers, and, having thought about what to say to her for hours, decided to go and ask her to have a moment of her time. And now the time had come. He grabbed the bouquet, and, trying to pull himself together, left his dorm. At that hour, y/n should be in the common room. With a bit of luck, she would be alone. Tom headed for the common room, which was nearly empty except for two first years laughing. He started looking for y/n, and his heart, which had started to beat faster with nervosity and hope, almost broke. 

y/n was indeed here, standing in a corner of the room - kissing Mattheo, who had a hand on her waist and the other in her hair. He broke the kiss, looked at her in a way Tom had never seen him and y/n had a smile before Mattheo pressed his lips on hers like he couldn’t help it. 

Tom took a step back, and the only thing that stopped him from dropping the bouquet was the noise he knew it would make. He turned around and quickly yet silently went back to his dorm - where the flowers finally met the ground. His back against the door, he almost wanted to laugh now. How could he have been so foolish? It should have been obvious to him from the start that y/n, warm and kind y/n, would prefere Mattheo, Mattheo would everybody loved or at least fond of, who had no problems making friends and be with people, Mattheo who had never been anything like their father. Mattheo, who people didn’t intimidate or rightfully found cold and strange. 

You’ve won, brother. 

As always, Tom Riddle found he had been right. Love was meaningless, and he should never have cared for it - should have never cared for her - in the first place. 

He was right, but for the first time in his life, he wished he wasn’t.

Want to be on the permanent tag-list or for specific characters/fandoms? Feel free to use my Ask-Box!

Next projects

Masterlist

[seaside-storm]

DRACO MALFOY Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (2009)

[amara-scott]

Imagine... ...Mattheo promising to protect you by erasing every memory of you from his own mind so Voldemort won’t use you against him. When you approach him the next day, his eyes are empty, cold—he has no idea who you are, and he walks away without a second glance.

The tears streaming down your cold cheeks feel like fire burning your skin. Your vision almost too blurry to focus on his pained expression. “You can’t just erase everything we are, Mattheo. You’re asking me to lose you.”

You can tell he holds back a groan, growing more frustrated, more desperate. “And I’m asking myself to lose you, too. Do you think this is easy for me? Every second I remember you, he’s closer to finding out. To finding you.”

Finding you. Mattheo always promised to protect you, not let his dark heritage get the better of your relationship. “Then let me fight this with you. We’re stronger together, we always have been.” You try taking his hands, warm against your cold fingers. He hesitates, eyes fixed on the space between you, carefully taking a step closer.

“Not this time, (Y/N).” His voice breaks slightly, “the Dark Lord knows I’d do anything to keep you safe—and he’s going to use that. He’s going to rip us apart if I don’t do this now.”

You know in that moment that he has made up his mind a long time ago. The storm brewing in his mind calming down and a clear vision left behind. A vision you would never be prepared to face. Never wanted to face.

“So you’re just going to walk away, forget me like I was nothing?” The words leaving your quivering lips were harsh. You knew that. Mattheo's piercing eyes find yours as he steps back, pulling his hands away from you.

“Don’t you get it? You’re not ‘nothing,’ (Y/N), you’re–” he cuts off, looking up to find the right words, eyes glossy as he catches my eyes again, “You’re my everything. And if that means you’ll be safe, I’ll let myself be nothing to you.”

"And what about me? What do I do when you’re gone?” You feel the next wave of nausea hit you at the thought of not having the chance to pull him into your embrace again. Not having the opportunity to turn to him with your thoughts. Not seeing that smirk of his every time you playfully fight with him over mindless stuff, knowing he is right.

“You live. You live a life where you don’t have to look over your shoulder. You find happiness, and maybe, just maybe, you’ll forget me too.”

[badger-tales]

Unyielding Devotion//D.M x Reader

a/n: The way I've been waiting for a Draco request!!!!! i hope i did him justice, it's kind of a compilation on Draco being jelouse lmao. also my requests are open guys HERER IS WHAT I WRITE

request:

BADGER I CANNOT FIND ANY GOOD DRACO MALFOY X READER FANFIC!

-Ahem- sorry for yelling.

Can you please write for canon- Draco? Why is everyone making him soft ⁉️⁉️ I feel like he would be different to someone he is with but his whole personality wouldn’t change??? He would still be a lil toxic? Maybe it’s the ✨unhealed trauma ✨ speaking for me?

Anyway. Please can you do a canon-Draco imagine? It can be fluff or smut but please NO ANGST. I am sad enough and I need to escape to a beautiful fantasy land. Can you have Draco keep his personality and be a little toxic for the reader? Jealousy, possession, short fuse idk. Let’s make him jealous? Yes that sounds good.

Do what you will with this information. I am sorry I took forever to get to the point.

kthxluvyoubye

word count: 7.9k

 The Slytherin common room was a living, breathing entity that evening. The emerald flames in the fireplace flickered with a lively glow, casting verdant light on the stone walls adorned with old tapestries depicting serpents and legendary Slytherin wizards of old. The air was filled with the hum of laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the smooth jazz pouring from a bewitched gramophone in the corner. It was a celebratory mood, students letting loose after a grueling week of classes, and everything seemed to pulse with an energy that was almost tangible.

