#Molly weasley hate sorry bout it

[ronnonon]

TW: attempt su!c!de

Slytherin Ron tries to take his own life and ends up in Saint Mungos. He asks someone to write to his parents, they respond by saying they are busy and will pick him up later, assuming he just got in another fight or something. After two days of them forgetting to come get him, he decides to write to Draco. He just say,

“Hey Drac,

I’m in Saint Mungos and my parents can’t come get me, do you think you could come visit or something? I’ll be honest with you, I’m really fucking alone right now and could use a friend,

~ Ron. W”

Draco immediately tells his parents who take him to see Ron. It takes all of five seconds of seeing him for them to realise what’s happened. The large cuts on his wrist, going down to his elbow, aren’t fully healed yet. His tired eyes, shaggy hair and raw knuckles say enough. Ron manages to get out that he wrote to his parents two days before but they never showed before Naraisca is pulling him into a hug as he sobs for the first time in two years. Draco and his parents share a look, all thinking, “he’s only 13, we can’t leave him like this but we can leave him with them.” It takes another four years for his family to realise he doesn’t live with them anymore and they are faced with the confrontation that they lost their brother and son all because of a house sorting

[wlntrsldler]

where’s my love (fred weasley x malfoy!reader)

PROMPT: Y/N Malfoy is allowed back to live with her family in Malfoy Manor after spending 6 years studying at Ilvermorny. She’s the black sheep of her family and now that she’s attending Hogwarts, she’s doing everything in her power to drive her father mad. Nothing else drives her father crazy than a Weasley, so why not date one? (fred weasley x malfoy! reader; fake dating au)

WARNINGS: none for now. 

WC: 2K+

where’s my love masterlist

HP Masterlist

-

PROLOGUE

“My dear,” your mother, Narcissa gasped, walking over to engulf you in her arms. She hugged you tightly, the tears from her eyes falling slowly on your exposed shoulders. “I’ve missed you terribly.” 

“I’ve missed you too, mother,” you confessed, dropping your bags to the side of your feet to return her gesture. You pulled away, wiping the tears still streaming down her face. “Six years is a long time.” 

Her face dropped at your words, looks of guilt and shame taking over her features. She knew that six years away from your family must’ve been difficult for you. You knew that if it was up to her, you would’ve stayed at home with her and Draco, and studied at Hogwarts as planned. But it wasn’t up to her. 

“He doesn’t know you’re back,” she whispered, her smile reaching her eyes. She squealed in delight, happy that both of her children were now home and for the moment— safe. “He’s going to be so excited.” 

“Do you think he’ll still like having me around?” you asked, nervously chewing on your bottom lip. “Like I said, six years is a long time and he’s a teenager now. What if he doesn’t want to see me anymore?”

“Nonsense, he begs us to visit you every winter,” she took the bags from your hands, ushering you to go up the stairs. “Second door to your right.” 

You nodded, swallowing your fears and apprehensions down. You took in a deep breath, listening to the way the floors still creaked under your feet like when you were a child, running up and down the empty corridors with a young Draco behind you. You smiled fondly at the memory, remembering the giggles of a lively boy with the blond hair and sparkling blue eyes. Draco was your best friend, your baby brother, the one you swore to protect. 

You knew even from a young age that your family was involved with Dark Magic, a practice you were never truly fond of. Your father hated your disapproval of your family’s history. He saw it in the way you were as a child and he hated the way you tried to get Draco as far away from his birthright as much as possible. 

To Lucius, that was enough to send you off and away from the Malfoy name. 

You stopped in front of the unfamiliar door, heart in your throat. Softly, you knocked on the wooden door, waiting for a response from the other side. You heard an incoherent noise from the other side, taking it as a sign to enter. 

Draco was sitting at his desk, back turned from the door. In his hand was his quill, the ink gliding flawlessly on his parchment. He had a drawer opened beside him and from where you stood, revealed piles and piles of sealed letters. You watched him silently, admiring how grown up your brother had become. He was definitely taller now and his features were more defined. He looked like a perfect mix of both your parents, the perfect Malfoy. You wiped your tears from your eyes, your chest growing heavy as you realized just how much you missed your baby brother. 

“Dray,” you whispered, holding yourself together. Your knees grew weak when he dropped his quill, spilling his ink all over the piece of parchment. 

Only one person called him by that name. He turned around, not believing who it was that called his name. When his eyes saw your figure, leaning on his door frame, he stood up, knocking his knees on the top of his desk. He scrambled up to you, halting quickly in the middle of his bedroom. His bottom lip quivered, “Y/N? Is that really you?” 

Shyly, you waved, not even bothering to wipe your tears rolling down your cheek. You approached him slowly, afraid of his reaction. “Hi, Dray.” 

Draco fell apart, rushing over to you. He towered over you now, wrapping his arms around you as he sobbed into your shoulder. He shook viciously, reminding you of when he was a child having panic attacks after his lessons about Dark Magic with your father. Young Draco would rush into your bedroom, looking for comfort from his big sister who always fought off the darkness with her light. You pushed your own fears aside, an instinct you never lost all those years, and cradled Draco in your arms. 

“I-I didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” he sobbed, pulling away from you. 

“You didn’t think you’d get rid of me that easily, did you?” you teased, holding him by the shoulders. He chuckled at your attempt to ease the tension. You walked over to his desk, staring intently at the now ruined parchment. “Sorry bout that.” 

“No, no,” he reassured, pointing at the opened drawer of unopened letters, “This was actually for you. I’ve been writing to you since you left. Father has never let me send any off so I was going to send them when I became of age.” 

Your heart ached, realizing that the letters you wrote to your brother most likely never reached him. You reached down to retrieve some letters, eyes blurring again once you realized he’s written so much over the years. You placed the letters on his desk, walking over to give him another hug. “I missed you, brother.” 

“I missed you too,” he knitted his eyebrows together, soon becoming confused as to why you were suddenly allowed back home after all those years. He watched as you walked around his room, staring at the pictures on the wall. You took notice of his Slytherin robes hanging proudly in his closet. You stopped in front of the picture of the two of you, smiling at the camera when you were younger. You could almost hear your mother’s voice counting down in the background. You touched the photo with your fingers, cherishing the roughness of the material under the pads of your fingertips. 

He thought back to the final moments of last school year, after the Triwizard tournament, after Cedric’s death, after the Dark Lord’s rumored arrival. He began to remember the harsh murmurs and criticisms that people said about Harry— how he was lying about the rebirth of the Dark Lord and how it was all a part of an elaborate plan by Dumbledore to gain more power. He believed the whispers— of course, he would never pass up an opportunity to make fun of Potter— but now that you were standing in front of him, his sister that he hasn’t seen for six years, he knew that it must be true. 

After a while, Draco spoke up to confirm his suspicions. “Do you know why you’re here?” 

You shook your head, confusion evident in your eyes, “No.”

Draco merely nodded, turning his head to the side, unable to look you in the eye knowing that he’ll be fighting with the side you tried to help him escape from all those years. He didn’t know how to tell you that he'd accepted his fate. He’s accepted it for a while now. The dark forces that you taught him to fight against were now a part of himself. How does he fight a battle from within? 

-

There was only one thing Fred loved more than pranking and jokes— his family. He didn’t mean to walk into their conversation, nor did he mean to sneak around and listen to his parents talk about their struggles. He simply wanted a glass of water in the middle of the night. He stopped on the final step of the stairs when he heard his parents’ hushed whispers from the couch. 

“I don’t know how we’ll be able to afford everything this year,” Molly sighed, leaning her head against Arthur’s chest. The fire crackled in front of them, engulfing them in its warmth. “Ginny needs new books this year. The old ones are too worn out to be considered books. We’ll have to dig into our Christmas funds to afford it.” 

Arthur tightened his grip around her, “I’m sure they won’t mind that they’ll have to settle for scarves and vests instead of sweaters this year.” 

“Oh, I know,” she fussed, “Our children will always be grateful but I just wish they were able to have a good Christmas.” 

“We always make it work, don’t we?” Arthur reassured her, kissing the top of her head. “I’m sure we’ll figure it out this year too.” 

Fred tiptoed back up the steps, careful not to make much noise. On his way up, he couldn’t help but start to doubt himself. He and George began to talk about the possibility of leaving school next year in order to start a joke shop. It seemed like a great idea at first, how could it not? It was their biggest dream to start one. But now after Fred heard his mother’s hushed concerns, he couldn’t help but second guess himself. 

Where would they get the money from? How do they know they’ll even be successful? What if outside of Hogwarts their pranks were considered boring and immature? What if they’re meant for nothing else but for the corridors of their school? 

Fred pushed the door to his shared bedroom with George softly, cringing as the hinges squeaked. George stirred in his sleep, an annoyed groan escaping his lips. He was always a light sleeper. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, “Any louder, Freddie?”

“Sorry,” he mumbled, tucking himself back in his bed— only he didn’t lay flat on his pillow. He sat up, wondering, guessing. 

George took note of it, copying his brother’s actions. He crossed his arms over his chest, raising one eyebrow, “Well, what’s on your mind?” 

Fred sighed, looking curiously at his twin, “What if we just stayed at school and worked for the Ministry?”

George let out a snort, laughing quietly in the dark. He froze after realizing Fred wasn’t laughing with him. He gulped, “Oh, you’re serious?”

“Yeah,” he stated, shrugging. Even in the dark, unable to make out the expression on each other’s faces, George knew his brother was afraid. Fred continued, “I mean, would it be so bad? At least we’d make a decent living, right? Help out mum and dad?”

“I suppose.” 

“Then it’s settled.”

“But can you see us working in a cubicle for the rest of our lives, Freddie?” George asked. “Because if you say yes then I’m inclined to believe that you’re actually Percy who drank Polyjuice potion to look like my twin brother.” 

“I’m me, you git,” Fred threw a pillow at George, laughing slightly at his comments. “I just… I don’t know, Georgie. I want to help mum and dad, not add on to their plate.” 

“Believe me when I say that they’ll get a load off once we move out of here.” 

The two boys chuckled at the statement, knowing it was most likely true. They did hog the food, leaving virtually none for Ginny and their parents. However, Ron also ate for a village so in all honesty, it’s not all their fault. A comfortable silence fell upon them, the creaking of the stairs an indicator that their parents were finally turning in for the night. It made Fred smile knowing that they were finally going to get some rest. 

“Georgie?” Fred broke the silence after a while. A half-asleep George mumbled into his pillow. Fred took it as a sign to continue, “You reckon mum and dad would still love us if we started our joke shop?”

“Mate, I reckon mum and dad will love us regardless of what we do.” 

Fred was content with that answer. He moved down to rest his head on his pillow, closing his eyes as he began to drift away. Tomorrow, he promised himself, he would start to come up with new Weasley products to sell next school year. New batches and new designs to start the year off strong. He and George will make money, enough to save for their lot at Diagon Alley, and enough to sneak into their parents’ Christmas fund. Whatever it may take, Fred will somehow find a way to provide for his family. He solemnly swears. 

-

A/N: AHHH here’s my fred fic!!! i’m so excited for this fic. this fic will be very heavy on family name/ reputation. also, draco is good in this fic (kinda) he’ll still be canon asshole draco but deep down he’s a good guy (as you can see in this prologue) 

also, this fic is based on where’s my love (acoustic) by syml

i’m tagging everyone who expressed excitement for this fic but i won’t tag you in the next part unless you let me know directly that you’re still interested! thanks guys!

