#Muggleborn

[ziaverse]

‘why do you read “various x reader stories?”’

first, i’m a narcissist and will not read it if it’s not about me

second, I love the feeling of people liking me

third, I was ignored as a child

[crescentofthegods]

DISSIPATION!

pairing: draco malfoy x muggleborn!slytherin!fem!reader

request: devastion overwhelmed you completely once you witnessed how draco, your boyfriend, was unable to defend you after his friend called you a mudblood.

word count: 2,472

warnings: ANGST, swearing as usual hehe, goyle being a cow, draco being a DICK and also calling reader a mudblood but its for your own good woah, a bit of fluff before the angst but there is NOT a happy ending, all this goes down on reader's birthday, unfortunately not proofread again (it's 1am in the uk im SORRY)

author’s note: i looooved writing this request, goodness gracious me. HOPE YOU LIKE IT ANON, i put my own little twist in it if you dont mind, draco DOES call reader a mudblood towards in their argument dw<3 also theres a little easter egg from one of my other fics, youre a real one if you notice hehshhs

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IN THE SPAN OF SIX MONTHS, your private friendship with Draco had blossomed into something more beautiful—a real relationship where you got to call him your boyfriend. However, there was a downside to the two of you dating… Draco made you promise that you wouldn’t tell anyone; you knew deep down that this should’ve been a red flag, that if he really loved you, he wouldn’t be afraid to tell anyone about you, about your love.

            Too bad that your naivety got the better of you.

            Sitting on the cold, stone floor of the Astronomy Tower, you tried to stifle your sobs of despair, but it was no use. Tears of your turmoil trickled down your cheeks like the waterfalls you always adored gazing at whenever you went hiking with your parents—today wasn’t the special day you had planned it to be.

            After all, it was your birthday. Your seventeenth to be precise.

            You weren’t expecting a lot, in all honesty. Just a day of happiness, spent with your closest friend… and even your boyfriend, Draco. Most of all, he had promised you—

            “I can’t believe I turn seventeen in a few days,” you whispered, more to yourself if anything as you burrowed into your beloved boyfriend’s chest, hiding away from the rest of the world… The tips of his fingernails slowly traced a line up your spine, creating a rather ticklish sensation, your quiet giggles sounding like the vocal music of the angels in Draco’s mind. He brought you closer (you didn’t think that had even been possible, not with how close you both already were) his arms wrapping tighter around your waist, his chin making a home in your many locks of hair.

            He had snuck you into his dorm. Since you were both in the same House, it was easier said than done—Theo and Blaise decided to attend class for once, so Draco took his chances.

            “Mhm,” a small smile touched his lips as he hummed, his grey eyes peering at you—he had always cherished how you fit so perfectly against him. Like he was made for you, and you him. “I bought you something, actually.” Though, as soon as those words left his lips, he immediately regretted saying them in the first place, seeing how you sat up within an instant, your wide, bright eyes meeting his.

            “What?—Why? You know I hate it when you buy me things,” you frowned, though it looked more of a pout in Draco’s eyes, his small smile widening into an amused grin.

            “And why is that? Am I not a good enough gift giver for you?” his teasing voice prompted you to roll your eyes, the heel of your hand colliding with his chest, almost like you were shoving him playfully.

            “No, you always buy really… expensive things—don’t your parents wonder where the money’s going?” you asked, your tone sounding a little more serious now. He hated how concerned you grew whenever it came to the people in his life—but, it was basically his fault. Sometimes, he thought about how it would’ve been better if he’d decided not to pursue this relationship with you.

            But, for once, he wanted to be more selfish than usual. Everyone that feared Draco seemed to conclude that he always got what he wanted, but that was not the case.

            He got lucky with you.

            “Don’t worry about my parents,” was all he said; his expression didn’t say much, but you could tell he didn’t want to continue this particular conversation. Initially, your heart dropped, worried that you had overstepped a boundary—though, the way his fingers intertwined with yours, the way his thumb rubbed the gentlest of circles across your skin… it caused your anxious feelings to dissipate.

            They never really go away. They just… stick to the surroundings. Hence why your inner voice used the term ‘dissipate’. Your mind always knew better than your soul, always two steps ahead…

            “Can you at least tell me what the gift is?” your question was much more softer this time, smiling because of how warm he made you feel—how warm his hand felt against yours. You wanted to ask another question; something that probed at your mind recently was how he always wore long sleeved shirts around you now. It wasn’t a problem entirely, it merely sparked worry inside you. In spite of that, you supposed that attempting to ask would only push him away.

            Draco was confusing in that sense. Your love for him, however, overpowered that.

            “Of course not, my heart,” murmured Draco, his grey eyes twinkling with his usual charm. Using that nickname that always made your soul melt like fresh honey. “It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you.”

            “You’re the bloody worst,” you groaned, his deep chuckle flipping your organs inside out as you collapsed against him once again, snuggling into the cotton of his grey jumper.

            Tell me about it, was what he wanted to reply, but he stopped himself. It was a happy moment. A moment of peace for once in his fucked up life. He wouldn’t ruin it.

            Not with you, the only person who believed in him.

