#OMG THIS IS SO SLYTHERIN OF HIM

[accio-victuuri]

wang yibo - evisu

Wang Yibo is circling along the way, but he is always fearless and racing upwards. He is "green" and transformed. EVISU joins hands with @UNIQ-王一博to create the new logo No. 85 "Bamboo Leaf Green Snake". It is unique because of love 🐍, and it is full speed for love! 🐍 "Bamboo Leaf Green Snake" will debut soon, so stay tuned!

[itz-mfkn-de]

\\ALL ID EVER WANT// T.N

Warnings- ANGST, (DW there’s is comfort), cussing, implied cheating, smoking, Theodore being a jerk in the beginning, ya that’s it

Summary- You thought he was the love of your life, but maybe in the end you were just young and naive.

(Plsplsplsplspls REQUEST. PLEASEEE. But anyways sorry guys I’m not good at writing angst so this is kinda shitty but I js had rlly bad brain rot abt Theo sooo enjoy.)

You sucked in a deep breath and prayed that when you spoke your voice wouldn't  crack.

"I thought—" it cracked, you quickly cleared your throat. "I thought that I might've actually meant something to you, Nott."

"Oh, amore...don't do that." He said breathlessly. He attempted to step closer to you but for  every step he took forward you took one back. He sighed at your bitterness.

"I have the right to call you whatever I want." You said fiercely.

"Why are you being like this? You've given me no explanation for your anger colomba."  He said with an almost neutral facial expression.

"Oh don't pretend to give a shit about how I feel now. I saw you with her," the venom seeped through your teeth and onto your words, burning your throat as you held back tears.

He stiffened at your words, now understanding where your anger had originated from. The blonde girl now resurfacing in his memory.

And suddenly, just as quickly as he had appeared remorseful, his facial expression hardened.

"Mm, so you did."He muttered, refraining from letting any emotion slip into his words.

You were speechless, he seemed to care more about an imaginary stain on his jacket sleeve than your heart crumbling right before his very eyes.

"So I did? Thats all you have to say? What about us? Theodore, you are my everything," you said, completely dropping the idea of hiding your vulnerability.

He seemed to wince at your words, and you could've sword you saw tears well up in his eyes when he glanced up, but he was quick to avert his gaze.

"Was your everything, Columba. Was. Not anymore." He corrected you. "I don't hold any interest in..using you...anymore principessa."

His voice sounded strained, and as hurtful as his words were, his facial expression made it look like it was hurting him more to say them.

"W—what?" You said as the tears overfilled and poured down your cheeks, "but..but you said you loved me." You said while your head slowly started to hang.

You should've listened to your friends. Everyone said not to fall for his charm, the Italian playboys flirtatious ways.

But you couldn't help yourself.

He made you feel special. He made you feel loved. He protected you and cherished the very ground you walked on, yet here he was...treating you as if you were just another body for him to throw out when he got bored.

Nothing made sense, he had spent so long reassuring you that you were his first and only love, the only one that made him feel. He opened up to you as you did him. He told you he wanted to have a family with you. Now all the sudden he was acting like this.

"I did, didn't I? Sorry for leading you on like that, didn't know you'd think I'd actually be in love with some half-blood." He nearly spat as he continued looking at the ground.

"Half-blood? This—this is about my status?" You mumbled in complete shock.

He didn't answer you as he tucked his hands into his jacket pockets,his green tie reflecting the moons brightness.

Green. Slytherin. You forgot how serious that house was about their blood status. You then recalled the first time you saw theo.

It was your second year, you were just trying to get to your next class when all of the sudden, you saw a small group of Slytherin boys surrounding a smaller ravenclaw boy.

"Filthy muggle! You shouldn't be here." Draco malfoy had spit ruthlessly at the boy. All the Slytherin boys around him were laughing and saying other horrible things to the boy. Except for one, he just stood there spaced out.

That one boy had happened to be Theodore nott.

You brought it up to him years later when you two had become friends and he said he never cared for blood status like his other peers seemed too. You had admired his different view,

Little did you know he would become just like his other peers.

You stood out in the garden, tears pouring down your cheeks and anger seething through your veins.

"Okay. Throw me away like I'm fucking nothing, tell me you hate me, tell me you want me leave and I will." You said  as the clouds above you darkened and the roared with thunder.

He looked at you. This was only the second time tonight he had made eye contact, and Everytime he did, you could've sworn you saw something under his dark cloudy eyes. But alas, you yourself were too consumed by your own feeling to see the ones he hid just beneath his rough exterior.

"I want nothing to do with you, y/n."

Your heart shattered.

The very boy who had been your first everything, your first love, your first kiss, your first. Had just told you he wanted nothing to do with you.

Without a second thought you spun on your heel and nearly jogged to the Hufflepuff dormitories.

Your heart raced as your head pounded, what had changed? When had he changed? Nothing made any sense at all.

All you could think about was how badly you wanted to just get home and cry as hard as you could.

You raced through your dorm hall, counting he doors until you reached your own.

You unlocked your dorm in one swift motion and slammed it behind you. You casted a silencing spell just as quickly as you had shut the door.

You screamed.

You screamed so loud you thought your throat was gonna give out. You slowly slid down against the wall you were leaning against as you continued to cry.

Where did you go from here? Everything you had planned for yourself included Theodore. Everything you did included him. You didn't remember a time when you didn't have him by your side at this school.

You started to piece things together, everything starting to become much clearer.

Even though you and him had been together for about six months, he insisted on not wanting to go official because of How people wouldn't approve. How he would ruin your reputation. Ha, funny to think of that now, simply for the fact that he revealed he was embarrassed of you. He didn't want you to ruin his reputation.

You cried at the realization, the screams no longer coming out.

This continued for some time, eventually you cried yourself to sleep. If you could even call it cry, at that point, there were no tears left to cry.

——

The Slytherin common room was quiet, except for the quiet fire crackling in the mere background.

But Theodore couldn't help but zone it all out.

He sat in the love seat with his legs wide open, his leg bouncing up and down quickly.

Your expression after he had crushed your heart into millions of pieces replayed in his mind for the millionth time that night.

He'd always be so quick to hurt anyone who ever made you hurt, but now that he was the one that had caused you such distress, he couldn't help but be filled with self loathe.

Then he remembered the reason. He had to do it. He had no other choice but to break your heart so you'd never love him again.

You shouldn't love a monster like him.

Especially not after his father had told him about his relation with the dark lord. His family was involved with horrible things, he was Involved with horrible things.

He always thought he deserved better, but he held too much love for you to let you go.

Then he realized what his father had been planning for him. What he had for his future.

He couldn't bring you down with him. You had so many things planned for yourself, you had a life to live. He couldn't bear to see you get dragged down by him.

You. His piccola colomba. His principessa. His mondo. He would rather stay loving you from afar than infect you with his disease. His curse.

He felt the tears welling up in his eyes as he looked at the bracelet on his wrist, the one you had the matching half too. He should've thrown in the fireplace, go ahead and get it over with.

But he could never, for it was all he had left of you and him.

His brain went over the argument again, remembering the blonde girl you had referred too.

That was the girl his father had set him up to marry, the one that he expected him too marry.

She was the ideal wife in his father’s eyes; she was pureblood, top of her class, and a fantastic wizard.

Theodore could've given two shots about any of that, because as long as she wasn't you he'd never love her. He'd never love anyone. Not like he loved you. Not like he breathed for you.

No one could replicate how you held his very existence in your gentle hands.

He let the tears slip past his cheeks, not caring anymore. He had last the one thing he wanted. The only thing he'd ever needed.

He could feel his very heart breaking as he clutched his chest and his face twisted in pain; the pain of losing his Amore.

——

Two weeks had passed since that night. The night you left your heart on the concrete out by the garden.

Your friends were so worried for you, forcing you to leave your dorm after the first three days and you still hadn't left. You were completely and utterly broken.

You forced yourself to attended school, your parents would kill you if you failed over just some boy.

Except he wasn't just some boy. He was the love of your life. He'd always hold that spot, even if he didn't want to anymore.

Everyone was just trying to get to their classes, the hallways filled to the brim with people. You numbed shoulder with a few people, offering them nothing more than a quiet "my bad."

Your shoulders hung low. You had tried your best that morning to put yourself together; you wanted to look somewhat presentable, but everyone knew something had happened. Your baggy eyes and solemn look were a clear tell tale sign of your state.

The passing period was only a short 3 minutes, but usually it felt as if you were given thirty seconds to race to your next class. This time however, it felt more like three hours.

Your feet dragged heavily behind you, your mind somewhere off in the distance.  Class seemed to fly by, the professors words muffled by your thoughts, to be more specific, your lack of thoughts.

It was clear to you, and anybody who knew you on first name basis, you were miserable.

——

"You're a fucking idiot." Pansy sat, mouth ajar and eyes wide open as she listened to Theodore nott.

"No, I'm not. I'm protecting her, I can't let myself ruin her."  He said through gritted teeth, the cigarette in his hand nearly crumbling beneath his grip.

He hadn't smoked since he'd gotten with you, you'd made sure of it. Of course he'd listen to his beautiful girl, anything to make you happy. He turned to the only thing he had without you.

"Salazar save me..Theodore. You aren't protecting shit. She's already ruined, and you did that by leaving her." She nearly spat the words, her expression nothing short of sour. "That girl loved you, she told me every chance she could get. I don't know what weird shit you got going on, but I can tell you that she is the only person who would hold your hand through it."

Theodore stared at the ground, his eyes fixated on the wooden flooring.

He knew she was right. He knew she was hurting more than he'd ever intended. He couldn't help but want to punch the wall next to him, but he decided to refrain from violence.

"I," he paused for a moment, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I'm so fucking stupid.., ho ferito l'unica persona che amavo veramente." He clutched his head in his hands. (I hurt the only person I truly loved.)

"Yeah. You are. " she said with little to no sympathy in her voice. "You are an idiot, an idiot who needs to fix what he fucked up."

He knew exactly what she meant, but he as unsure if you'd want to see him, unsure if you be okay with letting the man who broke your heart into your dorm.

He remembered all the horrible things he said and could barely hold back the pain that wanted to erupt into his heart. He had to make it right. He had to do it for his sweet girl. His columba. His future.

He gave pansy one last glance and then left the room with no more words exchanged between the two.

——

You sat in front of your mirror, picking at any spot that stuck out on your face.

You had just finished your nightly routine, slowly checking off each box form your nightly ritual. All except one; wallow in self pity, which happened to be your recent favorite.

Your hands stopped their ministrations on your face as you heard a knock on the door. Who'd be here at this hour?

You got up and walked to your door, trying to brainstorm on who it could be, maybe your friends asking for there homework answers, or a prefect doing room checks.

You opened the door ready to greet the person with a smile.

Your heart dropped.

Oh. It was him. Theodore was standing at your door, looking disheveled and frantic.

Your words died in your throat as you suddenly felt helpless.

"Hi." He said without breaking eye contact. You just stared at him unable to respond with confidence.

"Why are you here.?" You said with heartbreak lacing your sorrowful tone.

"I...I know I'm probably the last person you want to see," you wrapped you arms around yourself, attempting to comfort yourself. You stopped yourself from interrupting him and let him continue. "But I..just need to tell you the truth."

You stared at him with a confused expression.

"you've told me more than enough, Nott." Your words came out airy, and high pitched.

"No—no. I have not." He stated while staring into your very soul, stripping you bare.

You looked at him through your eyelashes, holding back every hateful thing you had to say.

"Come inside." You said while sighing deeply. Theodore's eyes shot open with shock, eagerly stepping inside your dorm room.

You stood by your closet door, waiting for him to continue, eyes watery and lips quivering.

"I'm— im so sorry... I thought that-that maybe if I ended things I could protect you. Maybe if I broke your heart you would hate my guts and leave." He sputtered out all his words at once while his voice shook and for the first time since you and him had gotten together, you saw Theodore Nott cry.

"Protect me? What could you possibly be protecting me from by leaving me." You wanted to hold him  and console the boy who had shown you nothing but love, but you couldn't let a few tears break you.

He sighed at your words.

"Amore, I was protecting you from me. I don't deserve you, and I can't let myself intoxicate you. You're too...perfect." He nearly whispered as he took a step closer.

"Dont do that," you said softly "don't say all that..., you told me you were just using me." Your eyes overfilled with tears, a few slipping past your cheek bones.

"I know. I know what I said , and if I could beat myself up for hurting you I would. I thought I was doing the right thing by leaving you, but I was so, so wrong." He explained through a strained voice.

You wiped your face, trying to understand what he was saying. "Theodore im confused, i have loved you ever since third year. I gave you my everything, what made you think you could've scared me off now?" You questioned with your brows furrowed.

He took a deep breath in.

"I'm not—I'm not a good person, Bambina. My family Aren't good people. They want to...hurt people and they're taking me down with them. I couldn't let them take you too, not when you mean the most anyone has ever meant to me, Bella Ragazza."

You let out a shaky sigh as your eyes grew a little wider.

It was silent for a while before you finally figured out what you wanted to say.

"First, it doesn't matter what happens, I will always love you, Theo." You looked him in the eyes with tears streaming down your face and hitting the wooden floors gently.

"Second," you closed your eyes for a moment.

"I want to forgive you so bad, I want to hug and kiss you with so much need, but....im still so hurt and confused." You mumbled while rubbing the sides of your arms.

Theodore wanted to stab himself in the heart for making you cry this much.

"I understand that, colomba. Ask me anything and I will give you nothing but the truth." He stated while taking another step towards you.

"That—that girl. You still were with that girl," you muttered "even if you were protecting me."

His eyes widened for a moment before he gained his composure.

"That was Irene, the girl my father had set me up to marry. She had approached me that day in hopes of getting to know me, and I just blew her off." He claimed.

You looked at him, trying to understand the boy you were in love with. Every time you'd thought you knew everything about him, it somehow became more clear that you didn't at all.

"You don't have to forgive me now, but I need you to know that there is no one after you. Sei e sarai il mio primo ed unico more. I will love you until my heart stops beating, and I will never forgive myself for the way I hurt you over these past few weeks." He stated through voice cracks and small hiccups.

You let a sob rip through you once again.

"I thought I was doing the right thing, but I realize now that I was being selfish. And for that I am eternally sorry." He exclaimed with a gruff voice.

You saw the tears slip past his face, the way he stood with defeat and sorrow pulsing through his body. You couldn’t watch anymore.

You took two large strides towards him and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight embrace. He wasted no time in hugging you back, pressing his lips to your head gently.

He missed you more than he could ever explain in words, your scent alone gave him an unhealthy dose of serotonin.

“I’m so sorry.” He sniffled. You both stood there for awhile, allowing yourselves to make up for missed time.

“I’m so, so sorry, Amore.” He said while pulling you back to look in your eyes.

“I know, Theo. I know.” You reassured him with a soft caress through his curly locks.

He slowly brought his own lips to meet your own, bringing you into a hungry yet gentle kiss.

His lips danced with yours the kiss slowly becoming more than just soft pecks. A sudden surge of heat ran through your body as you slowly pushed him towards your bed.

The back of his knees hit your bed causing him to fall backwards on it, and you wasted no time in straddling him.

His hands secured your hips on his laps as he let his lips wander from your mouth. He showered your neck and collarbone in sloppy kisses.

“Theo..” you moaned out, hands making their way into his hair.

“You deserve so much better than me, colomba.” He groaned imbetween his ministrations on your neck.

You gasped as you felt his hands digging into the fat of your ass.

You then felt a wave of doubt hit you. You remembered how his parents had set him up with that girl, how the whole reason he had ended it was because of his parents; how would everything work out now, it’s not like anything had changed.

“Theodore…your father.” You mumbled as you pulled his head from your neck.

“Dont really think my father is my main issue right now,” he gave you a lopsided grin as you felt the hard on he had been trying to hide under you.

You slapped his chest playfully.

“No, I mean.. he doesn’t want us together. How is everything gonna work out if he’s the reason we couldn’t work in the first place.” You questioned doubtfully.

He looked at your with love lacing his already cloudy eyes, his large hand coming up to play with the hair in your face. He knew exactly in this moment what he was missing his entire life, why he felt so incapable of loving someone. It’s because he hadn’t met you yet.

When his mother died and he saw how little his father cared, he had thought that love wasn’t real. That it was simply just a concept, a mere after thought at most.

But you taught him the truth.

You taught him that love wasn’t just some feeling, it was a person. And for him, that person was you.

“I don’t care about what he wants y/n, because I know what I want. I know that I want to spend the rest of my life with you, I know that I want to be your one and only.” He said breathlessly,

“I know that I want you.”

[losver07]

regulus black would be the kind to laugh at the most stupid, terribly bad jokes because he's never been told jokes as a kid. he'd go to pandora thinking he's the master of comedy and say some shit like "what does a rock tell another rock?" nearly unable to contain his laughter

i mean he wouldn't laugh when he heard it for the first time (babe's got a reputation to maintain) but he'd have like a mental collection of "the best jokes ever" and they'd all start with "knock knock"

[wishchthumblr]

so i like to imagine its kind of like an unspoken tradition at hogwarts to carve or write your name/initials in your bed before you graduate so later students can get a little mystery trying to figure out who slept in their dorm before them

so what if in aus where Harry is sorted into slytherin, instead of JP being scratched into the post of his gryffindor dorm bed, in a slightly hidden part of the frame in his slytherin dorm bed it says R.A.B in nearly carved letters

and what if (especially if this is an au where slytherin harry is an evil little shit (as a treat)) he eventually finds another older carving on his bed that says T.M.R

[valoflunar]

Regulus is always referred to as the “little brother” by everyone in the skittles despite him being the most adult-like adult in the group Like Dorcas will gush over him over growing like 2 cm and Pandora gives a look to barty and Evan whenever they swear infront of regulus

[oi-what-the-fuck]

real

//found on pinterest

[agreeewrites]

hiii <33

first i want to say that i absolutely ADORE your page on here, your writing is just wow, perfection!! i really liked your sirius story (even tho i strayed off a bit and started liking rabastan too ahahahah-) it's amazing omg

and i was wondering would you be up for writing for barty? anything with him honestly lol, but if you don't have any ideas feel free to ignore this!

SAY LESSSSSSS (I've been dying for someone to request Barty or rosekiller pls send all the requests). Also! so glad you enjoyed that fic! (I played myself and kinda fell for Rab too 😬)

I Wanna Be Yours | BCJ

feat. Barty Crouch Jr. x blackcat!reader

SUMMARY: Barty is determined to win your affection, but due to his larger-than-life personality and your aloof nature, you find it difficult to trust his intentions.

CW: MDNI 18+, smut, pov switches once, a little angst and a little fluff, blackcat!reader, artist!Barty, only soft for each other, mentions of drinking and drug use, strong language, sort of insecure!reader, Barty is a giant simp

AN: i'm having my scene music renaissance, and something about that era is so Barty-coded. I have a few other songs that suit him in my mind, but I'd love to hear any ideas you guys might have!

masterlist | more blackcat!reader

“Honestly, I don't know what Slughorn’s problem is. If I want to make a love potion that makes Xeno hard for four days, I can—”

“Four days and I would die of deprivation,” Xenophilius chuckled, his arm draped over Pandora's shoulders.

“Sure, but what a way to go.”

You walked beside them, half-listening to their sugar-dipped conversation, equal parts disgusted and deeply jealous. You'd never admit it, but you so badly wanted what your best friend had. Devotion, affection, complete and total acceptance. But you walked through life like a spring-loaded trap, biting the fingers off anyone that dared come close.

“Should we grab dinner before heading to the library? I'm starved,” Pandora said, turning her attention to you.

“Sure, it's probably quiet this early anyways—”

“Going to dinner, are we?” Evan bound up between Xeno and Pandora, throwing his arms over their shoulders. “I'm fucking ravenous.”

Two arms looped around your waist, hauling you back into a solid chest. The familiar scent of clove cigarettes and paint enveloped you, as if you needed any clues to know exactly who had the audacity to handle you so boldy.

“As am I,” Barty purred against the shell of your ear.

You wriggled in his hold, slapping at his forearms until he released you. “Not in the mood, Junior,” you warned, ignoring the way your stomach flipped when you met his dark eyes, eyeliner smudged along his lashes.

“Aw, don't be cross, gorgeous. You looked like you needed a hug,” he teased, falling into step between you and Pandora, slowing his natural gait considerably. He snatched your books from your arms, ignoring your protest and cradling them against his chest. He was dressed in a white dress shirt and a Slytherin vest, his tie loose and sleeves pushed up, hand-poked tattoos sprawling and dark against his forearms.

“I'm fairly certain she needs a hug as much as she needs your dumbass in her space,” Pandora said, rolling her eyes. “Which is not at all.”

“Oh, she needs me.” Barty grinned. “She just doesn't know it yet.”

“Give it a rest, Crouch,” Xeno cut in. “Keep pushing her and you'll end up on the bottom of the Black Lake.”

“Oh, how exciting! How will you do it, treasure? Stabbing? Maiming? Choking? Oh Merlin’s fuck, please say choking—”

“Maiming sounds about right,” you bit, attempting to get your books back, but he was far too tall, holding them way above your head. You wouldn't give him the satisfaction of jumping for it, and crossed your arms over your chest with a huff.

“You can maim me whenever you like,” he said, a cheeky smirk on his stupid, handsome face. “Will you do it now if I ask nicely?”

You ignored him, looking forward again.

Barty Crouch Jr. loved nothing more than fucking with you, finding the gaps in your armor and trying to pry them open. But no matter how attractive you found him, because saints was he attractive, or how endearing he could be in the in-between moments, you refused to play his game.

You would not be made a fool of, not like every other person he set his sights on and got bored with a week later.

“So are we eating or what?” Evan asked, walking backwards at the front of the group. Any student unfortunate enough to be in his path quickly scurried out of it, cowed by the Slytherin's reputation for retaliation.

You watched them shrink away from Barty too, who clearly got some sick sense of pleasure from it. He even bared his teeth at a Gryffindor that veered to close to you, flipping your bodies around so he was on the outside and you were next to Pandora again.

“I'm actually going to head back to the dorm,” you said, slowing so you fell out of line with them. “See you later?” You said to Pandora, who gave you a tight frown.

“Are you sure?” She asked, tilting her head like an avian.

“Yeah, you guys enjoy,” you said, pretending you didn't see the disappointment flash across Barty’s face as you turned on your heel, letting the opposite flow of students sweep you up and away from your friends.

The truth was, Barty scared the shit out of you. He was everything you weren't: outgoing, bold, rebellious, and just charming enough to get himself out of whatever mess he and Evan made. And for whatever reason, he was obsessed with pushing your buttons. And he did, with infuriating efficiency.

Pandora insisted it was all in good fun, that he was harmless, but you knew better. You saw the way he manipulated others to get what he wanted, the way he masked his calculation with charisma.

Barty Crouch Jr. was far from harmless, and even if he had his friends fooled, he would not fool you.

Barty's POV

Barty watched your head bob away through the crowded corridor, your books still heavy in his arms and guilt gnawing a hole in his chest.

Why couldn't he just fucking control himself? He felt like a noxious ball of energy, filling whatever available space he could, unable to contain his own impulses, a slave to his own existence.

He just wanted you so badly. You occupied every part of his mind, owned every thump of his wretched, ruined heart. He was irrevocably, intrinsically yours, but you couldn't stand him, and it was largely his own damn fault.

Because he was broken. Couldn't hold a normal conversation. Couldn't flirt in a way that wasn't deeply vulnerable, or obscene and intense. For Merlin’s sake, he'd begged you to choke him just now.

You were a fix he couldn't get, so he was suffering withdrawals from a drug he never had. He was going mad with it, the desperation for your attention. He would do anything to hear you say his name, to occupy an ounce of space in that beautiful brain, even if meant looking like an idiot. Like a psycho.

It was worth it just to have you look.

After dinner, the four of them returned to the Slytherin common room, Barty still carrying your books with a wrapped bundle on top. Every step towards your shared dorm with Pandora made his heart beat faster, a nervous sweat collecting along his spine.

Nothing made him nervous like you did.

Barty walked into the room last, his eyes immediately drifting towards your bed even though he tried to resist. You were curled up against a pile of pillows, surrounded by parchment and open books, your quill scribbling furiously across the page in your lap.

You glanced up when they entered, meeting his eyes for a split second, low-lidded and disinterested, per usual, and turned your attention back to your work.

The dismissal itched like a bug under his skin, his blood going hot and tingly. He needed you to look at him again.

He set your books on your desk and kicked off his shoes, flopping onto your bed before he really thought about it. It was softer than his, covered with quilts and pillows, and he noticed a little stuffed cat tucked away under your covers. He could smell you all around him, so sweet and warm, and whatever rationality he had left dissolved into goo.

“Who invited you?” You snapped, shoving at his shoulder with little success. A swell of affection at your pitiful attempt made his heart beat quicken, you were just so fucking cute.

He set the paper bundle on your chest. “Thought you might be hungry, sweetness,” he said, hugging one of your pillows to his chest.

Merlin, you were so beautiful when you glared at him like that. He filed the image away for later, mentally sifting through his paint collection for the perfect shade to match your pout.

You looked a bit perplexed at the package, almost angry, and his anxiety returned, fighting through the haze caused by your proximity. “You brought me food?”

He nodded, biting back ‘and dessert too’. He wanted you to actually eat the food, not throw it at his head.

Hesitantly, you unfolded the bundle, as if he'd given you something rotten, or was pulling a prank. It made his lungs squeeze with guilt. He was shitty to a lot of people, most people. But not to you, never you.

Your brow softened with relief when you realized it was just a sandwich, before quickly furrowing again. He wanted to smooth it with his lips, kiss you until it never creased with worry again.

“I'm not hungry,” you said, setting the bag on the side table. A twinge of hurt stabbed between his ribs, but didn't let his smile falter. He knew that's what you would say. And he also knew you would eat it later, when no one was around to see you accept a small gesture of kindness.

That was good enough for him.

You slid out of your bed, leaving his side cold, and he stretched out against your sheets, wallowing in your residual warmth like a niffler in a pile of gold.

The others chatted around you, Xeno lighting up a joint by the cracked window, but you sat down at your desk, turning back to your work and tuning them out.

Barty sighed, letting his eyes flutter closed so he could pretend he was wrapped in you body instead of your sheets, his nose buried into your hair instead of your pillow.

Reader's POV

You and Pandora walked arm in arm into the library, chatting about the idiots in your Transfiguration class. You were headed to your usual spot at the back of library, a collection of over stuffed chairs by a stained glass window overlooking the Forbidden Forest, and stopped short when you saw Regulus, Evan, and Barty already there.

Barty was reclined in the window, his long legs propped up against the other side, a sketchbook in his lap, quill between his teeth.

“Excuse the hell out of me,” Pandora said, startling them all from their abnormal quiet.

Barty's head snapped up, his eyes immediately landing on you, and he about fell out of the window.

“What? Like you own this table?” Evan drawled, not looking up from his book,his expensive loafers propped up on the table.

“Yes,” Pandora shot back, dropping down beside him and pulling out her books with clear agitation. "So if you're staying, keep your mouth shut."

Evan mimed zipping his lips and crossed his heart. Barty just turned back to his sketchbook instead of sauntering over to you with some cheeky quip on his tongue.

A prickle of uncertainty climbed your neck. Perhaps you really had upset him about that sandwich. You wish you hadn't said you were hungry as soon as it came out of your mouth, but you were too proud to apologize. You were so stunned by the gesture, so overwhelmed by his body pressed against you, his warmth mixing with yours, that you clammed up. Shut him down.

