#Harry realizing he is love with Ginny is my weak spot | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

moseslikellamas · 2 months ago

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Ginny Weasley & the Year of Healing

Chapter 7

Pairing: is a mystery

Summary: the long awaited return to hogwarts

Warnings: depictions of anxiety, unreliable narrator

Word count : 5.8k

{sorry this is so outrageously long lmao)

Ginny woke early on the morning of the first of September. The sun had not even crested the horizon when she rose and exited her bed. Silently leaving her room she journeyed up to the roof, to sit and watch the sun rise. It was exceedingly cloudy and she was sure it would rain today. The wind ramped up the longer she sat outside but she was unbothered by the chill in the air. Ginny worked hard to keep her mind still and calm. She had plenty of time to worry about Hogwarts on the train and she didn’t want to waste her last few hours home anxious. Instead she tried to think of ways she could maximize her outdoor time while at Hogwarts. Astronomy and Herbology would offer her some excuse as to why she was outside the castle walls. The cloak Harry gave her was going to be invaluable even if it wasn’t foolproof.

While sitting there contemplating various excuses, the window opened. Ginny was shocked to see it was Harry instead of George. She had figured Harry would be sleeping in like Ron assuredly was.

“Hello Harry.” Ginny muttered, her voice still thick from sleep.

Harry sat beside her and zipped his jacket up. The sun was rising now, barely visible behind the thick cover of clouds.

“It’s odd to be going back.” Harry’s voice was soft and low but scratchy like he’d been crying all night. Ginny grabbed his hand and laced her fingers through his.

“Yeah it is. I don’t know how I fit into it anymore.” She admitted. A light mist began to pour around them. Harry squeezed her hand comfortingly.

“We only have one way to find out unfortunately. Hopefully whoever we are is good at quidditch or I think McGonagall may do away with us.”

Ginny smiled at his weak attempt to bring some humor into the moment.

“I dunno how I’m going to do it Harry. Head girl, quidditch captain, seven N.E.W.T.’s. It seems impossible.”

“You can always just shirk your responsibilities.” Harry shrugged. Ginny rolled her eyes at him.

“Just hex anyone at prefect meetings who disagrees with you.”

“Oh I’m sure McGonagall will really love me then.”

“Nah. I’ll vouch for you, who would disagree with the chosen one?”

Ginny laughed, agreeing. “That’s true, I forgot I can just hang off your coattails.”

Hand in hand half soaked Ginny and Harry made jokes and invented chaotic scenarios of the year to come. It made her feel young again, or maybe just more her age. She was so glad Harry had decided to attend this year, he could use a little immaturity and mischief.

“I have a near unlimited supply of stuff Fred and George gave me in my vault. We could really do something horrible.” Harry paused as if just realizing what he had said. But Ginny rushed to assuage whatever guilt had come to mind.

“Don’t. We should say his name and remember him. And I think the best way we could do that is utilizing those supplies. So tell me how many…”

They schemed on the roof until the rain began pouring down on them and the chances of them slipping off became much too high. They stepped into the hall soaking wet before Harry cast a drying spell on them and the floor. Ginny pulled Harry along, wanting to go to a better spot for planning.

“Where are we going?”

“Shhh! We’ll be there in a second.”

Ginny led him downstairs past the kitchen into the back of the house. Squinting in the low light she located what she was looking for. Opening a hidden door in the wall she motioned for Harry to follow her. They crawled through the small opening for a moment before entering into a rarely used and forgotten about storage space.

Stretching up to stand straight Harry gazed around the room. Which was covered in dust but had an old sofa the twins had somehow managed to get in here.

“How come I’ve never been here before?” Harry asked as they sat on the couch.

“Because Ron doesn’t know about it and you better not tell him either.”

Ginny smirked at Harry recalling the time she’d caught the twins sneaking in here. There were probably discarded joke shop rejects hiding around the room somewhere. It was how they’d kept Molly off their trail and in exchange for not ratting them out, Ginny got access to the room when they weren’t using it.

Ginny summoned some parchment and they got to work planning several pranks to rival Harry's own dad’s. Ginny had admired and looked up to Sirius in the short time she knew him. She wanted to cause some mischief that would make him proud. Harry and Ginny reluctantly decided to include George in their plans through owl. Ginny thought it would perk him up in some way but she knew it was just as likely to set him off in the opposite way.

“I’ll talk to him about it. You need to find a way to distract Hermione because you know she’s going to be onto us.”

“I say we plan one near exam time. Maybe a month before? Hermione will be studying for at least three months before, no way she’ll be focused on us.”

Ginny agreed. She also knew Hermione had her own pet project planned in the form of a slimy snake but she kept that to herself.

“I think we can bounce off of each other enough we can discredit her suspicions regardless.” Harry stated confidently. “Just remember if I say I was with you, I was doing prank stuff. Let’s just agree to corroborate each other's stories where ‘mione’s concerned. Deal?”

That sounded easy to her. “Deal. Now let's get out of here before we arouse any suspicion.”

After exiting the storage room, Harry and Ginny went their separate ways. Luckily her mother was just coming down the stairs. Harry was in the main room and Ginny busied herself with starting the eggs.

“Ginny? What are you doing up so early?”

“Morning mum. Just nerves I suppose.”

Her mother eyed her suspiciously before remarking how Harry must also be nervous. Ginny knew what her mother was insinuating but she ignored her.

“We all are. It’s an odd feeling, going back.”

That turned her mother straight toward pity town and Ginny couldn’t leave the kitchen fast enough. Her mother used to smother her angrily, bossing her around. But now she looked at Ginny like she was a lost little child. It made their interactions exhausting. She made her way back upstairs, pausing at George’s open door. Lightly knocking, she stepped inside.

George was sitting at his desk working on something. It made her heart swell a bit to see him busy.

“George? I was going to ask you -“

“To help you and Harry pull off a passable prank, I know.”

Ginny gaped at the back of his head, incredulous. She shut his door and walked over to him.

“Have you been spying on me Georgie? That’s very rude, you know.”

He shrugged. “You think there aren’t spells in the storage room to alert me if someone’s in there?”

“Ughhhh. Whatever, are you going to help us?”

George swiveled his chair around to face Ginny, holding something up for her to examine. “Of course, and I already have the first prank ready.”

Ginny grinned, grabbing the small contraption, which resembled an ice cube.

“We’re going to make history.” George began to explain his plan and Ginny’s grin grew broader as he explained. “The trickiest part is going to be on you and Harry avoiding suspicion. Miss the carriages, you need to sneak in under your cloaks for this to work.”

Ginny settled in to listen and when they ironed all the details out, she left to retrieve the purse Hermione had gifted her. This is where she stored all of the prank material. Then she left to go find Harry and update him. She caught a lucky break when Hermione pulled Ron aside. Leaving the two of them alone in the hall.

“George is in. Meet me on the train after the ride is over, I’ll update you there. Bring your cloak.” She whispered to him before shuffling away and loudly discussing the future quidditch season.

Hermione and Ron joined them shortly after, both looking frustrated and red in the face. Ignoring whatever was going on between them, Ron stalked off downstairs. Harry threw Ginny a look before following him. She turned to Hermione and raised her brow, silently inquiring.

“Ron’s an immature git.” She huffed, starting her descent. Ginny snorted.

“I could have told you that ‘mione. About anything in particular?”

Hermione turned bright red and clammed up. Ginny had a pretty good guess it might involve a certain snake.

Breakfast was a tirade, Molly was stressed about getting off in time. Even though they still had three hours before they had to leave, she was rushing them all through breakfast.

“You all need to double check. Yes Ron, you do! Now hurry up and be off! We have a schedule to keep.”

“Bloody schedule. We could apparate there!” Ron grumbled to himself.

“Ron, you can’t apparate within Hogwarts grounds.” Hermione rolled her eyes at him and pushed him off of his chair. Their bickering followed them up the stairs.

“Come on Harry. She’ll be after us next.”

It didn’t take Ginny long to double check that she’d packed everything. She made sure to grab her talking mirror and then donned the autumn cloak she’d gotten earlier in the summer. She opted to wear a pair of brown muggle leggings with it and a thin cream long sleeve under the cloak. The mirror had reluctantly agreed that muggle clothing was quite trendy and could even be classic. The interaction had made Ginny giddy at the thought of reading the book Hermione had gifted her on bewitching the mirror. If everything went well, this mirror could be passed down for generations. She loved the idea of starting her own traditions and creating family heirlooms. She didn’t want to miss out on any more life experiences. Even if she was struggling to find meaning now, she was determined to power through anyway. Her future self would thank her.

The last thing she did was attach her wand holster. It fit slung low over her left hip. It felt odd to wear it again, she’d taken it off after the war ended. Around the house she usually kept it in a pocket or sometimes shoved through her hair before she’d chopped it off.

Together, Ginny and Hermione levitated their trunks downstairs. Harry and Ron joined them moments later. They still had plenty of time before they left so Ginny decided to reveal a gift she’d planned with her mother. After Ginny had taken Teddy and Harry’s photo the other night at dinner, she’d begun scheming with her mum. Molly always wanted more photos and Ginny was beginning to see the value in having her own scrapbook. It was their last year at Hogwarts, she wanted them to be able to capture every moment.

“Everyone have a seat please.” Ginny called to a crowd of confused faces. She kept her own face neutral but she was starting to feel excited. Harry, Ron and Hermione sat looking expectantly at her. She looked to Molly who was hovering at the back of the room and nodded.

“Mum and I have a gift for you all.” As Ginny said this Molly levitated the stack of neatly wrapped gifts over to the trio. Ron looked suspicious, Harry looked slightly uncomfortable and Hermione appeared delighted.

“Well go on then.” She said when they continued to stare at the wrapped gifts. Hermione started opening first, Harry and Ron followed immediately after.

“Gin, is this?” Hermione asked, looking awed.

“Yes, it's a camera. I’ve already got mine packed. There’s an album too for each of you. Mum and I were talking the other night and thought it would be a good idea. It being our last time at Hogwarts and all.” Ginny shrugged, still trying to appear nonchalant.

“Ginny, this is brilliant. Really Mrs. Weasley, thank you.” Harry turned to thank Molly who was a light shade of pink.

“Oh it was nothing really. Harry, open yours up.” Molly encouraged turning the attention back on him.

Harry opened his album, which was a beautiful shade of red with his name embossed on the front in gold. The first page featured the picture Ginny had taken of him and Teddy. It was held in place with gold metal corners. Underneath in Ginny’s script read,

Harry and Teddy, dinner at the burrow. 27 August ‘99.

There were a few more photos as well that they’d included. One of Harry at the burrow for Christmas when he was younger. One of Harry, Ron and Hermione all passed out in Ron’s room. Another from the Christmas they’d spent with Sirius. Harry paused at this one, a picture of him and Sirius in front of the Black tapestry. He turned to address Molly.

“I didn’t know you took this.”

But she only shook her head and Harry turned to face Ginny, surprised.

She suddenly felt a bit abashed. “I spent a bit of time with Sirius that summer before you arrived. I got the sense he wished he had more moments with you. I wanted to make sure you got them.” She blushed but knew ultimately she’d been right to pry and capture the moment.

Ron and Hermione’s albums' first page were also filled like Harry’s. Some of them were older photos that Molly had lying around and some were more recent ones that Ginny had snuck when no one was looking. Ginny’s album had less photos but her mum had captured one of her and George in the late summer sun. It was her favorite photo. Ginny was secretly making one for George but it was painful for her and impossible for her mum. So it was slow going.

“Thanks Gin.”

Ginny could tell Harry was struggling in the moment to express his gratitude without falling apart. Luckily Ron and Hermione chimed in to save him.

“Mum, this is amazing.” Ron said, standing to hug Molly.

“Oi what about me?” Ginny asked.

Ron turned to glare at her and she laughed out loud. She’d included a picture of their great aunt Muriel in his, captioned: Ronald’s first kiss.

Molly had forced them all to stand in front of the fireplace for a picture, nearly weeping all the while. “Oh look at all of you! So grown and mature now.”

Ginny had suppressed an eye roll by sheer force, not wanting it immortalized in photography. Molly promised to send them all a copy and with that it was nearly time to depart.

“The aurors will be here shortly. Now let’s remember to keep a quick pace.”

Ginny bristled at her mother’s proclamation though she was well aware they’d be receiving a ministry escort. Harry caught Ginny’s eye and she tried to ignore his probing gaze. Hermione’s question drew his attention away.

“Do we know which aurors?” There was no time for an answer as a light knock on the door resounded. Ginny moved to let them in and was relieved to see her sparring partners, Johnson and Lopez. Striding in Johnson wasted no time.

“Let’s go. Molly, you first.”

The Aurors took turns apparating them discreetly into King’s cross before leading them through the platform without issue. They departed once more to secure everyone’s trunks before disapparating, presumably back to the ministry.

Ginny looked around the platform already feeling overwhelmed with the amount of people walking around. The lights seemed too bright for her eyes and she was struggling to orient herself. She hadn’t been around this many people in months. The station felt cramped and she felt stuck in her own skin. Her face prickled uncomfortably.

“Ginny, let's find a compartment.” Harry's voice was muffled in her ears. She blindly followed him as he lifted their trunks onto the train, she didn’t even say goodbye to her mother. She grabbed the back of Harry’s shirt as he wound through the train. He reached back to grab her hand and squeezed it. She took a couple of deep breaths and before long they were in an empty compartment. Ginny sat still feeling dazed as Harry pulled the blinds closed around them, leaving the one to the outside world open.

Ginny rested her head in her hands and focused on taking deep slow breaths. Gradually the world stopped spinning and when she looked up she found a concerned Harry looking back at her.

“How often does that happen?” He asked quietly.

Ginny shrugged, laying back against the seat, already exhausted. “Often enough.”

Harry said nothing, sitting thoughtfully. Ginny knew he was trying to figure out a way to worm himself into her problems without incurring her wrath or indifference. Good luck with that. She thought ruefully. Harry opened the compartment door to look for Ron and Hermione. While Ginny pulled her cloak tightly around her and hoped the train ride would pass quickly. She knew she had to go to the prefect compartment at some point and she was already dreading it. The only shining light was the promise that Luna would be there. It was still baffling to her as to why McGongall had picked her. Ginny’s behavior didn’t exactly scream rule abiding. It was something she hoped to discuss with the headmistress soon.

Hermione and Ron arrived just before the train set off. Neville had already joined them and was telling them about his summer.

“Gran was so proud of my rebuilding efforts that she gave me this.”

Neville pulled out a strange lantern that nudged at Ginny’s memory.

“Neville, is that a guiding light?” The name came to her at last. When she’d toured the Magic Lantern, the shopkeeper had pointed one out to her.

“It is!” He agreed, overjoyed.

“Wow, Neville. That’s incredibly handy.” Hermione chimed in.

Ron sighed exasperated. “Is anyone going to explain what it is or are Harry and I just supposed to pretend we know?”

“A guiding light works by adjusting itself to whatever brightness the owner needs based on their surroundings.” Hermione intoned, sounding like a textbook.

“It’s going to be useful when I’m out foraging for roots. You wouldn’t believe how hard it is to find…” Neville went off into a plant exposé¨ that Ginny didn’t care to listen to. She stared out the window watching the rainy scenery pass by. She couldn’t wait to be in her dorm, alone in bed.

Before long it was time for Ginny to go to the prefect's compartment. She bidded her friends farewell, eyeing Harry inconspicuously. He gave her an almost imperceptible nod before she left. Ginny had made sure to wear her bag on the train. Her cloak and the material for the prank were safely inside.

Ginny found Luna as she made her way towards the prefects.

“Ginny, you have a dark cloud around you.”

Ginny was inclined to believe this was just regular Luna speak until she noticed the looks she was garnering. Then it dawned on her that it was her shadow spirit.

“I guess I’m in a stormy mood today Luna.”

They entered the prefects compartment together, which was already full of students talking amongst themselves. Ginny didn’t recognize many of them. Ernie MacMillian came up to them immediately.

“Ginny, I hear you're head girl. If you have the time I’ve already arranged a schedule for rounds-“

Theodore Nott snatched the list from MacMillian’s hands. “We’ll evaluate it and get back to you MacMillian.”

Ginny turned to stare at Nott passively, curious if he was actually interested in the schedule or if he just disliked the Hufflepuff. MacMillian glared at Nott but slinked off to sit down.

“Lovegood, Weasley.” Nott acknowledged them and Ginny felt out of sorts. This was all brand new territory for her and it was hard enough to sort her head out about herself. She didn’t have the brain capacity currently to analyze what kind of motives Nott might have. Luna was no help as she dreamily drifted away, leaving Ginny alone.

“Any idea what we’re supposed to do?” She asked genuinely clueless. Ginny hadn’t had any interest in the position and had largely spent her time at school proving she wasn’t worthy of it. She hadn’t thought to ask Hermione what usually went on in here and owling Percy would’ve been a whole other can of worms.

Not bothering to answer her, he addressed the room. Which admittedly miffed Ginny a bit.

“Alright you lot. We’re going to do introductions. We’ll go around the room, name and house to start. We’ve got all year to get to know each other.”

The room sat in awkward silence for a moment before Ginny pointed at a random kid and declared they started it. Ginny listened as they all listed their names and houses, the information lost on her as soon as she heard it. It really was a pointless exercise in her opinion.

“Are you mentally categorizing each name?” She inquired to Nott. He didn’t reply, just subtly knocked into her, throwing her off balance. She scowled at him, for the first time in maybe a year she felt irritated.

“Real mature.” She hissed before focusing back on the students. After her own turn Ginny announced the first meeting and quickly made to escape the room. Nott caught her arm outside of the compartment. Reflexively she turned, wand already in hand. Her wand pressed against his throat harshly and he dropped his hand instantly. Ginny pulled her arm back, stowing her wand and feeling mortified by her over reaction.

“What is it Nott?” She crossed her arms but made sure to wipe all of the irritation she felt off of her face. They had to work together all year, better not to get off on the wrong foot on day one. His face was apologetic for half a second before it was completely blank. In a bored voice he said, “Ginerva, McGonagall has arranged for me to tutor you in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Here.” He shoved a piece of parchment at her and stalked off. His tall frame somehow disappeared into the crowd of people. Ginny scowled at his use of her full name but examined the parchment anyway. It was a schedule. She groaned, running her fingers through her hair. She hadn’t even made it to Hogwarts yet and she was already considering banging her head against a stone wall repeatedly.

Ginny planned to corner Hermione as she walked back to their compartment. She knew she could convince ‘mione to gather all of her schedules into a masterlist and then maybe she had a shot at remembering them. But Ginny wasn’t positive she wouldn’t just blow the schedule off anyway like Harry suggested.

A compartment opened suddenly as Ginny passed by and a small hand attempted to pull on her cloak. Turning swiftly, she was greeted by a compartment of what appeared to be either second or third years. Not yet having their robes on, she was unsure of their house. Ginny stepped inside quietly and a bit unsure.

“Hello? Is there an issue you need help with?”

For a moment the five children just sat sullen looking insecure and mutinous at the same time. The one who’d pulled her aside spoke up first.

“We just wanted to thank you.” The girl blurted it out quickly and then blushed. She brushed her dark hair out of her face and started again.

“I’m Olivia, last year you helped me when I got sucked into the stone wall after the Carrow’s cursed it.”

Ginny stood there stunned. She could barely remember that night, she’d been out gathering supplies. Trying not to be caught and hoping she could do a little information grab while she was out. Before Harry showed up, Hogwarts had been a dark place. It wasn’t something she liked to linger on.

Another piped up. “Me too, it was in September before we’d figured out things were really that bad. I got detention and you were overseeing it, let us out early and didn’t hurt us.”

Ginny did remember that one, she’d suffered her own consequences for it. Death Eaters were horrible disciplinarians for school children as one can imagine. They continued to tell their own stories of times Ginny had directly or inadvertently sheltered them from harm. She’d taken a seat after the third confession. So much of that time had felt bitterly unfair to her, like she’d been dropped off in a warzone with no help and no understanding. Sure, they weren’t on the front lines but things had been more than unpleasant.

So it filled her with a sort of gentle awe to hear about herself through the lens of these younger students, who touted stories like she was a rapscallion in an epic. And not the scared lonely girl she’d felt like at the time. Jack, a third year Hufflepuff, told her there were even more of them who remembered her. And some who had stories of other elder D.A. members, it got Ginny’s brain turning on a number of ideas. But they were fast approaching the castle and she still needed to change. She hurried back to her compartment and found all of her friends ready inside. Ginny quickly changed before joining them.

“How was the meeting?” Hermione asked once Ginny was seated.

“It was awfully awkward. I should’ve asked you how it normally goes. Mostly MacMillion was all over me about the schedule.”

Hermione snorted at that.

“Then Nott snatches the schedule and starts the meeting with introductions.”

Ginny was ignoring Harry, who she knew was staring a hole in the side of her head. For a clueless boy wonder he was getting entirely too perceptive.

“And just how was Nott? Friendly as ever?” Ginny was convinced Harry said it just to get her to look at him. Instead she rolled her eyes.

“He was mildly annoying. Nothing new from a snake.”

“I think Theodore is quite nice actually.” Luna said, drawing everyone’s attention to her. Ginny hadn’t noticed she’d joined the group.

“Yes Luna but you also said that about the brandbucckley or whatever it was and it burned my eyebrows off.” Ron scoffed while rubbing his eyebrows.

“Honestly Ronald you probably handled it wrong.”

Ginny almost did a double take when Hermione came to Luna’s defense.

“Besides, we need to let go of petty rivalries and work toward inter house cooperation.”

That was Hermione speak for ‘I’m hiding my less than noble intentions behind my noble ones to avoid criticism’. Or, I have a thing for a snake and I don’t want you all to freak out. This year was certainly going to be interesting. Ginny saw an opportunity to get the ball rolling.

“Actually Hermione, that's a wonderful idea. I was just cornered by several younger years and it got me thinking about a mentoring program. We could pair younger students with an elder from a different house. Everyone wins.”

Ginny could see Hermione was already planning her pitch to McGonagall. Harry, it seemed, was also in the mood to stir things up.

“I think we should have a mandatory inter house party every three months, seperated in blocks. That way the younger kids aren’t with the older but they still get a chance to interact.”

That honestly sounded like Ginny’s personal nightmare and from the devious smirk on Harry’s face, that appeared to be his desired effect. She would have protested with a myriad of reasons why that was a horrible idea, but the rest of the compartment began to agree. Nevertheless she did try.

“No way McGonagall’s going to sanction parties. It would be uncouth.”

“If we arrange them with games and activities for them to connect versus the usual drinking, dancing and kissing, I think she will.” Harry retorted. The set of his shoulders said he was willing to make it his personal mission to get McGonagall to agree. Ginny was going to grill him as to why on their walk to the castle.

“Yes! It could be a low pressure way to introduce muggle culture too. I was owling with McGonagall all summer on ways we could begin to integrate more muggle activities.”

Ginny groaned in defeat as Hermione chimed in and Harry’s eyes sparkled with triumph.

The train was beginning the slow process of stopping and the rain was still steadily pouring. She was not looking forward to her very long and wet walk to the castle.

“I can’t wait to eat, I’m starved.” Ron said, grabbing his trunk from overhead.

“You’re always starved.” Hermione snipped back.

Their bickering continued as they all grabbed their trunks and began to move through the train. Harry was behind Ginny and he whispered to her, “Follow my lead.” Ginny pretended she hadn’t heard anything and continued through the train.

Once they were outside, Ginny was immediately soaked through. They all made the slippery trek to the carriages as Hagrid called out for the first years. As the rest of them climbed into a carriage, Harry pulled Ginny back.

“Harry come on, let’s go.” Hermione was already dry, having cast some sort of shield over the carriage.

“Ginny and I promised to sweep the train and help Hagrid with the first years. We’ll catch up with you later.”

If Hermione was suspicious, her want to get to the castle outweighed it. Harry and Ginny quickly hurried back to the train.

“What if we get caught?” Ginny asked once they’d climbed back inside. Not particularly wanting to get in trouble on day one, even if they were planning a prank.

Harry grinned, his dark hair splayed across his forehead. “We actually do have to sweep the train, I wasn’t lying on that front.”

They began walking through, checking the compartments.

“The ministry can’t spare anyone to come down here right now and well, we’re all that's left of the Order.”

Harry couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice as he said it.

“It’s a good thing we’re the best dueling team in town then. What if a spare trunk needs grabbing? Who better to haul and levitate it.”

In the end, they didn’t need to grab anything. The train was cleared and Harry sent a patronus to the castle to confirm it. Before exiting the train Harry cast a perpetual drying spell on them, it was a bit uncomfortable and not as sophisticated as what Hermione could do. But it kept them dry and they both donned their cloaks. In the rain and darkness, Ginny’s cloak worked rather well.

As they made their trek up to the castle Ginny explained George’s plan. “The cubes are virtually invisible before they enter a drink, so our best bet is to create a dramatic diversion. That way you and I can slip the cubes in everyone’s drinks. We’ll also have to take our seats and remove our cloak before the diversion dies down, so it really all will come down to timing.”

George had provided her with a clever way to recreate a disturbance that had occurred several years earlier. The same as when the charm in the great hall failed and rain came through the ceiling in her third year. It was surprisingly not that hard to undo the charm and George had figured it out.

“I imagine we’ll have to lie to Hermione as well.”

“Well that was always the deal.” She agreed. It would be suspicious timing for them but there was nothing to be done about it.

“What happens when everyone drinks it?”

Ginny smiled under her cloak, thinking of what George had told her.

“I think it’ll be better as a surprise. We’ll have to douse ourselves of course, to avoid suspicion.”

They were nearly at the castle now.