Draco Malfoy stood at a distance, his silver eyes observing the scene, but his focus was entirely on you. You stood by one of the darker alcoves, a small smile playing at your lips as you chatted with Blaise. Your laughter, light and melodic, reached Draco's ears despite the noise of the crowded space, and it seemed to hang in the air like an invitation—a sound that made his chest tighten. He watched as Blaise leaned closer to you, his head dipping to whisper something that made you smile wider, and Draco's stomach twisted uncomfortably.

The feeling gnawed at him, a mix of irritation and something else—something primal. Blaise was far too close. He didn't like the way Blaise's hand lingered near your arm, or the way you leaned in to hear what he was saying. He clenched his jaw, his gaze darkening. The Slytherin common room, full of chatter and festive spirit, seemed to blur at the edges, narrowing until all he could see was you and Blaise, and that smile on your face.

He didn’t even realize he was moving until he was standing beside you. Blaise looked up at Draco with a knowing smirk, his dark eyes twinkling with amusement as Draco slipped an arm around your waist, pulling you tightly against his side. It was a possessive movement, one that made his intentions very clear—you were his, and Blaise needed to remember that.

“Having fun?” Draco's voice was smooth, deceptively calm, but you could feel the tension radiating off of him. His fingers pressed firmly into your side, his body a solid wall against your own. You looked up at him, meeting his stormy eyes, and saw the sharp edge behind his seemingly casual demeanor.

“Yeah, we were just talking about—” you began, but Draco cut you off, his gaze never leaving Blaise.

“I’m sure you were,” he said, his voice laced with an undertone that was anything but friendly. He shot Blaise a look, his gray eyes glinting with a silent warning—back off. The smirk on Blaise's face only grew wider, his eyes flicking between the two of you before he raised his hands in a mock gesture of surrender.

“Alright, alright. I know when I’m not wanted,” Blaise drawled, his lips curling into an amused smile. He winked at you before stepping away, the knowing grin still plastered on his face as he melted back into the crowd, leaving you and Draco alone.

Draco let out a soft huff, his eyes following Blaise until he disappeared from sight. His arm around your waist tightened, drawing you even closer, and you could feel the way his body was still coiled with tension. It wasn’t just jealousy—it was something deeper, a need to assert himself, to make sure everyone knew that you were his and no one else’s.

“You shouldn’t encourage him,” Draco muttered, his voice low, almost a growl. He finally looked down at you, his gaze softening just slightly as he took in your expression.

You rolled your eyes, though a small smile tugged at your lips. “Draco, you’re being ridiculous,” you said, your voice light, trying to ease the tension.

“Maybe,” he allowed, his eyes flickering over your face, as if searching for something. His grip on you didn’t loosen; if anything, it tightened, his fingers pressing into your side possessively. “But you’re mine, and I don’t like sharing.”

He pulled you even closer, his body flush against yours now, and you could feel the way his heartbeat thudded against your shoulder, a steady rhythm that betrayed the emotions swirling beneath his calm exterior. His breath was warm against your ear as he leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, his voice a soft whisper meant only for you. “And if I see him getting too close again, I won’t be so nice next time.”

The threat in his voice was unmistakable, but there was something else there too—a vulnerability, a fear of losing you that he would never admit aloud. It made your heart skip a beat, a thrill running through you that was equal parts excitement and trepidation. You could feel the tension in his body, the way his fingers dug into your waist, and a part of you couldn’t deny how it made your pulse quicken, how it made your heart race in a way that was both exhilarating and slightly terrifying.

You turned your head slightly, your nose brushing against his cheek as you looked up at him. His eyes were dark, the usual sharpness softened by something more tender, something raw and unguarded. You reached up, your fingers brushing against his jaw, feeling the tautness there, the way his muscles were still clenched in irritation.

“You don’t need to worry about Blaise,” you said softly, your voice barely audible over the noise of the common room. “I’m here with you, aren’t I?”

His eyes searched yours, and for a moment, the mask slipped. You saw the uncertainty there, the fear that lurked beneath all that arrogance and confidence. He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly, and then he nodded, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction.

“Yeah,” he murmured, his voice softer now, the edge gone. “You are.”

For a moment, the world around you seemed to fade away—the laughter, the clinking glasses, the crackling of the fire—all of it melted into the background as you stood there, wrapped in Draco’s arms, feeling the intensity of his gaze, the warmth of his body against yours. There was something intoxicating about it, about the way he held you like you were the most important thing in the world, like he couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.

Slowly, his lips curved into a small smile, and he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Just... stay close, alright?” he whispered, his voice almost tender now, the possessiveness giving way to something gentler, something more vulnerable.

You nodded, a smile tugging at your lips as you wrapped your arms around him, resting your head against his chest. “Always,” you promised, and you felt him relax, his arms wrapping around you more securely, as if he could shield you from the rest of the world.

The common room continued to buzz around you, but in that moment, it was just the two of you, wrapped up in each other, the rest of the world fading into insignificance. And as you stood there, you couldn’t help but feel that, despite his flaws, despite his jealousy, there was nowhere else you’d rather be than right there, in Draco’s arms, feeling his heart beat steadily beneath your cheek. His possessiveness might have been overwhelming to others, but to you, it was just another sign of how much he cared, and you couldn’t deny the thrill it brought you, knowing that you meant so much to him.

