#I was thinking about how viktor would not admit to finding it handsome. At least not before teasing him first | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aidanchaser · 4 years ago

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Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Everyone Lives AU

Table of Contents beta'd by @ageofzero @magic713m @ccboomer @aubsenroute @somebodyswatson

Chapter Eight The Wedding Reception

Ginny did not hear much of Bill and Fleur’s vows. The ceremony was lovely, really, and Fleur looked stunning, of course. Her beauty was so radiant that it made Bill, with his scars and all, more handsome just for standing beside her. Fleur was dressed in a silvery white gown and Ginny and Gabrielle in gold, and there were Flutterby bushes and golden balloons — all of it was absolutely wonderful, but by the time Bill and Fleur exchanged their first married kiss, all Ginny could think of was how much she would like to sit down.

Despite the painful pressure on her toes, she stood beside Gabrielle and Charlie as the wedding guests came to offer their congratulations and a photographer snapped shots of the wedding party. Charlie ran a hand through his short hair, probably missing all of the inches Molly had cut off last night just as much as Ginny was missing her trainers. Gabrielle fidgeted discreetly with the small bouquet, better poised than Ginny but probably just as eager to be done standing in front of a crowd.

Still, Ginny smiled as a dozen Weasley relatives paraded by and wished Bill and Fleur well. There were half as many Delacours, all with the grace and charm that Fleur, her mother, and sister shared, and all clearly descended from the same Veela grandmother.

Hagrid and Madame Maxime came to give their well-wishes, too. Hagrid wiped tears from his eyes after greeting the happy couple, and he stopped to shake Charlie’s hand.

“How’s Norbert?” he asked.

Charlie grinned. “She’s Norberta, and she’s vicious. She’s doing just fine on her own.”

Madame Maxime said something in French to Gabrielle, and Ginny tried not to look bored as she scanned the line of well-wishers. Xenophilius Lovegood’s bright yellow robes stood out like the first bloom after a frost. She did not see Luna nearby, but she did see the Potters, the Lupins, and the Longbottoms clustered together — with Sirius Black, of course.

She met Harry's eyes and straightened her posture. She thoroughly enjoyed the way his ears darkened as he looked at her. Great-Aunt Muriel may have complained about the cut of Ginny’s dress, but Ginny had no complaints, and she didn’t think Harry did either.

Her dad had suggested that the Potters disguise themselves for the wedding, but in the end, the Potters had decided that it wasn’t necessary. It would be obvious who they really were unless they distanced their false appearances from everyone they knew, and in that case, Lily had pointed out, why attend a wedding at all. Ginny was glad for it, because it meant she could kiss Harry openly.

“You look stunning,” he said, as his parents congratulated Bill and Fleur.

She grinned, and for a moment, forgot about her shoes. “Thanks. You look nice too.”

Harry looked down at his robes. Apart from his new watch chain, they were the same robes that he had worn to Dumbledore’s funeral, but she hadn’t said anything about them then. It hadn’t seemed right, even though she had thought it. Harry cleaned up well, and she liked that his hair never flattened properly. It made him look roguish and rebellious, qualities she had always appreciated in her heroes.

“Oh, ‘arry,” Fleur interrupted, turning from James and Lily for a moment, “Papa ‘as inseested zat we take a photo with all of ze Champions. I will find you after ze dance, oui?”

“Er — sure.”

Ginny squeezed Harry’s hands. “Could you save me a seat? I think the line’s almost done with.”

“You don’t want to dance?”

“I would like nothing more than to sit down and kick off these shoes for a minute, please.”

“Alright, then.” He glanced nervously at his parents, but when he saw they were turned away to say something to the Longbottoms, he kissed her.

Ginny, who had done everything she could to abandon shyness, could not help but find Harry’s embarrassment cute. Perhaps it was foolish of her to think she liked everything about Harry, and maybe someday she would grow annoyed with his modesty around his parents, but right now, she loved everything — well, almost everything.

She had to admit, she was not fond of this dangerous quest business. Though she had always admired Harry for his bravery and his commitment to doing the right thing, she wished that didn’t come with a year of separation for them. It was hard not to feel abandoned, even though she knew that wasn’t the truth of the matter at all.

At least she knew that the mirror was tucked safely in her trunk. She did feel some guilt about having taken it from James and Lily — but not enough to return it.

And anyway, she did not truly believe that Harry would be separated from them all together. James, Lily, and Sirius would not let Harry be on his own for long. They didn’t need the mirror, not as much as she did.

At least, that was what she told herself, and what she had told Hermione when Hermione had asked her if this was the right choice.

The band began to play the song for Bill and Fleur’s first dance, and Ginny slipped away as quickly as she could without seeming anxious to get away. She found Harry seated at a table with Luna, Neville, Ron, and Hermione, and she gratefully sank into the open seat next to Harry.

“You look lovely, Ginny,” Luna said with a smile.

Ginny smiled and reached down to undo the strap of her heel. “You do too, Luna.”

Luna smiled. Her robes were as brightly colored as her father’s, and while they stood out, they suited Luna.

“I told Daddy everyone would be in dress robes,” she said, “but he believes you ought to wear sun colours to a wedding, for luck, you know.”

Ginny looked down at her gold dress. “Close enough.”

The tent was filled with applause as the song ended. The band followed up with another slow waltz; Ginny’s father took Mrs. Delacour’s hand, and Mr. Delacour took her mother’s. Slowly, the dance floor filled with couples.

“Oh, I love this song,” Luna said dreamily, and stood.

“Er — could I join you?” Neville asked, his cheeks bright pink.

Luna beamed.

Ron pursed his lips as Luna twirled in a circle and pulled Neville into the spin with her. He stumbled over his own feet, but successfully avoided a full sprawl into the floor.

“I suppose that fits alright,” Ron said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ginny asked, not caring to shield the acid in her voice.

“Er — you know. They’re just… er — Hermione, care for a dance?”

Hermione looked pleased to be asked, and readily took Ron’s hand.

Ginny frowned as Ron disappeared into the crowd. She felt particularly protective of Luna and Neville, having briefly dated each of them — or at least, she had gone on a date with each of them. Though neither outing had formed into a lasting relationship, she cared very much for the two of them, and did not think it fair of Ron to disparage them in any way.

Next to her, Harry stifled a yawn, and Ginny leaned her head against his shoulder.

“Not sleeping well without me?” she teased.

He hummed thoughtfully, as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. He did not answer her question, though.

Harry had a habit of getting lost in his own head. She had first noticed it during their shared summer in Grimmauld Place. His vacant expression would appear towards the end of meals, or sometimes in the middle of cleaning. Hermione had speculated that it might be the side-effect of a dementor attack, but Ginny knew better, because Ginny still got lost in her own mind from time to time. Sometimes, it was just too easy to walk the paths of dark memories. She didn’t know why her mind veered towards dangerous corridors habitually, like a familiar road home, but she worked very hard to tread new paths, to forge brighter places to walk. She wanted Harry to forge those new paths, too.

“Harry?” Ginny asked. “You still in there?”

“Er — sorry. Just… Do you know someone named Gregorovitch?”

Ginny frowned and racked her brain for the name. She came up blank. “You don’t mean Gorgovitch? From the Chudley Cannons?”

Harry ran a hand through his hair. His eyes were still distant, still wandering “No. I don’t think so. But maybe it does have something to do with Quidditch…”

“Where did you hear it?”

“In a dream.”

Ginny shook her head. “Well, I can’t think of any Quidditch players named Gregorovitch. At least not in Britain.” She was about to suggest Harry ask Ron, though she doubted Ron would have any better ideas, when she saw Viktor Krum standing near the dance floor, with a drink in his hand, chatting with Cedric Diggory.

“You could ask Krum,” she suggested. “He probably knows the names of loads more international players than I do.”

Harry’s brow creased. “Krum… — Oh, no. Fleur’s found them.”

“She’s waving you over.” Ginny slid her shoes back on and regretted it instantly. Her feet throbbed before she had even finished fastening the straps.

“I don’t want to pose for anymore Triwizard Champions photos.”

“Don’t worry; there won’t be another until they trot you all out in a hundred years to revive the competition, when you’re all withered and grey. Take this one. It’s the last one you’ll look good in.”

Harry laughed, and Ginny smiled, despite her feet. She took his hand as they left their seats.

“Venez vite!” Fleur said, waving her hand. Even as hurried as she was, she made the wave look graceful.

Harry picked up his pace with a strained smile. Ginny lagged behind, afraid to tumble in her tight, tall shoes.

She wondered how much more of this there would be if Harry survived the war, how many more photographs Harry would be dragged into. He was The Chosen One, the saviour of the Wizarding World, and five years from now, ten years from now… How would she fit into all of that?

Ginny hastily banished the thought. She didn’t like to think that far into the future. It was full of too much uncertainty. If Harry survived. If Ron survived. If Hermione survived. If her parents survived, her brothers —

For now, she was just happy to have today.

“They really do make quite the intimidating set,” a young man beside Ginny said.

She frowned up at the vaguely familiar face, tried to place the pale blonde hair and green eyes. He was graceful enough to be a cousin of Fleur’s but something nagged in her that she had seen him at Hogwarts before.

He carried two drinks, but he did not offer one to her. When he realised she was staring, he raised an eyebrow.

“You don’t remember me? That’s alright. You were about waist-high last time we met. I’m Christian Thelborne. I’d shake your hand, but —” He held up the two goblets apologetically.

His name slid into Ginny’s memory like a nail splintering wood. He was a former Gryffindor prefect, and during her first year at Hogwarts, he had caught her out of bed after hours. He had walked her back to Gryffindor Tower and had promised not to mention a word of their encounter to Percy. Ginny didn’t remember much about that night, except that she had been stressed to the point of tears, and Percy scolding her had been just a tiny part of that stress.

“Sorry,” she said, and tried to focus on the balloons that drifted behind Christian’s head, rather than recalling that dark Hogwarts corridor. “I don’t remember much of my first year.”

“I try not to remember mine, either,” he said with a grimace. “Fell flat on my face in my first flying lesson. Put me off Quidditch forever.”

Ginny laughed politely, grateful for the shift in conversation. Her gratitude, however, did not last long.

“Percy says you’re a fair flyer yourself.”

“More than fair,” she said, perhaps a bit more heatedly than Christian deserved, but not nearly as much as Percy deserved.

“Shame he isn’t here. I was looking forward to slipping a Cockroach Cluster into his drink for old times’ sake.”

“I’m sure he’s working,” she snapped, and wished desperately for Christian to stop talking.

“Scrimgeour gave him the day off, actually. I’m not sure that makes it any better, knowing he had a choice.”

Ginny bit down on her tongue to refrain from making any further disparaging comments, and to simply end the conversation. She had spent the hour before the ceremony consoling her mother, who had tearfully suggested they should delay another ten minutes, twenty minutes, that perhaps he was running late, perhaps he had gotten stuck or splinched. She would not add to her mother’s grief by letting her know that Scrimgeour had given Percy leave to attend today, and Percy had still refused it.

Her silence, apparently, communicated all of that better than her acrid tone had.

“I’m sorry,” Christian said. “He and I were good friends once upon a time. I just thought — ah, it looks like our boys have finished with the spotlight for now.”

Fleur kissed each of her fellow Champions on the cheek and flitted off to greet other guests. Ginny hoped that Fleur would pause for a moment to eat or enjoy Bill’s company, but she doubted a bride was afforded that sort of privilege on her wedding day. Ginny privately vowed that whenever that day came for her, she would only have close friends nearby, and it would be nothing more ostentatious than a Quidditch Cup victory celebration.

The only trick to it would be making sure her mother didn’t catch wind of the wedding until it was about to begin.