“Also, Potter. Are you trying to kill me? That party suggestion was a direct shot.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

So that’s how it was going to be. Deciding now wasn’t the best time to get into it, Ginny let it go. Entering the castle doors, they paused while Ginny did the spellwork to break the ceiling. They were so lucky dinner had begun and the door was open. Otherwise this could’ve been a disaster.

Ginny had handed Harry half of the supply outside and as the screams began they worked quickly. The rain was thick and heavy, everything they could have hoped for. Ginny covered her half of the room swiftly while nearly sprinting towards her table. She was almost thereâ€¦ Ginny ripped her cloak off as soon as she sat beside Dean, stuffing it under her Hogwarts robe. Then the rain stopped and McGonagall was calling the room to order.

Ginny resisted with every fiber of her being to look at Harry and see if he’d been unnoticed.

“Rough walk?”

Dean startled Ginny so hard she jumped. Turning to face him she smiled. “Yeah the rain was horrible. That's the last time I agree to help Harry.”

Dean shook his head and turned back to whatever conversation he’d been having before she materialized. Ginny made herself busy with eating, refraining from drinking until she was sure at least half of her table had finished their goblet. Then she tipped hers back and finally allowed herself to look at Harry. He was sitting between Ron and Neville, looking cool as a cucumber.

That’s when it started. Yells went up from the Hufflepuff table and Ginny resisted the urge to look. She finally understood the wicked giddiness that the twins must have felt. Then her own table began to morph.

The closest person to her was Padma who now bore the face of a small field mouse. Ginny snorted before covering her face. Beside her was Seamus who appeared to be a giraffe, horns and all. The hall exploded into chaos. Ginny could feel her own face tingling as it shifted into a penguin. McGonagall was a panda, Flitwick had the face of a dragon and Hagrid looked like a hippogriff. Which caused Ginny to laugh so hard she began to cry.

Glancing over at Harry she saw he was a pygmy puff which started another round of hysterical laughing. Ron was a shark, complete with a fin on his back and Hermione was a pixie. The mix of magical and non magical creatures made it that much funnier to Ginny. The chaos continued as everyone got a look at a different animal face around the room, there were no duplicates. It was so impressive, Ginny made a note to compliment George.

“Quiet! Quiet! I said, Quiet!!” McGonagall’s voice finally rose above the noise and silence fell over the room. Ginny would’ve shoved her hand in her mouth to stifle her giggles but she now possessed a beak and it was impossible. The thought sent another round of laughter through her and she wasn’t the only one struggling. After another five minutes of this McGonagall gave up and shooed them all off to bed.

#harry potter fanfic #harry potter after the war #harry potter eighth year #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #ginny weasley fanfiction #ginny weasley fanfic #ginny weasley #hogwarts fanfic #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #hogwarts fanfiction #hogwarts au #hermione granger #ron weasley #theodore nott #luna lovegood #neville longbottom

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startanewdream · 3 years ago

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Sometimes I write the most random things at night.

This is a Part 2 (3?) of that comfort Sirius Lives AU where Sirius would never shut up about Harry and Ginny getting together (or my point that Harry would be happier if anyone had lived).

Part 1 | Part 2 (no need to read them)

_______________

‘All things packed? Socks folded and all?’

Harry jumps, turning to Sirius with a fond smile; he has just closed his trunk. ‘You know, nobody ever asked me that.’

‘Remus told me to ask you. He’s adamant I should be a serious godfather.’

Harry grins. ‘He did not.’

‘He may have used the word responsible instead,’ Sirius agrees, grinning. 'People seem to avoid the word "serious" near me.'

Sirius crosses his arm, leaning against the door of Harry’s room (Harry has a room there that he decorated with Sirius’ help, with his personal belongings that no one judges him for), watching Harry with attention.

‘Excited for tomorrow?’

Harry shrugs. He loves Hogwarts but he won’t deny that for the first time he wasn’t counting the days to go back. Between Sirius’ company, the summer days at the Burrow and the first vacation he took since… since forever, he could add a few more days to that summer break.

‘You’ll enjoy the Sixth Year,’ Sirius says. ‘Lots of free time. It’s so relaxing after O.W.L.s.’ There is a smirk on Sirius’ face now. ‘Good dating opportunities too.’

Harry rolls his eyes, his face reddening.

‘What?’ Sirius asks, innocent. ‘I meant about your friends, Ron and Hermione. They were all over each other this summer, didn’t you see?’

‘They are always like that.’

‘Talking to each other all the time, finding every excuse to be together, laughing until late in the night—’

‘Fine, fine, I won’t be surprised.’

But Sirius hasn’t stopped. ‘—Teasing each other non-stop, flying together every sunset—’

‘That wasn’t them,’ Harry interrupts, frowning.

Sirius blinks. ‘No? Oh, right, I was thinking about you and Ginny, sorry.’ He doesn’t look remorseful, though.

Something warm spreads through Harry. His neck burns—maybe he’s got some allergy.

‘Come on, Ginny and I—we are nothing like Ron and Hermione.’

‘No, no, you bicker a lot less. More of a teasing banter. Well, to each couple their own foreplay—’

‘Foreplay? Couple? No, no.’

‘Yes, yes.’

‘I am not—we are not—Ron’s sister—she has a boyfriend!’

‘Well, people are allowed to make bad choices once in a while,’ Sirius notes, shrugging, evidently not considering Ginny’s relationship status a problem.

‘You… you are out of your mind, really. I don’t… I can’t fancy her!’

‘Why not?’

‘Because she… she is Ron’s sister.’

‘Well, Lily was Petunia’s sister, imagine if James considered that.’

‘Ugh, Sirius. It’s nothing to do—Ron would never accept it.’

‘Good thing it’s not Ron who you want to snog.’

‘Snog? I don’t… I can’t—’

‘Fine,’ Sirius sighs, though the smile is still on his face. It’s a victorious smile that does nothing to calm Harry. ‘Tell me you can’t see yourself snogging Ginny and I’ll drop it.’

‘I…’

He begins the phrase with the full intention of finishing it, but now that Sirius has mentioned it, his voice extremely reasonable, Harry can’t avoid the thought. It is easy, strangely easy, as if his unconsciousness has been harbouring these images for a while, almost a dream of a dream, and until then Harry didn’t realize they existed.

But now all he can see as clearly as if they happened is the scene of him and Ginny after one of their silly races, reaching the ground and dismounting the broom still laughing, still full with the adrenaline of the dive. Ginny’s hair is all windswept, escaping her ponytail, framing her red face; her freckles are highlighted after so much sun exposure and this time, in his mind, Harry doesn’t resist the urge to get closer to count them.

But when he is close, with that fragrance of her perfume—the one he is also sure he didn’t notice until now, though some part of him has always registered how good-smelling she is—, staring at Ginny’s warm brown eyes, the smile on her lips…

All he can think of is that he would like very much to kiss her, no matter that she has a boyfriend or that she is Ron’s sister.

There is only Ginny.

‘AHA!’ Sirius’ cry makes Harry jump, blinking, the image of Ginny in front of him suddenly evaporating. ‘You Potters have the same pining face. It’s so adorable!’

‘No, it’s not! What—what do I do now, Sirius?’

‘Only one thing to do! Make her realize she fancies you too!’

‘But… she has a boyfriend,’ Harry mumbles, and then his face is replaced by Dean’s in his mind, and it’s Dean who is close to Ginny. He closes his eyes. ‘I feel like… like there is a monster in my chest and—’

‘Monster in your chest? We gotta better up your metaphors, Harry. But don’t worry, we will get there.’

‘I… I shouldn’t get there, she is still Ron’s sister…’

‘Ron? Your best friend Ron? The one thing you would miss the most?’

‘Yeah—he will feel like I am betraying him—’

‘Harry, you are best friends. I would even say brothers, but that would get weird considering how you definitely don’t see Ginny as your sister… But the point is that he would be happy for you! His best friend and his sister? I would be.’

‘You don’t have a sister.’

‘Good point. I have no idea how it would be, but, hey, I supported your mother with your father, and all because I saw how amazing they were together! You would support Ron and Hermione, right?’

‘I guess… I mean, I want them to be happy. If snogging would lessen their fights...’

‘Snogging helps a lot to channelize energy into something else,’ Sirius promises him. ‘You’ll see.’

Harry doesn’t look convinced. ‘Ginny still has a boyfriend.’

‘Nonsense, I’ve seen how she looks at you. And Fred and George may have mentioned something about a crush?’

‘Oh, that was years ago. Hermione told me Ginny is… over me.’

‘Then let’s get her under you! No, wait, that came out wrong. What I mean is to show her that you belong together!’

‘How do I do that?’

‘Don’t worry, I will guide you. I am an amazing matchmaker. You should have seen me with your parents.’

‘Didn’t my father take at least two years to make my mother date him?’

‘Well, you are here, right? Or as we used to call you, the final proof that James Potter and Lily Evans had—’

‘Okay! Don’t say it!’

‘That they had a love for each other, Harry,’ Sirius finishes, shaking his head, the smirk on his face bigger than ever. ‘Gods, what did you think I would say?’

Harry is sure his face is redder than the Gryffindor banners decorating the room.

‘Fine, I will listen to you.’

‘Oh, perfect.’ Sirius walks to sit on Harry’s bed, his face shining with something that Harry suddenly associates with mischief. He looks years wounger. ‘Let me share with you a wisdom I once shared with your mother—’

‘My mother?’

‘Yeah, well, you are much more like in her situation than with your father. All things considered, you are the one who fancies someone who supposedly got over you.’

‘This happened to them?’

‘Oh, yeah, by our last year they were just friends. Lily was convinced that James had moved on, and James was convinced she couldn’t ever like him back. It was rather pathetic and they were both wrong, let me tell you.’

‘Then what?’

‘Oh, lie in, Harry, let me tell you this bedtime story: how your parents got together. Once upon a time…’

#Sirius Lives AU #Sirius supporting Hinny #Talk about self-indulgence okay #Sirius Black #Hinny #Hinny Fanfiction #Harry realizing he is love with Ginny is my weak spot

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loeyparker · 4 years ago

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hurt her to save her - d.m

pairing: draco x fem!reader

word count: 7k

warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of death and torture

plot: getting closer to Draco during sixth year has consequences. Draco realizes that when he’s forced to hurt you in order to keep you safe from Voldemort

a/n: my HP obsession is back so I’ve returned to writing fics but i might have went overboard with this one lmao . it wasn’t requested, but if someone wants part 2 i’m gonna do it <3

Draco Malfoy had a very good memory. Besides being cunning and arrogant, he was also incredibly smart – which is precisely why he was second best in most classes. Behind the cold, uncaring façade the youngest Malfoy put out into the world however, stood a boy who remembered things he probably should have forgotten.

Lately, Draco Malfoy couldn’t remember the last time he felt anything but fear. He attempted to mask the feeling either with anger, determination or indifference but the true, raw feeling of fear was behind it all, much like a dementor guarding all his other emotions. The past summer planted dread and terror deep into his mind and the ink on his skin felt like it was seeping through his skin, entering his veins and poisoning his heart.

By the time he arrived back at Hogwarts for his sixth year, he felt drained. With the weight of the world on his shoulders, the young boy attempted to pretend to be a normal student, despite the countless sleepless nights and stray tears that sometimes escaped through small cracks in the emotional wall he’d built around him over the years. The tears only saw the light of day in the darkness of the Room of Requirement, where he found himself surrounded by old artifacts and silence.

“Draco, Severus has been telling me you seem distracted.” The soft, yet scared tone of Draco’s mother rang throughout the empty, rotting room in the Shrieking Shack. Broken windows allowed for the wind to invade the abandoned building violently and loudly, and to dance around the three figures standing in the dark. It caused a shiver to run up Draco’s spine, but he couldn’t tell if the reaction came from the cold or from Narcissa and Severus’s stares aimed at him.

Draco felt so small under their gaze.

“That’s true, I have been.” Draco admitted, looking forward. He focused on a spider trapping a moth in its web. “With school.” The moth fought, attempted to flap its wings but the web was too sticky. “I have to keep up my grades. Them dropping suddenly would be suspicious.” Draco’s voice didn’t waver, despite his heart beating at a much more rapid pace than normally.

“Lie.” Severus Snape spoke simply. The professor was tasked with taking care of the Slytherin boy, but he wasn’t about to listen to his childish lies while the man knew what he had been seeing in the past months around Hogwarts.

Draco didn’t move.

Narcissa sighed and got closer to her son. She placed her palms on Draco’s pale cheeks and she felt them being hollower than she remembered. Draco still didn’t look at her. The spider was covering the dying moth in his web, fully suffocating the creature.

“My boy, the dead don’t need lovers.” Narcissa’s voice was quiet, regretful even. Her heart ached for the boy who was so quickly deprived of a childhood.

“You cannot forget about the assignment because of a girl.” Snape spoke up, his voice monotonous.

“I haven’t forgotten.” Draco spat back and took a step away from his mother, whose hands dropped. He didn’t feel the lack of her palms on his cheeks, as they left no warmth Draco could feel. “And there’s no girl.”

“Do not lie to us, boy. I have seen you with the Ravenclaw girl, I am not blind.” Snape saw the glances between Draco and you in the Great Hall, he saw the way Draco fixed his gaze on you during DADA. He also caught you walking into the Room of Requirement not long after Draco the previous night. On top of that, Minerva had mentioned how Draco’s recent assignments closely mirrored yours. You had a certain style noticeable in your homework answers, and that style began to be seen in Draco’s own homework which lead everyone to speculate the two students may be closer than everyone thinks.

Before Draco could deny, Narcissa spoke “Under other circumstances, I’d be delighted to hear about a girl in your life.” Her tone was soft, yet it held an edge and sternness to it. “But you have a mission, Draco. Do I need to remind you of the consequences to befall our family if you don’t succeed?”

“No.” Draco spat. He already knew the consequences – loud and clear. They had been drilled into his mind, heart and soul the entire summer. If he couldn’t kill Dumbledore, Voldemort would kill Draco’s entire family instead.

“The girl is another weakness. Another person to add to the death list, Draco.” His mother pleaded. “You know he will kill her if he finds out.”

“I know.”

Draco could feel all the warmth in his body melt away and even his bones felt cold and heavy.

“You can still save her.” Snape spoke. “Focus on you mission, hurt her. Make her believe you don’t love her.”

Draco glanced at the spider one last time, and the moth laid still in the webs of the predator. The wind made the web sway, but only slightly. It was too sturdy to be blown away by any forces.

“Hurt her to save her.” Narcissa’s voice echoed through Draco’s mind all the way back to the castle. The Room of Requirement didn’t appear that night, and so the boy went to bed instead. He entered an empty Slytherin common room and even though the fire was burning, Draco couldn’t feel its warmth. Not even as he knelt in front of the flames, attempting to warm his freezing hands. His movements were mechanic. As he laid in bed that night, he couldn’t remember how exactly he got back into the dorm from the Shack.

However, he remembered events that took place years ago perfectly.

He especially remembered the night of the Yule Ball, two years prior. He can pinpoint the exact moment he spotted you in the crowd of well-dressed students. It was, in his mind, the first time he really, truly saw you. He remembered the small -but noticeable skip of his heart that happened as soon as his eyes landed on your figure. You were smiling, but sitting at the wrong table – which confused him for a moment. You were sat at the Gryffindor table, right next to the Weasley twins who were making you laugh. A Ravenclaw boy whose name Draco didn’t know was behind you, resting his hands on your shoulders thus signaling that he was your date that night through possessive body language. You didn’t acknowledge his presence much, though.

Pansy, Draco’s date, made comments about your dress each time you stood up to dance. The long dark blue satin dress gently touched the ground with each step you took, the slit in its side slightly exposed your leg with each movement. There was a smile on your face the whole night.

Draco thought you looked so beautiful.

He thought you looked beautiful even when your glance danced towards Ron Weasley until the end of the ball.

Draco also remembered the night Pansy dragged you into Umbridge’s office a year later. She held your arms behind your back forcefully while you struggled to get out of her grasp. Your wand was in her possession and you looked angry. A great juxtaposition to how you looked on the night of the Yule Ball. He remembered thinking how much sense it made for you to be tangled in Harry Potter’s mess because that’s what Potter did. He had everyone on his side, all odds in his favor while Draco was being dealt bad cards at every turn.

You fought and tried to get away from Pansy. Your hair was messy, and your oversized blue sweater was getting untucked from your jeans with each forceful move you made. A frown painted your soft features, your eyes seemed darker than usual. Draco caught a glimpse of the scars on your wrist which he immediately knew came from Umbridge’s detention sessions, and he felt a flicker of rage rise into his stomach. The feeling directly contradicted the satisfaction he had been feeling at the sight of Potter getting his plans spoiled right in front of him.

“Parkinson, lay it off.” Draco found himself spitting when he realized the pressure on your wrist was painful. He spoke before he realized what he was doing, and so he found the confused gazes of Ginny and Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and you – all fixed on him. Pansy obeyed Draco with discomfort.

You looked at him quizzingly, not really understanding why he was suddenly…helping you? He met your gaze just for a second before a heavy glare returned in his eyes and he turned away, focusing entirely on Harry and Umbridge.

It was minutes later when he watched your figure getting smaller as you ran away from Umbridge’s office, escaping with your friends. Draco and his friends were left behind and unable to follow as they each struggled with curses thrown at them in the escape. You were all long gone by the time the group of Slytherins came to, and Draco remembered that he found himself wishing he had people running into the line of fire for him like Harry did – he wished you would’ve glanced back at him in your escape and then weeks later when he was told about the events of that night, he found himself hoping his father didn’t hurt you in the Ministry attack.

Those thoughts and memories didn’t stay with him for long that summer, though. Draco couldn’t say that you crossed his mind after he received the Mark.

Until that night.

It was late and he was in the Room of Requirement, still fiddling with the cabinet. It was the fourth consecutive night spent in there after finding the damn thing, and he wasn’t anywhere close to fixing it. Frustrated, he punched and kicked the wood so hard that his knuckles sent sharp waves of pain through his arm. It was because of the noise he was making, the kicks and grunts that he didn’t hear the Room’s doors open and close.

You had previously been in the Gryffindor common room, attending one of their parties. There weren’t lots of Ravenclaws there – hell, it was only you, Stiles, Padma, Anthony and Michael. And it was all going well. You were sat on a bean bag chair with Stiles in-between your legs, surrounded by your Gryffindor friends: Ron, Harry, Hermione, Neville and Ginny, with Dean and Seamus on their way to you all with butterbeers in hand. The atmosphere was fun and light – a welcomed escape from the reality surrounding you, but you all decided to enjoy the moment and pretend the world outside the common room didn’t exist for the night. So you sat close to the fire and you didn’t know if the hot flames were warming you up or if it was the fact that Ron was focusing an unusual amount of attention on you.

You’ve had a crush on the Weasley boy since third year, and no matter what you did, you couldn’t stop your heart from beating faster each time he smiled at you.

You were having a great time.

“And if I become an Animagus to help Scott, then what?” Stiles spoke. Harry shook his head. You puffed. “What? We’d be the new generation of the Marauders; someone has to keep the legacy alive.” He continued, determined.

“Lupin would kill you, mate.” Ron laughed.

“You know animagi don’t pick their animal though, right?” You questioned. Stiles looked up at you and beamed.

“I know. But it’s like, vibe related so I think I’m safe. I’d absolutely be a dog, or a wolf.”

You glanced worryingly at Harry, but the boy simply burst out laughing and denied jokingly. Everyone else hearing the conversation laughed as well.

“Stiles, if it’s vibe related then you’d be a weasel.” You spoke, prompting laughs from everyone. Ron high fived you for the joke and you smiled wider than you thought possible.

The good mood didn’t last long, though. Only moments later Lavender Brown joined the group and comfortably sat herself in Ron’s lap. You watched him give her a quick kiss and wrap his arms around her. “What are we talking about?” She asked and it was as if your ears got covered. The sound faded, your smile dropped, your shoulders slumped. Ron would never like you back, you had to accept that. It was pathetic how you longed for the boy for so long.

So, you excused yourself and left the common room entirely to take a walk. You didn’t expect to end up outside the Room of Requirement, and you didn’t even feel like going inside. But the hall was dark and cold and you began hearing footsteps and the flickering light of Filch’s lantern slowly began illuminating the stone walls and with a haste movement, you went into the Room before Filch could walk around the corner and catch you.

You found yourself in a Room much different from the training grounds you had known while being part of the D.A. Tall piles of clutter seemed to reach the ceiling and despite the room being extremely vast, it felt tiny and crowded because of all the objects tossed and piled everywhere in sight. You walked on a path formed through columns made out of old boxes and books, all piled amongst stacked chairs, empty owl cages and rusty potions equipment. Loud bangs followed by grunts caused you to stop in your tracks and draw out your wand. The room in itself seemed unpredictable, and so you already had about six defensive spells ready to go in your mind and on the tip of your tongue.

You caught a glimpse of platinum blond hair before anything else. It looked messy – very different from the way Draco usually wore it: slick and perfect. Now, it gave you the feeling that he’d been vigorously running his fingers through it, causing it to become tousled. He was only in a white shirt – the robe, vest and tie laid disregarded on a near-by couch.

Lowering your wand, you gently knocked on a table to get his attention.

He turned around in a panic. His hand reached for his wand but stopped midair when he saw you. “What are you doing here?” Draco spat with no hesitation. His heart skipped a beat again, like it did on the night of the Yule Ball.

“I could ask you the same thing.” You responded, glancing at the cabinet in front of him. At the time, you didn’t think anything of it.

“None of your business.”

“I don’t care anyway.” You glared. “This room appeared to me like it did for you and since I think I need it, I’m not leaving.” With your arms crossed, you leaned against a random tossed out piece of furniture.

“Isn’t there a Gryffindor party you should be at?” Draco’s gaze remained cold and the scowl on his face didn’t falter.

“You know about that?”

“Don’t sound so surprised, I know everything that goes on around here.” He broke eye contact by focusing on folding up his sleeves. When his hand began working on his left forearm, he stopped abruptly, remembering. He went stiff at the realization, which you noticed. Before you could speak however, he looked back at you with a smirk, “Was Lavender Brown there so you ran away?” It was as if he didn’t look struck by lightning just two seconds before.

However, his words made you forget his strange behavior. “The hell? I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh, come on, (Y/L/N). Everyone knows you have the hots for Weasley. Least you can do is own up to it.” He teased with a mixture of annoyance and amusement present on his face.

“Piss off, Malfoy.” Walking up to the old couch Draco’s uniform laid on top of, you sat down and watched as the dust flew out of its cushion. Draco groaned. “I’m just gonna nap here until I’m sure Filch left and isn’t near the Ravenclaw tower.”

Draco mumbled some things you didn’t bother to understand, and then silence befell both of you. He didn’t really bother to fight you to leave even though, in retrospect, he should have had. Maybe if you didn’t stay with him that night, he wouldn’t be meeting you in the Room months later with tears burning his eyes. But, to be fair, he couldn’t have known that night. That night, he just rolled his eyes at you breaking the silence ten minutes later, when he thought you were asleep.

“What are you even doing there?”

“I told you, none of your business.” He spat.

“Is that the vanishing cabinet Peeves broke a few years ago?”

Draco turned around. It was his turn to be surprised by your knowledge. “How do you know about that?” He couldn’t help but let his eyes roam over your figure as you sat cross-legged on the old couch he napped on countless times before. You wore casual clothes – which he always thought looked great on you, and your hair laid straight over your shoulders. The few candles he had lit around softly luminated your face with warm tones.

You smiled proudly at his question.

“Fred and George shoved Montague in it last year” you laughed “it was quite funny.”

Draco remembered the incident. He was, after all, the one who found Montague stuck in a bathroom after the encounter with the twins.

“You’re trying to fix it, aren’t you?” Draco watched you jump up from the couch and walk next to him to examine the cabinet. He suddenly felt on edge, exposed. The Ravenclaw in you was jumping to solve a problem, while the Slytherin in him was about to explode. “Have you tried a mending charm?”

“Of course, I tried a mending charm.” Draco answered with annoyance in his voice. You rolled your eyes. “It doesn’t work.”

“Well, then- “

“I don’t need nor want your help, (Y/L/N).” He glared down at you. “I can handle it myself.”

“Asshole.” You mumbled before taking a few steps back from Draco. He didn’t turn to you. Instead, he focused on his task even though his mind wasn’t on it anymore. He focused on your footsteps as you began to walk away without another word and before he could overthink, he spoke up softly. “But you can stay, if you want.”

You didn’t stop walking as you answered him. “I don’t.”

Draco then heard you utter “Lumos”, heard your footsteps getting quitter and quieter, then the heavy doors being pulled open. After they closed, he found himself surrounded by silence once again. Not dwelling on it, he pushed the thought of you away and resumed his work. Nothing was more important than his assignment.

Things slowly started to shift after that night.

The next day in Transfiguration as he was zoning out, a paper butterfly landed on his desk. He glanced around the room but saw nobody giving any sign of sending him the note. However, after he opened it and read its contents, his eyes immediately found you. On the paper was a list of incantations that would be useful in repairing things, and he knew you had sent it even though you looked focused on the textbook in front of you. It looked as if you were purposefully trying to ignore him, and Draco allowed the ghost of a smirk to form at the corners of his lips.

Two nights later, Draco walked into the Room of Requirement and you were already there. A few more candles than usual were lit as you sat on the (now clean looking) couch, reading a heavy, dense book. “Have they worked?” you asked without looking up from your book.

Draco sighed, loosening his tie. “No.”