            —That was before you stumbled upon a conversation with Draco and his friends today. Being a Muggleborn sorted into the House of Slytherin was clearly a set up from bloody Merlin himself. Unsurprisingly, you had more friends outside of Slytherin; a lot of the Hufflepuffs, thankfully, were sympathetic to your situation. That afternoon of your birthday, you had walked out of the girls’ dorms, relieved that you had found your Transfiguration homework, heading straight towards the Common Room…

            And, that was when you heard it.

            Gregory Goyle saying your name.

            “What are you so hot and bothered about?” Crabbe nudged Goyle, seeing how visibly peeved the latter appeared to be after exiting the boys’ rooms. Draco wasn’t particularly interested in the conversation after his little… rendezvous at the Room of Requirement. He simply sat in an armchair, playing with his silver bracelet.

            It had a butterfly charm, actually. Your middle name, translated from Latin, meant ‘butterfly’. For your birthday, which was today, he had bought you a dragon charm since ‘Draco’ meant ‘dragon’ in Latin. However, you wore yours on a sterling chain around your neck, wanting it to be hidden—no one would believe that you could afford something like that.

            “Snape teared me a new one,” he grumbled, plopping himself down onto the velvety green sofas with a huff. Crabbe pulled a face.

            “You mean tore—”

            “—Shut up. Anyway, he saw how shitty my grades were and now he’s forcing me to get a tutor! Fucking unbelievable,” Goyle muttered under his breath, running a hand through his extremely thin curls, leaning his head back as Crabbe replied.

            “Nothin’ wrong with that. I’m being tutored too,” he shrugged, sitting beside him as he fiddled with his watch. Releasing an irritated ebb of air, Draco also leaned his head back, wondering how long he was going to endure this pointless discussion.

            “You’re not being tutored by that mudblood, [Y/L/N].”

            That was when you heard it. Standing under the doorway that led towards the Common Room. It was nothing new, being insulted with that term. Nevertheless, your eyes fell on Draco, seeing the way he picked his head up slightly at the mention of you.

            You waited. For a good few moments. Hoping. Praying that he would defend you.

            And, a few seconds later, he laughed, bearing his pearly whites and all.

            “Yeah, good luck with that. She’s a real fucking brown noser, that one.”

            By that point, your mind was blocking out every sound that followed Draco’s words—you made a run for it, not even bothering to look at your so-called boyfriend, dashing out of the Slytherin Dungeons before fleeing to the Astronomy Tower. You had tried to keep it in, your tears, your sorrow—it was all too much.

            To make matters worse, he had fucking followed you. As soon as he made sure that his lackeys couldn’t question him, he’d tried to catch up to you, but you were always the quicker one. If you weren’t so obsessed with academics, you’d make a real good Chaser for the Slytherin Quidditch Team.

            There Draco Malfoy stood, watching your hysteric sobs consume you, your head in your hands—he knew that you’d be upset; in fact, he knew you’d been listening the entire time. He noticed you before you had even become the topic of conversation.

            He always noticed you.

            And now, you had noticed him. Your gaze lifting momentarily, only for it to widen at the sight of your boyfriend standing there with the blankest of expressions. Sniffling to yourself, you stood up from your seat on the ground, your expression one of clear torment.

            Anger. Anger consuming you because you didn’t know why you were putting yourself through this. Dating one of the richest Purebloods a part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. When you were only a measly Muggleborn. A Mudblood.

            Even so, the same weight of dissipated dejection weighed over you. Why did he ask you out? Why did he become friends with you in the first place if this was how he saw you? If this was how it was going to be? Him pretending to care about your blood status in front of his good-for-nothing friend group.

            Maybe, after all this time, it wasn’t a pretense. Perhaps this was a prank he’d instigated just to humiliate you.

            Numerous possibilities. Numerous outcomes. They all filled your head like snakes in a vat of thick, torturous tar.

            Your voice broke the silence.

            “I don’t understand you,” your first statement filled the atmosphere like a hot vapour, suffocating not just you, but the other person in the room—Draco. Your tears had stopped, cheeks still wet with your misery as you stared at him, not just with passionate feelings of indignation, but more so disbelief. And he couldn’t handle it.

            I should’ve done this earlier.

            “Really?” His voice was quiet. Almost noiseless, like he was calculating the best way for this to go. “I don’t think you’ve ever understood me, my heart.”

            That nickname. The nickname reserved for you and you only. There was once a time where it would make your insides all warm and fuzzy, where it would make your soul melt like honey. Now… now, it felt like molten; searing, dripping lava scorching your insides, burning you—destroying you from within.

            Those anxious feelings, the ones that dissipated. They came back.

            “Seriously?” you scoffed, blinking away the fresh saltwater that threatened to spill from the very crevices of your heart. “Was all of this just some cruel joke to you? Our friendship? Our relationship?”

            Silence.