The stands were full, the air thick with anticipation as the game between Slytherin and Gryffindor raged on. The cheers of the crowd blended together, a deafening roar that seemed to vibrate in your very bones. The sky above was a brilliant blue, dotted with the darting figures of players on broomsticks, their robes billowing behind them as they raced for the Quaffle. You were in the stands, the Slytherin section awash with green and silver banners, your voice already hoarse from cheering for Draco and the rest of the team. The energy was palpable, a frenetic buzz that swept through the crowd like wildfire.

Amidst the excitement, you felt a tap on your shoulder. Turning, you found yourself face-to-face with a Gryffindor boy, his red and gold scarf standing out sharply against the sea of green around you. He was grinning, his eyes alight with the thrill of the game, and he leaned in slightly to make himself heard over the roar of the crowd.

“Quite a match, isn’t it?” he shouted, his voice barely carrying above the noise. You nodded, smiling politely as he continued to speak, his words blending into the cacophony of cheers and jeers around you. He seemed friendly enough, his demeanor open and easy, and soon you found yourself caught up in a light conversation, exchanging comments about the game and laughing at his jokes.

What you didn’t notice was the way Draco’s eyes narrowed dangerously from his position on the field. He had just passed the Quaffle to a teammate when he glanced over at the stands, his gaze instinctively searching for you. When he spotted you, his eyes locked onto the scene—the Gryffindor boy leaning in, you laughing at something he said, the easy smile on your face. A surge of irritation flared within him, his focus momentarily slipping from the game as he glared at the red and gold-clad intruder.

His grip on his broom tightened, his knuckles turning white as he forced himself to look away, to concentrate on the match. But the image lingered, a thorn in his side that only seemed to dig deeper with each passing moment. He pushed himself harder, diving for the snitch with a ferocity that had his teammates glancing at him in surprise. By the time the final whistle blew, signaling Slytherin’s victory, Draco was a bundle of barely-contained frustration, his jaw clenched as he landed and dismounted his broom.

The celebration in the stands was immediate, a wave of cheers and applause washing over the pitch as the Slytherin team was mobbed by their supporters. But Draco had only one thought in mind as he scanned the crowd, his eyes locking onto you almost immediately. He strode towards you, still in his Quidditch gear, his hair windswept, cheeks flushed from the exertion of the game. His eyes were stormy, a mix of triumph and something far darker as he reached you, his hand closing around your arm—gently, but firmly enough to leave no room for argument.

“Come with me,” he said, his voice low, and without waiting for a response, he began to lead you away from the throng of celebrating students. You followed, confused but not resisting, as he pulled you aside, away from prying eyes and the noise of the crowd.

“What was that?” he snapped once you were alone, his eyes flashing as he turned to face you. His chest was still heaving from the game, his hair slightly disheveled, and there was an intensity in his gaze that took you off guard.

“What was what?” you asked, genuinely confused. You could see the tension in his posture, the way his shoulders were squared, his jaw set, and you couldn’t understand what had him so worked up.

“That Gryffindor git,” Draco bit out, his eyes narrowing at the memory. “You looked like you were having a real good time with him.”

Realization dawned, and you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. “Are you jealous?” you asked, your tone teasing as you raised an eyebrow at him.

Draco scoffed, his grip on your arm tightening slightly, his eyes darkening. “I don’t get jealous,” he said, though the edge in his voice betrayed him. “I just don’t want you wasting your time on people who aren’t worth it.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at that, shaking your head. “Sure, Draco. Whatever you say.”

His eyes narrowed at your response, and before you could react, he pulled you closer, his hand sliding from your arm to wrap around your waist, his fingers digging in slightly. His body was still radiating heat from the match, and you could feel the tension thrumming through him, a coiled energy that hadn’t yet dissipated. He leaned down, his lips hovering just above yours, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver down your spine.

“You need to remember who you belong to,” he said, his eyes boring into yours, the intensity of his gaze making your breath catch. “I won’t tolerate anyone trying to take what’s mine, understand?”

His words were possessive, almost dangerously so, but there was something else beneath them—a vulnerability, a fear of losing you that he couldn’t hide, not entirely. His eyes searched yours, waiting for a response, daring you to argue.

You reached up, your hand resting against his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palm. “Draco,” you whispered, your voice soft, meant to soothe. “I’m not going anywhere. You don’t need to worry about anyone else.”

For a moment, the tension in his eyes eased, the hardness giving way to something softer, something almost tender. He exhaled slowly, his forehead coming to rest against yours as he closed his eyes, the fight leaving his body in a rush. His arms tightened around you, pulling you flush against him, and you could feel the way his body relaxed, the tension slowly ebbing away.

“Good,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. “Because I don’t think I could handle it if you did.”

You smiled, your fingers brushing against his jaw as you tilted your head up, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I’m yours, Draco,” you whispered against his mouth, and you felt him smile in response, a small, relieved curve of his lips that made your heart swell.