But even now, you couldn't bring yourself to approach him and apologize. Thank him. So, you sat down beside Regulus, the only other member of the group you found tolerable most of the time, and he greeted you with a dip of his chin.

You pulled out your work, determined to pretend Barty wasn't there at all.

Of course, you failed. Your eye kept wandering back to him, his sharp jaw silhouetted by the light, his pierced brow furrowed in concentration as his hand moved across the page, silver rings adorning ink stained fingers. He was dressed down today, jeans and Slytherin sweater, the collar of his shirt underneath it crooked.

After an hour or so of quiet, he dozed off, his head lolled against the window, quill dangling loosely in his fingers. Barty did that a lot, slept in unusual places at unusual times when the quiet dragged on a little too long. Evan mentioned once that Barty struggled to sleep at night, insomnia or something, and even the draughts Madam Pomfry made him only worked sometimes.

Unable to quell your curiosity, you got up to retrieve another book, brushing past him and sparing a glance down at his sketchbook. Your own face stared back at you, framed with rough sketches of your hands, your eyes, the bow of your lips.

Your heart gave a painful lurch, a burst of affection making your bones soften, and you nearly stumbled over the carpet, catching yourself on the bookshelf at the last second.

You hurried down another row, praying none of your friends saw you, and braced yourself against the shelf.

Did Barty like you? Like, actually like you? You couldn't fathom it. It didn't make sense. You weren't kind to him, or outgoing, or special. He was all of those things and more, the most fascinating, maddening, all-consuming person you'd ever met in your life.

Surely, he didn't see all of those things in you? But why would he draw you if he didn't see something of interest? Something he liked?

Fuck, you couldn't breathe in this stuffy library. You needed air.

You steeled yourself and walked back to the table, collecting your things.

“Something wrong, y/n?” Regulus asked, always too perceptive, and Barty stirred, picking his head up from the wall to peer at you through drowsy eyes.

“Nothing, I—”

Barty slid off the window and you lost your train of thought, heat scorching your cheeks. “Rushing off to hang out with your more interesting friends?” Barty asked, his voice a little gruff from his brief nap.

“More interesting friends? Not at Hogwarts,” Evan chuckled. “We're as interesting as it gets.”

“If you're bored, babygirl, all you had to was say so,” Barty hummed, striding up to you.

You placed a hand on his sternum to stop him from coming any closer, ignoring the flare of heat that accompanied the contact. “You were asleep five seconds ago,” you argued.

“Asleep and dreaming of all the ways I could keep you entertained.” He grinned, wicked and sharp, and the simmering heat spread to your lower belly, your heart beating fast.

“What are you, a fucking court jester?” You bit, unable to stop your arm bending as he pushed closer, the smell of ink and his cologne making your mouth water.

“I'm whatever you want me to be,” he flirted, and Regulus and Pandora groaned in unison.

“Will you leave her the fuck alone?” Regulus snapped, tugging Barty back by a belt loop. “She's not interested in your act, Junior.”

“Act?” Barty quirked a brow. “I’m dead serious.”

“Don't talk about his brother that way!” Evan shouted, far too excited to make the over-used joke once again, and you rolled your eyes. Apparently, the rare quiet time had come to an end.

“I don't give a fuck about his brother!”

“I don't give a fuck about you!”

“Oh, so you're a bitch and a liar?”

“I'm not a bitch, you cunt!”

“I'll see you guys at the party later,” you said, using their bickering as your window of escape. You all but fled the library, desperate for some fresh air and clarity.

If Barty sincerely liked you…did that change anything? Was there a way to know for sure how he felt? You didn't even know how you felt, not really. You'd never let yourself really consider it for fear of inevitable disappointment.

Sure, you found him attractive, everyone did. And yes, despite yourself you thought he was funny and sweet, in his own, odd way. And he was especially sweet to you. He never brought your other friends food, or waited for them after class, or snuggled in their beds. Well, besides Evan.

He didn't really touch anyone else either. But if you were close enough, as he often ensured you were, he was touching you whenever he could. Knocked together knees in the Great Hall, leaning on you during class no matter how many times you shoved him off, throwing his arms over your shoulder when it was cold, wrapping his pinky around yours in a particularly crowded hall.

Yes, his words were often obnoxious and bordering on insane, but his actions…his actions were sincere, thoughtful, almost tender.

Was that the real Barty?

Maybe you had been fooled just like everyone else into thinking he was nothing more than a joker, a rowdy troublemaker, when the reality was so much deeper.

Had you been all wrong about him?

By the time you and Pandora left your dorm room to join the party, the common room was a madhouse. Green lights flashed in time with the thumping bass, bodies dancing and mingling in every available spot on the dancefloor, a haze of smoke and glitter over their heads.

You were wearing a black mini dress and heels, held together by string and a prayer. Your hair hung in loose waves down your back, your eyeliner sharp and lips painted. You knew you looked good, lethal in the best way, but all you could think about was Barty's reaction.

Would he like it? Hate it? Or even worse, not even notice?

Together, you and Pandora moved through the crowd towards your friends usual place at the far side of the common room.

Of course, you spotted Barty first. He was leaning against the bar, dressed in all black, tailored trousers and a sleeveless undershirt. Apparently he ditched his actual shirt before you arrived in favor of displaying his countless tattoos, most of them done by his own hand. His hair was dark with pomade and pushed off of his face, glitter clinging to the sweat along his lean chest and shoulders.

He looked like a wet fucking dream.

Xeno let out a low whistle when you and Pandora stepped out from the crowd, drawing Barty's attention from Evan and Dorcas.

His jaw dropped instantly and with a dramatic flourish, he pretended to faint into Evan's arms, clutching at his heart. Despite yourself, you giggled, and Pandora shot you a surprised look through a gap in her boyfriends embrace.

“Are you trying to kill me?” Barty gasped, sliding out of Evan's arms and onto his knees. “Look at—baby, look at you!”

You flushed under the attention, your blood heating as it raced through your veins, but you just rolled your eyes at him, a new confidence blooming in your chest. He loved it.

You strode over to the bar, closing his mouth with a finger, and leaned against the counter. “Firewhisky?” You asked the student bartending, and they stared back at you, dumbstruck, before rushing to collect your drink.

Barty leaned against your legs, his cheek against your thigh. “What are you doing to me?” He whined up at you, feeding into your surge of confidence.

You pushed his head away, tugging at the roots of his hair before releasing him, and he groaned, a low, panty-melting sound. “I'm not doing anything. You're just insufferable,” you chastised, accepting your drink.

“And you're beautiful,” he said, sounding almost reverent, and you nearly choked on your drink.

“Fuck off and drool on someone else, yeah?” You snapped, overwhelmed by his candor, even though it was exactly what you thought you wanted.

Fuck, you didn't know what you wanted. And even when you did, it seemed your subconscious wasn't always in agreement. You had wanted him to drool over you. He was literally on his knees, but some broken part of your brain couldn’t accept it. So you pushed him away.

“C’mon, you simpering mutt,” Evan said, hauling Barty up. “I think I saw a kegger over there.”

Barty started to protest, but Evan and Regulus dragged him away.

“You should have some mercy,” Xeno said, leaning on the bar beside you.

“Oh?” You raised a brow at him, taking a sip of whisky.

“Poor prick is besotted,” Dorcas supplied.

“He's full of shit,” you bit, that panicky feeling crawling up your spine.

Pandora shook her head, and your eyes widened. “It's true, I’ve never seen him so fucked up over someone before.”

“He's not the obsessive type. Not when it comes to dating, at least. He loses interest as often as he changes his underwear. But he's been stuck on you for months,” Dorcas said.

“Yeah, he usually obsesses over like quill tips, and arson—”

“You guys are serious?” You asked, cutting off Xeno. “You think he actually likes me?”

They all stare at you, dumbfounded.

“You can't tell?” Pandora asked, grabbing your face and shaking you. “Babe, he's absolutely gone for you.”

“Like, gone gone,” Dorcas added.

“But it's Barty, I mean—he’s never serious—”

“Exactly, that's what makes it so obvious!” Pandora cried, exasperated. “I thought you knew!”

“Why would you think that!” You shouted back.

“Because he says it constantly!” Your friends yell in unison.

“He was on his knees, y/n. Like literally on his knees,” Xeno said, shaking his head. “It doesn't get much more devoted than that.”

Devoted. It clicked then, the signs you'd been brushing off, refusing to see clearly because of your own veil of distrust. Because you didn’t allow yourself to accept the truth out of fear. Barty had been showing you for months how he felt, and not just in his words, in his actions. Bringing you food when you were hungry, walking you from class to class, meeting your barbs and verbal lashes with a smile.

He’d been wearing his heart on his sleeve this entire time, and all you’d done is punish him for it.

Oh, fuck. How could you be so blind?

You set your drink on the bar and pushed through your friends, ignoring their calls as you forced your way through the crowd, searching for Barty in the sea of green. You found him standing with Evan and few other members of the Quidditch team, cheering while a fifth year shotgunned a dandelion draught.

“Barty!” You shouted over the roar, grabbing his wrist.

He turned, his eyes widening in surprise. “Y/n? Are you alr—where are we going?”

You dragged him into a shadowed alcove, slightly hidden from the party. Your heart was pounding in your ears, tears already burning behind your eyes. “Be honest with me,” you said, forcing yourself to hold his gaze.

“Always,” he said automatically, brow heavy with uncertainty.

“How do you feel about me?” You asked.

Understanding dawned, and Barty's expression melted into something painfully soft, painfully sincere. “I just wanna be yours.”

The admission stole the air from your lungs, made your heart freeze in place. "M-mine?"

“Yours,” he breathed, his hands finding your waist, grip tight as desperation filled his eyes. “Please, let me be yours.” He lowered to his knees again, his head by your navel. “I promise—I promise I’ll be good, if you’ll just give me a chance too—”

You leaned down and grabbed the silver chain around his throat like a collar, dragging his mouth to yours in a fervid, frantic kiss. He surged upwards, lifting you into the air and crushing you between his body and the wall, forcing air out of your lungs. You wrapped your legs around his narrow hips as his tongue pried open your mouth, desperate to taste you. Desire pumped through you, scalding hot and more potent than the whisky, making your head spin, your skin tingle.

You tugged at his hair, drawing him closer, and he whimpered low in his throat. Your cunt clenched at the sound, your thoughts turning singular: make him beg. Your tongue traced his lips, tasting beer and cigarette smoke, and you sucked his lower lip between your teeth, biting hard before soothing it with your tongue.

His hips canted up into your core, his hands moving down to squeeze your ass beneath your dress and grind your core against him. You gasped, breaking the kiss for a moment, and he seized the opportunity to pillage your mouth again, licking at your teeth and the roof of your mouth.

“Your dorm,” you panted, yanking his head back by the roots of his hair.

He didn’t hesitate, throwing you up and over his shoulder in a startling feat of strength.

“Barty!” you squealed, giggling and slapping at his back while he carried you to the stairs, his hand keeping your dress in place so you didn’t flash anyone. He couldn’t have made it any more obvious what was happening, and you found that you didn’t care. If you were going to be with Barty, you were going to have to get used to being loved out loud.

“Look at her ass again, see what happens!” You heard him bark, his voice a rumble through his ribcage, and you rolled your eyes, smiling to yourself as he carried you up the stairs.

A moment later, you were being tossed roughly onto his bed, the door slamming shut with a muttered alohomora. Barty crawled up your body, his dark eyes flashing with a feral hunger that made your pussy purr, and he dove into your neck with his teeth and tongue, making you gasp and arch into his body, your whole body alight with pleasure.

“Easy, baby,” you cooed, petting his hair to try and settle his frantic affection. Poor thing couldn’t seem to control himself, so worked up he was rutting against your thigh. “I’m not going anywhere, darling, relax.”

He whined into your neck, clutching at the fat of your lovehandles. “Need you so bad,” he groaned. “M’sorry, can’t help myself.”

You rolled over him, straddling his hips with yours. “I know, love. Just sit still and be good for me, yeah?”

He nodded vigorously, watching you kiss down his body with heavy-lidded eyes. You pushed up the hem of his undershirt, licking a stripe between the valley of his abdomen muscles, admiring the tattoos you’d only gotten glimpses of.

“So pretty, Bat,” you purred, and felt his cock twitch against your chest, his head falling back against the pillows. “Been wanting me this whole time?”

“Yes, so badly—fuck, treasure, please—” he moaned when you grazed your teeth along his hipbone, sucking the skin into your mouth to leave a mark. His hand tangled in your hair, rings cool against your scalp, and you released his skin with a pop, admiring the plum-colored bruise left behind. “I’m getting that tattooed,” he panted, dragging a thumb over your spit slick lips. “Swear to Salazar.”

You giggled, shifting further down to undo his trousers and finding that he apparently skipped boxers. His cock sprung out to slap against this stomach, rigid and flushed, a bead of pearly precum dripping down to his navel. Gently, you traced a finger over the protruding veins along his shaft, admiring him.

Barty hissed through his teeth, his muscles tensing to keep still.

“Good boy,” you praised, wrapping your hand loosely around him, pumping once, twice without any real pressure. He was long and slightly curved, gorgeous, and you couldn’t resist dragging your tongue up the root of him, feeling the velvety texture against your lips.

“Fucking shit, you’re going to kill me.” His fingers tightened in your hair as you lapped at the head, savoring the salty taste of him.

You looked up at him through your lashes, his head thrown back, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths, every muscle flexed tight. Fighting for his life to hold still.

“Baby,” he whined when you stopped, picking up his head to look down at you.

“Say your mine,” you ordered, hovering just over his cock, holding his wild-eyed gaze.

“I’m yours. I’m so fucking yours.”

You smiled and wrapped your lips around him, swallowing down as much of him as you could manage and he cried out, rough and breathless with relief. You bobbed up and down on his length, tongue pressing against the root of his cock and using your hand to stroke what you couldn’t reach, and you watched his soul leave his body.

“Baby, baby, baby,” he chanted, using your hair to lift and lower you a little faster, his control starting to falter as you pulled him apart. “Bloody hell, you’re way too good at this. What the fuck—oh saints. Your mouth feels like fucking heaven.”

You hummed in response, letting him push you further down, gagging on his length before he released you and you pulled off of him to catch your breath, a trail of drool connecting your lips and his head.

Barty groaned. “Never mind, I’m getting that tattooed. Right on my fucking forehead so every time I look in the mirror—”

You climbed back up his body and draped yourself over him, silencing him with a sloppy kiss, his tongue laving across your lips to taste himself. “Do you ever stop talking?” you teased, kissing the corner of his mouth, his cheekbone, his temple.

In a quick movement, he flipped you beneath him. “There’s one sure-fire way to shut me up,” he purred against your ear before kissing and licking down your neck and chest. Every pass of his lips was electric, a bolt of pleasure straight your weeping pussy, swollen against your panties and desperate for attention. “This dress,” he murmured, tracing the swell of your breast with his tongue. “Wear it for anyone in particular?”

“I wanted to see your reaction,” you admitted, gasping when his big hand came up to knead your tit, fingertips still a little stained from sketching. His rings were harsh against your skin, and you arched into him, relishing in his greedy touch.

“Sent me to my knees, sweetheart. Damn near killed me.” He pulled the top of you dress down, your tits spilling free, and he took one pert nipple into his mouth, lashing it with his tongue while he teased the other with his hand.

You keened, hands flying into his shaggy hair. Every pull of his mouth went straight to your cunt, making your hips buck against his thigh. He shifted to press his leg harder against you, letting you chase your pleasure, and hummed in approval against your chest.

The friction was amazing, buzzy heat spilling under your skin and making you moan and cling tighter to him, trembling with unspent energy. “Fuck, Barty—please.” You weren’t sure what you were begging for, but he seemed to understand you perfectly.

“Say your mine, treasure,” he said, biting at the side of your breast, and you yelped.

“Yes, Barty! All yours! Just please—”

He pushed two fingers into your mouth, silencing you while he shifted down your body. Without warning, he buried his face between your legs, licking and sucking at your pussy through your panties with an eagerness that made your eyes cross, your teeth sink down on his digits.

“So fucking sweet, baby. Melting like sugar f’me.” He yanked your panties down your legs and returned to his feasting, laving his long tongue through you before sucking hard at you clit. He slipped his fingers from your mouth, needing both hands to spread you open for his consumption.

Your mind was wiped clean, erased completely by all-consuming bliss as he practically mauled your pussy, vicious in his pursuit of your pleasure. His tongue fucked into you, the slurping loud and lewd, while he massaged your clit with his thumb. You dug your nails into his sheets, trying to stifle your screams into his pillow.

"So responsive, baby. Ready for more?" He asked, easing his middle finger inside of your clenching channel, curling against the gooey spot behind your pelvic bone that made you melt into the mattress. Adding a second finger, he started nursing your clit again, letting his dexterous artist’s fingers coax you open.

Once you were moaning, loose and languid against the mattress, he ramped back up, working your g-spot like it stole something from him he was hellbent on getting back. He dragged his teeth against your clit, soothing the flare of pain with his tongue, and you felt yourself draw tight, teetering on the edge of oblivion.

“Barty—oh God, I’m going to come��oh fuck, oh fuck!” You lifted almost completely off the bed as your orgasm slammed into you, ripping through sinnew and bone to consume your heart, devour you entirely.

Barty slowed his ministrations, dragging his tongue through your spasming pussy with long, lush licks, his hold tight on your thighs when you started to inch away from him, your body twitching and shaking as you came down from your high.

“That’s my treasure, so fucking gorgeous when you come for me,” he hummed, smiling against your skin, and nuzzled his nose against your clit while he withdrew his fingers, making you jump and whine. “Not so mean now, are you, sweetness?”

You shook your head, trembling and weak, completely boneless beneath him.

"So soft for me, hm?" He dragged you down the bed, throwing one of your calves over his shoulder while he swiped the head of his cock through your messy slit. “Better hold onto something, darling. You've got me at the end of my leash.”

You wrapped your hands around the bars of his headboard and he grinned, a wicked slash across his handsome face.

“Fuck, I knew you were perfect for me.” He notched his cock at your entrance and with a smooth roll of his hips, buried himself to the hilt. You both cried out, the fullness, the stretch more intense than anything you’d felt before. “I was fucking made for you, baby,” he groaned, dragging his hips back before snapping them forward, your pussy fluttering around him.

“Fuck, B, feels so good,” you mewled, rocking your hips to meet his thrust for thrust, the bed creaking loudly beneath you.

He used his hold on your elevated leg to lift your hips off the bed, ratcheting up to a punishing pace, making you scream and thrash on the bed while he fucked you with every ounce of desperation and determination he’d harbored over the last few months. His teeth sunk into your calf, hard enough to send a bolt of pain down your leg and make you cry out, heightening the pleasure radiating from your core until you were teetering on the edge again, every graze of his cockhead against your cervix winding you tighter, higher—

“Shit, baby, I’m gonna come soon,” he grunted, his thrusts growing sloppy, erratic and rough, and you could only nod. “Can feel it, tres. C’mon, babygirl, come with me. Please, need to feel you come around me, m’dying for it, please, please—”

You came with a scream, your vision whiting out as sunlight blazed through you, eviscerating every ounce of tension, trepidation, fear, and leaving you a beacon of light, nothing but giddy, delirious stardust.

“Fuck, yes, that’s it—fuck!” Barty came a heartbeat after you, the swelling and throbbing of his cock as he painted your inside white prolonging your release, wringing every drop of pleasure from you until you both collapsed onto the bed, chests heaving and sticky with sweat, the glitter from his skin decorating yours.

You reached for him, trembling and raw, and he gathered you into his chest, kissing your cheeks and forehead with a dizzying gentleness. “Barty,” you breathed, hands curling against his chest, too overwhelmed with feeling to say anything else.

“I’m yours,” he whispered, cradling your face to bring your gaze to his. “I’m yours.”

You nodded, leaning forward to kiss him, taste him again, letting the warmth of his body, the heavy beat of his heart, ground you in the reality of this moment. Barty was yours, and you were his. And you were safe. He wanted you despite your attitude, your armor, your callousness. He wanted you exactly as you were, more than happy to lay in the shadows with you, or draw you out into his light to dance.

“And I’m yours,” you breathed against his lips, and he smiled.

“I'll be right back,” he murmured, pressing a delicate kiss to your head before flying out of bed and wrenching open the door, his cock barely stuffed back into his pants. “SHE’S FUCKING MIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNEEEEEEE!” He screamed down the stairs to the party.

A chorus of cheers rang out, reaching you from the common room. You buried your face into his pillow, laughter bubbling up despite the embarrassment scorching your cheeks.

Barty whirled around, a maniac’s grin on his face, and he dove back into bed, determined to stake his claim as many times as possible before sunrise.

© agreeewrites 2025. do not copy, translate or claim my writing as your own.

[lumosflairr]

omg i need more of harry and slytherin reader your writing is literally amazing!!

Velvet and Firelight

summary: Harry sneaks into the Slytherin Common Room to see his favorite snake ♡

warnings: none! just fluff.

I’m so happy you enjoy my work!! Thank you for your request love❤️

The fire in the Slytherin common room crackled low, casting a flickering green glow across the stone walls. Most of the house had gone to bed. You were curled up on one of the leather couches, a book in your lap and your wand tucked beside you just in case. You were waiting.

And then — that familiar shift in air.

You didn’t even look up as a pair of arms suddenly slipped around your shoulders from behind, and the Invisibility Cloak fluttered to the floor like a silken sigh.

“You’re late, Potter,” you murmured, smiling.

“Got held up by Filch,” Harry said, breath tickling your ear. “I had to pretend I was going to the Owlery. Pretty sure he saw my foot.”

You turned your head just slightly, close enough to brush your nose against his. “You’d think the Boy Who Lived would be better at sneaking.”

“You’d think a Slytherin wouldn’t fall for a Gryffindor with terrible stealth,” he shot back.

You laughed softly. Harry tugged you closer into his lap, burying his face in your shoulder like he was finally home. His fingers traced lazy circles over your jumper.

“You know,” he murmured, “this place is nicer than I imagined. I thought you all lived in a cold, snake-infested pit.”

“It is a cold, snake-infested pit,” you said sweetly. “We just decorate.”

Harry chuckled and kissed your temple. “If anyone walks in right now, I’m dead. You know that, right?”

“If anyone walks in, you’re diving under the couch,” you replied, grinning.

He lifted his head just enough to meet your eyes. “And you’ll cover for me?”

“Of course not. I’ll let you suffer.” You leaned in until your lips brushed his. “Then I’ll visit you in detention with a smug smile.”

“Mmm.” His voice dropped. “Worth it.”

He kissed you slow — warm and soft and filled with everything he didn’t say out loud during the day. Everything he couldn’t. The hidden glances across the Great Hall, the secret brushes of your fingers as you passed in the corridor… this made all of it worth it.

You pulled back after a moment, breathless and glowing. “You’re going to get us both caught.”

“I’m willing to take the risk,” Harry said, fingers laced with yours. “You’re the best part of my day.”

Your heart squeezed. And then you heard footsteps.

Your eyes widened. Harry froze. You jumped up, dragging him behind the green velvet curtains that hung along the windows. Pressed chest-to-chest, barely breathing, you could hear the soft murmurs of two second-years walking through.

“swear I heard something,” one whispered “Probably Peeves,” the other said. “Let’s go. This place gives me the creeps at night.”

As the voices faded, Harry exhaled. “Close one.”

You looked up at him, nose wrinkling. “You’re terrible at this.”

“I’m excellent at this,” he whispered, ducking down to kiss you again, hidden behind shadows and silk. “Especially when you’re the prize.”

——————

The next morning, you were pouring tea at the Slytherin table, still a little flushed from lack of sleep (and maybe the memory of your boyfriend’s mouth on yours behind a velvet curtain).

Across the table, Draco narrowed his eyes at you.

“You were up late,” he said casually, cutting into his toast. “Heard someone moving around the common room after hours.”

You sipped your tea innocently. “Oh? Maybe you were dreaming again. Didn’t you say you saw a ghost in your mirror last week?”

Draco ignored that. “Funny thing is… I swear I heard whispering. A male voice. Definitely not Slytherin.”

You tilted your head, feigning confusion. “What, you think I smuggled in a Gryffindor for a midnight tryst? That’s bold of you, Malfoy.”

His fork paused mid-air. “I didn’t say you did.”

You smiled sweetly. “Didn’t you?”

Draco blinked. Then scoffed. “If I find out Potter was in our common room—”

“You’ll do what?” you asked, still smiling, but there was a quiet steel behind it. “Tell Snape someone broke into the dungeon and still didn’t want to talk to you?”

[ev3rm0re-q]

half a spell | part one ˚⋆｡°✩

synopsis: With the Yule Ball fast approaching, Beomgyu enlists you—his best friend—as his wingman in a bold plan to win over Kim Chaewon, the school’s golden girl. In return, he promises to find you the perfect date, sparking a ridiculous series of interviews. Meanwhile, you’re quietly drawn to Kai, a reserved Hufflepuff whose tutoring sessions slowly unravel something unexpected between you. But as your connection with Kai grows and Beomgyu edges closer to asking Chaewon out, something unspoken begins to shift between the two of you—just in time to make everything so fucking complicated.

pairing: gryffindor bestfriend!Beomgyu x gryffindor fem!reader, hufflepuff!Kai x gryffindor fem!reader

genre: hogwarts AU, bestfriends-to-lovers, wingman-to-lover, slow-burn romance, unrequited crush, jealousy sparking realization, love triangle (?)

warning/s: lots of swearing, slow burn as fuck

wc: 14.6k

a/n: omgg ive always wanted to write a hogwarts AU ficc LMAOO my guilty pleasure lowk omg. i was originally going to focus on beomgyu in this fic but i was like... hueningkai as a hufflepuff tho.. so here we aree. i rlly hope u guys like this bc damn did this take me a long time to write like omll

“We’re fucking doomed.”

Beomgyu dramatically drops his head onto the table with a dull thud, narrowly missing an open ink bottle.

It’s mid-afternoon.

The Great Hall during this time is supposed to be for quiet study—OWLs prep, strictly enforced and monitored by professors.

Key word: quiet.

Instead, the hall hums with restless energy. Sunlight streams through towering windows, casting light over scattered notes and half-abandoned textbooks.

The usual quiet has faded, replaced by soft whispers and the occasional burst of laughter that no one bothers to hush anymore. Quills drag lazily across wrinkled parchments, pages turned without much focus. Some people look like they haven’t slept in days; others glow, lost in the haze of delusional infatuation.

No one’s really paying attention anymore. Concentration slipping—gradually, piece by piece. A Fizzing Whizzbee pops with a sharp fizz beneath the Slytherin table, followed by a muffled snort or someone kicking their friend under the table.

At one end of the hall, a group of Hufflepuffs have given up entirely, huddled around hand-drawn dress sketches, giggling behind their cupped hands. Across the room, a Ravenclaw boy stumbles over his bag, too distracted by the girl beside him to notice his scrolls spilling out like breadcrumbs.

And above it all, talk of the Yule Ball lingers in the air like perfume—faint, sweet, and fucking everywhere.

Ah, yes. The Yule Ball.

Announced weeks ago by Dumbledore—twinkle-eyed and dramatic as always—and somehow, the news still clings to every hallway like a lovesick ghost. It’s the kind of event that manages to distract even the most disciplined minds.

Some students are practically glowing with excitement. Others? Well, they’re spiraling. Hard.

It’s everywhere. And it’s only getting worse. I mean, even the castle ghosts have started gossiping.