            Silence, silence, SILENCE—

            “Oh, don’t go all quiet on me now,” you muttered with a breathless chuckle, stepping forward, only to shove him where it would hurt the most—slamming your heel against his chest, where his heart would feel its impact. He certainly did with the way he turned his head to the side, unable to look at you. “You planned this to embarrass me, didn’t you? You never loved me, all these stupid gifts—” you reached inside your shirt, only to rip the sterling chain from your neck, throwing it at him— “It was all fake?! It was for YOUR enjoyment, wasn’t it, Draco?”

            No.

            “Of course it fucking was,” he finally snapped, glaring at you with those grey eyes—you swore that they had been brighter once, that they had sparkled in the sunlight during those ever so secretive moments in his dorm. Regardless, it was now darkness that devoured those orbs you always pined after. Depravity. Hatred.

            All over a blood status.

            “You’re a mudblood, [Y/N], you’ll always be a fucking mudblood—why can’t you get that through your insipid brain of yours?” he was seething now, catching you completely off guard as he grabbed your shoulders, staring into those wide, dimmed eyes that used to glow every time you saw him.

            “Theodore gave me the idea, you know?” Lies, lies, lies. “Told me to mess with you a little since no one else would dare touch such… such scum,” he laughed—he was fucking laughing. Watching as more tears rolled down your cheeks, like it was automatic. Two natural waterfalls crashing into the warm chambers of your coveted core. “I mean, come on, love—I thought you were smarter than this,” his taunts overwhelmed you like a vice, his grip on your biceps tightening, wanting to hurt you as much as he could—needing to, so you could walk away.

            “You’re just as delusional as the rest of them,” scoffed Draco, his lips, the same lips that locked with yours in the early hours of the morning, holding a barely perceptible smirk, clearly proud at how broken you looked. How utterly devastated you appeared before him. Glass-like tears decorating the apples of your cheeks like diamonds on a dress, eyelashes wet with absolute desolation—the contentment that had embraced you like a blanket earlier today had vanished in less than seconds.

            All because of Draco Lucius Malfoy.

            “Probably shouldn’t have led you on for so long, huh?” he murmured gently, like he was complimenting you. Like this wasn’t eating you up completely; terrorising you. His calloused fingers cupped one of your delicate cheeks, his thumb swiping across your skin to wipe those tears away, the ones you had fought so hard, but had escaped your crevice anyway. A whimper of sheer melancholy was all you could respond with, crying to yourself—your entire life was a lie.

            “Fuck you, Malfoy,” you whispered, shaking your head from his almost-soothing grasp, stepping away once again, feeling rotten to the core. Your eyes met his for a final moment, your bottom lip quivering, as well as your entire body—like you were cold, frostbitten. Betrayed. “We’re done. I hope I never see you again.”

            With that, you shoved past him, your hushed weeps trailing after you as you fled the tower, leaving your ex-boyfriend alone in the tower. Leaving him with his deprecating thoughts.

            She wasn’t worth it.

            Father wouldn’t have approved.

            MUDBLOOD.

            Swallowing the painful lump that grew by the second in the confines of his throat, Draco’s eyes landed on the sterling chain at his feet—the one that he had gifted you only this morning. Holding the dragon charm. Holding him. He bent down to pick it up, seizing it like it was the most delicate thing he had ever felt; and it only held that title because it was purely yours. His heart was yours and yours only.

            “Don’t worry, my heart,” he murmured to himself, the ambient glow of his Dark Mark resonating through the rich cotton of his shirt. His thumb brushing over the silver scales of the charm with an utmost gentle manner.  “You won’t.”

[teacup-gathering-itself]

Give me muggleborn students trolling eachother via howlers and voice changers but they accidentally use muggle jokes that the pureblood kids don’t understand (think Nigerian Prince scams) so it spirals out of control.

“I didn’t know your family had ties to nobility? Why didn’t you mention it?”

“Pardon?”

“You’re familiar with African nobility? Enough that they send you howlers? And you didn’t care to mention that?”

“Oh… oh yeah that’s… my bad?”

Queue every muggle raised child realizing this opportunity and making eyes that scream “do NOT fuck this up for all of us” at each other before the gossip network does its work.

Anyways I just wanna see Goncharov level of unity because they absolutely would stick to the bit if someone fell for it.

Professor Snape would die over this silently, while all the pureblood teachers are like “???? Are you well, Severus?”

[treasoncheese]

[cutielando]

Hello, can I request draco x muggleborn! reader where the reader is actually a member of the royal family in the muggle world?

family relations | draco malfoy

synopsis: in which his father is wrong about you

pairing: draco malfoy x royal!reader

my masterlist

Being a Muggleborn was hard in the wizarding world. Especially when confronted with people who didn't believe that you were worthy of having magical powers.

But being a Muggleborn while dating Draco Malfoy, practically magic royalty? Now that was a whole other story.

Draco didn't care that you weren't a Pureblood. He loved you regardless of that. His mother was the same, she was just happy that her son found someone to love and cherish.

Lucius was the problem.

Ever since Draco decided to tell his parents about your relationship, his father made it very obvious to him how much he disliked you and didn't approve of you. You'd never even met the guy and he already hated you.

But that was all going to change because Draco had decided to take you to his house for dinner during spring break.

"Are you sure you want me to come? I don't want to be the reason you fight with your father" you had asked Draco one night before while you were lying on the couch in the Slytherin common room.