Now that the photographs had concluded, Ginny and Christian rejoined the group of Champions. Ginny wrapped her arm around Harry’s, and thought he looked just as relieved to be done with photographs as she was to be free of her uncomfortable conversation with Christian. Christian handed one of his glasses to Cedric.

“Thanks,” Cedric said, and took a sip of the drink “Harry, I don’t know if you’ve met Christian Thelborne —”

“I’m surprised we haven’t met yet,” Christian said, and shook Harry’s hand. “I was a prefect for Gryffindor your first few years at Hogwarts. Your mother was one of my favourite professors.”

“Er — sorry I don’t remember you,” Harry said.

“You had a lot going on those first few years. And every year thereafter, from what Cedric’s said.”

“I think we all had a lot going on,” Cedric said. “They ought to change the school motto to ‘never an uneventful year.’”

“Not a bad idea. My first year, a curse had people Sleepwalking into the Forbidden Forest,” Christian said, with a laugh that didn’t match his words. “Had all of us firsties terrified to go to bed at night.”

Krum frowned. “That sounds horrible.”

“A student was killed in my first year,” Cedric said, staring thoughtfully into his glass. “I didn’t know them but it certainly… set a tone.”

Ginny had only been eight years old that year, but she remembered when Charlie had come home from Hogwarts. He hadn’t been the same Charlie that hed left. Sure, he would still coax gnomes out of their garden with treats and still fall asleep in the chicken coop, but he had quit Quidditch and spent more time on his own than playing with her that summer.

Tragedy changed people. It had changed her, it had changed Harry — and her gut twisted as she considered that tragedy was far from over for all of them.

Ginny swallowed and pushed down her fears. In search of a lighter topic of conversation, she asked, “Krum, how are the playoffs shaping up?”

“Senegal looks very good this year,” Krum said quickly, clearly grateful for the lifeline. “Ve vere supposed to play Ireland last week but Ryan did not show and they had to forfeit. It vas not the satisfying rematch I had hoped for.”

“Didn’t I read that you’re practically qualified for the Cup already?” Cedric asked.

“Perhaps. Ve are doing vell in our group, but I do not think ve vill get very far in the playoffs.” Krum shrugged, but Ginny could see the disappointment in his dark eyes. “Vat about you, Cedric, and you, Harry? Vill either of you be going out for a team for the next Cup?”

“I don’t think I’m quite good enough,” Harry admitted. “Maybe in a few years — I mean, I’ve only really won the school championship one time. Every other time, well, it was mostly Ginny. Maybe you’ll be playing against her in a few years.”

“Perhaps I vill.” Krum said. “If she is as good a flyer as you vere vith that dragon, she vill have no trouble finding a team.”

“She’s much better,” Harry promised.

Ginny could not contain her smile. “I’ll see you at the oh-two cup, certainly.”

“I am counting on it,” Krum said with a small nod and a faint smile, something Ginny did not think he showed very often.

Krum’s smile, however, was brief. It turned into a rather dark scowl at something over Ginny’s shoulder. “Who is that?” he asked, voice low. “And vat is he vearing?”

Ginny glanced behind her, unsure what had Krum so angry. She squinted at the crowd of guests, most seated and talking or filling the dance floor. No one stood out as particularly offensive, except perhaps the Lovegoods’ bright yellow robes.

“D’you mean Xenophilius Lovegood?” Harry asked. “I think yellow robes are supposed to be lucky at a wedding, or something.”

“No,” Krum said. “I do not mean his robes. I mean the symbol around his neck.”

Ginny had to squint to see the silver charm dangling from the chain around Xenophilius’ neck. She hadn’t noticed it when he had greeted the wedding party, but she had been preoccupied by everything else he was wearing. She didn’t recognise the strange triangle enclosing a round eye, but surely it was just another Lovegood eccentricity.

Christian, though, made a noise of disgust that matched Krum’s scowl. “I can’t imagine someone would be comfortable sporting Grindelwald’s symbol like that, and in this crowd no less.”

“Grindelwald?” Ginny frowned. “The Dark wizard?”

“It does have a history beyond Grindelwald,” Christian said, “but that doesn’t really matter. I remember assigning a mouthy Ravenclaw a week of detention for etching it into one of his textbooks.”

“There vere always supporters of Grindelvald at Durmstrang, even after his imprisonment in Nurmengard, and those of us who had lost family to Grindelvald vere alvays happy to put them in their place.”

Harry stared at Krum. “I didn’t know…”

“Vy vould you? My grandfather was just one of many that he killed. Grindelvald vas never as poverful in this country. You do not learn his history apart from Dumbledore defeating him.”

“I was taught plenty, but my great-grandfather died fighting Grindelwald.” Christian took another sip of his drink. “I’m named after him.”

Harry looked surprised. “Er — me too. My great-grandfather fought Grindelwald, and that’s why my parents named me after him.”

Christian raised his eyebrows. “An honour we get to share in, then. May we each do them proud.”

Cedric, in a very small and easy to miss gesture, reached for Christian’s hand and squeezed it. Christian did not react, but Ginny wondered how many conversations they must have had about Grindelwald, and about Voldemort.

“Ve vill all do our part,” Krum said, and pulled out his wand to Refill his glass.

Harry stiffened, suddenly, and blurted out, “Gregorovitch!”

Krum frowned. “Yes?”

“Er — nothing. Nevermind. Sorry. I just remembered your wand wasn’t made by Ollivander, that’s all.”

“Is that important?”

“I just — er — was trying to remember — I thought —”

Ginny had always found Harry to be a terrible liar, but he was floundering spectacularly in this moment. She decided to lend him a hand.

“His mum lost her wand in a duel,” Ginny supplied. “With Ollivander still missing, we weren't sure where she might get a replacement.”

Krum nodded. “I haff heard of Ollivander’s disappearance. But I am afraid Gregorovitch cannot help your mother. He retired years ago. I vos one of the last to purchase a vand from him.”

“Lily Potter doesn’t have a wand?” Christian asked with a slight frown.

“When Yaxley blew up my parents’ home,” Cedric said, “he nearly took Lily with it.”

“You didn’t mention that she was there.”

Cedric shrugged. “I didn't think it mattered.”

But Cedric did not meet Christian’s eyes, and Christian stared at him with a frown that Ginny was unfortunately familiar with. She had too much experience with half-spoken fights and half-hidden secrets in relationships. Though she knew that Cedric and Christian would have to discuss this, perhaps a wedding was not the best place for it.

“How is staying with Mad-Eye?” she asked Cedric. “I imagine coming home must require thirteen passwords and seven incantations.”

Cedric gave her a smile, full of relief and humour in equal measure. “You're half-right. I had never loved my job more than the days when coming home meant facing an Azkaban-level interrogation. It's nice to be shot of that, finally.”

Harry frowned. “Have your parents fixed your house already?”

“Well, Christian’s lease was up, and he and Anne wanted a bigger space, so he asked —”

“Begged,” Christian corrected with a smile.

“Fine, Christian begged me to move in with him.”

“It took weeks of convincing. While I would love to see Yaxley in Azkaban, I can't help but think if he hadn’t forced you to live with Mad-Eye, you never would have agreed.”

“When are you moving in?” Harry asked.

Ginny frowned at Harry, and tried to understand why there was anger in his question. Christian, despite his inane need to bring up her estranged brother and his distaste for Quidditch, seemed pleasant enough. Why shouldn't Harry be happy that Cedric had an easy escape from Mad-Eye’s house?

“This morning,” Cedric said. “We’ve got a good deal of unpacking to do tonight.” He turned to Krum. “Do you have a match tomorrow? If not, come over and help. Anne’s promised to have some bottles ready to break the place in.”

Ginny laced her fingers into Harry’s suddenly tight fist. She did not understand his frustration, but she knew it would be best to get them both away to talk about it.

“Harry,” she said, “I’m afraid my feet are killing me. Can we sit down?”

Once they had made their polite exit and were well away from Christian, Cedric, and Krum, Ginny asked, “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” Harry said. He pulled out a seat for her at an empty table, but she did not take it.

“Harry James Potter, don't you lie to me after I gave you a lovely out from a conversation that upset you.”

He grimaced and she thought she ought to use his full name more often.

“It's just —” He ran his hand through his hair. “I thought Cedric was leaving with me, that's all. But it certainly sounded like he was making plans for the opposite.”

Ginny, glad that Harry had given her the honest answer, took a seat. “It could be a cover.”

“Then why only agree to move in with Christian after Yaxley’s attack?” he asked, and practically fell into the seat beside her. “That was less than a week ago, and we had just talked about…” Harry glanced around, but there did not appear to be anyone listening. He leaned closer to Ginny and lowered his voice all the same. “Hermione and Ron put all this effort into disappearing without getting caught. But Cedric’s making more commitments, and even long-term plans. It doesn't sound like he’s thinking about hunting… you-know-whats. I just wish he had told me that he had changed his mind, I guess.”

Ginny frowned. Cedric was not the sort who backed away from a fight. He might take a while to get there, but he showed up. He had supported Harry in the interview with Rita Skeeter, and had even taken what he could of Umbridge’s abuse in order to shield Harry. He had insisted on following Harry into the Department of Mysteries, even when Regulus had advised against it. She did not think Cedric would abandon Harry now, not when they were so close to finishing this.

“I’m sure Cedric knows what he’s doing,” she finally said.

“I don't know how I would do this without him.”

Ginny squeezed his hand. She, too, did not know what she would do if Ron, Hermione, and Harry had to strike out on their own. Knowing that Cedric and Regulus were involved in this quest gave her some peace of mind. Yes, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were of age now but it wasn’t the same as Cedric, who was nearly a full-fledged Auror, or Regulus, who had fought in the first war, albeit on the wrong side.

“Why are you dreaming about a foreign wandmaker?” she asked, and grabbed a bottle of champagne that drifted past Harry’s head.

Harry watched her pour the champagne into two flutes. He did not answer right away, and she wondered if he was searching for a lie. Then he said, “I think Voldemort’s hunting him. I don’t know why. He has Ollivander…”

“You’re dreaming about Ollivander, too?”

Harry grimaced. “Sort of.”

“Is that… safe?” Ginny didn’t know much about Harry’s Occlumency lessons with Snape, but she did remember his parents had valued Occlumency over their hatred of Umbridge, and that said a lot.

“You mean is Ollivander safe? He isn’t.”

“I mean your dreams, Harry.”

Harry shrugged. “Safe or not, I can’t exactly help it. Not unless —” He ducked his head, and looked away. She thought for a moment he wasn’t going to finish his thought and she was going to have to push him again, but he mumbled, “not unless you want to sleep next to me every night.”

She was certain that she had misheard him. “What?”

“I don’t… I don’t dream about Voldemort when I’m with you. Not that I don’t have dreams — and not that I don’t have bad dreams — but it’s different.”

Her face flushed and her stomach filled with Flitterby bushes. “Oh —”

“Ginny!” A pair of heavy hands planted itself on her shoulders. She jumped and spilled her champagne onto the table. “What’s a young thing like you doing sitting down at an event like this? You should be out on the dance floor!”

Ginny, though she was startled and a bit annoyed to have been interrupted, smiled up at her uncle. Uncle Gideon was her favourite uncle, after all. She could forgive him this intrusion.

“In these shoes?” she said. “My feet are pressed tighter than a goat caught in a dragon’s maw.”

Gideon laughed as he fell into the seat next to her. His large belly jostled the table, again knocking over the glass she had just righted, and his lankier brother, Fabian, leaned against it to steady it as he also took a seat.

“Why aren’t you two out on the dance floor?” she shot back and refilled her glass.

Fabian shrugged as he reached into his coat and pulled out a pipe. “No one’s interested in a man with only one hand for caressing.”

Ginny wrinkled her nose. “Sorry that I asked.”