@cappsikle @you-make-children-cry @bonkyboinkybucky @lionlikewolflike @britishspidey @girlbabyvelez @pillowjj

[malfoymanortings]

therefore i am

SUMMARY: she shared his curse. they were the Duo Who Lived. but while he gets sorted into Gryffindor, she gets placed in Slytherin. she soon comes to realize that everything is not as it was made out to be, starting with the question of why their godfather never got a trial.

PAIRINGS: none for now. if continued, unsure, possibly draco x oc or ron x oc.

another story that wouldn’t leave my head. i began to lose my confidence towards the end of writing this, so sorry that it may seem to end funny or not flow as well near the end. i dunno if this is worth continuing at all, but i’m just posting what i have so far! if you enjoy, let me know! honestly i may just end up deleting this lol.

“There’s not a witch or wizard that went bad that wasn’t in Slytherin.” Ron muttered to Harry and Heather, watching as Draco Malfoy sauntered over to the green and silver clad table.

Heather’s eyes lingered on the boy, before flitting back to continue watching the sorting. Harry was sorted before her. He looked nervous as he walked to the wooden stool, and the hat remained on his head for a minute longer than it had with the rest. The hat suddenly burst out, “GRYFFINDOR!”. A grin broke across Harry’s face, and he walked to the cheering Gryffindor table.

Heather felt the knots in her stomach lesson. Her brother had been sorted into Gryffindor house. That surely assured her a place in the same house. The thought took away some of her nerves, and she walked rather confidently up to the worn stool to have the old hat placed on her head.

‘Ahh, another Potter,’ the voice of the hat mused in her head. ‘Much like your brother, you have a thirst to prove yourself. You have a desire for knowledge, and wish to find out more about your parents..’

The hat was correct. Ever since she had found out that her parents were magical, she wanted to know everything about them and the world they had lived in. The resentment she harbored towards her aunt and uncle had grown and blossomed into a burning hatred. They had kept the knowledge from her and Harry because they were scared. They knew the twins were superior to them. They weren’t just mere muggles, she thought with disgust.

‘Seems as though you don’t care much for muggles, eh?’ the hat said lightly. ‘You wish to prove yourself, and your wish for knowledge is quite strong, you appear to be a bright young witch. Ravenclaw or Slytherin would be best for you..’

There’s not a witch or wizard who went bad that wasn’t in Slytherin. Ron’s words floated through her head again, and she was saddened as she realized Gryffindor wasn’t even an option for her. 

She began pleading with the hat, not Slytherin, not Slytherin, please. What if she ended up evil, like Voldemort? Or a pompous arse like Malfoy? Knowing she would no longer have her twin throughout her years here, she wanted -no, needed- to be accepted, to be liked, here at Hogwarts. There would be no Dudley spreading rumor's about her and Harry, warding off any chance of friends. 

‘Not Slytherin, eh? You could be great, you know, it’s all here in your head. And Slytherin will help you on your way to greatness, there’s no doubt about that.’

The wording gave her pause. The hat had said great, not evil. But what was the difference between great and evil? How did one ensure they wouldn’t slip past the line and land themselves in evil?

‘We are all the master of our own future,’ the sorting had replied with a chuckle. ‘It all depends on what a person intends to do with their greatness.’

Slytherin was a powerful house, she knew that. It definitely could lead her to greatness, to power… and if she intended on not becoming dark, well, then couldn’t she just be great?

‘Sounds like we have an answer,’ the hat chuckled once more. “SLYTHERIN!”

She opened her eyes, immediately searching the hall to find her brother's same green eyes staring horrified at hers. Offering him a weak smile, she slid off the chair, and made her way with her head down to the Slytherin table. 

There was no eruption of cheers like there had been for Harry. Slytherin clapped heartily, while the rest of the tables had a scattering of claps and a cluster of whispers. Her cheeks flamed red, and her long red hair fell over her face like a curtain. 

Sorry, Harry, she thought desperately, fighting the tears that threatened to spill out.

She had to be strong. She couldn’t be weak, that would get her nowhere, just like the one time she had burst into tears when Dudley had shoved her roughly to the ground in front of their entire elementary school. The courtyard had laughed at her, and Piers had sharply kicked at her ribs. 

That couldn’t happen here. She straightened her back, and fixed what she hoped was an expression reminiscent of the mask of indifference that Aunt Petunia wore when she was forced to attend a parent teacher conference for the twins. 

“Potter in Slytherin, huh?” Malfoy raised a brow as she sat across from him. “Surprised you aren’t with the muggle loving Weasley’s like your brother.”

“Maybe it’s because I’m not a muggle lover,” her voice matched his nastiness, and she twisted the word as it came from her mouth. “You don’t know anything about me, Malfoy.”

The table oohed at her words, and Malfoy glowered at her, his lip lifted in a sneer. She gave him one in response. She would be damned if this disgusting little rat put her down the same way she had let Dudley all those years. There was no fear of Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon here. There was only an endless possibility of power and greatness, and she would do her best to achieve both.

She spent the rest of her year at Malfoy’s throat, the two of them constantly arguing and bickering about something. They matched each other neck in neck with grades, Hermione Granger being the only one to beat the both of them. Malfoy was utterly disgusted by the fact that a muggle born was able to outsmart a pureblood, and Heather loved to dangle that fact over his head.

Heather quickly gained a decent friend group, rivaling the popularity Malfoy had obtained. At first everyone was interested in being her friend because she was part of the Duo Who Lived, and once that allure faded, she was left with a handful of people who truly enjoyed her company. 

Daphne Greengrass and Theodore Nott were her closest friends, just as Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini were Malfoy’s closest friends.

Due to Harry involving her in his first year escapades with the philosopher's stone, she was tentative friends with Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. As in, they tolerated each other's presence for the sake of Harry. 

Part of her had toyed with the idea of truly befriending the two, just to get on Malfoy’s nerves even more, but not only would that risk her status on Slytherin, she also simply didn’t like the two. Ron hated her on the mere fact of her being a Slytherin, and Hermione she was just jealous of. The only thing she liked about the two was that they had accepted her brother with open arms and treated him kindly, Ron had even made him a near member of his family.

Sometimes she would get upset at the thought, for it seemed Harry didn’t need her anymore, but she was the first one he had told about the stone. She was the first one he had brought to the mirror of erisid. He had even invited her to Hagrid’s hut, although she had declined. The gamekeeper wasn’t very fond of her anymore after her sorting.

Summer had come and gone, the Weasley’s had come to rescue them from the Dursley’s, who had all but decided to starve the twins, and placed bars on their windows. All because of Dobby, the house elf, who had ruined the muggle's night with some supposedly important business man from Vernon’s work.

Heather had thought it was utterly ridiculous. They were muggles! None of them were important, really.

The Weasley’s were rather nice for being ‘blood traitors’, as Malfoy had called them. The twins had taken a liking to her, much to Ron’s chagrin. Molly was lovely as always, and treated her no differently despite her being a Slytherin. Arthur had nearly had a heart attack when he saw her sitting at their breakfast table, turning to Molly with a horrified expression as he had asked if they had had another child she hadn't told him about. 

When they had gone to Diagon Alley to get their school supplies, they had run into Draco who had gotten a head taller and a slightly deeper voice. He and Heather had immediately launched into their usual banter, proving that not everything had changed over the summer with him. He had been thoroughly floored that she had befriended the Weasleys, much to her amusement. 

The second year of school was more eventful than the first, with the Chamber of Secrets being opened. Everyone had assumed she had done it, and when she saw the fear it caused, she played along and pretended she was the heir. Again Harry enlisted her help in defeating the beast, and together they had encountered Tom Riddle. Harry had destroyed the basilisk with the sword of Gryffindor, and she had stabbed the diary with the basilisk fang.

Summer came once more, and this time Aunt Marge was the catalyst for their eventful break. She had insulted their parents, prompting Harry and Heather to have a rather potent bout of accidental magic. Harry had made Aunt Marge swell up like a blimp, causing her to float away from the Dursleys home, while Heather had done something that altered Aunt Marge permanently. She had caused the woman's brain to implode, which made her bleed profusely from her eyes, nose, mouth, and ears. The Healers were unable to fix her, and they had to erase the woman from the Dursleys' memories in order to keep the peace. 

Somehow, the ministry had forgiven the twins for their magic even though it had cost a woman her life. 

Then, in their third year, they met their godfather. Sirius Black, a wanted criminal, who was thought to have been the one who turned the Potter’s over to Voldemort. Instead, an innocent man was sent to Azkaban without a trial while the real criminal, Peter Pettigrew, hid as Ron Weasley’s pet rat. Heather had gone back in time with Harry and Hermione to save Sirius from the dementors kiss, and he filled them with promises of living with him away from the Dursleys.

The following summer was when Heather began questioning the things they had been told since joining the Wizarding World. She began to question Dumbledore’s intentions, especially after their meeting with Sirius. How was it he wasn’t given a trial? Why had Dumbledore not even tried to help him? Couldn’t they have used Veritaserum, or Occlumency?

Whenever Heather voiced her concerns, and wondering why Dumbledore hadn't done more, Harry took it as a personal attack. She supposed she should have guessed as much, being that Harry had a special relationship with the Headmaster. Instead of talking it over with Harry, she kept it to herself, just as she kept her opinions on muggles quiet. 

It was an unusually warm summer day when they received their invitation to go to the World Cup with the Weasleys. Uncle Vernon had very nearly not let them go, but thankfully, with the threat of their godfather looming over his head, he relented. Harry and Heather were packed that night.

Yet five o’clock came the next day, and then ten past five… and then a quarter past five. Heather had begun to feel anxious like Harry, although for a different reason. Harry was anxious about missing the World Cup and not visiting the Weasleys for the end of their summer break; Heather was worried about being stuck with filthy muggles for the rest of the break. 

 Then, as Harry and Heather waited together on the opposite of the living room, there came a great commotion, and Dudley came running into the hall clutching his bottom.

Heather’s heart soared. The Weasley’s had to be the only ones to have caused that reaction. They must be there!

The twins hurried into the living room, to hear a loud banging and scraping coming from the fireplace. The boarded up fireplace, with a fake coal fire plugged in the front of it.

“Oh, no,” Heather muttered, putting the pieces together.

“What?” questioned Harry, his eyes darting over to hers.

“They came by floo.” she slapped a hand to her forehead, exhaling loudly.

Harry gasp of understanding came just as the voice of the Weasley’s were heard through the boards.

“Ouch! Fred, no- go back, go back, there’s been some kind of mistake- tell George not to- OUCH! George, no, there’s no room, go back quickly and tell Ron-”

“Maybe they can hear us, dad- maybe one of them will be able to let us out-”

The sound of fists hammering against the wood sounded through the living room.

“Harry? Heather? Can either of you hear us?”

The Dursleys rounded on the twins like a pack of angry wolverines. 

“What is this?” growled Vernon.

“Well, they’ve tried to get here by Floo powder.” explained Harry, who sounded as though he was holding back laughter.

“We can travel by fire- only you blocked the fireplace with a fake one.” Heather said disdainfully, looking at the offending object.

Vernon’s face turned purple, and Harry walked over to the fireplace.

“Mr. Weasley? Can you hear me?”

The hammering stopped. 

“Mr. Weasley, it’s Harry… the fireplace has been blocked up. You won’t be able to get through there.”

“Damn!” said Mr. Weasley’s voice. “What on earth do they have the fireplace blocked up for?”

As Harry conversed with Mr. Weasley, and Ron’s voice soon joined the mix, Heather brought their things into the living room, wanting to leave the moment they could. By the time she had gotten the first load of their items, she ran into Fred and George on the stairs.