The roar of the crowd was still loud in the background, the celebration continuing without you, but in that moment, it was just the two of you, wrapped up in each other, the rest of the world fading away. And as Draco held you, his lips brushing softly against yours, you knew that despite his jealousy, despite his flaws, there was nowhere else you’d rather be than right there, in his arms, feeling the fierce, unyielding love he had for you.

You were sitting in the library, focused on your Potions essay, the quill in your hand moving steadily across the parchment as you scribbled down notes. The library was quiet, a hushed atmosphere that contrasted sharply with the bustling corridors of Hogwarts. Shelves lined with dusty tomes stretched up towards the ceiling, and the faint scent of parchment and ink filled the air. You were deep in concentration, your brows furrowed as you tried to articulate your thoughts on the properties of the Draught of Living Death.

It was then that a Ravenclaw boy approached your table, his blue and bronze tie standing out against the muted tones of the library. He gave you a polite smile, his eyes warm as he gestured to the book you were working from.

“Need any help with that?” he asked, his voice soft so as not to disturb the quiet of the library. He seemed earnest, his gaze friendly as he looked at your notes.

Before you could respond, Draco appeared out of nowhere, sliding into the seat next to you with a fluid grace that spoke of familiarity. His presence was sudden, almost startling, and he fixed the Ravenclaw boy with a glare that could have frozen fire. His silver-grey eyes were cold, his expression one of thinly veiled irritation.

“She doesn’t need your help,” Draco said, his voice icy, each word dripping with disdain. The tone left no room for argument, his gaze locked onto the Ravenclaw with a hardness that made it clear he wasn’t to be challenged.

The Ravenclaw blinked, clearly taken aback by the sudden intrusion. His eyes flicked to you for a moment, as if gauging whether you needed rescuing, but when he saw the look on Draco’s face, he seemed to decide against pushing his luck. He cleared his throat, offering a tight smile before quickly making his exit, clearly not wanting to deal with an irritated Malfoy.

You sighed, watching as the Ravenclaw retreated, disappearing behind a row of shelves. You turned your gaze back to Draco, giving him a look that was equal parts exasperation and amusement. “Really?” you asked, your voice carrying a hint of incredulity.

Draco just shrugged, leaning back in his chair, his posture one of nonchalance. A smirk played on his lips, his eyes glinting with something almost playful. “What? I’m just protecting what’s mine,” he said, his tone casual, but there was an edge of seriousness beneath it, a possessiveness that was unmistakable.

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, shaking your head, though you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. There was something oddly endearing about his jealousy, the way he always seemed to be on high alert whenever someone else showed even a passing interest in you.

Draco’s smirk softened, his eyes losing some of their sharpness as he looked at you. He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper, his breath warm against your ear. “And yet, you love me anyway,” he murmured, the words laced with both confidence and a hint of vulnerability.

His gaze locked onto yours, his eyes searching your face, watching for your reaction. “You do love me, right?” he asked, his voice low, almost a growl, the possessiveness returning in full force. “Because I won’t tolerate anything else.”

There was a challenge in his gaze, as if your love was something he needed to claim again and again, as if he needed constant reassurance that you were his and his alone. His eyes bored into yours, daring you to deny it, to argue with him.

You smiled, reaching out to take his hand, your fingers lacing through his. “Of course I love you, Draco,” you said softly, your voice sincere. You could see the tension ease in his shoulders, the hardness in his eyes softening as he let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding.

“Good,” he whispered, his smirk returning, though it was gentler now, almost affectionate. He brought your hand up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles, his eyes never leaving yours. “Because you’re mine, and I’m not letting anyone forget it.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile remained, your heart swelling at the intensity in his words. “You’re ridiculous,” you said, but there was no heat in your voice, only affection.

Draco grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Maybe. But you wouldn’t have me any other way.”

And as he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a tender kiss, you knew he was right. His possessiveness, his jealousy—it was all part of who he was, and despite everything, you wouldn’t change a thing about him.

Draco’s eyes followed you as you walked into the Great Hall, the high vaulted ceiling shimmering with an enchanted sky that reflected the bright morning outside. You wore a smile on your face as you chatted with a group of Hufflepuff friends, your laughter carrying across the large room like a gentle melody. His gaze narrowed when he noticed the way one of the boys nudged you playfully, your laugh in response making something deep in Draco’s chest twist unpleasantly.

He sat at the Slytherin table, his eyes tracking your every movement. The tightness in his chest only seemed to grow as he watched, that familiar jealousy bubbling just beneath the surface, and he clenched his jaw to keep his composure. To everyone else, Draco looked perfectly poised, the same aloof and unaffected pureblood they were used to, but on the inside, he was a storm.

Finally, you made your way over, your eyes meeting his across the hall, and you sent him a warm smile, oblivious to the turmoil stirring within him. You slid onto the bench beside him, your shoulder brushing his, and Draco wasted no time. His arm went around your waist, and his other hand slipped under the table, his palm resting possessively on your thigh.

You shot him a curious look, your eyes flicking to the hand on your leg. “Everything alright?” you asked, though the amused quirk of your lips suggested that you already knew the answer.