"I'm sure. My mother has been insisting that she meets you and we've put it off enough. I don't care what my father has to say, I'll still love you no matter what" he explained, pecking your lips to reassure you.

"Have you told them the 'thing' about me?" you asked quietly, not trusting that others wouldn't hear your secret and make a big deal out of it.

"Not yet, figured I should wait and we'll tell them over dinner. Maybe my father will come around and respect you when he hears"

You thought for a second and nodded, leaning back into Draco's embrace and letting the warmth emanating from his body envelop you and lull you into a peaceful sleep.

♡♡♡♡♡

"Are you sure about this? Last chance to run" you told Draco as you stood in front of Malfoy Manor, your hand tightly gripping his.

“Love, I’m sure. Are you sure you’re up for this? We don’t have to if you want to” he turned to you and put the hand that wasn’t holding yours on your cheek.

You looked him in the eye for a minute, feeling safe and sound as you let his eyes calm you down.

“Let’s do this. Together” you finally spoke up, determined to get this over with and make it work.

Draco smiled and leaned down, pecking your lips and then forehead.

As you sarted walking towards the front entrance, a million thoughts started racing through your mind.

You were so engrossed in your own mind that you didn’t even notice you were already standing in front of the large black oak doors, Draco having already knocked.

A small, petite house elf opened the door and bowed immediately to his master, scrambling to usher you inside.

“Master Draco, your presence has been highly anticipated. Mistress Y/N, your presence has been waited upon as well. Master Lucius and Mistress Narcissa are waiting for you in the dining hall” the elf explained before quickly hurrying down the corridor and entering, what you presumed was, the kitchen.

“Ready?” Draco whispered, standing in front of you and holding your arms.

You nodded, giving him a small smile.

He returned it and pecked your forehead before taking your hand again and entering the room.

Lucius was sitting at the head of the long dining table and Narcissa was sitting next to him, smiling once he saw you entering.

“My boy, oh how I’ve missed you” she got up once we reached her and enveloped Draco in a tight hug, the boy returning the gesture.

When they pulled away, Narcissa turned to you and smiled.

“Hello, Mrs. Malfoy. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you” you said swiftly, tryinf to calm your nerves.

“You’re even more beautiful than Draco described” she gushed and pulled you in a hug, chuckling when she heard Draco swear under his breath.

A sudden cough made you all freeze. Narcissa pulled away from you and turned to her husband, gesturing for you to sit down next to him.

“This is my husband, Lucius. Lucius, you remember Y/N from Draco’s letters, don’t you?” Narcissa put her hand on his shoulder, most probably considering she could take control of the situation.

“I remember her vividly. The Mudblood, of course” he spit, venom clear as day in his voice.

“Father!” Draco hissed, glaring at him.

“I thought I told you to never bring this Mudblood into my house. What is she doing here?” Lucius asked Draco, glaring at you from the corner of his eye.

“You will not speak to her that way. She is not a Mudblood and she is certainly not your common Muggleborn” he said and stopped, looking at you for approval.

You gave him a small smile and nodded, resting your hand on his leg in order to keep him calm.

“Oh, she’s special now, isn’t she? Do tell me, what could possibly make this girl special?”

“I’m a member of the Royal Family” you spoke up for the first time in front of Lucius before Draco could speak.

The silence that filled the room was thick, almost deafening. Lucius was staring at you like you had grown two heads, Narcissa was beaming at you and Draco was sitting back in his chair, enjoying the reaction from his father.

“Excuse me?” Lucius finally said, his face as white as a sheet.

“I’m a member of the Muggle Royal Family. Quite literally a princess”

Lucius was silent for a minute, deep in thought, before he slowly nodded.

“In that case, I would like to apologize for my harsh words and behavior towards you, Y/N. You have my blessing to date my son and consider this your home from this day forward” he nodded curtly and stood up, walking away from you three and leaving the room.

You turned to look at Draco, whose smile was as wide and bright as the Sun.

“Told you” he said, making you roll your eyes.

You were just glad his parents finally approved of you and Lucius came around.

Because there was no way in hell you were leaving Draco.

Ever.

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[thelandswemadeofpaper]

Thats someone just evil and genuine disgusting about tropes like 'wanting to keep your blood pure' or 'marrying someone to have children with that or this or their power' or 'marry into the family to streght the lineage'

Kinda reminds me of that Marriage Law bashing idea from Harry Potter that, when purebloods finally get that they are probally having more squibs and weak magic because of the sheer incest, they would forced muggleborns to marry their children so they won't lose their magic

Or Naruto fics with Clan Restoration Act that are a weird harem fetish instead of the disgusting nightmare it should be. Some even has the Uzumaki girls (Karin, Tayuya) as nothing more than Naruto's fangirls and helper without a opinion of their own

Or the old trope of a poweful female protagonist having people wanting to marry her to their sons? Or themselves? Usually powerful creepy old man

I imagine if something like what happened in Maquia: When the Promised Flower Blooms could happen in Numenor with the Elves

Mind you its a interessating idea and I actually like this trope when its acknowledged as evil

[arcasisautistic]

Currently cackling with laughter over those poor muggleborn kids that had to work out what the fuck all these weirdos were talking about when they discussed 'He who shall not be named' and like

One goes up to another student asking who they're talking about, just cause, ya know, they're new here n all that

Pureblood student: *quiet staring*

Muggleborn: yeah, so who is it?