“We can take it from here,” Fred winked, grabbing the trunk from her hands. “Georgie will get the rest.”

Heather grinned, and followed Fred down the stairs. Introductions had appeared to be out of the way, and Dudley had come out from the kitchen that he had been hiding out in. Dudley looked absolutely terrified. 

It made Heather absolutely ecstatic.

Fred slipped back upstairs to help George, while Heather walked over to Harry who was standing by Ron. She noticed that the boy had gotten taller yet, and appeared to have gained muscle over the summer. Yet as he gave her a distasteful look, she knew not everything had changed with him over the holiday.

Fred and George re-entered the room with Heather’s trunk, cracking identical evil grins when they noticed Dudley.

Mr. Weasley lit the fireplace, and pulled out a drawstring bag from his pocket, tossing a pinch of the powder inside. The flames burned emerald green and soared higher than ever.

“Fred, off you go,” said Mr. Weasley.

“Coming,” said Fred, “Oh no, hang on-”

A bag of sweets spilled out of his pocket with the contents rolling in every direction, toffees wrapped in brightly colored wrappers. He scrambled around, cramming them back into his pockets, then waved to the Dursleys and stepped into the flames. He vanished.

Aunt Petunia gave a shuddering gasp, making Heather grin. 

George left next with the trunks, and then Ron. Harry, Mr. Weasley, and Heather were the only ones who remained. 

“Well, bye then.” Harry said awkwardly to the Durselys, while Heather was quiet. 

She didn’t care to say goodbye. She just wanted to leave.

They didn’t say anything. Heather moved to the hearth, but Mr. Weasley stopped her.

“Your niece and nephew are leaving for the summer,” he paused. “Aren’t you going to say goodbye?”

The look on Uncle Vernon’s face when he realized a wizard was teaching him etiquette was priceless and in Heather’s opinion, made up for the extra time spent trapped in the muggle’s house. His beady eyes saw that Mr. Weasley’s wand was still out, and that seemed to be threat enough for him to give them a very resentful goodbye.

“See you,” said Harry, who stepped next to Heather.

“Have fun with the diet, Dudley.” Heather said in a parting, the corners of her mouth lifted in a smirk. Without a second look back, she stepped into the green fire and shouted, “The burrow!”

As she spun through the warm flames, she felt elation in her chest. She didn’t have to spend the rest of the summer stuck with her piss poor family. It was a good start to the school year already.

[callsign-mischief]

Chilly Summer Nights.

Day 14 of ‘A Very Harry Potter Summer!’

@hufflefluff-writer

Ron Weasley x Female!Reader!

Word Count: 2.6K

You were currently running frantically about your room packing your school trunk with everything you would be needing for the upcoming school year; as you were preparing to stay at your best friend's house for the remainder of your summer holiday. Your grandmother called out to you from the bottom of the stairs leading to your bedroom.

“(Y/N)! Let’s get a move on young lady! I sent an owl to Molly half an hour ago saying you would be arriving soon! Let’s not keep them waiting any longer!” 

“Sorry Gran!  I’m almost done, I promise. I’ll be down in a- woah!” You yelped, as you tripped over your trunk and crumpled to the floor with a loud THUD!

“That hurt..” you grumbled, with your face flat against the hardwood flooring of your bedroom. 

 Heavy footsteps ascended the stairs and before you knew it, your grandmother was stepping over the threshold of your dainty bedroom. She peered at you with her hands placed on her hips, brows arched high in curiosity.

“What did you do this time?”

Standing from the floor rubbing your sore knees and cheek, you look at her with an embarrassed smile. “Tripped over my trunk. But I’m okay Gran, don’t worry.” 

“Glad you are alright but- for Merlin’s sake!” She yelped as her eyes left your body and scanned over your messy living space. “You certainly don't know how to pack correctly, my dear. Please do step aside so I can finish this quickly and you can head off. It’s getting quite late.”

 Nodding your head, you step aside as you watch your grandmother pull her wand from her cooking apron before giving it a wave. You watched in silent awe as various strewn items, ranging from clothing to new schooling supplies, flew from different spots around the room. Into the trunk it all went before it was snapped shut and buckled then sent flying down the stairs, landing by the fireplace. Even though you were thirteen years old and were raised all your life around magic, it still amazed you.

“There, much better. Far quicker at that too! Now grab your school bag and Wisp so we can go!” 

“Yes, mam.” You acknowledge as she waltzed out of the room and back down the stairs. Hauling your bag over your shoulder and grabbing Wisp’s pet carrier and your wand from the bedside table, you exited the room, shutting the door tightly and gliding down the stairs with a newfound pep in your step.

Meeting your grandmother in front of the fireplace, she gave you a once over before giving you a loving, tender hug, and ushering you into the fireplace. Making sure you were settled in,  she offered you the pot of Floo powder with a gentle smile. Wisp, your loving black cat, gave a loud meow as a goodbye to your grandmother. Smiling at her, you take a handful of the powder before speaking clearly of your intended destination. 

“The Burrow!”

Instantly, you’re engulfed into flames and your sneakers reach the hard ground of the Weasley’s fireplace below you as you are hit with a quick bit of dizziness. “Gosh, I hate that sometimes.”

With Wisp’s cat carrier in one hand and your trunk in the other, you step out of the fireplace careful to not dirty up Molly's floor. When the dizziness in your eyesight has cleared, you are met with the sight and smell of the cozy home of the family you have come to love and adore over the past few years. 

You barely have a second to walk into the quaint living room and set down your belongings before two bodies come crashing into yours at full speed.

“You’re finally here!”

“It’s about time you’ve arrived, love! We were beginning to think you abandoned us!"

Chuckling at the two people’s words, you wrap one arm around each of their torsos, hugging them as equally tight as they were you. 

“Yes! I have arrived, Georgie. And Fred, that’s pure nonsense! I would never abandon you two! You are my favorites after all…” you pause to stand on the tips of your toes and whisper in their ears, “Just don’t tell your sister I said that. She would hex the daylights out of me once we got back to Hogwarts!”

The twins couldn’t help but laugh and release you from their smothering grasps as Ginny was heard barreling down the stairs to greet you.

“You two step away from her this instant! She is MY best friend!” She yells, running into the room.

“You should have gotten to me quicker then Gin.” You couldn’t help but grin as you were enveloped into yet another bone-crushing hug. You squeezed her back just as hard, beyond ecstatic to be reunited with your best friend after weeks apart. You break away from each other, catching up on the past couple of days leading up to your arrival when Mrs. Weasley walks in from the kitchen with Arthur in tow. 

“(Y/N), how lovely to see you, dear. It was ‘bout time you’d be arriving.”

Flushing red, you step up to her with open arms. “Sorry Mrs. Weasley, that was my fault. Got a late start to packing and Gran had to help me finish making sure I had everything I needed.”

Embracing you into her warm arms, she squeezes you gently (unlike her children), patting your arm lightly. “No worries dear, we’re just glad to have you with us.”

Moving on from Molly, Arthur gave you a hug as well. During your quick embrace, he began telling you all about the long list of new questions he had about Muggles. You couldn’t help but laugh and tell him that you would answer any and all questions he had throughout your stay. Once released from Mr. Weasley, Ginny, George, and Fred swept you away talking excitedly about the upcoming Quidditch World Cup match you all would be attending next week. Barely into the discussion, your ears perked up as you heard two more sets of footsteps descending the rickety staircase. Your face flushed a light pink instantly knowing who one of those footsteps belongs to. 

“What the bloody hell is all the ruckus down here about?”

Glancing over in his direction you couldn't help blushing a darker shade of pink. “Hi, Ron.”

Eyes bulging in shock, his face matches yours, flushing as red as his hair. “H-hey..you..you’re here! Why..w-why are you here?.” 

Ginny lets out a snort of annoyance, “If you can have your best friend here then so can I!”

The twins share a knowing look between themselves before Fred slings an arm around your shoulder smirking at his younger brother in the process, “Don’t act like you aren’t happy to see her mate.”

“I’m not!” Ron yells back defensively. But realizing what he had said, his hands fly up in surrender. "W-wait! No! That is not what I mean! I'm not not happy to see you -I..I am glad to see you! Ecstatic, even!” he scrambles trying to save his last shred of dignity. 

  Harry smirks, slightly leaning in close to the redhead, “Nice save there. Real nice.”

Ron shoots Harry a daggered look as his face flames in embarrassment and irritation, but his anger is short-lived as Molly announces from the kitchen that supper is ready. 

Jumping at the chance to leave from the room, Ron grabs the smirking dark haired boy beside him running away to the awaiting food with the towering twins following them out. Before you can fall in line behind George, Ginny grabs your wrist bringing you to a halt. 

“You like my brother!” 

Don’t panic, don’t panic. “I like all your brothers. They’re all quite nice and enjoyable really. Nice boys each of them are Gin-”

“No. I mean Ron specifically! You like Ronald.” It wasn't a question of 'if'. 

Feigning ignorance you brush off her statement, “Pfft. I do not! You’ve gone right mental Ginny.”

Before the feisty redhead could speak once more, her mother yelled for the two of you to come take your seats at the table. Thank you, Molly.

Sending one last look your way she narrows her eyes in a playful manner, “Do not, for one second, think that you are off the hook about this!” 

This is not good. Not good at all. 

Attempting to forget about the conversation with Ginny, you basked in the presence of some of your most favorite people. Dinner was amazing as always. The food was beyond delicious, smiling faces were seen all around- it was just perfect. Nothing could ever be better than this. You had spent most of the meal interacting with Mr. Weasley. Of course- the topic of choice being all things Muggle but that was all okay! You loved being helpful and answering any questions he had. 

When everyone’s bellies were stuffed to the brim with food, Molly excuses herself from the table to begin putting away any leftovers. Arthur follows after his wife while the Weasley boys and Harry disperse quickly, the twins dashing up the staircase conversing in hushed tones while Harry and Ron make their way into the living room. 

You and Ginny share an eye roll and begin to rid the table of all dirty dishes. With dinnerware piled in your arms, you two girls carry everything into the kitchen and are instructed by Mr. Weasley to place them on the counter top by the sink where Molly was waiting. With a grateful smile, Mrs. Weasley ushers you and Ginny out. You two venture into the cozy living room to see the two fourth-year boys sitting on the floor playing a game of Wizards Chess. Ron is leaning back against the sofa while Harry sprawls out on the floor on his stomach. You venture over to the sofa while Ginny takes the armchair by the fireplace. You plant yourself on the old piece of furniture, lying down behind the redhead and getting comfortable before cracking open a book you had brought with you. He glances over his shoulder, giving you a shy smile before turning away to take his turn. 

The rush of butterflies in your stomach was instant. You couldn't help but blush and move just a tad bit more towards the edge of the couch to be closer to him. You only hoped he didn't notice the shift, not wanting him to think of you as weird but he felt it. He didn’t mind though. He wanted you to be close to him. He couldn’t help but blush at the thought of you wanting to be closer to him too.

After a while, the heads of the home walk out from the kitchen bidding you all a quiet ‘goodnight’ before heading up to bed. Shutting your book, you place it on the coffee table beside you before your eyes slowly flutter over to the boy in front of you. The silence of the house is interrupted when you hear two sets of footsteps tiptoeing not so quietly down the stairs. Looking away from the youngest boy in the family, you see two identical faces pop out from around the corner.  

“Oi! You four come with us!” Fred whispers across the room. 

Without questioning the request, the four of you make your way out of your seats and follow behind the mischief makers. They lead you through the house and urgently usher each of you out the front door of the home into the chilly evening air. You couldn’t but shudder as a gust of wind rushes past you, sending tingles down your spine once you step out. You really wished they had let you grab a sweater. 

