#Nongryffindor reader

[easterbonnet]

The Great Hogwarts Storm

fem!reader x boyfriend!neville longbottom

{{a storm hits hogwarts and neville makes it his job to protect you...}}

. . .

A grueling Thursday night fell upon the inhabitants of the old school: strings of charcoal clouds smothered the castle's turrets, shattering pangs of rain hammered the weathered tiles, sending a few slates down onto the courtyard with a crack, whips of blinding light drew across the angry skies aiding the few flames that flickered in it's windows, thunderous echoes being the only thing to muffle the wet droplets bouncing off the pooling puddles.

'One of the heaviest storms Hogwarts has seen'. A sentence reiterated along the halls - every professor warning batches of students to stay in their dorms, close all windows and have their wand on them at all times. Uncertainty, fear and the odd pang of excitement washed upon the witches and wizards as they scurried away to the safety of their dorms, ordered and guided by prefects.

"Gryffindors this way please!", a tall, auburn haired boy yelled, dressed in his red robes. A gaggle of tiny students wearing the same robes chased after him eagerly, shuffling their feet and bumping into one another as they went. Another group, slightly taller, wondered the same path, yet ten steps behind, traipsing rather casually and sparsely in comparison.

The chilling hallways were swarmed with robes of red, green, blue and yellow, darting every which way, squeezing narrowly through the doorways, as the lighting illuminated the large windows, exposing spooked expressions.

"Come on Ravenclaws! Follow me, follow me!", bellowed a tall, dark haired girl with a stern look about her.

"Quickly! QUICKLY!", spoke a honey haired slytherin with an annoyed huff, just after a rosy-looking girl beckoned the hufflepuffs down the stairs.

"N-neville", y/n trembled, her voice a whisper in the chaos. Her head twirled in a fashion not dissimilar to an owl, as she desperately searched for reassurance. Her fingertips drifted to her parted lips, her eyes doelike in worry, only enhancing when other students swayed her from side to side as they passed.

Her skin prickled in shock, an icy hand grasped her delicate wrist with a tickle of rough fabric, at the same time a familiar voice called, "Y/n, gah there you are". She swivelled around, her body physically responding to his presence, softening and relaxing. His gentle voice like a blanket of honey.

"Ah Neville!", she planted her arms around his body, letting his, drape around her frame. Whilst her face snuggled into his chest, she felt a feathery kiss drop onto the top of her head.

With a beckoning, Neville tenderly laced his fingers into hers and edged her away from the crowds until they reached the gryffindor portrait, widely open as the fat lady sat sleeping in her frame while students poured in.

Neville tightened his grip on her, yet still loving, as he pulled her to follow behind him as he weaved between gryffindors.

"Oi Neville, that you?", Dean questioned over the heads of the crowd in the common room.

Before she had time to realise, he hid her and her differently coloured robes behind his stature as he replied to his friend. Over the calls and chatter inside, and the stomping thunder and rain outside, she could only make out snippets of their conversation, but she gathered that the boys in Neville's dorm were going to camp out with some others in their dorm, a sleepover of sorts, since lessons were cancelled tomorrow and students advised to stick together.

"I- I've got... plans... tonight, sorry", Neville explained quickly before wrapping his robes around her, covering hers so people wouldn't see or question her presence in the wrong common room.

He guided her up the stairs quickly until the two of them were left alone in his dorm, the majority of beds stripped of their blankets and pillows, and only one flickering candle perched next to Neville's bed.

He turned to her, sighing, with a big grin and led her to his bed.

"No one should come in, they're all in the other dorm, just us", he admitted.

She nodded in response, jumping out of her skin whenever the thunder struck, silently wishing she was back in the populated common room, at least then the raging weather was dulled by overexcited students.

He came up beside her, placing an arm around her shoulder, as they sat next to each other in the candle light. She could tell Neville was hiding his own worries behind the adrenaline of keeping her safe and cosy, he wanted to put up a brave facade for her sake.

"Can't believe it, was only sunny the other day", he remarked, aiming to diffuse the tension.

"Hey, it'll be alright, we'll be fine here, no safer place than Hogwarts", he continued, seeing his small talk made no difference in the grip the harshness of the weather seemed to have on y/n.

She sat subtly shaking, "Y-you don't have to wait with me, really, you can go to the other dorm with your friends...", her voice trailled off.

He was quick to reply, "They're big boys they'll be alright, plus I'll be glad to get a night away from Ron's snoring, and Seamus mumbles in his sleep did you know?".

The pair smiled at eachother.

The truth was that Y/n was never fond of bad weather, the loud thunder startled her, and the lighting was unsettling. Neville knew this, so when he heard the news of the storm his first thought was y/n. He ran through the halls, the opposite of the crowd, searching for her. It wasn't that she didn't get along with the others in her house, she did, for the most part, but no one seemed to make her feel as Neville did.

After a few moments of couting the time between thunder calls, and deciding that the storm wasn't getting any further away, Neville got up from the bed and kneeled down by his shabby trunk.

"I think I've got some warm clothes in here", he dug around for a moment before pulling out a pair of pale blue and white linen pyjamas, two pairs of wool socks, two knitted jumpers, and finally, another pair of red pyjamas with small green leaves embroidered on them. "Mm 'ere", he threw the red pyjamas, a pair of socks, and a jumper over to y/n perched on the bed, "try this on".

He sat there busying himself with closing his trunk and standing back up before his gaze met hers. His face instantly reddened. "Oh, yeah, um, I- uh I'll turn around, yeah". Neville turned his back on y/n, allowing her to get changed out of her black robes into something cosier.

"Okay, ready", she whispered meekly, watching his expression as he turned back around to face her, regarding her cosy feet, baggy jumper and cheerful trousers. She smiled. "How do I look?"

"Brilliant, you should wear my clothes more often", he mumbled, before changing his own clothes and calling her back over to his bed where he pulled the duvet back and wrapped her in a blanket. Neville drew the rich red curtains closed that bordered his bed, pulling the blanket up over her ears to mute the noise of the storm, as she cuddled against his warm chest, her face in his jumper.

"My gran always says rain before seven will clear by eleven... It will pass, muffin, and I'll be right here next to you until it does", he gave a dopey, boyish smile, as her eyes fluttered shut, her eyelashes tickling his neck gently.