But she grinned as she said it. She’d always liked Uncle Fabian and Uncle Gideon’s sense of humour. She didn’t know how they’d been raised by the same parents as her over-worried and controlling mother, but they’d gained a special place in Ginny’s heart when they had gifted her her first broom for her fifth birthday.

Gideon used his wand to light Fabian’s pipe, then stuffed his own. “So, Potter, Molly tells us you plan to be off and running soon.”

“Er — yeah, something like that.”

“Molly asked us to talk Ron out of it,” Fabian murmured. He took a long, slow draw on his pipe. “Don’t think we stand much chance of that, and less chance of talking you out of it.”

“I’ve made up my mind,” Harry said. “And Ron’s welcome to make his own decision.”

Ginny reached under the table for Harry’s hand. She did not know if Fabian or Gideon heard the sting in Harry’s voice, but after hearing his concerns about Cedric, it was obvious to her that even the question of Ron leaving hurt.

Gideon shook his head. “No need to draw wands about it. Secrets are part and parcel for the Order — and for Dumbledore.”

“But,” Fabian added in a low voice, “secrets have consequences. Are you prepared for that, Harry?”

“Of course I am,” Harry said quickly. “I’ve faced Voldemort before.”

Gideon lit his pipe. “Our advice is to know when to back down, when to cut and run — and when to ask for help.”

“It’s better,” Fabian added, “to fight another day than to never fight again, even if it means coming home missing a piece or two.”

“I have help,” Harry said. “Regulus knows what we have to do.”

This did not bring Ginny’s uncles any comfort.

Gideon frowned. “I remember bringing Black in. Escorted him and his friends in and out of Azkaban for their trial, too.”

“Didn’t trust anyone else,” Fabian added. “Though I always thought it would be the Lestranges who pulled something first.”

“You never suspected that Barty Crouch would escape?” Ginny asked.

“Not for a minute,” Gideon grunted. “Thought the kid would die in there, and wasn’t surprised when that was the news that came out a few weeks later. Apparently Black’s the one we should have watched out for. Though I can’t say I expected him to live very long, either. There wasn’t much left of him when we found him.”

“No,” Fabian agreed quietly, “not much of him at all. The trial nearly did him in, too.” He stared at the crowd of dancers thoughtfully. “I had always had the idea that he and Barty were dueling when we found them, though I could never decide over what. And Black never said anything to suggest that he hadn’t been at that house with Barty and the Lestranges.”

“Dumbledore said that Regulus betrayed Voldemort, and wanted to keep his betrayal a secret,” Harry said. “Maybe he was more afraid of Voldemort than of Azkaban.”

“But by then, Voldemort was long dead,” Gideon grunted. “If he wanted to be on our side, he had plenty of chances to offer it. Even when we met him after Voldemort’s return, Dumbledore only ever told us that Black was willing to offer information to the Order, but we weren’t to trust him any further than that. I saw the appeal of having an informant, but it always felt a bit like keeping a snake in the cradle.”

“I suppose the snake was Snape all along,” Fabian said. His gaze and voice were still distant, as if he had forgotten he was participating in the conversation.

Harry tensed beside Ginny and she squeezed his hand again. She had never liked Snape either, but his complete betrayal had shocked her, too. It must have been so much worse for Harry, who had believed that Snape loved Lily. It must have been so much worse for the Potters, to know that it was Snape who had shared the prophecy with Voldemort in the first place.

“It feels like we always should have known,” Gideon said. “But that’s what everyone said about Pettigrew, too.”

“What did people say about Peter?” Harry asked quickly.

Gideon shrugged. “That he was quiet, bumbling, and easily persuaded. That it was obvious he was the mole.”

“But,” Fabian’s attention returned to the table, “everyone said the same of Sirius that first week after the attack on the Potters. That he was a Black, that he had always hated Lily, that it was obvious he would betray the Potters. People changed their tune quickly after they learned that Pettigrew was responsible.”

Ginny frowned. “Are you saying it’s never obvious?”

“Nothing is in war,” Gideon said. “All we do is built on lies and secrets. It comes with the job.”

“No one knew that better than Dumbledore,” Fabian said. “I expect that’s why no one ever knew him very well.”

“Doge knew him alright,” Gideon said. “Better than the rest of us, anyway.”

“Even better than Aberforth, I’d wager.”

“Who’s Aberforth?” Ginny asked.

“Dumbledore’s brother,” Fabian said. “Younger, I think.”

Harry frowned. “I think I saw a photograph of him once. Isn’t he in the Order?”

Gideon shrugged. “He feeds us information from time to time.”

“Was he at Dumbledore’s funeral?” Ginny asked.

Fabian and Gideon frowned at each other, as if each expected the other to know.

“I don’t recall,” Fabian finally said.

Ginny considered her own absent brother. If Greyback had killed Bill back in June, and her family had gathered for a funeral instead of a wedding, would Percy have attended?

“I wonder what they fought over,” she murmured.

“Doge wrote in his obituary that they never quite recovered after their sister died,” Gideon said. “They had a rather public fight over her grave in Godric’s Hollow. I expect something as tragic as that could very easily tear a family apart.”

“Godric’s Hollow?” Harry asked. “She’s buried there?”

“It’s where Dumbledore spent most of his youth,” Fabian said. “At least, when he wasn’t at Hogwarts.”

Harry frowned. “I never knew…”

“Most of us didn’t,” said Fabian. “Like Gideon said — lies and secrets come with what we do.”

“But Dumbledore hasn’t always led the Order,” Harry said. “Even before —”

“Even before the Order there was Grindelwald,” Gideon said. “The Wizarding World has looked to Dumbledore as a leader and defender for forty years. A man like that doesn’t get to be a man, not even to his friends.”

“He’s simply a legend,” Fabian said. “A fate I pray none of us have to live with, especially you, Harry.”

Harry fingered the stem of his champagne glass with a brooding face. Ginny searched for something to say to pull him out of his head again.

“Harry,” she tried for a bright voice, “how about that dance?”

He blinked at her. “Er — are you sure —”

She was already on her feet and pulling him out of his chair. “Come on, I really like this song.”

Harry did not look convinced, but he followed her all the same, and they both made hasty goodbyes to her uncles.

“I was getting a bit tired of all of that anyway,” she said as she led him to the dance floor.

“I thought it was interesting.”

“Talking about dying?”

“Talking about Dumbledore. I don’t know, I think if I knew him better, maybe I’d understand what he wanted me to do next.”

As they reached the crowd of dancers, Ginny put Harry’s hands on her waist. “Doge is supposed to be here somewhere,” she said. “Do you want to ask him?”

His hands pressed against her dress of their own accord and he pulled her a little closer. “No, I do want to dance. Maybe after —”

But there would be no after. A silver streak of light passed through the party and came to a halt in the center of the dance floor. It took the form of a lynx, glittering like a star against the backdrop of golden lights strung up in the tent.

The music stopped abruptly, and through the silence, Kingsley Shacklebolt’s deep voice boomed, “The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming.”

#harry potter #harry potter and the deathly hallows #hp fic #hp au #everyone lives au #dh

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everlastingconnection · 4 years ago

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Chapter Three - Expanding

Story: An Everlasting Connection Chapter Three: Expanding Rating: T Word Count: 2,904 Disclaimer: This chapter is most entirely based around the events of Goblet of Fire, quotes and events may be taken directly from the book. Everything else is simply from Hermione’s point of view. Summary: The story of Viktor Krum and Hermione Granger, from the first time they came into each others sights until the day one of them says the binding words of 'I do'. Can they defeat the odds of their everlasting connection to find happiness elsewhere, or will they admit the fact that their lives are brighter with the other near?

Excitement bubbled and filled the halls of Hogwarts to a near suffocating point the morning of the two rival schools arrivals. Hermione felt as much excitement as the others, but for very, very different reasons. While her peers buzzed with the enthrallment at the idea of the Triwizarding Tournament, she could hardly contain her excitement to hear about other wizarding schools from peers. What were the classes like? Did they have an entirely different curriculum? Of course, she’d already found out that Durmstrang leaned heavily towards the Dark Arts, even before Malfoy had gone spewing his mouth on the train earlier that year.

The more Hermione thought on it, the more foolish she felt for not putting the pieces together and guessing that the Tournament was coming to Hogwarts. Of course it was, what with all the Weasleys knowing something through the Ministry, along with Ludo Bagman and Barty Crouch having something more than the World Cup on their plates. Throw in Malfoy knowing something more and bragging about Durmstrang? It all made far too much sense now.

“Honestly,” she huffed as their professor seemingly gave up on attempting to teach anything for the day. No one would stop their whispering long enough to absorb information. “Why they didn’t wait until later to inform us, or at the very least, plan this for the weekend, I will never know.” Slamming her book shut, she ignored the snort of laughter from Ron beside her.

“Reckon no one will be like this in Potions. No one fancies ending up in detention tonight, do they?” he pointed out, leaning back in his chair with a sigh. “Wonder if Fred and George have figured out how to get into the tournament yet...”

Harry hummed beside her, and something akin to pride swelled in her chest. Harry’s disinterest in the tournament gave her hope. A much needed hope that for once, perhaps, he wouldn’t be the center of danger for a year. Oh, what a wonderful concept that would be. To simply watch the action from the sidelines, cheering their Hogwarts champion on with her two best friends. It would only be better if their champion happened to be Angelina Johnson. Hermione always held the girl to such a high regard. Not many knew how frequently she’d helped Hermione in her first year, not to mention, anyone who could wrangle the Weasley twins and make them behave for any amount of time deserved the utmost respect.

“I expect any attempts they make will fall flat,” Hermione mused, shaking herself from her thoughts. Perhaps the excitement was contagious. There weren’t many occasions her mind wandered in such a way while in a classroom. “Between the ministry and Professor Dumbledore, I very much doubt that there will be any way to get around whatever they have intended.”

Ron harrumphed, no doubt upset at the idea of not being able to enter himself. While in a selfish way, Hermione was glad he wouldn’t be able to, a small part of her ached for her friend. After so many years of Harry being in the spotlight, she could too easily see why he would want to have one shining moment. Particularly given his brothers all shone so brightly in their own ways. “Yeah well maybe they’d get disqualified for being under age even if they get picked,” he pointed out, almost sounding hopeful.

Hermione shook her head as she began to gather her things. “The tournament doesn’t work that way. There’s a binding magic to it. Once you’ve been chosen, you are permanently bound to it until the end. In one tournament, a champion attempted to back out after being selected and--” Both boys had already tuned her out, turning in their seats on either side of her to talk to Dean and Neville. With an exasperated sigh, she exchanged the book for their current class for her Potions book, wanting a refresher before Professor Snape’s lecture.

As she expected, Potions went as normal, despite the shortened period. Hermione diligently took notes on every small detail Professor Snape gave them, knowing full well that Ron and Harry’s quills hadn’t moved so much as a centimetre since dipping them in ink. The reprieve from distracting thoughts hardly lasted long enough however as they were all excused to go prepare for the schools to arrive. With a sigh, Hermione packed up her bag, half listening as Harry and Ron discussed what methods the schools would use to arrive as they made their way to Gryffindor Tower.

In her dorm room, Hermione went to her corner, putting her things away as the other girls began to gossip and giggle while debating which eye shadow and lip gloss to wear. For her, it was a simple matter of readjusting her uniform, and swapping shoes as the ones she’d worn all day had a few scuffs on them.

“Can you imagine? French boys and dangerous dark arts boys,” Parvati sighed happily. “Not that Hogwarts doesn’t have plenty of cute boys, but they’ve gotten a bit boring lately.”

Lavender agreed with a nod as she helped her friend pin a butterfly in her hair just right, after having adjusted it countless times already. “I still wish Krum hadn’t graduated. Witch Weekly said he was as fierce in class as he was on the field. I bet he would have won the whole thing. Imagine!”