PB: you know who??

M: umm... no? I dont? That's why I'm asking? Who is it?

PB: no, its... hes... you know who

M: what do you mean? I don't know who, I'm not from round here, how am I supposed to know?

And it just keeps going in this 'Who's on first' -esque style until they're both screaming

[hibiscusfairys]

☕️ draco malfoy ; unrequited love, part 1 (hufflepuff fem reader)

photo from pinterest

♪ the other woman — jeff buckley

♡ warnings: angst

part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5

☆

You saw how he looked at her.

Astoria Greengrass — a beauty, no doubt. A head of hair brown and gorgeous, a personality kind and thoughtful, and alluring dark eyes like liquor.

What made it worse, is that she was good natured to you too.

It only made you love her more, but jealousy engulfed you like a blanket, wrapping you warm, yet you were still cold.

You had always admired her.

The guilt was too heavy to weigh.

It was 4th year when you began falling for the blonde boy, when you were paired with him in potions. You couldn’t fathom why or how your feelings for him formed, especially when he had a cruel mouth, in which he wasn’t afraid to open. He was a spoilt, arrogant person. And his family was no better.

You both had obvious differences — you were an ordinary girl, a muggleborn. You were also placed into Hufflepuff, a house unfairly stereotyped for their sensitivity and unwillingness. But you knew they were all much more than what people believed. He, on the other hand, was a Slytherin, a pureblood, and seemingly compassionless.

You faced the many difficulties of working with him. Being disrespected was an often thing, but you persevered through it until he began to unfold. He eventually got used to you, a few remarks were still thrown around here and there however, deepening your insecurities the more you were around him. Every time his gaze landed on you, you felt like sinking deep into an empty hole. Although, you knew a heart was hiding beneath his thick skin.

The unpredictable, and possibly accidental warm gestures he made, sparked something. You began to feel insecure around him, but for different reasons. You wanted to look and feel pretty.

You were normal, to him.

To him, he felt no spark. He indeed, found you exceptionally ordinary, and even quite embarrassing. You weren’t a Slytherin, and you weren’t of high prestige like him. To be caught talking to a Hufflepuff of muggle blood was something he’d usually avoid.

That’s when you asked him to help you pack away the lesson equipment, when his gaze landed on Astoria. You saw his eyes enchant with delight. Of course, who wouldn’t look at a girl like her and not feel something? She was gorgeous.

But it speared your heart deep.

Her perfection only made it worse.

He began to distance himself from you in order to get closer to the girl. Your stomach churned the more he spoke, and the more the smiled. The more his vision lay on her, you were swarmed with envy. You wanted to rid of it badly, due to the guilt of feeling such emotion towards her. She had never done you wrong, and you were slowly beginning to resent her. How immature it was to dislike a girl for being loved by the boy you liked. But you admired her too, a role model who was so perfect it was impossible.

The Yule Ball came around, and that’s when things only got worse. You were waiting, and waiting to be asked, but your heart stood empty. You even asked a few people, but they were already taken. And you knew you wouldn’t stand a chance with Draco, as Astoria was apart of his life. Your impatience began to grow, along with your heartache.

“What’s wrong with you?” The boy asked, solemn. His concern was little in his voice, almost as if he was condescending.

You performed a smile on your face. “Nothings wrong, just having difficulty finding someone.”

Draco looked at you awkwardly. “…Oh.” He was unsure of how to respond, and was cautious about being seen by his friends. The teasing would last for weeks.

You looked up at him, noticing his pale face. “Say, are you going with anybody?” You already knew the answer, but a chance was still there, and you clung onto it for dear life.

“Yes,” He responded, rubbing his neck. “Greengrass’ agreed to go with me.” His lips curled at the mention of her name, his face blushing with a red hue.

“Oh, that’s great then..” You responded, your voice quietened in disappointment.

“What’s with the sad response?” He asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“You were kind of.. the last person I would ask. Everyone else I’ve asked already had someone.” You replied, knowing that, and him loving somebody else also.

“Oh,” He said, guilt not present. “Going by yourself isn’t bad though.”

His cold words were enough to freeze. A lump in your throat began to form, composure slipping. “Yes, it isn’t too bad..” It was a one time experience. Why couldn’t you have the joy everyone else shared? Going by yourself would ruin the entire party, and it wouldn’t be worth going.

“Or maybe, just don’t go.. I don’t know. If you don’t have a date, what’s the point?” He remarked, unknowing of the pain that laced his words. He noticed the usual smile on your face begin to disappear, and your face looked slightly pained. “Come on, you know I didn’t mean it in that way.”

“Maybe you didn’t.” You snapped, your voice wavering. “But what could I have expected from you? That you’d comfort me, and reassure me that it’s alright? That would be delusional.”