And as time passed, you and Draco began spending more and more time together. Initially, you tried to help him fix the cabinet. It gave you a distraction from Ron and Lavender. But it was also obvious that fixing the old thing was important to him – he seemed desperate and for some reason, you felt like helping. And so, you found yourself sitting close to Draco on that old, tossed out couch with different heavy books resting in your lap every night, both searching for spells that could work. Each few day the space between you decreased until you reached a point where your knees touched and your shoulder pressed into his bicep. Sometimes you could even feel his minty breath on your face – just for a second. But the feeling began to linger even as you walked the stairs up to the Ravenclaw tower late at night.

You also found yourself thinking less and less about Ron.

Then, about a month after the Gryffindor party, the Katie Bell incident took place.

Harry began suspecting Draco of the attack and accused him of being a Death Eater. You didn’t go to the Room of Requirement for a few days after that because honestly, you were scared. You knew, deep in your heart that what Harry was saying made sense and because of that you started to believe that Draco’s cabinet wasn’t just some fun project. You lit on fire all the parchment you had written mending charms on, in a haste and with shaky hands.

You didn’t want to see him after that.

But you found yourself days later sneaking out of the tower late at night, quietly making your way to the seventh floor.

Draco got heavily scolded by Snape for the necklace attempt. The Professor found his action completely foolish and didn’t hesitate to let Draco know that. The boy arrived at the Room feeling beaten, defeated. On top of that, he was met by the empty couch and the broken cabinet and he snapped. In a fit of rage, he broke one of the cabinet’s doors and threw it at the couch. The noise he caused rang through the entire room, momentarily covering the silence. He couldn’t bear the sight of his failure any longer and the thought that you were now possibly scared of him after rumors of him being a Death Eater spread around the school, thanks to Potter, angered him even more.

“Training for the next Triwizard Tournament, Malfoy?”

Your voice made him turn around quickly, surprised look on his face.

A small smile danced at your lips, and you took out your wand. Pointing it at the broken door, you cast out “Repairo,” and the door lifted from the couch, gently levitating towards the cabinet and fixing itself. In the end, it looked as if nothing had happened. “At least this works, otherwise you would’ve had to pick up some muggle skills.” You teased.

Draco let out a small laugh, before his face fell again and he sat down on the dusty floor. His back rested against some other piece of forgotten furniture and he brought his knees up, hugging them to his chest. His head fell back, and he closed his eyes.

You quietly sat next to him with a huff.

“Why are you here?” Draco asked quietly.

After a moment of silence, you answered with honesty “I don’t know.” And you didn’t. You couldn’t understand why, despite the pit in your stomach that took shape as soon as Harry accused Draco of being a Death Eater, you were alone with him in a secret room, late at night.

Opening his eyes, Draco made a quick decision. He placed his left hand on your right knee, squeezing. Your eyes met – he looked calm; you were confused. “Do you trust me?” Draco’s voice was just a whisper. Alas, through the deafening silence of the Room, you heard him loud and clear.

“I don’t know.” You answered again. And, mirroring his impulsive move, you placed a hand over his. He felt cold at the touch and as you got used to the slightly stinging feeling, he found comfort in your warmth. “All I know is that I’m here, for some reason. I felt like seeing you.” You admitted, your voice tender and quiet.

Draco didn’t speak for a while. You thought you embarrassed yourself but didn’t dare to move.

“There are things about me that you really wouldn’t like if you knew.” The boy finally spoke. His eyes were glued to the cabinet that was a few feet from you both, but his mind was miles away. “I’m not a good man.” He admitted with no waver in his tone, no hesitation.

And maybe it was the daily, month-long meetings you’ve had with him. Or maybe it was the flicker of decency you saw in him when he got Pansy to release her painful grip on you the previous year. But your mind dug up small events and information buried deep in your memory that made you frown at his words. You remembered Dobby. Harry told you he was the Malfoy’s house elf who tried to keep him safe during second year, and it all seemed strange to you. You knew that house elves, if owned, could not act on their own volition no matter how strong their beliefs and inclinations were. In your mind it seemed unlikely that Dobby left the Malfoys without their knowledge and so, for the longest time you had a hunch it was Draco who sent Dobby to warn Harry. Especially since Lucius was the one who snuck Tom Riddle’s diary into Hogwarts. You were also quite sure it was Draco who helped Harry figure out the monster from the Chamber of Secrets was a Basilisk.

But overall, you knew Draco didn’t grow up in a good environment. He’d been heavily manipulated his entire life and it was in that moment, as you sat next to him on dirty floors, hand on top of his, that you decided whatever he was doing, he was doing either because of blackmail or manipulation.

“You can’t let the bad things from the past define you,” You whispered as your fingers slowly occupied the empty spaces between Draco’s own fingers. He was quick to grip your hand into his. “I think you are good. You’ve just been dealt shit cards.”

Draco didn’t show any emotion as he processed your words. But that night as he lay in his bed all he could think about were your words. Nobody had told him he was a good person before, and he’d never felt supported before in his life. And he felt a wave of emotions hit him all at once. He felt envy because Potter had had you all this time and because of your friendship with him, Draco didn’t get close to you sooner. He felt jealousy because he remembered you were in the Room in the first place because you were heartbroken over Ron – again, someone he didn’t like had all the things Draco felt he should’ve had instead. He felt comfort knowing you weren’t scared of him despite Potter filling your mind with (true) accusations. He felt hopeless because he was a Death Eater now and you were one of the good guys. He also felt entitled, selfish and determined because for the first time in a while, he found himself wanting something – someone, that he wanted for himself: you.

Over the next few months, you both unintentionally grew closer. Draco remembered every smile, every laugh shared between the two of you in the candlelight, hidden deep inside the Room of Requirement. Most days, he worked alone on the cabinet while you studied and pretended he wasn’t doing something potentially harmful. You both found yourselves finding comfort in the other’s mere presence.

You began to think less about Ron and more about Draco and it made you feel strangely guilty, especially when Ron would throw his arm around you like he used to in the Great Hall and you’d catch Draco’s eyes and excuse yourself to move back to the Ravenclaw table.

On certain nights you attempted to get Draco to do homework with you. But with each passing day, he became more and more anxious and afraid. And with each passing day, it hurt and worried you more and more. On a few occasions you did his Transfiguration homework for him just to keep him out of detention.

He owled you a Merry Christmas note during winter break but told you not to write him back. He knew you wished him happy holidays as well.

You gave him a Christmas present when you got back to Hogwarts – a ring, as you’d noticed he liked wearing them. His face lit up at the gesture and it was the first time he embraced you. The action was impulsive but it felt right. One of his arms wrapped around your lower back, the other cradled your head gently. His face buried in your neck and he held you so tight you didn’t dare move. He held you to make sure you were real and wouldn’t slip away from his grasp.

A little over a month later, Draco was feeling the pressure of his tasks heavier than ever. He felt sick each time he looked at the cabinet and you were noticing that. You were also noticing his complete disinterest in school and his reoccurring absences. He’d spend days in the Room, not even coming down to eat. You snuck him meals each time you could but sometimes you’d find them untouched on the floor.

“Alright, Draco. What’s going on?” You confronted him one night.

“Nothing.” He mumbled. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Then help me understand,” you pleaded “Draco you’re not acting like yourself please, tell me what’s going on so I can help.” You never pleaded with a man before, never thought you would. Your ego felt too strong for this. And yet, there you were, standing behind a disheveled Draco Malfoy with an ache in your chest.

He ignored you.

You felt like throwing something at his head.

You watched as he opened the cabinet doors and took out a rotten apple. He held it in his hand for a second too long. It wasn’t unusual, you’ve watched him do this repeatedly over the past five months. You flinched when he threw the apple on the floor with vicious force. He then kicked the bottom of the cabined a bunch of times, yelling out in anger and frustration. His scream echoed through the Room. You pursed your lips.

“I can’t do this.” He finally spoke. “I can’t bloody do this and everyone’s going to die.” He started pacing around the small clearing amidst clutter. “My mum, my dad, me…you – we’re all going to die.” He kicked the plate of food you had brought him a few hours prior, spilling the contents over the floor.

You frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“He’s gonna kill you and mum in front of me, make me watch,” He was frantic “probably gonna torture you first so I die remembering your screams. Then,” he pinched his nose, wiped his mouth “then he’ll kill me. I’ll be last and everyone’s gonna be taking the piss out of me, the fucking kid who couldn’t fix a fucking,” he kicked the cabinet again “magic fucking cabinet!” he kicked and kicked until you could feel the pain he felt in his leg yourself.

You walked up to him and attempted to pull him away from the large wooden broken object, but he pushed you away forcefully. You stumbled back in shock. “How dare – “ You couldn’t finish your sentence, however. He hastily turned to face you, pulling up the sleeve of his left arm aggressively, exposing the Dark Mark.

No words came out of your mouth after that.

You couldn’t seem to peel your eyes off of the mark, and Draco watched you with a pained heart. Part of him expected you to run, another to pull out your wand and attack. He didn’t know which one was coming, he didn’t know which one he preferred. However, he didn’t expect you to walk up to him with slow, steady steps.

His eyes locked with yours as you took his arm into your own. It was as if the Room emptied and the only things in it were the two of you. Holding his arm to your chest, you got as close to him as possible. As he looked down at you, his heavy breath fanned your face. “It’s okay, Draco.” You whispered. “I understand.”

And you did. You understood his choice, understood the position he was forced into. And your heart ached for him.

That’s the night Draco remembered best. The way your figure was illuminated by the soft glow of yellow candles, the soft fabric of your sweater rubbing on his skin. The kindness in your eyes spreading warmth through his veins, the way your lips moved when you spoke his name. Most times he thought about conjuring a Patronus, Draco believed the memory of that night was what he needed to focus on in order to succeed.

With his hand on the back of your head, he quickly lowered himself to reach your height and caught your lips in a kiss. He felt you smiling into it and he found himself mirroring you, until you pulled away to giggle into his shoulder. He couldn’t do anything besides kissing the top of your head.

Days later you were both laying on the couch you had transformed into a cozy spot. You were focused on his Mark, tracing your fingers along the lines of it, gently. Draco knew he was supposed to feel pride in having the Mark – that’s what his family had told him, but he felt something close to shame each time he looked at it.

You rested your hand on top of it, covering it. “I’m sorry. But we’ll figure it out.”

“Together?”

“Together.”

A week later he was forced into the meeting with his mom and Snape at the Shrieking Shack. The following night he walked towards the Room of Requirement late, with heavy steps. It felt as if each movement he made on the way happened in slow-motion.

You were reading comfortably when he finally reached you. A smile formed on your lips upon seeing him, but it faded when you took in his appearance, his sour face, hardened figure, stone gaze. “What’s wrong?”

Draco didn’t speak, only pointed his wand towards you. You froze. “Draco?” His hand shook, his face wavered. You were confused.

“I have to do this, (Y/N). He’ll kill you otherwise.” Draco’s voice cracked.

“No, he won’t. You’re a skilled Occlumentist, right? He can’t get into your mind.” You immediately caught on.

He shook his head. “He’ll know, he’ll know. Snape knows, mum knows,” he sounded so scared that you attempted to get up to comfort him, but he threated so you sat back down “he’ll know.”

Tears formed and blurred your vision as your heart picked up speed.

“You know, I didn’t wanna think about you, I wanted to stay focused. I came here to do a task, that’s it. I came to be great, to do great things for the Dark Lord.” Draco began, “But then I saw you. I’ve wanted you since fourth year and then here you were, being good to me and…you woke up a weakness inside me. And I got selfish, I put my mission aside to get something for myself.”

Tears now ran down your face, and Draco mirrored you. You shook your head, silently pleading for him to reconsider.

“But I have a mission, (Y/N) and it’s so important. I can’t be distracted. And I can’t have you being associated with me – it’ll get you killed and I can’t – I can’t have it.”

The candles flickered and for a split second your mind went to a Divination class, where Trelawney explained candle magic. Their dancing light showed instability, chaotic energy while its tall flame indicated success brought about with complications. The air felt cold as you stared at Draco who hadn’t fully stepped into the candlelight. An abyss of darkness stood tall behind him, the sights of it deepening the pit in your stomach. Despite his shaky hands, dark circles underneath his saddened eyes and hollow cheeks, Draco looked put-together. His hair wasn’t messy like it was the first night you found him in the Room. It was back to its slick, flawless style. He wore his all-black suit, and his tie wasn’t loosened.

“I also can’t have you walk out of here knowing everything about me.” His voice hardened and for the first time while being with him, you felt fear.

“I won’t tell anyone.” Your voice was small. You sat up, your eyes beginning to look for a way out.

“I can’t risk it, you’re friends with Potter. You’re one of the good guys.”

“I won’t put you in danger, Draco.”

He grimaced at your words as if they’ve hit him with the force of a Cruciatus Curse. He tried not to let any more tears fall. You took his reaction as an opportunity to get closer to him. Maybe if you could take away his wand, touch him. Maybe then you could change his mind.

“I won’t endanger you either,” He whispered. “That’s why I have to do this.” At that, he lowered his wand and took two long strides towards you. Another one of his unpredictable actions that left you frozen in your spot. In a swift motion, he cupped your face between his calloused palms. “You know this is the right choice.”

“No,” you whispered and shook your head “no, it’s not. You can teach me Occlumency, I can help you,” your fearful eyes bore into his saddened ones, his heart ached at your words, at the fear he was capable of instilling in you. “We’re a good team, remember? I can help.” You kept pleading as your own hands rested on top of his. You felt the ring you’d given him still on his finger.

He simply shook his head with a small, almost unnoticeable smile on his face. “I’ve already corrupted you enough.” Draco admitted and you were taken aback; rendered speechless. “You’ve been covering for me with your friends, lying to Professors, basically doing my homework while I’m working on bringing the school down.”

Your heart dropped; hands started shaking. Draco felt it. He felt the weight of his words starting to crush you. Down in your mind you knew he was doing something bad with the cabinet, but you didn’t think it was so drastic.

Draco continued. Hurt her to save her, his mom’s words rang through his mind. “I’m using the Vanishing Cabinet to bring Death Eaters into Hogwarts,” his words made you remember the Death Eaters attack at the Quidditch World Cup, where you were almost trampled. You remembered the attack on London that sent one of your family members to the Hospital. You remembered how ruthless the Death Eaters were at the Ministry, when they were throwing deadly curses at a bunch of teenagers.

And there it was.

The look of betrayal, hurt and fear on your face that Draco never wanted to see. He tried to remember the night you saw his Mark, the night you accepted and comforted him. That’s what he wanted to remember, not this. “After I get them here, I’m going to kill Dumbledore.” He continued.

Chills erupted on your body and you recoiled from his touch.

“I knew you were planning something bad, but this, Draco?” You couldn’t speak louder than a whisper as you took small steps away from him. He knew this was coming; the disgust, the unacceptance. Was your speech about understanding him all bullshit? “You don’t have to- “

“Yes, I do. It’s my mission.”

“No, listen to me. You’re not this person, you’re not a Death Eater. I know you, Draco. You’re still a good person put in a terrible situation but it’s not all lost, we can-“ Despite your fear, you still found yourself comforting him, pleading with him. Your mind lead an inner battle between understanding the boy’s motives and wanting to let Harry know of everything that was happening.

You couldn’t let Dumbledore die, couldn’t let Death Eaters attack Hogwarts.

“I cursed Katie Bell. Almost killed her.” Draco cut you off.

“I know.” You deadpanned. He parted his lips and frowned in confusion. “I saw the necklace in your bag a week before it all happened. Then I saw it on McGonagall’s desk. It wasn’t hard to piece together the puzzle.” You explained.

Despite the warmth spreading through his heart at the thought of you not abandoning him even after knowing that all those months ago, at the thought that he’d finally found someone to be on his side for once in his life, someone who understood and maybe even actually loved him – despite it all, Draco’s eyes had never showed less emotion.

You wanted to cry but didn’t. Your ego won.

“You know I have to do this, (Y/N).” His voice didn’t waver anymore. The more reasons you gave him to love you, the more his decision solidified in his mind. “And you know I’m doing the right thing,” he wanted to hold you so bad, but he didn’t move; instead, you both stood feet away from each other. “Knowing all this puts you in danger. Coming here every night puts you in danger hell, even looking at me in the Great Hall puts you in danger. I can’t see you brought into the manor tied up, imprisoned and killed as a punishment for me. And you know I’m right. I’m not just some irrelevant follower, I’ve sat at a damn table with The Dark Lord countless times this summer. He’s been in my home; he knows me personally.”

You couldn’t look at him the more he spoke. So, your gaze was stuck on a candle, but your eyes remained unfocused.

“You’re smart.” Draco kept speaking, his tone now loud and confident. “This is the part where you tell me that even though you wanna change my mind, you know I’m doing the right thing,” he even joked. You wanted to cry but couldn’t speak. He was right. “Tell me you’re proud of me because I’m putting someone else’s wellbeing above my own for once” his voice became muffled, as if he spoke from underwater. It was silent for a moment as Draco watched you process his words, “You’ll be on the right side of history after this. You’ll go back to Weasley who’s a better choice for you than I could ever be – even though it kills me to say that.”

All you could do was shake your head in disbelief.

By the time you looked back up at him, he had a few tears running down his face and his wand pointed at you. And so you cried.

“We were a good team, weren’t we?” Draco spoke with one last saddened smile.

“Draco, please. I love –“ you began, but Draco couldn’t bear hear it.

You watched Draco wipe his tears with a swift motion, before a white light formed at the tip of his wand. His voice came out strong, unwavering, and determined. His hand stopped shaking.

“Obliviate,” Draco uttered before you could react.

#draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy fanfic #draco malfoy one shot #draco malfoy imagines #harry potter #harry potter imagine #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy x reader #ron weasley #ron weasley imagine #hhtsh

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chudleycanonficfest · 3 years ago

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Just the Girl

Day 21, Story #2 is by @adenei

Title: Just the Girl

Author: adenei

Pairing: Scorose (implied)

Prompt: Songfic

Rating: K

TW: alludes to events in CC, but nothing outright is stated!

A/N: This fic’s idea was originally inspired by the song “Just the Girl” by Click Five. It ended up taking a turn I wasn’t anticipating, but if anyone’s read Cursed Child, you’ll know that Scorpius is absolutely smitten with Rose, who tends to give him the cold shoulder and turns his nose down on him throughout the majority of the play.

‘Cause she’s bittersweet; she knocks me off of my feet

And I can’t help myself; I don’t want anyone else

She’s a mystery; she’s too much for me

But I keep comin’ back for more; she’s just the girl I’m lookin’ for

“Scorpius, relax.”

The older blonde pats his teenage son on the shoulder as they approach the lopsided house at the end of the country lane. Twenty years ago, Draco would have never entertained the thought of mingling with any of the three individuals that made up the Golden Trio, let alone the rest of the Weasleys. Yet here they were, at the invitation extended to them by Albus, Harry’s son and Scorpius’s best friend, to the Weasley’s mid-summer birthday celebration. His late father is probably rolling in his grave as Draco takes each step forward, cognizant of the dust that tinges his favorite pair of Grensons.

“I can’t, Dad! Do you know how big of a deal this is to get invited to the Burrow?”

“So you’ve told me every day since Albus owled two weeks ago.”

It’s not that Draco resents his son’s friendship with the middle Potter boy. If anything, he’s grateful that Scorpius has found such a close friend during his time at Hogwarts. Sure, the two of them caused enough trouble in five years that rivaled Harry’s penchant for saving the world, but that was all water under the bridge now. Draco is sure the invitation was only extended to them today because of his willingness to work with the Potters and Granger-Weasleys to avoid what was sure to be an end to life as they knew it if Delphi had succeeded in her maniacal plan.

As they round the subtle bend in the path, the Burrow’s expansive garden comes into view, and Draco can see a plethora of people swarming the grounds. A dozen teenagers are flying around a makeshift pitch in what looks like a pick-up Quidditch match while the adults sit along the magically expanded picnic table, sipping on beverages and watching the game unfurl.

“Thanks for letting me come,” Scorpius interrupts Draco’s observations as he bounces along beside his father.

“Scorpius, we’ve been over this. Just because Albus’s dad and I don’t always get along, I won’t let that get in the way of your friendship.”

His son beams up at him with a wide smile. “Are you gonna stay for dinner?”

Draco chuckles. “That will depend if I’m welcome. Though I’ll probably just exchange pleasantries and be on my way after I figure out what time you’ll be home.”

“Great!”

As they approach the house, it doesn’t take long for Albus to spot the blonde-haired pair. He’s sitting on the sidelines, which is unsurprising to Draco, considering neither boy inherited any interest or skill in quidditch. Albus scrambles to his feet and begins running toward Scorpius to meet them halfway. Draco is about to make a comment about how excited Scorp’s best friend is to see him but pauses when he notices his son’s gaze peering around the pitch instead.

Well, that’s odd.

“Scorp! Scorp! Over here!” Albus calls, finally gaining Scorpius’s attention.

“Hey, Al!” Scorpius’s tone is bright and excitable as Albus slows in front of them.

“I didn’t know you were coming!” He’s out of breath from the run, but that’s not what interests Draco.

Why wouldn’t Albus know Scorpius was coming? Did he forget to send a response?

Scorpius did have a knack for forgetfulness, so it wouldn’t be surprising to Draco. He watches his son with renewed interest to see how he responds.

“Oh! Uh…” Scorpius has also never been good at lying.

Draco can read him like an open book, just like Astoria. He follows Scorpius’s gaze, which flits back to the pitch, and his face transforms into a goofy grin as an olive-skinned girl with flaming red curls flashes a wicked grin in their direction.

“Oh. Oh!” Albus responds quickly as he looks back toward his family. “Yeah, maybe Wiggy lost your letter. He’s been doing that more and more lately. Dad says he’s getting old…” Albus rambles. “C’mon, let’s go find Rose! I’m sure she’ll want to, er, show you around the grounds with me.”

“Right, uh, thanks, Dad! I promise I won’t be home late!”

“Yeah, Dad’s over there with Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione if you want to figure out a time!” Albus mentions over his shoulder.

Draco has every intention of walking over to his former classmates, but he can’t seem to get his feet to move as he watches the boys run off. His suspicions are confirmed when he watches Rose dismount from her broom and run to meet them. The awkwardness that ensues between the teenage Granger-Weasley and his son matches that of young adolescent love, and terror floods Draco’s veins.

Of all the girls at Hogwarts…

Of course, Draco shouldn’t be surprised by this. He knew Scorpius was smitten with Rose early on. All he could talk about during holidays were Albus and his ‘beautiful, strong-willed’ cousin Rose. But Draco also knew that for the first few years of their Hogwarts career, Rose refused to give Scorpius the time of day, which put his mind at ease. Becoming best friends with Potter’s son was one thing, but Draco may just have a heart attack if Scorpius and Rose were now a—

Bloody hell, they’re absolutely a thing, aren’t they?

It’s all Draco can do to keep a straight face as he watches the two share a chaste hug, their hands grazing as they make their way to the orchard. He needs to stop it. No, he shouldn’t interfere.

Do Weasley and Granger know?

The thought of the girl’s parents shakes Draco from his stupor as his feet figure out how to move again, and he takes long, purposeful strides toward where they are sitting.

“Malfoy,” Potter greets him upon his arrival, his voice not as curt as it usually is.

“Potter.”

“Why d’you look like you’ve just eaten a puking pastille?” Ron asks, ignoring any form of welcome.

Draco’s response is interrupted as Ginny approaches from the house. “Draco! Hi. I didn’t realize Al invited Scorpius today,” Ginny looks at Harry for an explanation before she adds, “Not that he’s not welcome, of course!”

“I wasn’t aware, either,” Harry knits his brows in confusion.

“Well, I was under the impression it was Albus that invited him, but now I’m not so sure.”

“What do you mean?” Hermione asks, her face paling slightly.

Draco’s not surprised. Hermione’s always had an annoying knack to come to a conclusion faster than anyone he’s ever known. For once, he hopes she doesn’t disappoint in this regard.

“When Albus came to greet us, he said he didn’t know Scorpius was coming. At first, I believed Scorpius had forgotten to owl his response, but watching that interaction, I think Al may be covering for someone else once he caught on.”

Weasley was an Auror. Let’s see how long it takes him to string things together.

The answer is not long as the Trio’s eyes travel across the garden, just in time to catch Rose and Scorpius entering the orchard hand in hand as Albus slinks off in another direction. Draco doesn’t think he’s ever seen Ron so pale.

“Hermione, did Rose happen to give the name of the friend she was inviting today?” Ron asks.

“No,” Hermione squeaks, her voice weak from shock, and Draco’s surprised to see that something finally seems to shut the know-it-all up.

Harry bursts out into raucous laughter as Ginny bites back her own chuckle.

“I’m going to kill her.” Ron stands, nearly flipping the table in his haste, as he tears off toward the orchard. Hermione’s hot on his heels, and Draco finds his own limbs moving in the same direction.

He can barely hear Ginny’s quip as he follows his former enemies across the Burrow’s lawn,

“Looks like Rose doesn’t hate Scorpius, after all.”

#chudleycanonficfest2021 #HP fest #hp canon pairings #canon fest platonic #canon fest romantic #submission #romione #scorose #hinny

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accioxreparo · 4 years ago

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surprises | f.w.

synopsis: After being gone for a few years you and Fred show up at the Burrow for Halloween with a surprise no one expected.

pairing: Fred Weasley x reader

warnings: none except its unedited

a/n: hi I’m in love with dad!Fred and I thought this would be cute. And yes, their costumes are all inspired by The Greatest Showman cause I rewatched it the other day. Also it’s not my best writing and its a little rushed but I hope you guys still like it. One more fall prompt coming tomorrow for my dia de muertos inspired fic before we move on to winter!

“This is all your fault.”

“Is not.”

“Is too,” You set down the change of clothes you were in the process of transfiguring and turned to glare at Fred who looked much more at ease than you were. “If you hadn’t insisted on showing her that movie the day would have passed by like nothing.”