Lighting their wands with ‘Lumos’, Fred and George lead you all into the field eventually coming to a stop by a pile of old wood and sticks. 

“What’s all this?” you question as George sets down the box he had been carrying. 

“This, love, is our wood pile for a bonfire! And to make it even better, we have supplies for a snack! It’s a muggle treat, actually. What do you call them Harry?”

Harry chuckled, “S’mores. My cousin Dudley eats them all the time in the summer.” 

You couldn't help the excited giggle that spilled from your lips. You had heard about these but never got the chance to try one! Without wasting another second, you quickly set the twins on getting the fire started while you found yourself a small log to get comfortable on, ready for the fun to begin as you curl up to get warm again. The fire is quickly lit (all thanks to Harry) and everyone begins to dig in to make the famously sweet and gooey treat for themselves. The youngest Weasley son jumps at the chance to follow in your footsteps, planting himself on your small log seat. You peer at him with a wide grin causing his cheeks to flush pink. 

Tonight had been amazing. And although you loved your summer holiday’s, the one thing you didn't appreciate was that the later into the evening it got, the chillier it got. The fire had helped keep you warm but not completely. After seeing you attempting to hide your shivers due to the chilly breezes for what seemed like the hundredth time that night, Ron couldn’t bear to see you so miserable any longer. Scooting closer, he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you flush against his side. With wide eyes and cheeks flaming as red as his hair, you turned to look at him. He’s facing the roaring fire but you could see a content smile graced upon his lips. How is his side profile just as attractive as his entire face?!

Sensing your stare, his head turns. “You okay, love?” Love.

“Y-yeah! I’m great. But w-why?” you jester to his arm around your waist.

"You kept shivering so I thought this might help get you warmed up a bit more." 

Oh.. so he's just being friendly. Right. Of course he doesn't fancy you in return. That only happens in cheesy romance novels. 

He watches as your face falls slightly but before you can move away he tightens his grip on your hip.. "I-it's not just that ya know.." 

"Wait, what? W-what do you mean?" Your heart begins to beat out of your chest. ‘Please, PLEASE be the reason I'm hoping for.’ your mind pleads. 

He clears his throat nervously. "W-well..I um..I have fancied you for quite a while now a-and I um thought this," he nods at the position you were in "was a good way to show it. I-its okay if you don't feel the same, of course, I just wanted to make it known.." The poor bloke was shaking! How can someone be so nervous but still be so cute?!

You couldn't believe it! The boy you've been pining for for two years has feelings for you too! "Y-you do!? I like you too Ron. I really really do!" you all but exclaim, flinging your arms around his neck in an excited hug. Your cheeks ached from how hard you had been grinning and you couldn't help the giggles that slipped past your lips in pure happiness. 

His grin matched yours as he squeezed you even closer to his body, if that were even possible and placed a loving gentle kiss to your forehead. "I'm so glad you do." 

This felt like a dream. If all it took was a couple hours out in the chilly evening air to get where you were now, in Ron's arms, you would happily do it again anytime. Chilly summer nights were not so bad after all.

[ginger-bread-official]

She Was There for a Reason

A fanfic of the battle of Hogwarts from Tonks’ perspective.

-

She was dodging curses, jinxes and falling stone while navigating the castle. It was pure choas; students, teachers Order members all fighting against the death eaters, giants, and... was that a acromantula? Tonks fended off a pair of death eaters form some students who clearly didn’t have much dueling experience.

“Thanks.” one of them panted when she stunned and bound their attackers. she nodded and asked,

“What in Merlin’s name are you kids doing here?” they all ducked at the sound of a near by explosion. “You all need to get out of here now!” She scolded them and cringed at how quickly she’d adopted a motherly tone.

“No we’re of age and McGonagall told us we could fight.” She sighed, not in the frame of mind to argue.

“Fine, but stick together and find some high ground.” A jet of purple light collided with the stone wall behind them, sending shards of stone flying all over. She shielded the three teens out of instinct, and fired at the closest death eater who was dueling Kingsley Shackelbolt.

“Thank you!” the only girl of the three said.

“Get going!” she yelled over her shoulder throwing another jinx to assist her fellow auror. They turned to do as she instructed, but she remembered the reason she came. “Wait.” They looked back to her, “Have you seen Remus Lupin?” she asked desperately. 

“Professor Lupin?” The tall boy asked.

“Yes.” another jet of light narrowly missed the group.

“He was leading a group onto the grounds, but got caught up fighting Dolohov near the courtyard.” he responded. The ground shook and she ushered them away with thanks to Dean for the information.

Kingsley was loosing ground against Yaxley near by as the students headed for better position. Tonks hurtled over the rubble she was taking cover under to aid him. 

“Tonks!?” was all he could yell out in the heat of battle.

“Need help old man?” she hollered back shooting a barrage of jinxes at Yaxley. The death eater stuttered backwards for a moment giving Kingsley the time to right himself. The pair danced in the duel as their mentor had taught them. For a man who trusted no one Mad eye sure knew how to build a perfect team. Crabbe and Goyle appeared to help Yaxley against the duo. Kingsley in these settings tended to take on the role of defense while Tonks charged forward on attack, but in the face of three death eaters he stepped in front of the new mother; the woman he loved like a sister, and wildly blitzed the men. Tonks held the defense, shielding any jinxes and watched as her friend dealt a decisive blow, and cut down all three death eaters. 

“What the Hell are you doing here?” He yelled turning to her.

“Saving your sorry arse!” She responded defiantly

“I was doing fine, and what about Teddy?!”

“He’s with me mum.” A great rumble shook the castle causing them to grab each other for stability.

“You’re in danger.” He looked wildly around for cover, “We need to get you out of here. Why did you come?” He asked franticly. 

“I came for the same reason I joined the order, the same reason I became an auror.” She looked up at him, “I have to help, I need to help.” He understood. They all had the calling in them, you can’t ignore the the cries of those in need. 

“Fine.” he sighed. “But keep on high ground.” She rolled her eyes. He was treating her like she was a trainee again.

“Have you seen Remus?”

“He was down in the courtyard last I saw.” They began to run in that direction, “Took Dolohov off my hands leaving me just with Yaxley.” The pair split up at the great staircase, Tonks promising to look for Lupin from above and stay out of harms way. She was helping some students on the upper levels overlooking the courtyard, fending off any enemies that approached, while looking for her husband. It was all a haze and everything was exploding all around them. She was holding strong against some incoming dementors, and had a few students helping her when she saw something that twisted her insides painfully.

Bellatrix Lestrange was playing with her food.

Her aunt, the one that resembled he kind loving mother, was torturing Neville Longbottom at the base of the great staircase. His screams curdled her blood and pierced her heart. She was taunting him. 

“Ickle Longbottom screams just like his mommy did.” She was sick, demented. Tonks remembered the vile threats she made on Teddy’s life. That woman had caused enough pain. Her wolf patronus pushed back the last of the Dementors and rushed off towards Bellatrix with Tonks close behind. She thought of Teddy holding his beautiful face in her minds eye as she charged her aunt. Neville was Alice’s Teddy. “As fun as this is. Bloodtraitor, I’ll have to cut it short.” Neville was panting from the most recent bout of torture, sweat drenching his clothes and shimmering on his young face. The tip of her wand began to glow green, “Avad-”

“Bellatrix!” Tonks screamed. The older woman paused and turned to see her niece standing at the top of the staircase.

“You.” Her attention was completely on Tonks now, hatred and fury now emanating from the oldest Black sister.

“Neville,” Tonks looked to the young man, “Go help your friends I’ll handle her.” Neville began to protest, “Run! Now!” She shouted as she shot a jinx at her aunt. Bellatrix easily dodged it, but at least her attention was off of the boy now. Neville hurried to the aid of Ginny who was fighting Greyback nearby. The death eater and the auror trades a few curses with Tonks keeping the high ground and landing a some good hits on the older woman. Her aunt’s actions were wild and desperate. 

“After I kill you, I’m going to kill your mutt of a husband and then your precious pup.” She spat out before sending another few killing curses at Nymphadora. 

“If you keep talking like that Remus and I are going to take you off the Christmas card list.” she smirked taunting the woman. A few more curses wizzed passed her as the pair took their duel to the second level of the castle. Tonks was losing ground, but to be fair even the great Minerva McGonagall struggled against Bellatrix.

It was heated to say the least. Tonks felt satisfaction for her small hits and limited victories, but then immediately felt exhaustion from dodging, and shielding from the countless attacks. She had to win she needed to protect Teddy Bellatrix was the looming cloud over everything they did. They hid their marriage because of her, hid the pregnancy because of her. It needed to end. Tonks became more frantic, attacking with the smallest openings, resorting to dark curses and risky maneuvers. She was turning the tide, she could feel it she could land one last hit.... But she was too slow. Bellatrix blasted her back in one of her exposed blitz. She hit the wall hard knocking the wind from her and dropping her crumpled on the ground. Her aunt’s laugh was manic as she charged forward sending stunning, cutting and bruising jinxes at Tonks. She fended off one barely, but was hit by the others. She rushed in close to her niece, grabbing her spiked pink hair with one hand and pressing her wand into her throat with the other.

“I wish I had more time to enjoy this.” She hissed into Nymphadora’s bloodied and bruised face. “Like when I killed your mudblood father.” a pain ripped through Nymphadora. “I took time with his punishment. Days and days I spent breaking him.” She licked her lips at the memory. “But I suppose I’ll have that again with your husband and baby.” Tonks felt the hatred build in her to a breaking point. Her sweet father had died at the hands of this monster. Remus would suffer, Teddy..... no. She thought of everything Bellatrix had done. All the nights her mother spend crying over her sister. Neville’s parents, her father, every vile and heinous thing that boiled Tonks’ blood, and with the last of her strength she raised her wand and blurted out.

“Avada Kedavra.” A green jet shot out and sent Bellatrix flying backwards to the opposing wall. A mixture of horror and relief washed through her at what she just did. Her hatred and fear had taken control she was desperate to do anything to save her family. Her feelings hadn’t settled when the heap that was her aunt moved. She got to her feet with difficulty as her aunt rose seemingly from the dead. The Death Eater’s face was bloodied and her motions seemed pained, but yet she lived.

“That was a good first try.” She turned fully to Tonks with clear pain in her face. “But it’s more than just hate dear.” Tonks raised her wand while still leaning on the wall for support, “Its the joy of killing. Let me show you.” Tonks felt a single tear run down her face. Not for her, but for Teddy. it was his face she held in her mind as she heard her aunt give her demonstration.

-

I hate when people shit on Tonks for going to the battle. She is a good soul who couldn’t stand by when people needed her. I wanted to give a concrete reason why she needed to be there, why her sacrifice meant so much more than her leaving Teddy orphaned. She was a hero and people shit on her because of it. this is the only time you see me admit she died. But I believe she had to be there to save Neville. She would have been the only person short Harry that could have diverted Bellatrix’s attention. She sacrificed herself and Neville was able to aid Harry and the rest is history.

Also as badass as Molly Weasley is, the first time we see her Duel is against Bellatrix, and I think it would make more sense if Bellatrix was weakened when she died at Molly’s hand.

[deepperplexity]

Prompt: 17. Loneliness

A/N: We are getting closer to the end of Snapemas and I wanted to write something I haven't done earlier through this prompt list. Fair warning, it is a bit sad... But I feel like this is yet another subject to shine some light on. There are some cute/sweet parts too! (Written on mobile so the paragraphs are a bit wonky, sorry 'bout that!)