[baddestbittyontheblock]

marlene mckinnon fic recs

you are responsible for the content you consume‼️

✧*:·˚ hi everyone!! here is a list of all the fics that are my favs with tagged writers/authors ✧*:·˚

✧*:·˚ remember to like and reblog the works you enjoy in order to support each writer!! ✧*:·˚

✧*:·˚ however, make sure you read the information on each story themselves such as triggers & warnings ✧*:·˚

✧*:·˚ also, if you'd like me to remove your fic from this list, message me! ✧*:·˚

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

𓆸 a fallen memory by @mirclealignr marlene mckinnon x gn!reader | slight angst, mostly fluff, 1k

-it wasn’t always possible to identify the source of your pain. emptiness bred a sort of hurt that held no resemblance to any other. The source of it, unknown. You weren’t sure where you felt empty, whether it was your head, your heart, your skin. Before, you would have allowed the feeling to consume you, to wrap you up in its shadowed arms and cradle you in a bittersweet embrace. But since meeting Marlene, you had to learn to push it away and decline its offer.

𓆸 quidditch with marlene by ^ marlene mckinnon x reader

-marlene teaching you how to play quidditch

𓆸 marlene's preference by @proserpina-magnus  marlene mckinnon x fem!reader | hickies, tit/thigh worship

-do you think marlene prefers thighs, tits, ass, or stomach the most?

𓆸 what it’s like dating marlene mcKinnin... by ^ marlene mckinnon x reader | mention of violence/broken bones

𓆸 watch over you by @scvrllet the marauders x platonic!fem!reader | angst

-the marauders may have passed but that doesn’t mean they have left you

𓆸 fruity fog and puffy lips marlene mckinnon x reader | alcohol and drug consumption, characters are of age (17 in wizarding world), shotgunning, references to sex at the end, 0.8k

-gryffindor parties were always fun. but could you manage to spice one up even more?

𓆸 masterstroke by @randomoutsiders marlene mckinnon x fem!reader | shy(ish)!reader, NSFW 18+, dom!marlene x sub!reader, swearing, talk of sex, flirting, fingering, oral, mentions of markings but nothing serious, mention of strap on, mentions of a threesome but nothing more than that

-walking into the room, your first sight is sirius' arms wound around the blonde, his nose nestled into the delicate wisps of the blonde locks, fingers pressing near bruises into her ribs with the strength of his embrace.

𓆸 bumps and bruises by @spxllcxstxr marlene mckinnon x reader | mentions of food/eating, injury description, brief mention of blood, nongryffindor!reader, 2k

-two quidditch rivals finding out they’re something...more (Soulmate AU)

𓆸 james‘ bad influence by @lupiningwolves marlene mckinnon x fem!reader | fluff

-marlene spends to much time with james and gets his bad habits

𓆸 i'll call you mine by ^ marlene mckinnon x fem!reader | nightmares, mentions of death, a bit angst at the end, but fluff after all

-the way how marlene loves you as friends, then dorcas as lovers, then they break up

𓆸 sleep by @sirisuorionblack marlene mckinnon x reader | fluff

-cuddly morning fic at hogwarts with Marlene

𓆸 favorite color by @roxetteblack marlene mckinnon x reader | marl being cute asf

-marlene asks you your favourite colour.

𓆸 marauders & co. reacting to... by @v1oletvenus marauders era x reader | could be platonic, could be romantic, all up to you :)

-someone insulting you during an argument

𓆸 chaotic day out by @vivi-taylorsversion marlene mckinnon x reader | fluff

-a fun day in Hogsmead

𓆸 smut blurb by @morwap marlene mckinnon x reader | smut

-marlene punishing reader

𓆸 smutty blurb by @scorpiwrites marlene mckinnon x reader

-imagine innocent f!reader who is friends with marlene. she's just so shy, so lovable, so obedient. everyone always talk shit about her, not used to a person being so naive, so pure, but marlene saw that it wasn't an act, it's cuz she grew up an outcast from society because of what her father did.

𓆸 drunk confession by @redtaylorsversiongirlie marlene mckinnon x fem!reader | wolfstar

-"she's really pretty," you whispered to equally drunk remus beside you with your head on his shoulder.

𓆸 jealousy, jealousy by ^ marlene mckinnon x fem!reader | (romantic), remus lupin x fem!reader (platonic), marlene mckinnon x sirius black (not really in romantic relationship - they don't have feelings for each other.), remus lupin x sirius black (romantic), jealous sirius, marlene, reader and remus, 4k

-the woman you love, marlene mckinnon, is in relationship with sirius black. a man who loves sirius black, remus lupin, is jealous as much as you are and you get an idea.

[onlyfreds]

🔎 𝐂𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 - a dare or bet trope with Fred x fem!nonGryffindor!reader

Thank you so much for requesting this!

My 1.3k rom-com night is now closed!

A Dare or a Set-up

If there was one thing that Hogwarts never failed to have aside from magic, brooms and trouble - it was the parties. 

Most of these parties were held by the infamous Weasley twins. A majority of people couldn’t tell them apart. But Y/N could. 

The twins teased you that the only reason why you could tell them apart was because you were in Ravenclaw. But the truth is, you were able to tell them apart because you found Fred more handsome, more funnier and (probably biased) more sweeter than his twin.

It wasn’t mainly on the appearance, but the way you felt around a certain one of them. 

“Special delivery!” Your best friend sat by the Ravenclaw table, brandishing a folded up parchment. 

“Another love letter?” You asked, pouring yourself another glass of pumpkin juice, “Who’s it from?” 

Your best friend shook her head, “It’s for you.” 

You furrowed your brows in confusion, “Me?” 

Your best friend nodded, “Yes. You.” 

Still confused, you took the parchment from her and slowly unfolded it.

Though written in some sort of chicken-scratch handwriting, the letter was surprisingly legible. But what surprised you the most, was the fact that it was from Fred Weasley.

“What?” Y/B/F/N said excitedly, running to the other side of the table to take a look at the letter. 

“It says that he personally invites me to the party this weekend and I should feel free to bring along my friends.” You whisper-shouted excitedly. 

Y/B/F/N smiled, nudging you, “He’s looking at you.” 

Looking up, Fred was indeed looking at you - awaiting your reaction. Once your eyes had come to meet his, he grinned.

Returning the smile, you looked back down at the piece of parchment in your hand. 

“So,” Y/B/F/N said, nudging you again, “will you attend?” 

“Of course.” You promptly answered, “Who would possibly be crazy enough to turn down a personal invitation from Fred Weasley, himself?” 

–

The first thing that met you upon opening the door of the abandoned classroom was the lights. 

Someone had, somehow, managed to acquire a muggle disco ball that decorated the walls with multi-color lights. 

You failed to recognize the music, though, somewhat a mix of rock and pop.

Your best friend had disappeared from your side the moment the two of you entered the room, very typical of her. 

Walking through the room, you tried to find her (and probably give her an earful) when you suddenly felt someone collide with you.

Both of you apologized at the same time and it wasn’t until that moment that you got a good look at the person you bumped into.