“How’d you expect me to say no when she was looking at me with those big eyes of hers?” Fred moved to stand behind the place where you were sitting. He leaned down and wrapped his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your temple.

An amused smile cracked through your otherwise stern expression and immediately Fred knew he had you. But you still shook your head as he jumped over the couch, landing beside you with a soft thud. “She’s got you wrapped around her little finger.”

He hummed, not bothering to argue at all because he knew you were right. “You both do.”

“Good answer,” You nodded as you put down your wand and the now shiny red coat. “Where do you plan on taking Evie trick or treating exactly? You’ve never been and we’ve only just moved back.”

“Don’t you worry, my darling,” The smile on Fred’s face, the same plotting, mischievous one you’d fallen in love with long ago, did little to reassure you now. “I’ve got just the thing.”

You weren’t too sure what you’d been expecting but finding the photos removed from all your albums laying out all over the counters of your kitchen the next morning was not it at all.

“Alright sweetheart,” Fred laughed a bit at the look on your face before showing Evie another picture. “What about your Uncle Georgie, what do we think he should be?”

Your eyes trained on your daughter as she stood on her chair and searched a different set of pictures. Her face was scrunched up in concentration and you couldn’t help but notice how strikingly similar she looked to Fred, who was wearing the exact same expression.

A warmth filled your whole being as you watched the two of them looking at the photos. Photos of your family that Evie had yet to meet. Time had simply gotten away from you during the last few years. Now that Fred had taken the liberty of hiring a manager for the New York location of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes you were back home.

“This one!” The sudden exclamation caught your attention and as she pointed towards a picture in one of her books.

“A monkey!” Fred laughed and picked her up from her seat making her giggle. “You are just brilliant, princess. Why don’t you go tell your mum what you picked out for her?”

You caught Evie as she ran for you, lifting her up with ease and setting her on your hip. “Mummy you have to wear the purple dress daddy got you. He says it’s the only one.”

Almost immediately you knew exactly which one she was talking about. One made of silk that was much too short to wear out on any other occasion. When you turned to look at Fred he’d placed a hand over his mouth in a weak attempt to keep from laughing.

“Did he now?”

“He did,” Evie nodded rapidly and you laughed as her hair shook all around her. “There’s a surprise too but we have to put on our costumes first.”

“Well why don’t you go start and I’ll help you in a minute, okay sweetheart?” The moment you put her down she ran for her room and you made your way to Fred and all the pictures he’d stacked on top of each other once more. “And just what is your surprise?”

He only beamed at you, tapping the edge of the pictures once on the counter before pocketing them. “We, my darling, are taking her to the Burrow.”

You stared at him for a moment before realizing that he was completely serious and crossing your arms in front of you. “Fred Weasley you cannot show up unannounced to your mothers with a little girl she has yet to know about, are you trying to give her a heart attack?”

“Technically I have been announced,” Fred stood and pulled you into him, hands resting on your waist. “I owled everybody last night and told them to be there by one to help me get everything ready.”

“Did you tell them why?”

“Of course not, it’s called a surprise for a reason, love.” Fred only chuckled and kissed you once. The action was quickly cut off by Evie shouting for you from her room. You sighed a bit before stepping out of his hold. “Stay here until I come get you two okay? And don’t forget that dress of yours.”

“The only reason I’m putting it on is for Evie.” You smirked a bit, already starting to move backwards.

“Oh of course, love,” Fred nodded before matching your smirk. “And if she just so happens to want to sleepover at her grandma’s tonight then that is completely a coincidence and we might as well take advantage of that outfit of yours.”

You laughed then turning around before he could say anything else. “Just go.”

“Hey mum,” Fred was beaming the moment he stepped into the Burrow once again. Almost instantly Molly wrapped him into a tight hug. She quickly went on a slight tangent about how long it’d been she’d seen him as he greeted Arthur.

“Where’s Y/N?” She asked as she finally moved to glance behind him to see if she could spot you.

“That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.” Fred didn’t miss the way his mum’s eyes narrowed at him in suspicion.

“What did you do?”

“Nothing!” Fred chuckled before reaching for the last of the photos he’d brought along with him. Molly only watched as he smiled at it before handing it over to her. “Nothing bad anyway. Something really good actually, look.”

Molly stared at him for a moment more before looking down at the picture in her hands. A gasp escaped her when she saw three people smiling up at her in the moving photograph. There was Fred who was pulling you into his side, you in the middle of laughing at something, and a little girl waving at the camera.

A little girl who was practically a carbon copy of you but with Fred’s eyes and freckles. The picture couldn’t possibly have been that old considering the fact that he looked almost the same. Nonetheless, it was the absolute last thing Molly had been expecting when she heard the two of you had moved back.

“What is it?” Arthur’s attention was caught again as he moved to see what the commotion was about. When he saw the picture he only smiled, taking it to look at it a bit closer. “Is that -”

“Fred Weasley, are you really telling us we have a granddaughter you didn’t tell us about?” His mum had set one hand on the back of a chair with the other on her waist and suddenly he felt like he was a teenager getting scolded again. The action hadn’t stopped him from laughing then and it certainly didn’t stop him now. Not when he could see the excited look quickly breaking across her face.

“Surprise?” Before Fred knew it he was being pulled down into another embrace again. He supposed it was a good thing the three of them were the only ones in the kitchen given the flurry of questions his mum and dad alone asked him. “Evangeline Molly Weasley. Hope you don’t mind, mum.”

“Of course not,” Molly shook her head, reaching up to stop the happy tears from falling down her face.

“How old is she?” Arthur asked, looking at the picture once more with just as bright a grin.

“Three, almost four though. Her birthdays in two weeks so it’s perfect timing really,” Fred gave a shrug when they stared at him surprised. “Please don’t look at me like that. It wasn’t a secret on purpose, I promise.”

“You didn’t think to maybe mention the fact that you had a daughter in one of your letters?”

“I would’ve but I kept forgetting,” Fred quickly continued when the two of them started speaking over each other to scold him again. “We didn’t not tell anybody! George has come to see Evie loads of times now, I just assumed he’d tell you.”

“Don’t try to turn this on your brother,” Molly shook her head again and gave an almost exasperated sigh. “My first grandchild and you don’t even tell me. Didn’t even bring her over for a visit.”

“It’s great to see you too, mum,” He couldn’t help but instinctively duck out of the way and chuckle again when she swatted a dish towel at him. “That’s actually why I sent everyone else off to get the house ready. Evie wanted to go trick or treating and I figured what better place to bring her than here. She’s getting ready with Y/N now.”

Almost on cue there was a chorus of shouting as the door that led into the backyard opened. Fred flipped the picture of himself, you, and Evie upside down on the table, quietly muttering surprise when he saw the look his mum gave him again.

“Hang on, this list isn’t fair!” Ron shook his head as he took said list out of Harry’s hands. “Why do I have to be the elephant and he gets the lion?”

“Forget that,” Harry snatched the list back and pointed at a line scribbled near the bottom. “This says Charlie is supposed to be helping me hang up the decorations but he disappeared like twenty minutes ago. Do you know how long it’s going to take me to put up everything you brought with you?”

“Charlie had to go see a friend about creatures to borrow,” Fred answered easily before motioning towards Ron. “Tell him to help.”

“No! I’m supposed to be putting extension charms on the shed. Why don’t you make Ginny help all she’s doing is getting the bags of candy ready!”

“Excuse you,” Ginny popped her head through the window to glare at Ron. “Do you know how complicated he made this? It’s going to take me hours!”

“Hours won’t do,” Fred glanced at the clock on the wall, the one that actually told time, and frowned. He’d been gone for an hour now and he knew that Evie would start getting restless soon. “We have about two hours at most.”

“What!” Came shouted from all three of them at once before they started yelling over each other. To Fred’s delight though, Molly was the one who shushed them that time.

“That’s enough! Now all of you get to it.” Molly waited until the three of them had gone once more before taking the picture back and tucking it into her pocket. To Fred’s surprise she turned to smile at him, placing a hand on his cheek before moving to look at the list Ron and Harry had left behind. “Now let’s get this done. The sooner we finish, the sooner you can bring my granddaughter and Y/N over.”

There it was. Fred only laughed once more before agreeing and walking into the backyard beside the two of them.

Exactly two hours later Fred was walking up to the Burrow again. He spun around quickly to pick up Evie before she saw all the decorations that were now hung up all over the place. You understood the look he gave you right away and moved to block the rest of her line of sight.

Fred lifted her up with complete ease and smiled when he saw the pout on her face. “I need you to close your eyes for me until I say so alright, princess?”

“But -”

“No buts, sweetheart,” You interrupted when she tried turning her head. She gave you a heavy sigh before placing a hand over her eyes. “There you go. I promise you’re going to love your surprise.”

You could hear Ron and Harry before you saw them. Their voices rang across the front yard as they argued and it wasn’t until they noticed the three of you that they stopped. A laugh bubbled up from inside of you at the sight of their jaws dropping and eyes going wide.

To your amusement, they were too shocked to give anything away as Fred set Evie down and covered her ears, making sure her eyes were still closed. “Go get everyone else will you?”

“That’s a child.” Harry was the first one to break out of his trance, looking quickly between Evie, you, and Fred.

“Good eye.”

“Bloody hell, she is not yours.” Ron shook his head, a faint smile spreading across his face as he resisted the urge to walk towards the three of you.

Fred, meanwhile, grinned proudly and gave a firm nod. “She is indeed.”

“Mum! Dad!”

From inside the house you could hear Molly shouting at everyone to take their assigned places. Not thinking of anything else you gravitated towards the house that had become your own over the years with your excitement ready to spill over.

The moment Molly saw you she pulled you in for a tight hug, Arthur appearing in the doorway soon after and doing the same. They looked at you after briefly looking at Fred who’s now talking to Evie, still holding her so she couldn’t see the decorations yet. “We are so proud of the two of you.”

“Thank you,” You really couldn’t help the way your whole body relaxed along with the overwhelming feeling of finally being home again. Of course the last few years with Fred and Evie were amazing and you’d adored every moment. But being there at the Burrow again, with everybody else you held dear, was a feeling you always knew you missed. “Come and meet her.”

You pulled them along and Fred looked at the three of you, eyes sparkling with this look of pure happiness. He finally let go of Evie and she didn’t hesitate before shooting around to face you. Her head tipped to the side curiously before an excited smile broke across her face.

“I know them!” She shouted, looking up at Fred and then at you. Finally her eyes landed on Molly and Arthur and she jumped up and down a couple times. “That’s grandma and grandpa.”

“Sure is,” You smiled and held your hand out to her, one she took with ease. “Come say hi, sweetheart.”

Evie took to them immediately, happily answering every question they asked her and telling them everything she’d heard from you and Fred. She easily grabbed hold of both their hands as they led her towards the front door and pointing out all the decorations, ones Fred had made sure they knew she loved.

Bill was the one to answer the door when she finally knocked and he didn’t quite know what to say at first. He stuttered a bit as he glanced back at you and Fred before he shook his head and ducked down to Evie’s level with a surprised laugh.

“My costume sure makes a lot more sense now,” Bill looked down at the striped cut off shirt Fred had thrown at him earlier before smiling at the little girl he’d yet to meet. “And who might you be?”

“Evie.” She stood a little straighter, fixing her coat and the hat on top of her head, then smiled at him. “My daddy told me who you were already.”

“He did?”

“Yeah.” She nodded eagerly, already having forgotten the bag in her hands. It’s wasn’t until Bill handed her a chocolate frog box that she even remembered she was there to trick or treat. He really couldn’t help but give in when she asked if he wanted to join them.

Evie, however, quickly left all of you behind when she saw little creatures she didn’t recognize flying over her head the moment she stepped into the backyard. Only moments later she caught sight of George and excitedly ran for him.

Charlie, who’d been standing beside him, stared for a moment as George picked her up so she could almost reach the little creatures. He was surprised when Evie then turned to him to ask about the tiny little dragon crawling across his shoulders, and took a second to process the fact that this little girl who already knew him was apparently his niece.

It was only when Fred walked over that he shook himself out of his trance and smiled, picking up the little dragon and letting it crawl across his hand and onto hers.

The same sort of scene followed everywhere they went. Evie knew each of them by name already and she didn’t hesitate to let them know. Each one of them had reacted similarly, conversing with Evie until she moved on to the next scene before moving towards you and Fred with surprise.

Though they each silently figured that they shouldn’t have been. The entire course of yours and Fred’s relationship had been filled with surprises and it only made sense that this would be your biggest one yet.

It was late by the time you finally made your way to Fred again after being pulled in every direction.

Golden hues surrounded the entire backyard as the sun started setting below the horizon. Everybody had long since surrounded Evie, more than happy to keep her entertained. At the moment she sat beside Arthur who was helping her carve one of the magically grown pumpkins they had picked together from the garden.

Meanwhile you and Fred were picking through her bag of sweets, silently hoping she wouldn’t notice how many you’d eaten already. You let out a content sigh as you leaned your head on Fred’s shoulder, “Why did we wait so long to do this?”

“I really don’t know,” He answered as he rested his head on yours, taking one of your hands with his free one. “Did you miss all of this as much as I did?”

“Absolutely.”

“Hey,” There was only a brief moment of silence before Fred suddenly turned to you with a new idea and another smirk on his face. “What are the odds we can escape for a bit now that we’ve got people to watch her for us?”

“You really have a one track mind don’t you?” You shook your head, watching as he stood up and offered you his hand.

To Fred’s delight though, you took it. He glanced behind him to make sure everyone else was otherwise occupied before winking and pulling you inside the house. “Only for you my darling.”

#ahh again i have no idea what this ending is but here we are #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #fred weasley x y/n #dad!fred #harry potter fanfiction #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x you #harry potter one shot #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfic #Harry Potter fic #hp fanfic #hp fic #hp imagine #HP series #my fics #surprises

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runningtwiceasfast · 4 years ago

Text

I’ve Never Not Wanted You

This is my contribution to the Hinny Ficfest organized by the wonderful @clarensjoy - Thank you for organizing and for the fantastic contributions. I haven’t published a fic in awhile and this one is very not proofread and rough but I wanted desperately to contribute something. I hope you don’t mind this one is under the wire! Eventually I will post a cleaned up version on AO3, but in the meantime I hope you enjoy!

Prompt: “I’ve never not wanted you”

“You have to come to dinner tonight. Mum has invited another suitor and we are all going to want to watch the bloodbath.” Ron’s mouth was full of curry, so it was hard to make out exactly what he meant, but the gist was an invite for dinner.

Harry scowled in response and pushed his food away from him, suddenly having lost his appetite.

“When will Molly stop? After Ginny has killed someone?”

Ron gave a barking laugh. “Maybe. It’s hard to stop a determined Weasley though.”

“So, who is more determined? Molly to marry Ginny off or Ginny to resist?” Harry wondered out loud, still staring at his noodles as if they had offended him.

Shrugging, Ron reached over and helped himself to Harry’s discarded lunch. “Mum just wants Ginny to be happy. Wizards marry pretty young in our world and everyone else has mostly coupled off,” Ron pointed his chopsticks at Harry. “Well, except you mate.”

Harry frowned.

“I’ve been busy,” he finally said, and Ron gave a series of nods.

“Of course. Ridding the world of unstoppable evil and what not. I’m sure that’s why Mum is focused on Ginny and not you.”

“That’s a bit of a double standard, isn’t it?” Harry asked, irritated at the way the conversation had changed. The last thing he wanted to talk about was his sorry dating life. Or Ginny’s for that matter.

“The entire wizarding world is a double standard innit? Best to just make the best to just make the best of it and enjoy the show.”

Harry merely gave a small noise of assent, turning back to his noodles to find them completely gone. He looked up at Ron’s sheepish look.

“I thought you were done.”

_*_*_*_*_*_*_

Avoiding the floo network entirely, Harry opted to apparate to the Burrow, pausing outside the familiar door to collect his thoughts.

Using his free hand, he smoothed down his shirt and jeans, his other hand grasping the bottle of red wine Arthur had mentioned he liked the last time they had dined together at Grimmauld Place. He rose his hand to knock, but the door swung open before his fist even made contact.

“Harry! You’ve come to save me!” Harry was rather unprepared for the sight of Ginny, fresh faced and beautiful, greeting him at the door and found himself unable to say much of anything other than a grumbled hello as he shoved the bottle of wine at her.

She was wearing a simple black cotton dress that hugged her waist and flared out at the bottom. Her hair was down and bouncing around her shoulders. He gestured stupidly at his ears.

“You are wearing the earrings.”

She gave a tinkling laugh and pushed her hair behind her ear so he could see more clearly the diamond studs that he had given her last Christmas. “I’ve practically never taken them off. They are gorgeous. Probably one of the best gifts I’ve ever gotten.” She smiled at him sincerely and he felt his heart rate accelerate uncomfortably.

“I’m glad you like them so much.” He smiled back at her and they remained that way, smiling at each other silently before Ginny was called rather abruptly from the other room.

She gave a grimace in response. “She’s invited Ernie Macmillan over can you believe it? Him and Hermione are currently fighting over some horribly boring historical fact in the other room and she expects me to marry this man?” She rolled her eyes and Harry gave a weak laugh in response.

Learning up, she gave him a light kiss on the cheek, her hand resting on his arm. “It’s so lovely to see you, Harry. Please feel free to rescue me from inane conversation as you see fit.”

She floated away and he stood there struck rather dumb for a few moments.

Following the trail of voices from the entryway, Harry entered the living area to various greetings. It appeared he was one of the last to arrive and he grabbed a butterbeer and joined in where Ron and George were huddled together by the fireplace.

“I think the formula is off. People shouldn’t be incapacitated. Just unconscious for a short while.”

George shook his head. “They are fine if you just poke them—Harry! You’ve come to join us!” George gave him a broad smile that Harry couldn’t help but reciprocate.

“Is this for something you’ve already invented, or you have created something else to wreak havoc on the wizarding public?”

“Harry my dear boy, I’m not sure why it can’t be both,” George said sincerely causing Harry to snort into his bottle.

Ginny’s laughter brought their attention to where she was standing in the center of the room with Ernie.

Ron frowned. “Maybe mum actually found a winner.”

They watched as Ginny laughed again at something Ernie said, her hand placed on his arm.

“Apparently he works with Percy. Probably in the Department of who has the biggest stick up their arse,” George laughed to himself.

Harry frowned as he watched Ernie with his patrician features and pedigree push a tendril of crimson hair behind Ginny’s ear causing her to blush.

“What did that bottle do to you mate?” Ron joked and Harry looked down at the tight grip he was maintaining on his butterbeer. He loosened his grip and stretched his fingers.

Molly’s appearance in the room quieted most conversations as she herded everyone into the dining area where amazing smells were wafting. It required gymnastics in order for everyone to get into the magically enhanced room.

“No no Ginny. Don’t sit there. Sit over here by Ernie,” Molly smiled warmly at the tall boy. Ernie smiled back in a way that made Harry’s hand flinch towards his wand, imagining all the new curses he had recently mastered in his second year auror training.

“Mum it took me straining my hop to even get a seat. I’m going to stay right here,” she turned to Harry who suddenly realized how close she was. “You are ok with that right Harry?” Her eyes widened slightly and he managed to cotton on.

“Er yes sorry Molly. Ginny is fine here.” She gave him a brilliant smile and nudged his shoulder with hers.

“I think I’ve lost some of my brain cells.” Harry had to resist flinching as he felt her breath brush his hair as Ginny leaned over and whispered to him.

He gave a tight-lipped smile. “You seemed rather fond of this one,” he whispered in return to her causing her to wave a hand at him dismissively.

“I’m just trying to be nice. If I hex this one she will just bring in someone worse. I heard Malfoy was keen,” she gave a dramatic shiver, her impish smile telling another story.

Harry felt a rush of relief he tried not to analyze. “Molly can keep on bringing by all the unsuitable young men of the English wizarding world if it means I get to sit next to you.” The words are soft and filled with way too much feeling and for one frightening heartbeat he wished he could take them back.

She remained silent, grabbing a dinner roll form the passed tray and fidgeting with it between her hands. “Harry, you shouldn’t say such things to me,” she finally said mildly, refusing to look at him. “I might start getting ideas.”

Impulsively he reached for one of her hands, forcing her to drop the bread. He pulled her hand under the table and squeezed it gently.

They sat with hands clasped under the table, but otherwise ignoring each other, answering direct questions but otherwise staying mostly silent. Harry thought he saw Ginny’s face was rather shiny and he wondered what he looked like. Probably pale white and sickly.

“Ginny, how goes the season? Should I be placing my Harpy’s bets now?” Ernie asked Ginny directly causing her to drop Harry’s hand and inhale shakily.

“Oh, I’m just reserve for now. But a bet on the Harpies is always a safe bet,” Ginny gave a wicked smile causing the table to collectively give a ruckus laugh.

“Ernie, you know Ginny is the youngest reserve chaser in the league,” Molly boasted, and Harry noticed Ginny resist rolling her eyes.

“Mum, I’m so glad you support my career choice now.” The words were biting but the soft look in her eyes made Harry think Ginny actually meant them.

Harry stole a look at Justin. To his disgust the boy was looking at Ginny rather starry eyed. It isn’t like Harry could blame him; a similar look frequently graced his own face.

He was rather sick of it all though. The constant parade of unworthy men being thrust at Ginny.

The rather petulant thought that Molly had never asked him to be one of those unworthy men flew through his brain unhelpfully. Perhaps everyone had given up on the possibility of him and Ginny ever making it work.

They had made it work though. For a few blissful months they had been something new and delicate and untouchable. Frequently Harry thought back to some of those times. Of walks around the school, hands clasped and of breathless goodbyes leaving them both wanting and late for class.

Ever since the war Harry had been trying to pick up the pieces, but it had been hard and often he had found himself rather aimless. Without even realizing it, he had found that he had pulled back on all the ties that bound him-rarely coming by the Burrow, never seeing friends other than around the office and busying himself with work and tracking down rogue Death Eaters.

He had finally looked up and while he had stayed in the same spot, everyone else had moved on. Ron had ditched the aurors and found his calling with George in the joke shop. Hermione had proven herself immensely capable apart from him in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

And Ginny had graduated from Hogwarts and immediately absconded to Harpy training camp.

Unfortunately, in all his chosen one lessons with Dumbledore, the wise wizard had never told him what happens after the bad guy has been slain. What happens to the chosen one when he’s done being chosen?

In this instance it seemed as if Harry was doomed to sit there and watch as everyone he loved moved on without him. Bitterly he looked down at the roast on his plate, moving the discarded pees around with his fork.

“You gonna finish that?” Harry looked up to find he was almost done at the table, Ron leaning over him, fork in hand.

Scowling, Harry pushed his plate towards Ron who tucked in happily. “Ernie left a bit ago,” Ron said, in between bites. Harry’s eyes snapped up at that.

“Why would I care whether or not Ernie had left?” Harry snarked at him, frowning when Ron paused his eating to give Harry a knowing look.

“Either way, Ginny is in the backyard if you want to talk to her,” Ron scooped up some mashed potatoes. “Or not.” He shrugged.

Harry pushed away from the table and paused in front of the living room. He could hear the rest of the Weasley’s making their normal noises and he hesitated before joining, his eyes straying to the backyard where Ron had said Ginny was.

Whatever gravitational pull Ginny had made the decision for him as Harry turned and slipped out the door.

She was silhouetted against the starry sky, the light of the moon reflecting off her hair in a way that made his throat dry. He approached her slowly and she turned at his footsteps, giving him a warm smile.

“I came out to get some fresh air,” she told him unnecessarily and he plopped down next to her, his arm brushing hers. “These family gatherings can be a lot,” she said, her voice so quiet he could barely hear her, but that’s probably more to do with the quick sound of his heartbeat in his ears.

Feeling that same impulsive urge he had felt during dinner that let him hold her hand, he lifted his arm up and over her shoulders. They both froze at the contact, but before he could regret it, she leaned in, setting her head on his shoulder.

“Where did Ernie go?” Harry asked eventually, that familiar monster roaring in his chest.

Ginny leaned even further into his side. “He got an owl, had to go into the office.” Her hair brushed against his neck and he caught a whiff of her comforting flower scent that hadn’t changed since sixth year.

“Did you want him to stay?” He asked her, the darkness giving him some sort of courage.

She shook her head. “Not really. He wasn’t as bad as the other’s, but he’s not really who I want,” she said, voice low and husky.

Finally, she sighed deeply and pulled away, pulling her knees under the skirt of her dress and into her stomach.

“At least he seemed to want me,” she mumbled, and Harry took a deep breath, tired of always waiting for the right moment.

“I’ve never not wanted you, Ginny.”

Amazingly, the words didn’t sound weak or pathetic out loud like they did in his head. Instead, all he felt was relief.

The sound of a sharp intake of breath was the only indication that he had been heard. Summoning his Gryffindor courage, he looked up at Ginny. She was staring at him, eyes wide.

“You want me?” She asked finally, incredulously.

He ran a hand through his hair nervously. “Watching your mum parade those boys in front of you has been a special kind of hell for me Gin. I miss you.” They aren’t the most eloquent words, but they are the ones he had.

“Then why didn’t you say anything, you stupid arse?” Ginny finally spit out and Harry let out a choke of laughter.

“I’m an idiot?” He told her helpfully and she shook her head, a fond smile on her face.

“Can you come closer Harry? I need to smack you,” she laughed, and Harry obliged, scooting back towards her until there was no space between them, his body tingling in anticipation.

“So no more set ups from your mum?” He asked, moving his face toward hers so close he could feel each breath she took, could count the freckles on her face from just the soft light of the stars.

“Harry I can confidently tell you I will no longer let my mum dictate my romantic life from here on out,” she giggled and Harry fought the smile that threatened to climb up his cheeks.