Setting: Christmas party at the Burrow, Snape is approximately 85-90 years old

Characters: MANY xD

Word count: 1814

Warnings: Major Character Death

Masterlist page // Masterlist post // SNAPEMAS POST

After the war, so many years ago, Harry had told everyone of his exceptional work and dedication. He had been celebrated as a hero along with many others. He was acknowledged and people were not so frightened of him back then as they had been earlier. They nodded at him on the streets, the students had asked him to tell them stories more times than he could remember and he had made friends and amends.

Yet, none had found him to be of romantic interest. None had found him worthy of their time and love. None had found him to be partner material and he had never had a romantic relationship. One night stands, sure. But no relationship of mutual love, not a single person to share his life and home with. He had thought, he had hoped, that one day someone would find him worthy but it had never happened.

So there he was, sat in a wonky armchair surrounded by other families and everything brimmed with joy. Except he felt none. He was empty and sad, alone in the world. He knew all too well that once the party was over he would go back to his dusty home and silence would fall again. As it always did. He would cook for one, do laundry for one, clean only the spaces he used and the morning coffee would always be shipped in solitude. Not that it will continue for much longer, old as I am and my body giving way. He allowed the thought to linger. Sure, he could make potions, keep his health up and live to 150 probably. But what was the point of that?

"Severus, dinner is nearly ready. Shall I ask Ron to help you get seated?" It was Hermione who spoke to him with a soft smile on her lips as she marched over.

"I am quite alright to get seated on my own," he huffed with a slight sneer but Hermione only rolled her eyes.

"Everyone, it time to eat!" She called so loudly it could be heard all the way through the Burrow. Just as Molly's voice had once been heard even in the smallest of corners and highest of rooms.

"Come on now, up you get," she said and grabbed him with strong arms.

She marched him over to the table as his back ached terribly and his knees refused to function smoothly. She plopped him down and he sneered at her.

"There we go," she said with a smile as she patted his shoulder.

"Now, don't be a Grinch and smile." Severus could not help but do as he was told since it was nearly a tradition for her to utter those words. She gave his shoulder another pat as the table was swarmed by several generations and it was extremely cramped. But Hermione always made sure he had enough space, even if the newest generation always wanted to crawl all over him. Why? He had no idea. Perhaps all the stories their parents and grandparents had told them of the war, of his part in it.

"Granma' 'mione" Hermione turned at the little girl who stood next to her leg.

"What is it dearie?" The granddaughter of Harry and Ginny had clearly inherited her looks from the Weasley side of the family with her red sparkling hair and twinkling eyes of mischief.

"I wanna sit here," the girl said and pointed to the chair next to Severus. Hermione smiled.

"I think your father wants to sit here," she said and the little girl pouted while Hermione smiled so widely her eyes wrinkled even more.

"Bu' I wanna sit by Uncle Sevy!" She stomped her foot with an angry expression and Hermione sighed.

After a while, and some bickering about who would sit where, everyone had a place in the recently remodelled and extended dining hall of the Burrow. Hermione had done a great deal to fix up the place as she and Ron were the only ones who wanted the place when Molly and Arthur had passed away from old age. Severus had helped with some magical binding spells and such but he had not been able to do much as his body did not age well. Hermione always said it was because he didn't allow enough joy and exercise in his life and he always huffed at the words. But lately, lately everyone had seemed more worried about him and comments like that had stopped coming. He suspected it was because he was truly old and brittle now.

"Well go ask-"

"Of course you shall sit by my side you little trickster," Severus said with a thunderous voice and the girl beamed at him before she quickly crawled up on the chair and Hermione simply scooted her in closer to the table as Albus came in.

"That's my seat!" He said and he played the shocked parent role as his daughter laughed on a giggle.

"Uncle Sevy said I get so sit with him," she giggled with a proud expression and Albus shook his head in defeat as his daughter, being merely 5 years old, was as headstrong as any child could possibly be.

"There is room for everyone," Hermione chided and Albus took the seat next to his daughter as the chair on the other side of Severus had already been claimed by the grandchild of Hermione and Ron, one of Hugo's daughters. Little Mary. She was a quiet child, as in she did not speak unless it was an absolute necessity, but very attentive and brilliant in her own way.

The chaos of Christmas dinner ensued after some thanks had been said for everyone's attendance, and the children begged for their gifts to be delivered after dinner. Hermione, the boss of them all, had shut it down with a few chosen words. So they all started to eat, talk and laugh again. The house was truly filled to the brim with them all. Three generations, four if you counted Severus as a separate one, which surely made sense?

The food was delightful, the children as well. The adults were in the middle of various conversations while helping the little ones. Severus kept a close eye on the two little ones closest to him and helped them as much as he could while Albus's daughter blabbered about gifts, school and the new pyjamas her mom had given her a week earlier - apparently, it had reindeer on it and that was obviously very important to tell him. On his other side sat Hugo's daughter in silence for a long time as she gently ate and listened to the conversations around her. She was also 5 years old and yet she seemed very different from the rest of the children. Less out there and more closed of. Severus found himself to be very attentive to her, even when the other children and adults called for his attention he still had her under his gaze.

Once the table was cleared and the squadron of Weasleys and Weasley-related people had moved out to the living room while the Potters and Potter-related people trailed after Severus was still sat by the table. He was looking out the window as snow fell silently in tiny little glittering flakes. Someone tugged on his sleeve. Hugo's daughter, Marry, wanted his attention. He glanced down at her.

"Yes?" His tone was as gruff as always yet there was a hint of a surprise in there somewhere. Mary looked intently at him, unflinching and unwavering.

"Can I sit?" She pointed to his lap and Severus opened his arms so the girl could climb up into his lap. It was an odd feeling. Not that the children didn't do it, even the previous generation had wanted to sit in his lap - well that time it was harder to accept but eventually, he had learnt to deal with having children crawl all over him. No this was an odd feeling as Mary never wanted to sit in a lap, be hugged or held in any way. She wanted no physical contact with others when it wasn't on her terms. And everyone respected that (even though he knew it hurt her mother deeply). But she snuggled into him, her knees raised as she leaned her side into his chest and he wrapped his arms around her gently. They both looked out the window in silence for a moment.

"Does it hurt?" she asked and Severus arched a brow at her. He was still rather good at that.

"Does what hurt?" he asked and the girl ever so slightly tilted her head.

"Life." Severus gawked at the girl. His mouth slightly open as that was in no way a question someone so young should ask.

"I saw it," she whispered, "the hurt, the bad people." Mary fidgeted with her fingers as she looked down.

"You saw it? Severus asked and she nodded silently.

"Would you like to tell me?" he asked and she nodded again.

"What did you see?" He asked and she peaked up at him.

"I see all kinds of things," she said softly, " some good, some bad, some make me sad. Like you. When I see things from you it makes me sad. You seem sad. It hurts," she said and Severus was quite surprised at how well-spoken she was for her age - and the fact she barely talked.

"Is that so?" She nodded at his words. He gave her a small smile.

"Well, you see Mary, life is difficult. Life is hard. But it is also beautiful," he said as he struggled to find words the little child could understand and also not to tell her too much.

"There are good people and bad people, there is love and hate. Some choose the wrong path and end up at the wrong place," he continued as they both yet again looked out the window.

"I don't understand. You are good but your life was bad? Wasn't it?" Her direct words cut through him harshly yet he smiled as she called him good. Children, unlike adults, said what they thought and felt. No filtering. Just honesty.

"True, my life was not easy-"

"And grandpa's pa was mean to you. But you like grandpa? You protected him? I don't understand." Severus stiffened, how do you know that?

"Mary, can I ask, what exactly do you see?"

"Well, I-" a burst of loud laughter broke through their little bubble and Mary jump a little as she grabbed on to Severus.

She relaxed again, "well I see what has happened, what might happen too. Sometimes it's really clear but sometimes it's hard to see. It's, foggy. I think that is the things that might happen."

"I think you're right," Severus murmured. Maybe she's a seer?

"Have you talked to your parents?" Mary shook her head, "Is this why you don't want to be touched?" Mary nodded, "do you see things about people more often when they touch you?" he continued in a steady, unwavering rhythm of his thunderous yet low voice. Mary nodded again.

"I see."

"That's my line," Mary said with an attempt at a smile. Severus smiled and gave her leg a little pat.

Yet, a thought occurred to him.

"May I ask, why you are willing to sit with me?" Mary tensed ever so slightly.

"Do you want to know?" Severus nodded sharply. He did indeed want to know even though he had a hunch.

"I don't see more foggy things from you and it feels, feels different. Feels like there is no more." Severus sighed, he understood her words. He had felt life slip away the past year as well.

"And the bad stuff, there is not so much bad left in them. Have you, hrm... I don't know the word."

"Accepted them and moved passed it?" Mary nodded that that was what she meant, "I believe so, I believe I've come to terms with those things in the past."

"But not the loneliness, I see it. The empty house. The coffee cup." Severus sighed at that.

After a moment of silence where Mary curled up even more and leaned her head against his chest that rose and sunk with every breath.

"I'm gonna miss you," she said in a hushed whisper. He gently stroked the top of her head, a coldness spread through him as the realisation truly hit him. He was nearing the end of what was his life. And who knew what waited beyond the border between eh living and dead; certainly not he.

"I will miss you as well. But I won't go far," he said softly and she chuckled ever so slightly.

"You shake when you talk uncle Sevy," she said, "it feels nice."

"Well, I have a deep voice. It happens," Severus said with a tired yet warm smile as he relaxed with her in his lap.

"It's nice," Mary whispered and after a moment he felt her body grow heavy as she silently fell asleep cradled in his arms.

It took several minutes before Hermione appeared in the doorway, just outside of Severus view as he was watching the snowfall outside still. She silently beckoned Ron, Hugo and Hugo's wife Ellie to come over. She pointed towards Severus and little Marry who was slumbering deeply. They all had wide smiles over their lips as they watched the scene.

"She's, she's in his arms," Ellie whispered on a suffocated sob. Hugo hugged his wife gently as tears gleamed in his eyes as well. Hermione stepped over as silently as she could.

"I'll take her," she whispered and Severus arched a brow at her.

"She's fine here," he said as he actually did not want to let the little girl go. Not for his sake, no, but for her sake. Little Mary, who never got human contact without an ensuing anxiety attack or crying. Little Mary, only five years old, who had to see things none should. Not only the one life she lived but everyone else's as well. He held her softly and Hermione nodded.

"I'll check on you in a moment," she said and he nodded ever so slightly. Hermione left and took the rest of the crowd that had gathered with her before she closed the door and left Severus in solitude with the sleeping child cradled ever so gently in his embrace.

When Hermione came back over an hour later Mary was sleeping even deeper. Her little hand splayed over Severus's chest and her head slightly tilted where it rested against his arm. she was heavy ad his legs had fallen asleep but he did not mind, no he did not mind one bit as Mary had a tiny smile on her lips as she slept peacefully.

"Should we put her to bed?" Hermione whispered and Severus nodded with a small smile. It was indeed time to let go. Hermione skillfully snuck her arms in under Mary, but the little girl stopped smiling instantly. Hermione swiftly walked out with the little girl as Hugo entered the room with Ellie in tow.

"Thank you," Ellie whispered as she silently cried tears of joy.

"How did you manage to get her to sit in your lap? Please, tell us," Hugo said and Severus gave the couple a tired smile.

"She asked, I obliged," he simply stated. They looked a bit confused at that. But Severus ignored it.