Despite the darkness of the room, it didn’t take a genius to see who it was. The red hair, the charming smile, the cinnamon and firewood smell.

“Fred.” You said, giving the Gryffindor a smile.

“Y/N.” He countered, smile still not leaving his lips.

“So, how’re you liking the party?” He asked.

You smiled, “It’s amazing! I knew you threw great parties but I didn’t know you could do all this.”

“Well, George and I do love a challenge.” Fred said. 

Taking another look around, you nodded, “Looks like you and George really gave it your all.”

Before anything else could be said, you heard Y/B/F/N call out your names.

“Fred! Y/N! C’mon, we’re playing truth or dare.”

—

That’s how the two of you ended up in a circle with the rest of your friends, an enchanted bottle in the middle.

Truth or Dare was just a harmless muggle teenage game, right? Nothing could absolutely go wrong with this.

How wrong you were with that notion.

The bottle spun around the circle before coming to a stop, pointing towards Y/B/F/N. 

A girl you didn’t recognize gave your best friend a smile, “Truth or dare?” 

“Truth.” Y/B/F/N answered confidently. 

“What was the most embarrassing thing you’ve done in front of the person you fancy?” The girl asked. 

Y/B/F/N’s cheeks quickly turned pink at the question, “I’d rather not say.” 

The girl nudged a shot glass towards her and Y/B/F/N downed it in one gulp.

The bottle was spun twice more, landing on Angelina then a guy from Hufflepuff and this time, it landed directly on Fred. 

George his twin a toothy grin, “What’s it going to be, Freddie?” 

The older twin grew silent for a moment, before saying, “Dare.” 

No surprise in that.

George’s grin even wider, “I dare you…to kiss the prettiest girl in this circle.” 

You felt the heat growing in your cheeks as Fred glanced at you.

The ginger stood up, gaze still fixated on you as he went through with the dare. 

Next thing you knew, he was kneeling right in front of you.

“Can I?” He asked, voice merely above a whisper. 

It was as if your brain had malfunctioned as you could voice out the answer, only managing to nod.

His lips were pressed against you, cheers echoing within the circle you were sitting in as you wrapped your arms around his neck, returning the affection with the same vigor.

No words were exchanged, only the two of you smiling at each other like the most lovesick idiots (which you were).

Y/B/F/N suddenly clapped her hands together, startling the two of you, “Let’s leave these lovebirds alone now, our work here is done.” 

“This was a set-up?” You and Fred asked at the same time. 

“What else did you think it was?” George chuckled. 

[spxllcxstxr]

Game On • J.P

(Gif not mine)

Writing Challenge: @lunalovecroft ‘s 2.7k Trope Writing Challenge! Congrats again! Everyone go check out their fantastic blog! Trope: Quidditch Rivals and Secret Dating

Summary: No one knows that rival captains, Potter and (Y/Ln), have been in a secret relationship for quite some time. Then, the Championship Game arrives.

Warnings: cursing, a small hint of steaminess (nothing big—it’s like a quick mention and that’s it), slight Wolfstar and Dorlene mention, mention of breakfast at the Great Hall, kissing, use of Ms when referring to the reader (only once), nonGryffindor!reader

Word Count: 2k

A.N: Kinda long winded but I actually like the dialogue for once??? Wow. Congrats again on 2.7k! Everyone go follow them because I get so happy seeing them on my dash ❤️ Hope you all enjoy and love you all ❤️

****

Your eyes snap open hours before they have to, your dorm still pitch black, the soft snores of your friends filling up the otherwise quiet space. The covers feel heavy and restricting on top of you, something you quickly remedy by kicking them clear off the mattress.

You swing your legs over the edge, feet meeting the cool wooden floor.

Rubbing your eyes, you glance over at the ornate clock on your nightstand. One in the morning. You sigh, your goal of getting a good night’s sleep before your important match in ruins.

Your skin crawls at the thought of the Championship Match only hours from now. The amount of blood, sweat, and tears you’ve shed in preparation for it is frankly quite concerning.

Unable to get back to sleep, you drag yourself out of bed, shoving your feet into plush slippers before slipping quietly out of your room. You’re forced to tiptoe around scattered books, most of them Quidditch related from last night.

There’s no way you’ll be getting back to sleep anytime soon, the anxiety of the morning’s match coursing through your veins. The nerves were the worst part of competitive Quidditch—after all these years you still couldn’t shake them.

Absentmindedly, you think about heading to the Kitchens, the warm and comfortable environment sounding like exactly what you need.

Late night visits to the Kitchens aren’t anything new, you and James often sneak out after curfew hidden underneath his Invisibility Cloak. Sitting in the far corner behind countless shelves and barrels was a frequent date for the two of you since it offered enough privacy from the rest of the castle.

The two of you could hold hands on the table, his thumb open to draw little figure eights between your knuckles. Your eyes could light up just looking at him without the fear of being called out. His lips could capture yours in a sweet or passionate kiss and no one would know.

The real and complete reason for keeping your relationship a secret was long since forgotten, but the general idea is still shared. It’s just easier being Quidditch rivals instead of being Quidditch rivals that snogged the second feet touched the ground. Neither of you were ever accused of going easy on the other during matches, and that’s how the two of you preferred it.

Plus, there was something romantic about sneaking around the castle and through secret passage ways pressed closely underneath his cloak. Stolen kisses in empty classrooms and quick shags in broom closets were fun when they weren’t inconvenient.

In the back of your mind you have an inkling that James might be huddled up in the usual spot as well, considering he has a match as well in a few hours.

You shuffle through the common room, a few third years spread out on the couch, sleeping atop their textbooks and notes. The fire crackles and pops lowly. A shiver runs down your spine as you step out into the corridor.

“Lumos!”

A murky blue light blooms from the tip of your wand, lighting up the dark corridor.

You shuffle across the stone, the occasional laugh or snore echoing throughout.

Filch isn’t an issue at this time of night, surprisingly the old care taker does get some sort of beauty sleep, though it does him no good, so you find yourself walking normally instead of carefully creeping around.

It doesn’t take long to get to the portrait of the bowl of fruit, faint giggles coming from the pear. You extend your arm to tickle the bottom of the pear, it’s giggles erupting even louder before morphing into an intricate brass doorknob.

Stepping through the threshold you’re immediately met with a blast of heat due to the large fireplace that practically takes up the wall to your right. Even though it’s the middle of the night, plates and goblets and utensils are clanking and crashing together, the pitter patter of house-elves darting around the area isn’t surprising at this point.

“Nox.”

The blue light fades and flickering orange takes over.

A small and pale grey figure rushes up to you, jittery like they’ve just consumed a gallon of coffee. One ear droops low enough where it’s almost dragging across the floor while the other is significantly shorter.