“Harry,” she said, drawing his attention back to her and her lips.

“Yes?”

“I’ve never not wanted you to kiss me,” she said before closing the small gap between them, her soft, sweet lips under his. Suddenly all the pining and scowling became worth it as he rolled them over, her body under his, molding to each other as if reminding him that they’ve done this before.

As he kissed and kissed her, lips trailing down her neck, he sent a silent thank you to whatever work emergency had claimed Ernie’s attention. Tonight and forever Ginny was his. And he set about showing her over and over.

_*_*_*_*_*_*_

“Ernie Macmillan? Really?” Ron took a noisy bite of his biscuit.

“I don’t know what you are talking about, Ronald,” Molly tutted, waiving her wand so the corresponding feather duster would wipe down the windows properly.

“I just want you to know that I know what you did,” Ron shrugged, gesturing out the window Molly was cleaning to where Harry and Ginny were clearly engaged in some unwholesome activities.

Molly smiled at the image the pair made before closing the curtain and turning back towards her youngest son.

“Don’t you have your own home?” He lifted his hands in surrender before leaving the room. Molly watched as he disappeared from view. Really, what was she supposed to do? Let them pine away for each other forever? No, she did the right thing. She did feel a little bad poor Ernie would have to go all the way into work to find that emergency cauldron bottom situation wasn’t quite the emergency that ministry owl had made it seem. But the boy had gotten a home cooked meal for dinner so he surely made out alright.

Smiling one more time to herself, a very satisfied Molly Weasley set about cleaning dishes, brainstorming how she might next get Percy to dinner along with that nice young man Oliver Wood.

#hinnyfic #hinnyficfest #runningwrites

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thedistantdusk · 3 years ago

Text

Arcadia, Chapter 1

My submission for the 2021 Hinny birthday challenge for the HG discord! Thanks to Liza for organizing, to @accio-broom for the Brit-pick, to @secretkeeper13 for the beta, and to anyone else who helped (I'm probably forgetting a few folks, apologies).

The challenge theme this year was content based on TV! This is an (extremely loose) X-Files AU, but you absolutely don’t need to be familiar with X-Files to understand this :D

TW (spoilers): swearing, references to (severe) mental health concerns, (eventual) consensual relations

___________________________________________________________

D A Y + O N E

The woman probably finds herself charming as she stands in their driveway, her hands clasped in frozen excitement.

But Ginny just finds her creepy.

Really fucking creepy.

Harry drops hired car into first gear as they pull in. This woman— the head of the village council, Ginny reckons, the one she spoke to on the phone— wears perfectly-pleated Chino pants with a lavender jumper draped across her shoulders.

Her attire is standard for a posh village… especially a new-build village, one with a covenant and loads of stupid rules. It’s the woman’s eerie, opened-mouthed grin that shoots a chill up Ginny’s spine.

Her stark white teeth glint in the sun, but her smile doesn’t move an inch… and the longer Ginny stares, the more unsettled she grows. The only thing larger than her grin is the mane of yellow hair that surrounds her face like an ersatz halo.

Harry clears his throat as he turns off the car; Ginny realizes this is the first sound either of them has made since leaving London.

Awkward.

She reaches for her door handle, but the random woman gets to it first.

“You must be Jenny and Henry!” she shrieks, yanking on Ginny’s shoulders before she’s even unbuckled. “Oh, sorry! Love, do let me get the strap!”

Ginny’s on her feet and pressed to the stranger’s perfumed bosom before she has a chance to tell her she can manage just fine herself, thanks.

“Lovely to meet you in person!” the woman cries, nearly shaking with enthusiasm. It’s not until Ginny’s returned a weak squeeze that the vice-like grip around her middle weakens.

Rubbing her aching shoulder, she sneaks a glimpse at Harry; while she fought for air, he apparently climbed out of the car, only to stare at the two of them like a deer in the headlights. Now his elbow’s at an awkward angle, his hand behind his back, which could only mean one thing: he’s reaching for the wand in his back pocket.

Shit.

Ginny shakes her head and hopes her eyes convey what her lips can’t: She’s just a standard Muggle weirdo. Relax.

“I’m Jane. Jane Connors. In the flesh!” The woman (whose voice Ginny now finds painfully familiar) throws her hands in the air and twirls on the spot. “I take it you’re Jenny and Henry Petri!”

Harry interrupts with a booming chuckle before Ginny says a word; in three quick steps, he’s wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “That’s Pee-tri, actually. Like the dish,” Harry— Henry— adds with a wink. “And speaking of dish…” His eyes travel over Ginny, his voice going all deep and silky.

She bites back a shudder, hating the way her stomach drops as his fingers graze her arm. All that keeps her grounded is knowing the truth: Harry’s good at his job, nothing more. The only reason he’s suddenly become a skilled actor is that his career demands it.

Hers does too, she reminds herself firmly. And if she has any intention of successfully completing her first solo mission, she needs to get her shit together. Now.

Ginny blinks up at Harry, appropriately sobered; his eyes glimmer with mirth. As suspected, he’s only doing his job. Touch is just part of the assignment description. He has no way of knowing what it does to her— because really, truly, it shouldn’t.

And maybe if she keeps telling herself that, it’ll eventually come true.

Harry winks at Jane, tugging Ginny against his side. “My new wife and I had a long journey from the city! We were hoping to get some alone-time before tucking in, I’m sure you understand.”

Jane looks puzzled. “You— but it’s 5:43!” An uncomfortable giggle burbles from her lips. “You must be moved in by 6. Surely you’ve read the covenant rules?”

“Erm… may have missed that one,” Ginny lies. “There’s quite a few, see. We’re used to—”

But Jane shoves her fingers into her mouth, cutting her off with an ear-piercing whistle. Just as quickly, another chill races up Ginny’s spine. People up and down the street emerge from their semi-detached homes and race towards them, their faces in downcast unison.

They’ve all been watching. Waiting for the signal. Ready.

Ginny’s not sure how long ago the Department of Mysteries delivered the moving van and left it on the street, but the horde of random people aren’t fussed with the details, either. Within five seconds of Jane’s whistle, the strangers throw open the back door and begin an unloading process that reeks of military precision.

“Here’s the house key!” trills Jane, pulling it from her pocket. “Oh, and Petris!” She turns to Harry and Ginny, wagging her finger. “I’ll also need a copy of your car key, ASAP. We’re firm believers in the buddy system here in Arcadia.” She returns her attention to the stone-faced neighbors, who are now scurrying to the door. “This way, friends— right this way!”

“I— that’s really unnecessary,” Ginny says, bewildered, as people rush inside their new house, boxes in arms. “We’re perfectly able to—”

“Nonsense!” cries a man with grey sideburns as he takes a box from the back. “We’re neighborly here. You’d better get used to it.”

“Yes!” chimes another voice. A chubby man wearing a Polo and a golden necklace emerges from behind the lorry, hurrying up the walk. “We’re like a family here. We all— oh no!” He lets out a startled cry as a box labeled FINE CHINA topples from his arms and lands on the pavement with a thump.

He rushes towards it, face falling, but Ginny’s main concern is the box’s silent descent; she runs over, making a mental note to have a word with the designer of these props. Would something noisy and fragile have killed them? For fuck’s sake...

“Sorry,” the man says with a pained wince. “I’m just so clumsy. I-I promise, I’ll—”

“It’s fine,” Ginny soothes, dropping to her knees. “Don’t worry, really. We aren’t too big on dishes.”

Maybe if she keeps him talking, he won’t realize it’s bloody empty. Seriously, this is amateur shit. Luckily, he’s too distracted to notice.

The man offers a sheepish smile. “I’m Mike. Mike Snodgrass. You may have seen Mike and Jess in the resident guide, but erm…” He trails off, sadness in his voice.

Ginny cocks her head to feign confusion, but of course she’s familiar with Jess Snodgrass, 25, reported missing last November. Her photo’s been on Ginny’s desk for almost as long. Even now, Jess appears in Ginny’s mind with such startling clarity that she can almost see her beside Mike... all 5 feet of her, with curly red hair, bright blue eyes, and a lopsided grin.

Jess Snodgrass… Arcadia’s third missing person. The first to disrupt the couples-only disappearance pattern.

Mike shrugs. “But erm… it’s just me now,” he repeats. “I’m a primary teacher at Saint Julian’s, just up the road.” He nods to his left. “So if you’ve got any homework or school questions, give me a ring!” He pastes on a smile that doesn’t match his eyes; it’s an expression with which Ginny’s well-acquainted.

“I’ll have to remember that, Mike Snodgrass,” Ginny says, shaking his hand.

She immediately regrets it.

Seeing Mike Snodgrass on paper is one thing, but touch makes him human. His hand feels big and warm, his smile earnest and sweet; he reminds her so strongly of Neville that her stomach aches. Ginny breathes through her nose and focuses on the way his necklace — a medallion of Saint Julian, appropriately enough — sparkles in the sun.

“Like I said, I’m all alone,” Mike repeats, offering his hand to help her up. “If you ever need anything, Jenny, don’t hesitate to ask!”

Ginny taps her chin. “Actually, I do have a question! I reckon it’s just a rumor, though. You don’t have to confirm or deny.” She winks at him and leans in as a woman in a fleece jumper rushes past.

Mike’s smile widens, his face brightening… and ah fuck, that one hurts, because she’s about to break his heart.

“Mike…” Ginny murmurs, studying his expression. The more she says his name, the less he reminds her of Neville; she wants to keep it that way. “With everyone being so bloody hospitable here, how come there are so many disappearances?”

Mike stops bobbing. His smile vanishes as quickly as the former occupants of Jenny and Henry’s new home. When Ginny looks back into his eyes, her gut plummets with a sensation of wretched familiarity.

Because she expected sadness on his face… the same type she saw when he mentioned Jess’ name. Sadness she can deal with; sadness is painful, but she sees it all the time.

She sees something worse, though.

Fear.

And not day-to-day fear. This isn’t like hating needles or avoiding clown movies. Mike’s face is filled with the sort of wide-eyed, gripping, primal terror that seizes your insides in a vice. This is how you’d feel if your entire family were held captive in a dungeon, and a single word to the wrong person would spell their deaths.

Or how you’d feel if your ex-boyfriend were the corrupt government’s most desired fugitive… and you still fancied him very much, indeed.

“I… n-no idea,” Mike finally stutters, blinking. Then he sucks in a deep breath through his nose, his expression brightening again.

“So what do you and Henry do for work?” he asks in a booming voice, his grin now unnaturally wide. “We’ve got a carpool to the city if you’re interested. Reducing our carbon footprint is of utmost importance here in Arcadia!” He finishes by spreading his hands in each direction before placing them on his hips, that shit-eating grin still plastered across his face.

In another life, Ginny might’ve laughed. There certainly would have been a lot to cackle over, if she had the luxury of easy laughter. After all, she may as well be living in an am-dram nativity performance, complete with an overeager Joseph beckoning her to the stables after her harrowing desert journey.

Now, though, his reply only fills her with sad, professional detachment. Because fucking hell, how much did this poor man rehearse to get that line right?

She takes pity on him and snaps the bait. “My husband and I work from home,” she says, matching his volume. Someone’s clearly listening; it’s the least she can do. “You won’t see us out much.” Ginny brings the box to her hip. “And seriously, don’t worry about replacing the dishes, either. We mostly do takeaway.”

“No, let me bring you new ones,” Mike insists, his eyes pleading. “Tomorrow? Would that be—”

“What is this?” a voice demands from the back of the truck. Ginny peers around Mike’s shoulder. The man with the gray sideburns stares inside the lorry with a look of disgust.

“A trampoline!” Harry says, stepping aside as another neighbor races past. “We’re thrilled to put it in the garden, aren’t we, Jenny Cakes?”

Jenny Cakes. Is he fucking serious? Two can play at this game, prat.

“Indeed we are, Hen,” she croons, leaning into his side. “Jen and Hen.” She heaves a dreamy sigh and stares into his eyes. “We even rhyme!”

“Rhyming or not, this isn’t allowed,” the man barks, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’d have to apply for a special exemption with Mr Gogolak, but in the meantime…” He checks his watch. “5:53. Seven minutes. It’ll have to go in the garage tonight. I’m Oliver, by the way— Oliver Skinner.”

Harry gives him a theatrical scowl. “I’d say nice to meet you, but those who are enemies of trampolines are generally enemies of mine.”

Ginny bites the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing, but Oliver remains unamused. He raises his pointer finger as if to say something, but Harry gets there first.

“Onnnnly kidding!” Harry winks and claps his shoulder. “Hope we can be fast friends, Oliver.”

Oliver just glares back. “Count on it.”

_______________________________________________________

Ginny’s taking this whole thing very seriously. Not that Harry blames her.

Her voice echoes against the walls of the empty home as she paces around the sitting room, her camera flipped outward to record.

Despite his five-year Auror career, Harry has no real concept of what Unspeakables do. Which, he supposes, is by design. He knows they… know things. Secret things. Things you’d be happier not knowing. He also knows that Kingsley isn’t fond of them. Or perhaps it’s Attica Monkstanley, Ginny’s boss, who King dislikes in particular. Attica’s famous for her refusal to disclose anything — ever. This ranges from potential terrorist plots to her favorite type of sandwich. Thus, Attica isn’t particularly popular. After a career built on helping absolutely no one outside her department, the request for Auror backup on an undisclosed, top-secret endeavor went over about as well as a hippogriff stampede in a posh tea room.

Harry sighs at the blank walls of their would-be living room. King’s in charge now. Big in charge. He or Robards were the obvious choices to accompany Ginny — sorry, Unspeakable GW — on this mission, but when you’re Big In Charge, you call the shots. The shot King called was to pass the assignment to Robards, who in turn passed it to Harry; Robards decided he didn’t need to (direct quote) “take off a week from pre-existing assignments for some fake marriage, new-build village bullshit in the arse-end of Muggle nowhere.”

Admittedly, Harry’s in a bit of a lull at the moment. He’d been assigned to track and recover Yaxley, but that trail went cold on the border of Romania. Harry’s certain he’s just beyond their reach, maybe hiding in a cave, but seeing as how Harry’s not Big In Charge, his opinion doesn’t exactly matter.

Which is precisely how he’s found himself in this bland house in the village of Arcadia, pretending to be married to his ex-girlfriend… who, incidentally, he’s still hopelessly infatuated with, even five years after he ended things.

Because Harry Potter is nothing if not pathetic.

There’d been no realistic way to decline the assignment, though. Not that he’d tried. Seriously, imagine explaining that to your boss: “Mm yeah, sorry King, I can’t do my job because I still wank to the memory of Unspeakable GW riding my—”

Ginny’s narration jerks him from his thoughts. “It’s 6:15 PM on our first day of the assignment,” she dictates into her phone. “Auror Potter and I are secured in the home, posing as Muggle couple Jenny and Henry Petri.”

“Pee-tri!” Harry corrects, throwing his voice across the room.

He hopes he’s loud enough for the camera to detect, but he isn’t exactly brave enough to find out. Harry picks up their empty curry boxes and scampers into the kitchen without so much as a backward glimpse. He may have been forced into this assignment, but he’ll be damned if he can't have a bit of fun.

Her narration stops as he dips out of sight; if Harry were the gambling sort, he’d bet all the gold in Gringotts that she shot him a two-fingered salute away from the camera.

For some fucked up reason, the thought stirs something warm and exciting that lies dormant in his stomach. What’s worse is this feeling almost makes him smile.

No.

Harry draws a breath as he enters the kitchen.

As Kingsley’s told him several times, this arrangement is strictly business— regardless of his past with her. And in retrospect, yeah, the whole setup is an easy way for King to A) refuse responsibility himself, and B) put Monkstanley in a tough spot if it goes pear-shaped.

Harry pops open the rubbish bin. This is just the sort of liability King’s always looking to avoid, really, but— wait. He blinks down into the bin to make sure he’s not just seeing things, but nope… for some reason, the interior is divided into three sections, each in a different color.

Huh! Harry mulls this over before picking the blue bin at random and tossing the containers in. Maybe he’d know what each color meant if he bothered to read the covenant rules. Fortunately, he had much more exciting plans that particular evening involving Ron, loads of butterbeer, and a Canons/Falcons match from hell.

Whatever. Surely Arcadia would make an effort to clearly explain their recycling system if they really cared about the planet.

He returns to the living room just as Ginny’s providing a more in-depth introduction. “Right. I’m Unspeakable GW, badge number”— her voice becomes garbled gibberish, an extra level of concealment, before slipping back to normal speech— “and we’re here to investigate the series of unexplained Muggle disappearances in the village of Arcadia. As this may involve a potential escapee from the Thought Chamber, the Department thought it best for me to investigate. The Thought Chamber’s been my area of expertise for four years…”

Harry sinks into the sofa as she continues; he’s unsure if he should be sad or impressed that this is teaching him more about her job than she ever shared. Not that she did this for long while they were actually together, mind. Nonetheless, his chest flutters again with that stupid bittersweet pride as Ginny scans the room with the phone camera. All of this pageantry is necessary for her job, he knows. Careful documentation. Detailed recordings.

But for fuck’s sake, look at how much she’s done! She’s the youngest Junior Unspeakable in history, soon to become Senior, if this mission works out. She’s composed, she’s eloquent, she’s graceful. Another smile threatens to break through before Harry suppresses it; he just hopes that there’s someone in her life to remind her of how special she is.

She’s really dressed for the part, too. Harry’s certain that none of this is actually in her wardrobe. Seeing her out of jeans and a jumper is off-putting, but she’s done it so damn well. She once told him that most of her clothing choices were based on how easily she could wear them flying.

He swallows the sadness creeping up his throat. He doesn’t even know if she still flies, but she doesn’t in this outfit, that’s for damn sure. Her trainers are impeccably white, with a floral button-up blouse done up to her neck. She’s a bit like a young, beautiful Aunt Petunia; Harry reckons this is more or less the goal, but when she turns around to describe the stairwell, his eyes drop to her arse.

Shit.

He glances away as quickly, but he got a good look. Her casual trousers are rolled at the ankles, but they’ve done nothing to make her look… plain. Harry shuffles on the sofa, desperate for anything else to think about. Somehow, Aunt Petunia’s face still puckers in his mind’s eye, but now he can’t escape the mental image of her bent over the oven of 4 Privet Drive, only this time sporting a round, perfect—

“Potter’s here for backup,” Ginny says, returning to the sitting room. “I’m on primary investigation.”

Thank God; he sighs at the welcome distraction before remembering that bantering with her has always been an effective palate cleanser. So he does that, instead.

“Well, you know what they say,” Harry calls, leaning back against the cushions. “There’s nothing less interesting than the suburbs. Which is why I could never do your job, Jen.” He ends with a wink, resting his hands behind his head.

Ginny arches a brow, holding the camera in front of her. “And please take note, Attica, that the next time this happens, I’ll be the one to choose the names.”

She means it casually… he knows she means it casually. But something in her words pricks him. Irritates him. Wedges beneath his skin.

“Quite an assumption I’ll ever spend this much time with you again,” Harry mutters under his breath.

Shit.

He freezes. He didn’t mean to say that out loud, at least not so… bitterly. Once upon a time, he possessed the social graces to think before replying like that— but days of interpersonal nuance are long gone. They belonged to a carefree teenager with few thoughts aside from the next time he’d run his fingers through the thick, red hair that currently swayed in a long ponytail.

By the time he looks back up at her, Ginny’s face is filled with disappointment. And she’s closed her phone.

“I’ll have to redo that last bit of filming,” she says with a sniff. “But for what it’s worth?” She raises her chin. “You didn’t mind spending time with me in the distant, distant past, Auror Potter.”

Ha!

That was a tremendous understatement.

He’d been in love with her. Stupidly. Disgustingly. The first six months after the war were a blur of sex and mourning. They’d been so punch drunk and delirious that they probably used each other’s bodies more than either of them knew. He really thought they’d have a future, though… that they’d end up getting married and buying a house. Except theirs would have been different than this one. Filled with far more character and history and warmth. Their home would have smelled like baking bread and sounded like kids giggling and felt like a soft blanket on a cold night.

But none of that had anything to do with the way he snapped. So why bring it up, really?

“Sorry,” Harry whispers, tucking his hands beneath his bum. “That… I didn’t mean. I’m sorry. I just meant that we don’t see each other much, and…” He lets out a slow breath. Best to stop talking before he digs himself deeper.

“I forgive you,” Ginny says quietly. A full second passes before she offers him a smirk. “As long as I can still call you Pookie Pie in front of the neighbors.”

Harry blinks at the carpet with a sad smile. “Deal.”

#harry/ginny #harry/ginny fanfic #fanfic #x-files #harry potter fanfiction

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cheesyficwriter · 4 years ago

Note

Hello!! are you accepting prompts...? 👉👈 if so, may i request: angsty dialogue, number 6, "Don't look at me like that." "Like what?" "Like you still love me." 🤞🤞

Hey there, anon! I sure am. I hope you're a fan of angst w/ a happy ending 😉💜 thanks for the request!

It's Always Been You

"Come and dance."

Hermione skeptically eyed Ron’s waiting hand. "Ron…"

"Come on, Hermione. It's just one dance. Are you that afraid to be close to me?"

Hermione surveyed the crowd around them at Harry and Ginny’s wedding — no one was paying them any mind, but she couldn’t shake the anxious feeling she had just from Ron’s deep ocean eyes boring into hers.

"Yes."

"Please," Ron implored on earnestly, and Hermione knew her fight was weakening.

She timidly placed her hand in his, and one corner of his lips curved into a sly smile. He guided them both out onto the dance floor, weaving their bodies through several other couples before finding an open spot. Ron turned towards her and placed one of his hands on the small of her back, joining his other hand with hers and resting them on his chest. Instinctively, Hermione’s remaining hand curled around to the nape of his neck.

They started to sway slowly in a familiar rhythm with the rich, melodic sound of the soft music playing in the background.

“Do you want to move a bit closer?” Ron whispered, and a shiver ran down her spine. She barely registered him gently pushing in on her back before her heels started shuffling towards him.

They were close enough now that Hermione could feel Ron’s breath hot on her cheek, and she resisted the urge to lay her head on his shoulder.

"Don't look at me like that," she pleaded, deeply intimated by Ron’s intense gaze.

"Like what?"

"Like you still love me."

Ron blinked back at her, a flash of surprise crossing his face before his eyes narrowed. "So what if I do?"

Hermione audibly gasped, swallowing roughly. "You can't."

"Why not?" He retorted immediately, like he was asking the simplest question in the world.

"We didn't work."

"We didn't work, or you didn't want us to work?"

Hermione’s jaw tightened, silently scolding herself for bringing up such a topic during a vulnerable, very public, moment. "We let each other go."

"Then what are we doing, still holding on to each other, right now?" He squeezed her hand tighter to make a point, and Hermione was losing her ability to think logically.

"It...it was a figure of speech."

"No, it wasn't and you bloody well know it."

“Ron, don’t take advantage of a girl in a weak moment,” Hermione sighed, turning her head so that he couldn’t see her tears.

He knew her well enough to see right through her facade, and he hooked a finger under her chin to study her face. Hermione found herself waiting for Ron’s next words, a flutter of nervous anticipation in her stomach.

“If you’re weak, then I’m weak too, Hermione.”

Hermione let out a choked laugh, allowing him to brush a stray tear away from her cheek with the pad of his thumb. "What are we supposed to do?"

"Hell if I have any answers,” Ron chuckled briefly before his gaze darkened again. “But, I let you walk out of my life once already, Hermione. I'm not willing to do it again."

"I want to believe you." She was terrified — absolutely terrified at the prospect of losing him for a second time. She felt tortured between her head and her heart. And her heart was ready to take flight.

"Then say you do. Say you'll never be with another bloke again. Just me. Only me."

His words lit a fire underneath her skin, a fire that she had convinced herself burned out a long time ago. Hermione was just now realizing that it hadn’t — not by a long shot.

"Haven't you figured it out by now, Ron? It is you. It's always been you."

The warmth of Ron’s smile radiated through her, and suddenly he was pressing his forehead gently to hers. They had stopped swaying a long time ago, without a care as to who was watching.

"We're really going to do it this time?" His whispered breath tickled her nose.

Hermione let her fingertips glide across his freckled skin, feeling the soft ginger hairs that prickled up on his bare arms until she reached his rolled-up sleeves. She gripped onto his elbows tightly with her eyes closed. "Yeah, we really are.”

"Cause we can't ever go back. I swear Hermione, if you decide two days from now that you don't want this, I'm not sure I could physically or mentally handle it…"

Hermione reached up to cup his cheek, instantly washing away the cloud of doubt that was etched across his face. "Ron. I want this. I'm not going anywhere. I wouldn't have gone anywhere a year ago if I had known…"

"We know now." Ron’s gaze traced a pattern around her face, and her heart ached to smash her lips against his. She needed to feel him again, to feel that this was all real and not just another bout of wishful thinking.

"We do," she confirmed, not bothering to hide the urgency in her tone.

"We've come a long way since the day we met on the Hogwarts train."

"We have, haven't we?"

"I don't have any dirt on my nose right now, do I?" He teased.

Hermione giggled in disbelief, "I can't believe you remember that."

"Of course I do. It was the first thing you ever nagged me about."

"I don't nag!" She playfully hit him on the arm.

Ron caught her hand and intertwined their fingers. "It's adorable whenever I catch you fibbing."

His cheeky retort elicited an exasperated eye roll from Hermione. "How romantic."

His laughing stopped, and his expression grew serious, making Hermione’s heart catch in her throat. "Am I mental to say that I don't want you to ever stop nagging me?"

"What makes you say that?"

"If you stop nagging me, that means we're not us anymore. And I don't want that. I've never wanted that."