You’d think that with the Triwizard Tournament in full swing and OWLs just right around the corner, people would be too stressed to care.

But no—somehow, who’s asked who to the dance is still the main thing on everyone’s minds. At this point, it’s painfully clear half the student body has officially lost their minds.

And unfortunately, at the Gryffindor table... that includes my friends.

Beomgyu’s voice breaks the silence with a dramatic, hopeless tone loud enough to earn a few startled looks from nearby.

“Doomed how exactly?” I ask, not bothering to look up from my notes.

He lifts his head just enough to shoot me a glare. “Doomed as in doomed. The Yule Ball is in, what, two weeks? And none of us have dates. Or plans. Or hope.”

“Speak for yourself,” Nari cuts in from beside him. “I might have a plan.”

“You said that yesterday,” Jungwon reminds her. “Then you chickened out the second Kang Taehyun asked you what time it was.”

“Okay, well—he looked at me,” she defends herself.

Beomgyu groans out loud, before dropping his quill like he’s just sealed our collective fate. “Yep. This is it. We’re done for.”

Nari scoffs softly. “You’re being way too dramatic.”

“I’m being accurate,” he says, slumping back in his chair like he’s mourning his own future. “The ball’s in two weeks, and I’m still date-less, dress-robe-less, and dangerously close to just throwing myself into the Black Lake.”

I finally look up, exchange a quick glance with Nari, then shift my attention back to the boy in front of me.

“I thought you didn’t care about dances,” I say.

“I didn’t,” he groans once more, face now smushed into his Charms notes. “And then people started getting dates. Hot dates. And now I’m panicking.”

“You panic every time someone looks at you for more than three seconds,” Jungwon comments dryly from beside me.

“This is different,” Beomgyu whines, lifting his head just enough to meet my gaze. “This is social survival. I can’t be the only loser who shows up stag. I have a reputation to maintain.”

“What reputation?” Jungwon and I say in perfect sync, then high-five.

“Adorable,” he groans, shaking his head. “I’m basically hopeless, guys.” I lean back, letting out a breath.

Sometimes I wonder how we even got here—how a castle filled with talking portraits and disappearing staircases became just part of our everyday lives.

Beomgyu and I first crossed paths in our first-year Charms class. He was shy and awkward, always flinching every time his wand sparked. I offered to help him with a simple levitating spell, and apparently, that was enough to earn me a lifetime of chaos.

Of course, the shyness didn’t last. One week he was all awkward smiles and nervous stutters. The next, he was critiquing my handwriting, stealing food off my plate, and insisting the Bulgarian National Quidditch team had the best uniforms in Quidditch history.

Do I regret helping him that day? Absolutely.

(Not really.)

We’d known Nari and Jungwon since first year too, but mostly just names we recognized and other kids we occasionally partnered with in class. And things didn’t really click until second year. Nari and I bonded in Herbology class after a near-meltdown over a screaming Mandrake.

Beomgyu and Jungwon grew close after accidentally setting off a dungbomb in the boy's bathroom, then immediately being sentenced to scrub the floor with enchanted toothbrushes by Professor McGonagall. By third year, we were a proper friend group. Chaotic, loud, kind of a mess—but it worked.

Now, in fifth year, we’ve all survived detention-worthy mishaps, disastrous crushes, and one unforgettable cursed toilet incident together.

Through it all, Beomgyu and I have always shared this quiet understanding between one another. A bond closer than anything either of us has with anyone else.

So when he lets out that dramatic groan and slumps forward like the world’s about to end, I already know what’s about to come—even before he turns to me with that look.

And there it is.

“That’s why I need your help,” he says, pointing a finger at me like he’s just had a brilliant idea.

“No,” I say automatically.

He blinks. “You don’t even know what I’m asking.”

“I don’t need to. The answer’s still no.”

He gasps, clutching his chest like I’ve wounded him. “You used to be nicer.”

“I used to have a will to live. Things change.”

He pouts dramatically, but I just raise a brow.

“Let me guess,” I deadpan. “You want me to help you find a date for the ball?”

He lights up. “Dang, you know me too well.”

Jungwon pipes up with a grin, “So, who’s the unlucky girl this time?”

We all know exactly who.

The girl who’s at the top of nearly every class and somehow has Beomgyu wrapped around her finger without even trying. A sharp mind, gentle smile, and a knack for answering the toughest questions like they’re nothing.

The girl who probably doesn’t even know Choi Beomgyu exists—beyond the occasional nod in the hall. Beomgyu shrugs, but his eyes wander—past our table, toward Ravenclaw.

Towards her.

“Chaewon,” he says.

Of course. My stomach does a slow, uncomfortable flip.

Then, suddenly, a laugh breaks out right beside Jungwon.

It’s Park Jong Seong, another Gryffindor who’s been eavesdropping our conversation.

“Kim Chaewon? Dude, that girl's got so many people interested, even some seventh years are hoping to ask her.”

Nari nods. “He’s right. It’s not just about looks or charm either. The girl's brilliant and kind too. No wonder everyone’s after her.”

“Yeah, I know. Doesn’t mean I’m not going to try.” Beomgyu shrugs.

“Come on, man. It’s easier than it looks—asking someone to the ball,” Jay says with a casual shrug.

Jungwon raises an eyebrow. “Says the guy who hasn’t even tried.”

Jay only smirks, flipping to a fresh page in his notebook. He grabs his quill and scribbles something quickly before tearing the page out and beginning to fold the piece of paper.

“What are you doing?” I ask, eyes narrowing.

Jay doesn’t answer.

He just turns slightly, scanning the tables before spotting someone a few seats down—Huh Yunjin, a Hufflepuff with red velvet hair and equally sharp grades. With zero hesitation, he raises the newly folded paper airplane and launches it in her direction.

It glides smoothly before landing right next to her parchment. She blinks, surprised, then looks up to meet Jay’s gaze. He gives a sheepish wave, before gesturing softly to the note.

Curious, she unfolds it.

We watch from afar as she reads the scrawled message: Will you go to the dance with me?

A second later, her lips curl into a shy smile as she nods to him—definitely a yes. She looks to her friends, who quickly lean in, looking at the note as they whisper excitedly.

Jay leans back, smug as hell, then picks up his quill like nothing happened.

“Damn,” Nari mutters.

“Show-off,” Beomgyu grumbles.

A second later, he turns to me with wide eyes.

“Okay, so that's why I need backup. Moral support. You know, someone to make sure I don’t spiral mid-sentence.”

“You want me to be your wingman?” I say flatly.

He grins. “Exactly.”

Nari groans. “C'mon, Beomgyu, that's ridiculous. It’s a dance, not a battlefield.”

“For you, maybe,” Beomgyu sighs, placing a hand over his heart. “But for the rest of us emotionally underdeveloped disasters, this is war.”

I roll my eyes. “What’s in it for me then, if I say yes?”

“Funny you ask,” he says, before digging into his robes and pulling out a tiny, beat-up notebook.

I raise an eyebrow. “Money? Food? A cheat sheet for Potions?”

“Better.” He opens it, holding it out.

The three of us lean in, squinting at a poorly written, barely legible list.

“What is this exactly?”

“It’s a draft list,” he says proudly. “Potential dates. For you. I figured if I’m not going alone, then neither are you, my good friend. So, this way, we can sort them out together. Like auditions."

"Like auditions?"

“Think of it as... the Tournament of Eligible Wizards.”

“That’s not a thing.” Nari says.

“It is now.”

“You’re actually insane,” I mutter.

He just smiles, turning those ridiculous puppy eyes on me. “So? Will you do it?”

I don’t hesitate.

“No.”

For the next two days, Beomgyu launches what he calls a 'gentle persuasion campaign'—emphasis on gentle, despite there being absolutely nothing lowkey about it.

It first started with the small things. Him carrying my books to class like some Victorian gentleman—stiff posture and embarrassingly exaggerated bows. Him saving me a seat in the common room, then dramatically fanning it with his hand like it’s some royal throne.

And even sliding me some chocolate frogs during breakfast, each one accompanied by a cryptic note scrawled in his messy handwriting:

“For the fairest of them all ♡ P.S. Say yes to my plan.”

I try to ignore it. I really do. But when I find a single, perfectly folded origami heart on my pillow one night, I start to reconsider.

Because this? This is not subtle.

Then he takes it up a notch. This boy starts buttering up my professors.

“Professor Flitwick, wouldn’t you agree that Y/N is exceptionally talented at Charms? She just told me how she managed to perfectly cast a Protego Shield without even moving her wand!”

Or passing Sprout on the way to Herbology: “Professor, did you know that Y/N here could probably single-handedly replant the entire greenhouse, she’s just that amazing.”

It didn’t take long before that backfired—next thing I know, I’m stuck after class hours actually replanting some of the trickiest plants in the greenhouse, all thanks to him.

Of course, he came over shortly after with wide, apologetic eyes and flushed cheeks, before gently taking my hand like he was silently begging for forgiveness.

Then, without a word, he knelt down and helped me replant the delicate Whomping Willow saplings I’d been struggling with, making sure every root was set just right.

How could I possibly stay mad?

By the end of the second day, he’s pulling out the big guns—puppy eyes, dramatic sighs, and a painfully off-key (and way too loud) rendition of “A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love” echoing through the corridor outside the Potions classroom.

Needless to say, I told anyone who witnessed it that I didn’t even know the guy.

All of this was enough to make me question my sanity—like a headache I didn’t ask for. And yet, there’s something weirdly endearing about all of it.

But I don’t say yes. Not yet.

Because helping him means watching it all unfold from the sidelines—something that stirs something inside me I’m not ready to face.

So instead, I focus on something that makes sense.

Namely, tutoring.

Namely, Huening Kai.

Late one afternoon, I settle into a quiet corner of the school library with Kai, tucked behind a pile of Transfiguration books and a globe that’s been spinning slightly off-axis all afternoon.

It’s calm here, broken only by the soft rustle of parchment and the occasional scratch of his quill. Kai’s hunched over his notes now, brows furrowed, bottom lip caught between his teeth. A stray strand of hair falls over his forehead, but he doesn’t notice.

“So if you switch the order of the incantation, you’ll reverse the spell completely,” I say, voice low, steady. “That’s why your teacup exploded—you basically undid the base form mid-transfiguration.”

Kai blinks, processing. “Right. That… makes sense.”

“Here.” I lean over, reaching for his notes, and he shifts slightly to give me space. Our arms brush.

“Try it this way next time,” I add, scribbling a revised sequence onto the page.

He’s quiet a moment, then says, “Thanks. You’re really good at explaining things.”

I shrug. “I’ve blown up enough teacups to learn from it.”

He lets out a quiet laugh—soft, almost shy—and I catch his smile as he glances over at me.

It’s… easy. Warm.

This all started when Professor McGonagall assigned me to help him with Transfiguration—vanishing spells, mostly. Astronomy got added soon after, once Professor Sinistra noticed he couldn’t keep his constellations straight.

At first, I thought it would be really awkward, but somewhere between late-night revisions and half-whispered complaints about homework, we just… got used to each other. Comfortable, even.

Now these sessions feel less like an obligation and more like something I don’t really mind making time for.

After a pause, I lean back with a sigh, twirling my quill once between my fingers.

“Okay,” I say, lowering my voice like I’m sharing a secret, “can I complain about something slightly unhinged?”

Kai blinks, then smiles softly. “Always.”

“Beomgyu is driving me insane.”

Kai chuckles. “What did he do now?”

“He’s been on this unholy mission to convince me to help him ask out this girl to the dance. Like, full-on campaign mode. Bribes. Compliments. Chocolate frogs. Yesterday he wrote me a poem. A poem, Kai.”

Kai lifts an amused eyebrow. “That’s… kind of sweet?”

I groan. “It was a haiku about how I’m his only hope. And he rhymed ‘ball’ with ‘downfall.’”

He presses a hand to his mouth, clearly trying not to laugh.

“Who’s the girl?”

“Kim Chaewon.” I say.

“Oh?” he says, genuinely surprised.

“I know, right?” I giggle at the way his eyebrows lift.

“The thing is… I’m not even mad about helping him,” I admit. “It’s the way he’s going about it—like it’s life or death.”

“That does sound like him,” Kai says, eyes twinkling.

“And the worst part?” I continue, voice low, "Is that I’m this close to giving in. Which I shouldn’t.”

The next morning, Beomgyu and I make our way to Care of Magical Creatures, our boots crunching softly on damp grass as the castle looms smaller behind us. The stone steps are slick with morning mist, and the air smells rich with wet earth and fresh hay.

There’s a low buzz running through the class—something about today’s creature being “a bit more exciting,” according to Hagrid. Which, knowing him, could mean anything from harmless flobberworms to something closer to fire-breathing death.

Beomgyu falls into step beside me, hands stuffed deep in his robe pockets, unusually quiet. He’s been like this all morning—restless, like he wants to say something but keeps holding back.

I can tell he’s trying not to push. Not today.

“I’m not saying anything,” he mutters after a few seconds, glancing at me. “Just… making a point that I’m not saying anything.”

“You literally just said something,” I deadpan.

He flashes me that familiar grin. “Yeah, but not the thing. So I get points, right?”

I shake my head, hiding a reluctant smile as we join the rest of the class gathered near the paddock. Professor Hagrid is already waiting, towering beside a large, roped-off enclosure with something… feathery and enormous shifting behind it.

“Right then! Everyone here? Good. Got a real treat for yeh today,” Hagrid beams. “Now, everyone gather ‘round, but not too close, yeah?”

Beomgyu nudges me as we edge into the group. “Place your bets now—giant spider or scaly death lizard?”

“Tempting, but I’m going with majestic death bird,” I murmur.

A sharp rustle of feathers confirms it. In the center of the clearing stands a hippogriff—massive and sleek, its brown wings folded neatly. It fixes us with an intense amber gaze, claws gleaming in the morning light.

“This here is Buckbeak,” Hagrid announces. "He’s got a bit of a temper, so you’ve got to show him respect.”

Beomgyu whistles low under his breath. “Majestic death bird wins.”

A ripple of gasps spreads through the students as Buckbeak fully reveals himself, wings twitching with a soft rustle. A few students shuffle back, eyes wide. Park Yejun somewhere near the front lets out a strangled noise and ducks behind their partner.

Hagrid stands tall beside the creature, his large hands resting on the rope fence. “Now, hippogriffs ain’t just any magical beast,” he begins, voice low but proud.

“They come from forests far from here—wild places where they can stretch their wings and hunt. Half eagle, half horse, see? Sharp eyes and beak of a bird, with the strong legs and body of a horse.”

We spread out in a loose half-semicircle around Buckbeak, giving him plenty of space. He eyes us keenly, feathers rippling, that sharp amber gaze sweeping the group.

"This one here’s a Highland breed, they come from up north near Inverness. Now, hippogriffs are proud animals. So you make sure you bow first, make eye contact, and if he bows back, you’re good to go.” Hagrid continues.

Beomgyu mutters under his breath, “So basically, a flying judgment machine.”

I nudge him. “Still sounds more reasonable than Professor Snape.”

Near the back, I spot a familiar figure—Kai, notebook tucked under his arm, watching the hippogriff with quiet curiosity. When he sees me, he lifts a hand in a small wave, the corner of his mouth twitching in a smile.

I smile automatically and wave back.

Beomgyu’s gaze slides between us. “Who’s that?”

“Kai,” I answer, too casually. "I tutor him Transfiguration and Astronomy."

Beomgyu raises a brow. “Tutoring,” he repeats, like he’s filing the phrase away for later interrogation. “Hm.”

Hagrid looks around with that big grin of his. “Alright then, who’s brave enough to go first?"

No one volunteers—just a lot of nervous glances and shuffling feet.

Then, almost like on cue, the whole class takes a step back—except me. I freeze, and wouldn’t you know it, I end up looking like I just boldly stepped forward on my own.

Hagrid’s eyes light up as he points right at me. “Well, well, well! Look who’s volunteered herself. Y/N, come on, don’t keep Buckbeak waitin’.”

Suddenly, every pair of eyes is on me—including Beomgyu’s—and I’m left trying to figure out if I should be proud or mortified. I nudge Beomgyu as I walk toward the creature. He just smirks, clearly entertained by how caught off guard I am.

“Assholes” I mutter under my breath, heart starting to climb into my throat.

Buckbeak's eyes track me as I move closer—sharp, intelligent, and definitely not forgiving. I try to keep my breathing steady, my steps slow.

“Alright now, Y/N,” Hagrid says gently, stepping up beside me. “Start with a bow, nice and respectful. Show ‘im yeh mean no harm.”

I nod, swallowing hard. Slowly, I bow at the waist in what I hope is the most confident and respectful bow this animal has seen in his life, fighting every instinct screaming at me to look away. My spine locks tight. My palms go clammy.

Buckbeak stares.

For a terrifying few seconds, he doesn’t move. Just breathes. Watches.

Then, finally, he bows back.

A wave of relief washes over me. I exhale slowly, trying to keep it steady. Behind me, someone mutters, “Bloody hell,” and the rest of the class finally breathes. A flicker of pride stirs in my chest.

Hagrid claps a hand on my back, nearly sending me forward. “Good job! Not many get a bow on their first try. Now, step forward slow—hand out, let him have a sniff.”

I take a shaky step forward, holding my hand out. Buckbeak leans in, nostrils flaring. His breath is hot and heavy against my fingers. He doesn’t pull away. His feathers rustle faintly with every breath—sleek, heavy, dangerous.

Oh my god, I’m doing it. I’m actually doing it—

The sound slices through the clearing like a blade. A dropped bucket. Metal hitting stone.

Buckbeak jerks his head back. His wings snap open with a thunderous whoosh that knocks the wind from my lungs.

“Shit—!” I flinch, stumbling back.

But not fast enough.

There’s a blur of feathers and claws. A warning screech. Then—

Impact.

Something slams into my side, knocking me clean off my feet. The world flips for a split second before I hit the grass, winded. There’s another sound—sharper, human. A hiss of pain. I whip around, panic flooding every nerve.

Gasps. A scream.

“Whoa there! Easy, Buckbeak! Down, boy—down!” Hagrid’s voice booms out, firm and commanding.

The hippogriff stomps, agitated—but he doesn’t strike again. Slowly, wings folding, he backs away, eyes still sharp but no longer hostile.

I scramble up, breath caught in my throat, and immediately spot Beomgyu crouched in front of me, arm curled protectively around his middle. His sleeve is torn and blood is blooming fast.

“Are you okay?” he asks first, breathless and hoarse.

“You’re the one bleeding,” I manage, eyes wide. “I...What—why would you—”

He winces, crouching lower to keep the weight off his arm. “Didn’t really think about it. I just saw claws coming at your face. Not a fan of that visual.”

I huff out a laugh that’s more nerves than amusement. “You’re actually crazy.”

There’s a tremble in my voice I didn’t mean to let slip. My hands hover uselessly, unsure if I should help him up or shake him for doing something that reckless.

He looks up at me with that stupid, lopsided grin—pale but smug. “Little bit,” he says.

Behind us, I catch a flicker of movement. Kai—frozen halfway from where he’d clearly started to move too. His hand is clenched around his wand, jaw tight, but his eyes are on Beomgyu.

On me.

On us.

Hagrid rushes over, dropping to his knees. “Sweet Merlin—hold still, lad—let me see.” His eyes go wide at the blood. “Lucky that wasn’t deeper. Could’ve been a lot worse.”

He shoots Beomgyu a look—half-scolding, half-shaken. “Brave, yeah—but reckless. What were yeh thinkin’?”

Beomgyu just gives a breathless laugh, still pale.

“Y/N,” Hagrid says, voice low and tight, “take him up to the infirmary. Quick as yeh can.”

I nod, slipping an arm under Beomgyu’s without a word. He doesn’t resist—just leans into me, jaw tight, not meeting my eyes.

And even though I’m half ready to strangle him for jumping in like that… I can’t stop replaying it.

How fast he moved. How fast I could’ve—

And behind us, Kai’s eyes follow every step.

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

Beomgyu hisses through his teeth. “Ow. That burns.”

“Good. Means it’s working,” Madam Pomfrey snaps.

I let out a soft breath, watching as the gash slowly begins to seal, the raw edges knitting themselves together like melting wax. The blood vanishes in slow spirals as the soaked fabric returns to its original color. After a few long minutes, she pulls back and gives me a curt nod.

“He’ll live. No flying or Quidditch for at least two days. And if I catch you messing with the spellwork, you’ll be back here with worse,” The old woman says briskly, already turning away before Beomgyu can muster a reply.

The door to her office swings shut behind her, leaving a sharp silence in her wake.

Beomgyu exhales, leaning back against the crisp infirmary sheets. His uniform is rumpled, sleeve still torn, though the blood is gone—replaced by smooth, freshly-healed skin wrapped in gauze.

“Well,” he says after a beat, glancing at me. “That was fun.”

I stare at him.

He stares back, as if surprised I haven’t said anything yet.

“You could’ve died.”

“That’s dramatic,” he says, then immediately winces when he shifts too quickly. “Okay, a little dramatic.”

I don’t laugh.

“You think?” I fold my arms.

He turns his head toward me. “Could’ve been worse.”

"You literally got clawed by a hippogriff, Beomgyu."

“Minor inconvenience,” he says, wincing as he tries to shift.

I glare at him, then sit on the edge of the bed, arms still crossed. “You’re an idiot.”

He smiles faintly. “Takes one to love one.”

That gives me a pause.

The silence stretches—just long enough to feel heavy. His smile falters slightly, like he didn’t mean to say it out loud.

I glance away, suddenly too aware of how close we are. “You didn’t have to do that,” I say quietly. “Get in the way.”

He shrugs with his good arm. “Didn’t really think about it.”

“That’s the problem,” I snap—but my voice is too soft, too shaky to land properly.

He watches me for a beat, expression unreadable. “You looked scared.”

There’s no teasing in it. No edge.

Just fact.

“I’ve never seen you look like that before,” he adds, quiet.

I don’t answer.

Because I don’t know how to say that I was. That I still am.

For a moment, all I can hear is the tick of the clock on the wall and the distant sound of Madam Pomfrey muttering behind her office door.

“I owe you,” I say finally, voice quiet.

His brow furrows. “No, you don’t.”

“I do,” I insist. “You got hurt because of me.”

He opens his mouth, but I cut him off before he can say something else stupidly noble.

“So I’ll help you.”

He blinks. “Help me…?”

“With your big Yule Ball plan,” I say, forcing a small smile. “Chaewon. Operation Win Her Heart or whatever we’re calling it now.”

Beomgyu stares like I’ve just offered him a Hippogriff of his very own.

I nod. “Consider it your thank-you gift. For being a reckless idiot.”

A beat.

“You sure?” he asks, something unreadable threading through his voice.

“Positive,” I lie.

He grins. Not one of his usual cocky, exaggerated ones—this one’s smaller, tired at the edges. Real.

“Well,” he says, “if you’re offering…”

“Don’t get used to it.”

“Too late,” he hums, eyes closing briefly as he leans back.

I study him in the quiet that follows. His hair’s a mess, there’s still a smear of dried blood on his neck he hasn’t noticed yet, and yet somehow, he still looks infuriatingly smug. Infuriatingly… Beomgyu.

But my heart’s still a little unsteady. From the moment he moved. The sound of impact. The idea of—

No.

I cross my arms. “So. What's the plan? You said you needed help landing a date with Hogwarts’ golden girl, right. What’s the first step? Flashcards? Dramatic declarations? Peacocks?”

His mouth quirks. “Tempting. But I was thinking interviews.”

I blink. “Interviews?”

He cracks one eye open. “Gotta find your perfect date too, remember? It’s a joint operation.”

I stare. “I never agreed to that part.”

“It’s a package deal,” he says, smug despite the gauze. “You help me, I help you. Everyone’s happy. I don’t bleed out. Win-win.”

I roll my eyes but don’t argue.

Because something tells me it’s already too late to back out.

And when I glance at him again—his lashes resting against his cheek, a faint crease between his brows even in rest—I realize something else, too.

That maybe the part I should really be worried about… isn’t helping him fall for someone else.

It’s what happens after I do.

“So you agreed to do it?” Nari stares at me like I’ve grown a second head. “Voluntarily?”

I sink into the couch beside her, rubbing at my temples. “He got hurt because of me. What was I supposed to do—nothing?”

“I mean…” She tilts her head, considering. “Yes?”

I give her a look.

She shrugs, not even a little sorry. “You do realize you just signed up to help Beomgyu stage a grand, romantic operation. That’s not a favor... that’s a side quest with emotional consequences.”

“Yeah, well.” I exhale. “Guilt makes people do stupid things.”

She hums, watching me carefully—but doesn’t press. We both stare into the fireplace for a while, letting the quiet settle. The flames flicker against the stone, and somewhere upstairs, someone slams a door.

Nari leans back with a sigh that sounds like it came from her soul. “I swear. If I have to carry my Potions group through one more sentence, I’m putting leeches in their shampoo.”

I snort. “Do it. I’ll provide the leeches.”

She slumps further into the couch, arms crossed like a personal protest. “It’s Potions, Y/N. All they had to do was test ingredients and write literally anything coherent. Instead, I’m rewriting everything from scratch.”

“Oh, I feel you,” I mutter, dragging a hand down my face. “My Muggle Studies group still hasn’t turned in their sections. I think one of them genuinely believes I’ll finish it out of the goodness of my heart.”

“Are they wrong?”

“…No. But I hate that they’re right.”

She shakes her head, muttering something dark under her breath, then sighs. “Oh my god. And guess what? I was supposed to have a meeting tonight—literally right now. Wanna guess who bailed again?”

I glance at her. “No.”

“Yes.”

“Oh my god.”

“Left me mid-draft with half the analysis missing just to ask that one Slytherin girl to the Ball.”

I blink. “Wait—now? During the meeting?”

“Dipshit said something about ‘perfect timing.’” She rolls her eyes. “If he’s gonna ditch his group to shoot his shot, he better fucking score.”

Across the room, Beomgyu is holding court.

Literally holding court—surrounded by at least seven people, most of them girls leaning in with sparkling eyes and slightly over-exaggerated laughs. He’s all dimples and nonchalance, grinning like a prince who doesn’t even realize he’s being worshipped.

Or worse—does realize and just knows how to make it look effortless.

“Apparently throwing yourself in front of a hippogriff gets you fans,” Nari says dryly, following my gaze. “Who knew.”

I roll my eyes, trying not to look for too long. He’s laughing with Jay and Jungwon now, casually spinning his wand between his fingers like it’s second nature—like he doesn’t have a neatly wrapped bandage under his uniform or a half-healed scar tucked beneath his sleeve.

He catches my eye mid-laugh.

The smile shifts for a second—softens. Just a flicker. But it’s there.

I look away first.

Then, suddenly, the portrait door swings open with a BANG!, and Jiho stumbles in like he’s just survived a dementor’s kiss. Pale, dazed, and clutching what remains of his dignity as he’s being half-dragged by two Gryffindor students, one arm slung over each of their shoulders like a fallen soldier.

The common room quiets, eyes turning toward the spectacle.

Nari blinks. “Is that—oh my god. Jiho?”

Nari's groupmate.

One of the guys propping him up grins, clearly trying not to laugh. “He did it. Asked out that Slytherin girl.”

Jiho opens his mouth, then closes it. Then opens it again. All that comes out is a hoarse, soul-deep groan.

“And?” Nari asks, already bracing for the answer.

“She laughed,” he says hoarsely, like the words have personally betrayed him. “Not just a little laugh, either. Full-on cackled, like I was some punchline of a bad joke.”