Draco leaned closer, his expression seemingly casual to anyone watching, but his grip on your thigh tightened slightly, his fingers pressing into you as if to emphasise his words. “Do you always have to be so friendly with everyone?” he muttered, his voice low enough for only you to hear. There was a bite to his words, his jealousy evident in the way his eyes remained hard, his gaze flicking towards the Hufflepuff boy who was still laughing with his friends at their table.

You looked at him, the corner of your mouth twitching upwards. “It’s called being nice, Draco. You should try it sometime,” you said, your tone teasing.

He rolled his eyes, a sigh escaping him as if he found the very idea exasperating. His fingers on your thigh tightened fractionally, his silver eyes locking onto yours. “I’m nice to you. That’s enough,” he said, his lips curling into a smirk that held just a hint of challenge.

You chuckled, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, the touch gentle and affectionate. “I suppose it is,” you murmured, brushing your nose lightly against his temple before pulling back. You could see the way his posture relaxed, just a bit, his possessive hold on your thigh not quite as rigid.

Draco leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear, his voice dropping to a whisper that sent a shiver down your spine. “You’re mine, and I don’t want anyone else getting the wrong idea,” he said, the words possessive and dark, the edge in his tone making it clear just how much he meant it. His fingers tightened again, a slow squeeze that spoke volumes of his emotions—jealousy, protectiveness, and that constant need to make sure everyone knew exactly where you stood.

You turned your head, your lips brushing against the corner of his jaw as you spoke. “I think they already know,” you whispered, your voice soft, meant to soothe. There was a tenderness in your eyes as you looked at him, understanding the depth of his feelings without him needing to say another word.

Draco exhaled slowly, his gaze meeting yours, the storm in his eyes easing, giving way to something softer, something vulnerable. “They’d better,” he muttered, his voice losing some of its sharpness, though the intensity was still there, lingering beneath the surface.

You reached down, your hand resting atop his under the table, your fingers threading through his in a comforting gesture. “I’m not going anywhere, Draco,” you said, your voice steady, your gaze unwavering. “You’re stuck with me.”

A small smile tugged at his lips, his fingers relaxing beneath yours. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your temple, his lips lingering for a moment longer than necessary. “Good,” he murmured, the word almost a sigh, as if the thought of you being his brought him the only real sense of peace he knew.

The Great Hall bustled around you, students laughing, talking, the clatter of cutlery and dishes filling the space. But in that moment, it all seemed distant, the rest of the world fading into the background as you sat there, wrapped up in Draco’s presence. You could feel the heat of his body next to yours, the steady pressure of his hand on your thigh, and you knew that, despite his possessiveness, despite his flaws, this was exactly where you wanted to be.

Draco’s eyes stayed on you, the intensity in his gaze unwavering, and he leaned down again, his lips brushing against your ear. “If they don’t get the message, I’ll make sure they do,” he said, his voice low, almost threatening, but there was a hint of insecurity there too—a fear that you might slip away, that someone else might catch your eye.

You pulled back slightly, your eyes meeting his, and you smiled, your fingers squeezing his gently. “You don’t need to do that. I’m yours, Draco. No one else’s,” you said, your voice full of affection, your gaze holding his.

For a moment, his expression softened completely, the tension easing from his body. He nodded, his forehead pressing against yours briefly. “Alright,” he whispered, the word carrying a weight of emotion, a mixture of possessiveness and love that made your heart swell.

Slowly, he pulled back, a smirk returning to his lips, though it was softer now, almost playful. “Just remember that,” he said, his tone lightening, the usual arrogance creeping back in, though you could see the genuine affection in his eyes.

You laughed, rolling your eyes at him, but there was nothing but warmth in your gaze. “I will,” you promised, leaning in to kiss him, your lips brushing against his in a soft, lingering kiss.

The Great Hall continued its bustle around you, but in that moment, it was just you and Draco, wrapped up in each other, the rest of the world fading away. And as you pulled back, Draco’s eyes following your every movement, you knew that despite everything, despite his possessiveness and the occasional bouts of jealousy, there was nowhere else you’d rather be.

You were walking down the corridor, the ancient stone walls lined with flickering torches, casting long shadows that danced across the floor. You were deep in conversation with Theo Nott, the two of you laughing softly about a joke he had just made. The atmosphere was relaxed, and you were enjoying the ease of Theo's company—he was always good for a light-hearted chat, his humour dry and his demeanour calm.

Draco caught sight of the two of you from the other end of the corridor. His eyes narrowed, a dark glint flashing in the grey depths as he watched Theo lean slightly closer to you, his lips curved in a smile that made something twist uncomfortably in Draco’s chest. He strode forward, his footsteps echoing off the stone floor, his eyes fixed solely on you. Without sparing Theo so much as a glance, Draco slipped his hand into yours, his grip firm and possessive.

“Draco,” you greeted, a hint of surprise colouring your voice as you looked up at him. “We were just—”

“Leaving,” Draco cut you off, his voice cold as he shot Theo a pointed look, his gaze hard and unyielding.

Theo just chuckled, clearly used to Draco's possessive antics. He gave you a knowing look, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll see you later,” he said, his tone light, before turning and walking away, his laughter echoing softly down the corridor.

You turned back to Draco, raising an eyebrow, your lips pressing together in a thin line that barely concealed your amusement. “Really?” you asked, your voice laced with exasperation. “You’re going to scare off all my friends.”