Both girls sighed happily, positively swooning at the poster that had been haunting Hermione since the first day of school. Honestly, why the things were even allowed to be hung in their dorm rooms, she didn’t understand. Too many times she caught him watching her as she readied for the day. Of course, always after she’d dressed, and as with all magical portraits, he wasn’t always there. Yet when he was...

Parvati turned to look at Hermione. “I can’t believe you were at the World Cup. Is he as handsome in person?” she asked, her brown eyes wide, smile hopeful.

Shaking her head, Hermione shifted her weight awkwardly, glancing again at the poster to find him staring at her once more, as if he too, wanted an answer. Ridiculous. “Hard to tell, really. He looked so unhappy any time I looked at him. I don’t find that particularly attractive.”

Both girls looked at her incredulously. One of their other dorm mates muttered something about fancying Ron, making Hermione frown along with Krum. Who said anything about Ron? Surely no one knew about that... even Hermione wasn’t so sure as to how she felt about him, most days. Of course she loved him deeply as a friend. He and Harry were best things to happen in her life, along with getting accepted into Hogwarts, of course. It could very well be that she simply placed the idea of a crush on Ron due to the fact that the other girls were so obsessed with the idea of crushes and dating now. Then again... those moments when he would flash her that goofy grin... Hermione shook herself from the thought, she couldn’t afford to have feelings beyond friendship for either of the boys. They were far too important to risk any drama that may occur with dating.

After all, she’d feared that her friendship with Ron would never have healed last year had it not been for the fact that Scabbers had actually been Peter Pettigrew the entire time. The anger that he’d directed towards her had been a shot to the heart, one that twisted and severed it further each time he glared in her direction. No, Hermione was quite certain she couldn’t survive such an ordeal again should feelings get jumbled once more.

“Honestly Hermione, I wish you’d let us do something with your hair,” Lavender huffed, eyeing her after putting the cap on her lip gloss. “A simple plait could do wonders for you. Your face isn’t half bad, you know. Not that you can tell with all of that in your face,” The girl waved at Hermione’s wild curls as Hermione grabbed her cloak.

Scrunching her face, Hermione raised her chin half an inch, refusing to show how much her heart rate had increased. “If they’re concerned with how my hair looks, they have no place being in the Tournament, but thank you.”

Turning on her heel, she descended the stairs, ignoring the stinging in her eyes. She tried much more than she wanted to admit to fit in with her dorm mates, yet time and time again it proved fruitless. They simply had too different an idea of what consisted as being important in life. If a boy couldn’t see her as wonderful for her brain and personality, then why on Earth would she want anything to do with them? Surely snogging wasn’t worth putting herself through the torture they did in order to look acceptable to males. Honestly, the girls were pretty enough without all of the extra things they used. It drove Hermione mad to think about.

Wiping at her eyes and forcing a smile on her face, Hermione found her best friends in the common room, joining them to head downstairs, While her words and actions held excitement with her boys, her mind continued to be traitorous. Would Ron prefer her hair to be plaited instead of its normal wild state? Merlin, why was she obsessing over this all of a sudden? Flattening her hair hopelessly before reaching the grounds, she allowed the boys to exit before her, trying to take a moment to get her head back on proper.

“I’m surprised the hat even fits on that mess of hair of hers anymore,” murmured a Slytherin who passed by Hermione, exiting just after Harry and Ron were out of earshot. Gritting her teeth, Hermione raised her chin once more and walked around them, attempting to catch up with her friends. At least now she could pretend the sting of her eyes was due to the crisp fall air whistling around the student body.

Her looks shouldn’t matter. They didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that her teeth weren’t perfectly sized and straight as her parents kept promising they would help her fix, despite the fact she spent most of her years at a school where it could be fixed in moments versus years. It didn’t matter that no matter what hair products her mum bought her each year, the frizz would never grow tame. It simply didn’t matter. It couldn’t matter.

Breathing in the cool air, Hermione linked her arms in with Harry and Ron’s as Professor McGonagall directed them where to stand among the other Gryffindors. She had the best friends a girl could possibly ask for (if not also the most problematic ones- she wouldn’t change them for the world), and that was what mattered. Not some silly elastics or plaits or glosses. Letting go of each boy as they acknowledged her with their own versions of a smile, she grinned, trying not to laugh at each idea their house mates came up with as to how the schools would arrive.

No, her life as a girl was certainly not perfect. Being a perfect girl hardly mattered though, when one lived such an exciting life. Being beautiful and wanted... that was very much to be worried about later in life, if ever. “Really, how has no one considered they may simply take the train and carriages here?” she quipped in at one point, but everyone seemed to think this idea too dull. Giving her head a shake, she allowed herself to indulge in the ideas everyone came up with, knowing full well none of them could be accurate.

And she certainly didn’t allow herself to mentally gloat when Parvarti was told to take the butterfly out of her hair. Okay, perhaps she had bit her lip to hide her grin as Parvarti and Lavendar complained about the unfairness of not being able to show off how cute they could be for the foreign students. Honestly, they were all of age, while they were simple fourth years. Hermione doubted the new comers would spare anyone their age a second glance. Particularly while being focused on something as big as the Tournament.

No matter what idea anyone had for how the schools would arrive, it couldn’t compete with reality. The gorgeous carriage Beauxbatons came in simply took Hermione’s breath away. Gripping Ron’s sleeve, she bounced on her heels, eyes widening as the headmistress appeared. While Hermione had her suspicions about Hagrid, with this woman there were few suspicions to have. She would nearly be willing to bet anything that this woman was part giant. “Ohhh I wonder if we’ll be allowed to get close to their carriage... I can only imagine the details not to mention how much magic it must take to fly so far!”

Of course, her comment went ignored, everyone too wrapped up on the looks of the newcomers. Which yes, some of the boys were rather attractive, but why must everyone be so focused on that? There was so much to be learned from them beyond what they looked like! It was positively infuriating. Besides, all of them seemed to have thought coming north in the fall wouldn’t require more than thin silk robes. Yet, couldn’t take the blame for themselves, instead seeming to turn their noses up at her fellow students, some even glaring at them. Perhaps they too, had become too obsessed with the idea of new people to impress and date. Hermione truly hoped not. Being able to participate in such a Tournament was a once in a life time honor. One no one could claim in centuries.

Once the rather uppity French students disappeared into the school, the true wonder and anger inducing school made their appearance. If Hermione had been excited to learn about Beauxbatons mode of transportation, it paled in comparison as her heart leapt into her throat at the Durmstrang ship. As far as she knew, the lake wasn’t attached to any other bodies of water, and thus the magic used must have been exponentially powerful, particularly given the students seemed to be manning the ship if her eyes were seeing correctly.

Hermione hardly had time to wonder at this however, as the first student off the ship was... “VIKTOR KRUM!” “Is that Krum?” “It can’t be!” “Didn’t he finish school already?” “It is him!” Voices exploded around Hermione, making it near impossibly to even think. She’d only caught a glimpse of him before the crowd went insane, but she’d been certain too. That grumpy face and awkward posture would be recognizable near anywhere these days. Closing her eyes and inhaling slowly, she attempted to focus on her best friends, only to become more annoyed when Ron asked if she had anything he could get an autograph with.

“Honestly this is ridiculous,” she huffed, crossing her arms but listening intently as the headmaster spoke to Professor Dumbledore, her eyes roving over to Krum who unexpectedly met her eyes too. If she didn’t know better, she would almost think he recognized her. A silly idea, considering he’d only possibly seen her for a second at the World Cup. Yet, she couldn’t help the heat rising to her cheeks as she looked to Ron. Yes, she was imagining things. Boys simply didn’t take notice to her beyond her brains, and she was rather okay with that. “Let’s get inside. You can attempt to get his autograph when he isn’t being hounded, Ron.”

Fortunately, Harry agreed and the three trudged inside, into the Great Hall and to their table. Hermione knew it had been a mistake to sit beside Ron, yet she always found the most joy sitting beside him, particularly if she could manage to be between the two boys. As soon as Hermione began to wonder at all the different foods, and grow angry at how much extra effort the poor house elves must have put into this feast all day, Ron started in. Trying to get her to move in order to have Krum sit beside them.

A thrill shot through her as she glared at him. He couldn’t be serious, could he? Worse, Hermione glanced at Krum, who was already taking a seat next to Malfoy (to Ron’s great annoyance), to find him glancing at her again. The moment was brief, but enough to force Hermione to pay attention to her own table and her own troubles. If she kept this up, she’d end up sounding like Parvarti and Lavendar, obsessing over a celebrity, hoping he was looking her way.

No, instead, Hermione ignored the presence of Krum the rest of the night, instead focusing on the new foods around them, explaining the French ones to her house mates, and attempting to guess at the ones meant to honor Durmstrang.

By the time the Goblet of Fire had been revealed and the rules surrounding the Tournament, Hermione felt as though she could breathe again. Even the never ending comments about Krum all around her had finally stopped grating on her nerves. Truly, she believed Harry would have no chance of accidentally ending up in the Tournament. Nor would any of the Weasley’s, no matter how confident Fred and George were. No, Hermione knew Dumbledore was far too wise to let a simple aging potion befuddle his spells.

This year would be good. Of that, she was certain.

#everlasting connection #krumione fanfic #hp fanfic #Krumione #Viktor Krum

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beeezie · 6 years ago

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English Lessons

Bill and Fleur's English lessons take an interesting turn.

(series of smutty one-shots)

also found on +hpft | +ao3 | +ffnet

Day 1

“We shouldn’t be doing this in my office.”

Fleur Delacour was not sure that she really needed English lessons. Even if she did, she wasn't sure that the best tutor would have been Harry Potter's handsome Cursebreaker… brother? Foster brother? She wasn't totally clear on what the relationship was there. At any rate, he didn't know French, and as far as she knew, he'd never really taught anyone anything before.

At the same time, he was exceedingly handsome, and he'd made her laugh the first time they'd bumped into each other at Gringotts. So in that way, he was the perfect tutor.

Bill Weasley's office door swung open as soon as she knocked. His red hair was pulled back behind his face, and the blue short sleeve shirt he was wearing accentuated both the muscles in his arms and his lively blue eyes. "Hey," he said, stepping back to let her in. "I'm sorry again about canceling yesterday. I had -"

" - some family stuff," she said with him.

Her smile seemed to reassure him. "Yeah," he said, grinning back. "I really am sorry. I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to find another tutor."

His repeated cancellations for last minute "family stuff" did not, in fact, make her want to find a new tutor. Harry Potter had insisted that You-Know-Who was back, and she was inclined to believe him; she'd repeatedly felt like she was being sabotaged in the tournament, Cedric Diggory was dead, and besides, Harry had had no reason to lie.

And if You-Know-Who was back, she suspected that Bill's last minute "family stuff" was probably more heroic than mundane, and if there was one thing that Fleur had always loved more than a handsome face, it was heroics.

"No," she said, sitting down on one of his chairs. "I love my family. It is good that you love yours, too."

Bill's office was big - bigger than she'd have expected for someone who was still in his twenties. From what she'd gathered, he'd been one of their most successful Cursebreakers until he'd abruptly decided to take a desk job earlier that summer, and he commanded a corresponding amount of respect. It seemed like he was planning to stay awhile, too - he'd made vague comments about looking forward to his "first Christmas at home in awhile, at least," and the office was already very identifiably his. The entire color scheme was clearly modeled after Gryffindor colors (which made her roll her eyes a little - the English could be so ridiculous about their Hogwarts houses), the bookshelf was filled with his books and trinkets, and there were a few framed pictures of his family and friends on his desk and on the sidetable next to the couch.

"If I'm going to be stuck at a desk job, I'm going to have somewhere comfortable to read the mountains of reports about shit I wish I could still be doing," he'd said when she'd asked whether he actually used the couch. He had not expanded on why he was ‘stuck' at a desk job, and she hadn't asked; she assumed that, like many things, it had to do with his family.