"You have a gifted daughter," he said, "and I do not mean that in the general spew people cast about when it comes to children. I truly mean, she is gifted. You ought to speak with her, and get help." This seemed to both concern and confuse the couple. Severus allowed his gaze to glide over to the window. An old man's pleasure, to look at the world outside.  

"What, what do you mean, Severus?" Hugo asked as he crouched beside him.

"She's a seer," he simply stated.

"A, a seer?" Ellie asked as she sat down on a chair next to Severus.

"Indeed, and physical contact gives her more visions. visions of the past, the present, the future. It's all quite much for suck a young girl. You ought to get her help, allow her to explore and train her ability before it hurts her even more," Severus said and he did try his hardest to do so in a gentle way.

"She told you?" Severus nodded at Hugo's words.

"She, she never told us she, we just thought she, was special. Had special needs..." Ellie sobbed and Hugo looked as if he was devising a plan. Severus did not really concern himself with it as he knew he would not be here long enough to see what happened. He had felt it, and with Mary's words, he knew it. It was all ending.

Once Harry had dropped Severus off at his home and apparated back to the Burrow Severus sagged in the hallway. He was exhausted and he felt as if he could sleep for weeks. It was indeed a struggle to just undress and get ready for bed. But once he was properly tucked in while wearing his most comfortable nightshirt he slowly drifted off to the world of dreams. Little Mary's smiling face greeted him and she took his hand in hers. It was warm and soft, gentle as she tugged him through a field of sunflowers that echoed with children's laughter and the softest of music lingered in the wind.

The living room was filled with talk about Mary as Severus felt himself grow even more tired.

"Severus, would you like Harry to take you home?" Ginny asked with a gentle smile as she walked up to him.

"I presume that would be in order," Severus said and Ginny immediately told Harry who got dressed in coat and boots as Ginny helped Severus get dressed. He felt such disgrace at being such an ordeal but Ginny kept telling him it was no trouble and that they loved to have him with them. He could not fathom why and did not dare to question it as that might have changed their minds. They were, after all, the closest thing he had to a family. How it came about he still could not quite understand but it had happened at another Christmas party many years ago.

His breathing slowed as he found peace. His heart stopped beating as he felt warmth and joy spread through his younger body in the world of dreams and love. His soul drifted away, led by Mary's sweet smile as she called for him to come home and be free. All that was him left the world of the living and his body that still had a face etched with a soft smile. As he stepped over the border and embraced eternity Mary let go of his hand. And he knew, knew he would see her again, in many years when she was old and wise. When she had lived her life he would great her with a smile as he was no longer lonely and cold.

Masterlist page // Masterlist post // SNAPEMAS POST

Uffh, this hurt to write but at the same time, I really wanted to try my hand at this kind of sorrow and joy... This older version of Severus, this lonely version who never got a chance at love in life. but who still managed to find joy and peace in the end.

I hope you guys liked this despite it being dark/sad and different <3

Tags: @lizlil @snapefiction  @morphineisouthoney​ @setsuna-meiou31​ @snapefiction​ @monstreviolet

[Dec:2020]

Want to be tagged? 💚

You can tag yourself HERE!

Or tell me and I’ll gladly tag you! 😍

[adenei]

For Romione as a sequel to your amazing “Go. You go and don’t even think about coming back here.”: BLISS “16” when they find out she’s pregnant ❤️

@my-patronus-is-a-champagne-glass aww thank you! You have no idea how much I appreciate that! ❤️ Okay, I didn’t think I could beat “Go,” but I hope you’ll enjoy this one just as much. Thank you for the idea!! I hope I did it justice

****************************************

Hermione was standing in the kitchen with Ron, looking over the display of snacks, and checking to make sure all of the furniture and trinkets were perfectly placed. They’d moved into the four bedroom cottage eight weeks ago, and had finally finished making it their own.

Their families would be arriving any minute for a housewarming party and to see the finishing touches they’d put on the place. Ron came up behind Hermione and slipped his arms around her. “Everything’s perfect, love. Stop worrying.”

“I’m not worrying!” she countered as she turned around and kissed him. 

“Well, you seem wound up for some reason.”

“I’m fine, Ron. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“You’re barmy if you think I ever stop worrying,” he lifted his hands to play with her hair. He went to sneak one more kiss before they heard the fireplace come to life with their first guests.

As they went to go welcome them, Hermione was glad for the distraction. If she was being honest, she did feel a bit wound up. Ever since baby James had made his arrival, Ron and Hermione had agreed that they’d start trying, and if they weren’t successful after a year, they’d seek out a Healer to see what their options could be.

Of course the year mark had passed with no luck, but life had a nasty habit of getting in the way. They’d become wrapped up in work, and then had fallen in love with the cottage they’d chosen to buy. So, they agreed to pursue a healer after they were settled in the home, and Hermione had all but given up three months ago. She and Ron had talked, and they agreed that even if they weren’t able to fill their forever home with their own children, they’d have plenty of space to have sleepovers for the growing number of nieces and nephews in the Weasley family.

The only ones who knew about the after-effects of the Cruciatus were Harry, Ginny, Fleur, and presumably Bill. Hermione didn't want anyone to know, and Ron had reluctantly agreed, though he hated not telling his parents. He felt awful every time Molly would make comments about when Ron and Hermione would have a little one of their own, and her seemingly innocent prying about when it would happen. Hermione was so strong, always politely obliging her mother in law, but never giving anything away. Fleur and Ginny had also protested Hermione’s stubbornness, but stopped when Hermione said it wasn’t up for discussion.

Now that it was mid October, and they were indeed settled, Hermione had every intention of talking to Ron about setting up an appointment with St. Mungo’s. But she’d been so tired lately with the move and renovations, not to mention her workload, that she could barely stay awake past eight o’clock to talk to him about it. As more family members began to arrive, her thoughts had dissipated and she focused on showing off the house, and fighting off another bout of exhaustion. 

Finally, everyone had settled in. The men were out back on the patio, as the kids were playing on the back lawn. Mrs. Granger and Mrs. Weasley were with Audrey and Angelina, doting on the newest babies in the family. Mrs. Weasley had taken James to give Ginny a break, who was sitting in the kitchen with Hermione. Fleur entered through the back door with a platter in hand.

“I needed to bring these inside before the men ate zem all,” she said, placing the platter on the table. “I made them for you, Hermione, I know zey are your favorite.”

“Thanks, Fleur.” Hermione said gratefully. “I suppose one won’t hurt before we eat.” She picked up one of the pink macarons off of the platter and popped it in her mouth. She’d been craving sugar more often lately, and blamed it on Ron’s influence finally wearing her down.

“Mmm, I just love the strawberry ones!” Hermione said as she took another. Both Ginny and Fleur seemed to notice, but didn’t say anything.

“Do you need anything else while I’m up?” asked Fleur. 

“Oh, bring the sausage rolls that Angelina made over! I love those,” Ginny said.

“You love them or ze baby does?” Fleur teased. Ginny was just beginning to show with her second, very much a surprise, pregnancy. 

“Does it matter? I’m eating for two regardless,” Ginny said nonchalantly. “This go around’s been much easier than with James. I hope it stays that way.”

“Oui, I know how zat goes. But Victoire was much easier than Dominique,” Fleur said as she set the sausage rolls on the table and sat down. “How is everything, Hermione?” she turned her attention across the table as Ginny eagerly added more food to her appetizer plate. 

“It’s been busy with work and the renovations. I’m so glad the house is done so we can finally enjoy living in it. Does life ever seem to slow down?” Hermione responded thoughtfully.

Ginny snorted and spoke before swallowing, her mouth half full of food. “No, if anything it just keeps getting crazier. Just wait until you have kids!” Ginny hadn’t thought before she spoke, but quickly realized her mistake as Hermione’s face fell. “Hermione, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking! I didn’t mean-”

Fleur cut her off. “Still no luck?” she asked in an empathetic voice. 

Hermione shook her head. “We’ve just stopped trying. Everything’s too stressful, and we’ve decided to contact a Healer soon, but it just keeps getting pushed back with everything.”

The three women were sitting quietly, when all of a sudden Hermione caught a whiff of the sausage rolls, and felt as though she might be sick. Ginny and Fleur noticed the abrupt change of expression.

“Everything alright, Hermione?” Ginny asked slowly.

“Yes, I think so. It’s just the smell of the sausage. It doesn’t seem to be agreeing with me today.” Hermione scrunched up her eyebrows in confusion.

“That’s odd, I thought you liked them.” Fleur said.

“I do! At least, I think I do. My stomach must be off. All the stress and nerves from preparing for today.” 

Hermione was able to pass the uncomfortable feeling as they fell into easy conversation about the kids, until another sudden wave of nausea hit Hermione. This time, she couldn’t pass it off. “I’ll be right back.” Hermione got up quickly from the table and ran upstairs to the bathroom in her bedroom. She didn’t have time to shut any of the doors as she barely made it to the toilet before she got sick. 

Ginny looked at Fleur. “Do you think she’s alright?”

“I do not know. She certainly doesn’t seem like herself,” Fleur contemplated out loud. 

“I’m going to check on her.” Ginny got up and Fleur followed.

When Hermione felt that she was done, she sat back, away from the toilet and leaned against the tub. 

“Hermione?” Fleur called. “Where are you? Are you alright?”

“I’m in here. I’m fine. Something must not have agreed with my stomach is all.” She slowly got to her feet, and rinsed out her mouth with mouthwash. Fleur was waiting for her in the doorway while Ginny sat on her bed. “I’m fine, really. Let’s go back downstairs,” Hermione insisted.

“Not a chance. Sit,” Ginny said as she padded the bed. Fleur shut the bedroom door as Hermione did as Ginny told her. “Now what’s really going on? You look exhausted, and clearly you’re not feeling well.”

“I-I don’t know,” Hermione was thinking. “I’ve been so tired over the past few weeks, and I don’t feel like I’ve been doing anything overly exhausting. I’m in bed by seven or eight every night, and I’m still tired in the morning when I wake up. This is the first time I’ve actually felt sick though. I can’t tell you the last time I threw up,” she said trying to remember. 

“Have you been eating more sugar lately? Maybe your stomach doesn’t agree with it,” Ginny suggested. 

“Why would you say that?” Hermione asked.

“Well, I’ve never seen you indulge in more than one sweet in a sitting, but you popped two macarons in less than a minute. You always ration them out for yourself. And what’s up with the sausage rolls? You love those! Remember last time we tried to eat more than Harry and Ron?” Ginny said laughing at the memory.

“Oh, God, that was such a mistake. Maybe that’s why the smell turned me off. Too many the last time.” Hermione chuckled at Ginny’s reminder.

“Hermione,” Fleur interrupted. “When was your last period?”

Hermione looked at Fleur. “What? Why?”

“Just wondering.” Fleur said.

Ginny looked from Fleur to Hermione, the possibility of Fleur’s words dawning on her. “You don’t think…” she whispered.

Hermione thought about it. “It’s been at least...eight weeks? I don’t know. It ended just before we moved in. But my periods have been so irregular ever since the hunt. I’ve gone nine weeks without one before, so eight isn’t out of the ordinary for me.” Hermione wasn’t catching Fleur’s insinuation.

“Yes, but Hermione, when’s the last time you’ve had these symptoms between periods?” Ginny pressed.

“Symptoms? What do you mean, symptoms? None of this matches my period ailments.” Hermione said.

“That’s exactly what we’re trying to say!” Ginny said exasperatedly. “Nausea...food aversion...food cravings...exhaustion…” She listed everything slowly for Hermione.

When Hermione stared at Ginny blankly, Fleur said, “Hermione, do you think you could be pregnant?”