Draco just smirked, his expression entirely unapologetic as he pulled you closer, his arm sliding around your waist. “Good,” he murmured, his tone smug. “Less competition.”

You huffed, shaking your head, but you couldn’t deny the way your heart raced when he pulled you against him, his body warm and solid next to yours. There was something about the way he held you, the way he seemed to need you so completely, that sent a thrill through you—a mix of frustration and undeniable affection. His lips brushed against your forehead, the contact gentle, almost tender, and you felt your irritation melt away, replaced by a warmth that spread through your chest.

“I don’t want to share you. Ever,” Draco whispered, his voice low, the words almost a growl. His eyes darkened, the silver depths stormy as they met yours, and he leaned in, his lips hovering just above yours, so close you could feel his breath against your skin.

You swallowed, your heart pounding in your chest, your fingers curling into the fabric of his robes. “Draco...” you began, but your voice trailed off, the intensity in his gaze stealing the words from your lips.

“And I mean it,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper, the dangerous edge in his tone unmistakable. “I don’t care who it is, I won’t let anyone take you away from me.”

There was a promise in his words, a dark, unyielding determination that made your breath hitch. His eyes searched yours, looking for any sign of doubt, any hint that you might not feel the same. But all he found was the steady affection in your gaze, the way your eyes softened as you looked at him, and slowly, the tension in his shoulders eased.

You reached up, your hand cupping his cheek, your thumb brushing lightly over his skin. “No one’s going to take me away from you, Draco,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the rapid beat of your heart. “You don’t need to worry about that.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, his eyes searching yours, and then, finally, he nodded, his forehead resting against yours. His breath was shaky as he exhaled, the storm in his eyes slowly calming. “I just... I can’t lose you,” he murmured, his voice so soft you almost didn’t hear it.

Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his words, the fear that he tried so hard to hide. You leaned in, pressing your lips to his in a gentle kiss, your fingers tangling in his hair as you tried to convey everything you felt for him—all the love, all the reassurance. “You won’t,” you whispered against his lips. “I promise.”

Draco’s arms tightened around you, pulling you even closer, and he deepened the kiss, his lips moving against yours with a desperate sort of need, as if he was trying to pour all of his emotions into that one moment. When he finally pulled back, his eyes were softer, the harsh edge gone, replaced by something warmer, something that made your heart swell.

“Alright,” he whispered, his lips curving into a small smile. “Just... stay close, yeah?”

You smiled, nodding as you rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. “Always,” you promised, your arms wrapping around him as you closed your eyes, content to stay like that, wrapped up in Draco’s embrace, the rest of the world fading away.

The corridor around you was empty now, the echoes of Theo’s laughter long gone, and it was just the two of you, standing there in the dim light of the flickering torches. And as Draco held you, his arms wrapped around you protectively, you knew that despite his flaws, despite his possessiveness, there was nowhere else you’d rather be. 

Draco was lounging on the couch in the Slytherin common room, his long legs stretched out, his fingers idly flipping through the pages of a book he wasn’t really reading. The emerald flames in the fireplace cast flickering shadows across his face, the soft glow highlighting the sharp angles of his features. The common room was filled with the usual evening buzz—laughter, conversation, the crackling of the fire. Pansy Parkinson sat nearby, her voice carrying as she shared some gossip, her laughter ringing out and drawing Draco’s half-hearted attention.

But his focus shifted entirely when you walked in, your laughter joining Pansy’s, light and genuine, as you responded to something she had said. His eyes immediately locked onto you, a flicker of something dark crossing his expression. You looked so at ease, so happy, and while Draco loved seeing you smile, he couldn’t help the possessive pang that tightened in his chest when he saw you laughing with someone else.

His gaze followed you as you crossed the room, weaving your way through the groups of Slytherins scattered around, until you reached him. Without hesitation, you plopped down next to him, your shoulder brushing against his, your presence immediately grounding him. He didn’t say a word at first, just slipped his arm around your waist and pulled you into his lap, his other hand resting on your thigh as if to stake his claim.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, his voice casual, though you could hear the edge to it, the subtle note of irritation that betrayed his jealousy.

You smiled, your eyes meeting his as you reached up to run your fingers through his hair, the soft strands slipping through your fingertips. “Nothing you need to worry about,” you said lightly, your tone teasing, trying to soothe the tension you could feel radiating from him.

Draco huffed, his chin coming to rest on your shoulder, his breath warm against your neck. He was silent for a moment, his eyes closing briefly as he inhaled your scent, letting it calm the unease bubbling beneath the surface. “I don’t like you laughing with other people,” he muttered, his voice barely audible, but the words were laced with a vulnerability that made your heart ache.

You rolled your eyes, though the affectionate smile on your lips softened the gesture. “You’re ridiculous,” you murmured, tilting your head to press a gentle kiss to his temple, your lips lingering for a moment.

Draco’s lips twitched into a small smile, his eyes opening to meet yours, the storm in them easing slightly. “Maybe,” he conceded, his tone lighter, almost playful. “But I’m your ridiculous.”

His fingers trailed along your waist, a feather-light touch that sent shivers down your spine. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice dropping to a whisper, the words meant only for you. “Just remember that, alright? You’re mine. I don’t share.”