He appeared shaken by your response, as if he was expecting you to agree and understand. But this time, you had enough.

“I’m glad you get to go with Astoria, Draco. You are one lucky guy. Do you treat her the same you do me?”

“No, I don’t,” He retorted. “You know I can’t, for one, I like her. I don’t like you like her.”

“I know that!” You hissed. “But at least think twice before you say something, you prick.”

You grabbed your bag, sliding it off of the table. An empty glass vial shattered onto the floor.

“You’re too touchy.” He whispered under his breath, huffing as he followed after you.

☆

thank u for reading!!!! im doing a part two to this too, i want there to be a happy ending cause ik ill be too broken without one lol :(

[chasingthestarss]

Lily: how good of friends are we?

Remus: I would trade you for a bag of crisps

Lily: No you wouldn’t. Although… we really don’t get a lot of fast food because of Hogwarts.

Remus: I would literally give myself to the death eaters for a chicken nugget

Lily: you would be worth at least two

Remus: you flatter me

Mary: I would betray all of you for a good pizza

[yellow0jello2]

Since there are no math classes in Hogwarts, imagine a muggle born realizing they can flex on everyone and taking online classes in the summer to fuck with the people who think they're superior to muggles

Ravenclaw: oh, if you need any help understanding this, come to me! I won't judge you since your muggle brain might have a hard time comprehending the concept of magic. It's funny how you're so limited. You're like an ant seeing life from a human's perspective, aren't you?

Muggle born: So you know triangle congruence theorems?

Ravenclaw: ... wot-

Muggle born: Thanks for the offer, maybe I can teach you about vectors and scalars!

Ravenclaw: I-

Muggle born: Or perhaps you'd rather know the formulas to solve for the velocity and displacement of a broomstick?

Ravenclaw: ...

Muggle born: Think before you speak, you feather fluffing stale biscuit.

[ziaverse]

he’s my girlfriend. what do you mean murder. hes just a lil cunty. what…

[crescentofthegods]

twitterpated

pairing: james potter x muggleborn!animagus!fem!reader

request: Hi! How are you doing? If it’s alright, can I please request a female muggleborn Gryffindor reader watching Bambi with James Potter? ~ anon

word count: 1,686 words

warnings: FLUFF, set during the christmas holidays of sixth year, mentions of bambi's mother's death (honestly so heartbreaking even if we didn't see it)...

author's note: before reading this request, i hadn't watched bambi EVER (i know, it's a literal crime), so i watched it because i didn't want to get anything wrong with this request and i imagined james being completely distraught after the death of bambi's mother because he imagined the reader as her whilst watching so YEAH. also, i'm not fully in the marauders fandom (i've read atyd and art heist baby - both fics are utterly heart wrenching but so good), so i don't know if james knows what a tv is, but pretend he doesn't! btw, i'm literally so happy someone requested for a marauder, i hope you like it, anon! 💘

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JAMES FLEAMONT POTTER was twitterpated, but he didn't know that yet. He had plucked up the courage to meet your parents during Christmas break. Your parents were Muggles, meaning he would have to do more than be his charming self. You loved your parents dearly, and you’d do anything for them. So when they asked to meet your Quidditch-obsessed Wizard boyfriend, you just couldn’t say no.

And, for once in his life, James Potter was nervous. He stood outside your door for at least twenty minutes, wondering how he would greet your parents. He spoke with his friends, Sirius, Remus, and Peter, before he Disapparated to Bristol, where you resided. However, James ignored Sirius’s protests, knowing that his idea would be too much of an exaggeration.

So, he took Peter’s advice, which was simple, but it made the most sense.

“Just be yourself!” Peter sighed, shrugging. “You’ve charmed everyone you’ve ever met. It won’t be different with [Y/N]’s parents.”

James sucked it up, knocked on the door, and was welcomed into your humble abode by your father (unfortunately, your father didn’t let James in properly until he ensured your boyfriend had the right intentions).

James also had to compose himself after seeing you in a ruby red dress, which flowed above your knees. He didn’t know how he did it, but he achieved it.

An hour later, he had won the hearts of your parents gallantly. James had enjoyed your mother’s pot roast and vowed he’d come over often (if your father allowed him).

Currently, James sat on your comfy bed, tilting his head at the massive cube you were meddling with. He crossed his arms, pushing his glasses up as he gave up, muttering under his breath.

“Did you say something, my love?” you asked, glancing at him as you pressed several buttons on what James perceived as an even longer cube.

“I was just wondering what in Merlin’s name is that?” he replied, his tone exasperated as he stood beside you with crumpled eyebrows. “Why is it glowing?” Your lips curled at his confusion, refraining from the urge to giggle as you cleared your throat, putting the remote down once you found the right channel.

“It’s called a television, darling,” you smiled, taking his hand and sitting him against the headboard. You made yourself comfortable, your eyes lighting up once you saw that the movie was beginning. As you laid your head on James’s chest, he remained adorably confused.

“[Y/N/N], love, I still don’t understand what you’re on about,” he sighed, looking down at you as you laughed, taking his hand.

“A television is an incredible invention where you can watch movies,” you answered, your eyes lighting up once you saw the movie title arrive on the screen, “And, right now, we’re watching Bambi!”