Hermione's expression turned wide eyed as she stared at Fleur. “Well, I guess, maybe?”

“Have you or have you not had sex with Ron since your last period?” Ginny asked impatiently.

“Of course we’ve had sex since my last period! What kind of question is that?” Hermione retorted.

“Fleur, do the spell!” Ginny said excitedly, her voice raised.

“Only if Hermione wants me to,” Fleur looked at Hermione. “Maybe she’d rather have Ron here for this than us.”

“No, no, do it, please! I don’t want to get his hopes up if this is a false alarm.”

“Have you had any of those?” Ginny asked interestedly.

“No,” Hermione hung her head. “I told you, I’d all but given up.”

“Well, all hope may not be lost,” Fleur said. “Lay back on the bed, and lift up your shirt to reveal your stomach.” Hermione did as Fleur instructed. She knew the charm, and had always cast it secretly each month, hoping beyond measure, but always revealing a negative outcome. Her hands were shaking too much to even try at the current moment, so she entrusted Fleur instead.

Fleur cast the charm, and instead of the yellow negative color Hermione had become so used to seeing over the past year, the ball of light over her stomach turned a deep, bright purple. Hermione couldn’t believe her eyes,as the tears welled up instantaneously.

“You are indeed pregnant. Very much so,” Fleur said with a wide smile as Ginny squealed uncontrollably.

“Let me try the charm!” Hermione said suddenly, as if not believing what Fleur had just revealed. Sure enough, the same deep purple color appeared in a ball as Hermione performed the charm with her own wand. “I can’t believe it. I really didn’t think- after what the mediwitch said three years ago. I need to tell Ron!” Hermione’s thoughts were running a mile a minute.

Ginny hopped off the bed, “I’ll go get him!”

“Ginny, do not even think of giving anything away!” Ginny stopped in the doorway to let Hermione finish. “And don’t you dare tell anyone either! No one can know until after we’ve seen a Healer and can confirm everything is fine and the baby is healthy, and will be able to grow.”

Ginny pouted, “Not even Harry?”

“No! Not even Harry. Let Ron be able to tell him. Ron’ll kill you if you take that away from him.”

“Ugh, fine!” she said as she opened the door and headed toward the backyard.

Hermione pulled her shirt down and sat up as Fleur leaned in to hug her. “I am so happy for you both. I know how hurt you were when you found out, and I’ve carried a lot of guilt, thinking I could have done something more to prevent it.”

Hermione smiled at her sister-in-law. “Fleur, you probably saved my life with your quick action that day. I’ll never forget that. I don’t blame you for anything, so please don’t blame yourself.”

“Thank you, Hermione,” she said as she stood up. They could hear Ron bounding up the stairs. “I’ll see you in a bit,” as she smiled knowingly.

Ron entered their bedroom abruptly. “What’s wrong? Hermione, are you alright?” he asked as he noticed her on the bed. Fleur had slipped out and closed the door behind her.

“I’m fine, Ron, how many times do I have to tell you that.” Hermione rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t suppress the grin on her face. 

“But Ginny made it seem urgent. Told me not to make a scene and just go in the house casually. What the bloody hell is going on, Hermione. Why were you three up here?”

“Well,” Hermione wasn’t sure where to start, but trusted her brain to make the right words come out, “I had to come upstairs because I felt sick, and I ended up throwing up in the toilet. Ginny and Fleur came up to check on me.”

“But you haven’t gotten sick like that in- I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you sick like that…” Ron interrupted.

“I know, Ron. So anyways, I explained how it was sudden, and how I’ve been tired all the time, among a few other things, and well…” Hermione held her wand up shakily and performed the charm nonverbally again. The same tiny ball shot out of her wand tip and turned the same shade of purple for a third time. 

Ron stared at the ball, then looked down at Hermione’s stomach before meeting her eyes with a shocked look of his own.

“Hermione,” he whispered, “Are you really…”

“Pregnant. Yes!” She said as fresh tears glistened in her eyes. She dropped her wand, breaking the charm as Ron leaned over her and met her lips with his. 

“I love you. I love you so much. I can’t believe we’re actually...how long?”

“Eight weeks, I think.”

“When do you think we-” he didn’t finish his sentence as he leaned into her and started kissing her again.

She thought through the kiss, and broke away, when she’d done the math and realized when it happened. “I think it was our first night here,” she said quietly.

“Bloody hell,” Ron said, reigniting their snog.

Before they got too carried away, Hermione gently pushed at his chest. “Ron, you know I’d love to keep going, but we’ve got a house full of people downstairs who might wonder where we are.”

“Ugh, why do you always have to be right,” he said reluctantly as he pulled away. She laughed. 

Before she could get up, Ron moved down toward her belly, and gently placed a soft kiss on it, before setting his hand down where he’d just kissed where he imagined their unborn baby to be, growing inside of her. “I haven’t even met you yet, but I don’t think I’ve ever loved someone this much, besides your Mum of course, and I’ve only just met you.” He leaned in to give Hermione one more kiss before getting up and holding out his hand to help her up as well.

Both Hermione and Ron knew they weren’t out of the woods yet because the scar tissue could prevent the healthy growth of the baby, and Hermione knew she’d need to owl straightaway for an appointment. But something felt so right, and there was excitement and happiness that had been restored in her heart that gave her the hope to believe everything would be alright. In seven short months they’d finally bring this long awaited child into the world.

[eleven-times-lively]

The Fight

In which reader and Fred question their compatibility. 💕 masterpost

Summary: You and Fred haven’t been the same since the girls left for Hogwarts. Can you handle the new dynamic after eleven years? Word Count: 3654 Note: I am such a whore for angst so this is one of my favorite chapters so far lol. Thanks to Liv with help with some ideas! Sorry in advance for the cliffhanger, as this is the end of part 2!!! Enjoy!

Two weeks had passed since Cassie and Callie boarded the Hogwarts Express and left for school. Two weeks since you’d seen your little girls. Two weeks since you were surrounded by constant laughter and joy. Two weeks since things had felt normal.

You and Fred had gotten off to a fine start… that is if fine consists of uncomfortable silence and forced conversation. It was as if you’d forgotten how to be alone with each other. Eleven years of constant company can make a couple forget how to be, well, a couple. With each passing day you could feel a divide. Rather than a lovely time of peace, a rift between you and Fred was growing strong, vast, and cold. 

The first major fight happened just a day after the girls had left. One day and you were at each other’s throats. It would have been the twins’ second day of school, and house announcements had finally come around to family members.

“Freddie!” you shouted from the front door, “The girls’ house announcements are here!”

“‘Bout bloody time!” he shouted as he ran down the stairs. He scooped you up in his arms and carried you to the couch. You gave him a quick kiss before settling opposite him and tearing open the letter.

Your excited expression quickly fell as you read. Fred looked at you expectantly. “Calliope Molly Weasley,” you began, “has been placed in Ravenclaw.” You looked up at Fred with a halfhearted smile.

“Can’t say I didn’t see that coming,” Fred chuckled, “why are you upset, love?”

“Not upset, just… puzzled.” You paused a moment before continuing. “Cassiopeia Ginevra Weasley has been placed in Gryffindor.” You looked up at Fred, this time with a genuine smile on your face. However, there were cracks in your visage, waiting to split upon his reaction. 

“Yes!” he shouted, earning a puzzled glance from you. “Gryffindor! That’s my girl!” He was up from the couch, and quite literally, jumping with glee. However he faltered and paused for a moment. “Wait…” his words drew out from his mouth, as if the very sound disgusted him, “two separate houses?”

You looked up at him, unsure of how to precede. “Yeah,” you said just about a whisper. “I know it’ll be a tough adjustment, but if anyone can do it it’s our girls. I’m happy for them!” You were truly excited and extremely proud of your daughters, however you looked up and Fred didn’t seem to be sharing your feelings.

His face was flushed, save for a cherry red at the edges of his ears. He was breathing heavy, and honestly looked as if he was about to pass out. “Two… two,” he was stuttering in utter disbelief. “Two different houses,” he muttered as he brought himself to sit down on the chair next to the couch. His eyes were blank as he just stared straight ahead, incoherently muttering while he ran his hands through his hair. You only caught a few words in broken bits, which happened to be ‘twins’ ‘Gryffindor’ and ‘George’.

You stood up from your seat and crouched down next to him, gently rubbing his arm as you cocked an eyebrow up at him. He looked down at you, a shocked expression playing at his features. His face was contorted in such a way as if to perfectly convey his saying ‘why aren’t you shocked as well?’. 

“Two different houses,” he repeated, this time clearly, “They’re in two different houses, y/n.”

“Okay,” you began, this time your turn to flash a look of confusion, “and? Fred, they’ll be fine. If anything, this will be good for them.” You stood up and looked down at him.

“Good?!” he gasped as if you’d just told him the Hollyhead Harpies lost the cup. “How in the world could this be good, y/n?” He rose to his feet and took your hands in his, searching your face for even an ounce of a shared feeling.

Because, Fred…” you began, fighting the urge to roll your eyes and scoff at him, “they’ve been attached at the hip for eleven years, some separation will do them well.”

“But they need each other, y/n!” He looked at you as if you had ten heads. “Twins need one and other!” He was shouting, whether he realised it or not you weren’t sure.

“No Fred,” you continued, now annoyed, “they don’t. It will be good for them. They’ll have different classes, different friends, different experiences. They’ll get to make a life for themselves that isn’t dependent on each other! How in the world could you say this is bad!?” By the end, you were yelling… intentionally.

“But they need each other!” He repeated the same sentiment once again, still flashing the wide-eyed, open-mouthed expression of shock.

“I’m not having this argument if that’s all you can say, Weasley,” you did scoff this time and started to walk away when he finally spoke a different word.

“Y/n, wait.” He was rubbing his face with his hands. You walked back over to him and gave him a look that quite clearly showed how perturbed you were. He was shaking his head, almost holding back a laugh. “I know you don’t understand, love,” he began, noticing the expression of amused anger that played at your features, “but twins have a special… connection.” It was taking everything in you to not bust out laughing. “Especially at that young, I don’t know if they can handle this much separation being thrown at them all at once. I mean Georgie and I probably only survived Hogwarts because we had each other.”

Poor choice of words, Weasley. “Only because you had each other?” you spat.

Fred nodded his head innocently, not yet realising his mistake.

“Just the two of you? Not me? Not your girlfriend that you had for the majority of school?” You were yelling, genuinely hurt by his words.

“Merlin, y/n, you know that not what I meant!” he shouted back, a culmination of the misunderstanding and his confusion of the whole situation.

“No, Fred, I didn’t! I mean, when you’re sitting here rambling about twins and nonsense, how am I meant to think I was included in your distorted memory of Hogwarts?!”

“Y/n,” he began, cautiously even if he was still shouting, “I was just trying to tell you how important a sibling bond is! Especially that of twins! I mean, what’s wrong with you!”

You looked up at him, shocked and even more hurt, yet the daft idiot kept going.

“I know you don’t understand because your one brother is dead and the other you don’t even speak to!” He continued yelling, but stopped abruptly as his words, and immediately softened, “Y/n, I-”

Tears streamed down your face in a disparaging mix of emotions. “Save it, Fred. At least our girls won’t be living the fucked up utopia that you and George did! Constantly attached and only living for each other! At least they’ll have a sense of independence and can learn to grow apart from each other! Which… if you haven’t noticed… if something you and George never did!” You didn’t even give him a chance to speak, you just ran upstairs and slammed the bedroom door behind you. 