“Ms. (Y/Ln)!” The house-elf squeaks, wringing their lavender cloth between their fingers. “Mr. Potter is waiting for you!”

“Alright, Tilly.” You smile warmly at the elf. “Thank you.”

As you make your way to your usual spot in the back of the Kitchens, you hear Tilly bound back over to the counters, joining the many other house-elves that work down here.

Behind stacks of old crates and barrels, there’s an old and decrepit picnic table, obscured from the rest of the room. Each time you and James show up you’re surprised the house-elves haven’t chucked it into the large fire yet. It’s so rickety it’s practically only good for firewood.

And being the spot for the two of you to find refuge in.

James is sitting with his back against the wall, legs outstretched across the bench just like you suspected. He’s lazily tracing a finger around the lip of his steaming mug, hazel eyes lost in thought. From your spot you can see his teeth toying with his bottom lip.

“You ok Jamie?” You ask softly, trying not to startle him out of his thoughts.

His eyes flick up to yours before he fixes his glasses and runs a hand through his bedhead.

“Knew you’d join me eventually, love.” He sends over a wink, face lighting up.

“And you didn’t think to pick me up at my common room?” You playfully scoff, slotting yourself between his legs, face pressed into his chest.

The red fabric smells suspiciously like the Quidditch shed, like he got in some late night practice.

“Oh yes, because standing out in the cold corridors outside of your common room after curfew is much better than just waiting for you in the warm Kitchens.” James’ chin rests in the top of your head, his arms wrapped securely around your waist.

“Blimey, chivalry really is dead.”

“Y’know, you could’ve waited outside the Gryffindor Tower for me.” James points out, chuckling at your complaint.

“I’m sorry.” You gasp. “Who has the Invisibility Cloak, again?”

“You got here just fine, didn’t you, love?” He snorts, chest rumbling.

“Whatever.” You grumble, rolling your eyes in defeat.

James sighs, rubbing your side. “You ready for the morning?”

You hum noncommittally, the thought of tomorrow’s match swirling through your mind.

“Nervous, love?” His voice is soft and delicate against your temple.

“I mean, this is my last chance, Jamie.” You mumble into his chest. “And of course it’s against you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, (Y/n)?” James asks, concern laced within his voice.

“It’s just that you’re an amazing player and I’m—“

“A spectacular player as well.” He interjects. “I’ve seen you out there practicing. You’ve built a bloody good team this year. We’re on equal footing.”

“Yeah well, I’ve never beaten you before.” You huff lightly, playing with the hem of his shirt.

“So?” He questions. “That doesn’t mean anything. There’s a reason you’ve made it into the Championship match, (Y/n). Because you’re a fucking phenomenal Captain. And I’ll hex anyone that tells you otherwise.” You feel his fingers flex angrily against your waist.

“You’re so sweet.” You pick your head up slightly to face him, a pout tugging at your lips.

“Guess I should give you a good luck kiss now, considering we won’t have time in the morning.” James’ hazel eyes shine in the flickering light while looking into your own.

“Does luck even last that long?” You bring your fingers up to hover over his sharp jawline.

“Sadly, love, we’ll have to test that.” He sighs.

You bring your lips to meet his, your fatigue making it a bit sloppier than it should’ve been. He nips at your lips, pulling you closer to his chest momentarily before pulling away.

You whine slightly at the loss of warmth.

“Gotta save some of that luck for myself, love. Can’t just let you win.” He smirks, lips grazing your hairline.

The two of you end up sitting there for another hour or so, listening to the fire crackling and the house-elves rummage around. Eventually, he pulls you underneath his cloak and drops you back off at your common room, a quick peck pressed to your lips.

You manage to drift back off to sleep, dreaming of James rather than Quidditch.

When you pry your eyes open for the second time, the sun is actually filtering through your curtains and most of your dormmates are awake and shuffling around.

You tune them out the best you can, opting to go through your routine in whatever silence you can find.

Your routine is quite simple, you let your joints pop and muscles stretch, trying to shake yourself awake.

The rest of the castle seems to be alive with boisterous laughter and over the top festivities. Glancing around at the corridors and the Great Hall, you’re able to notice a pretty even split between red and gold and your own house colors.

This was going to be one hell of a rematch.

Marlene and Sirius have a crowd forming around them as they flex and throw out trash talk. You watch as Remus and Dorcas try to coax them down from the tabletop, but they seem unsuccessful.

Peter, Mary, and Lily are fawning over James, hyping him up, even you can tell from across the Hall.

But he isn’t paying attention to them, his eyes are clearly trained on you behind his round glasses.

“Already envisioning Potter’s demise?”

You tear your eyes away from him, instead focusing on your teammate.

“Oh absolutely.” You smirk, before throwing yourself into last minute charts and maneuvers.

Breakfast goes by quick, your leg never stops bouncing underneath the table and your fingers tap incessantly against your goblet.

You and your team strut down to the pitch earlier than anyone else. There’s a slight breeze rolling through the grounds, something you take into account.

It becomes a bit of a blur after you’ve changed into your uniform, the crowd begins to show up and their cheers take over your hearing.

Remus is announcing the game, which you have no idea why since it never goes well for anyone. His commentary ranges from picking on James to flirting with Sirius to just trying to get McGonagall pissed off.

Marching out to the center of the grassy pitch, broom in hand, you’re bombarded with your name being enthusiastically chanted across the entire stadium. Confidence bubbles inside of you as you face James, Madam Hooch just beside you.

“Alright everyone, I expect a nice, clean, and fair game today. This is the Championship, no one will get away with any funny business.” Her tone is clipped as her yellow eyes take in everyone. “Captains, shake hands.”

You and James take a step forward, his hand firmly grasping yours.

“Good luck, love.”

With your hands still connected, James plants his lips on your own, and you eagerly kiss back.

The crowd erupts into even louder cheers.

“Bloody hell!” You hear Remus exclaim over the loud speaker. “James and (Y/Ln) are now snogging on the pitch! You own me five bloody Galleons, Sirius Black! I told you, you—“

“Lupin!”

James takes a step back, his usual smirk painted across his face. His hazel eyes glint mischievously behind his goggles, which he takes the time to adjust like they were his own glasses.

The roar of the entire castle fills your ears after your little reveal.

It’s a little overwhelming, you have to admit, but it doesn’t deter you. You’ve spent too many hours training for this very moment to back down now.

You roll your neck, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves, but pixies have already erupted in your stomach. You feel James’ stare burning into you.

“Mount your brooms.” Madam Hooch’s harsh tone cuts through the crowd, but you’re barely paying attention to her as you swing a leg over your broom handle.