Now that was probably the most romantic statement he had ever made to her. Her heart swelled up with happiness. "Ronald Weasley, I promise to never stop nagging you for the rest of my life."

"I'm going to hold you to that, Hermione Granger."

And as his lips gently found hers for the first time in over a year, she knew he meant it — in more ways than one.

#romione #romione fanfic #ron x hermione #harry potter #romione drabble #writing #cheesyficwriter #ask response

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adenei · 4 years ago

Note

Hello! You are a wonderful writer and I love reading your works! Could you do something where Harry realizes the extent of trauma Tom Riddle inflicted on Ginny? Maybe after the war is over, and Ginny and Harry have moved in together, and then Harry comes to his senses?

Hi anon! Thank you so much! Sorry it’s taken so long to get this one to you. I hope you enjoy!

**********

Graduation Gift

It was a seemingly normal day spent out and about in Diagon Alley. The weather was seasonably warm, and Ginny was looking forward to a day out with Harry. She could count the number of times she’d been to the magical shopping district on one hand since turning eleven.

Visiting Diagon Alley wasn’t exactly one of her favorite activities to do, but Harry seemed excited about taking her out, so she’d obliged without pause. Ginny was happy to see that many of the businesses were able to rebuild. The streets were crowded with shoppers bustling along. Children were squealing excitedly at enticing window displays, and some, including Wheeze’s, looked completely full to the brim with people.

Harry was on a mission, hitting each stop on his list with minimal dawdling in between. This was most likely to avoid the crowds and people noticing The Chosen One was amongst them. Ginny didn’t mind, since she was looking forward to a more relaxing afternoon at Grimmauld Place with her boyfriend.

Their last stop was Quality Quidditch Supplies. He’d lured her there under false pretenses, claiming to need a new broom kit. But upon entering the shop, Harry insisted on looking at brooms for her upcoming training season. It was no surprise that Ginny had signed a contract with the Holyhead Harpies—who had scouted her talent at the first match of the season last year—but she was not expecting her boyfriend to insist on buying her a brand new broom.

“Absolutely not!” Ginny admonished.

“Come on, Gin, please? It’s your graduation present,” Harry reasoned.

Ginny shook her head. “It’s too much.”

Harry crossed his arms. “So, you’re just going to join a professional quidditch team with your Comet and expect to keep up in drills and matches?”

“As soon as I’ve earned enough, I’ll buy myself a new broom.”

Harry simply stared at her, willing her to process her words, which admittedly, did sound ridiculous. “I was going to pick one and buy it without consulting you, but what would the fun be in that? If you really want, you can pay me back, but that defeats the purpose of a gift.”

Ginny was used to being self-sufficient when it came to boyfriends. It was still strange sometimes for her to let Harry in, knowing she didn’t have to do everything independently anymore. After an extensive internal struggle, she’d relented. A half hour later, they exited the shop with the newest Firebolt model.

“This is still way too much,” Ginny griped, unwilling to admit that deep down it felt nice to be spoiled by her boyfriend.

“Well, like I said, you can always pay me back,” Harry said. He leaned in to add, “and it doesn’t have to be in galleons.”

Ginny couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her lips as they headed back to the Apparition spot. She almost didn’t notice when they’d passed by Flourish and Blotts. It was ridiculous really, that a bookshop of all places could make her feel this uncomfortable, but nonetheless a prickle of unease spread through her body. Flashes of white-blond hair and a secondhand cauldron flashed through her mind. It was only now that Ginny realized she hadn’t stepped foot in the popular bookstore since her first year.

“Everything alright?” Harry’s voice brought her back to the present.

“What? Oh, yeah. I’m fine!”

Harry glanced back at the shop before casting a wary look towards her. Thankfully, he didn’t press further, and Ginny shoved the thought of the bookstore further from her mind.

Upon returning to Grimmauld Place, Ginny brought her new broom up to Harry’s room for safekeeping with the promise that they could go to the Burrow later to test it out. When she returned to the sitting room, she noticed a small parcel wrapped in vibrant red and gold paper.

“I thought the broom was my gift.” A hint of accusation escaping her voice.

“It is! This isn’t nearly as extravagant, I promise. Go on and open it.”

She could tell he was nervous, and she wasn’t sure why. She hadn’t seen him like this since before they started dating in her fifth year. Or maybe the first time they all had dinner as a family after her parents found out they were officially together.

As Ginny carefully unwrapped the vibrant paper, she heard Harry muttering under his breath.

“I hope you like it. Was Luna’s idea really, but it’s helped me a lot this year. Made me feel like I wasn’t bothering you by sending you too many letters this past year, and I could put all the thoughts of training and missions down without having to relive them as much in my head.”

She slid the paper off to reveal two small books. Both had a dark brown leather cover, and Ginny felt herself go into a cold sweat. For Harry’s sake, she opened the top one, and saw his handwriting on the inside. An introductory letter written to her, no doubt as an explanation of his recent rambling.

She tried to be strong for him. Ginny knew deep down it was such a romantic gesture, and one she honestly would have never expected from Harry. He’d never give her a cursed diary. She gave him a weak smile even as she was quaking with terror on the inside. Her hands moved of their own accord, shifting the books around so the second book was now on top. Against her better judgement, Ginny opened the cover to be greeted by a blank page of parchment.

Suddenly, as if the book became scalding hot, Ginny tossed it out of her hands with a yelp. She drew her legs in, hugging them tightly to her chest as she rocked back and forth on the sofa.

“Ginny!” Harry was by her side in an instant. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

Concern etched on his face. He wrapped his arms around her. She focused on the pressure of his touch as she took deep breaths in and out to help calm herself.

“It’s the journal, isn’t it?” the soft tenor of Harry’s voice grounded her, even as he spoke the truths she’d tried to bury deep inside and mend with avoidance. “I’m sorry, Gin. I didn’t know. I wasn’t thinking. I’ll get rid of it.”

Slowly, Ginny opened her eyes, allowing herself to return to her surroundings. Naturally, she was drawn to the object of her disdain. It was silly to think that just because the war was over and her schooling complete that her first year could officially stay in the past. No, avoidance wasn’t going to work anymore. She had to face her demons, and was relieved to know that Harry hadn’t shied away from her reaction.

“No. I want to keep it,” she told him. “It’s time I work through it all. I shouldn’t be afraid of a journal anymore.”

“It’s understandable, though. You lived with a Horcrux. It possessed you.”

Ginny shuddered. “Don’t remind me.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Ginny looked up at Harry. It was funny how much a person could grow. Harry Potter, the boy who always interalized his emotions, asking her if she wanted to talk about hers. A slight smile grazed the corners of her mouth.

“I do, but not right now. I think I’d rather go have a fly on that new broom and clear my head.”

“Gin—”

“I promise we’ll talk, Harry. I just have a lot I want to sort through first.”

Harry looked as though he was about to argue, but luckily he relented. “Okay. Your mum will probably be excited for the surprise visit. Go get your broom.”

“Thank you.” Ginny untangled her limbs before pulling Harry into a tight hug and planting a kiss on his lips.

It was finally time to heal.

#hinny #harry x ginny #hp post war #tw: trauma

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ickle-ronniekins · 4 years ago

Text

duet | see you soon then

DUET MASTERLIST

NOTE FOR ALL READERS: this is an installment of a series. the masterlist for a catch-up is linked above. this particular chapter is to fall between [im]mature and silky smooth. thanks!

desc: things had been a bit rocky when the twins told you they were leaving hogwarts before graduation. you’d been so hellbent and obsessed on spending time with george that you’d sort of neglected fred. emotions are running high, but the three of you fall into a comfortable routine and suddenly you’re bursting at the seams with happiness. but since it’s finally time for them to leave, you have absolutely no luck in trying to suppress your tears. they’re making their dreams come true, so why is it so damn hard to say goodbye right now?

a/n: yo! sorry its been a while. school has been kicking my ass and also I genuinely had no inspiration to write this chapter. it was actually supposed to look a little different which is what I think was evidently holding me back. but leeann’s the best and has been incredibly patient with me as I worked through my writer’s block and we bounced ideas off of one another. i..... am so sorry for this. full masterlist is linked above, loves.

word count: 3.4k

warning(s): just sadness bc boys are leaving :(

Things had been… tense, to say the least. Your arguments with both of your best mates had caused quite a bit of discomfort between you all. And not to mention that the Easter holidays were rapidly approaching, which only seemed to speed up the pounding in your chest.

You’d been making progress, though, coming around to the idea of finishing school without them. What an incredible opportunity this was for them, wasn’t it? While your feelings of dread and sadness were still very much prominent, you couldn’t help but be bursting at the seams with pride, too.

They were damn brilliant individuals and it was about time more people recognized that, right?

It still didn’t lessen the pain in your heart, though. It only seemed to elevate it. But you supposed, you’d only learn to grow from it.

The three of you had fallen into a somewhat comfortable routine. Spending lots of time with one another -- you’d also been very conscious about how much time you spent chasing after George. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself any further than you already had. Plus, you’d sadly forgotten how lovely it was to be with just Fred -- he was your absolute best mate, after all, and while yes, there had been times when the two of you had very angrily bumped heads, it only made your friendship that much stronger. You owed it to him. You owed it to yourself.

And you’d taken to spending more time with the Gryffindors too, when that ghastly toad look-a-like of a woman wasn’t around. What she didn’t know wouldn’t kill her. They were your friends, too, after all -- Ginny, Ron, Harry, Hermione, Neville -- the lot of them. And by the light of the common room fire reflecting in Fred’s eyes, and the very bright grin George had painted onto his face nearly every evening, you were pretty certain they were genuinely happy to have you there.

“What’s this one?”

“Ah -- an extension of our latest and greatest inventions, Y/N,” Fred beamed, examining his own creation as he twirled it in his fingers, “Wildfire Whizbangs.”

“You mean you’ve created something even bigger than those blasted fireworks you’d let loose in the courtyard a few weeks ago?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you’re about to set the bloody Great Hall on fire -- I’ve got exams coming up, you know.”

George laughed and pulled out yet another wildly vibrant colored whizbang from their trunk. “Can’t make any promises.”

You’d been spending so much time in their common room, in fact, that people had just ended up making you an honorary Gryffindor. You did miss yours, though -- the warmth hues of the yellow lining, the cozy armchairs near the fire with books next to it stacked so high they touched the ceiling, the tiny, potted plants on the windowsill. You were placed in Hufflepuff after all, so it was only normal that you’d miss the coziness of your own spot.

You couldn’t help it, though. You found yourself with your friends until the late hours of the evening, and sometimes you’d ever crash in the girls’ dormitory in Gryffindor tower because it was far too late to even attempt to sneak back down to your own common room, and the boys didn’t want you to risk getting into some type of trouble. Who’d have thought? The Kings of Mischief, worried about you getting into trouble. The irony was wonderfully funny.

You’d even found yourself working less and less on your assignments, just to spend time with them. It was, truthfully, the closest the three of you had been since you’d met. Absolutely nothing could squash your happiness.

Until you realized one evening when you were pulling on your silk pyjamas and thinking about how good things had been, that you had exactly one week left with them. One week. Seven days. Most of which would be spent studying for exams.

Some type of knot shot up into your throat and you found that your eyes had begun to water more so than normal. Sometimes, you couldn’t quite believe the effect this was having on you.

And so you swallowed down your feelings and forced yourself to sleep, hoping that the next day, you wouldn’t think about the limited time you had left with them before they fled school, but only about just how much you enjoyed your time with them.

-- -

“Please don’t cry. If you cry, I’ll cry, and I’m a bloody ugly crier.”

You knew that Fred was doing his best to make you laugh. He always had a particular knack for making you burst out into giggles at the most inappropriate of times. But even so, the mischievous glimmer in his eye and the lopsided grin on his face couldn’t make you laugh. Not this time.

You’d sort of distanced yourself this last week. Not purposefully, mind you, but because there was studying to be done. You had exams, didn’t you? And the boys needed to pack all of their belongings for their adventure into adulthood. It sounded so silly when you thought about it. But it also sent a soul-crushing feeling straight through your body.

You hated crying in front of them. Sure, you were a bit dramatic at times, but you tried your absolute hardest not to break down in front of them if you could help it. But this was different, you reckoned. This was them leaving with a permanence that could not be undone. This was goodbye… for now.

“I -- I’m just --” your voice sounded raspy and weak, like someone was gripping your vocal cords and strangling them. You watched through blurred vision as Fred’s lower lip began to wobble, and he bit down on it to keep you from noticing. But you noticed. Of course you did. How could you not? You knitted your brows together to keep the tears from falling, but your emotions were far too high for anything to work. You searched desperately for the words that were filling up your heart, though were proving very difficult to leave your lips. “I’m.. I’m really…”

And Fred, who found himself sometimes turning to mush around you, let his shoulders collapse as tears welled up in his eyes, too. He couldn’t believe they were really doing this -- really leaving. Hogwarts had been their home away from home for so many years, and you, the second sister he didn’t know he needed.

When he spoke, his voice didn’t have the usual cheeky sound to it, that mischievous tone you grew to know and love so much. It was soft, and tired, and pleading with you to please not be angry. You could hear it in the way that he said, “I know,” before pulling you into his chest. He interwove his fingers in your hair and pressed his lips to your forehead before sucking in a breath. You tugged gently on the drawstring hanging from his sweatshirt. It was hard to stay mad at either of them. You forced your eyes shut and bit down hard on your bottom lip, causing you to suck in another breath due to the pain. You felt your heart snap perfectly in half when you heard his voice shake a bit. “I’m really going to miss you, too.”

That was one of the most intimate moments you’d ever shared with Fred, letting each other cry into one another’s shoulders. The vulnerability hanging in the air between you both was so intense, it almost didn’t seem real. But as quickly as this new side of Fred had appeared, it vanished when he pulled away from you and held onto your shoulders to steady you. He sniffled a bit and tried to nonchalantly wipe away a tear from his eye. “But you’re coming to visit, yeah? First thing after graduation?”

“Of course,” you playfully swatted him with the sleeve of your robe. “Have got to make sure you two don’t find yourselves in any mischief, right?”

Fred threw his head back and laughed. “Great thing about our shop is that mischief is more than welcomed, darling.”

You both continued to laugh through tears, until everything became still and silent between you both. You bit down on your bottom lip again and repeated the address back to him very slowly. “Number 93 Diagon Alley.”

“Number 93 Diagon Alley,” he echoed you. His grin was so large, you began to see traces of that thirteen-year-old boy you’d first met all those long years ago. He was so excited, wasn’t he? You felt a pull at your heart. And you were so excited for them. “I love you, kid. Don’t forget to write, and definitely don’t forget to study. Molly Weasley would be so disappointed.”

He pulled you in for another hug before making his way down the corridor. You folded your arms across your chest and raised an eyebrow. “You? The King of avoiding schoolwork at all costs is actually telling me to study?”

“What can I say?” Fred shrugged his shoulders. Your best mate. Your best mate in the entire world, known for his pranks and laughter and everything in between was pointing a finger at you and telling you to get a jump start on your school work, like he’d done a complete one-eighty. “You just bring out this side of me.”

“I love you, you absolute git.”

“I love you more.”

Your breathing intensified as he vanished down the corridor.

“Wow,” you heard a voice from behind you, “can’t believe you somehow got my brother to tell you to study. What has the world come too?”

When you whirled around to come face to face with George, his face was an exact carbon copy of Fred’s -- but his sparkling eyes and lopsided grin made your insides twist in a way that Fred’s didn’t. All you wanted to do was run up to your dorm and cry, thinking about the entirety of your schooling where you could’ve been wrapped up in his arms if he’d just felt the same way. But that wouldn’t help you in any way. You had to be thankful for what you had.

“It definitely won’t be the same with you two gone.”

You couldn’t help it -- the words escaped you before you could register your own thoughts. You could see George’s expression fill with guilt, something that had been happening more often than not, so you offered him a tremendous grin that split your face in half, despite the tears that were falling generously now. You stuck your hand out to pull him into you. “I hope you know how proud I am of you both.”

He breathed a sigh of relief, took your hand in his and walked toward you. He pulled you into a bone crushing embrace, one you’d definitely feel the effects of a few days from now. He cradled your head in his hand the exact same way Fred did, and also placed a kiss onto your hair, but the way your blood bubbled at his touch was so very different from the way you felt with your best friend.

“I just want to thank you.”

“For what?”

“For.. everything.” George’s voice was raspy. He pulled away from you but didn’t let go. He slid his hands across your shoulders and down your arms before intertwining his fingers with yours. He slowly caressed his thumbs over the tops of your hands as he chose his words carefully. “For being my best friend, for believing in this ridiculous idea, for dealing with my antics. For everything, all of it. I reckon Hogwarts would not have been the same had I not met you in Charms.”

“It was my favorite lesson, you know.”

“Mine, too.”

You forced yourself to continue to smile at him through your tears, because you didn’t want you blubbering like an idiot to be the last thing he’d see before leaving the castle. As if this entire exchange hadn’t been dramatic enough, you were really considering telling him how you felt -- right as he left. You could shout out I love you!, couldn’t you? It would be the perfect time, too, because he’d already be off and you could run up to your dormitory without worrying about having to face him or your own intense feelings! The words were right there, on the tip of your tongue --

“Save a pygmy puff for me, yeah?”

But those were the words that spoke instead.

George raised his eyebrows and held up a finger. “Oh! That reminds me. Have got something for you.” You threaded your eyebrows together in confusion as he reached into his pocket. He very gently pulled out a ribbon, the colour a perfect blend of purple and pink, same as the puffs, with sparkles dancing across it as if it were charmed. Which, knowing George, it probably was. He fiddled with it slightly in his hands before looking up to meet your gaze. “You’ve inspired us. Got a whole line of these things in the works. So I want you to do me a favour.”

Your voice was a whisper. You’d nearly forgotten how to formulate coherent sentences. “What?” you asked him.

He then took a very deep breath and reached out to move your hair. He gently placed the ribbon behind your ears and tied it into a small bow on the top of your head. “When you’re feeling poorly about your exams, or about finishing school, or about anything, because I know you will -- put this on. Think of us. And just remember that we’re only a letter away until graduation, alright?”

As he watched more tears well up in your eyes, he considered telling you the truth: that it had been him this whole time, sending you these letters and gifts. It’d been him since the beginning, he’d just been too afraid to tell you. He wet his lips and watched as you brought your fingers to the ribbon and touched it gently. He was going to do it, it was time. Probably a few years too late, but he couldn’t worry about that now. He was leaving in five bloody minutes, and he had to seize his chance, when the vulnerability was thick and the emotions were high and he wasn’t going to chicken out completely --

But just as he found his confidence, Fred softly called his name from round the bend before disappearing again. You threw your arms around the back of George’s neck and stood on the tips of your toes to hug him. There was no mistaking the sound of your wobbly voice in his ears -- you were crying fully now. “I’m going to miss you.”

If his emotions weren’t sky high, he would’ve noticed just how easily the tears came to the front of his eyes at your simple, five word phrase.

“I’m going to miss you, too.”

He wished it could be yesterday, or the day before. Or last month. Or last year. He wanted to be back in Charms in your third year. He wished he could go back in time, any amount of time, just to have more with you, because this couldn’t possibly be the end. It couldn’t be.

Through sniffles and sobs and the cracks in your voice, he swore he heard you say, “I love you.”

Fire shot through his veins, but bloody hell, he didn’t have time to unload all of that. Fred was calling his name again. “I love you, too.”

George pressed his lips to your hairline and stayed there like that for a few more seconds you wished could last a lifetime. You didn’t even bother trying to hide your tears anymore -- they were cascading down your cheeks, and violent sobs were involuntarily escaping from your overused lungs. Every single ounce of your body hurt due to all of the crying you’d been doing the last couple of days. It felt so stupid and so dramatic and so absolutely awful, because the truth was, it was only a couple of months until you saw them again. Until you saw him again. A few months was nothing.

But the idea of being here without them hurt more than you could begin to fathom.

When he pulled away, you noticed how red and blotchy his cheeks were alongside his bloodshot eyes, his messy hair. But you beamed at him again and squeezed his hand and said, “Congratulations,” and watched him as his fingers let go of yours and he walked toward the other end of the corridor.

“Hey,” you called, thinking of something. George spun around quickly and peered longingly at you. You just needed a few more seconds or so. “How’re you two getting out of here, anyway? You know Umbridge has all the entrances sealed. You think it’s going to work, whatever you two’ve got planned?” There was a sliver of selfishness that hoped it didn’t, but you suppressed it. You were overflowing with pride for your best friends.

And then there he was -- that young boy filled with adventure and reckless abandon, looking at you as if only seeing you for the very first time. His grin deepened when he replied, “Don’t worry -- it’s in typical Weasley fashion.” He stopped in his tracks and placed his hands in his pockets, and peered at you with a type of intense sincerity that made every muscle in your body ache all over again. “I’ll see you soon, then?”

Your lip quivered again. “Yeah,” you replied, willing yourself to believe it. You would. “I’ll see you soon, then.”

You shook your head at him and watched as he disappeared around the bend, but not before that signature wink he loved to offer.

About thirty minutes later, after you’d had a good cry and rinsed the runny mascara off of your cheeks and from underneath your eyes, you heard a bit of yelling from inside the castle. You were sitting in the courtyard basking in the glorious spring weather, forcing yourself to focus on what you needed to study, when a group of students began to huddle near the windows.

Confused, you shut your spellbook and wandered over to where they were gathered, wondering what the bloody hell could be going on inside. Weren’t the fifth years supposed to be taking their OWLs?

And then two red headed figures zoomed out of the castle on their broomsticks, followed by a firework dragon the size of the real dragon Harry had fought just last year, with more sparklers and pyrotechnics behind them brightening up the sky. Students flooded into the courtyard and cheers were nearly shaking the whole entire structure of the castle. You looked around at all of the students, beaming with exuberance, and wondered just how many of the Wildfire Whizbangs had gotten caught in Umbridge’s hair, setting it aflame. You smiled to yourself and began to clap, too.

For as blue as you felt, you were ten times happier for them.

George and Fred were now hovering in the air beneath a very large firework in the shape of a ‘W’. Fred was busy cheering along with the crowd, clearly pleased with the feedback from all of the students -- and even some teachers. Was that Flitwick he spotted below? Had he made his Charms teacher proud?

But George wasn’t cheering -- he was focused. Focused on scanning the crowd, focused on bouncing his eyes from student to student until he found the familiar one he was looking for.

“You alright, Georgie?” Fred called over the roar of the dragon, now swimming through the clouds.

“Yeah,” George replied, though he didn’t fully believe it -- not until he saw you, in the middle of a sea of Ravenclaws, peering up at the two of them with nothing but admiration plastered onto your face. George breathed another sigh of relief and didn’t take his eyes off of you. He couldn’t. “Yeah, I’m alright.”

“To new adventures!” Fred cheered and raised his hands in delight. More students began to scream and cheer and wave to them from the grounds. He proceeded to do a backflip on his broomstick in the air.

When your eyes met his from below, he watched as your smile slowly grew a bit larger and your clapping became more exuberant. He could already count down the bloody days until you were finished with school and walking through the front doors of their shop, a grin on your face so large it could cure diseases! But for now, you had to study, and he had a business to run.

He turned toward his brother, who had never looked more excited or proud in all his years. George stuck out his hand for a high-five as he wobbled slightly on his broom. To Fred, George replied, “To new adventures, mate.”

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annerbhp · 4 years ago

Text

Lucky

- part one - part two - part three - part four -

Part Five

Ginny hasn’t heard a word from Harry since the day he asked her to the party. They’ve bumped into each other occasionally in the halls, but usually going opposite directions and in a rush to get to class.

She would wonder if he’s changed his mind, but he always smiles at her before disappearing off with her brother or Hermione—depending which shift he’s on at the time. So he doesn’t seem to be rethinking it, as far as she can tell.

She’s pushed forward with it all, sending an owl to her mum asking for a set of dress robes. Which Molly had definitely come through on, sending a gorgeous set of dark blue, slightly sparkly robes that are clearly meant to make up for the new broom Ginny wouldn’t let her parents buy for her.

They are easily the most extravagant robes she’s ever owned, and she would wonder if Molly somehow figured out just who her date is somehow, but shoves the thought aside.

“There,” Antonia says, leaning back from her face with a final flick of her wand. “I suppose you’ll do.”

Ginny turns to look at herself in the mirror. Her hair has been pulled half back, the rest hanging long in soft curls around her shoulders. Surely even Fleur would approve. Eyeliner and a golden dust of eye shadow make her eyes seem bigger than normal, a soft blush on her cheeks matching the light pink of her lips.

“Okay?” Antonia says.

“Amazing,” Ginny says. “I hardly look like me.”

Antonia rolls her eyes. “You just mean not wearing a ponytail and covered in sweat and dirt from practice.”

Ginny laughs. “Well, let’s hope my date can actually recognize me, or I might have to go alone.”

“I’m sure Harry will have no problem recognizing you.”

“Ah, but will I survive the scrutiny of being The Chosen One’s date?”

Antonia laughs. “I have faith in your ability to persevere. Now, should we go before our dates give up on us?”

She nods, nerves erupting in her stomach. “I guess so.”

They leave the seventh-year girl’s dorms, climbing up to the common room. There’s quite a few people milling about, some dressed and ready for the party like Hestia and Flora, others just watching the spectacle unfold. Zabini is impeccably dressed with Pansy on his arm, both looking slightly bored, like they are well above all of this, despite how aware they must be of the jealousy of other students without invitations. Pansy will no doubt lord it over anyone she can for the next month at least.

Antonia doesn’t even pause, the two of them going straight for the exit after giving Hestia and Flora waves. Lucas and Harry should be waiting for them there.

Feeling silly for doing it, Ginny still pauses at the door, taking a deep breath before stepping out.