***

Never, ever go to bed angry. That fight was two weeks ago, and you still hadn’t fully recovered. Everytime you tried to bring it up to Fred, you were met with dodgy glances and fleeting responses. However, the two of you tried to carry on as normal with kisses, cuddles, and date nights. So now, two weeks without the girls, and you were dreading what was still to come. You sat up from the couch, slowly waking up from your nap, interest piqued by the lovely smells coming from the kitchen. You made your way to the kitchen where you found Fred cooking dinner. “Hi, love,” you muttered, still groggy.

“Hi, darling,” he responded, kissing your head as you walked past. “Date night,” he chirped, sounding only slightly interested. You just hummed in response. He nodded his head and went back to the pot before him as you took a seat on one of the stools at the kitchen island.

“What’s for dinner, love?” you asked Fred.

“Oh, your favorite,” he said, turning and smiling at you. You only cocked an eyebrow in response. “Look, y/n, I feel bad. I messed up and then wouldn’t bother talking about it cause it was easier to ignore it than confront the issue. I’m sorry.” A blush crept on his face as he looked down at you, clearly slightly on edge.

“Thank you, Freddie. Means a lot.” You returned the smile up at him. “So,” you began, standing up and heading over to his place at the stove, wrapping an arm around his waist, “Lancashire stew, is it?” You smiled at him and looked down, peering into the pot. Your expression quickly fell to confusion as your gaze was met by a thick, orange substance.

“Um, no…” he drew out slowly, “pumpkin soup?” His words were more of a question than anything. “Your favorite dinner. Pumpkin soup.”

You removed your arm and turned to look up at him. Your mouth opened slightly as you flashed an incredulous look at him. “Fred I bloody hate pumpkin soup.”

“What?” He turned to you, utterly baffled.

“It has to be my least favorite thing in all of Wizardom. In fact, I hate anything pumpkin. Taste changed when I was pregnant, hated it ever since,” you expression quickly turned sullen and defeated. “Fred, you knew this.”

He looked down at you, mouth agape, unable to speak.

“Whatever,” you muttered, walking away. “Wouldn’t have expected you to remember anyway.”

“Y/n, wait,” he said, voice tense and clearly agitated. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Well it seems that you’re at the store more and more, Fred,” you sighed. “I mean, how many times have I come home for the day, and you stay at the store for hours more?” You weren’t angry, just… tired. “You know what?” you began, “It’s okay, Freddie. I love you”

“No, y/n. I should have known that.” He was staring down at you, tears threatening to fall from his eyes. “I have to be at the store to provide for us, love.”

“That’s a lie and you know it,” you stated, “Sometimes you’re home long after the store would’ve closed. Besides, Fred, we make plenty of money and you know that. You’d rather be with your toys than me.”

His heart broke. Seeing you so sad and defeated. Yet he couldn’t help the wave of hurt that came over him. “Toys?”, he asked.

“I mean that’s what everything in there is, isn’t it?” You crossed your arms, staring him up and down. 

“Y/n, you helped create half those products.” He cocked an eyebrow down at you, genuinely not sure if you meant what you had said. 

“Sure, Fred, because it’s a business. I don’t spend hours obsessing over it. I don’t spend hours testing and trying everything every day. I don’t spend hours thinking up products that probably won’t even make it to the shelf! I,” you paused, voice breaking, “I don’t spend more time in my store than I do with my husband.” Tears streamed down your face freely now, and you collapsed into Fred’s arms. 

“Is that how you really feel?” Fred murmured, guiding you over to the couch. You just nodded your head in response, trying to choke back a sob.  “Love, I-... I’m sorry.” There was a long moment of silence. Him holding you in his arms, shaking and sobbing as his own tears flowed as well. “I was never trying to be neglectful, y/n. Please, please know that. I… I just needed to get away I suppose. I mean not from you of course. Just… my mind. Being there with George, and sometimes alone, actually. I’d be distracted, focused on the store or a product, and not thinking,” he sighed, and the weight that came off his shoulders was almost tangible.

“But why was I not enough,” you whispered. “Why couldn’t I distract you? Be there for you?”

He took a deep breath in before continuing. “Cause you’re a reminder, y/n.” 

“Fred, what?”

“They look just like you, act like you, sound like you. Everytime I look like you, I see our girls. And, and it’s not just that y/n. I haven’t felt happy lately.” You looked up at him, a mixture of confusion and dread spreading across your face. “Not… not with our marriage. That’s… fine. I just… I don’t know,” his voice grew quiet and slow. He took a deep breath in, shaking as he went. “I just feel different, and I don’t know why. It’s not the same and I’m not… handling it, y/n.” He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head. He pulled you into him closely, not letting go for anything. 

“Well let’s change that, Freddie,” you turned and looked up at him. You were met with his puffy, tear stained face adorned with a cocked eyebrow and upturned nose. “We’ll do something we can have fun and enjoy doing. Some of these rooms could use a new coat of paint.”

He gave you a soft smile, appreciative of your efforts. “Painting it is, then.” He stretched out to lay down on the couch, pulling you with him. The two of you drifted off into a relaxed sleep after a while, forgetting any responsibilities and settling in the feeling of normalcy… a connection that had been missing for weeks.

***

Fred groaned as he rolled over, waking up to the early morning sunshine flooding in through the window. He was met with cold sheets and an empty bed. He stood up, rubbing his eyes and stumbling into his slippers. He had a good morning stretch and wandered downstairs. He was met with you, standing at the bottom of the steps, staring up at him with bright eyes and a big smile. 

“Morning, love,” you said bounding over to him and jumping into his arms.

“Hey, y/n,” he said, chuckling lightly. He hugged you and wandered into the kitchen, where you already had his tea ready for him. “What’s this about, love?”

“Well,” you began, taking a seat across from him, “I figured we could paint today.”

He gave you a warm smile as he sipped his tea, fully waking up. After a while he stood, placing his hands on your hips. He looked down at you, smiling before placing a warm, sweet kiss on your lips. You reciprocated, humming into his touch. You separated and took a step back, staring up at your husband. Everything felt right, whole, complete for the first time in weeks. 

You guided him into the living room where you had the paints and supplies set up. “Well, here it is!” you chirped excitedly.

He chuckled, crouching down to examine the paints. “Which rooms are we doing, love?”

“I was thinking the kitchen, living room, and the front hallway.”

He nodded in approval, turning one of the jars over in his hands. His face contorted, features pinched tightly together. “Grey?” he asked, sounding perturbed and confused at the same time. 

“Yeah…” you responded, turning an eyebrow at him. 

“Beige?” he asked, lip upturned in disgust.

“Yes, Fred, what’s the issue?”

“So… boring,” he finally looked up at you, face shifted as if he smelled a horrible scent. “These aren’t real colors, y/n.”

“Real colors?” you chuckled, “pretty sure they are, Freddie.” You grabbed the grey and got to work on the living room wall.

“Wait,” he said, standing to meet you, “I mean no green, no red, not even a blue?”

“These are mature and modern, Fred. There’s nothing sophisticated about a primary color.

He scoffed at you, “Y/n we could have done an emerald green, and muted bluish grey, even a deep maroon. I’m not asking for Gryffindor red, here. But I’d rather not be suffocated by despair in my own home if that’s alright.”

“Bit over dramatic if you ask me, Fred,” you murmured, continuing your painting.

He rolled his eyes and got to work with the beige in the kitchen. After a while of heavy silence, his pettiness took over. “Hey, y/n,” he called out, walking over to you.

“Hmm?” You responded, now focused on the front hallway. He crossed over to the finished living room wall, holding up in paintbrush. “I think this grey is a bit too flashy, don’t you think, love?” You turned and looked at him just as he spread a stripe of beige onto the fresh, grey wall. “This dull enough for you?” He flashed an indignant look before smirking and returning to his work. 

You stood there, mouth agape, not sure how to react. So, doing what any reasonable adult would do, you walked over to him and painted a grey stripe on his beige wall.  He just rolled his eyes and kept going, unfazed. You huffed and walked away, leaving him smirking. 

***

Over the next weeks the tension between you and Fred continued to grow. Every day there was either a petty spat, or an exchanged that would leave one of you defeated and disappointed. 

One day you were in Wizarding Paris gathering some supplies and Fred decided to plan a surprise for your return. You came home to a trail of red rose petals from the doorway into the center of the house, where whole roses were tossed about and Fred was standing in a suit with soft music in the background. You were absolutely enamored, until he made the comment, “I know red roses are your favorite, so I had mother help me gather as many as we could find.” 

You stood hesitating for a moment, “Fred my favorite is a peach rose, not red.” You stared up at him, tears from a mix of joy and sadness pricking at your eyes, “Fred they were our wedding flowers.” You tried to brush it off and enjoy the night, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that you and Fred were starting to lose touch. The night ended with him getting upset over you not enjoying the surprise and not being appreciative of his efforts, even when he tried. 

Another time you and Fred were in the store, planning for the release of a collaborative collection with Madam Malkins. You had rescheduled a development meeting without telling him, hoping to get some of your designs past Fred. This led to months of sly, petty plays between the two of you. Whether it be one of you not showing up to work, or not restocking a product, or not counting the days galleons, you and Fred were finding new ways to mess with each other. 

The new, dangerous dynamic finally came to a head just before the girls would be returning for Christmas break. You were in the backyard gardens, tending to the various year-round plants and dusting snow off of the decor. Unbeknownst to you, Fred was creeping up behind you, a snowball in hand. He tried to hold in a laugh as he hurled the snowball, hitting you square in the back.

“Fred!”, you shrieked, turning to face him. Your face was beat red as your nostrils flared.

He was laughing until he saw your face. “Merlin, love, did I hurt you?”

“What? No. But what the bloody hell was that for?”, you helped, throwing your arms up in question at him. 

“I-... it’s… snowball fight?” He rubbed his hands together, both out of nerves and a defense against the cold. 

You rolled your eyes, muttering under your breath as you turned back to your work.

“You know what?”, he began in a terse tone that compelled you to face him once again. “Enough, y/n. I’ve had enough.”

“Pardon?”

“I miss having fun, y/n! We used to be a happy and fun couple! We went out with friends, we got into trouble! We. Had. Fun! And now we live in this… this fucking charade! Are we even happy with each other?!” He yelled, face growing increasingly red as he turned and went inside.

You followed him in, slamming the door behind you. “Having fun!?”, you retorted, screaming as well, “Fred, you git, we’re thirty five years old with two kids!! There is no fun anymore, just parenting and real life shit!”

“And that’s exactly what’s wrong, y/n!” he yelled back, “This horrible attitude! Ever since you had those kids you’ve… changed! Changed into someone I don’t even recognize anymore!” Tears began to stream down his face at the utterance of his final sentence.

His words made you cry as well. “Those kids?! Fred Weasley they are your daughters, too! And think about how I feel! The fact that you haven’t changed! You’re still witty and crafty and energetic, and Fred I just can’t keep up with you anymore!! We aren’t in Hogwarts anymore, our children are, so you need to drop this childish attitude and fast!”

“What about our entire relationship that was built on wit and energy and childish fun?!”, he shot back, voice breaking, “All of the jokes and laughter, doesn’t that mean anything to you anymore!?? It’s what bonds us together, and now you just want to leave it behind like it isn’t what made us fall in love!”

“Are we even in love anymore?! I loved you for your wit and intelligence and creativity, yes, but those can be applied elsewhere! Stop acting like a child and act like the adult you’re supposed to be!” “You aren’t my partner in crime anymore. You aren’t the same woman I fell in love with. I want a divorce.” And with that he apparated away into the succumbing abandon of the wizarding world.

@it-was-three-am @hess016

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