The whistle pops into her mouth like usual, but in the split second before she blows with all the air in her lungs, you lock eyes with your boyfriend.

His red and gold robes billow behind him, confidence just rolling off of him. Dark and chaotic curls drift in the breeze.

He sends you a wink.

“Game on, love.”

•

All Character Taglist: @aspiringsloth20 @amourtentiaa @cherie-draco

For @lunalovecroft go check their blog out!

[onlyfreds]

I posted 345 times in 2022

135 posts created (39%)

210 posts reblogged (61%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@theoreticslut

@withahappyrefrain

@onlyfreds

@butterbeerkiss

@rogueharrington

I tagged 201 of my posts in 2022

Only 42% of my posts had no tags

#gabriella’s friends - 59 posts

#inbox 💌 - 34 posts

#fredweasley - 33 posts

#fredweasleyimagines - 28 posts

#fred weasley fluff - 28 posts

#fred weasley x reader - 28 posts

#fredweasleyfanfic - 28 posts

#fred weasley fanfiction - 27 posts

#fred weasley x y/n - 27 posts

#fred weasley x you - 26 posts

Longest Tag: 64 characters

#just a little boost since that sideblog seems to be shadowbanned

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Can I Have This Dance? | E.M.

Title: Can I Have This Dance?

Requested: Yes/No

Summary: You have feelings for Elijah. He has feelings for you. Rebekah has a plan.

A/N: This is my first ever fic for Elijah. I hope you guys like it! 💖

No one in the whole of New Orleans does a party like the Mikaelsons does.

Every single one of their parties were practically better than the last, as if they had some sort of record to break.

You weren’t much of a party person. But Rebekah practically begged you to go and you couldn’t resist her.

Another reason was because a certain Mikaelson was sure to be there.

“Y/N!” Rebekah almost squealed your name as she caught sight of you walking through the giant gates of the Mikaelson compound.

“I’m so glad you could make it.” Her British accent ringing through her every word while she gave you a hug, “And you look amazing! I’m sure Elijah would be pleased.”

“Bexs.” You smiled, “Thank you but Elijah barely notices me in the first place.”

“Please.” The blonde rolled her eyes, “Elijah is absolutely smitten with you. You’re just too blind to see that he loves you just as much as you do.”

“As much as I adore you shipping us. Elijah sees me as a friend. If he’s smitten for anyone, it’s obviously Hayley.” You protested, trying to keep the jealousy out of your voice.

“Fine, don’t believe me, the all-knowing sister, just wait and see for yourself then.” Rebekah teased.

“Why sister, how long do you plan on keeping our favorite guest from us?” Klaus asked as he and Elijah appeared behind Rebekah.

The blonde turned to face them, “Don’t be ridiculous Nik, I was only greeting her.”

“Favorite guest? You flatter me Klaus.” You smiled as you hugged him.

“He’s just stealing all the credit.” Elijah grinned, stepping in for his turn, “I’m the one who coined the title actually.”

You laughed as Klaus rolled his eyes, “I should’ve known.”

“Are you four seriously just going to stand around here?” Freya asked, giving you a hug in greeting.

“Last I checked, this was a celebration, not a pity party.” Hayley appeared, sending you a smile.

“We’re coming.” You and Rebekah said at the same time, causing the rest of the group to laugh.

—

It was practically common knowledge that if Rebekah Mikaelson had a plan, she would stop at nothing to execute it.

With half of her plan already in motion, the blonde girl watched contentedly from the balcony of the compound, sipping on her champagne.

“I know that look.” Klaus mused, approaching her with his own drink in hand, “You’ve got something up your sleeve, don’t you?”

“Well, let’s just say that we could either start planning the wedding soon or help Elijah through his heartbreak.” Rebekah grinned.

Klaus chuckled, “Definitely our resident matchmaker. How many did you compel this time?” 

“Only one guy.” She answered, her eyes not leaving her target, “And knowing our dear brother, that’ll be enough.”

See the full post

521 notes - Posted August 28, 2022

#4

🔎 𝐂𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 - a dare or bet trope with Fred x fem!nonGryffindor!reader

Thank you so much for requesting this!

My 1.3k rom-com night is now closed!

A Dare or a Set-up

If there was one thing that Hogwarts never failed to have aside from magic, brooms and trouble - it was the parties. 

Most of these parties were held by the infamous Weasley twins. A majority of people couldn’t tell them apart. But Y/N could. 

The twins teased you that the only reason why you could tell them apart was because you were in Ravenclaw. But the truth is, you were able to tell them apart because you found Fred more handsome, more funnier and (probably biased) more sweeter than his twin.

It wasn’t mainly on the appearance, but the way you felt around a certain one of them. 

“Special delivery!” Your best friend sat by the Ravenclaw table, brandishing a folded up parchment. 

“Another love letter?” You asked, pouring yourself another glass of pumpkin juice, “Who’s it from?” 

Your best friend shook her head, “It’s for you.” 

You furrowed your brows in confusion, “Me?” 

Your best friend nodded, “Yes. You.” 

Still confused, you took the parchment from her and slowly unfolded it.

Though written in some sort of chicken-scratch handwriting, the letter was surprisingly legible. But what surprised you the most, was the fact that it was from Fred Weasley.

“What?” Y/B/F/N said excitedly, running to the other side of the table to take a look at the letter. 

“It says that he personally invites me to the party this weekend and I should feel free to bring along my friends.” You whisper-shouted excitedly. 

Y/B/F/N smiled, nudging you, “He’s looking at you.” 

Looking up, Fred was indeed looking at you - awaiting your reaction. Once your eyes had come to meet his, he grinned.

Returning the smile, you looked back down at the piece of parchment in your hand. 

“So,” Y/B/F/N said, nudging you again, “will you attend?” 

“Of course.” You promptly answered, “Who would possibly be crazy enough to turn down a personal invitation from Fred Weasley, himself?” 

–

The first thing that met you upon opening the door of the abandoned classroom was the lights. 

Someone had, somehow, managed to acquire a muggle disco ball that decorated the walls with multi-color lights. 

You failed to recognize the music, though, somewhat a mix of rock and pop.

Your best friend had disappeared from your side the moment the two of you entered the room, very typical of her. 

Walking through the room, you tried to find her (and probably give her an earful) when you suddenly felt someone collide with you.

Both of you apologized at the same time and it wasn’t until that moment that you got a good look at the person you bumped into.

Despite the darkness of the room, it didn’t take a genius to see who it was. The red hair, the charming smile, the cinnamon and firewood smell.

See the full post

551 notes - Posted September 28, 2022

#3

Seriously Moony? | (Young) Remus Lupin

Title: Seriously Moony?