I choke on a laugh. Nari is already snorting.

He waves a hand dramatically. "Then she said something about Saturn being in retrograde, or my ‘stars not being in my favor.’ I don’t even know what that means—I just blacked out after that."

He pauses for a beat, visibly mourning the moment, then staggers over to an armchair.

“You know, I’m starting to think I’m cursed,” Jiho says, flopping into the seat like a war veteran. “This is the third girl this week who's mentioned the entire solar system before walking away.”

Nari bursts out laughing. I press a hand to my mouth to keep from smiling too loudly.

He slumps deeper into the cushions with a tragic sigh. “At this point, I should just drop out.”

“Not before the project’s done,” Nari says sweetly. “Then you can spiral.”

Their banter fades into the background as my eyes drift—almost involuntarily—back to Beomgyu.

Jay’s mid-laugh, flicking a chocolate frog into the air and catching it with the kind of smooth, practiced ease that says he’s done it a hundred times. He grins, pleased with himself.

Beomgyu cracks his knuckles, like some kind of chocolate frog ninja, and tosses one up—

Only for it to bounce off his nose with a pathetic boink before flopping onto the floor.

He blinks, then tries again—this time missing so badly the frog lands on his shoe and starts hopping away. Around them, a few friends bite their lips, trying hard not to burst out laughing. Jay just crosses his arms, watching with quiet amusement.

Jungwon shakes his head with a soft chuckle and pats Beomgyu on the shoulder. The boy only shoots him a mock glare but can’t hide the grin tugging at his lips.

I bite back a laugh, the corners of my mouth twitching.

Because as much as I want to pretend this whole plan is just a favor—a simple “thank you” for him saving me from the hippogriff—I know better.

I know I’m pretending I don’t feel anything when he’s near.

But for now, I shove that down. Focus on the plan. The interviews. The “win her heart” nonsense that somehow feels way more complicated than it should.

For now, I’m just going to help Beomgyu—because he needs me.

And maybe, just maybe, that’s enough.

“Merlin, I can’t believe we’re actually doing this.”

“You agreed to it.”

“Because you emotionally blackmailed me with your near-death theatrics.”

Beomgyu grins like it’s a compliment. “It's my specialty.”

We settle into a quiet corner of the courtyard, sunlight flickering over the blank parchment between us. Beomgyu’s already uncapped his ink, treating this like some kind of strategy meeting.

“So,” he says, “what’s your type?”

I blink. “My what?”

“Your type. Tall? Brooding? Has opinions on cauldron safety? I need something to work with.”

“You’re serious.”

“You think I got almost trampled by some bird-horse just to half-ass a matchmaking campaign? Of course I’m serious.”

I sigh. “…Can’t believe you’re calling it a campaign.”

“Why start with me?” I mutter more to myself than to him. “Shouldn’t we be talking about what you’ve got planned for yourself instead?”

Beomgyu shrugs. “Yours is more fun.”

“That’s not an answer.”

He looks at me like he’s weighing something, then shrugs.

“My part’s easier. Cause I already know what I want, and Chaewon already knows me… kind of. We just have to shift perspective." He taps the parchment with his quill. “But with you? People need an introduction.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Sounds dramatic.”

He smirks. “Because it is. Now come on. You’re stalling. Ideal date. Go.”

I roll my eyes. “Fine. Someone... real. Smart. Decent. Not allergic to listening.”

“No dramatic peacocking?”

“I’d prefer they not scream poetry across the Great Hall, yes.”

He scribbles something on the parchment. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll find someone better than me.”

“Maybe..”

He laughs—but it’s delayed. A half-second too late. The smile that follows doesn’t reach his eyes, not at first.

I exhale. “I want someone grounded too."

I pause, biting the inside of my cheek.

Then, adding. "Not performative, though. Someone who can make me laugh without trying too hard. I want them to be quiet-smart too, not the loud, know-it-all kind.”

Beomgyu doesn’t respond right away.

He just nods once, quill still poised over the parchment like he’s giving it his full, ridiculous attention. After a beat, he flips it around and slides it toward me, ink slightly smudged where his hand dragged across the corner.

“Here,” he says. “Updated list. Crossed out some, added a few.”

I scan the page.

There’s a neat little X next to someone I vaguely remember snoring through our Potions final. Another’s been crossed out with the note “snores in Divination.”

I’m halfway through an underlined name when something in the middle catches my eye—bold, circled, underlined twice.

“Wait—Park Sunghoon?” I blink, holding the parchment up like I misread it. “You actually put him on the list?”

Beomgyu barely looks up, still doodling in the corner of the page. “Yeah. Why not?”

I blink at him. “As in, top of his class, probably gets fan mail, currently competing in the Triwizard Tournament Park Sunghoon?”

He shrugs like we’re talking about some random guy in the courtyard. “I heard he also volunteers in the infirmary, is fluent in three languages, and I'm pretty sure the guy bakes when he’s stressed too.”

“I know that. Everyone in the castle does. That’s why this is insane!”

“Is it?” he says, finally glancing at me, one brow raised.

“Yes!” I gesture toward the parchment. “The guy's got a literal fanbase and hasn’t even come close to losing a round in the tournament. And he’s tall. Like, how-is-that-even-fair tall.”

Beomgyu fights a grin. “So what I’m hearing is… he’s perfect.”

“What you’re hearing is that he’s not even remotely in my league."

He shrugs again, calm as ever. “Reach for the stars, Y/N.”

“That’s not reaching for the stars,” I mutter. “That’s launching myself into space with a broken wand and a prayer.”

He laughs under his breath, then leans forward, elbow on the table, smile softening.

“Look, if I’m out here doing the most to win over Chaewon, you’re not getting away with playing it safe either.”

My eyes narrow. “So this is like a solidarity thing?”

“It’s like a ‘why the hell not’ thing,” he says, still smiling. “Besides…” He taps the parchment once. “You’re you. And if that’s not enough, then that’s his problem.”

He says it like it’s nothing, like it’s obvious—but it sticks more than I want it to. I glance back down at the list. Sunghoon’s name is circled in bold and clear writing. Like Beomgyu genuinely believes I could stand a chance.

I clear my throat. “Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you if I spontaneously combust trying to talk to him.”

He smirks. “We’ll make sure to have Madam Pomfrey on standby."

I roll my eyes, before nudging him and tapping on another name. “And Choi Soobin? That's also new.”

“Yep, from Ravenclaw,” he says. “He's a bit clumsy, but in a charming way. Grounded. Observant, like you said. Feels like someone who’d actually remember your birthday.”

“Are you really finding me a date or just tossing random names on a list?”

“A bit of both,” he admits. “But Soobin’s sweet. I saw him trip over his own shoelace once and he actually apologized to the floor. I figured you’d appreciate that kind of sincerity.”

I can’t help but grin, looking at the crossed out names.

“You don’t waste time, huh?”

“Nope,” he says with a grin. “I believe its better to narrow it all down before the interviews.”

“Quality over quantity,” I say, folding my arms. “Fine. But I’m not going to go easy on them.”

He laughs. “Wouldn’t want you to.”

I trace a name with my finger, suddenly quieter.

“Do you really think any of these guys would want to… actually go out with me? Or even say yes to all this chaos?”

Beomgyu looks up, expression unreadable for a beat. His eyes meet mine, steady and serious in a way that steals my breath for a second.

“If I were them?” he says. “I’d be crazy not to.”

My throat goes a little dry.

Before I can say anything, he snatches the parchment back.

“Also—hear me out—I think we should add that Durmstrang champion to the 'maybe' list.”

I stare at him. “You mean the one who made that second year burst into tears just by looking at them?”

“Yep. I thought he might be your type.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him blink since the opening ceremony.”

“Exactly. You love a challenge.”

I groan, half-laughing. “You’re dumb.”

Beomgyu grins wide.

I straighten, voice steady. “Alright fine, but this whole thing has to wait until after OWLs. No exceptions.”

He opens his mouth to protest.

“No,” I say firmly, cutting him off. “This is a non-negotiable.”

Beomgyu raises an amused eyebrow. “After OWLs it is then.”

Later that night, the castle feels quieter, the weight of the day settling into stillness.

“Okay,” Kai murmurs, squinting at the diagram in front of him. “If the angle of elevation from the northern horizon is thirty-seven degrees and Mars is in retrograde… what does that mean again?”

The Astronomy Tower is nearly empty, bathed in soft blue moonlight and flickering candlelight. A light breeze curls through the open arches, rustling the edges of my notes.

We’ve been studying here for over two hours now, notes and textbooks spread between us like a quiet fortress against the night. Kai lies halfway on his stomach, chin resting in his palm, eyebrows furrowed in quiet frustration.

I glance up from my notes, trying not to smile. “It means you didn’t do the reading I assigned last week.”

He shrugs, a small grin tugging at his lips. “I skimmed it.”

“You skimmed the title page.”

“Still counts,” he mumbles, eyes flickering up to meet mine for a moment.

I snort, leaning over to tap my quill against his notes. “Try again. Where’s the observer located?”

He groans softly, dragging his quill across the parchment like it’s a punishment. “Hopefully somewhere with a better tutor.”

I gasp in mock offense. “Rude.”

Kai lifts his head just enough to flash me a lopsided smile. “Kidding. You’re brilliant. The best in the tower.”

I arch an eyebrow. “There’s no one else in the tower.”

“Exactly,” he deadpans, then grins wider.

I snort again, tapping my quill against his notes. “Try again. Where’s the observer located?”

He groans, slouching just a little, but his smile stays soft. “Somewhere with snacks would be nice.”

“Kai.”

“Fine, fine,” he mumbles, squinting at the diagram. “Northern Hemisphere. Mars looks like it’s going backward… because of perspective. Retrograde.”

I blink. “That’s… actually right.”

He sits up a little straighter, eyes widening. “Seriously?”

“See? Not so bad having me as your tutor after all,” I say with a playful smile.

“Okay, okay, you’re actually pretty good at this.” He taps his quill on the parchment, smiling softly like he’s teasing but totally sincere.

Kai shifts beside me, fingers brushing lightly over the edge of my notes. After a moment, his voice drops a little. “Hey… how’s Beomgyu doing, by the way?”

I glance up. “He’s fine.”

“Yeah?” His voice is casual, but his brows pull together just a little. “That scratch looked really bad when I saw it happen. It was all pretty terrifying.”

“Yeah, I thought I was gonna get my head bitten off. But I'm really grateful he was there.”

Kai nods, gaze dropping for a beat. “Yeah… lucky you had him.”

He doesn’t say anything more, but there’s something thoughtful in his expression.

“But he’s alright now,” I add, a small smile tugging at my lips. “I mean, earlier in the common room, he was acting like he wrestled Buckbeak bare-handed and lived to tell the tale. So, I guess the guy’s alright.”

He laughs softly, before shifting a little closer to me, voice gentle. “How about you? How are you holding up after all that?”

“I’m alright. Honestly, it was a lot in the moment, but now it just feels like one of those crazy stories. " I smile a little, glancing at Kai. “Having Beomgyu around made it easier too, I guess.”

Kai’s smile softens, eyes warm. “Yeah, he really does look out for you, even when things get a bit crazy.”

I chuckle softly. “Brave or foolish—I’m still not sure.”

Kai shifts slightly again, voice quieter. “What about the Chaewon thing? Are you two working on that yet?”

I shake my head, a small smile playing on my lips. “Oh. It hasn’t started yet.”

“No?”

He raises an eyebrow, curious. “Something more important than his own plan with Chaewon?”

I nod slowly. “Yeah. Me, apparently.”

His expression falters, just slightly.

“You?”

I laugh softly, shaking my head. “He’s now on some kind of matchmaking mission. Says people need a proper introduction.”

Kai leans back a little, eyebrows raised. “Matchmaking?”

“Beomgyu made a list. Like with actual plans for interviews and everything.” I give him a playful look. “But I made it clear—it has to be after exam season. That’s the only way I’d fully agree to it.”

He chuckles, then sighs like he’s bracing himself for something. “Sounds like he’s got it all figured out.”

“Right?” I smile, though there's a subtle hesitation there. “He calls it a campaign. Like, it's a whole operation.”

Kai is quiet for a moment, then says gently, “And you’re okay with it?”

I shrug. “He’s pretty determined… and maybe a little emotionally persuasive.”

His smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Still… whoever he picks is going to be lucky.”

I blink at him. “You really think so?”

He meets my eyes, not flinching. “Yeah. I mean it.”

Around us, everything quiets down—the soft breeze, the flicker of candlelight, and something unspoken hanging between us. The silence stretches on as the night deepens around the Astronomy Tower.

Kai glances down at the worn clock carved into the stone floor beneath us, his eyes narrowing.

“Wait…” he mutters, sitting up straighter.

...

“Oh SHIT!—” Kai blurts, a grin spreading. “What time is it?!”

I follow his gaze—and immediately feel my stomach drop. “Oh hell.”

We both stare at the clock for a beat in stunned silence before launching into motion, gathering books and parchment like two first years during a surprise dorm inspection.

“Yep.” He snatches a stack of notes, eyes wide. “We’re past curfew. Like… way past.”

“Why didn’t we check the time?” I whisper, half-shouting as I scramble for the papers.

“You were so focused on tutoring, I don’t think either of us noticed the time,” he says, a little panicked but smiling. “And I was still messing up the planets.”

A small warmth flickers inside me at how earnest he sounds—unexpectedly sweet. Then the reality hits.

“We’re going to get caught,” I groan. “Filch is probably out there breathing down a suit of armor right now.”

Kai winces. “With Mrs. Norris. Lurking. Like she always does. Like she knows.”

“Fuck. I forgot about her.”

We’re already at the top of the steps when he suddenly pauses. “Wait—your common room’s farther, right?”

I nod. “Gryffindor Tower.”

He shifts his books to one arm and tilts his head toward the hallway. “Alright. Let’s go.”

I blink. “Wait, what? Your common room's like ten feet that way.”

“Exactly. Which means I’ve got time to make sure you don’t get eaten by a cat-demon.”

“You don’t have to walk me—”

“I know,” he smiles softly, already heading in my direction.

I hesitate, then fall into step beside him.

We make our way down the spiral steps, moving as fast as we dare without tripping over our own feet or dropping anything. The castle feels twice as silent now, like even the portraits are asleep—or pretending not to notice us.

Kai holds the stairwell door for me, peeking his head out before motioning me through with an exaggerated “All clear” whisper.

The tower door groans loudly as we slip out, the sound echoing down the corridor. We both freeze.

“Shhh—” I whisper.

“That wasn’t me,” Kai whisper-hisses. “That was the building.”

The castle is dark and quiet in that eerie after-hours way. Our footsteps feel way too loud, so we start tiptoeing in exaggerated slow motion.

“This feels like a heist,” he mutters. “A very nerdy one. Like we’re smuggling notes instead of treasure.”

“Shut up, you’re gonna jinx us—”

Patter-patter.

We both stop dead.

Then—a soft meow.

Kai’s eyes snap wide. “Oh my God.”

Before I can react, he reaches out and grabs my hand, tugging me gently behind a suit of armor nearby. The sudden contact makes my heart skip, but I don’t pull away.

I whisper, “It’s her.”

He crouches low, voice barely audible. “Mrs. Norris.”

We press ourselves flat against the cold metal, barely daring to breathe. My fingers instinctively reach out, curling around his, and he gives a gentle squeeze—quiet, but steady, like a lifeline.

I catch the faint pressure, and for a moment, heat blooms in my chest. I internally shake my head at the thought, trying to focus on the situation at hand.

This isn’t the fucking time to get distracted, Y/N. He probably doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. I think to myself.

After what feels like forever, Kai peeks out cautiously and gives me a small thumbs-up.

“Looks like we’re safe for now,” he whispers, a relieved grin tugging at his lips.

I can’t help but snort quietly. “I almost lost it holding in that sneeze.”

He squeezes my hand again, eyes warm. My heart stutters a little.

Together, we slip back into the corridor, tension easing just a bit, like the night’s weight has lightened between us. We stop in front of the Fat Lady’s portrait.

I turn to thank him, but he’s already looking at me, like he wants to make sure I get inside before he leaves.

“Thanks,” I say, quieter now.

He tilts his head, that soft smile back on his face. “Anytime.”

“You head in first,” he adds, “I’ll keep an eye out for anyone lurking around.”

I give him a small, grateful smile and step forward, pushing the portrait just enough to slip inside.

With a final glance over my shoulder, I whisper, “Goodnight, Kai.”

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he replies, his voice just as quiet.

Then the hallway falls silent—except for the steady flutter of my still-racing heart.

The morning after.

The Great Hall’s buzzing like usual—cutlery clinking, low chatter everywhere, and somewhere an owl screeches as it flies overhead. Sunlight spills through the tall windows, making warm patches across the tables.

I slide into my usual spot at the Gryffindor table, arms heavy, eyes burning from not enough sleep. Nari’s already halfway through her porridge, flipping through her notes with this half-focused frown. Jungwon’s across from her, poking at a piece of toast.

He looks up the second I sit down across him, eyebrows raised.

“What hole did you crawl out of?” he says, grinning. “You look like you got hit by a bus.”

I groan, dropping my head onto my folded arms. “Didn’t get much sleep last night.”

Jungwon keeps watching, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“We didn’t see you in the common room last night. You vanish into the walls or something?”

“Stayed out later than I meant to,” I mumble.

Nari glances up briefly, but doesn’t comment—just keeps flipping pages, her focus split.

Then Beomgyu drops into the seat beside Jungwon, hair still damp, somehow looking way too awake for this hour. He takes one look at me and snickers.

“Yikes,” he says cheerfully. “You look like a Bludger hit you on the way to breakfast.”

I blink at him, too tired for comebacks.

Jungwon leans in, his grin widening. “Or maybe,” he says dramatically, “someone just had a very productive study session.”

I don’t dignify that with a response. I just pick up a baby carrot and chuck it at his head.

Thwack! Direct hit.

“Oi!” he yelps, ducking a second too late. “Uncalled for!”

“Totally called for,” I say, already reaching for another.

I toss it at Jungwon again, who throws his hands up in mock surrender, laughing. Nari finally looks up from her notes, the corners of her mouth twitching.

“You two never change,” she says, shaking her head. “How do you even function like this at breakfast?”

“Hey, some of us thrive on chaos!"

Beomgyu chuckles and leans back slightly, then shifts a little closer to Jungwon, his eyes narrowing with playful curiosity.

“Seriously though,” he says, “where were you last night? I didn’t see you anywhere in the common room.”

Jungwon makes a show of nodding. “Exactly. It’s suspicious.”

I sigh.

"Did you sleep in the library again?” Nari asks.

I wave a hand vaguely. “Something like that.”

“Sketchy,” Beomgyu says, narrowing his eyes in mock suspicion. “You’re being very cryptic this morning.”

“She’s definitely hiding something,” Jungwon says, eyes twinkling as he leans in dramatically. “Secret Hogsmeade rendezvous? Late-night broomstick joyride? Did you get eloped?”

I grab another baby carrot and fling it at him without hesitation.

Thwack. Right between the eyes.

“OW—again?!” he cries. “Why is food your weapon of choice?”

“Because it’s handy,” I mutter, reaching for another just in case.

Then it happens. Silence.

They’re all watching me now—waiting. The teasing’s stopped, but the curiosity’s still there, sharp and lingering.

Jungwon’s eyebrows are halfway to his hairline like he’s piecing things together. Nari’s notes are officially forgotten. Even Beomgyu, frozen mid-reach for a muffin, doesn’t look away.

I rub my face. “Okay. Fine.”

The table leans in just a bit.

“I was tutoring Kai,” I say, trying to keep it casual. “In the Astronomy Tower.”

Jungwon immediately lets out a long, exaggerated, “OoOooh,” and beams. “Scandalous.”

He points at me triumphantly. “Told you! Study session turned into a little more—Astronomy Tower edition.”

I give him a flat look. “It was just literally tutoring.”

“Sure,” Jungwon says with a sly smile, raising an eyebrow. “Sounds like the stars weren’t the only things you were aligning last night.”

“You’re disgusting,” I mutter.

Nari snorts into her porridge. “That’d explain why you disappeared before curfew.”

I nudge her lightly, hiding a smile. “We lost track of time. We were just going over charts and—next thing I knew, it was nearly midnight.”

My gaze flicks across the hall for a second.

The Hufflepuff table is its usual happy chaos, busy with laughter and loud chatter. And there, in the middle of it, Kai's laughing at something one of his friends said, hand half-covering his mouth, bright-eyed and cheerful. He doesn’t notice me looking.

But someone else does.

Beomgyu doesn’t turn—doesn’t need to. I can feel it. He knows exactly where I’m looking. His smile doesn’t falter, but something in his posture tightens—just slightly.

“That must’ve been a trek,” Nari says, glancing at me over her spoon. “Getting all the way back to Gryffindor Tower from there?”

I shrug. “Kai walked me back.”

A short pause.

Then Jungwon pipes up, brow quirking in faux puzzlement. "Isn’t the Astronomy Tower like... way closer to the Hufflepuff dorms, though?”

I hesitate for half a second, then answer, “Yeah. But he insisted.”

Nari blinks. “He walked you all the way back?”

“Mhm.”

There’s a longer silence this time. Jungwon’s practically glowing with mischief, while Nari watches me more carefully now. But it’s Beomgyu I feel the most—quiet, still, unreadable.

Then, finally, he clears his throat.

“Well,” he says, voice light, even. “That was… gentlemanly of him.”

His smile is there, but dimmer than usual. Still warm, but not quite lit from within.

“Yeah, I guess,” I say, brushing a crumb off the table. “We didn’t want another Filch encounter.”

“Wise,” Jungwon says with a laugh. “Old man’s got bat ears. I sneezed once—two corridors away—and he still found me.”

That gets a laugh out of Nari, and the conversation shifts—something about the ridiculous new Divination seating chart and how Jungwon always ends up next to the kid who smells like dungbombs.

Beomgyu laughs too, tossing in a few jokes of his own. But I notice the way his fingers keep fidgeting with the frayed cuff of his sleeve, how he avoids looking directly at me. How he lets the noise carry him instead of steering it like he usually does.

Maybe the others don’t catch it.

But I do.

Eventually, Nari shuts her notebook with a sigh. “Alright, I need to grab my Herbology notes before class,” she says, pushing back from the table.

Jungwon stretches, groaning. “If I get stuck with dungbomb guy again, I’m dropping Divination. Mark my words.”

We all rise, some grabbing last-minute bites or straightening their robes, the morning pulling us apart into different halls.

“See you guys later,” Nari says over her shoulder.

Jungwon shoots me a look as he heads off. “Try not to hurl more carrots today, yeah?”

I roll my eyes, but a smile tugs at the corner of my mouth.

Just like that, we’re moving—blending into the morning stream of students filing out. That’s when I feel someone fall into step beside me.

“Hey,” Beomgyu says, appearing at my side like he’s been there the whole time. “Didn’t think I’d have to jog to catch you.”

I glance over. Books in one hand, a half-eaten muffin in the other—he looks normal. Almost. Still joking, still easygoing, but there’s something quieter underneath.

“Sorry,” I say. “Thought you were still busy inhaling your second muffin.”

He holds up the muffin in mock offense. “I was. But then I looked up and you were halfway to the dungeons.”

“Figured I’d beat the hallway traffic for once. Character development and all.”

We walk. The corridor is thick with chatter, footsteps echoing against the stone, laughter bouncing down the halls. For a second, I think we’ll slip back into our usual rhythm.

Then he says, voice softer, “I, uh… waited up for you last night.”

I blink, glancing at him. “You did?”

“Yeah,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “In the common room. Thought we could go over stuff for the interviews, maybe over some awful hot chocolate or something.”

Something in my chest tugs.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I say, gently.

“I know,” he says, finally meeting my eyes. “Still figured I might.”

A beat.

“Guess I got a bit worried when you didn’t come back,” he adds, even quieter.

That lands heavier than I expect. Not dramatic—just real. Simple and honest.

“I lost track of time,” I admit. “I'm sorry.”

“No need to be,” he says quickly. “Just glad you’re not, I don’t know, trapped in a secret passage somewhere.”

I huff a quiet laugh. “No trolls or secret dungeons, promise.”

His smile softens, and this one feels like him again.

“So,” he says, glancing sideways. “The plan—still on? Since it’s still after exams, I wasn’t sure if you’d want to back out or—”

I shake my head. “I’m still in.”

His grin returns, this time with a flicker of mischief. “Good. Because I’ve got some questions ready that might scare a few people off.”

I grin. “Perfect. That’s exactly what we need.”

“Exactly what we need,” he echoes.

We keep walking—side by side. And for the first time all morning, the air between us feels steady again.

The final stretch before O.W.L.s doesn’t feel like a countdown anymore—it’s more like a slow descent into collective madness.

The whole school is tense and restless, fueled by too much caffeine and too little sleep, like everyone’s bracing for impact. The Yule Ball, once the center of every whispered conversation, has quietly faded into the background, replaced by something far more terrifying:

Academic reality.

Suddenly, distractions aren’t even an option anymore. Every corner of the castle is now packed with students, heads down and books open.

The library’s standing room only, its usual hush replaced by frantic page flipping and the occasional quiet breakdown. The Great Hall has turned into a shared study battlefield—ink-stained hands, scattered parchment, and half-empty cups of tea abandoned for diagrams and spell lists.

Hell, even the common rooms, once filled with laughter and half-hearted homework attempts, have gone quiet. Now they flicker under dim candle lights, filled with the sound of scribbling quills and muttered incantations whispered like prayers.

Everyone’s after the same thing now: a few more hours of sleep, a little more time to cram, one more chance to make it all stick.

My schedule’s a mess too. I’m bouncing between my own revisions, tutoring Kai, and squeezing in the occasional study session with Nari.

She and I work well together—quiet, focused, no theatrics. We don’t need much talk to get things done. Normally, she studies alone or with her other Slytherin friends, but we make time when we can. It helps having someone just as determined to survive this.

Studying with Jungwon and Beomgyu, however? A total lost cause.

I’ve tried—honestly, I have—but within minutes, Jungwon’s doodling dragons in the margins of my notes while Beomgyu constructs a miniature fortress out of textbooks and christens it “Castle Beom.”

Seriously?

Still, there’ve been moments. Quiet ones. Just me and Beomgyu, side by side as I walk him through Arithmancy theory. He listens, surprisingly focused—brow furrowed, mouth set, like he’s trying to soak it all in at once. Sometimes he grumbles, sometimes he jokes, but he always listens.

“You don’t have to help me, you know,” he said once, fidgeting with the edge of his parchment. “You’ve got enough on your plate.”

I just nudged the notes back to him and said, “You’d do the same.”

And he would. I know he would.

Lately, though, I haven’t seen much of him—or Jungwon, for that matter. My world’s narrowed into a tighter loop: books, parchment, Nari… and Kai.

Kai’s become a constant. We don’t schedule sessions anymore—we just find each other. In quiet corners between classes, at small tables before curfew, on stairwells between floors. He’s improved—not just at Astronomy, but at keeping the panic at bay.

Sometimes we study in silence, sometimes we laugh through the trickier bits, and sometimes—especially when he’s half-asleep over his Transfiguration notes—he’ll ask me something quietly, like it’s just occurred to him that I might disappear when exams are over.

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

Finally, the morning of our first exam arrives.

We fall into step on the way to the Great Hall—books clutched tight, nerves humming just beneath the surface.

“You remember the difference between lunar and solar conjunctions, right?” I ask, eyes flicking over my notes one last time.