“What’s a Bambi?” James replied, his tone innocent as you shook your head. The opening theme began playing as your smile grew.

“It’s a name for a fawn. Trust me, you’ll like it!”

“Fawn?” he muttered, “Like a younger version of a stag?” You nodded, seeing a grin form across his lips as he turned his head towards the television. You looked at James, smiling to yourself before beginning to pay attention to the movie, relaxing in his warmth.

Forty minutes into the film, you and James approached the scene where Man shot Bambi’s mother after being caught eating a bit of grass in the snowy meadow. So far, he enjoyed the film thoroughly, making jokes about your Animagi (his Animagus was a stag, while yours was a doe), which were incredibly awful, but you laughed nonetheless.

Unbeknownst to you, James had imagined you as Bambi’s mother and him as Bambi’s father (he gathered that the Great Prince was Bambi’s dad since the fawn was named ‘The Young Prince’), which, for some reason, made the film more entertaining. The thought of beginning a family with you was always music to James’s ears. 

As the monstrous scene unravelled before you, you scratched your neck, noticing a crease in James’s forehead as the fawn and the doe sprinted towards the woods after the first gunshot.

James was a courageous person who wasn’t afraid of anything, yet you were slightly cautious of him breaking down after seeing this scene.

“[Y/N]…” James began, uncertainty lacing his tone as he leaned forward. “Do not tell me that Man is going to—”

Gunshot.

As Bambi continued running for his life, his mother didn’t follow. Slowly, your eyes met James’s expression, deflating when you saw his distraught countenance.

“James…?”

“This is just absurd—”

“I know—”

“Man could’ve shot any other doe in the forest, and he chose Bambi’s mother?”

“Let’s not say things like that, shall we—?”

“This makes no bloody sense. Why is Man so cruel—?”

“Well, that’s just what poachers do—”

“Shouldn’t he be sent to Azkaban for this—?”

“JAMES!” You exclaimed, James’s eyes snapping towards you with raised eyebrows as he looked back at the television, frowning slightly before turning to you.

“Promise me you won’t get shot by whatever poachers are,” he muttered, his hands on your shoulders as you furrowed your eyebrows, beginning to laugh.

“What—?”

“Promise me—”

“Why would bloody poachers shoot me?” You guffawed, confusion etching your face as he tutted loudly, shaking your shoulders.

“As an Animagus! You are a fricking doe—”

“James, that will never happen. Never in a million years—”

“PROMISE ME—”

“OH MY GOD, FINE!” you yelled, leaning against the headboard as you sighed frustratingly at your boyfriend’s dramatic antics. “I promise I won’t get shot by poachers as an Animagus…” Your voice trailed off as you saw James’s expression. “And as a human.” You watched James ponder for a moment as you crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow at his thoughtful expression.

“I’m not satisfied.”

“Why did I decide to go out with you—?”

“Swear in Amora’s name.” Your jaw dropped at his sudden statement, your hand aching to grab the pillow behind James so you could suffocate him.

“You want me to swear on my dead cat’s life?” You gasped, starstruck, as he shrugged hesitatingly, leaning away from you. “What’s next, an Unbreakable Vow?”

“It couldn’t hurt—”

“JAMES FLEAMONT POTTER—”

“OKAY!” He pressed his back against the headboard as you held the pillow above him, slowly lowering it when he put his hands up in mock surrender. You pressed your lips together, putting the cushion down, satisfied with James’s relieved sigh.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he frowned at your offended expression as he pulled you onto his lap, causing you to sigh. “I’m just very protective of you.”

“Hm, I’ve noticed,” you hummed, remembering when James and the other Marauders hexed a group of Slytherins after they called you various vile names (you can guess what the most evident insult was). “But I will not get shot up by a group of poachers. And how do I know you aren’t going to get hunted by them in your Animagus form as a stag?” You countered, your lips curling as you awaited his response.

“Because I’m profoundly intelligent—” You dramatically gasped at his statement, your mouth falling open.

“Did you just call me dumb—?”

“I would never do that, darling—”

“You just did—”

“I didn’t mean it like that—”

“I will kick you out of this house right now,” you threatened, pointing an accusing finger at him as he grinned lazily, glancing at your lips before looking into your eyes.

“Your mother wouldn’t allow that,” James winked as you gasped again. You grabbed the pillow, climbing off of him before bashing his torso, causing the brunette boy to laugh as he lay on the bed, shoving him repeatedly.

“Wait until I tell my dad you’re flirting with my mum,” you teased, causing James to immediately sit up, widening his eyes as he smiled nervously.

“You wouldn’t—” You gave him a pointed look as he nodded, looking down before peppering your face with kisses, making you squeal as you giggled, attempting to push him off you.

“You slick bastard,” you guffawed, sitting up again, “We’ve missed most of the movie now,” you joked, not noticing his shocked expression.

“Go back, please,” he pleaded, grabbing your hands while kissing your knuckles. You smiled at his behaviour, taking the remote as you rewind to the scene you were on, allowing James to lay his head in your lap. His eyes were glued to the television as you bit your bottom lip, running your hands through his curls as he sighed contently, peeking at you through his glasses.