There was an edge to his words, a possessiveness that made your heart skip a beat, and you could feel the intensity of his gaze, the way his eyes bored into yours, as if daring you to contradict him. His grip on your waist tightened, almost bruising, and he pulled you even closer, his body flush against yours.

You swallowed, your heart pounding, but there was no fear—only a thrill that coursed through you, a heady mix of affection and excitement. You knew how deeply Draco felt, how fiercely he loved, and though his possessiveness could be overwhelming, it was also a testament to how much you meant to him.

“You don’t need to worry about that,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his jaw as you spoke. “I’m not going anywhere, Draco.”

He let out a slow breath, his eyes softening as they searched yours, as if trying to gauge the sincerity in your words. Slowly, the tension in his body began to ease, his grip on your waist loosening just a fraction, enough to let you breathe, but still holding you close. He leaned in, his forehead pressing against yours, his eyes closing as he exhaled, the storm within him finally settling.

“I just... I can’t stand the thought of losing you,” he murmured, his voice so soft it was almost a sigh, the words raw and unguarded. It wasn’t often that Draco allowed himself to be vulnerable, to let you see the fear that lurked beneath his confident exterior, but in moments like this, you saw him—truly saw him.

Your heart swelled, and you cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing gently over his skin. “You won’t,” you promised, your voice steady, filled with all the love you felt for him. “I’m yours, Draco. Always.”

A small smile tugged at his lips, and he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was soft, tender, a stark contrast to the earlier possessiveness. His fingers tangled in your hair, his other arm wrapped securely around your waist, holding you close as if to prove to himself that you were really there, that you were his.

When he pulled back, his eyes were lighter, the darkness that had clouded them earlier gone, replaced by a warmth that made your heart flutter. “Alright,” he whispered, his forehead resting against yours once more. “Just... stay close, yeah?”

You smiled, nodding as you wrapped your arms around his neck, your fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Always,” you repeated, your voice a soft promise, one that you intended to keep.

The common room continued to buzz around you, the laughter and conversation of your fellow Slytherins filling the space, but it all seemed distant, the rest of the world fading into the background. In that moment, it was just you and Draco, wrapped up in each other, the rest of the world inconsequential.

Draco’s arms tightened around you, his eyes closing as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, a content sigh escaping him. And as you sat there, cradled in his embrace, you knew that despite his flaws, despite his jealousy and possessiveness, there was nowhere else you’d rather be. You loved him—every part of him, even the parts that were rough around the edges—and you knew that he loved you just as fiercely, just as completely.

The sun was warm on your face as you sat in the courtyard, your friends around you, their laughter and light-hearted conversation filling the air. It was one of those rare, perfect afternoons—sunshine filtering through the branches of the nearby trees, a gentle breeze stirring the leaves, and the sound of distant bird song adding to the tranquillity. You stretched your legs out, feeling the warmth of the stone beneath you, content in the easy company of your friends.

But the tranquillity didn’t last long. A shadow fell over your group, and you looked up to see Draco Malfoy striding towards you, his presence unmistakable, his posture radiating his usual arrogance. His silver eyes were fixed solely on you, a determined glint in their depths, as if he had a singular purpose in mind. He ignored everyone else, his gaze unwavering as it locked onto you.

“Come on, we’re leaving,” he said, his tone making it clear that there was no room for argument. His voice carried that authoritative note that left little to be questioned, a voice that often made people obey without hesitation.

Your friends exchanged amused looks, some of them raising their eyebrows in silent laughter, clearly used to Draco’s possessiveness. You let out a sigh, rolling your eyes but standing up nonetheless. “You know, you could at least pretend to be polite,” you said, raising an eyebrow at him, your tone lightly teasing as you brushed your robes off.

Draco smirked, his hand slipping into yours with a familiarity that spoke of both habit and need. He squeezed your hand slightly as he looked down at you, his expression entirely unapologetic. “Why?” he drawled, his tone dripping with arrogance. “They already know I’m better than them.”

You rolled your eyes again, though you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. There was something so quintessentially Draco about his behaviour, and despite your exasperation, you found it endearing. “You’re impossible,” you muttered, shaking your head.

“And yet, you’re still here,” he shot back, his voice laced with that same arrogance, but his eyes softened as he looked at you, something vulnerable flickering in their depths. He tugged you a little closer, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand as he pulled you away from your friends.

He leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice lowering to a whisper that only you could hear. “Because you know no one else could ever treat you the way I do. No one else is good enough for you.” There was a possessiveness to his words, an edge that made your heart skip a beat, the intensity of his emotions almost overwhelming.

His grip on your hand tightened as he led you away, and you could feel the possessiveness radiating off of him, the way his body seemed to curl protectively towards yours, as if shielding you from everyone else. It was as though, in his mind, the world was full of threats, and only he could keep you safe, only he was worthy enough to have you by his side.

You cast a glance over your shoulder, giving your friends a half-apologetic, half-amused smile as they waved, some of them rolling their eyes at Draco’s antics. They were used to it by now, the way Draco would swoop in and pull you away whenever he felt even the slightest bit threatened by someone else’s presence. It was part of who he was—possessive, demanding, but also fiercely devoted.