Kai bumps my shoulder lightly. “Only because you explained it with biscuits.”

“Hey, that was a brilliant analogy.”

“It really was,” he agrees, then looks at me softer now. “Thanks for sticking with me through all this.”

I glance up and catch something gentle in his gaze—like he’s still figuring out how we ended up here, together.

I smile and nudge his elbow. “You’ve come a long way.”

We slow as we reach the doors, sharing a quiet breath—an unspoken promise not to throw up.

“Good luck,” I say, quieter than I intend.

Kai meets my eyes. “You too, tutor girl.”

“To surviving exams!” Beomgyu declares, raising his mug with a triumphant grin—loud enough to turn a few curious heads nearby.

The cozy warmth of the Three Broomsticks wraps around us like a soft blanket. Firelight flickers across worn wooden beams and stained glass, while the murmur of other students’ laughter and chatter fills the inn. The end-of-exam tension finally beginning to melt away.

We all clink our mugs against his.

“To surviving,” Nari echoes, grinning like she’s just escaped a dungeon. “I’m so glad it’s over, I might actually remember what fresh air feels like.”

Beomgyu takes a long sip of his butterbeer, eyes glinting with relief.

“I swear my quill was doing the writing by itself by the end,” he says, slumping back in his chair. “I was just there for moral support.”

Jungwon leans back with a stretch. “I’m just glad I can stop pretending I understood anything in Arithmancy.”

I smile, glancing around at the group. “Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever been this ready for anything to be over. No more late nights pretending to be productive.”

Nari nudges me with a knowing look. “And yet here you are, about to jump into a whole new kind of chaos. Willingly, too.”

Jungwon raises an eyebrow, smirking.

“Right, Beomgyu—wasn’t there some little project you and Y/N were supposed to kick off now that exams are done?”

I groan. “Oh, fuck off.”

Beomgyu’s grin spreads like wildfire.

“Wow, thanks for the reminder, Jungwon.” He turns to me, eyes gleaming. “I was starting to think you’d try to run.”

“I was really hoping you’d forget,” I mumble, taking a sip.

Nari shakes her head, smiling. “Honestly, I still can’t believe he talked you into this.”

“Barely,” I say. “At this point, I’d rather have Buckbeak add me to his collection than go through with it"

Beomgyu just grins, raising his mug again.

“Too bad. Operation: Find Y/N a Date officially begins.”

「 ✦ Operation: Find Y/N a Date ✦ 」

A Choi Beomgyu Production - complete with a comedic montage series of date interviews. (Y/N: You're an idiot.)

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

Interview #1 | Library

“Seriously? The library?” I whisper, shooting Beomgyu a pointed look. “We couldn’t meet literally anywhere else?”

He just leans back in his chair, completely relaxed, like this isn’t about to turn into a magical disaster. “He wanted to meet here. I didn’t have a choice.”

Before I can respond, the date arrives—a Ravenclaw boy with glasses nestled on the bridge of his nose, clutching a stack of scrolls and parchment tied neatly with a blue ribbon.

And barely two minutes in, and the guy—Namjoon? Namshin? Something with an ‘N’—is already unraveling.

“If I’m honest,” he says, adjusting his glasses, “I think emotional compatibility only comes from shared trauma or, like, a serious understanding of magical theory. You know about love languages, right? Mine’s spellcraft.”

I blink. “Your… what?”

He grins and pulls out a wrinkled parchment covered in stars and scribbles. “I brought a compatibility chart. Don’t worry, it’s color-coded.”

I glance sideways at Beomgyu, who’s visibly struggling to keep a straight face.

I rest my hand on the table and subtly flick him the middle finger without breaking eye contact.

I mouth, I hate you.

His only response is two emphatic thumbs up.

Then Madam Pince rounds the corner and gives us a sharp, hissing “Shhh!” like the sound itself might turn us to stone.

Of course. The library.

Interview one: FAILED!

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

Interview #2 | Courtyard

“Ready for this?” the next guy says, brushing his bangs back as we sit in the courtyard.

I blink. “Wait, ready for what?”

Before I can say more, he just starts singing.

Loudly and painfully off-key.

Right there, in the middle of the courtyard.

“When I saw you across the Great Haaaall—”

He holds that last note a little shaky, but you can tell he’s really putting his heart into it.

I slump back in my seat, trying not to cringe. Beomgyu is already half off his bench, barely holding in his laughter.

When the guy finishes, he winks like he’s just won the whole thing.

I clap, slow and sarcastic. “Bold move.”

Beomgyu’s voice cracks. “That was… something.”

No questions. He just nods and walks off, clearly proud of himself.

I smack Beomgyu on the arm as he starts to laugh.

Interview two: FAILED??

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

Interview #3 | Gryffindor Common Room

He sits down across from me at the wooden small table and just blinks. Then he stares at the floor like he’s trying to disappear.

“Hey,” I try, keeping my voice soft.

“…Hi.”

“How are you?” I smile gently.

“I’m good…”

A long pause.

“Um… do you want to maybe tell me about yourself?”

“…”

Another awkward silence.

Then he makes this tiny squeaking noise, his cheeks flush bright red, and before we can even blink, he bolts—straight out of the common room.

Beomgyu and I just watch him disappear.

“…I kind of feel bad,” I say quietly.

Beomgyu snorts. “Why? That was probably the most cardio he’s done all year.”

Interview three: ???

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

Interview #4 | Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop

“Right, so,” the Slytherin guy says, spinning a sugar spoon between his fingers like he’s rehearsing a speech, “I don’t really believe in labels… but I do believe in academic synergy.”

I blink. “Academic synergy?”

He leans forward, eyes sparkling. “It means we’re intellectually compatible. Spiritually aligned. And—if you let me copy your Arithmancy notes—I’d say we’re destined.”

Beomgyu lets out a sharp breath without looking up. “Rejected.”

The guy smirks, unfazed. “Oh, I don’t take no for an answer.”

Beomgyu finally meets his gaze. “Oh? What.. are you gonna fight us or something?”

The guy stands suddenly, clutching his chest like he’s been struck by a powerful curse. “No,” he says, eyes fluttering closed. “I’m just going to faint.”

Then, all of a sudden, the guy sinks to the floor of the tea shop with a long, exaggerated sigh, one arm flung over his forehead. His robes pool around him, a little too perfectly, like he’s done this before.

What. The. Actual. Fuck

The room gasps.

A few customers nearby shoot up from their seats, startled, as Madam Puddifoot herself hurries over seconds later with the dessert menu, frantically fanning him like it might help.

I stand up from my seat, blinking, before grabbing the a napkin on the table and join in because I mean... what else do you do?

I glance at Beomgyu.

Beomgyu shrugs, grabbing another menu from our table and starts fanning too, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world.

Then, he leans in by my side, whispering, “Is he breathing too evenly for someone who’s unconscious?”

I whisper back, “I can see his eye twitching.”

From the floor, the guy sighs dramatically. “The agony of unrequited academic love…”

Madam Puddifoot narrows her eyes. “Get up.”

Slowly, he sits up, brushes invisible dust from his robes, and groans theatrically. Then he points at me, winks, and says, “The offer still stands.”

And just like that, he stands up and strolls out of the tea shop—completely fine.

Beomgyu and I watch him leave in disbelief, before slowly following him out of the tea shop.

Outside, the cold air hits us, and the gravel crunches beneath our boots as we make our way up the path.

I stay quiet, still trying to wrap my head around what just happened.

Finally, Beomgyu breaks the silence. “He… fainted.”

“He actually just did that,” I say.

“This is whole thing is worse than I imagined,” I add, pressing my palms into my cheeks.

“I swear that singing guy nearly summoned thunderclouds in the school,” Beomgyu says, muffled by his scarf.

“And the first guy literally brought a scroll titled Why I’m the Best Candidate for Y/N’s Hand in the Yule Ball.”

Beomgyu stops mid-step, turns slowly. “He did not.”

Wordlessly, I reach into my coat pocket, pulling out a piece of parchment and letting the long sheet unravel in the air.

He stares. Then screams.

We both start laughing—loud and breathless—until I have to lean into him to keep from slipping on the uneven path. My sides ache. His laugh goes high-pitched and wheezy.

By the time the castle comes into view, we’re still giggling like we’ve lost it.

Beomgyu wipes his eyes. “We’re not even halfway through.”

“I’m scared.”

“Same.”

Interview four: FAILED!

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

Interview #5 | Courtyard Pt. 2

“Wait,” I murmur, squinting toward the courtyard. “Is that—”

“Park Sunghoon,” Beomgyu finishes, eyes wide.

I blink, still trying to wrap my head around it. “You actually owled the Ravenclaw Head Boy?”

“I thought he said yes in a joke-y way! I didn’t think he’d actually—oh damn.” Beomgyu says, disbelief in his voice.

Then it sinks in, and my voice drops. “Oh, fuck.”

I glance at Beomgyu. “Please don’t tell me you got that Durmstrang guy involved in this, too.”

“I didn't. I swear.”

We hadn’t expected him to come—figured he’d be too busy prepping for the next task. But there he is, walking like he owns the place, hands tucked into his coat pockets, scarf wrapped snug around his neck. The breeze catches his hair just right, like it’s all part of the moment.

When he reaches us, he offers a small, calm smile. “Hope I’m not late.”

“No, you’re—” I blink, caught off guard. “Very… punctual.”

I try to play it cool. “Thanks for coming. We didn’t think you’d actually—uh, yeah. Hi.”

“Hi,” he replies softly.

“Yeah, I thought it sounded kind of interesting,” he says, his eyes lingering on mine just a moment longer than usual. “And… well, I was curious...”

“About you,” he adds easily. Then, like he realizes how forward that sounded, he gives a slight, shy smile. “And the whole selection process, of course.”

Beomgyu stifles a cough behind me.

“Right. Well,” I say, nodding toward a nearby bench, “let’s get started?”

He nods and follows me. We sit side by side, a polite distance apart, but there’s a quiet awareness between us. Not obvious, just… there.

“So,” he says, glancing over at me, “do I get actual questions, or is this more of a vibe check?”

“A little of both,” I reply, meeting his gaze. “Depends on how honest you want to be.”

Sunghoon smiles softly. “I’m usually honest. Maybe too honest.”

“You hesitated a little just now.”

“I’m self-aware,” he says with a small grin.

I can’t help but laugh, and his expression softens.

Beside us, Beomgyu taps his quill. “You two want me to leave for a bit?”

I roll my eyes. “Be serious.”

Sunghoon leans back, arms crossed. “Let him stay. I kind of like the challenge.”

I raise a brow. “Challenge?”

“You’re hard to read,” he says quietly, not teasing. “It makes this more interesting.”

Beomgyu scoffs quietly at that.

I don’t answer right away. The moment lingers—his gaze calm, steady but not pushy.

Finally, I clear my throat and glance down at my parchment. “Okay, first question: What’s your favorite winter activity?”

“Staying warm,” he says right away. “With good snacks, and hopefully with someone who won’t mind if I fall asleep halfway through a book.”

“That’s pretty specific.”

“What can I say? I know what I like.”

I smile, and he smiles back—soft, but there’s something there beneath it.

Beomgyu exhales quietly. “Okay, yeah, I’m definitely the third wheel here.”

Neither of us corrects him.

And the interview hasn’t even started.

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

Interview #6 | Room of Requirement

If Sunghoon is polished and poised, Soobin is something else entirely—something softer.

Quietly endearing in a way that catches me off guard.

The Room of Requirement shifts again to match the moment: warm and softly lit, with low ceilings and enchanted windows casting a dusky sort of glow. Thick rugs muffle our footsteps, though here and there, worn cobblestones peek through.

Soobin nearly trips on one the second he steps inside. Then, he catches himself quickly but still looks horrified.

“I’m so sorry—I swear I saw the stone, but then my foot just… yeah. Anyway—hi.”

I glance, startled, then smile. “Hello.”

He’s gentle, in both voice and presence. He talks quietly about his love for Care of Magical Creatures, how fascinated he is by nifflers and thestrals.

He admits he plays piano, but only when no one else is listening—too nervous to perform for an audience. His words tumble out unevenly, but he laughs at himself when they do, and somehow that makes the whole thing even more endearing.

Halfway through, his elbow knocks into the ink bottle. It tips, dark liquid spreading toward the parchment like a slow disaster.

His eyes go wide, and his face flushes with panic.

I wave my wand quickly and clean it up. “Hey, don’t worry about it. That kind of thing happens to me at least twice a week.”

He lets out a breath, his shoulders relaxing. Then he smiles again, eased.

Beomgyu has been mostly quiet, chin propped in his hand as he watches the whole thing.

When Soobin stands, thanks us, and slips out the door (almost forgetting his scarf on the chair), Beomgyu leans toward me and mutters under his breath,

“...Alright, he’s kind of cute.”

I raise an eyebrow.

Beomgyu just shrugs like it’s nothing. “Whatever.”

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

Interview #7 | Quidditch Pitch

“Now this guy,” Beomgyu mutters as Yeonjun jogs toward us, still in his Slytherin practice gear, “absolutely screams ‘walking red flag.’”

Yeonjun doesn’t hear him—but judging by the smirk on his face, he wouldn’t mind if he did. He’s still a little breathless from flying, broom slung over his shoulder, wind-tossed hair looking unfairly good for someone who just spent an hour chasing a Quaffle.

He climbs up the bleachers two steps at a time and drops onto the seat across from us with the kind of easy confidence that’s probably gotten him into (and out of) trouble more times than anyone could count.

He flashes me a wink. “So, am I the first Slytherin you’ve interviewed, or just the best-looking?”

I raise a brow, amused. “Both. For now.”

Yeonjun smirks. “Good to know I’ve set the bar.”

Beomgyu’s face does not look amused at this.

I hum. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves."

Yeonjun grins wider, and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“So, is this actually an interview, or just a good excuse to talk to me?”

“That depends,” I say, matching his energy. “You got real answers, or just a bag of recycled pickup lines?”

His smile sharpens, impressed. “Ohoho—I like her.”

Beomgyu, flat as stone, clears his throat. “Yeah, speaking of lines—you told Eun Ae from History of Magic the same one last week.”

Yeonjun freezes for half a beat, caught. Then he recovers with a shrug and a flash of teeth.

“I have a repertoire,” he says smoothly.

“Noted,” I reply, smirking.

The moment lingers—playful and just a little electric. Beomgyu mutters something under his breath and jabs his quill a little too hard, nearly tearing the parchment.

Just as Beomgyu finishes scribbling Yeonjun’s name with the words "menace to society", a gust of wind lifts through the stands.

I glance over as a group of students makes their way up the opposite side of the bleachers—Chaewon among them, laughing at something one of her friends says. She’s in Ravenclaw robes, but a couple of the girls with her wear Slytherin green, waving at the players still hovering on their brooms.

Chaewon waves back at them, then finds a seat a few rows above us. She tosses her scarf over her shoulder, still smiling as she settles in.

And that’s when I notice it: Beomgyu’s gone quiet. His quill stills. He doesn’t even finish the sentence he was half-muttering.

Just the smallest shift—shoulders drawn in, lips pressed together. I catch his eyes flick up toward her, linger for a second too long, then drop back to the page like nothing happened.

But Beomgyu isn’t listening.

And neither am I.

We’re making our way back from the Quidditch pitch, the courtyard washed in late-afternoon gold. I drop onto a cold stone bench, still running Yeonjun’s interview back in my head.

Beomgyu sinks down beside me, the usual smirk on his face—but there’s something different about it tonight. It felt sharper, guarded.

I let out a sigh. “Well. That was a bit of a circus.”

He huffs a dry laugh. “That’s one way to put it.”

I glance over. “Soo, anyone catch your eye?”

He shrugs, casual. But the slight curl at the corner of his mouth gives him away. “Yeonjun? All show. No substance. He’s charming, sure—but I doubt he’s in it for anything real.”

I smirk, remembering Yeonjun’s grin. “Yeah, I got that vibe.”

“What about Soobin?” I ask.

Beomgyu’s expression softens. “He’s nice. Genuine. But… I don’t think it’d work. I feel like you’d be the one putting in all the effort.”

I nod slowly, letting that sink in.

“And Sunghoon?”

He lets out a quiet sigh. “Too put-together. Like he’s performing instead of just… being himself. Something about it feels off.”

“Put-together?” I tease. "He’s literally swimming in the Black Lake tomorrow. I think he’s allowed to be a little focused."

Beomgyu smirks. “There’s focused, and then there’s ‘trying way too hard.’”

I laugh. “You’re just jealous he didn’t laugh at your terrible joke.”

“Terrible? It was a masterpiece!” Beomgyu protests. “Anyway, if I had a task for a life-threatening tournament tomorrow, I’d be too busy trying not to die to care about Yule Ball interviews.”

I grin. “Sounds like someone’s scared I might actually find someone better than you.”

Beomgyu shoots me a mock glare. “Keep talking, and you’re going alone.”

I glance at him. “You’re not really sold on anyone, are you?”

There’s a pause.

Then he flashes that familiar grin—mischievous, but quieter than usual. “Maybe I just don’t think they’re good enough.”

I raise an eyebrow. “For me?”

He meets my gaze, steady. “Yeah. You deserve nothing less.”

And just like that, whatever comeback I had disappears. Because this time, Beomgyu isn’t joking.

The Great Hall hums with the kind of noisy excitement only winter can bring. Light from the enchanted ceiling glimmers like frost, casting golden reflections on the tables below. Students chatter over half-eaten meals, bursts of laughter erupting as someone unwraps yet another extravagant owl-delivered package.

At the Gryffindor table, I’m halfway through my third spoonful of blueberry tart, seated beside Nari, Jungwon, and Beomgyu, whose expression is unusually wary.

“I’m serious,” Nari is saying, tone overly casual as she peels a clementine with exaggerated care. “A squirrel delivering the note. It's subtle. Charming. Plus: small enough to run if it goes badly.”

Jungwon coughs on his pumpkin juice. “Subtle? You’re about to send a rodent to flirt on your behalf.”

“It’s Taehyun,” Nari argues. “He’s shy, and I need an opening move that screams ‘cute and subtle’ and not ‘quiet desperation.’”

Beomgyu snorts. “You say that like you’ve ever had a soft and subtle approach in your life.”

I grin. “If you do the squirrel, I’m begging you to put it in a little bowtie.”

“I was going to,” Nari says, smugly shrugging her shoulders.

“Still can’t believe people are already getting their dressrobes owled in,” Jungwon says, glancing down the table where a group of third-years are gathered around a box with squeals of excitement. “Some families really go all out.”

“Chaewon’s probably getting owled something straight from Paris,” Beomgyu says, shaking his head.

He leans back with a groan. “Meanwhile, I’m bracing for something completely tragic.”

Nari doesn’t even look up. “You? Tragic? Highly doubt it.”

He points at her, serious. “You don’t know her taste, Nari. One time she made me wear a gold-trimmed cloak to a wedding. I looked like a cursed tapestry.”

That gets a laugh out of Jungwon and a few others nearby.

Nari smirks. “Your family’s loaded. Worst case, it’s tragically expensive.”

“Exactly my fear,” Beomgyu mutters. “How am I supposed to get Chaewon to say yes if I show up looking like I got dressed in the dark at Gringotts?”

Someone down the table chokes on their juice. Nari snorts. “Honestly? That might be your best shot. She’ll say yes out of pity.”

Beomgyu whines, looping his arms around mine like a clingy five-year-old. “Y/N, Nari’s bullying me again!”

I smile softly and reach up to ruffle his hair. “Aww, poor Beomgyu. Need me to rescue you from the evil witch and her wicked spells again?”

Nari laughs, shaking her head. “Of course he always runs to you when he needs a safe spot. You’re basically his personal bodyguard.”

Beomgyu shoots her a playful glare but tightens his hold on my arm. “Yeah, yeah, evil witch. Just you wait—I'll get you back.”

I chuckle, glancing between them. “You two are hopeless.”

Just then, a soft flutter of wings cuts through the chatter. Two owls swoop low—one drops a sleek, green package into the hands of a smirking Slytherin nearby. The wrapping is neat, with silver ribbon catching the light.

The other owl, a grand and glowing creature, lands right by the Gryffindor table, carrying a box so ridiculously fancy it draws some snickers. The velvet wrapping is deep red with gold embroidery, but the faded, frayed floral pattern makes it look like it was wrapped by a very old-fashioned relative.

Beomgyu’s eyes widen. He leans forward, hands pressed together like he’s pleading, whispering, “Please, please don’t be for me…”

The owl drops the heavy box beside him with a soft thud. A few Gryffindors chuckle, others shoot him amused looks.

Beomgyu forces a smile, clearly bracing for whatever’s inside.

“Is that from your mom?” I ask, eyeing the gold wax seal and the expensive-looking wrapping.

Beomgyu stares at it like it’s cursed. “Why does it look like a wedding cake?”

A note is tucked beneath the bow:

Darling, I added extra flair to make you stand out! Can’t wait for pictures. Love, Mom.

“Oh no…” he mutters.

Still, he cracks the seal. Slowly, Beomgyu lifts the lid—and goes utterly still.

It’s hard to even describe it. The dress robe is a maroon velvet suit with a ruffled collar. And lace. So much lace. The sleeves are dramatically puffed, the lining is satin, and there’s a glittery gold crest stitched right over the heart.

For a beat, no one says anything.

Then—

“IS THAT A BIB?” Jungwon wheezes, leaning forward to get a better look.

Nari chokes on her juice.

“Oh my Godric,” Nari says, nearly breathless. “I take everything back.”

I try to hold it in, but once Beomgyu holds the robes up by the shoulders, the entire corner of the Gryffindor table loses it. Jungwon slides down the bench, now belly laughing at the sight. Nari pounds a fist on the table, trying to catch a breath from her endless laughter. I press my face into my sleeve, tears threatening to escape my eyes.

Then, a younger student two seats down blurts, “My grandfather has that exact set!”

“Beomgyu,” I gasp between laughs, “it’s got frills on the frills.”

Beomgyu just grabs the note in one hand and the ruffled cravat in the other. “HOW,” he says, voice hoarse with disbelief, “am I supposed to get Chaewon to say yes to me while looking like a haunted opera singer?”

Laughter bursts from around the Gryffindor table.

“She might appreciate the drama,” I offer gently, trying not to laugh too hard.

“Y/N,” Beomgyu says solemnly, “if I show up looking like this, I’m basically obligated to challenge someone to a duel over her honor.”

“Please do,” Jungwon says. “And make sure it’s near the snack table too.”

While everyone else is still reeling from Beomgyu’s tragedy, I sense someone behind me—a gentle shuffle just past my shoulder. Then a light tap.

I turn. Kai is standing there, looking quietly pleased and a little nervous.

“Hey,” he says. “Mind if I borrow you for a second?”

My expression softens. “Sure.”

We leave the table as Jungwon launches into a theatrical impersonation of Beomgyu as a pompous aristocrat. I follow Kai down one of the quieter corridors just off the Great Hall, where the noise fades into low, musical echoes.

Kai reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small, neatly wrapped parcel. “I… meant to give this to you earlier. For helping me with Astronomy.”

I open it carefully. Inside is a tiny handmade charm—a miniature planet that spins slowly on its axis, attached to a slender cord bracelet.

“It’s nothing fancy,” he says quickly. “Just… something I made.”

My heart lifts a little. “Oh Kai, it’s perfect.”

“I know tutoring’s over, and I guess I was just…” he hesitates. “Hoping it wouldn’t mean that we’d stop hanging out.”

I meet his eyes, steady and sincere. “We won’t. I like spending time with you. And not just because you can now identify all the moons of Jupiter.”

He laughs quietly. “Even if I mix up Io and Europa sometimes?”

“I'll forgive it,” I say. “As long as you keep making things like this.”

We smile at each other—warm and simple, the way things always feel with Kai.

When I return to the table, the mood has shifted entirely. Someone's asked Jungwon who he’s taking to the Yule Ball, and he’s suddenly very invested in peeling the label off his pumpkin juice. Beomgyu is slumped across the bench, pretending to write his will on a napkin.

Nari, meanwhile, is eyeing me with a raised brow and a suspicious grin. I just slide back into my seat, the charm bracelet wrapped around my wrist. Beomgyu glances up as I settle in, his eyes flicking briefly to my hand before returning to his dramatic scribbling. He crumples the napkin with a little more force than necessary.

Around me, the table buzzes with jokes and last-minute plans, the air now tingling with nerves and excitement. But in my chest, there’s something quieter—something hopeful, new.

Like something is just about to begin.

a/n: holy fucking shitballz bro this took me so long to write and theres still sm more to this story PLEASEEE I'll post part 2 soon but i rlly hope u guys enjoyed this (pls comment that u did) JSBDHAJSBHSH

p.s. I am completely aware that some of the personalities probs dont match exactly the characters irl, so pls take in mind this is fanfiction

[caprisunzz]

June Fic Recs

blogs...

@colouredbyd /// DALIA OH MY GOD. my love, my light. the way you write will always make me strive to be a better writer and it is my civic duty to recommend your fics to the entire world. if you want to read some marauders content that makes you want to stare at your wall and weep, look no futher, you found THE BLOG. every one of her fics makes me emotional. the way she writes angst is actually physically painful for me in the best of ways.

@luveline /// jade my love, you will always always always (always) be one of my fav fic writers of all time. the way you write character interactions and just in general always takes my breath away in the best of ways. If you are at all interested in stranger things, the maurauders, top gun, or criminal minds i am BEGGING YOU to go read something, anything of jade's <<<333

@yasministration /// absolutly IN LOVE with their harry potter fics. ESPECIALLY the harry potter x reader AU with alive!jily. the way they write harry is so book!harry. it is just how i pictured him if he was raised by the marauders :'( if you are looking for something wholesome this is definitely the place to go.

@itsreallynotriri /// one of my fav concepts is the idea of harry being raised in the wizarding world (see above). this author really brings that to life with their series of regulus and potter!reader raising harry. i will always have a soft spot for regulus black, and this author only reaffirmed that for me <3

@honeypiehotchner /// I have been OBSESSED!!!!!!! (!!!!) with their aaron hotchner series the gambit. I will always love a story about reader's past catching up to them. I will also always love an emotionally constipated aaron hotchner. cross those two things with an enemies to lovers slow burn and you get this series !!!! score !!!!

@ddejavvu /// this is one of THE blogs for me. every time i develop a new hyperfixation i can almost guarantee that mei as written a fic for them, and i can also guarentee that it is going to HIT. maurauders? yes. marvel? yes. star wars? yes. stranger things? yes. the list goes on and on. they have something for everybody. if you're going to do one thing today, make it reading a mei fic.