The first person she sees is Lucas, wearing a rather daring shade of aubergine with what looks like copper trim. Her gaze doesn’t linger long enough to find out, because a few steps farther away stands Harry.

He’s is actually here. She tells herself this swell of relief is mostly to have to avoid the humiliation of being stood up so publicly. Yet another awkward aspect of going with Harry is knowing that everyone is watching. She’s been the recipient of more than one snide remark the last week as word finally leaked out about Ginny and Harry going together.

He’s wearing a smart set of dark green robes, his tie slightly askew as if he’s been tugging at it. The smile that spread across her face at first seeing him fades as he continues to stare at her, without speaking, his eyes wide.

“Ladies,” Lucas says, giving them a slightly absurd courtly bow. “You are looking exceptionally beautiful tonight.”

Antonia laughs. “Not as beautiful as you.”

“Yes, well, that would be impossible.”

Harry still hasn’t said anything, eyes sliding over to Lucas and Antonia as if he’s only just noticed them.

Lifting the hem of her robes, Ginny crosses over to Harry. “Hey,” she says, hoping her voice won’t betray her nerves.

“Hey,” he breathes out, smiling at her. “You’re, I mean, that’s a nice—” His eyes dart down to her dress only to immediately lift back to her face as if caught doing something wrong. He tugs at his collar, setting it even more askew.

Lucas looks between them, leaning into Ginny. “I think he’s trying to tell you how beautiful you look.”

Antonia gives him a repressive glance, sliding her hand into the crook of his arm and steering him down the hall.

“What?” Lucas says. “We’d be standing here all night, rate he was going.”

Harry looks comically annoyed and Ginny can’t help but laugh, probably just her nerves looking for any way out, and she finds herself folding her arms in front of her and leaning over in her mirth. “Merlin,” she says, feeling tears prick her eyes. “I’ll ruin my makeup.”

Straightening up, she looks at Harry, who is looking rather sheepish.

“You do look really…” he tries again.

“Nice?” she asks, grinning up at him.

He blows out a breath, seeming happy to laugh at himself. “Yeah.” He flaps a hand. “Floaty.”

She rolls her eyes. “Should we?” She gestures after Antonia and Lucas.

He gives her a faux bow, holding his arm out with exaggerated pretentiousness. She’s still laughing as she slips her hand into the crook of his elbow and follows after Antonia and Lucas.

“So,” Ginny says. “Time to place bets on the most salacious things to happen this evening.”

Harry slides her a look. “You mean like will the vampire forget himself and eat someone at the dinner table?”

She nods. “Or just how ridiculous on a scale of Lockhart-to-Trelawny Slughorn’s outfit will be?”

It turns out the rooms themselves are ostentatious enough to win the award on its own. The whole place has been draped with rich fabrics and hanging fairy lights with house elves wandering through with platters of food. It’s overwhelming and almost a little hard to look at.

“Subtle,” Ginny says, Harry snorting in response.

They no more than step through the door when Slughorn falls upon Harry, fawning over him and his excellent choice of companionship. And then he’s seizing him, pulling him off to introduce him to all of the guests, which seems to include a few members of the Weird Sisters and, yes, an actual vampire.

Harry gives Ginny a panicked look back over his shoulder as Slughorn drags him off, his hand groping for hers, pulling her along. He seems very intent on not losing her, so Ginny does her best to stay by his side through the series of introductions, most of which seem to be specifically aimed at being as unbearable for Harry as possible. She stands with him, her hand still firmly in his until it seems like Harry’s patience has been completely depleted.

She looks over the vampire’s head, ignoring the way he’s been staring at her neck, and waves her hand animatedly.

“Oh, Harry,” she says in a breathless voice, hanging on his arm like she’s completely helpless, “I just have to go see Flora!” She smiles up at the wizards. “You don’t mind, right?”

“Oh, no, no! Of course not!” they say, smiling at her like she’s a vacant child. “Take your escort, my dear.”

“Ah, young love,” Slughorn belts loudly as they make their escape.

“You are a life saver,” Harry mutters, his ears burning red.

“Well, I did promise to save you from Slughorn.”

They bump into Hermione as they make their escape, grabbing a few tasty looking treats on their way.

Hermione nearly yelps as they bump into her, her hair and robes disheveled. “Oh, it’s you!” she says with real relief. Then she looks between them. “You look well together.”

Harry darts Ginny a look before turning back to Hermione. “What’s wrong?”

“Wrong?” Hermione says, pulling her sleeve back into place. “Oh, just Cormac. He’s a bit…persistent.”

“Need me to take care of him for you?” Ginny offers.

Both Harry and Hermione look at her, seeming a bit alarmed.

“No need for that,” Hermione says. “I just need to—oh, no. Here he comes. Have a nice time!” And then she’s gone.

“I don’t know what she was thinking,” Ginny says. Having been on a handful of handsy dates herself, she knows how awful they can be.

“Mostly about getting back at Ron,” Harry says with a sigh.

Ginny shakes her head. “Lovely.”

They start moving through the crowd again, Ginny angling them away from Slughorn as best she can. She only realizes her hand is still firmly held in Harry’s when she’s able to tug him in a new direction when she sees them heading straight for Melinda Bobbin.

“Trust me,” Ginny says in an undertone when he looks at her in question. “That’s the last thing we need tonight.”

They end up tucked away in a corner, almost obscured by thick folds of fabric, happily dissecting the Hufflepuff-Ravenclaw match from the weekend before as they finish off their stash of snacks. Ginny’s team will have to face Ravenclaw right after the holidays.

“Their Keeper is the weak spot, I think,” Harry observes.

Ginny nods. It’ll really be a matter of slowing the game down enough to get their hands on the Quaffle. Her Beaters are going to have step up.

“We’re well matched at Seeker at least,” Ginny says.

“Dunno,” Harry says, sounding unconvinced.

She peers up at him. “You think Cho is that strong?” she asks, only partly wondering if this is some lingering loyalty to the girl.

Harry gives her a strange look, shaking his head. “No. The opposite. After all, I’ve learned not to underestimate Reiko.”

Ginny smiles. “Has she tracked you down and forced you into a Quidditch talk since the last match?”

Harry laughs, not seeming all that put out. “Once or twice.”

Ginny isn’t all that surprised. Once Harry proved that he wasn’t just messing with her, Reiko would no doubt throw off all hesitation at bugging Harry endlessly. “You brought that on yourself, Mr. Altruistic,” she says, pushing at his arm.

He catches his fingers in an attempt to defend himself. “I suppose I did.”

He doesn’t let go of her hand, and she finds she doesn’t mind.

“Thanks for coming with me,” he blurts.

“You were right. This is fun.” More fun than she would have expected.

He smiles, his thumb brushing along the back of her hand and sending an avalanche of goosebumps up her arm. “Good,” he says, voice quiet. “Probably would have been pretty unbearable without you.”

“Oh,” she says, trying to ignore the warmth in her chest. “I have no doubt of your ability to defend yourself.”

“Maybe,” he says, head tilted down towards her.

Their eyes catch and hold, the two of them just looking at each other, and she is suddenly very aware of how close they’re standing, the warmth of his body next to hers.

A peal of laughter nearby has them both jumping apart.

Harry clears his throat, tugging at his poor abused collar. “Uh, why don’t I get you a drink?”

She nods. “Yeah. That’d be nice,” she says, thinking she wouldn’t mind a minute to pull herself together. “But first…” She reaches up, tugging his tie straight, running a hand down to make his lapel lie flat.

“Oh, uh, thanks,” he says, and Ginny feels a little foolish, pulling her hands back. What had possessed her to touch him like that?

She watches him walk off, or escape more likely. But then he sends a smile back her direction as he makes his way to the drinks table, almost running into a miffed-looking Pansy as he does.

Ginny looks away, biting back a laugh. Maybe coming with Harry wasn’t the worst idea after all.

A few moments later, there’s a bit of a to do near the entrance, Ginny craning her neck in time to see Filch dragging Draco in by the scruff. “Caught him trying to sneak into the party,” he says, loud enough for most people to hear.

Draco looks so mortified and pissed off that Ginny almost feels sorry for him, everyone clearly gawking and reveling in his humiliation. Slughorn, for all he clearly finds the Malfoy’s ‘uncollectible’, seems open to showing mercy, but then Snape is there, leading Draco away.

The room is loud with whispers as everyone processes what just happened. Ginny looks around for Harry, but he’s not by the drink table anymore. She frowns, scanning the room, and there he is, heading straight for the exit.

Leaving Ginny on her own.

#i give up #this might as well happen #lucky #hinny #annerbfic

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bush-viper-cutie · 4 years ago

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“Lupin, Black, Snape” || YEAR 3 – Ch.15 (HP au)

Chapter List

<-- Last Chapter Next Chapter -->

Day posted: 8/28/2020

Word count: 3, 251

Relationship: EVENTUAL severus X oc (slow burn)

Rating: E for everyone

Warnings: none

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A/N: This is my first fan fic I’m writing mainly as a way to practice. This is a retelling of the hp books with an inserted character. Although most every character will be written about, this is mostly for the pro snape fandom. Please do not fear, although this is a severus x oc story, it is an incredibly slow burn as I do not intend for them to get together at all until after the final book events. Chapters will be posted twice a week.

This derivative work follows the events of the Harry Potter books by Jk Rowling and is intended as a fun way to practice my writing. Thank you for reading :D

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Heather made her way down to the great hall with everyone else from her common room. She turned a corner and spotted Ron and Hermione next to Harry, just up ahead. She ran over and joined them, searching their hands for any treats like they had promised.

“Oh, sorry! We left them in our common room. We’ll give you some later.”

All she could do was nod at Hermione and not let the disappointment get her down. “It’s ok. What are you guys talking about?”

Ron shook his head. “About how mad Lupin is. Harry told us he drank the potion.”

Heather glared at Harry. “It wasn’t poisoned!”

“Of course not.” Hermione lowered her voice. “He wouldn’t have done it in front of you two…”

Heather groaned.

They crossed the entrance hall and entered the great hall, admiring the decorations like every year. There were giant glittering pumpkins floating over their heads with candles lighting them from the inside. Bats swooped and fluttered above their heads, dodging the orange streamers hung all around.

Heather was too upset to sit next to Draco and Pansy, choosing instead to sit next to some fourth years down the middle of the table. She kept glancing at Harry who kept looking up at Professor Lupin throughout the meal, who was perfectly fine and happily enjoying the feast and talking to Professor Flitwick.

She wanted to ignore Harry and his rude assumptions, but when she caught sight of Professor Snape she saw him glancing over at Professor Lupin over and over again as he ate. Was he waiting for something? Checking on him? Professor Lupin had mentioned the potion was to help him feel better, but Professor Snape wasn’t the type to worry about someone’s health like that…

The feast ended with a performance of how the Bloody Baron and other ghosts died, finishing off with disappearing through tables and walls. Nearly headless Nick came back to hear the applause and Professor Dumbledore excused them to head back to their houses.

She caught up to Harry and rolled her eyes at the looks he was giving her.

“Explain why he kept looking over. Think he was that worried about Professor Lupin’s cold?” Harry crossed his arms as they left the entrance hall.

Heather sighed. “Maybe he actually DOES know him. Maybe they’re friends and he really is concerned for his friend’s wellbeing.”

Ron gave a breathy laugh. “Oh sure, as Snape’s known to do.”

Draco pushed through them and turned around as he walked across the corridor. “The dementors wanted me to tell you they send their love, Potter! They’re asking when you’ll visit!”

Several students around them laughed and Draco held his head up higher as he walked away with Crabbe and Goyle snickering behind him. Heather said goodnight to Ron, Harry, and Hermione and made her way across the castle and down the dungeon stairs and into her common room.

Her excuse for him was weak. She paced the back of the common room, trying to think of an explanation. Sure, he seemed scary and rude and hated most people at the school… But he was a professor… He wouldn’t risk going to Azkaban just for a position he wanted… Besides, wouldn’t he want to poison him after the year had ended, or at the very least first term? He’d still be in charge of teaching potions until Professor Dumbledore had the time to put out ads for potions professors…

She pulled out a random book from the giant towering book case in the back and looked up as the doors opened passed hours. It was none other than Professor Snape himself, looking very preoccupied with his thoughts. His eyes were distant and searching the floor as people gathered around him. His finger was curled and pressed to his lips as people waited for him to say something.

He finally looked up. “Everyone is to follow me to the great hall immediately. You have five minutes to change into your night clothes. Anyone left inside will serve six hours of detention in the potions classrooms with me, scrubbing the bottom of the seventh year cauldrons until they shine.”

He looked at everyone and a shiver ran through the crowd. Everyone left to change without another word. There was hushed whispered in every dorm and throughout the bathrooms about why they had to go to the great hall in their pajamas.

There was a lot of talk about trolls in the dungeons again, dementors checking their dorms, and of Sirius Black. Heather got dressed and went to get her potions guide and wand, tucking them away in her robe pockets. She didn’t really feel like walking around in JUST her pajamas and figured she’d use the robes as, well, robes.

She walked out into the common room and saw Professor Snape still standing where he had been, arms held behind his back as he stared down at the floor in thought. She looked at the line of ready Slytherins forming, all still whispering about what was happening.

She let her curiosity get the better of her and approached Professor Snape, being used to him constantly yelling at her and Harry already made asking him questions less daunting.

“Sir?”

His eyes flickered towards her but he said nothing.

She figured that meant he was listening and went on with the question. “Why are we heading to the great hall? Are we coming back after?”

He stood up straighter and scanned the large group of whispering students. He addressed them all. “The castle is to be searched – and all houses will be sleeping in the great hall tonight. That is all.”

He stared Heather down until she back up into the line. He turned and lead them out and up the main stairs that would spit them out next to the great hall. All the other houses were making their way inside, as confused as everyone else.

She wasn’t sure what she’d heard to make her remember, but a sudden pang of anxiety hit her like a monstrous wave. Was the castle being searched for the missing books? She had started reading the potions one early in the mornings and immediately realized why the Ministry had banned those books. They were very dangerous, especially in the hands of someone like Draco, who loved to talk about poisoning and hexing others who annoyed him… like muggle borns, muggles, and loud first years.

She stood with her house as Professor Dumbledore walked in, talking with several other teachers and sending them on their way with tasks.

He stood behind his podium and waited for everyone to quiet down as Mr. Filch shushed them all next to him. “I will be conducting a search of the castle along with your heads of houses and several other professors.” The large great hall doors closed and everyone jumped but Professor Dumbledore kept going. “For everyone’s safety, you will all be sleeping here, where we can watch over you for the night. There will be teachers on both sides of the doors keeping guard, and any prefects and Head boys and girls who wish to stay up and look after their houses will receive house points. Any… disturbances should be reported immediately to your house ghosts, who will report back to us.”

The ghosts all looked very proud to be of use and looked down at them all with serious faces. Professor Dumbledore waved his wand and all the tables flew to the sides, stacking high, along with all the benches. In their place hundreds of puffy purple sleeping bags appeared on the floor.

Pansy gasped, “We’ll be sleeping on the floor in THOSE?”

Draco kicked one of them and shook his head, looking very disgusted.

“Sleep and have delightful dreams,” Professor Dumbledore said as he closed the doors behind him, leaving the great hall with Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall.

The second the doors closed everyone gathered around the Gryffindors as they excitedly told everyone what had happened. Heather, Ron, Harry, and Hermione had all picked sleeping bags in the back near Neville, Seamus, Dean, Fred, George, Lee, and Ginny.

Ron filled Heather in on what had happened. Sirius Black was in the castle and had destroyed the fat lady’s portrait in his attempt to break into the Gryffindor common room to kill Harry.

Heather gasped and looked at Harry. “No! But-but… How did he get passed the dementors? How could he have gotten in the castle? I can’t believe he really tried get in there and kill you!”

Harry looked as shaken up about it as her. “He must really be mad at me for defeating Voldemort…”

Ron jumped at the mention. “Obviously he’s figured out how to get passed the dementors… Are we really supposed to believe professors like Trelawney’ll keep us safe?”

Hermione shoved Ron’s shoulder. “Stop scaring them! Of course we’re safe here. Professor Dumbledore’s looking out for us. And the dementors aren’t very smart. They’re like angry dogs, really. The professor’s are much harder to get passed.”

Heather nodded and reached out for Harry’s hand. He squeezed back and kicked their sleeping bags closer to the high table where several teachers were pacing around. Everyone was being told to go to sleep so they got in their sleeping bags.

Hermione turned to them. “He’s not still in the castle, do you think?”

Ron made a motion under his sleeping bag. “If Dumbledore didn’t think so we’d be in our beds.”

Hermione shook her head. “No matter… It’ll all get sorted soon.”

Heather appreciated Hermione staying strong for them. It made her feel better, though she wasn’t sure it was enough to let her sleep peacefully. She turned around and listened to others whispering their ideas about how he had gotten in.

“He apparated in, how else?”

“But no one can apparate in… He came in disguised!”

“He didn’t just walk in – He flew!”

Heather felt someone shake her shoulder and turned to face Hermione.

“In ‘Hogwarts: a History’ it is stated very clearly that no one can just apparate in. And there are walls of spells that prevent anyone from entering by stealth. Not to mention that there are dementors EVERYWHERE who see through any disguise and even invisibility cloaks.” Hermione reassured her. “And Filch knows all the secret passages which are also probably sealed anyways.”

The lights went out and everything was dark, except for the twinkling sky above them and the slivery glow of the ghosts gliding above their heads, watching over them. Heather let out a sigh and moved closer to Hermione, feeling better after what she had said.

She could hear Percy shouting from across the great hall, shushing everyone. There was still a low whisper throughout the hall and Heather could only sleep for an hour or two at a time. Waking up every time the great hall doors opened and Percy ran up to the teachers, asking for updates.

Halfway through the night Professor Dumbledore walked back in, making his way to the high table. Percy ran over and asked if Sirius Black had been found.

“I believe he has left the castle. I’ve put up a replacement portrait and tomorrow morning everyone will have access to the tower again. I’ll have Mr. Filch restore the fat lady and she’ll be back in no time.”

“That’s marvelous, Sir.”

The door creaked open again and more footsteps drew near.

“Headmaster.” It was the deep voice of Professor Snape. “All the main floors are searched, with no sign of Black. Filch has rechecked the greenhouses and the dungeons.”

“And all the towers?”

“All rechecked. Still no signs.”

“Very good, Severus. It wouldn’t be like Sirius Black to linger.”

There was a pause.

“Have you any… theory… as to how he got in, Professor?” It seemed like Professor Snape was hinting at something.

“Many,” Professor Dumbledore dismissed his question. “All as unlikely as the last.”

She heard Harry’s sleeping bag jostle.

“And do you remember our conversation, Headmaster? Just before – ah – the beginning of term…” Professor Snape sounded more irritated now.

“I do. Severus.”

“It would appear to be… almost impossible… that anyone – let alone Black – could enter the castle without inside help.” He was almost angry now. “I believe I expressed my concerns when you appointed – ”

“There is not a single person in this castle that would aid Black in entering it.” His tone was deathly serious and ended with a clear indication their conversation was over. “I need to have a talk with the dementors. They wanted to know when the search is complete.”

Percy had still been there during their conversation and finally spoke up again. “Why didn’t the dementors help in the search?”

“So long as I remain Headmaster, no dementors will be crossing the threshold of this castle.”

Several footsteps retreated and the great hall doors creaked open and closed. Heather opened her eyes and turned to see Harry staring in their direction. She moved around and looked up at the high table Professor Snape took his seat lazily with crossed arms and furrowed brows.

The next several days the only thing anyone talked about was Sirius Black. Everyone was brainstorming how he managed to enter, coming up with wildly lunatic ideas, all involving him turning into some sort of plant, stone, or broom that had been brought in.

The only positive thing that had happened after Halloween was that they were now being guarded by most every teacher – and Percy – though Harry more than her. Everywhere they went they always found a teacher lurking not far behind, and Percy didn’t even try to hide it. He stood behind them proudly, with his chest held out for intimidation.

Heather felt much better walking around school, unlike Harry who seemed more and more annoyed as the days went on. As scared as he had been that night, the annoyance of always being watched was getting to him.

They were on their way to lunch one day when Professor McGonagall had called him into her office. They waited outside for him and within minutes he came out fuming and annoyed.

“I almost got banned from Quidditch practice!”

Ron gasped, “No! Why?”

“Because it’s out in the field at night. Now Madam Hooch’ll be looking over the practices.” Harry kicked at a bench angrily. “Have they all forgotten I’ve faced Voldemort three times?”

“Two times, Harry.” Heather rolled her eyes. “And so what? You’re safer now, and that’s all that matters. Not Quidditch.”

They made it into the great hall and Heather went to sit down next to Draco. She had taken a few bites of her food when Professor Snape made his way down to her on his way out.

He stopped just behind her and spoke. “My office after lunch is over.”

She swallowed her bite and watched him exit, robes billowing behind him like waves of solid black.

“What’ve you done now, Potter?” Draco laughed.

“Nothing…” She frowned and wondered what he wanted.

After lunch she made her way down to the dungeons and knocked on his office door. They opened and she pushed them, poking her head in and seeing someone else was there too, sitting across from Professor Snape.

She stepped in and sat down on the other chair and turned to see who else was there. It was Cassius, smirking with his legs crossed. He glanced at her and back at Professor Snape.

“Some teachers fear it may be too dangerous to be letting you practice out in the dark with only your team members,” Professor Snape grinned and looked at Cassius.

Heather moved to the edge of the chair. “So you’ll ask Madam Hooch to oversee practices? Like Professor McGonagall is doing for Harry?”

“Typical, Potter, expecting others to change their schedules around just to suit your needs?” He motioned to Cassius. “Warrington will be taking your place this year.”

“No!” Heather turned to look at Cassius who had on a smug face.

“I will gladly take over, Professor. That is,” he turned to Heather, “Until Black is caught of course. I wouldn’t want to remove you of your fairly earned spot on the team.”

“It’s not my fault Professor Lupin wanted to talk to you!” Heather gripped the arms of her chair, trying to hold back her anger. “I DID earn my spot!”

“Calm your tantrum!” Professor Snape growled. “And I don’t believe ever mentioning it was Lupin who needed to have a word with him that day.”

Heather gulped and Cassius chuckled under his breath.

“Warrington. You may go. I have another matter to discuss with Potter.”

Cassius stood and looked down at her triumphantly before leaving Professor Snape’s office.

She crossed her arms and refused to look at him, leaning back in her seat. She stared at the edge of the desk as if she could make it combust instantly.

“Professor McGonagall thinks it wise to inform you about Sirius Black.” Professor Snape interlaced his fingers and placed them on the desk. “He – ”

She didn’t want to hear anymore. “Yes. I know. He’s after us – or Harry – because he defeated Voldemort.”

He leaned back, shocked, at the mention of Voldemort’s name. “I see… And are you aware of why he is regarded as incredibly dangerous?”

Heather nodded. “He killed lots of muggles and a wizard on the day of his capture. We heard everything about him already from Mr. Weasley.”

Professor Snape frowned. “Snooping, no doubt.”

Her face went red and she looked away again.

“Very well. Then that is all. Should I – or Warrington – see you on that field, you will serve detention for the rest of the year in the potions classrooms, cleaning the floors and cauldrons during every break. Do I make myself clear?”

She nodded. “May I leave now – Sir?”

Professor Snape nodded and she stood. Making her way out and trying very hard not to slam the door behind her. She stormed into her common room and found Draco writing an essay before his next class in one of the back desks.

She walked up to him, arms still crossed. “Professor Snape took me off the team. Warrington’s taken my place.”

Draco leaned back. “But Flint – ”

“It doesn’t matter. He says it’s for my ‘safety’ but Harry gets Madam Hooch to oversee practice. He’s just getting back at me because he thinks I had something to do with Professor Lupin talking to Warrington!”

Draco thought a moment. “So get that fool to tell Professor Snape that. We’ve been practicing our old and new plays with you; if Warrington’s put in then he’d have to catch up which would slow us all down.”

Heather scoffed, “Is that all you care about? Getting slowed down?”

Draco thought some more and nodded, “Yeah. Either way we’re winning the Quidditch cup again.”

She twisted her mouth and rolled her eyes at him, taking a seat on a cushion by the bright green fire. Surprisingly he had a good idea. Surely Professor Lupin would help her by explaining to Professor Snape that she had nothing to do with that. If he could help her, then she’d make him her favorite teacher again. She smiled and picked up her bag, thinking about when the best time to talk to Professor Lupin was. She’d talk to him in his office and he’d be as glad to help her as he had been last time.

She smiled and left her common room.

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#harry potter #heather potter #pro snape #severus snape x oc #severus x oc #snape x oc #severus snape x reader #severus x reader #snape x reader #snape fanfic #snape fanfiction #snape fan fiction #fanfic #fanfiction #fan fiction

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hillnerd · 5 years ago

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For the ask game! Harry Potter: 1, 9, 10, 13, 15

1 Their physical weak spots -I don’t particularly know why, but I picture a slightly older Harry having a dodgy hip or knee when he’s older. He’s also a guy who suffers from tension headaches.

9 Humiliating memoriesPoor fellow has quite a few! With the Dursleys I think he suffered humiliation on the regular. He has all these moments where he was shamed, make to look ridiculous etc that really were hard to bare for a young boy. At school he had a fair few ones too- which we saw- as he gets older there are less- but when you have so many eyes on you you’re bound to have your silliest moments become a bit humiliating as they’re splashed in tabloids and people have a rumor mill churning about you.