Requested: Yes/No

Description: You’re James Potter’s sister. You’re also dating Remus Lupin…behind James’ back

No one would have thought that it was possible for James Potter to be your twin brother.

The two of you were polar opposites, it was a wonder how the two of you didn’t annoy each other every minute of every day.

Long story short, you and James got along quite well. This also made you an honorary member of the Marauders, even if you didn’t participate in your antics as much.

The only problem was, you were dating one of his best friends - Remus Lupin behind his back.

How could you not even fall in love with him in the first place? He was so sweet, kind and caring. If there was even the slightest chill in the air, he would immediately pull one of his sweaters over you. While the two of you were on a study date, he would just nudge you and hand you a piece of chocolate from under the table. And whenever the two of you were away from James’ prying eyes - he would find all the excuses to hold you as close to you as possible.

James raised a brow at you when you appeared in the common room, “Who’s sweater is that?” 

You stopped in your tracks, realizing that you were still wearing Remus’ sweater that you had “permanently borrowed” from him, “Mine?” 

James laughed, “Yep, doesn’t fool me sis. You don’t have a brown sweater.” 

You looked at Remus who was trying to hide an amused smile, “Says who? What if I have a sweater that you don’t know about?” 

“Actually that sweater does look familair but I can’t remember where I saw it.” Sirius furrowed his brows, trying to rack his brain for the memory.

“You know it kinda looks like one of the sweaters Remus has.” Peter said.

James laughed, “C’mon Peter, why would she be wearing Moony’s sweater? It’s not like they’re dating.” before he deadpanned, “You’re not dating right?” 

“James, that’s just ridiculous. You would have my head if I so much gave your sister flowers, much less date her. Besides what if she just bought the sweater?” Remus said in a no nonsense voice before opening the book in his lap. 

“It’s a good thing one of you has some decent common sense.” You said, turning to go up to your dorm but not before you looked at your boyfriend who smiled and shot a wink your way while James started to get occupied with Quidditch talk.

–

“For a second there, I thought James had figured it out.” Remus chuckled as the two of you relaxed behind the shelves in the library, leaning against the shelves with your hands intertwined. The chances of James finding you here with your boyfriend were low.

You laughed, “James wouldn’t be able to take a hint even if it danced stark naked in front of him.” 

Remus laughed, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “You’re adorable, you know?” 

You giggled, brushing a stray brown lock away from his eyes, “You’re more adorable.” 

He smiled, pressing his forehead against yours before pulling your lips into a kiss. 

Smiling into the kiss, you cupped his face in your hands as you returned the same passion and eagerness he was giving you.

Disconnecting your lips for a moment to breathe, Remus dived back in, pulling you in to straddle his lap as he devoured the feeling of his lips pressed to your soft ones.

You never wanted to leave that moment, you just wanted it to last forever. Unfortunately, that wasn’t possible when you heard footsteps heading in your direction.

Immediately scrambling off Remus’ lap, the two of you stood up as Madam Pince rounded the corner, making it seem like that nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

Feeling her gaze on the two of you, you said, “You know, I get that Romeo and Juliet dying is what makes the whole thing tragic but its just stupid.” 

Remus furrowed his brows, trying hard not to laugh, “How so?” 

See the full post

566 notes - Posted June 14, 2022

#2

Destiny has its Ways | F.W.

Title: Destiny has its Ways

Requested: Yes/No

Summary: Eight months after Fred broke up with you - you decide to visit the shop but with someone special along.

It would be an understatement to say that Fred Weasley was the best boyfriend ever.

Fred Weasley was the most passionate of lovers, he could basically be named the god of love.

He would cater to your every need and request, he would always be there for you - especially when you need him the most. Fred was literally the man of your dreams and you couldn’t imagine a future without him.

“You still haven’t had enough?” You teased as Fred hovered over you, tracing a line of kisses from your jaw down to your neck.

“What kind of a question is that?” He asked with a cheeky grin, sucking his mark on your sweet spot, “I can never get enough of you.”

“Never?” You asked him with an amused smile.

“Never ever.” He confirmed, pressing a kiss to your lips.

--

You had been feeling sick for the past few days, getting up early in the morning to bend over the toilet and empty out the contents of your stomach into it.

“Why don’t you go to the hospital wing and have it checked?” Fred asked, giving you a worried look.

You shook your head, waving him off, “I’m fine. It could just be a bug or something.”

“You sure?” Your boyfriend asked, raising a brow at you.

“I’ll be fine, positive.” You said, giving him a reassuring smile.

“When was the last time you had your period?” Hermione asked a week later, after you’ve told her that you were still vomiting.

You thought about it for a moment before dread washed over you when you realized it, “It’s late… by two weeks.”

Thankfully, Madam Pomfrey wasn’t in the hospital wing so you managed to get a muggle pregnancy test without anyone giving you a suspicious look.

Hermione then stood outside of the bathroom while you conducted the test.

Your stomach dropped as you stared in horror at the two red lines that stood clearly on the white stick.

You sat down on the lid of the toilet seat, feeling like you would collapse if you didn’t. The tears started flowing down the apple of your cheeks as your whole world was suddenly turned upside down.

Hermione started knocking on the door, “You alright? What’s the result?”

You couldn’t give her an answer - but she could hear you crying and that was enough.

She gently opened the stall door and came in, rubbing your back in an attempt to comfort you.

“What am I going to do Hermione?” You asked, “We’re just 18. We can’t have a baby yet.”

“I know.” The younger girl consoled, “Everything’s going to be alright.”

You gripped the test tightly, “Everything’s not going to be alright Hermione. Everything’s going to be a disaster.”

“Y/N, you have a wonderful boyfriend who is basically so whipped for you, who would do absolutely anything for you and looks at you like you just gave him the world on a silver platter. I know that this won’t be easy, but I don’t see how this will be a disaster.” Hermione said.

See the full post

713 notes - Posted April 1, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

So Much for Secrecy | F.W.

Title: So Much for Secrecy

Requested: Yes/No

Summary: When Fred starts sending letters that weren't up to his usual standards - you start to get worried.

“Are you sure you can’t stay over at the Burrow for the summer?” Fred pouted, holding on to you as tightly as he could without suffocating you

You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck as you gave him a smile, “I already told you. We’re going to our summer house since this is the first time my sister’s been home since she went off to college. I’ll write to you everyday and I’ll be able to head to the Burrow two weeks before school starts.”

“Fine.” He huffed, pecking your lips, “You better write to me everyday.”

“I promise.” You said, still smiling up at him.

“C’mon Fred! You’re just parting for the summer! You’re not a soldier going into war.” George called out from the spot where he and the rest of the Weasley family were waiting.

Fred rolled his eyes at his twin, causing you to laugh.