He'd always sat on one of his desk chairs when they had ther lessons, but today, he flopped down onto his dark red couch along the far wall. "Hurt myself yesterday," he said by way of explanation. "It's not serious, it's just been a long day and this is more comfortable."

From the way he was arching his back and rolling his head from one side to the other, she didn't think it was a ploy to get them to move to the couch - though she wouldn't have complained if it was. "Should I come over there too, then?"

"If you like," he said after a moment of hesitation. "Sure."

She smoothed her green skirt down before sitting next to him. "How did you hurt yourself?"

He made a face. "My family's clearing out some old furniture, and the relatives who bought it - centuries ago, mind - decided to hex it so it couldn't be moved by magic. Every time you try, it gets heavier, and it took us a little while to realize what was going on. Petty bastards."

She winced.

"You can ask me about them if you like, you know," he said, arching his back again. "My family, I mean. I noticed that you don't, even though you've said a couple things about Harry."

"I do not want you to think that I am spying on you."

His eyebrows went up a little. "Come again?"

She glanced toward the closed door and lowered her voice. It was soft enough that he had to lean in closer to hear her. "Harry Potter is your - your foster brother, yes?"

He considered that. "Sort of. Sure."

"Then your family must be working against You-Know-Who." When he opened his mouth, she added, "No one told me this. But if you trust him and you are not a coward, then you must be, and I do not want you to think I am spying on you."

Bill studied her for a moment. "So you never ask me about my family because you're afraid I'll think you're just trying to use me for information about them?"

She nodded and braced herself. It was an awkward thing to have said, and she wasn't sure how he'd react.

His smiled looked genuine. "Thanks," he said. "I don't think that, but I suppose if someone was trying to get my guard down, they'd send someone beautiful, wouldn't they?" She felt her face start to get hot, but she was saved from having to come up with a response when he rubbed the back of his neck. "Fuck, I shouldn't have sat at my desk all day."

She considered him for a minute. "Do you want me to - what is the word?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. Give me a little more to work with."

"Ah - touching, to make it feel better when it hurts."

His expression cleared. "Are you offering to massage my neck?"

"Yes! That is the word."

He looked a little taken aback. "I - sure." He turned away from her and pulled his hair over his shoulders. Her heart started to hammer as she edged a little closer, and butterflies exploded in her stomach when she touched his shoulders. "That feels good," he sighed.

"I know."

He laughed. "So are you curious about my family? It's fine if you're not."

She wasn't entirely sure she believed that it would truly be fine if she wasn't - she would not have particularly liked anyone who was actively disinterested in her family - but as it happened, she was very curious.

"Yes," she admitted. "How many siblings do you have?"

"Six," he said. "Five brothers, one sister. I'm the oldest. You probably saw a few of the younger ones at Hogwarts, at least in passing - they're close to Harry - and my brother Percy filled in for his boss once or twice."

"Mr. Crouch?" she asked. "Yes, I remember that. That was a very - very odd thing to happen. Viktor told me about Mr. Crouch attacking him in the forest."

She felt Bill's shoulders tense, just a little. "Viktor Krum? You - saw a lot of him, did you?"

Bill didn't strike her as a particularly jealous person, but she supposed an international Quidditch star was probably enough to make anyone a little jealous at first. She considered clarifying immediately, and then thought the better of it; she was curious to see what Bill was like when he was jealous. "Of course," she said instead. "He was another champion, you know, and we were both - both visitors at your Hogwarts. It was very odd, and difficult to find our way around at first. So we spoke often, especially of home. He missed it."

To her surprise, Bill moved off Krum, though the tension in his shoulders said that he was probably still thinking about the other man. "Did you miss home?"

She considered that. "Sometimes," she said slowly. "I think I like it here more than he did, but you English can be strange sometimes, and I miss my sister."

"You've said that, yeah. Tell me about her."

She focused on the feel of his broad, muscular shoulders beneath her hands for a moment while she gathered her thoughts. "My sister Gabrielle is - we are very close. She is younger than me, and when we were children, we liked to pretend we were - fairies is not quite the right word, but I do not know what is - in the woods behind our house. I used to sneak my wand outside after I started at Beauxbatons so I could make her - not fly. What is the word? When you are just in the sky, but you do not move?"

"Float? Hover?"

"Yes. I would make her float in the sky." Fleur smiled at the memory. Those had been happier, more innocent times. Now, she was just glad that Gabrielle was still safely in France. "Now she wants to be a - a fairy - who rides on a dragon. Is that right?"

"Sure. You can say dragonrider, too. It doesn't really work for most animals, but it does for dragons."

"Dragonrider. Yes. She wants to be a fairy dragonrider. She was very jealous of me for the first task, and she was also angry that I did not try to ride the dragon."

That made him laugh. "That sounds like something my sister might say." He was silent for a minute. Then he said, "You know, my brother Charlie helped bring those dragons in for the first task - he works with them in Romania. If you wanted, I could talk to him about - I dunno, something where she could see them closer up. He works with French researchers sometimes. Not something dangerous," he added quickly. "But - just closer."

That took her aback. "I - that would be very nice, if it is not too much trouble. I think she would like that very much."

"I'll owl him, then." He rolled his shoulders back and forth. "That feels a lot better, thanks. You can stop, if you want."

"I do not mind." She put a little more pressure on his right shoulder, and he let out a contented sigh. After a moment, she said, "I - Viktor and I - we are friends, but that is all."

He didn't respond, but she felt him relax a little, and she was glad she'd said it.

"Thanks for the massage," Bill said on their way out.

She felt her face get a little hot. "Thanks for the English lesson."

His fingers brushed across her bare arm, and she felt a spark pass between them. "You don't need to thank me - you're easy to talk to."

She realized that she was smiling. "When are you free?" she asked.

"Well…" He drew out the word. "Next week - you probably don't want to do it again this week -"

"This week is good," she said quickly.

"Then I'm free tomorrow." He shook his head when she agreed. "You're going to get sick of me soon," he warned as they parted ways. "I'm really not that interesting."

Based on their encounters over the past five weeks, she doubted that she would get sick of him.

The next day, he found her in a nearby cafe during her lunch break. "I'm really sorry," he panted. "But some family stuff came up, so I've got to leave at 5. It freed me up tomorrow, though, if you don't have other plans."

"I can do tomorrow," she said cheerfully. If she'd known, she probably would have put a little less time into her hair and makeup that morning, though the way he was looking at her made her feel like he was still appreciating the effort.

"I'm really sorry," he said again. "Believe me, I'd much rather -"

She rose up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "It is fine, Bill. Stop worrying."

He flushed; by the time he managed to reply, his face was red as his hair. "Thanks. Tomorrow, then."

It occured to her that whatever the circumstances, the constant scheduling and re-scheduling of plans probably would have annoyed her coming from most people. She wasn't sure why it didn't annoy her with him.

To her relief, nothing family-related came up the next day, and she ducked into the bathroom after finishing her day to reapply her makeup and change into a white sundress. When she arrived at Bill's office shortly after 6 and knocked on his open door, his eyebrows shot up. "You look - nice," he managed to get out. "Do you have plans tonight?"

"Yes." His face fell a little, so she added, "I have an English lesson."

He didn't usually lose his capacity to speak, but he was clearly speechless now. After a long pause, he cleared his throat. "So you got dressed up for this?" She shrugged. "I'm - you look nice."

"You said that already, but thank you." She closed the door behind her and joined him on the couch. When she looked at him more closely, she noticed that he had dark circles under his eyes. "Are you - are you okay?"

He nodded. He was still staring at her. "Yeah. Just a little tired - I didn't sleep well."

"Mm." She put her hand on his arm. He jumped a little, but didn't pull it away. "Do you want another - another massage?"

Now his face did light up in a grin. "Nah," he said. "Looking at you is much more relaxing than looking at a wall." Lines like that had never worked on her, but she could feel the heat rising in her cheeks now. Before she could figure out how to respond, he said, "So how was your day?"

He had a habit of saying things like that and then changing the subject before she could respond. She wasn't sure how she felt about it, though it definitely caught her off-guard.

The conversation came to a lull, and she was considering edging closer to him when he cleared his throat. "So - I think it is, but I just want to double check - it's okay if I kiss you, right?"

As soon as she said yes, his mouth was on hers. She brushed her tongue against his and grabbed his shirt to pull him closer. They fell back against the arm of the couch, and he tore his mouth away from hers. "Hold on," he said, reaching over to grab his wand off the table. "If someone walked in on this, I could get -" He waved it in the general direction of the door, and she heard the click of a lock followed by a faint humming noise. Her lips met his again, and his wand clattered back on the table as he wrapped his arms around her.

"Bill," she breathed as his soft lips touched her neck. "Yes, please, yes."

"Fuck, I should not be doing this in my office," he said. His hand continued to creep up her leg, and he didn't take his lips away from her neck.

"You started it," she pointed out. "You kissed me."

"I was just trying to get up the nerve to ask you out, and then you showed up looking like you were going on a date with the luckiest person in the world. Didn't you want me to kiss you?"

"Well, yes." She nudged him. "Sit up." When he did, she swung one leg over so she could straddle him. "Do you want to stop, then?" she whispered in his ear as she rocked against him.

He shuddered. "Absolutely not." Before she could respond, he kissed her again. When she started to play with the buttons on his shirt, she felt his hand settle on her ass. As soon as the buttons were undone and her lips were on his chest, he said, "You know, I wouldn't mind reciprocating."

The tone of his voice and the way his hands felt on her body made a shiver run up her spine, and she slipped out of the straps of her dress. It fell to her waist, and he immediately reached around to undo the hooks on her bra. "I have been wanting this for weeks," she said. When he pulled on her hips, she rose to her knees, and he immediately started to swirl his tongue around her nipple.

"So have I," he said before taking it in his mouth.

She dug her fingernails into his shoulders and began to move her hips against the air. After a moment, she felt his fingers on the inside of her thigh. He made a questioning noise. "Yes," she gasped. He pushed her underwear aside, and she cried out.

He looked up at her. "Of course you're loud." His tone was playful, and she didn't even bother to hold back her giggle. "Fleur, I put a silencing spell on the door, but please try to keep it down - the room isn't soundproof." Then his mouth was on her other breast, and his fingers had started to hit a rhythm. She clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle her moan. "Fuck," he said under his breath, moving his fingers in time with her hips. "Fleur -"

It vaguely occurred to her that her attempts to muffle her moans probably weren't very effective, but she didn't think she could have held them back even if she'd tried. The pressure was building inside of her, and it was almost impossible to think of anything else.

She shuddered as the ripples pulsed through her. He caught her as she collapsed and ran his dry hand through her hair while she whimpered against his chest.

His eyes drifted downward when she straightened up, and his breath caught in his throat as she began to kiss his neck. "What do you want?" she asked softly.

When she pulled back to look at him, his eyes were unfocused. "I want to be inside you," he managed to get out. "But that's definitely not something we should be doing here."

She rocked against him, and he buried his face in her neck. "Are you sure?"

"That we shouldn't be having sex in my office?" His tone was dry. "Yes. I'm very sure." She rose up on her knees again, and despite his words, his mouth immediately went back to her breast.

"I will not tell, and I do not think anyone else is here. It is Friday."

She saw him glance toward the door. "Oh, fuck it," he said, reaching down to unbutton his trousers. "There's a condom in the top drawer of my desk," he told her. "Hand it to me?"

She reached over to grab it. "Your top drawer?" she teased as he tore the package open.

He grinned at her. "I told you I've been wanting to do this for weeks. I didn't want to have to go looking for it, just in case." She let her dress and underwear fall to the floor. "This is such a bad idea," he said without any real conviction. His clothing joined hers. "We shouldn't be doing this in my office."

"You could always just put your clothing back on," she pointed out, pushing her silvery blond hair behind her and laying back on the couch.