@megalony /// i am absolutely obsessed with megan's evan buckley. always have been, always will be. add in eddie diaz? YES PLEASE. whenever i see that she posted it absolutely makes my day and nothing made me happier than when i saw she started writing for ELLIOT STABLER!!! HELLO??? the best omg.

fics...

james potter

divination pt 2 /// @ticifics

settle down /// @reysdriver

sanctuary at the potter's /// @mischievousmoony

love letters /// @amiableness

remus lupin

the way i see you /// @g1rld1ary

loving is easy /// @dismalflo

while we're both here /// @crescenthistory

poly!marauders

good luck babe /// singmyaubade

remus betrays sirius for a cuddle and a nap /// @luvindrr

slow burn! slytherin reader! series /// @whimsymoonpages

aaron hotchner

yes ma'am /// @divadepreshawn

hotchelle /// @goorgeousz

nameless, faceless /// @ssa-aaron-hotchnerr

first name basis /// @littleslaywrites

it's a date date /// @spencerreidsreads

spencer reid

mirrorball /// @pathologicalreid

the fear of falling apart /// @ ^^^

buried alive /// @ ^^^

rafe cameron

don't worry baby, i'll handle him /// @salem-s

temporary truce /// @ ^^^

almost lost you /// @girly-girlk

evan buckley

sleepy sidekicks /// @eddiazx

cats out of the bag /// @starrvsn

steve harrington

blind date /// @c4tluver02

ain't it fun? /// @maroon-cardigan

come home /// @stevie-petey

hard to love /// @jxstsxgx

haven /// @solarswonderland

steve rogers

kissing booth /// @crazyunsexycool

unnamed angst /// @thezombieprostitute

bucky barnes

no such thing /// @sanguineterrain

let me love you /// @deliciousangelfestival

💌love letter from elle... this is something i've been wanting to do since the conception of this account. while i reblog every fic i read, i wanted to spread the love and share some of my favs. pls let me know if any fics are broken and pls give these writers all the appreciation and flowers that the deserve. if you were tagged here and reading this: MWAH MWAH I LOVE YOU PLEASE NEVER STOP WRITING 🤍💐✨

[jaylaxies]

ENHYPEN REACTION: to you being in the rival house at Hogwarts

PAIRING: enhypen hyung line x fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, slytherin!hee with gryffindor!reader, slytherin!jay with hufflepuff!reader, ravenclaw!jake with gryffindor!reader, gryffindor!sunghoon with slytherin!reader

WC: 4.7k words

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: hihi, my loves <3 this was requested by my anonnie here and i loved writing about enha and hogwarts omg! all likes, comments, reblogs are highly appreciated! it keeps me motivated! iloveyou all and happy reading <33

Slytherin!Heeseung x Gryffindor!reader

Trope: Headboy x Headgirl

Heeseung was beyond elated when he got his letter back at the manor, stating how he had become the head boy of Hogwarts. His family of pure bloods were even prouder, however, his cocky smirk dropped the second he met with the entirety of the prefectorial board at the Hogwarts express, prefect compartment to be precise.

Seeing you standing there with the batch stating ‘head girl’ was not something he wanted to see, not when you were someone who came from a non wizarding background, someone who was in Gryffindor.

How could they make you the head girl? How could they think he’d be willing to spend his time working with you of all people. His hatred for your likes was visible from day one, his taunts and threats didn’t bother you, and that’s exactly what bothered him. The urge to make your life living hell was his motto more or less, even more so this year.

“It’s absurd, man. Let her be now, it’s our last year here for Godric’s sake,” Jay huffed out, irritated that Heeseung couldn’t shut up about the new Gryffindor quidditch captain giving you too much attention despite your blood status.

“It doesn’t fucking matter, why do people like her anyway? What happened to keeping the muggles away from the likes of us?” He gritted his teeth, accidentally stabbing the piece of chicken too hard with his fork at dinner. The sight of you snuggling close to the said captain infuriated him more than he let on.

“Well, she’s not a muggle if she can do magic, and extraordinarily well at that,” Jay offered, having done with Heeseung being a dimwit and not realizing the truth behind his anger.

“Wow, thanks for the support, mate,” Heeseung rolled his eyes, looking back at you again.

He’d make sure to wipe that smile off of your face while taking rounds later—at least that’s what he promised himself. Taking rounds was probably the time he looked forward to the most, given that it was the perfect time to criticize and show hatred towards you.

However, the second you meet up at the staircase, telling him to divide areas since you do not wish to work with him anymore, he loses it. He completely loses it, scoffing and grabbing your wrist, pulling you into the room of requirement right behind you.

“What the fuck—” you tried to scream, but he was quick to cover your mouth with his hand.

“What? Can’t even look my way now that you have a quidditch captain chasing you around?” He scoffs, eyes full of hatred, the kind you had never seen before and it made you scoff.

“Well, newsflash, Lee. I never wanted to look your way from the very start. In case you haven’t noticed, it’s you who’s clearly obsessed with me,” you seethed out, not caring about the proximity despite your breathing getting heavier.

“Ah? Me obsessed with the likes of you? Don’t flatter yourself, darling,” he said, tone almost challenging, his hold on your wrist tight, just like the hand that was grabbing your waist now, making you gulp but not back down.

“So, it shouldn’t matter to you if I snog my quidditch captain, or more,” you whispered with a smug smile, feeling his hand squeezing your waist tighter.

“You cannot do that,” he warned.

“Oh but I did—”

You couldn’t finish your statement and nor could Heeseung control his actions anymore, pressing you up against the wall and shoving his tongue down your throat, kissing you in the messiest way he could muster to mush out all the sane thoughts coming his way.

This was the sanest he had felt in ages.

“You’re fucking mine,” he groaned against your lips.

“No, fuck I’m not,” you smirked, testing him further, loving how he had finally given in to the truth—that he wanted you.

The room of requirement was sly, preparing a bed as he pushed you on it, getting on top of you while getting rid of his robes, “oh, babe, I’ll show you who you belong to.”

“Took you way too long, Lee,” you chuckled, gasping the second he pushed your panties aside, feeling your wetness on his fingers with a smirk.

“Been waiting, eh?” He asked, cocky as he pushed two fingers in with ease, your back arching as you moaned.

“Talk about yourself,” you smirked, pulling him into another rough kiss, messy of all sorts as he sucked on your tongue, pumping his own cock by lubricating it with your wetness.

He wasted no time, in aligning himself to your entrance, pushing his cock in one go to bottom out, groaning at the tightness that squeezed him, thrusting almost instantly when he saw nothing but pleasure on your face with a promise to claim you his.

“Fuck, I knew you’d make a perfect whore, always so desperate for my attention,” he groaned, snapping his hips to yours, the noise resonating the room.

“You can’t even thrust properly, ah—” he sped up to shut your mouth, your toes curling as you held on to him for support, chanting his name like a mantra the whole time as he proved just how much and how well he can fuck you.

All night.

Slytherin!Jay x Hufflepuff!reader

Trope: Animagi Jay

It took him a lot of patience.

In fact, it took everyone in his friend group a lot of patience to keep their mouths shut for a whole month, a single mandrake leaf resting in their mouths. However, they wanted to do something iconic, which would be—turning into an animagus to cause trouble whilst being unregistered at that. The whole process was tedious.

Jay was losing his last bit of sanity, watching you smiling softly and being kind to others, which was a usual thing per se.

The only problem was how he couldn’t verbally bother you.

It was known to be his favourite pastime, inserting himself in your life and bothering you for existing.

Why? Because that’s what he should do, being a slytherin. He had a personality he needed to live up to, and he knew hell would break if anyone as much as gets a hint about Jay’s infatuation with you.

The solution? To make sure he says the meanest things so he wouldn’t have to see your smile. You don’t get why he’s mean to you. His hatred goes as far as it concerns you, and you’ve never seen him calling anyone else names but you.

So, seeing you being happy and not once thinking about him since he put the leaf in his mouth had his blood boiling, especially when you agreed to attend Slughorn’s party with a random ravenclaw boy. The same party he was gonna ask you to attend with him—or bully you into attending with him, but the smile on your face gets him mad.

He scoffed, ignoring the whole situation and focusing on the transformation process, completely missing the look of sadness on your face when he left without even acknowledging your presence, his mind deep in different thoughts.

Of course you’d be happy without him.

However, the success in becoming an animagi had him smiling. He was a big black cat—a royal panther, while his other friends turned into a bird and a dog.

He went out to explore the place in his animal form, getting out of Hogwarts castle to visit the black lake, not once thinking that he would find you here at night.

Your back looked peaceful as you stared at the lake, and he was silent as he made his way towards you, almost scaring you the second you saw a black panther settling down next to you, a gasp leaving your mouth as your eyes shined under the moonlight.

“Hi, I’ve never seen you around before,” you spoke up, fascinated, extending your hand to stroke his fur.

Jay didn’t expect this, and he knew he didn’t have to pretend in this form, making him purr with pleasure as you gently caressed him. He was a cat after all. The warmth of your kindness was driving him crazy, he so desperately wanted you to like him back, but he knew you wouldn’t.

It became a routine for him to sneak out to meet you at night in his animal form, and he adored how you shared all your secrets with an animal, talking to him, letting him rest his head on your lap and as far as kissing his head in adoration.

He was in love with you.

He loved how you welcomed him with a pretty smile, the same smile which he wipes off your face in his human form.

Everything was going smoothly, to the point Jay had even started staring at you between classes, not being as rude as he used to be before and you never hesitated on smiling back at him, ever so kind. He wanted to talk to you, face to face, and confess.

However, that plan went down the drain. The same Ravenclaw boy was seen standing close to you, a conjured flower in his hand which he presented to you with a wide smile while Jay watched it unfold with the nastiest scowl on his face.

So being petty, Jay practically shoved you out of the way, not looking back even after hearing a little “ouch” coming from your direction as you stumbled, ignoring when you called out his name, rather proceeding to the next class.

He didn’t see you there, and he tried not to act affected by your absence, assuming that you’d have gone with the other guy, relaxing when he saw you in potions class again, his eyes never leaving your face which looked distressed. Especially after you took a sniff of the amortentia, the love potion.

His heart lurched, wondering if you smelled the other guy. And in his case, he knew he was doomed the second he took a sniff and instantly smelled of your body lotion and your favourite delicacy. His eyes met yours that very second and he had to gulp, looking elsewhere to pretend that he was fine.

That night, with a heavy heart, he sat down next to you in his animagi form yet again, this time he found you at the astronomy tower, a bandage around your arm.

“Hey, love,” you welcomed the black panther, “it’s such a pretty night,” you sighed dreamily, petting the panther next to you.

“You mind if I talk?” You asked, chuckling when the panther nodded as if he understood what you meant, “I don’t understand boys. I really like this guy but he’s been mean to me to see. It’s pathetic, isn’t it? That I smelled him in the love potion and he’s the reason why I stumbled and hurt my arm—I just can’t help it, I wish Jay would like me back but he doesn’t even look my way without wanting to look away or just comment about how I’m just a weak Hufflepuff girl,” you mumbled, not focusing on how the panther had stood up all of a sudden.

Jay’s heart thumped, he wasn’t sure if he heard it right, but it was too much, he couldn’t wait anymore.

He transformed back into his human form right there, your eyes widening as you opened your mouth to scream, which he put a hand over to muffle your voices.

“That—that was you!” You whisper-yelled, shoving him away.

“Did you mean it?” He asked, grabbing your wrist which made you lean against the wall, “that you like me?”

You could barely breathe, biting your lip as you nodded, “I know you hate me—”

“Oh, you know nothing, baby,” he chuckled, grabbing your nape and pulling you into a kiss, making your eyes widen before he pulled you even closer, making you kiss him back eventually, getting fervent with your actions.

“Fuck, I like you so much. It was you who I smelled, in the love potion, I mean. I’m sorry for being an asshole, I never knew how to handle feeling this way for you,” he apologized, cutting the kiss and leaning his forehead against yours.

Instead of replying, you pulled him into another kiss, letting his hands wander all over your body, his self control leaving his body. He knew he had you now, and he knew he wouldn’t be letting go, especially after the little whimpers leaving your mouth the second he started kissing your neck after leaving your lips all swollen.

You were too sensitive, too forgiving.

Rubbing your thighs together didn’t help either, but the second he squeezed your bare thigh, you knew you were gone. It was the ideal place for you both to be doing this, but stopping wasn’t an option, not when he was so passionately marking you just after you told him you rejected the other boy.

Spreading your legs was easy, asking you to be a good girl and keep your voices at bay was even easier for Jay, and you obliged, your eyes rolling back as he lapped at your cunt, licking big stripes while fucking your cunt with his fingers, trying to be gentle but you were too pent up to ask him to go slower, only urging him to move faster.

That’s how you spent your night, he took you to his chamber, kicking everyone out shamelessly to fuck you into the mattress, his cock not having enough of you and your pussy clenching him, trying to hold him in for as long as you could before you both reached your high.

He knew he fucked up before but now that he actually had you in his arms, he knew he was going to cherish you forever.

Ravenclaw!Jake x Gryffindor!reader

Trope: Yule ball, fake dating

Jake was loved by everyone and he basked in the warmth of it. Being good in academics came naturally to him, he was a Ravenclaw after all. Adding to it, he was selected to represent Hogwarts at the triwizard championship, his fame and name more glorious than ever these days.

The problem? He had everyone’s attention but the girl who he claimed to have a tiny crush on.

He wanted to ask her to be his date for the Yule ball, however, the chances were slim as another Gryffindor boy named Heeseung, asked her right before Jake could even call out her name.

Jake wasn’t the only one suffering. You stood there beside him, watching the scene unfold with the same wrath in your eyes.

You wanted to go to the ball with Heeseung.

“Tough luck?” Jake asked, not sparing you a glance as you both watched him from a distance as they hugged gleefully.

“Talk about yourself, champ,” you crossed your arms, “she didn’t even think twice before saying yes,” you commented, jaw clenching, “she’s gonna get her heart broken, he’s gonna turn her into a situationship too.”

“What? We have to warn her,” Jake spoke, eyes widening.

“Oh, I tried, but she actually really likes Heeseung,” you huffed, “and here I thought I meant something to him.”

“Go with me,” Jake breathed out, finally looking your way, taking your beauty in.

“What?” You exclaimed, turning your head to look his way too.

He was beautiful, there’s no denying him. His hair was a bit on the messier side, lips pink and swollen from biting (he was nervous), and eyes full of hope.

“To make Heeseung jealous, of course!” He defended his statement and your eyes widened in understanding.

“Oh,” you let out, “so we’re doing all this fake dating thing, now?” You teased him, loving how his cheeks got redder but he only stepped closer, shrugging.

“We’ll have fun, you’ll get to be with the triwizard champion, it’s a win-win for you,” he offered, smirking and you smiled humorously.

“Sure,” you agreed, not paying attention to Heeseung who witnessed this interaction of yours.

It was easy to keep up with him, the rumours of you two being together spread like wildfire, especially with the Yule ball coming up, which only favoured you, granted that Heeseung had tried to approach you several times but Jake hadn’t left your side at all.

In fact, you were scared how easy it was to be in his company, “she wanted me to teach her how to ride the broom,” Jake had told you once, and he was one heck of a flyer, despite him not being in the team.

Naturally, you offered him to teach you that instead, watching how his eyes lit up and he nodded. Something about Jake was endearing to you—like how he helped you ride the broom with him sitting behind you. It felt real, too romantic the way he held on to you, smiling as he pointed out the various spots you could see from the height.

And you knew he felt it too, his heart pumping out of his chest as you rested your back against him.

It felt too real to him when you got him a tie that matched the colour of your dress, asking him to match with you, and he realized he had stopped thinking about the other girl completely as he helped you around with studies and you helped him feel alive.

Somewhere along the lines, you had forgotten that it was all fake, simply because it felt real to the both of you. The hand holding, the snuggling closer, the soft smiles on your faces, none of it was fake.

It didn’t hit you till you were on your way to meet Jake, only to find the other girl already talking to him in a corner, your jaw clenched at the sight of them talking about something you couldn’t make out from this distance. Your mind wasn’t sane as you stepped back and rushed to your own room, wondering if they had gotten together.

You knew it could very well be a misunderstanding, yet you didn’t do anything about it, especially when Jake didn’t come to meet you at all today.

You were slightly heartbroken as you woke up the next day, everyone seemed happy to the point they couldn’t stop talking about the Yule ball tonight, doing their hair and skincare already and you tried to join them, knowing that you can’t run away from it no matter what the situation would be.

Now, clad in your gown, you most certainly did feel better, looking in the mirror to find the prettiest version of yourself, you felt beautiful as you walked down the stairs, smiling gently when you found Jake waiting for you by the stairs.

His breathing hitched the second he saw you, eyes twinkling as he took you in, heart beating faster when you stood in front of him. It was magical how he took your hand, kissing your knuckles gently, “you look beautiful,” he whispered, your face heating up at the compliment.

So, you postponed asking him about the other girl, focusing solely on him as you were called for the first dance with Jake—the Hogwarts champion. He treated you well, he looked like the prettiest man alive, pulling you closer and dancing with you like he meant it when the rock band came out, but after a while, you stopped, pulling him out when he got you drinks to talk by some secluded area—a classroom nearby.

“I saw you guys talking,” you told him, admitting how you would be okay if he leaves you now and he how doesn’t need to put up this act anymore, making his heart lurch, “fuck—no! I asked her to stay away because,” he gulped as he met your eyes, “because I like you, not her.”

Everything felt rushed after, his lips on yours, your fingers in his hair, bodies pressed against one another as he messed up your lipstick, “I like you so much,” he kept mumbling between the kisses, lips trailing down to mark your neck.

He knew what he had to do—kiss every inch of you till you understood the depth of his words. He wants you so genuinely it makes your heart beat faster, his eyes full of earnestness as he comes up to kiss you again, but more than that, he wants to taste you, give you the pleasure you deserve.

Getting down on his knees was easy for him, getting under your gown even easier. You breathed in deeply when you felt him burying his nose in your pussy, pushing your panties aside to lick a stripe of your cunt, leaving a small kiss on your clit right after.

His movements were slow and calm, his hold on your thighs tight as he devoured you, seeming as if he’d be hungry for ages. You could have sworn you never felt this way before, gripping the table you were leaning against tightly, you tried your best not to fall down with how your knees were getting weaker by the second as his tongue was pushing around much faster than before.

“Jake—” you gasped, seeing stars as you finally came undone, your whole body felt as if it was on fire but Jake was just getting started with you.

Getting out, he looked more disheveled than ever, taking your hand and making you feel his hardened cock, “see what you do to me, baby,” he whispered, pulling you into another kiss, unzipping your dress as you cried about how much you need him.

Soon, your dress was on the ground and his body was connected with yours in a slow rhythm, full of lazy kisses and smiles, your face hidden in his neck as you bit him to conceal your moans when he hit that one spot which had your whole body weak.

You looked so beautiful, it made him lose his control, the sight itself had him twitching with the need to fill you up.

When you kissed him again, he finally let go, loving each second of it, knowing that you were truly his now.

Gryffindor!Sunghoon x Slytherin!reader

Trope: quidditch players, enemies to fwb

“Gryffindor! Gryffindor! Gryffindor!”

“Slytherin! Slytherin! Slytherin!”

The chants were loud, the crowd going wild at the sight of you and Sunghoon circling around each other before the game—something you always did as a challenge. It most certainly didn’t help that you were on par with each other, both chasers for your respective houses.

Watching you guys bicker was something everyone enjoyed, especially when it was about your houses and their reputations.

“You better watch out, Park,” you smirked, taking your position, “Slytherin is taking the win today,” you sang, watching his smirk grow.

“In your dreams, darling,” he whispered, winking at your right as the whistle blew.

The chants were loud and so was your motivation as you grabbed the Quaffle, successfully throwing it in one of the hoops as the crowd cheered. Watching Sunghoon scowl was a sweet treat, especially when you winked at him, passing by with the quaffle again.

The game continued for a while, your house leading by thirty points, much to Sunghoon’s dismay. You were having more fun teasing him rather than playing the actual game.

However, the second the snitch was caught by your seeker, Sunghoon got hit by a bludger, falling off his broom. You should have been celebrating his downfall (pun intended) yet you couldn’t help but worry, eyeing his figure while your team celebrated their win.

It was out of character for you to visit him in the hospital wing, but you did it, showing up with the pudding he liked—and you had no clue why you knew it. He was surprised to see it, looking away with a scoff, “why are you here, huh? To boast about your win?” He asked.

You rolled your eyes, “I came here to see if you were doing well but seeing as you can still work that mouth of yours, I’ll just assume it’s alright,” you huffed, leaving the pudding behind. Sunghoon gulped, watching you leave the hospital wing with a huff before eyeing the pudding and eating it, a sudden warmth spreading in his chest.

The bickering worsened since that day, because you had to overcome the fact that you showed care to him, your friends telling you to fuck the sexual tension out—which you won’t do even in your wildest dreams.

Sunghoon was just as furious cause he couldn’t stop thinking about you showing up at the hospital wing just to visit him, his taunts and that smirk annoying you more than ever now, you just wanted to punch him, or shut him up. It didn’t help that he looked awfully attractive with that smirk of his.

Fighting even during the dinner time was getting on everyone’s nerves, to the point you had to go to detention for pulling pranks on each other.

To diffuse this tension, he met you before the next quidditch match you had against him, “oh, ready to have your ass beat, Park?” You asked him with a mock smile.

“We’ll see who gets their ass beat, darling,” he spoke, invading your personal space by whispering in your ear, “let’s make a bet, if I win then I get to fuck you tonight.”

“What the fuck, Park?” You asked, eyes widened.

“You want it too, baby.” He says, a lazy smirk playing on his face, “besides, I won’t bother you ever again if I lose. So, do we have a deal?”

The deal was too tempting, and you weren’t sure if it was because of the fact that you’ll, (1) either be ignored by him or (2) have sex with him.

You grabbed his hand, shaking it with no aim whatsoever, you felt too lost but also determined to put up a good game.

However your mind was busy imagining his lips on yours, the smirk still present on his face, and that’s how you barely put the Quaffle in through the hoops while Sunghoon played with more energy than ever, awfully determined to win the match—win you.

The verdict? He won.

And as lost as you felt, you weren’t sad about it, in fact you were staring at Hoon who was celebrating, his eyes still on yours with that stupid smirk on his face which clearly said: you’re mine for the night.

Being in his room was crazy, the fact that he had successfully pushed out all his roomies was even crazier.

“Not fighting back anymore, kitten?” He raised his brows, his features looking sharper up close now that he had you under him, his weight on you barely giving you any space to move, his scent only driving you crazier.

“You’re the one who gave up, Park,” you finally whispered, pulling him closer by the collar with your usual expression full of mock, your finger tracing his jawline, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, “you proposed the idea of fucking me—been thinking about me then?”

His fingers traced the curve of your neck, trailing down till he settled on grabbing your waist, “what if I have? What if I wanna see you shut the fuck up when I make you cry on my cock?”

“I’d like to see you try,” you chuckled, pushing your knee up to caress against his crotch, making him hiss.

It didn’t take him any longer to practically rip off your robes, attaching his mouth to your nipples, flicking them with his tongue as he cupped your cunt as a warning to shut your mouth, but you couldn’t let him win, opening your mouth to mock him again, only to have his tongue shoved down your throat, his fingers kneading your flesh, rubbing your wetness with all his strength to have you whimpering under him.

“I hate you so much, Park,” you mumbled, breathless.

“Feeling’s mutual, kitten,” he groaned right beside your ear, finger fucking you now as his thumb worked your clit roughly, yet giving you the kind of pleasure you never thought you’d receive.

You feel hot as the guy you hate makes you moan uncontrollably, stopping right before you were about to reach your high with his same stupidly attractive smirk when you whined out of desperation.

“What’s the hurry, kitten? We’ve got all night.”

© jaylaxies | tumblr

[nezuscribe]

all i can think of is slytherin!gojo wanting to take reader to the yule ball but as always, he keeps his head down per peer pressure and instead watches ravenclaw!nanami give her the princess treatment for the night

nanami getting on one knee to tie her shoes and bringing her drinks and praising her in conversations making reader blushy blushy (altho its platonic and they are great friends)

gojo’s partner is long forgotten and suguru can tell he is not happy at all

omg yessss

and it might not even have to be a ball as grand as the yule ball, even the small winter formals hogwarts throws every now and then are just one of the things that slytherin!gojo would actually kill to take you to.

of course he doesn't and it eats at him every time, especially when he sees you with ravneclaw!nanami, one of the people he just hates. it doesn't help that he's practically well liked by everyone, the captain of the ravenclaw quidditch team, super intelligent, and an all around sweet guy.

you'd met nanami during one of your joint transfiguartion classes, and at first you thought he was just taking pity on you after seeing you sitting alone, but you came to find out that he was a really nice person, perhaps one of the only friends you've ever made during your time at the castle.

so i imagine it's sort of like a harry and luna situation, where the two of you are just close platonic friends, but slytherin!gojo doesn't see it like that, not at all.

he's just brooding the entire time during the ball, not dancing with the girl he reluctantly asked out, another pureblooded slytherin that his parents would surely approve of.

his eye is twitching when he watches you laugh out loud at something nanami said, watches as nanami rests his arm around your shoulder as you lean in to listen to what he's saying.

slytherin!gojo is just seething as he watches ravenclaw!nanami tighten the buckles of your heels, his teething grating when he sees you dance around (awfully) with him.

his best friend obviously notices this, a sly smile on his face as he takes raging slytherin!gojo in. the girl he's with is huffing and puffing, her arms crossed in anger, her face red. but it's no use, that entire night, slytherin!gojo doesn't even spare a glance at her.

all because he's looking at you.

[curawrites]

Potter

Slytherin boys (separate) x fem! Potter!reader

Slytherin boys: Draco Malfoy, Mattheo Riddle, Theodore Nott, Lorenzo Berkshire, and Blaise Zabini.

Warnings: forbidden romance?, swearing, smoking, alcohol, partying, horny teens, probably incorrect body shots.

Note: got back into Harry Potter and fell into the Slytherin boy rabbithole hole💚

Backstory:

You used to be very close to your twin brother. But your relationship changed for the worst during your first year at Hogwarts.

While Harry had been sorted into Griffindor, you had been sorted into Slytherin.

The both of you had tried to keep your relationship intact, but the rivalry between your two houses made it practically impossible.

By fourth year, you and Harry were practically strangers, and uninvolved with each other’s lives…

Draco Malfoy

In fourth year, Draco decided to ask you out to the Yule Ball. Mainly to piss off Harry.

He swaggered up to you in the courtyard and asked you very loudly in front of a lot of people, including Harry, of course!

“Heard you didn’t have a date for the ball, Potter.” He said with a smirk, “You want to be my date?”

You eyed him suspiciously before answering, “Sure, why not Malfoy.”

Didn’t expect for you to actually accept.

Low key freaking out internally.

Thought you’d just tell him to piss off.

He’s very smug about it on the outside tho.

Especially when he sees Harry fuming on the side lines with Ron and Hermione.

He then escorts you to class like the gentleman he was taught to be.

“Don’t get an ideas Malfoy. I’m only going with you to piss off my brother.” You told him as you entered potions.

“Same here, Potter.” He rolls his eyes a bit.

Glad you have the same idea but also a bit disappointed that you’re only using him.

But he’s also using you so-

When it came time for the ball, Draco was waiting for you by the stairs. Mattheo and Blaise were waiting with him.

He couldn’t lie, he was a tad nervous. Fixing his hair every 2.5 seconds to the annoyance of his friends.

“Does my hair look good?” He asked for the billionth time.

“Your hair is fine mate! Why do you even care so much it’s just Potter.” Mattheo rolled his eyes at the blond.

“It’s not about her!” Draco hissed, “..I just want to look good!” He answered semi confidently.

A few moments later you appeared and began walking down the stairs.

Draco looked at you in awe. You looked stunning all dolled up, your hair was curled and pinned up in an intricate hairdo, and the dark green dress you were wearing fitted you perfectly.

You glanced at Draco every few steps as you descended the stairs, admiring him from afar. You couldn’t lie, he looked dashing in his suit.

Blaise and Mattheo snickered behind him, shoving him forward to make him help you down the stairs.

“You look nice.” Draco said awkwardly.

“Thank you, you don’t look half bad yourself.” You responded, taking his hand as you walked down the rest of the steps.

“You cleaned up nice, Potter.” Mattheo teased.