“Go! Your family is waiting.”

“They can wait a little bit longer.” He muttered, bending down to connect your lips in a brief kiss.

“Oi lover boy! Hurry up!” George’s call came again.

“Coming!” Fred said, littering kisses all over your face before he made his way to his family,

“Bye! Write to me everyday! I love you!”

You laughed, waving at him, “Yes, I promise that I’ll write everyday! I love you too!”

–

That was two weeks ago. And you had kept your promise to your boyfriend that you would write to him everyday.

“Writing to your boyfriend, again?” Your sister mused, peeking over your shoulder.

“Yeah.” You said, not looking up from your letter, “Why?”

Y/S/N shrugged, “You just wrote him a letter yesterday, and the day before that.”

“So?”

“So? Normally when my boyfriend and I exchange love letters its either on a special occasion or a weekly basis.”

“Well, my relationship is different from yours.” You said, sealing the letter in an envelope.

“Good point.” Y/S/N agreed, “But, why everyday?”

You smiled, remembering the little exchange before you temporarily parted ways with your respective families.

“Fred is clingy, in a good way. He’s just adorable when he’s clingy. He even told me once that if there ever passes a day that he doesn’t get to see even just a glimpse of me - then his day isn’t complete. So, he made me promise - three times if I may mention - that I would write to him everyday so that ‘he doesn’t miss me as much’.”

“Why didn’t you bring him over?” Your sister said, giving you a look, “I would’ve loved to meet him!”

You smiled at her, “I won’t make any promises - but, maybe next year.”

“I’ll take that then.” She teased.

See the full post

920 notes - Posted April 16, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[spxllcxstxr]

Bumps and Bruises • M.M

(GIF is not mine)

Request: Hi! Sorry, May I ask for a Marlene McKinnon x fem!/gn! reader fic, Soulmate AU where they feel each other's pain. — anon

Summary: Two Quidditch rivals finding out they’re something...more (Soulmate AU)

Warnings: Mentions of food/eating, injury description, brief mention of blood

Word Count: ~2k

A.N: NonGryffindor!Reader, this is my first time doing a Soulmate AU so I hope this is ok! It’s hard to find a balance between Soulmate AU and normal AU, but I’m sure I’ll get better with it in practice! The ending is kinda iffy imo, but it’s not terrible. Hope you enjoy!

****

The first thing you feel when you wake up on Friday morning is a flare up of painful throbbing blossoming across the outer part of your right thigh.

You groan, prying your eyes open and pull back your blanket.

The pale light filtering through your curtains is enough to see the grotesque purpling of swollen skin. You poke and prod at your thigh, occasionally hissing out in agony.

The bruise is both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time.

Its circular shape is something you see all the time. As a Beater on your Quidditch team, Bludger bruises were commonplace. The issue is, and this is where the mark becomes unfamiliar to you, when you went to sleep last night, there was no evidence of any such mark.

This was peculiar because you never had a history of sleep Quidditch, and you’re sure that if you got up in the middle of the night in a trance, at least one of your dorm mates would’ve told you.

And this certainly wasn’t some accidental hitting your bed frame sort of injury. This was ten inches in diameter, black and blue like a ball of pure iron slammed into you. As a self proclaimed Quidditch expert, you’re fully aware of what caused this.

But this conclusion brings up more questions than answers. Sure, you had practice after classes yesterday, but you would remember being hit full force—and you don’t.

But you have no time to sit and ponder over this mystery, you have to make it down for breakfast and then endure hours of classes. If only you could skip ahead to tomorrow’s match against Gryffindor.

You limp your way through the dorm, unable to put the usual amount of weight on your right leg. The room is empty, save for Bedelia, who, as usual, is still snoring underneath her blanket. On your way out, you make sure to wake her up by slamming the door shut as hard as you can.

Hobbling down to the Great Hall with a bag of heavy books slung over your shoulder is no easy feat even when it’s something that constantly happens.

The Great Hall is buzzing, though most of the noise is coming from the Gryffindor table.

The ceiling reflects the morning, bright blue and not a cloud in sight.

By the looks of it, the Gryffindor Quidditch team just got back from their morning practice, still panting and sweaty. For the entire week leading up to a match, James Potter, their captain, makes them practice and go through relentless drills in preparation. When they’re not on the pitch, he’s quizzing them on maneuvers. You’re lucky that your captain and fellow Beater, Morgana Sharpe, gives you the day before a match off, mostly to rest and review. If Potter was your captain he would’ve ended up in St. Mungo’s by now.

Your eyes wander over to Marlene McKinnon, her blonde hair up in a bun, face red and splotchy from practice, bare arms showing off muscle. Her chest heaves under her scarlet top.

“Practicing getting your arses handed to you?” You joke, leaning against their table.

Marlene scoffs. “Oh, you wish.”

Her deep brown eyes find yours, a troublesome twinkle shining through.

“Focus, Marlene, can’t have you fraternizing with the enemy!” James laughs out between mouthfuls of eggs.

“More like flirting with the enemy.” Sirius snorts, leaning closer to Remus, who chuckles into his glass.

“Oi! Piss off, Black!” Marlene snaps, the red on her face spreading.

Dorcas squeezes in next to her, dittany in hand. “How’s the leg, Marls?”

“Aw.” You pout. “Did McKinnon get a boo boo during practice?”

She scowls at you. ���Don’t you have a potion to blow up?”

You clench your jaw and ball your hand into a fist. She’s got a point.

“Alright, enough trash talk, you two, leave it for the pitch.” James rolls his eyes.

Instantly, a weight lifts from your shoulders.

“I gotta go eat, anyway.” You smile warmly at your sort of friends. “So I’ll see you guys in class.” You wave before turning to your own table.

You join the rest of your team the table, squeezing through the tight huddle. Parchment is scattered all over the surface, some with crude drawings of maneuvers, some with written stats.

“Right, now that we’re all here,” Sharpe grunts our in her thick Irish accent, shooting you a disgruntled look. “We have a change of plans.”

“Change of plans?” Webb, one of your Chasers, asks. He looks up from his diagram, eyebrows raised.

“Greene’s soulmate took a tumble and landed him in the hospital wing. Can’t play tomorrow’s match.” She scowls, drawing clenched tightly on her hand.

“Again?” Your team groans.

Rupert Greene spends more time in the hospital wing due to his soulmate’s clumsiness than from playing a dangerous magical sport. That’s the way it’s been for the four years you’ve known him, and you have a hunch that it’ll never change.

“So we’re gonna have to put in Knight? Against Gryffindor?” Webb cries out, eyes wide. “No offense, but he isn’t ready to take on those pricks!”