He tossed the wrapper aside and positioned his body over hers. "Bull shit I can."

He groaned as he slid into her, and she immediately put her hand up to cover his mouth. "Your office isn't soundproof."

She could see the laughter in his eyes as he started to thrust. After a moment, his fingers drifted down to touch her again. She bit down on her lip.

"Bill," she breathed. "Oh - oh, yes." When he buried himself deep inside of her, she muffled her moans in his neck. She heard him grunt as she tightened around him, and she slid her hand around to the back of his head to pull him down for a kiss.

When they broke apart, she felt his voice tickle her ear. "Can I get behind you?"

Her stomach flipped over. "Yes," she murmured.

She couldn't hold back her whimper when he pulled out of her. "I know," he hissed. "Hurry up. Fuck, Fleur, please, I need to be in you." She rolled over and braced herself on the arm of the chair. She buried her face in the crook of her elbow just in time to muffle her shriek as he entered her again. She felt his grip on her hips tighten every time she moaned into her arm. "Fuck," he said softly as she pushed herself back against him. "Next time, we need to do this where you can be as loud as you want. I love it." He pushed himself deep into her, and she bit down on her arm to soften her scream.

"Now you are just trying to make me - be loud," she gasped, raising her head a little.

His reached around to touch her again, and she let out a loud moan before she could bury her face in her arm again. "Of course I am."

It was a battle that she was not remotely embarrassed to admit that he easily won.

After another minute, he stopped and pulled out of her again. "I'm getting close," he said when she twisted around in protest. "I want to look at your face while I come. How do you want me?"

"Lay down," she said. He immediately flopped onto the couch, kicking one of the back cushions to the floor to make room for her legs. His eyes rolled back in his head as she sank onto him, and she covered his mouth with her hands just in time to smother his groan.

When she moved her hands to his shoulders, he was smiling again. He stared at her as they moved in time together, and after a moment, she felt his fingers back on her clit. She bit back a whimper, and he muttered "Fuck" under his breath again. Both his thrusts and his fingers were starting to speed up, and he put a hand over her mouth when he felt her starting to tighten around him. When the ripples had started to slow down, he moved his hand to her hips. He kept his eyes fixed on her face, and it only took a few more thrusts to finish him off.

They lay there for a moment. Then he sighed. "I really hate to say this, but can you get off of me so we can put our clothes back on?" She made a disgruntled noise. "Yeah, I know. But this is my office, not my bedroom."

"Maybe next time, we should be in your bedroom, then."

"Oh, next time we should definitely be in my bedroom."

#harry potter fanfiction #bill weasley #fleur delacour #bill x fleur

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habibialkaysani · 6 years ago

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harry potter + gayness ratings

so I've been doing a hp reread the last week or so. I'm on the goblet of fire and I figured it was time to look at all the hidden subtextual (and therefore the last thing from intentional from she who must not be named) homoeroticism in the books I've read so far:

harry potter and the philosopher's stone - 2/10, pretty much zilch as harry was still smol and therefore didn’t really understand his feelings at all (not that he got much better at that later on lol), but I'll give a couple points for harry and ron because their friendship at least started here

harry potter and the chamber of secrets - 3/10, nothing really springs to mind except ron being fiercely protective of his bff MY DUDES I HAVE FAILED MY OWN FANDOM how could I forget the whole “scared, potter?” “you wish” moment??? or just generally how harry and draco are archenemies aged just 12 years old?? for realsies tho that moment in the books and the films was one of the few things that I think was done justice. 5/10

harry potter and the prisoner of azkaban - 7/10, now we're talking. this was the one that made me glad I was doing a reread (the first two, while enjoyable, felt a bit predictable, possibly because I have watched those movies so many times), and the moments with remus and sirius being unflinchingly loyal to their bf james and rightly berating peter for not dying for him the way both of them would have - showstopping. I'm just sad they only hugged when they reunited but hey this is you-know-who after all - and no, I don’t mean voldy-shorts. and I felt like drowning in my own tears at “not at all, padfoot, old friend” and good god now I want to either read or write marauder fic. I will have to dig up some of my old faves at some point soon.

also!!! ron with his whole “if you’re going to kill harry you’ll have to kill us too” - this is the kind of RIDE OR DIE person I need in my life one day - girls only tho lol.

harry potter and the goblet of fire - 12/10, omg. omg omg omg. I haven’t even finished it yet but here’s a quick list of what I have so far:

harry meeting bill and immediately realising he’s got a crush on him (”bill was - there was no other word for it - cool”).

also I always felt like bill radiated bi energy with that long hair and earring combo amirite

fred and george legit say to harry that they’re sure percy is gonna pop the question soon to barty crouch, which aside from being rather funny also reminds me of the fact that there are a fair few jokes of this vein that I might have missed in past books - tho I still find it hilarious that crouch calls percy weatherby, lolol

so! many! mentions! of cedric diggory being handsome! like harry my boy I know how you feel. I used to wonder what that feeling was when I looked at a girl and was sure I was just jealous of how pretty she was and actually it turned out I just wanted to kiss her. harry should have kissed cedric on the mouth 2k19

god also harry gets so nervous around cho, bless my lil bisexual disaster

when harry is doing the second task, the thing that he would have missed the most was “his wheezy” and honestly SAME. like, aside from fleur who got her sister, the boys all got the people they loved to save

(side note, I love love love all the krumione in this. not gay directly but I’m getting there)

I know it wasn’t in the books but when the weasley twins are teasing ron about how much he admires krum it reminded me of how in the movies they were like “viktor, I love you, viktor, I do, when we’re apart my heart beats only for youuuu” and also!!! ronnie literally has a figurine of viktor in the dormitory. freddie wasn’t wrong when he said ron was in love :D

on that note, omg, I am something of a sucker for love triangles and I have to admit I loved the whole thing with ron, hermione and krum, and then harry, cho and cedric, esp because??? they all liked each other??? and they could have all been happy together if they wanted to. in particular, ron clearly fancied the pants of viktor, and there is no platonic way of harry thinking of him as handsome that many times, lbr.

the yule ball. good god. it could have been so, so, so easily solved if they just went with their best friends. I remember seeing a post about how ron should have danced with harry to open the yule ball with a rose between his teeth and honestly SAME.

not to mention??? parvati and lavender were clearly girlfriends and dean and seamus were boyfriends, so they also should have gone together instead of forcing this thing with parvati and harry (krum and hermione meanwhile were a match made in heaven imo and I loved them and always will)

I’m sure there will be more as I continue to reread. just thought I should liveblog for this :)

#harry potter #harry potter reread lb #me.txt #long post for ts #no one is straight and you can fight me on this #my gay fists are ready #except for snape the str8s can have him

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possibleplatypus · 7 years ago

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HAVE SOME WORLDBUILDING for the harry potter cross-dressing tech support 3au prompt thing requested by heart mouth anon.

I wrote it so I might as well share it :P spoilers for if you haven’t read the thing.

Viktor Nikiforov

Viktor is from a very old/wealthy/influential Russian Pure-blood family that went underground when Grindelwald came into power and reemerged in Britain when the fighting was over. Historically, the family tried their best not to take sides in conflicts, which gained them enemies anyway.

When Viktor started showing remarkable magical aptitude as a child (his temper tantrums brought down literal blizzards), his parents decided to have him home-schooled from an early age instead of sending him to Hogwarts.

His parents are kind of elitist in regards to blood status but they’re not Pure-blood supremacists; they think they’re pretty much better than everyone else and view Muggles as akin to cute dogs that can do tricks, but acknowledge that some of the strongest/smartest wizards have been Half-bloods/Muggleborns. They taught Viktor not to underestimate or look down on anyone because of blood status, but still expect him to marry another Pure-blood and would probably be aghast if he married a Muggle (but they’d ultimately come around, especially if they have grandchildren).

He was pretty sheltered for most of his life, knowing only his tutors and the Aurors who protected his family; his parents; the house elves (one of whom was assigned to be his personal house elf at birth and became his closest friend); and his parents’ Pure-blood/high status guests and their children. Viktor was always charming, but in the end refused to see the other children again if they were rude to the house elves (and there were a lot of rude children), citing the need to study.

Viktor’s father wanted to groom him to eventually become Minister of Magic, but Viktor wanted something more exciting. He also wanted to be able to use his magic regularly instead of sitting at a desk all day. As Aurors protected his family and home and were dashing figures of heroism, he decided to pursue that route. His parents objected because of the danger inherent in the profession. When shown photos and told stories of what Aurors had to go through, Viktor was admittedly shaken. But after giving it some thought, he decided to become an Auror anyway– he knew he was strong, and would get stronger with practice. Why not use that strength to benefit the world (and escape his parents’ expectations)? He also pointed out that being an accomplished Auror would make him a more popular candidate for Minister of Magic (not that he cared about that).

Viktor was 18 when he became an Auror (and got his own flat, finally); he was the youngest Auror in history. They wouldn’t let him start training until he was 16 (and his family had to pull some strings), and he completed training in 2 years instead of 3 because he was just that good. On his first assignment, he found and captured a Dark wizard and their duel caught the attention of the Muggle village the wizard was hiding in; the whole village needed to be Obliviated. Viktor became a media sensation for his young age, prowess, name, charisma, and good looks. He continued to excel in virtually every case that he was given.

Viktor was invited soon after his first case and every year thereafter by his Hogwarts fanclub to give demonstrations of defensive charms and dueling. Chris was inspired to become an Auror after meeting Viktor at a demonstration at Beauxbatons; Chris currently lives and works in Switzerland, but he and Viktor exchange letters and visit each other occasionally.

After working as an Auror for 6 years, the glamour of the profession has largely been stripped away– long days and nights staking out Dark wizards; sometimes being unable to save people; gruesome crime scenes; the media constantly waiting for him to slip up; unable to keep a meaningful relationship because of his job/concerns about enemies coming after his partners if the relationship was made public; the other Aurors thinking he’s a goal to surpass or an airhead or a spoiled show-off etc.; his parents nagging him to retire already, get married, and start running for office; his closest friends being his dog and his house elf, who he told to stay behind to take care of his parents (she comes to fetch Makkachin when Viktor is on long-term missions). It doesn’t help that he overworks to ignore his deteriorating emotional state.

Then he goes to the latest graduation banquet and congratulates all the newest Aurors and says he looks forward to working with them (kind of a lie since he pretty much always works alone); one of the graduates is a very handsome Japanese man who seems to be stuck to the wall furthest away from everyone else, shows no interest in mingling, and drinks glass after glass of Firewhisky. Viktor learns that his name is Yuuri Katsuki, who the other graduates say received top marks in all their classes but for some reason nearly failed the final exam. When one of the graduates goes to fetch Yuuri, Yuuri challenges him to a “dance battle,” snaps his fingers, and music starts playing out of nowhere. Viktor watches, slack-jawed, as Yuuri strips his robes off and obliterates his friend with some scandalous Muggle dancing. He beats everyone else who challenges him, too– then he spots Viktor.

The other Aurors watch with much amusement as Yuuri sweeps Viktor away into dances that he is thankfully more familiar with; they dance, uncaring of (or in Yuuri’s case, oblivious to) their audience. They start dancing in the air, on the walls, on the ceiling; more of Yuuri’s clothes start vanishing; following their lead, the rest of the party devolves into drinking and debauchery.

Yuuri asks Viktor to be his partner, and Viktor *gasps* thinking he’s never had a partner before and should he really agree to it with a guy he doesn’t even know and who came in dead last on the final but he’s never felt such a connection with anyone before and oh what the hell yes, owl me tomorrow and we’ll set things up and send Yakov a proposal. He is already excited about mentoring/being partnered with someone so vivacious.