“Shut it, Riddle.” You rolled your eyes at him.

Draco escorted you to the punch table to have a drink before you had your first dance.

When you started dancing you were both very stiff and awkward, but as the night went on you became much more natural with each other.

You and Draco went on to have a nice evening. Making show of your “relationship” by calling each other by your first names and dancing together for the majority of the evening.

When the ball finally ended, you and Draco returned to the Slytherin common room together.

“I actually enjoyed myself tonight Draco.” You admitted with a smile.

“I did to, Y/n. We should do it more often.” He smirked.

You rolled your eyes, “In your dreams, Draco.” You chuckled before to go to your dorm.

Leaving him standing in the common room, with his heart beating a few beats faster…

Mattheo Riddle

FORBIDDEN ROMANCE OMG

You both kept your distance from each other for a long while.

You didn’t want to associate with the son of the man who killed your parents.

And Mattheo didn’t give a crap about you.

You only began to associate with each other in fifth year when you became friends with Lorenzo.

Which lead to you being included into the Slytherin gang.

You decided to put your differences aside for the sake of your friend.

You’re not super close with many of them, Mattheo included.

But you have a sort of playful relationship.

You guys banter SO MUCH!

Whether it’s insulting each other or sometimes being flirty.

Harry is SIDE EYEING y’all from across the great hall.

You find Mattheo insufferable in a weird endearing way.

Sixth year hit and you’ve decided to start living it up by attending parties with the gang.

Ravenclaw had beat Hufflepuff in quidditch which made the perfect excuse to throw a party.

You and Pansy had spent the evening getting ready together in your dorm.

“We look hot~” you commented while admiring her and yourself in your full body mirror.

“We do~ Now let’s go-“ Pansy grabbed your hand and dragged you out of the dorm.

Once at the party, you had a drink to ease your nerves before you decided to join the growing circle of people playing spin the bottle. Many of your friends were sat, including Lorenzo, Mattheo, and Theo.

You sat yourself beside Lorenzo, “What are we spinning the bottle for?” You asked, almost yelling over the music.

“Body shots!” Lorenzo smirked at you playfully.

“Fun!” You grinned.

Eventually Mattheo’s turn came and the bottle landed on you. Gasps and ooos filled the circle, making you scoff. Mattheo only grinned as he grabbed the bottle of fire whiskey and a shot glass.

Ron and Hermione had to hold back Harry from causing a scene.

“C’mere, Y/n~” Mattheo smirked, motioning you over.

You rolled your eyes and walked over to him, all while he unbuttoned his shirt.

You got on your knees in front of him, squeezing your thighs together as you cunt throbbed at the sight of his bare chest.

Mattheo smirked down, “Ready?” Once you nodded he poured the alcohol down his bare torso.

You didn’t hesitate to begin licking all of the liquor off his torso, savouring the way the fire whiskey burned down your throat.

Mattheo couldn’t stop himself from getting hard at the sight of you on your knees for him staring up at him with lusty half lidded eyes. It made him feel things he knew he shouldn’t feel towards.

The crowd wooed and whistled as you finished licking his chest having made sure to not miss a drop.

“Thanks for the shot, Matty~” you purred, winking at him, your cheeks equally as red as his.

You got up from your knees and returned to your spot beside Lorenzo. Once sat, you took a deep breath to calm yourself down.

You hadn’t expected to have gotten so turned on. It felt so wrong to be attracted to Mattheo.. but you couldn’t help yourself when all you could think about was his dark lustful gaze…

Theodore Nott

You and Theodore became friends in first year.

Theodore was a bit of a loner, like yourself so you got along right away.

Because of this, you always paired up together in your classes.

Especially in potions which you both excel at. Unlike your brother, you inherited your mother’s potions skills.

You guys have definitely have bonded over dead moms/parents.

In fifth year you both became more acquainted with Draco and his gang.

It brought you guys out of your shells.

And further ruined your relationship with your brother but you didn’t really care.

You had Theo by your side and that’s all that mattered.

Although you’re “just friends” there’s definitely feelings at play.

Seeing everyone around you get into relationships made you yearn for one yourself.

Since you’re so close with Theo already you couldn’t help but think about being with him.

He’s such a pretty boy, with his hazel eyes, dirty blond hair and Italian accent.

Theodore had a little thing for you phase in third year.

He considers it a phase but the feelings never truly left.

The both of you are way to afraid to confess to each other in fear of ruining your friendship and of the retaliation from your families.

It was a Friday night and the gang had decided to sneak out of the castle to go swimming in the Black Lake.

Somehow the whole gang managed to bypass Filch and Mrs. Norris, even though the lot of you were giggling loudly at each other.

Once out of the main doors, you all ran to the rocky shores of the lake and spread out all of your towels.

Theo sat down and lit up a cigarette with Mattheo, while you took off your (Theo’s) shirt and your pj pants. Revealing your tiny bikini.

Mattheo wolf whistled at you, “Looking good Potter~” he teased.

“Fuck off Riddle-“ you said playfully and rolled your eyes at him.

“Shut it.” Theo muttered to Mattheo as he took a drag of his cigarette.

Mattheo looked at him, a grin spreading on his face, “What was that, Theo? You jealous or something? Don’t like me talking to your girl?”

“I’m not.” Theo denied as he watched you get into the water with Lorenzo, Pansy, and Draco.

He avoided Mattheo’s gaze to look at you and the others in the water.

Theo clenched his jaw as he observed you and Draco play in the water. Jealousy bubbled in the pit of his stomach.

“Sure you are.” Mattheo scoffed unconvinced.

“Fuck off-“ Theo shoved Mattheo lightly.

He took another deep drag of his cigarette in an attempt to ease his nerves.

“Theo!” You called from the water, “Stop smoking and get in the water!” You grinned joyfully at him.

Theo could feel his heart skip a beat at your radiant smile.

“Theo come on!” You called out again.

“Alright alright, bella-“ He chuckled before putting out his cigarette and getting up.

He took off his shirt and jogged towards the water.

You giggled and grabbed his arm to pull him the rest of the way.

There was no way he could let Draco have you…

Lorenzo Berkshire

Lorenzo has prided himself in his academics.

He has good grades in all of his classes.

Except in history of magic. He’s actually failing the class.

Look it isn’t his fault! Professor Binns is just such a bore.

Seeing as Lorenzo was failing, Professor Binns assigned you, Y/n Potter as his tutor.

Lorenzo was pretty happy about having a cute girl tutoring him.

You’ve intrigued him since first year but he’s never had the chance to talk to you.

But now he sees you twice a week for tutoring.

And honestly you don’t get much tutoring done.

Lorenzo is just so engaging and interesting that you just forget about what you’re there to do.

“Merlin, Lorenzo! We need to focus!” You giggled as you realized how much time you spent conversing.

“Oops!” He giggled.

You found yourself easily charmed by the boy. He was very refreshing to hang out with.

He wasn’t like the other Slytherins who gave you the cold shoulder and looked at you sideways.

Exams were in a week and Lorenzo desperately needed your tutoring if he wanted to pass history of magic.

You both decided to increase the amount of tutoring you’d be doing per week in preparation.

It was the day before exams started and your last day of tutoring.

You made the plan to study in his dorm instead of the library as you found the latter to busy. Lorenzo made sure to kick out his roommates and clean up his area in preparation.

You met up in his dorm after class and wasted no time in taking out all of your notes and textbooks out.

“Ok, Lorenzo.” You said sternly. “No more funny business we need to focus.” You sat on his bed.

He sat in front of you, nodding in agreement, “I really need to pass this exam or my dad will kill me.” He said and got his own notes out.

“Alright. I’m going to quiz you on some stuff. Look over your notes and tell me when you’re ready.” You instructed as you organized a few papers.

Lorenzo nodded and began looking over his notes, desperately trying to not get distracted at the thought that you, a cute girl was in his dorm and sitting on his bed.

“Okay I think I’m ready.” He announces after a few minutes and put his notes to the side.

“Okay… question one..” you began.

You quizzed Lorenzo for the next half hour. He was truly trying his best. What motivated him the most was the praise you gave him after each right answer.

“Good job!” “Atta boy!” “You’re doing great!” “That’s right!”

Every single one gave him butterflies.

Eventually he managed to get all of them right.

“You got every single question right!” You exclaimed with a big grin, “ Well done! I’m sure you’re going to pass!”

“You really think?” He smiled shyly.

“Of course!” You said reassuringly.

You checked your watch, you had finished your quizzing just on time.

You began to pack up your stuff, ready to head back to your dorm to do some studying of your own.

“Thank you, for all of the tutoring.” Lorenzo thanked as he helped you.

“It’s no problem at all, you’re fun to tutor.” You admit shyly, “Good luck on your exam.” You bided him before leaving.

Lorenzo watched you leave, making a note to himself to ask you out on a date after exams..

Blaise Zabini

You and Blaise got paired up for a project in potions once.

You both weren’t thrilled because you didn’t really get along.

At least you weren’t paired up with Seamus.

And in a way it worked out well for Blaise because he didn’t have to partner up with any of his idiot friends and have to do all of the work.

You did so well on the project together that Professor Slughorn decided to continue paring you guys up.

Hanging out with Blaise was now unavoidable.

Your interactions went from uninterested, cold and limited to being much more frequent and nicer.

Being much friendlier to each other also helped you work even better together.

“Hey, Zabini? How do you cut these roots again?” You asked quietly, glancing over at him.

“Oh you cut them in half and then..” he leaned over to help you.

You couldn’t help but be shy about the close proximity between you two.

He was close enough that you could smell his piney aftershave and his minty breath.

Not to mention his voice was so deep and smooth as he talked.

You snapped quickly out of it and focused back on what he was saying.

“Oh right. Thanks.” You thanked him and proceeded to cut the ingredient as he instructed.

“S’no prob.” He said, hesitating before leaving your side.

Since you were already doing so much work together, it was easier to just study together as well.

This resulted in you two spending more time together.

The library became you main hangout spot.

Away from his annoying friends who always burst into his dorm asking stupid questions just for the sake of bothering you two.

“Do you understand what question 8 means? I completely forgot what Professor Bins said about it.” Blaise asked, furrowing his brows with a sigh.

“Uh let me see..” you leaned over to read his parchment.

While you muttered the question to yourself, Blaise couldn’t help but stare at your focused face.

You looked cute, bitting your cheeks as you played with a strand of your curly hair. He could tell you had just washed it because you smelled strongly of lavender.

“Um I just wrote down this…” you sat up and grabbed your parchment.

You guys only considered yourselves acquaintances.

Yeah you found each other attractive.

You’re both attractive people after all and you were just acknowledging the obvious ok?

You two truly were oblivious idiots who couldn’t realize you had crushes on each other.

You were headed to what you thought would be another ordinary potions class.

You sat down beside Blaise and took out all your supplies, ready for whatever Professor Slughorn was going to make you guys brew.

After a bit of waiting, Slughorn began his lesson. “Today, we will be learning about Amortentia. Can anyone tell me what this potion does?”

Hermione shot up her hand eager to answer.

“Yes, Miss Granger?” Slughorn picked her.

“It’s a love potion sir.” She answered

“Corrected, ten points for Griffindor!” Professor Slughorn grinned.

He went on about the lesson, talking about the potion’s history and the risk involved with brewing it and its results.

“Now that we’re done with the lesson, I invite you all to come up and smell this batch of Amortentia I brewed just for this class.” Slughorn said enthusiastically.

You watched as your classmates went up and smelled the potion.

It was amusing seeing how many answered with a stutter and returned to their seats with reddened cheeks.

Finally it was your turn and you had no idea what you would smell.

You leaned down to take a deep inhale of the potion and the overhwhelming sent of Pine and mint flooded your senses.

“And what do you smell Miss Potter?” Your Professor asked.

You hesitated before speaking, “Pine and mint sir.” You answered.

Then the realization hit you and your eyes grew wide.

You smelled Blaise.

You blushed in embarrassment and kept your head down as you walked back to your desk.

“Who did you smell?” Blaise asked you curiously.

Before you could give him a half assed answer you were interrupted.

“Mr Zabini! Your turn!” Professor Slughorn announced.

Blaise got up from his seat and approached the potion.

It took a few smells for him to realize what he was smelling wasn’t your scent lingering on him. The potion itself smelled like lavender.

The gears in his head began to turn and it all began to fit. He smelled your shampoo.

He felt his cheeks heat up a bit from embarrassment and he quickly glanced at you.

Class was going to be very interesting…

[crescenthistory]

I saw that you wanted to write the girlies into your fics more often, so I wanted to make a request 8) Can I request a reader x Regulus where reader is crushing BAD on Reggie, and the girlies take it upon themselves to try and do a little matchmaking? I love your work, and your recent Barty fic was AMAZING btw!!!

the girlies<333 oh how i love them and their silly little adventures, thank you for giving me an excuse to write them babes! and for being soso sweet omg you're an angel

Summary: Dorcas has had it with two of her best friends walking on eggshells around each other to avoid their feelings. So, she puts her best meddlers on the case to end it once and for all, and make the idiots kiss.

Words: 5.7k

Warnings: not proofread, mutual pining believed to be unrequited love, use of y/n, slytherin!fem!reader, background girlies, rosekiller and dorlene, teasing, awkwardness, language, confessions of love, really cliche but makes up for it in sweetness?

Note: who wouldn't be down bad crying at the gym for reggie?

Though you believed being humble was virtuous, you did pride yourself with being a particularly kind person.

Most people in the castle got over well with you, and you had been able to float in and out of all the major friend groups in your year. The self-declared Marauders often ran to hide with you when chased by a consequence in one form or another, and the Hufflepuff quidditch team seemingly adopted you after you cheered them up after their first loss of the season. With all the pressures of Hogwarts and the lives you were soon to embark on afterwards, it was the least you could do to spread some joy, and perhaps receive a bit in return.

At the end of the day, you always came back to your friend group, though – a heap of entangled limbs and snickering, usually found in the same trusted corner of the Slytherin common room. Barty was always in some way or another physically on top of Evan, rarely conventional cuddling positions, while Pandora sat cross-legged on the floor by them, preferably braiding someone’s hair. Dorcas would sit on the table or lounge chair, waving her arms emphatically, often hitting either you or her girlfriend Marlene – the one Gryffindor you all collectively accepted – square in the face, multiple times throughout the night.

Oh, how you loved them.

And if their cheers every time you returned to them from your little friendship tours, as Barty called them, were anything to go by – they loved you too.

Then, there was Regulus Black.

The victim of whatever positions Evan and Barty felt like sitting in, as he always sat at the other end of the sofa they inhabited. The calm and collected of the bunch, except for when Dorcas or Barty said something particularly outlandish he just had to argue with. The multitasker, always with a book in hand, whether for personal enjoyment or study-related, somehow devouring them while catching every word around him. The wittiest one, well-timed remarks hitting people – usually Barty – square in the chest.

The object of all your desires.

Because while you were a kind person, and arguably well-liked, Regulus was the one person you never managed to get quite close to. You were in the same little circle of friends, sure, and had been having friendly conversation and banter for the past 7 years. In theory, you know each other like the backs of your hands, but in practice you had never been alone in a room with him for more than a few minutes before he runs off.

It hurt you once upon a time, wondering what was wrong with you to make him seemingly be repelled from you like oil from water. Over the years though, you realised that is just kind of how Regulus operates. There is some reason behind all the mechanics, but they are not for others to know, just him to sulk over, and you have to accept what you’re given until he’s ready to offer more. Though you tried not to dwell on the fact that it was only you he seemed to avoid to that extent. You had to leave it to him to figure it out, you had decided.

You could live with that, but distance unfortunately made your heart grow fonder. Painfully so.

Regulus Black with his gorgeous black curls that have been so soft to the touch every time you have been close to it during your late nights around the fireplace. Regulus Black with his flowy white shirts and silver rings, gleaming in the glow of Hogwarts’s many candles. Regulus Black with his stupidly beautiful laugh whenever one of his friends could withdraw a real one from him, as if fished from the depths of his chest. Regulus Black with his striking grey eyes that you could get lost in, and have embarrassingly so, many a time. Regulus Black with his–

“Y/N would you quit pining for just a second and listen to me!” Dorcas’s exasperated voice cut through your musings, as you looked up at her with a non quizzical hum, only causing her to groan louder.

You were laying on your bed, almost ready for the night, while Dorcas apparently had tried to get through to you from her own bed mere metres from yours. Your best friend was sat on her bedside, hands on her knees as she looked just about ready to tackle you. Lovingly, of course.

“How’d you know I was even thinking about that?” you challenge, but there is no real fight in you as Dorcas’s gaze has already levelled you.

“You think about much else?”

“Rude.”

“Ruder to call him ‘that’. Put some respect on Reggie’s name.” You rolled your eyes, and had to fight the urge to shush her.

“Oh, don’t worry, he can’t hear us all the way from the boys’ dormitories.” 7 years of friendship had taught her almost too much about you.

“Would you stop trying to read my mind?” You climbed over in her bed to give her the attention she so craved. “It’s a bit intense.”

Dorcas flopped down on her back, sighing at nothing in particular. “You love that I know you so well. And someone ought to read your mind, if you’re not going to speak it.”

“Maybe some things are better left unsaid,” you teased her, but she kept giving you a narrow stare.

“I simply refuse to believe that.”

“Hey, where’s Marls?” you ask, not necessarily because you missed the blonde and pink haired menace you had come to view as a sister. Mostly just to shift the topic at hand. “Wasn't she supposed to stay the night?”

“Yeah, but she’s running an errand for me.”

“An errand?” You quirked a brow at her, looking over at a clock you kept by your bedside. “12 minutes before curfew?”

“Yes,” Dorcas said, giving you a duh look. Stupid you.

As if on cue, Marlene all but kicked down your door with a grin plastered on her face. “How ya doin’ ladies? I brought friends.” In behind her came Pandora and Lily, smiling a bit more softly, though there was a mischievous glint in Lily’s eyes that could only be a poor habit picked up from a certain Gryffindor bunch.

You gave enthusiastic greetings in return, happy to see your friends, but your brow still furrowed at the unexpected guests. A quick glance at Dorcas, whose lips curled into a grin so innocent that it immediately raised suspicions, only deepened your confusion.

“What’s this about?” you asked, voice laced with curiosity but also a growing sense of foreboding. A roomful of your closest friends this late at night – this had all the hallmarks of an ambush.

“Oh, nothing,” Dorcas said, too casually. She was still sprawled on her back, her eyes half-closed, but you didn’t miss the smirk playing on her lips. “We just thought it would be super fun to have a little... chat.”

Pandora was already situated on the floor right in front of you, humming some unfamiliar tune as she twisted her locs absentmindedly, while Lily leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, a knowing smile dancing across her face. Marlene, never one for subtlety, was practically bouncing on the spot, barely containing her excitement.

“A chat?” You narrowed your eyes at them, already sensing that you were the centre of whatever this was. “That everyone knows about beforehand except me? I think that's called an intervention.”

Marlene’s grin widened. “You’re smarter than you look.”

“Hey!” You threw a pillow at her, which she easily dodged, cackling. “Okay, seriously girls. What’s going on?”

Lily stepped forward, eyes twinkling with mischief. “We’ve been talking. Well, more like observing.”

“Observing what exactly?” you asked, a sinking feeling creeping into your stomach. You knew these girls, and you knew when they were up to something.

“More like observing who,” Marlene interjected with a wink, as she casually threw herself onto Dorcas’s bed beside you, almost kicking her girlfriend in the face.

Pandora hummed softly, eyes now trained on her chipping purple nailpolish. “It’s just… you’ve been staring at Regulus like a lovesick puppy for years, and he’s been acting all distant and broody in response. Now that we're in our final year, the harmony should be set right before we all leave.”

You sat up straighter. “I have not–”

“Oh, come off it, Y/N.” Dorcas finally sat up, folding her legs beneath her. “You practically melt every time he so much as glances your way, and we’ve all seen the way you fawn over his hair like it’s spun silk. It’s borderline painful.”

Your face flushed, but you tried to play it off with a wave of your hand. “I don’t fawn.”

“You do,” Lily said, with the smallest hint of a smirk. “And Regulus? Merlin, that boy has been pining for you for too long. If you're a lovesick puppy, he's a kicked street dog.”

Your heart stumbled in your chest. “Wait– what?”

Marlene clapped her hands together in delight, as if she had been waiting for this exact moment. “Oh, darling, it’s so obvious. He’s completely smitten. Why do you think he’s always avoiding you? The boy’s terrified he’ll do something stupid like… I don’t know, confess his undying love for you in front of everyone.”

You blinked, completely taken aback. You expected them to give you a get it together speech, not... whatever this is.

“But– but, what, no, he’s always so cold around me. I thought–”

“That’s because he’s a socially inept idiot when it comes to feelings,” Dorcas interjected with a shrug, never one to sugarcoat it, though her voice softened when she took in your confused face. “Look, Regulus has spent his whole life trying to remain in control, but when he's around you he can't. So, if he can’t figure out how to act, he just… doesn’t.”

Lily nodded. “He’s not used to wanting something as much as he wants you.”

"Oh, he would not be happy knowing you're psychoanalysing him like this," you mumbled, mind whirling, to which Marlene and Dorcas just cackled.

Humour at the expense of their friend – what could be better?

You struggled to process this new information. You had left your relationship with Regulus to fate, an open invitation for friendship without pursuing anything more than that. As long as you could admire him from afar, you figured it was enough. The thought that he might have felt the same, but not know how to go about it felt foreign to you. It seemed impossible, and yet, when you thought back, the signs were there. The way his eyes lingered on you just a bit too long when he thought you weren't looking. The way his laughter – rare and beautiful – sounded a little softer, a little more genuine, when you were around. The way he physically ran away from you when you got too close, always some handy excuse ready...

You had chalked it up to his aloofness, to his enigmatic nature. A large part of you, fragile and uncertain, still wanted to.

“I don’t know…” you started, still hesitant. “What if you’re wrong?”

Pandora smiled softly at you, her eyes gentle but firm. “We’re not wrong, Y/N. The stars told me as much. But if your heart needs proof, we’re going to help you get it.”

Your gaze snapped to her, as blood rushed through your head. “Help me… how?”

“That’s the best part!” Marlene all but squealed, bouncing up from the bed and throwing her arm around you. “We’re going to play matchmaker!”

You stared at them, wide-eyed. “What? No! You’re not– no meddling! You’ll make things worse.”

Dorcas just gave you a knowing look, leaning back on her hands. “How can we make things worse if there is nothing at fuck all going on between you right now because you can't get your heads out of your asses?"

"We're friends, Dorcas!"

She sighed, as if you were a child, but gave you a soft look. You think she was trying to be reassuring. "We’re not going to make things worse. We’re going to force you two to face each other, and maybe then you’ll finally stop dancing around your feelings.”

“I don’t–”

“Too late, darling,” Marlene interrupted, her grin wicked. “Plans are already in motion.”

Lily smirked. “We’ve got it all figured out.”

You were about to protest again when Pandora placed a soft hand on your shoulder. “Trust us,” she said, her voice a soothing balm against the rising anxiety in your chest. “This is going to work.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. There was no stopping them, you knew that much. Once this group had an idea in their heads, there was no turning back. Still, the thought of whatever they had planned made your stomach twist in both excitement and dread.

Marlene clapped her hands together once more. “Right, first things first. Tomorrow, we’re going to get you two alone.”

“And then what?”

Dorcas’s grin widened. “Then, you’re going to talk to him.”

"Talk?" you repeated, your voice squeaking slightly.

"Yep," Lily said with a satisfied nod. "Just talk."

"That's the worst plan I've ever heard in my life. Scratch that, not even really a plan. Just the worst I've ever heard."

"You're lashing out 'cause you're scared." Marlene said in a fake-hurt voice, wiping invisible tears from her eyes as Dorcas shoved her.

You swallowed hard, your mind spinning with a hundred different emotions.

“Don’t worry, love," Lily almost cooed at you. "We’ll make sure everything goes perfectly.”

"How?"

"We'll see where the day takes us."

Your eyes flitted between the four of them, realising then that there was no getting out of this, and that you were not sure any of you even knew what this was yet.

You let out a groan as you flopped ceremoniously down on the bed, hiding your face in your eyes.

All girls cheered as they knew that was your sound of defeat, and thus their green flag to go crazy.

The next day, your nerves were buzzing like a poorly-executed Cheering Charm gone wrong. The plan – their plan – was apparently in full swing, and you had absolutely no control over it. In fact, your only plan was to somehow avoid being alone with Regulus Black at all costs.

Despite Dorcas's little lecture to you this morning about just ripping the fucking bandaid off love, gosh, you were entirely not on board anymore. Not that you ever were.

You had tried pleading with them again at breakfast, but they had brushed you off with reassuring pats and sly grins, as if your rising panic was nothing but a trivial detail. And so, here you were, pacing in the common room while the rest of the girls casually lounged, casting side glances at you and whispering like they weren’t blatantly scheming.

“Stop fussing, would you,” Marlene drawled, draped across one of the armchairs, looking far too pleased with herself. “We’ve got it all handled.”

“You’ve got nothing handled,” you hissed, feeling the dread creep up your spine. “You’re going to ruin everything. I mean, what if he freaks out? Or worse – what if he laughs at me?”

Lily, who was lounging with a book in her lap, raised an eyebrow over the top of it. “Y/N, Regulus Black doesn’t laugh at anything that isn’t Junior falling down the stairs. You’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, and even if he does freak out,” Dorcas added, casually tossing an apple in the air, “it’s because he’s an emotionally stunted mess, not because he doesn’t like you.”

Your face burned. “That’s not exactly comforting.”

“Trust us, Y/N. We wouldn’t be doing this if we weren’t sure," Marlene groans. "He likes you, okay? He’s just too much of a brooding, melodramatic git to do anything about it.”

You opened your mouth to protest again, but before you could, Pandora, ever the quiet voice of reason, gave you a soft smile. “It’ll be okay. Just be honest. You might be surprised by what he says.”

For half a second you dwelled on the fact that Pandora was the one everyone went to as their little therapist, and maybe her reassurance is not just speculation, as with the other girls.

You didn't allow that second to drag out, lest your head explode.

The sincerity in her voice almost made you believe them, though. Yet the idea of being locked in a room with Regulus, of all people, and forced to confront the swirling mess of emotions you had been harbouring for years? That was terrifying.

“I don’t know,” you said, backing toward the door in a desperate attempt to flee. “Maybe we should just–"

Dorcas was quicker than she looked. She slid in front of the exit, blocking your escape route with a triumphant grin. “Nope. You’re staying put.”

Before you could make a break for it, Marlene hopped to her feet, suddenly all business. “Right. It’s time. Pandora, Lily, you ready?”

“Ready,” they both said in unison, as if this were a Quidditch match and not the absolute destruction of your sanity.

“Wait– what’s happening?” you asked, voice rising with panic.

“We’re just going to have a little chat with Regulus,” Lily said with a wink, standing up and smoothing her skirt. “Should only take a minute.”

You watched in horror as the three of them sauntered out of the common room, leaving you in a state of rising dread. Dorcas remained blocking the door, arms crossed and a gleam of determination in her eyes.

“You don’t have to do this,” you said, trying one last desperate appeal to her better nature.

“Oh, I really think I do,” she replied with a grin. “Now, be a good sport. You’ll thank me later.”

Dorcas with her quidditch strength, picked you up and carried you to your dormitory despite your many loud protests. She practically shoved you inside, landing awkwardly on the floor, heart pounding in your chest.