As you walked away from the courtyard, Draco’s grip on your hand never lessened. He held you close, his stride matching yours as if he needed to make sure you were right there beside him, where he believed you belonged. You could feel the tension in his body, the way his jaw was set, his eyes still stormy even as the courtyard faded from view.

“You really don’t need to be so dramatic, you know,” you said softly, glancing up at him, your tone gentle despite the teasing nature of your words. You could see the way his shoulders were still tense, the jealousy simmering just beneath the surface.

Draco’s gaze flicked down to meet yours, his eyes narrowing slightly. “I’m not being dramatic,” he insisted, his voice stubborn, though there was a hint of something more vulnerable underneath. He paused for a moment, his grip on your hand tightening just a fraction. “I just... I don’t

The sun shone brilliantly over the Black Lake, its rays shimmering on the surface of the water, creating a dazzling dance of light that seemed almost magical. You and Draco sat together by the edge of the lake, enjoying one of those rare moments of tranquillity that Hogwarts seldom allowed. The breeze was gentle, rustling the leaves of the nearby trees, and you could hear the faint call of birds in the distance. You leaned against Draco, his arm wrapped securely around your shoulders, and for a moment, it felt as though the rest of the world had disappeared.

It was peaceful. Just the two of you, with the warmth of the sun on your faces and the soft lapping of the water against the shore. You felt Draco’s steady breathing, his chest rising and falling in a calming rhythm that made you relax further into his embrace. His presence was comforting, a solid anchor in the midst of all the chaos that life at Hogwarts often brought.

“You know, you don’t have to get so jealous all the time,” you said, breaking the silence. Your voice was soft, meant to be gentle rather than accusatory, as you turned your head slightly to look up at him.

Draco’s jaw tensed for a moment, and he huffed, his gaze shifting to the shimmering surface of the lake. “I’m not jealous,” he replied, his tone defensive, though it lacked its usual bite. “I just don’t trust other people around you.” His eyes narrowed slightly, his expression hardening for a second before it softened again, his vulnerability showing through.

You smiled, your heart warming at his honesty. You turned in his arms, shifting so you could see his face fully, your fingers reaching up to brush a stray lock of platinum hair away from his forehead. “You’re impossible, you know that?” you said, your voice holding a teasing note, though the affection behind your words was clear.

Draco’s gaze finally met yours, and you watched as his expression softened, the tension in his features easing. The corners of his lips tugged upwards slightly, a faint smile breaking through. “Maybe,” he conceded, his voice quieter now, almost a murmur. “But you love me anyway.”

You leaned in, your eyes locking onto his, and you pressed a soft kiss to his lips. It was gentle, reassuring, a promise wrapped in a simple touch. When you pulled back, your eyes met his, and you smiled. “Yeah, I do,” you whispered, the sincerity in your voice leaving no room for doubt.

Draco’s smirk returned, a bit more pronounced this time, and he pulled you closer against him, his arm tightening around your shoulders. “Good,” he said, his voice a little rough, but there was a tenderness there too. “Because I’m not planning on letting you go.”

His fingers traced lazy patterns along your arm, the sensation sending shivers down your spine. He tightened his grip on you, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. “You belong to me,” he said, his voice low, a possessive edge to his words. “And I don’t care who knows it. I’ll fight anyone who thinks they can take you from me.”

His gaze bore into yours, the sincerity and desperation in his expression making your heart skip a beat. He leaned down, his forehead resting against yours, his eyes closing for a moment as he let out a slow breath. “You’re everything to me,” he continued, his voice softer now, raw with emotion, “and I won’t let anything—or anyone—come between us. Ever.”

There was an intensity in his voice, a raw honesty that made your heart swell with emotion. Draco wasn’t just possessive—he was desperate, and the way he held onto you made it clear that he would do whatever it took to keep you by his side. You could feel it in the way his fingers tightened against your arm, in the way his body seemed to curl protectively around yours, as if shielding you from any unseen threat.

You reached up, your fingers brushing against his cheek, and he leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering open to meet yours. “I know,” you whispered, your voice steady, full of affection. “And I’m not going anywhere, Draco. You don’t need to worry about that.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, just stared at you, his grey eyes searching your face as if trying to find any hint of doubt. When he found none, he let out a shaky breath, his lips curving into a small smile. “You promise?” he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper, the vulnerability in his words making your chest tighten.

You smiled, nodding as you pressed another kiss to his lips, lingering for a moment before pulling back. “I promise,” you said softly, your forehead resting against his. “Always.”

Draco’s arms tightened around you, pulling you even closer, and he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin. You could feel the tension slowly leaving his body, replaced by a sense of calm that seemed to wash over both of you. The sun continued to shine down, the gentle breeze rustling the leaves, and for that moment, everything felt perfect.

You closed your eyes, your fingers running through his hair as you held him, the two of you wrapped up in each other. The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you by the lake, lost in your own little bubble of peace and love. Despite everything—the jealousy, the possessiveness, the fear—you knew that Draco loved you fiercely, completely, and there was nowhere else you’d rather be than right there, in his arms, by the Black Lake, with the sun shining down and the promise of forever hanging in the air between you.