10 Fears/phobiasVery small spaces when he is actually trapped/locked in. Losing those he loves because of who he is. Not being able to perform his duties properly (be it as a father or husband, friend, or Auror- the more peace he has in his life the more I think anxieties about himself come out that he hadn’t had time to dwell on when in the rigorous and highly scheduled school years. That’s CPTSD for ya. You are great during a crisis, for the most part- but when things are fine? Oh you gotta make some trouble for yourself mentally then because your brain simply doesn’t know how to cope with true peace for long stretches.)

13 What gets them flusteredBeing asked to do very public speaking on the fly at something important (he usually rises to the occasion, but when he’s asked he gets overwhelmed a bit.) Being flirted with HARD by Ginny when her family/brothers are nearby. Being told how much he means to someone gets him tonguetied for a while there- he finally learns to accept that as part of his life- but it’s simply not something he’s used to and makes him flustered until like his mid twenties.

15 What it takes to make them cryHe’s not one to sob. He is more the quiet tears running down his face- and he doesn’t even realize he’s crying usually when he does. Deep trauma/mourning mixed with compassionate comforting always makes the tears flow hard. Extreme overwhelmed gratitude- he definitely cries when he becomes a dad (all three times.) Family fluff makes him get tears in his eyes. He gets teary eyed when having extreme ptsd attacks

ASK- Send me a character + a number and I’ll tell you my headcanons

#sybill-the-seer

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fanficimagery · 6 years ago

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Imagine that during your first year of Hogwarts, you ended up befriending the Weasley twins on the train. Then being sorted into Slytherin complicated things and throughout the years it was nothing but heartbreak as the twins refused to acknowledge you in public. Your friendship with them is hot and cold, and after taking a break from them you realize you'll do anything to make them realize you're all in no matter what anyone thinks.

Author's Note: This takes place as if Voldemort didn't exist. However, there are still blood and house prejudices.

GIF not mine. I tried to track down the source, but it was never found. If yours and you want and/or it removed, please let me know.

Gen Fic X Reader (w/ a hint of Fred X Reader | George X Reader)

Going into your Seventh year at Hogwarts, you are more than prepared to start talking to Fred and George again after having cooled off over the summer. The twins had been your first friends, but things were suddenly complicated when you were sorted into Slytherin and they into Gryffindor. And now that you're older you could look back and laugh at the antics of your behavior when you were children.

Fred and George pranked and hexed yourself and your house mates, but you gave as good as you got. Nothing was ever too cruel and if it ever toed the line you had no problem berating the two lions. The twins were also your first crushes, but as you got older the twins were careful about where you were seen together or if you were seen together at all. And while that should have hurt your feelings (it did, but you were good at masking it) you couldn't help but to continue seeking out their companionship.

George had been your first kiss, Fred your first date, and the twins were the ones to not-so-subtly drop hints about a triad relationship when you found yourself troubled over which twin you were fond of more. But the older you got, the more braver and nastier the other females of Gryffindor house got. Not one lioness wanted to see one of their own getting too friendly with a snake, and they had no problem insulting and hexing you to make their point.

The twins, after seeing what you were put through, finally decided to distance themselves. They were still friendly when on their own, but when surrounded by other Gryffindors you were just another snake who wasn't quite up to their standards.

And that- that hurt. But what really hurt the most was last year during the Triwizard tournament. When the Yule Ball was announced you had been so excited, only to find out that the twins has asked Angelina Johnson and Marietta Edgecomb to escort them. You tried to not let it get to you, but the girls were far too smug whenever in your presence and it hurt when the twins didn't bother to reign them in. Viktor Krum, however, had taken a fancy to you and asked for you to escort him. You accepted, but not before clarifying that it would be a strictly platonic date. He understood and happily twirled you around the dance floor. Fred and George didn't like it one bit, and had no problem voicing their anger in regards to your date.

It was highly unfair of them and you even told them so, but they wouldn't hear of it. So when they played a particularly nasty prank on the Durmstrang champion that not only humiliated him but you as well, you let the twins have it and told them to never speak to you again. For the rest of the school year they felt quite justified over their actions, but your absence from their lives started to wane on them. And if you were quite honest with yourself, you missed them terribly by the time it was time to go home for the summer.

"You know they're in love with you, right?" You startle at the voice which has knocked you from your thoughts, you then eyeing a too smug Ginny Weasley as she enters your empty compartment on the train. "They spent all summer moping about the Burrow and mum nearly went mental. When I told her it was a girl problem, she nearly sent you a howler."

Your eyes widen. "But-"

The redhead grins as she settles in the seat across from you. "Don't worry about it. I told her what was going on and what gits Fred and George had been. She was quite cross with them, to be honest. Said she raised her boys to be better than that and to not care about what house someone was sorted in to."

"I guess Ron didn't get that memo," you lamely joke as you slowly relax back in your seat.

"Ron's a prat."

You chuckle softly as you offer her a shrug, not wanting to further bad mouth her brother. Then turning rather somber very quickly, you sigh, "What am I going to do, little red?"

"Talk to them. They really miss you."

"And I miss them, but.." You trail off, gulping the sudden lump in your throat back down. "I liked them too, you know? Like.. really, really liked them. Both of them." Ginny's eyes widen at your honesty, her eyes almost sparkling. "But I was already a dirty half-blood to most of the school's population, I wasn't about to become their dirty little secret as well when they suggested a triad."

Ginny leans forward and grabs your hand, she squeezing it in comfort. "Whatever's meant to happen will happen. Don't give up on them."

She's so confident in her words that you can't help smile genuinely at her. "When'd you get so smart?"

"Around the same time I overheard you giving Hermione a similar talk when Ron became dense about girls."

"Ahh," you muse. Ginny chuckles and the rest of your time is interrupted when the Prefects start making their rounds to advise everyone to start putting on their robes. As Ginny gets up to leave, you call out one last time. "Same rules from First year still apply. You have any trouble with the Slytherins, come to me."

"Got it. Thanks, Y/N."

As school starts, the twins are apparently ready to start talking with you again. Their flirtation has been taken to a whole new level and you find yourself blushing more than usual. They've even become rather more bold with their touches and you can't help the feelings that reignite. But on the first Hogsmeade trip when you're out with some friends, you spot Fred and George out on dates and it adds yet another crack to your already splintered heart.

But your last year seems to have a bright light at the end of the tunnel when Headmaster Dumbledore informs the school that they're going to have what the muggles call a Talent Show. The snobby Purebloods are disgusted with the idea, but everyone else is quite excited to see what their fellow students are capable of, especially when it's also stated that families will be invited to the end of the year festivities.

You're more than prepared to sit back and watch the show at the end of the year, but the more your.. whatever you have going on with the twins becomes strained yet again, you recruit a muggleborn Hufflepuff to help you out with a song of your choosing. No one knows what you plan on doing and the friendly 'Puff helps keep it a secret.

Parents are allowed to start arriving at Hogwarts the day before the Talent Show as to not clog up the floo network, so you're not surprised to see more adults than usual walking about. The castle is rather busy, so it's also no surprise you find yourself bumping into a few individuals.

Glancing up you realize you've ran into adults and the apology is on the tip of your tongue. But there's a scoff of disgust, a mumbled comment about snakes being snakes, and you carefully bring your shield down. Then looking towards the redheaded woman, you bow your head in apology. "Apologies, ma'am. It seems my head is in the clouds this morning."

She seems surprised, but a smile quickly blooms. "It's quite alright. I was a bit busy myself scolding my husband and his best friend."

Glancing at the two men, you quickly catalog that the bespectacled man seems rather familiar but the other- the other dark haired, silver eyed individual can only be a Black.

"Oi! Y/L/N! You accosting my mum?"

You tense, the three individuals in front of you look suddenly wary, but when you look towards the speaker you grin. As the tension slowly leaves your shoulders, you shrug. "What can I say, HJ? You know I have a weakness for redheads." Then looking back at the apparent Mrs. Potter, you wink at her which sends Mr. Potter and Mr. Black into a fit of surprised laughter.

Harry Potter strolls up to you, rolling his eyes. "Yes, the whole school knows you have a weakness for redheads. Especially twin-"

"Not. Another. Word." You narrow your eyes, pointing a finger at him threateningly. "Unless you want dear 'ol mum to learn about the incident on the pitch from last year."

Harry suddenly clams up, he shifting nervously as his father chortles and Mr. Black muses about what exactly happened on the pitch. "You wouldn't."

"Uh hello. Slytherin," you grin while pointing at your face.

"Oh, sweetheart, I had you pegged all wrong." An arm falls around your shoulders and you glance up at the dark haired man that was with Harry's parents. "Sirius Black. Harry's godfather and ex-Gryffindor."

"Ah. So that's why you made those snake comments." He takes a moment to look a bit apologetic, especially when Harry groans, but you shrug it off. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Black. I'm Y/N. And don't worry about your earlier misstep. It's nothing I haven't heard before."

"Y/N is one of the few good ones," Harry tells his family. "Half-blood who has a majority of the purebloods terrified of her."

"As it should be," you smirk.

"Lily Potter," his mother then introduces herself with a faint chuckle. "And my husband James," she says. "It's nice to see a Slytherin and Gryffindor getting along for once."

"Only a few select Gryffindors. A majority of them still hate me," you kindly correct. Then giving your attention back to Harry, you ask, "So why are your parents here? You're not performing, are you HJ?"

"Merlin no," he chuckles. "This is just the first year Hogwarts has done something like this. It was open to all the parents whether or not their son or daughter were performing."

"Ahh.."

"What about you? Are you performing?"

You grin. "Actually, I am. Headmaster Dumbledore asked me to open the show with a song and then I'm singing a duet towards the end."

"Really? I've heard you sing a couple of times. You're really good."

"Thank you. Unfortunately for Dumbledore, I decided to use this as my platform to- how do the muggles say?- go big or go home?"

Sirius and Lily snort, and Harry groans. "Oh no. What are you doing?"

"I'm going to sing a sad song for two idiot boys. I won't single them out, but if people have been paying attention for the passed several years then they'll know who I'm speaking to. But my second song, oh you're going to love it. It's a lot more upbeat and I will single them out then."

"I feel like I should feel bad for Fred and George, but I'm highly intrigued. I can't wait for tomorrow."

"You and me both, HJ." Grinning, you then meet each individual adult's gaze before taking your leave. "It was nice to meet you all. Please don't laugh when I make a fool of myself tomorrow."

The evening of the talent show you're a little nervous. You had practiced the night before in the Come and Go Room with Ginny, Hermione, and Luna Lovegood as your audience, and actually made two of the three girls tear up. But now, as Headmaster Dumbledore addresses the Great Hall of what to expect throughout the night, it's very real.

Peeking into the Hall, you notice that the house tables have been divided and pushed two to each side. The Head's table and Headmaster's podium still sit where they always have, but straight down the middle of the hall is a raised platform that runs the length from the back of the hall to the front. And though you can't see it with the naked eye, you know there's a magical barrier to prevent any curses or hexes being cast at the performers.

"So without further ado, Y/N Y/L/N will start this evening off by serenading a gentlewizard.. or two."

"Bloody hell he is not subtle at all. How did he even know?" Those performing after you all snicker and you take a deep breath as you enter the Great Hall.

There's a decent amount of applause at your appearance and you take the offered hand from a fellow student as you ascend the steps onto the platform. Several wizards who had learned the music to every song being sung in the show take their place along the platform, instruments in hand or settling behind a set of drums or piano that have already been set up. The moment you set foot on the platform, a sonorous charm envelops you so there's no use of a muggle microphone.

You nod at the pianist and tuck your hands into the back pockets of your jeans as you saunter down the middle of the platform when a familiar melody fills the air.

"Mercy," you sing, eyes closing. "Why you gotta show up lookin' so good just to hurt me? Why you wanna stop this whole damn world from turning? Mercy. Why you hanging on so tight if this ain't working? Why you wanna stop this flame if it's still burning? 'Cause it's still burning."

Stopping in the middle of the platform, you face the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor side of the room, and look towards the twins. You know if you meet their gaze head on you'll only end up crying, so you keep your gaze above their heads and belt out the lyrics that broke your heart when you first heard them. "So if you're gonna break my heart, just break it. And if you're gonna take your shot, then take it. Take it. If you made up your mind, then make it. Make this fast. If you ever loved me.. have mercy."

As the melody plays on, you fall silent and chance a look at Fred and George. They're hunched over in their seats, expressions solemn and guilty-like. But before you can turn around to make your way to the other side of the platform, someone in Harry's group wolf whistles and there's a brief smattering of applause and muffled laughter which causes you to smile.

You sing the rest of the song while keeping your back to the twins and are pleasantly surprised at the amount of applause when you're done. Then bowing slightly to both sides of the room and to the Head's table, you subtly wipe your tears away and make your way off the platform to take a seat in the very back of the hall.

Other students show off their own singing abilities, as well as their dancing skills, transfiguration skills, and dueling abilities in which colorful explosions and sparkles happen around the target should they be hit. One brave soul even tried their hand at comedy and managed to have the hall in a fit of giggles over the incidents they brought up that had happened over the years.

The entire time everyone is performing, you can't help but let your gaze travel to two nearly identical faces. And the entire time you look at them, they're looking back and then talking quietly to one another.

You're so caught up in the latest performance that you actually startle when someone taps your shoulder. Turning around, you smile at Trevor- a Seventh year, muggleborn Hufflepuff who readily agreed to help you sing a song- who's crouched behind your seat. "You ready?" He asks. "We're up next."

"Oh. Yeah."

The two of you sneak back out of the hall to wait outside and soon enough Headmaster Dumbledore is speaking again as he introduces the next act. "Students, it pleases me greatly that this evening has been a smash with you." Several students whistle and cheer. "And I greatly appreciate the brave students who've decided to share their talents." More applause erupts. "But before our fun comes to an end, please give another round of applause for out last act- Trevor Langdon and friend."

You grin as only Trevor enters the hall and then smile widely as the melody of your chosen song starts and Trevor's voice resonates around the room. "Baby, lay on back and relax. Kick your pretty feet up on my dash.." His voice is far deeper when singing than it is when he speaks, so you chuckle as you see many starstruck, awed expressions in the crowd.

You hum along to his part of the song, laughing as he plays the crowd and singles out a few females and winks at them as he sings up and down the platform. With the spotlight on him, you take the chance to walk up to the platform where it's dark and ascend the stairs as your part comes up. Then when the spotlight shines on you, you grin as you sing and make your way towards where the twins are seated.

"I don't mean to be so uptight, but my heart's been hurt a couple times by a couple guys that didn't treat me right. I ain't gon' lie, ain't gonna lie." Stopping before the twins, you meet their gaze head on and raise an eyebrow at them. "'Cause I'm tired of the fake love. Show me what you're made of. Boys, make me believe.."

Trevor slides up from behind you, smirking. "But hold up, girl, don't you know you're beautiful? And it's easy to see."

Laughing, you manage to sing the next words with Trevor, shooting the twins one last look. "If it's meant to be, it'll be, it'll be. Baby, just let it be."

The entire talent show ends up being a success and more food had been offered after the hall was sorted back to it's original state. While half of the student population opted to head back to their common rooms, the rest lingered about with family and friends before curfew neared.

"Kitten, those performances were marvelous," Sirius muses, his arm slung around your shoulder. Somehow you found yourself adopted into the group that consisted of Harry's family when they found out your father hadn't shown because your mum was a muggle and he wouldn't show up without her. "If those boys of Molly don't get heads out of their arses-"

You laugh, elbowing him in the side lightly. "It's hard being a teenager, Mr. Black. I was as scared as they were, but we're graduating soon. I no longer care what anyone thinks and I'm not ashamed to be seen with them. Now it's time to see if they think I'm worth the risk as well."

"Well we're about to find out," Harry snickers. "Here they come."

Sirius only has enough time to nudge you forward before Fred- he was the more bolder twin after all- strides right up to you and catches your face between his hands before roughly pressing his lips to yours. Wolf whistles erupt around the hall and your eyes close as you return the kiss with fervor. But before you can really grab onto him, hands suddenly gripping your hips tug you from Fred and turn you around. George is sheepishly smiling down at you before he too presses his lips to yours, his kiss a little less rougher than his twin’s.

The hall goes eerily quiet, but the only thing you're focused on is George's tongue tracing the seam of your lips.

"Stupid bint." Though the words are muttered, they ring loud in the hushed hall.

George tenses before releasing you and your eyes flutter open. Your gaze then falls on the only two girls walking just as someone else says, "Trollop."

The group you're surrounded by seem to all puff up in righteous anger, but then the girls are both shrieking as miniature bats transformed out of their own snot starts to attack them. As they leave the hall screaming, you turn back towards your group and single out Ginny- the little witch who's standing there with her hip cocked to the side, arms crossed over her chest and wand sticking out by the crook of her elbow.

"What?" She feigns innocence. "They deserved it."

"Blimey," Sirius mumbles. "She definitely inherited her mum's temper."

Snorting, the rest of the group finally relax as they chuckle and you wrap your arms low around George's waist while snuggling into his chest. "So this is it, yeah?" You ask. "No more running away?"

"No more," George's answer rumbles through his chest as he settles his chin atop your head.

"This is us taking our shot," Fred muses. "You know, like you sang about us doing?"

"Not gonna break my heart, Weasley?"

"Definitely not. You're stuck with us, Y/L/N."

You roll your eyes as you release George, then snuggling up to Fred who's all too happy to accept your embrace. "'Bout bloody time."

Listen to these songs: Mercy by Brett Young and Meant To Be by Bebe Rexha ft. Florida Georgia Line.

#fanficimagery #george weasley x reader #fred weasley x reader #fred x reader #george x reader #hp gen fic x reader #fred weasley imagine #george weasley imagine #weasley twins imagine #harry potter imagine #hp imagine #fred weasley #george weasley #imagine #harry potter #sirius black #lily potter #james potter #ginny weasley

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mariposalass · 5 years ago

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Bonding Over Tree Decorating (Decorating)

Summary: Christmas is fast approaching and decorating for the season is among the first things on people’s Christmas to-do list, but for Mari and her adopted siblings, it was among the things they didn’t got to do it together as siblings until after Harry’s Deathly Hallows misadventures...

Notes: Day 1 for @silentlyfangirlingselfshipper’s A Very Shippy Christmas event, theme is decorating. The F/Os featured here are obviously my adopted siblings Harry and Kairi. I have an idea of how it felt like having him around than just him sending gifts letters to us for the first time, and this is going to be a tad angsty and yet overwhelmed by happy memories. Also, I just realize that I end up having to deal with 2 prompts involving Christmas trees! Whoops, I hope you don’t mind this twice the tree fest from me, Browen.

Tags: a very shippy Christmas, Phoenix Wiz, Princess of Light, Christmas decorating, mild angst, backstory time, adopted siblings, July Babies, passing mention of child abuse, crossovers, fluff overload

It felt so weird having Kuya Harry with us for Christmas this time. Don’t know why, but the fact he had to be stuck in Hogwarts for 2 years and then went on Horcrux hunting while me and Kai are in Daly City nearly felt like a common deal for us. Yet we are here, finally together as a family in one place for Christmas, it’s been months since he had disowned his canon realm in the UK and breaking up with Ginny and the pain he felt still linger for months.

When we first became us 3 July Babies, one of the first things he revealed to us was that he never got to enjoy major holidays that often to due to his rough upbringing under his birth relatives, the Dursleys, and Christmas at Hogwarts was often very special to him. I’m honestly shocked by how badly treated he was in said relatives’ hands yet he felt more welcomed at a boarding school stuffed inside a castle, however it became more obvious that he was slowly distancing himself from the nostalgia he had for the school and the wizarding community in the UK as his letters can attest. One of the letters from his fifth year mentioned how splendidly decorated Hogwarts gets during Christmas yet he couldn’t feel confidant in decorating for the holidays to save his life. Back then, I will admit that I kinda felt jealous of Harry having to see such seasonal glory in an old castle like Hogwarts then.

Somehow, this could explain why our parents (my own parents, his and Kairi’s forever parents) thought of having us to spend time in helping them to decorate our old home for the holidays that cold December day. Dad pulled out boxes marked for Christmas decor from storage onto the family room for us to look into and begin our not so little task of unboxing Christmas decoration and the decorating afterwards. Harry was under the weather then, having to deal with a stuffy nose and going through the boxes while sneezing at random intervals.

“AHH-CHOOO!!!” he sneezed off for what felt like the 15th time.

“Are you okay over there, big brother?” Kairi asked him as Dad brought forth the last box of decorations.

“Not so much,” he groaned in response, wiping his nose down and with a speech that felt nauseated.

“It’s so great to have all 3 of you in one place,” Mom smiled as she helped Dad in opening the boxes, “I didn’t think that we would have you 3 being with each other, sharing the holiday fun until now.”

“I could blame the distance and weird circumstances Harry had to deal with for the separation,” I shrugged back.

“Honey, that is not a good thing to blame what happened in the past for your brother’s rough journey before he returned home: there is nothing we could to change it even if we wanted to,” Mom scolded before instructing me and my siblings to help Dad in unpacking more of the decorations and the realistic faux tree from the boxes.

Unboxing the storage and old cardboard boxes had old decorations the Tan family have for many years since moving to California: ornaments of various shapes and styles, strings of lights, garlands, small figurines, and other assorted items. It’s a hodge podge mess of colors, materials, and textures, but there were part of the family regardless. This was before we all had transitioned to pre-lit Christmas trees, hence the struggles of untangling the string lights back in those days. We had a bit of trouble with those lights giving us a hard time to control with, our parents had to tell us not to be on a rush in untangling them (which explained why we were giving ourselves a hard time, along with Harry’s nervousness at the time), so we carefully untangled them as our parents set up the tree far away from the fireplace.

Dad and Mom soon focused their attention on setting up the Nativity set near the entry way in a glass enclosure so no one would accidentally damaged it as they arrive and decorating the outdoors while we kids were responsible for the tree decorating, to be fair, we were a little stumped then when the task fell onto us, little did we knew that it would be one of our favorite things to do on Christmas. The 3 of us first had a fight over which to put on the tree first: the lights, the garlands, the ornaments? Man, it nearly got messy if we didn’t get on a hold on ourselves and stop yelling at each other, lest we want to face the wrath of our otherwise loving parents.

As we began to adjust and spun the string lights, I noticed tears coming from Kuya’s eyes, it didn’t look like ones he shed in moments after having nightmares or whenever he got sad, they were made of happiness. Me and Kairi were completely confused by the situation, still we went back at it and, once the lights were in place, we shifted our task to messing around with the garlands and placing ornaments onto the branches. While we were decorating the tree, we were enjoying ourselves as we talked about what was our day like and shared stories, laughter and chattering filled the room as we slowly filled the tree up with mismatched decorations. And oh yeah, he also has to deal with me and Kairi teasing him over the colds and him & Issa being now officially a couple to no end. By the time our parents returned from the Nativity scene building, they were surprised to see that we finished our chore pretty fast (though it took around 15 minutes for us to have it done). But before Dad could light up the tree, we know there was something missing on that tree: something on the top of the tree.

That’s when we spotted a square box holding a gold sparkly star topper that we haven’t opened up yet, and I do know why: we nearly forgot it throughout the decorating session, yikes! So Dad opened the topper’s box, took it out of the plastic holder, and approached Harry, handing it over to him while he spoke, “Harry, son. I know that we didn’t get to see you a lot during this time of the year for the last 3 years and that the your previous upbringing prevented you from having some holiday spirit and love with your old folks. Still, you, along with your sisters, mean so much to us and the family: we love and treat each of you the same with the same love and care without any favorites, because no person on Earth should be deprived of having love and family during the holidays, regardless of what happened before. So I would like to ask you to put the star topper onto the tree top this year.”

“Really? You, you really mean it, D-d-d-Dad?!?” he began to stuttered in shock upon hearing those words, still sounding nasally from the colds and not sure if he could sneeze again like he did earlier.

“Yes, Harry, I do mean it,” he smiled back in response, giving him a soft nudge towards the ladder next to the tree, “Go ahead, we’re here for you. If ever you did slip and fall off the ladder for whatever reason, your Mom and I will be there to cushion your fall.”

Nerves were shaking and his smile betrayed in anxiety, but my big brother bravely took to the ladder, carefully climbing them up with the star topper on hand before slipping it onto the tree top with hardly a problem. We watched in awe as it happened and there was a great sense of pride from all of us at that moment, he felt the same as well. As he got down from the ladders, both me and Kairi rushed over to him and hugged him tightly as we could. Our parents watched on with happy tears from their eyes as we had this moment.

Now it has been years since then and tree decorating is a cherished part of our lives. As soon as we remove the Thanksgiving decor in favor of the Christmas ones, we often share a lot of talk and stories as we always do nowadays and with friends as well. We had changed out most of decorations as we moved into our current place a few years ago, allowing our parents and grandparents to keep them for their own use, but that gold glitter star topper remained a part of our Christmas traditions. As we finish unboxing the decorations from their boxy caves every early December or late November (depending on the schedule), we also have to make sure that the star topper is out of the box and take it out of the plastic holder too so we won’t forget about it.

Just earlier this afternoon as we began to wrap up in the tree decorating, Harry decided to pass the topper portion to me, placing the star topper onto my hand, and, when I asked him why me this time, he replied that he was thinking about that one Christmas memory & how much our family & the fam bunch mean so much to him these days, and he felt that it was now my turn to do it as well. He didn’t forgot about the ladder either and he reassured me if I somehow fall out off the ladder, he and Philip will be there to catch me, breaking my fall softly. I gave him a weak smile, thinking that he might be nuts, before I climbed up the ladder and placed the star topper onto the tree top. Just like what happened 10 years ago, everyone cheered for me as I got down the ladder and was greeted with my siblings, my sister-in-law, and dear Philip’s warm hug, and it was overwhelmingly sweet: I couldn’t be any prouder.

Maybe one day we might pass this down onto our future children someday? For now, we all enjoy sharing the moment of decorating the Christmas tree.

The End

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