A concerned staffer (and killjoy) alerts Yakov (who left early after giving his speech) that the banquet has descended into hedonism, the Aurors were supposed to have left already, we need this room tomorrow; Yakov finds Viktor cradling a practically naked man in his arms (Yuuri’s only in his boxers at this point, and those are being dangerously jostled as he grinds against Viktor) and becomes apoplectic, tells everyone to go home, ESPECIALLY YOU VITYA, and makes one of the more sober graduates take Yuuri home.

Viktor practically floats back to his flat. Then he waits for Yuuri’s owl. He waits for a week before casually asking Yakov if he knows where Yuuri is, only to find out he recently left for a secret mission for an undetermined amount of time that Yakov won’t tell him anything about.

Viktor is furious, why the hell would a complete rookie be sent on a confidential mission? but Yakov says it’s none of Viktor’s business and won’t budge, not even after weeks of him asking after Yuuri, and Vitya if you ask me one more time about that boy I’ll send you to Romania to shovel dragon dung. Viktor throws himself into his work and gets more and more unhappy and reckless…

Yuuri Katsuki

(Note: The presence of Youkai in wizarding Japan as well as a kitsune Headmistress for Mahoutokoro was inspired by @dreaming-fireflies’ Hogwarts series, Defying Gravity, which everyone should read!)

Yuuri showed no signs of magical ability until he was 9 months old and started trying to walk. Hiroko fondly recalls that Yuuri appeared frustrated whenever he would stumble or fall, and then one day all of a sudden turned into a black fox kit and started running around the house.

Living in a Muggle community and running a Muggle inn, Yuuri’s parents hid him from the guests until he was old enough to understand that he couldn’t turn into a fox whenever he wanted. He also couldn’t change his face to scare people, either, no, not even if another child was mean to him. (Mari had gone through something similar until she was able to stop her hair from changing into random colors.)

Somehow, the Japanese Ministry caught wind of a strange boy living in an otherwise quiet Muggle town. A Ministry official was sent to inquire about him, and his parents had to admit that he was a Metamorphmagus who also had kitsune heritage. The official gave the Katsukis a warning on keeping his abilities a secret from Muggles, then told Yuuri that she expected great things from him when he went to Mahoutokoro.

Minako, Hiroko’s old friend, stopped by when she wasn’t touring with her dance company to play with the kids; when Mari left at 11 years old to board at Mahoutokoro full time, Minako spent her visits helping channel Yuuri’s endless energy through dance.

When Yuuri was 7, he clung to Mari as they rode the giant storm petrel to Yuuri’s first day at school. Having had it drilled into his head that he couldn’t use his Metamorphmagus or kitsune abilities around others, he was shocked when the Headmistress summoned him to her office after school (Mari tagged along) and asked him to show her what he could do. After Mari nodded to him, Yuuri turned into a fox, changed a small feather he had taken from the petrel into a gold coin, then turned back into a boy. He admitted to Mari that he had secretly been practicing when he was alone in his room.

The Headmistress was very impressed, to say the least, and asked Yuuri if he wanted to learn more. The shadows of nine tails waved on the wall behind her, and Yuuri gasped and said yes. After getting permission from Yuuri’s parents, she started teaching Yuuri how to control his kitsune powers after school. She did tell Yuuri that it was better to keep his abilities hidden around the other students, though, as it might attract unwanted attention.

(Though Wizard-Youkai relations have drastically improved, there are still some parents who mutter under their breaths about a kitsune Headmistress, and some students who are teased for having Youkai heritage; the Japanese Ministry, too, is harsher on Youkai and their descendants when it comes to scrutiny and punishment. It had been illegal for Yuuri’s grandmother to have ever married a Muggle, so Toshiya and his children are sort of products of a crime and if the wrong person found out, they could be shamed/ostracized; better for Yuuri and Mari to just say they are Half-Muggle (and not a quarter-kitsune/quarter-Muggle).)

Unfortunately, due to financial troubles, the inn had to close, and Yuuri was taken out of school to go to Britain with his family (on Minako’s suggestion– she had opened a dance studio there) before he could start his second year. Mari had a difficult choice– she only had a few years left in school, and it was a boarding school so it wasn’t like she saw her family every day anyway. Even so, she wanted to stay close to them, and so she asked for and received permission to transfer to Hogwarts as a Fourth year.

The Ministry didn’t want to lose such promising students, and even offered Hiroko a job to stay, but the inn had been their passion. Besides, the Katsukis were privately worried that the Ministry might have an interest in their children. Hiroko gracefully declined the honor and got them all the hell out.

They stayed with Minako until they were able to build a new inn– this time catering to Muggles and wizards alike (the wizards had a secret entrance and separate rooms), and it prospered. Japanese wizards (and the occasional Youkai) loved it, and its reputation spread by word of mouth.

Since children start school at the age of 7 in Japan, Yuuri studied Mari’s old spellbooks while he waited for his Hogwarts letter (though Hiroko would only allow him to practice magic in her presence).

At Hogwarts, Mari quickly showed anyone who tried to bully her for her accent, race, or blood status how powerful Japanese spells could be (she received a lot of detentions for it but probably made Mahoutokoro proud). By the time Yuuri started, Mari was in her last year and pretty popular for being a powerful witch and terrifying Beater, and everyone was wondering what her brother would be like, which worsened Yuuri’s innate anxiety.

Mari helped Yuuri adjust to life at Hogwarts, keeping bullies off his back and teaching him spells to use when she couldn’t be there. She took a backseat when she noticed Yuuri becoming friends with Phichit, trusting that he could handle himself. When she graduated, she went to help her parents with the inn.

Though he had Phichit as a friend, Yuuri still struggled a lot with anxiety while at Hogwarts. The Headmistress of Mahoutokoro had told him, when he’d left, that he could write to her at any time; so in his second year, he sent her a letter asking for advice, thinking that she would never reply or that she would have forgotten him by now. He was shocked to receive an answer from her with several suggestions, one of which was something called Occlumency. He got permission from the Headmistress of Hogwarts to take out some advanced books from the Library, and he and Phichit practiced together. It was very hard, though, and the Mahoutokoro Headmistress seemed to be able to tell that Yuuri was lying when he said that he was doing okay. She said that if he wanted to, she could teach him during the summer.

He started spending a month every summer after second year being tutored by the Mahoutokoro Headmistress again (he lived with her and her sister, who turned out to be the Ministry official who had first visited his family), and practiced what he learned at home. Occlumency really did help him center himself while he was anxious, and he was determined to master it to combat his (perceived) mental weakness. When the Headmistress thought Yuuri was ready, she taught him other spells as well, including Legilimency, since Yuuri wanted to master all sorts of mental magic (though of course he knew he should never use it on someone else without a good reason).

When Viktor was 18, Yuuri was 14 and in his fourth year at Hogwarts. After seeing Viktor, suddenly the entire world was brand new and Yuuri had a goal to aim for. Yuuri and Phichit would go to watch Viktor every time he came to demonstrate spells, but Yuuri never had the courage to approach him.

Yuuri took his early life lessons to heart and never showed any hint of his Metamorphmagus and kitsune abilities while in the presence of other students– until Phichit barged into his room while visiting the summer after fourth year and saw Yuuri juggling foxfire in his hands, fox ears twitching on his head. He was hurt that Yuuri would think Phichit would ever say anything or think differently of his best friend (Phichit himself was Muggleborn), but they made up. Phichit was a huge gossip, but not once did he ever mention Yuuri’s secret.

Though he had a rocky start, Yuuri quietly rose to the top of his classes, showing amazing magical proficiency; since Aurors had to be athletic, Yuuri tried out for and got a spot as a player on his House’s Quidditch team. He became sort of a star at school and a lot of people fancied him (including one tiny younger Slytherin who went out of his way to be rude to Yuuri, and even made disparaging comments about Viktor Nikiforov to Yuuri’s face– but only once); Yuuri didn’t notice, he was so focused on his goal. He’d go to Hogsmeade sometimes with Phichit and a few other friends, but spent most of his free time studying and honing his skills so that he could one day meet Viktor on a level playing field.

When Yuuri graduated, he and Phichit went to work for the Ministry of Magic– Yuuri as an Auror in training and Phichit as a researcher (though Yuuri often hung out at the Research department to dabble with spell-making). He and Phichit quickly became Celestino’s favorite newbies. Only the higher-ups knew about Yuuri’s heritage, and planned to keep it that way.

In his third year of Auror training, he was called into Yakov’s office, where a Japanese Ministry official was waiting for him– the Headmistress’ sister. She explained to Yuuri that a Dark witch was gathering power, and if they couldn’t contain her, they might need his help due to his outstanding skillset and unique heritage, and would he please consider helping them? Yuuri secretly wondered if this was the price of learning from the Headmistress, but her sister conveyed that her help had been freely given, and if Yuuri decided to decline the mission, he would still be welcome, always.

He accepted, and received special (brutal) training from Lilia for the deep cover operation he would likely be undertaking, coming in earlier and staying long after the other trainees.

Yuuri finished Auror training at the age of 20; at the graduation banquet, he was too ashamed of his dead last score on the final exam and nervous about his upcoming mission to talk to Viktor Nikiforov, so he drowned his misery in Firewhisky. He woke up the next day in the flat he shared with Phichit with no memory of how he got there, a raging hangover, and a very angry letter from the Head of the Auror Department to basically get his shit together because he was leaving in a few days.

#yoi fic #yoi au #yoi hogwarts au #hogwarts au #viktuuri #viktor nikiforov #katsuki yuuri #harry potter cross dressing tech support au #3au prompts #yoi #my writing #i don't think heart mouth anon is here anymore lol ;^;

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blushvy · 8 years ago

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Reputations: Fred x Reader

*Don’t worry guys this isn’t going to be sad, this takes place during the Triwizard Tournament so your 6th year. You are Draco’s older sibling in y/h and you’re best friends with the twins. Okay that’s it enjoy!*

“Y/n you can’t be friends with them you know that!” Your little brother Draco was always playing tattletale with you.

“Actually quite the contrary Draco I can be friends with whomever I please,” you sassed back. You weren’t going to let your annoying little brother boss you around.

“Father will hear about this!” He shouted and stomped off. God was he a drama queen.

“Right Draco as if I actually care what father thinks!” You yelled back. You loved him because he was your brother and it was kinda required but sometimes you wanted to hit him.

“Hey Y/n what were you just yelling about?” One of your best friends Fred Weasley asked as he walked around the corner of the hall.

“Oh nothing just my brother being an idiot,” you laughed as you said that Fred knew how Draco could be sometimes.

“What did he do this time?” Fred chuckled.

“Nothing in particular just being a dick,” you responded not wanting Fred to know how your family felt about him and the rest of his family. You were sure he already knew but you didn’t want to make it worse.

“Well, if he’s bothering me and George have just made these puking pastels that you could slip him,” Fred and George were always looking to sell you their new products.

“I’m good, but thanks for the offer,” you said shaking your head.

“We should get back to lunch yeah?” Fred asked. Oh shit you totally forgot.

“Oh yeah we should let’s go,” you both started to walk back to the great hall. Fred slung his arm around your shoulder as you two walked.

“Hey be careful buddy someone might think we’re dating,” you reminded him.

“And that would be bad why?” Fred asked seemly genuinely curious.

“Well for me I don’t think it would be but I seriously doubt you want people to think that you’re dating the Malfoy’s only daughter,” you replied.

“Y/n, you seriously think I give two shits was other people think?” Fred seemed astonished.

“Yup I do, you have a representation to protect,” you giggled when you saw the look on his face.

“You’ve got to be kidding? What can I do to prove it to you?” Fred looked oddly concerned.

“Actually, I might have something… No wait you’d never be able to do it,” you said smirking slightly.

“I can too! Tell me what it is,” You had to admit Fred was committed.