“We’ll have our own Bambi one day,” James grinned cheesily as a faint blush appeared on your cheeks, leaning down to whisper in his ear.

“We could try right now,” you whispered teasingly, snickering as his cheeks flushed, his eyes flitting to your bedroom door.

“Your parents are downstairs,” he replied in a hushed voice as you covered your mouth, practically dying with laughter.

However, as you laughed away with the subtle tunes of Bambi playing in the background, James couldn’t help but admire the wide smile written on your face, smiling with you, regardless of your mocking.

James was, as Friend Owl just stated, twitterpated. The term was practically the definition of your and James’s relationship. During fifth year, in the middle of spring, he was minding his own business, walking under the cherry blossom trees on the Hogwarts grounds, when he saw you sat against one, scribbling away on a piece of parchment. You suddenly looked up, noticing he was staring at you and only you, so you smiled, blushing before you waved him over to the spot next to you. 

The rest was history. Day after day, he became weak in the knees after catching a brief glimpse of you. Day after day, his head was constantly whirling just by hearing your voice. Day after day, he felt light as a feather as he trailed after you, walking on literal air as you did your own thing.

You had knocked James for a loop.

He’d completely lost his head.

And he was not ashamed.

James Fleamont Potter was proud of himself. After all, who wouldn’t want to be twitterpated?

fun fact! amora (the reader's dead cat 😔) is the name of my oc for the hp book i'm writing :)

[predatoryseasnail]

Wizarding Blood-Purity is a Sham

I think that a lot of people forget that Salazar Slytherin wasn't racist.

And no, before you go all crazy on me just remember in the second book, when fear and anger and all kinds of emotions were running wild and everyone distrusted Slytherin House, students asked a teacher about what happened. And that teacher, a ghost who for all we know could have been there when it actually happened, gave an honest answer.

"Slytherin wished to be more selective about the students admitted to Hogwarts. He believed that magical learning should be kept within all-magic families. He disliked taking students of Muggle parentage, believing them to be untrustworthy."

Look at the language. Look at it, and understand that Salazar didn't see Muggle-borns as inferior, as worse. He saw them as untrustworthy.

Why, you ask? Well Professor Binns answers that as well!

"[The founders] built this castle together, far from prying Muggle eyes, for it was an age when magic was feared by common people, and witches and wizard suffered much persecution."

Salazar didn't like Muggles because they were hunting his family, his people, and persecuting them with horrific violence. He didn't trust Muggle-borns because how could he know that they wouldn't betray the magical world and tell their families that the kid two villages over practices magic with him on Tuesdays?

And yes, witches and wizards had ways to make it look like they burned at the stake when they actually survived, such as the Flame-Freezing Charm. But young children, with little control over their magic? If they were caught or exposed, well, it probably wouldn't end well for them.

Plus, wizardkind is outnumbered by Muggles, by a huge amount. If a village of Muggles who hated and feared magic discovered that a family of wizards and witches was among them, the parents would be burdened with trying to flee from a few hundred people while protecting their kids (who can't control their magic).

Salazar Slytherin didn't like Muggles or Muggle-borns. He hated them and feared them, not because they were inferior, but because they were dangerous. And while murdering children with a giant snake is not a good way to solve this danger to his family, people, and culture, it HAS to be seen that his actions were born not from arrogance, but from fear.

And there were Slytherins who knew this, long before Muggles had become so othered from wizarding society that some families started to believe that Muggles were inferior to those with "pure blood." Like Merlin, Prince of Enchanters, arguably the greatest wizard of all time, who founded the Order of Merlin to protect and aid Muggles, whose name has become synonymous with Muggle rights activisim. Merlin, a Slytherin.

If Salazar Slytherin was alive in the 20th century, he would laugh at the idea that Muggles were inferior. He would be the first to point out that Lily Evans and Hermione Granger, the brightest witches of their age, were Muggle-born. He would scorn the idea that pure-bloods were better, saying if that's true, why is Draco Malfoy, a pure-blood, second to a Muggle-born?

Salazar had questionable morals, to be sure (anyone who doesn't think so can re-read the Chamber of Secrets, where he hid a giant snake in a school full of children to murder the ones he deemed dangerous). But he never, never once thought that Muggles were inferior to wizards.

[treasoncheese]

[maraudersmoonysblog]

Muggleborns trying to find a way to make a ring magical so it turns you invisible like the ring from the hobbit

[moreespressoformydepresso]

The Flints are a sacred 28 family, and the fandom seems to have accepted that they have ministry positions and are rich.

Imagine muggleborn Oliver coming over for a cute “meet the parents” scenario with underlying strain because while Marcus’ parents aren’t death eaters dating non-purebloods is very taboo in high pureblood society. Except they’re about half an hour late because Oliver was frozen in shock for a while when they arrived at Flint Manor because “Merlin, Marc, THIS is your HOUSE?!?! You didn’t tell me you live in a caste!!”

“It’s a manor, Ollie.”

“WHAT’S THE DIFFERENCE?!?!”