Sharpe runs a hand through her dark brown hair. “Well, I guess we all just need to pray to Merlin some Gryffindor gets knocked off their broom.” She sighs.

The news of Knight replacing Greene for the match against Gryffindor puts you in a sour mood, making the bruise on your thigh throb more painfully.

You march through the corridors, face contorted in a permanent frown, barely paying attention to your lessons. You do, however, manage to keep your potion from exploding, which Slughorn is thrilled about. Match notes and plays take over your free time, pushing all your homework to Sunday, quickly deciding that this match is far too important. Marlene sticks her tongue out at you whenever she gets the chance as she hobbles through the corridors or looks away from Flitwick in your shared Charms class.

Sharpe drags you and the rest of the team up to bed at nine, lecturing you all about a good night’s rest. You roll your eyes, but you do only spend half an hour studying moves before heading to bed.

You wake up jittery.

You’re always nervous the morning of normal Quidditch matches, but this isn’t a normal Quidditch match. Gryffindor has gone undefeated for the entire season so far, and you just need to beat them. You crave to watch the smug look fall from James’ face and the cocky attitude that Sirius is infamous for crumble. You want to win. At the same time, though, you’re hesitant to see the frown on Marlene’s face. Those perfect lips deserve to shaped in a perfect smile.

Your bruise isn’t as irritated as yesterday. It’s still black and blue, but you really need to dig your thumb into it for it to hurt.

You stretch, listening to your joints pop before strutting down to the Great Hall to join the rest of your team.

Taking a deep breath before making your way through the threshold, you try your best to calm down and radiate confidence. You crack your knuckles and make your way to your table.

Marlene throws you a playful glare across the room, which you teasingly reciprocate.

Breakfast is a quiet affair for your group. Feet tap impatiently against the stone, nervous habits running wild.

The weather is perfect for Quidditch. There’s a slight breeze and a couple fluffy white clouds drifting through the blue sky, providing the occasional blotch of shade. It reassures you and calms you down on your walk down.

Sharpe gives her usual pep talk in the locker rooms. It’s all about blood, guts, and glory, and how we better not mess this up for her or else “she’ll haunt us from the great beyond.” Knight is white as a sheet, trembling underneath his robes.

The crowd roars out from the stands just above, your cue to make your grand entrance. Brooms are taken off their positions in the wall and in a single filed line, you all follow Sharpe out onto the pitch.

“And here it is, everybody,” Remus’ voice calls out over the chaos. “Captain Sharpe, (Y/Ln), Webb, Byrne, Spade, Opal, and their reserve, Knight!”

Your house cheers louder at your introduction, your eardrums pounding. You smile and nod at the crowd, excitement bubbling up inside of you.

“While the two captains are taking positions and shaking hands,” You hear as you mount your broom, Potter and Sharpe facing each other. “I have been paid quite a significant amount to say that according to James Potter, Lily Evans looks absolutely gorgeous today—“

“That has nothing to do with the match, Lupin!” McGonagall cries.

“Godric, Minnie. I’m just doing some adverts, it’s all good. No need to—“

A large thwack echos throughout the pitch, but you’re too wrapped up in Hooch blowing the whistle.

Quickly, you soar up in the air, Beater’s bat in one hand, chasing after your teammates to defend them.

You barely hear Remus over the whistling of the wind and your own grunts.

You watch Marlene laugh after she bats a Bludger away from James, the bat giving off a wicked crack. You’re momentarily mesmerized by her figure. How her tongue peeks out in concentration and her ponytail bounces wildly in the wind.

A moment passes and your arm erupts in pain, and to add onto that, you’re hurtling towards the grass.

You clutch your arm and brace for impact, breath being forcibly ripped from your lungs. Tears well in your eyes from both the pain and the air lashing against your body. Your Quidditch robes flap wildly behind you.

The landing, however, isn’t that bad. You end up in the grass, your bad arm protected. You assume Dumbledore is the one to thank.

You let out strangled pants, sky spinning around you, a piercing whistle sharp against your ears. Your arm screams in agony.

“(Y/Ln)!” Sharpe calls out, broom clutched in one hand. “You alright?” Her face shines with sweat.

“Bloody hell, she’s got quite the swing.” You groan, face contorting in anguish.

In the corner of your rotating vision, you watch red and gold blurs crowding around someone else.

Madam Hooch and the rest of your teammates are talking, but you can’t understand a word they’re saying.

Tendrils of black fog enter your vision and suddenly you’re out cold.

You recognize the hospital wing bed immediately. It’s firm, but not unbearable, the white cotton sheets rubbing against any exposed skin.

“So (Y/Ln) and McKinnon, eh?”

It’s garbled and you’re unable to place the voice, but it’s understandable.

“What’s this ‘bout me and McKinnon?” You manage to slur out, eyes blinking open, the figures above you blurry.

The world gradually clears itself up, your teammates surrounding your bed. Your left arm is wrapped tightly to your chest with a white cotton sling. The pain is dull, but it’s the most noticeable feeling present.

“Ah, well...” Webb scratches the back of his neck, averting his eyes.

“They’re talking about how I finally felt my own strength.”

Slowly, you turn your head to see Marlene sitting up on her bed, carefully watching over you. Her friends surround her, knowing smirks gracing their faces.

Her blonde hair is a bit of a tangled mess from the wind, but her smile is blinding in the light.

“You mean...” Your eyes widen in shock.

Marlene nods her head. “Soulmates.”

You bite your lip in response.

“I mean, it was pretty obvious, wasn’t it?” Sirius asks, looking between his friends for approval. “They literally wake up covered in bruises after like every Quidditch match!”

“Shut up, Pads!” Remus hisses, smacking him on the leg. “They’re having a moment.”

Sirius rolls his eyes and holds his hands up in mock surrender.

Your eyes drift to your thigh where the mysterious bruise was.

“I’m guessing you got hit by a Bludger during practice?” You ask.

“And you’re the one that gave me that broken bloody nose during detention!” Marlene exclaims.

You nod shyly, remembering when Knight accidentally threw the Quaffle at your face during a late night practice.

“Are we really that bloody stupid?” You laugh.

“You want a real answer or...?” James starts, repositioning his glasses.

Marlene shoves James off her bed, and he yelps before ungracefully tumbling to the floor with a crash.

“Guess this is our cue to leave the two stupid lovebirds alone.” Lily giggles before patting her friend on the back and leaving, the Marauders and your own team trailing close behind her.

Because the bones in your arm are practically shattered, you’re confined to the hospital wing for at least another day, but with Marlene at your bedside, it’s been made bearable. You talk about all those mysterious injuries you’ve acquired over the many years and learn the extent of your idiocy.

With various bumps and bruises to match, at the end of the day, the two of you are much more than Quidditch rivals.