“Okay… but it’s hard. You have to go to the Yule Ball with me, prove you don’t care what people think,” you crossed your arms in front of your chest. Fred started laughing, you were confused. You raised an eyebrow at him. “What? Why are you laughing?” You asked.

“That’s your hard challenge? That’s it?” Fred continued to laugh. “You got yourself a deal,” Fred stuck out his hand for you to shake. You were shocked but you put on your brave face and shook his hand.

“Ready?” He asked.

“As I’ll ever be,” you replied. You two walked back to lunch.

People stared at the both of you as you walked through the halls all week. Fred’s hand or arm usually around your waist or shoulders. Even Fred’s sister Ginny came up to you and asked what was going on. Fred couldn’t believe how much attention you two were getting, on the other hand you knew very well why this was going to blow out of proportions. Even with all of Triwizard Tournament events happening this still was being talked about every time you or Fred walked into a room. It was about a week before the ball so you and Hermione went dress shopping.

“How’s this one?” Hermione asked holding up a short red dress with hideous ruffles.

“Awful, put it back,” you answered laughing.

“Oh lord I didn’t see the ruffles,” you heard Hermione groan as she put back the very ugly dress. You picked through dresses looking for the perfect one but you were having very little luck. Finally you stopped upon a blue slightly shimmery long dress. It was gorgeous, not for you though.

“Mione! Come here!” You shouted to Hermione who was across the store. You heard the heels of her shoes click clack across the wooden floor.

“What?” Hermione asked. You held up the dress in response. Hermione’s eyes widened. “Holy cricket it’s gorgeous!” Hermione squealed.

“And it’s your size!” You exclaimed. Now with Hermione’s dress picked out it was your turn. You and Hermione spent over an hour trying to find you a dress. Eventually the owner of the store got tired of you two being in there so he took out a dress that he thought would look good on you (or so he said).

“What do think?” The owner asked hopeful you would say you liked it and leave. It was absolutely gorgeous.

It was a beautiful maroon not to mention backless and flowing. It was simple but not boring. You were in love, you looked over at Hermione who quickly nodded her head yes.

“We’ll take them both!” You exclaimed as you went to go pay for your dresses. The both of you spent the rest of the day talking about your dates and how you were going to do your hair it was great much needed girl time.

(Time skip brought to you by that cool ass dress I found online)

It was the day of the ball and boy were you nervous. Not about the ball itself but the fact that there was a good chance Fred was going to back out. But you did your best to calm yourself down and once it got about 6:00 you started to get ready as Fred was picking you up at around 7:45. You took a shower and got everything ready. Once your hair was done you put on your dress and looked in the mirror. You looked better than you had in a while you thought. When it was around 7:30 you walked outside your common room and there was Fred waiting for you. He was all dressed up in his dress robes and look very handsome if you’d say so yourself. He saw you and his eyes went wide as he looked you up and down. You giggled and did a little twirl, his eyes got even wider when he saw that it was backless. Fred handed you a corsage that matched your dress.

“It’s beautiful, thank you,” you thanked him.

“Not as beautiful as you,” Fred said smiling. You slapped his arm lightly.

“Oh come on that was so cheesy!” You both started to laugh.

“Anyways, shall we?” Fred held out his arm for you to hold and you did. The two of you walked down to the great hall as people stared. You walked past Draco who completely flipped out.

“Look Draco, at least I didn’t come with pug-face Parkinson,” you teased as you past him by. You couldn’t help it you absolutely hated Pansy. Draco mouthed ‘Father will hear about this,’ and frankly you didn’t give a damn. The dance began with the competitors dancing with their dates. You saw Hermione in her dress and she looked absolutely amazing as she danced gracefully with Viktor. All was well until you heard Fred busting out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” You asked confused.

“Look,” Fred could barely finish the word but he pointed at Ron. You started laughing too, Ron looked so angry as he watched Hermione intently. His ears were bright red and the scowl on his face wasn’t a good look for him. You and Fred were laughing way too hard at him but you didn’t care. Finally Dumbledore called all the rest of the couples out to dance and Fred stood and held out his hand.

“May I have this dance?” He asked.

“Of course,” you replied.

The two of you danced for hours, stopping only for food and breaks because dancing that much makes your feet hurt.

A whole lot of time and dances later, there was one last slow dance. You and Fred got up and you put your arms around his neck and his hands were at your waist. You leaned you head onto his chest and closed your eyes, this was nice.

“Y/n,” Fred spoke up.

“Huh?” You lifted your head up to look at him.

“I love you,” Fred confess- wait what?!

“You what?” You asked, maybe your heard him wrong.

“I said I love you,” Fred repeated clear as day. He loved you. Wow.

“Well I love you too Fred, I really do,” you smiled and put your head back down on his chest. The two of you danced until the ball was over. That was truly an amazing night.

#fred x reader #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #harry potter #hogwarts #ron weasley #hermione granger #draco malfoy #george weasley #siblings #fanfic #x reader #yule ball

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underworldobsessed · 8 years ago

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please tell me all your selene/michael feels. all of them.

@katebeckinsalelove

Oh boy, where do I begin. (I’m so sorry how long this is, I get a little carried away when talking about these two, oops)

That first scene, where Selene and Michael lock eyes for the first time. I’m ashamed to say that it took me so long to realize that they had actually locked eyes in that scene. But oh god, just imagine what’s going through their minds when they stare at each other. For Selene, it’s the first time anyone has truly caught her eye, and it’s more than just his looks. There’s something about his eyes, how they’re so sad and emotional. For Michael, not even Sam was as beautiful as Selene was. To him, Selene is mysterious and beautiful, and her gaze was so guarded. He is in shock of her beauty and perhaps wants to say something but is unable to speak, and by the time he diverts his gaze to the subway and then back, she’s gone. He is saddened by this, but also a little relieved, because he feels like she is way out of his league.

The next time they truly come face to face is when Michael is being pinned against the wall by Selene, and I could only imagine what he’s thinking. Here was the woman he was enamored with earlier that day, and now she was slamming him up against his wall, demanding him answer a question he really didn’t know the answer to. And then the lycans come and Michael’s absolutely petrified. All he wanted to do was go to medical school, finish his internship, and become a trauma surgeon, and now suddenly there was this mysterious woman there, who seemed to expect him to have an answer to a question he didn’t fucking know. And then he’s bitten by Lucian, and in the car with the same woman. She seems to have no remorse in hitting Lucian and then drives off with a horrible wound in her shoulder. He knows he shouldn’t be concerned for her after all of that, but he can’t help it, and he just wants to help. When she passes out at the wheel, he’s panicked, because holy shit, the driver passed out at the wheel and then suddenly they’re plummeting into the Danube. He finds Selene’s gun, and shoots through the glass, and makes the decision to save Selene. He’s alarmed that she’s not breathing, so he starts doing chest compression on her, silently hoping that she starts breathing once again. He’s so relieved to see her cough up the water in her lungs and immediately tears off his jacket to bandage her wounds, trying to get the image of her bright blue eyes out of his head because, weren’t her eyes brown? Not long after that, his concussion (or at least bump to the head) causes him to pass out.

When Selene awakens, she’s surprised to see that she’s alive, and realizes that Michael saved her life, dragged her out of the river and bandaged her wound. She looks at Michael, really looks at him, for the first time, and is struck by how handsome he is. She is also touched by his kindness, because after all she had put him through, he still was willing to do all that for her. She makes a decision not to leave him underneath the dock and one the sun sets, she takes him back to Ordoghaz.

Time skip to when Selene finds out that Michael has been bitten by a lycan. She’s torn, because on one hand, she knows the covenant, and she still has this grudge against the lycans, but at the same time, Michael never asked for any of this. The lycans were after him for who knows why, and by this point, Selene was finding herself attracted to Michael. She honestly hated it. She wished she could go back to a time when she could just kill with no questions, but now everything is getting screwed up, and the only thing that seems to be making sense to her is Michael, and even then, she’s still incredibly torn up about her feelings for him. She has to make a decision about whether her loyalties lay with the coven, or with her heart.

THE SCENE WHERE MICHAEL AND SELENE ARE TALKING IN THAT INTERROGATION ROOM GIVE ME LIFE. Okay, so this is their first time sharing any form of intimacy. Selene is telling Michael the story of why she hates the lycans, something only a few people in her life know, and Michael is telling Selene about Sam, a story he had probably not told anyone since it happened, as the wound was still relatively fresh. AND THEN THAT KISS, DAMN. Okay, so, Selene does it to trick Michael sure, but after she walks out, the shaky breath she lets out as she stands outside those doors for a few moments. She’s scared about what’s going to happen. She’s falling for a lycan, something that is completely forbidden. She doesn’t know what’s happening nor what’s going to happen.She knows, however, that she wants to protect Michael from this. She hoped Viktor would see reason, but when she approaches him, he’s angry. He punishes her, not even for acting upon her feelings yet. And I think that’s really what makes up her mind. She hadn’t done anything yet besides break the chain, and yet she was punished for breaking the Covenant, which she hadn’t done yet.

And then Michael gets captured by the lycans, and she gets tasked with killing Michael. She is once again conflicted, because Viktor is her sire, her adoptive father, but Michael had understood her pain in some way, and he had been sympathetic to her despite everything she had done to him. She prepared to go into the lycans den, still struggling to really choose what she was going to do. Yet, as she was there, fighting the lycans, the memory of Michael asking to go with her rang through her mind, and she knew then that she was going to rescue Michael despite what it would mean for her fate.

Michael is trying to get out, hoping that after finding out what Viktor did to Sonja, he wasn’t going to do the same to Selene for his feelings towards her. He hears a lycan coming his way and starts to attempt to break free, when suddenly shots ring out and he sees Selene standing over the lycan’s body. She comes and frees him, and when he says that he knows Viktor will kill her for helping him, she replies that she knows, and that’s all Michael needs to hear. Although in the middle of a war zone, they kiss, and for the first time, there’s no deception behind it, no ulterior motive, just the two finally admitting their love for each other in a situation where their love could mean death for both of them.

And then they attempt to make their escape, and that’s when they run into Kraven, who upon seeing Selene with Michael, shoots Michael with the silver nitrate bullets that he stole from the coven. The way Selene’s heart stops beating in her chest as she sees the silver spread through his veins, poisoning him. She had finally started to let someone in, to allow herself to feel emotions other than hate, only for this person to be torn from her almost immediately.

When she’s told to bite him, she hesitates, even after remembering what Singe said. What if it doesn’t work, and he dies anyway? She figures that there’s little she could lose, and she just bites him. At her first taste of his blood, she’s startled by how sweet it is, despite the metallic taste from the silver nitrate. She almost doesn’t want to stop, for his blood is far sweeter than anything she’s ever tasted before, but she has to remind herself that she didn’t want to drain him, just turn him. And that’s when Viktor yanks her away and goes after Michael.

Michael’s sees Viktor going after Selene, and he gets angry. How dare Viktor go after Selene? The lycan in him is possessive, ready to kill anyone who goes after his mate and goes to strike. Selene, panicking because Michael is going to die fighting Viktor, goes to help. She has an urge to protect him as well, and when she gets knocked aside, that only enrages the hybrid more and he goes on a rampage to kill Viktor, however, he’s easily outmatched, and Selene, knowing Viktor is going to kill Michael, reacts and kills him first. It’s a defining moment, where she picks Michael, the man who has stolen her heart, over Viktor, who turned her and gave her the life she lives now, even if he had murdered her family. The cycle had repeated itself, first with Sonja and Lucian, now with Michael and Selene and she knows this, which is why she gives Michael the pendant, perhaps with a silent hope that their story won’t end so tragically.

#Underworld #Selene/Michael #Selene #Michael Corvin #katebeckinsalelove #I had to stop with the first movie otherwise I would have been going on even longer #If i start on evolution I will not stop I love that movie more than words #and Selene and Michael in that movie kill me

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