“Just… read something and try to relax,” Dorcas called over her shoulder, slamming the door shut behind you. “We’ll handle everything.”

“Dorcas!” you yelped, but she was already gone.

You groaned, pushing yourself up off the floor and onto one of the beds, grabbing a random book from the bedside table in a futile attempt to calm your racing thoughts. It didn’t help.

Not even five minutes later, you heard the faint sound of footsteps outside the door, accompanied by hushed whispers that made your stomach drop.

“Marlene, what are you up to?” you muttered to yourself, sinking lower into the bed. You barely had time to brace yourself before Marlene’s voice echoed from the hallway, far too chipper for the situation.

“Oh, Reggie!” she called out in a sing-song voice that was dripping with false innocence. "I think I saw the creature run in here!"

Your heart immediately stuttered in your chest. No, no, no–

“In behind this... closed door?” came Regulus’s unmistakable voice, low and suspicious. There was always something about his tone, that subtle roughness to his otherwise smooth words, that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

“Ugh, yes, please go fetch it,” Lily chimed in, her tone too casual to be convincing.

There was a beat of silence, and you could practically feel Regulus’s confusion through the door. “In the girls’s dormitory?” His voice was flat, unimpressed. "Can't you guys?"

"No, you're the one who got an Outstanding in Care of Magical Creatures. Please."

They couldn't be serious. What a master plan.

“It's important, Reg,” Pandora added, ever so softly, but with an edge of persistence that could sway anyone who wasn’t keen on questioning her.

There was another pause, and you held your breath. You could picture Regulus now – his sharp, silver eyes narrowing, a flicker of doubt crossing his face, his brain probably piecing together that whatever this was, it wasn’t something he should agree to. Not even Regulus is immune to charm and coercion from his friends though –and he probably couldn’t fathom the idea of Marlene calling for his help if it weren’t truly necessary – and you clearly heard his reluctant sigh through the door.

“Fine,” he muttered, footsteps nearing the door.

You had just enough time to consider how humiliating it would be to try and throw yourself out the window, but alas, Hogwarts windows didn’t accommodate such escapes.

The door creaked open, and there he was.

Standing in the doorway, looking like the very embodiment of a storm in human form, all brooding energy and understated elegance. His black curls were slightly dishevelled, his usual pristine appearance marred just enough by the casual looseness of his shirt collar, which somehow made him look even more effortlessly intimidating.

He looked around the room, eyes landing on you and widening slightly.

"Oh, hey Y/N, have you seen–"

Before you could answer or before he could even finish his sentence – slam. The door shut behind him with a loud click, the lock snapping into place.

Regulus’s head whipped around, his hand immediately going to the doorknob, shaking it lightly. “What the bloody hell?”

You watched in horror as the unmistakable sounds of footsteps retreated down the hallway, followed by Marlene’s faint, gleeful laughter.

“I’ll kill her,” you whispered, more to yourself than anyone.

Regulus sighed deeply, his hand dropping from the door. He turned back to you, jaw tight, a muscle twitching at the corner of his mouth. "That makes two of us," he said, having clearly heard you across the room that felt increasingly smaller.

You laughed lowly, but couldn't quite meet his eyes.

“So… I’m assuming this beast was part of some master plan.”

You nodded, feeling your face heat up. “Yeah, pretty much.”

There was a heavy silence between you, the kind that felt both unbearably awkward and strangely charged. Regulus stayed by the door, leaning against it as though contemplating whether he could somehow break through it with sheer willpower. You, meanwhile, sat on the bed with your heart pounding in your chest like it was trying to escape the mess your friends had created.

Regulus’s eyes flicked to you, his expression guarded but curious. “You don’t… know what this is about, do you?”

You tried to swallow past the sudden lump in your throat, your fingers gripping the edge of the book like it might anchor you to reality. “I have a guess.”

He raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest in that way that made him look even more imposing. “And?”

“And,” you echoed, your voice faltering under the weight of what you were about to say, “they seem to think that locking us in a room together is the perfect opportunity for us to, uh… talk.”

Regulus let out a humourless chuckle, shaking his head as he leaned his back fully against the door. “Talk. Of course. That sounds exactly like something Marlene would come up with.”

There was a pause, and his gaze, which had flickered away momentarily, settled on you again. You could swear his eyes softened ever so slightly as they swept over you – taking in the awkward way you sat on the bed, your hands still gripping the book like it was a lifeline. You noticed the way his shoulders, usually squared with tension, seemed to relax just a fraction, as though being here, with you, wasn’t as unbearable as you had feared.

He cleared his throat, clearly struggling to find something to say. “So… what were you reading?”

“Oh, uh…” You squinted at the title, stifling a laughter as you realised what it was. “It’s, um… Hogwarts, A History.”

Regulus’s lips twitched, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Really? You’re reading that?”

Your face heated even more, and you quickly abandoned the book, tossing it to the side. “Okay, no. I was trying to look busy while panicking over the fact that I was about to be locked in a room with you.”

"You knew?"

"I got a small warning after I was thrown in here."

"By Dorcas or Marlene?" he asked, amusement gleaming in his eyes because he knew you meant it literally.

"Dorcas."

He hummed in approval before his brows furrowed, as if registering your whole conversation, and he took a step closer, his usual guarded exterior slipping just a bit. “Why would that make you panic?”

The one question you didn’t have a safe answer for. You could feel your heart racing again, but there was something about the way he looked at you, something soft and searching in his gaze, that made it impossible to retreat.

You swallowed hard. “Because… I don't know. You’re Regulus Black.”

The words came out in a rush, like they explained everything, and to you, they did. Regulus, though, just stared at you, his expression unreadable.

“I don’t understand,” he said quietly, his voice low but noticeably not cold. “Why would my family matter?”

You laughed nervously, standing up from the bed as if that might help calm the chaotic swirl of emotions in your chest. “Not your family. You. Regulus. You’re just... you. You’re smart and brilliant and intimidatingly beautiful and–” You stopped yourself, suddenly horrified by the direction your rant was going. “And it just didn’t seem like you’d ever want to be stuck in a room with me.”

Regulus blinked, his posture stiffening as if your words had physically hit him. For a moment, the usual cool facade he wore cracked, revealing something vulnerable beneath.

“You think I don’t want to be around you?” His voice was barely above a whisper, but there was an edge of disbelief in it.

You looked away, unable to bear the intensity of his gaze. “I mean, yeah. You always seem so distant when I’m around. Like you can’t wait to get away.”

Regulus was silent for a moment, the air between you growing thick with tension. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer, quieter. “That’s not because I don’t want to be around you.”

You lifted your eyes to meet his, surprised by the raw honesty in his voice.

He stepped closer, his movements slower, more deliberate, like he was unsure of what he was doing for the first time in his life. “I… avoid you because I don’t know how to be around you without making a fool of myself.”

You blinked, completely thrown by his confession. “What?”

Regulus exhaled a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated with himself. “I’m not good at this – at feelings. At talking, like the girls wanted. You make me feel things I don’t know how to handle. So, I do the only thing I know how to do. I keep my distance.”

Your heart thudded in your chest, a mix of disbelief and hope rising in your throat. “Regulus…”

He met your gaze, and for the first time in the years you had known him, you felt as if you actually saw him in his eyes. The real him.

“I’ve liked you for longer than I care to admit,” he said, his voice low and steady now. “And it scares the hell out of me.”

You felt your breath catch, his words sinking into your chest and settling there, warm and heavy. It was as if the entire world had shifted in that moment, the tension between you now a living, breathing thing, pulsing with the weight of everything left unsaid.

"L– liked me?"

Regulus couldn't do anything but nod.

Without thinking, you closed the distance between you, stepping closer until you were just a breath away from him. You could see the way his chest rose and fell, his eyes flickering down to your lips for the briefest second before he caught himself, jaw tightening.

“Regulus,” you whispered, the world narrowing to just the space between you. “I’ve liked you too. For so long.”

His breath hitched ever so slightly, eyes wild.

He didn’t respond with words – he didn’t have to. In one swift motion, he closed the remaining gap between you, his hands gently cupping your face as he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours.

The kiss was tentative, as if both of you were still testing the waters of something too fragile to fully comprehend. Regulus’s hands, cool but steady, cradled your face with a gentleness that sent shivers down your spine. The rest of the world faded away – your racing thoughts, your anxieties, the locked door behind you – none of it mattered in that moment.

It was just him. It had always been him.

As the kiss deepened, Regulus’s usual restraint seemed to dissolve, replaced by something raw and urgent. His fingers curled against your skin, one hand suddenly on the small of your back, drawing you closer until there was barely any space left between you. You felt his heart beating against your chest, fast and unsteady, matching the erratic rhythm of your own.

It was everything you had imagined, everything you needed.

You melted into him, lips, body and soul, before you pulled away breathless. The room felt impossibly still around you.

You were both standing there, eyes wide, inches apart, as if neither of you could quite believe what had just happened. Regulus’s lips were still parted, his gaze flickering from your eyes to your lips and back again, as though he was trying to memorise everything about this moment.

"Do you mean it?" he murmured. You felt his lips brush yours as he spoke.

You didn't need to ask what he meant. Instead you whispered a passionate yes before kissing him again, lingering against him. You could feel him begin to smile against you.

"This is not what I expected to come out of this," you whispered, your voice shaky but filled with a quiet, disbelieving laugh.

Regulus let out a breathless chuckle, one that sounded almost surprised, like he couldn’t quite believe it either. “I can't say I did either.” He paused, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek. “But I’m not complaining.”

You smiled, warmth flooding your chest, and for the first time in what felt like forever, there was no uncertainty hanging between you. Just you and Regulus, and the quiet realisation that maybe, just maybe, all those years of longing and misunderstanding had led you exactly where you were meant to be.

You were about to say something – something witty, maybe, to break the tension – but then–

BANG!

The door flew open, slamming against the wall with such force that both you and Regulus jumped apart, your heads whipping toward the entrance just in time to see Marlene, Lily, Dorcas, and Pandora tumble inside, practically tripping over each other in their mad dash to get through the door.

“There they are!” Marlene shouted, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. She pointed dramatically at the two of you, looking like she had just witnessed the Quidditch World Cup. “I told you it would work!”

Lily snorted, pushing past Marlene and raising an eyebrow as she glanced between you and Regulus, both still slightly dishevelled and very much caught in the act. “Honestly, Marlene, you could have given them a few more minutes.”

You groaned, heat rushing to your face as you buried it in your hands. “Were you all just waiting outside the entire time?”

Pandora gave you an apologetic smile, but there was a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. It made her look all the more like Evan. “We were just… keeping an eye on things.”

Regulus, who had taken a deliberate step back when the door burst open, gravitated slightly more towards you again as he ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t believe you lot talked me into this.” For all intents and purposes he looked exasperated – but his lips twitched in amusement.

“Oh, don’t act like you hated it,” Dorcas teased. “You’re welcome for the facilitation by the way.”

“Facilitation?” Regulus repeated, his voice dry as he glanced around the room full of over-enthusiastic matchmakers. “That’s one word for it.”

Marlene was practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. “I have no words for how pleased I am with myself right now.”

"Evidently." You and Dorcas chorused at the same time, causing you both to giggle, though you tried to stifle it.

“You’re all completely insufferable," you said through an ever-growing smile.

“And yet,” Marlene drawled, throwing an arm around Dorcas’s shoulders, “you love us anyway.”

Regulus caught your eye, and despite the absurdity of the situation and the embarrassment of being ambushed by your meddlesome friends, you couldn’t help but laugh. His lips quirked up in that rare, almost-hidden smile he reserved for moments like this.

“Alright, alright,” Lily said, clapping her hands together as if trying to herd a group of first-years. “Now that this mission is accomplished –” she shot a pointed look at you and Regulus, “– we should probably leave them alone.”

Marlene looked like she was about to protest, but Pandora nudged her toward the door. “Give them some space.”

As they filed out, Marlene shot you one last wink over her shoulder. “Don’t worry, I expect all the juicy details later.”

You groaned again, shaking your head as they finally disappeared down the hallway, their laughter echoing faintly behind them. When the door closed with a soft thud, the room seemed impossibly quiet again, save for the soft crackle of the fire in the corner.

You turned back to Regulus, who was watching you with a look that was both amused and affectionate, his usual mask of indifference nowhere to be found. He stepped closer to you, arms circling around your waist.

"Your friends are idiots," he said with no real malice in his tone.

"Yeah, but so are we."

In privacy with you, Regulus's smile widened in a way that made your stomach flip, as he leaned in for another kiss.

[viperify]

girl omg i need academic rivals with mattheo !!! the rest is up to you, ily 🫶

Smutmas 2024 | 𝗱𝗲𝗰 𝟬𝟭: ᴍᴀᴛᴛʜᴇᴏ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ X ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Just shut up.

Short summary: Turns out even the best have to resort to cheating once a while. You wouldn’t let him get away with it though. As you then pay him a visit at his dorm, confronting him, he turns to his usual methods of getting himself out of trouble…

Warnings: oral f!receiving, rough sex (somewhat), unprotected p in v

A/N: This is my first time writing Mattheo. Be nice. 😾

wordcount: 2,2k

You couldn’t believe what you had just witnessed from the back of the classroom.

The self-claimed Potions master, Mattheo Riddle, cheating on an exam while Snape wasn’t looking in his direction. Shaking your head slightly, you averted your attention back to your exam paper. You couldn‘t let him get away with that. Especially as Potions was one of the few subjects he could easily outscore you in.

Christmas should be the festival of love and peace, you knew that. Though him getting a better grade than you solely because he cheated – it wasn’t right.

Festive decorations adorned the castle at this time of the year. It was soothingly calm around you, only distant whispers cutting through the otherwise quiet surroundings. Clearly, you thought. Not many students were around at that point anymore, most of them having left the castle to return home during the break. You sighed, secretly wishing to go home, see your parents, who currently were on a trip to visit a distant family member.

Exhaling softly, you made your way back to the Slytherin dormitories after having eaten dinner in the Great Hall. You descended the stairs and just when you were about to enter your dorm, a familiar figure disappeared behind the corner leading to the boys’ dormitories. The brunette curls undoubtedly revealed it was Mattheo, who had apparently also stayed back at Hogwarts. Perfect, you thought.

You reckoned it was a great idea to pay him a visit, to confront him, threaten him. You assumed you’d get something out of it, make him admit his wrongdoings. Though it didn’t exactly go according to plan.

That’s how you now find yourself trapped between the cold stone wall of his dorm and himself, easily towering over your smaller form.

“You might want to repeat that?” He sneers, acting like he didn‘t hear you the first time. You knew his games, the way he was trying to intimidate you, silence you. You wouldn’t give in that easily though.

“You cheated on the Potions exam, Riddle. I saw it. And if you don’t admit it yourself, I will have to report you.” You state best as you can, arms crossing over your chest, standing your point.

His eyes darken, realization setting in. He scoffs, inching closer to you. “You didn’t see shit.“

You almost laugh. “Well, I did. And you will have to live with the consequences.”

He just looks at you for a few seconds, and you can almost see the thoughts forming behind his brown eyes. A sly smirk forms on his lips. Mattheo then leans in impossibly, uncomfortably close to your face, but you are denied any complaints as he speaks up.

“You know, darling“ he pauses, his breath hot against your cheek as his fingertips ever so softly trail up the exposed skin of your thigh, halting when he reaches the hem of your skirt. “I have also happened to catch a sight of you looking for the answers just about… here.” With that, he firmly squeezes the flesh of your thighs, drawing a breathy gasp from you, his touch electrifying on your hot skin.

“That’s not- not true.“ you stammer and he grins in response. Fuck.

Mattheo’s gaze sinks to where he had just touched you, exhaling shakily as his eyes travel back up your form, and after staring an awful long time at your covered breasts, his brown eyes finally meet yours. “I too could tell on you. How you write the answers under that slutty skirt of yours.”

You huffed, shaking your head slightly, finally turning away to escape his intense stare.

“Hm? Cat got your tongue?” He smirks sheepishly, delivering another squeeze to your thigh.

“Riddle I sw-“ your words were cut off by his lips hungrily crashing onto yours, his hand sneaking up to wrap around your throat, softly squeezing down around it. “Shut up.” Mattheo groans as you two break apart, catching your breath. “Let’s forget about it. Just shut up.”

“That’s how you solve your problems, is that it, hm?” You sneer, wiping your lips with the back of your hand. “I am not one of your toys. It doesn’t work li-“

He cocks an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards. Another kiss, this time more wanting, hungrier, and to your dismay, you couldn’t help yourself but moan into the kiss.

Then, when you were able to overcome your demons and finally kiss him back, he pulls away, his signature smirk decorating his face. “It doesn’t work like that, huh?” He taunts, winking at you, taking a step back.

Idiot, you think. Your eyebrows furrow, pushing yourself of the wall. “Just shut up.” You murmur, closing the gap between you two another time.

Then, his hands sneak around your waist as he groans into your mouth, pulling you with him as he sinks down onto his bed. Mattheo has you sat on his lap while you two practically devour each other, your hand tugging on his brunette curls, that you, if you now think about it, learned to love over the years. When you then break apart and slowly open your eyes, you find a changed man in front of you. He doesn’t any longer look at you in spite, if anything – with pure lust. A sight you preferred a thousand times over the usual way he would glance at you during classes.

As he is adjusting his posture, slightly thrusting upwards in the process, you feel it. You feel just how hard he is underneath you. You bite your lip and grin, eagerly grinding your hips on him, causing friction just where you need it most. One of his hands guides you, the other trailing up your thigh. He barely touches your skin, yet you feel the burn of his touch. It’s hot, it’s electrifying. It’s what you have secretly desired for a long time. Mattheo steadily makes his way under your skirt, giving the flesh of your ass a firm squeeze. You moan, and as you tilt your head back, he leans in to trail soft, open mouthed kisses all the way from your jaw down to your shoulder and back up. He sucks, bites, leaves marks. “Fuck- you are mine now. Want it or not, I don’t give a damn.”

The only reply you manage is a quick nod, though clearly unsatisfied with your non-verbal answer, his teeth dig into your tender skin, not enough to draw blood, yet enough to leave a bruise. “M’ yours! All yours!” You hiss, not really thinking about what you are saying, too focused on the building ache in your lower stomach, too focused on how his lips feel on your body. “That’s a good girl.” The brunette praises you, now slightly thrusting against you. At this point, you are a mess. You feel your arousal sticking to your panties, surely already having left a wet patch on his trousers as well.

“Merlin Mattheo, please, I need you.” You whine, close to begging him with all you have left just to feel him inside of you. Pathetic, you think to yourself. Mere minutes ago you were still up against his throat. Atleast you now have an answer. The rumours are true after all, he truly knows how to wrap girls around his finger. You just didn’t think he could do it with you. Yet here you are, yearning to have all of him.

He doesn’t leave you much time to rethink your choice, making quick work of your clothes before he flips you around, almost too easily, too skilled, you think, but you don’t dare complain. Not now, when you are too far gone anyway, mind clouded by pure lust.

Mattheo places himself between your legs, and you close your eyes in anticipation. You feel just how hot his breath is against where you need him most, where every nerve of yours is aching to be touched, to be caressed. And so he does, softly at first. He leans down to place a kiss on your clit, drawing a moan from your parted lips.

With your eyes still closed, every single touch, every breath of his feels a hundred times more intense, and you almost shriek when his tongue first slides through your folds, and he groans, the vibrations spreading through your core. “Who knew you would taste so fucking heavenly, hm? You are soaked, and it’s all for me, darling.”

You open your mouth to argue with him, tell him to just shut up and get to work. Mattheo though is just a tad bit quicker and finally wraps his lips around your puffy clit, expertly licking and sucking on it, adding two fingers which immediately find the spongey spot inside of your cunt that has you see stars.

“Eyes on me, pretty girl.” He demands, and you do as he says, even though it’s hard to keep your eyes from rolling to the back of your head with how good he’s making you feel.

You threaten to get lost in the depth of his brown eyes that draw you right in as he stares back up at you. And then, you clench around him, exhaling through your mouth as your head falls back, your surroundings suddenly becoming a blur when you feel yourself at the brink of release. One last thrust of his fingers, you think, and your body would shatter, shatter around the very man you despised. But then- suddenly, it’s gone and you feel empty, your orgasm fading away. Your eyes blink open to spot a half amused Mattheo in front of you, licking his fingers clean.

“What the fuck?” You exclaim, catching your breath. “I was so close!”

He laughs. “Darling, the only way you are going to come is around my cock.”

You scoff in return. That fucking idiot. “I hate you, Riddle.”

“You hate me, huh?” He asks with a smirk, voice low and seductive as he pushes himself up, inching closer to your face, now a mere centimetre away from your lips. He looks down at them and back up again to meet your wanting eyes. “Yet, I get to fuck you.”

“Go on then. Do it.” You encourage him, because after all, you have had enough. You need this release, whatever it may cost. He smirks, well aware of how much it infuriates you.

Then finally, you feel his tip pressing against your entrance. And he moves slowly, too slow for your liking. First, he looks down to where your bodies are about to connect, and then, with a bit more doubt present in his voice, he asks you one last question. “You ready? I am not going to be gentle.”

“I don’t want you to be.” You reply huskily, and at last, Mattheo pushes into you. You gasp at his size as you stretch around him, almost painfully so, and he slows down for a moment. “Matt-“

He shushes you. “I know. Just breathe.” You nod. One slow and deliberate thrust after the other, letting you adjust to him. When he feels you relax around him, he finally picks up the pace, your legs wrapped around him as he thrusts into you. “Oh Merlin- please-“ you moan, and he glances down as he hovers over you. “What do you want, darling? Tell me.”

You want him, all of him. Deeper, harder, anything. “Please, I need you. Need more of you.”

Mattheo nods in response, breathing heavily above you, his curls sticking to his forehead as gives you what you want. He slams into you from a different angle now, allowing him to go deeper, brushing against your cervix with almost every thrust.

“Fuck Mattheo, please- I am going to-“ you almost scream, the sensations overwhelming as his fingers find your needy clit, rubbing figure eights on it. “Me too, darling. Let go for me. Show me how pretty you look when you come for me.”

His words send you spiraling over the edge, pure pleasure reverberating ting through your body, and for a moment you feel like you are levitating, levitating from the way your climax had struck you, from the way he was making you feel. You clench frantically around him, and he groans loudly. His thrusts have now become ragged and uneven, cock twitching before he spills himself inside of you at last, thick, hot ropes of cum decorating your inner walls. Mattheo then collapses on top of you, entirely spent as your sweaty bodies embrace each other.

You both catch your breaths as you calm down from your highs, and after a minute he rolls off of you. You sit up, expecting him to tell you to leave either way. Though, he grabs your arm and pulls you against his chest. “Where do you think you are going?”

“I thought you’d want me to go. You know this was only for-“ he sighs and closes his palm over your mouth. “Just shut up.” He says.

You decide to stay with him in the end, lying on his chest. Just as your eyes were threatening to close, his heartbeat lulling you to sleep, he speaks up once more.

“Christmas is the festival of love and peace, I assume you are aware of that?”

You nod and he lets the thought linger in the air for a while.

“Truce?”

“Truce.” You smile.

[cindyss]

my shorts don't have laces

theodore nott x female reader

Hermoine is aware of y/n’s feelings toward theo, therefore when she gets the chance, hermoine makes it her job to get them close to eachother

1.3k words

You and Hermione were in your shared dorm, getting ready together for the pool party thrown.

You put your matching black swimsuits on and put your hair up so that it doesnt get wet from the water.

“Hermoineeeee” you sigh. “Is- is uhh is, is theo gonna be there?” You ask hesitantly.

Hermoine had always been aware of your feelings toward theo and she made no effort to stop teasing you about it.

“Ugh, y/n, yes he is” she spoke as she rolled her eyes.

“Do i look good, should i tie my hair or keep it in a claw-clip like this? Omg idk what to do i feel so ugly. Should i change this swimsuit?” you complain

“Y/l/n, one more word i swear. You look gorgeous, ur perfect. How many times do i need to tell you that?” She said.

You jump into her arms before she could finish, “god hermoine i love you” you say.

“Yeah i know bla bla bla bla, now we have a party to get to and boys to impress” she winked before dragging you out of the room.

You get to the party and ur eyes immediately begin scanning the room, in search of theo. In no time you spot him, sat in the hot tub with cormac, harry, ron, ginny, and luna.

Hermoine notices your intentions and grabs your hand leading you to the hot tub, “hermoine, no, im not ready yet!!” you sigh.

“too bad” she says before jumping in the hot tub. “shoot, y/n, there’s no more place for you, but im sure theo would be more than pleasured to keep you on his lap” she giggled.

You and theo didn’t hate eachother, you weren’t friends either. However, there was always tension between the two of you, even Neville could catch it.

He patted on his lap, gesturing for you to come over “c’mere” he said. You drag ur feet in the water and adjust ur sitting on his lap.

Looks and smiles exchange between everyone in the tub and you begin to feel the tension form. Cormac, next to you, starts talking about his previous experience with the ladies and other stuff.

And while ur listening, trying to act interested in whatever he’s talking about, you feel something poke from under you.

You also feel theo’s hands wrap around ur waist from under water which makes you let out a loud gasp, loud enough for the people in the hot tub to hear at least.

Everyones heads turn around to you, “sorry guys, thought i saw a bug” you laugh it off and all ur friends go back to their conversations.

The poking from under you only got more annoying, so you turn ur head, “theo, the laces of ur swimsuit are poking me, can u do something about it?” You speak.

“Cara mia, my shorts don’t have laces” he whispers to you, you could feel his breath on ur ear. “Fuck theo” you say.

He looks at you and then says something again “i say we get out of here darling before i can’t control myself anymore”.

You immediately jump up, and theo follows you. “If you’ll excuse us, we have some business to manage” he jokes pointing at the both of you.

“Get out of here man” Ron laughs.

“God please no” this, from Luna.

“Off you go” hermoine says smiling.

Theo then grabs your hand, two towels, and starts leading you back to his dorm. On ur way there, he wraps one of the towels around you, making sure you’re not cold.

When you get there, the Slytherin boy wastes no time locking the door and smashing his lips onto yours, immediately also allowing his tongue to slip in.

The kiss was not sweet, it was slow yet passionate and hungry. The boy was practically eating your face off while he has you pinned on the wall.

In a sudden movement, theo slips his hands under your thighs and carries you up into his arms. He carries you to his bed, the kiss ongoing, and makes you lay there.

He wastes no time unclasping your bikini and sucking on your tits. Your fingers meet his hair and you start tugging at it as he sucks on your nipples.

He leaves kisses on your boobs and cups them while he moves back up to your lips, also removing your underwear. They meet again and this time the kiss is faster, deeper, and hungrier.

“I- i.. fuck” he says in between kisses.

“Mhm?” you wonder.

“My friend down there, fucking hell, he needs attention.” the boy explains.

You laugh and start working your way, trying to remove his shorts. He turns over making sure to provide you with enough space to take control.

You make your way down, leaving kisses down his ab lines. You slowly lower his shorts and begin trailing his v line with your fingers.

You then remove his shorts completely and for a second, you are taken back by his large size.

His wet, throbbing cock was now inches away from your face. You begin by licking his tip, slowly and carefully before taking him in all in one go.

To that, he gasps, his hands then move to your head guiding you, he grabs onto your hair and leads you.

He even makes you gag a few times when he hits your throat, which you pinch his thigh for that.

You speed up your movements as you wanted to be the one to make him cum first, and you wanted to be the one that makes it happen faster.

“Cara mia” he spoke. “Im gonna.. soon. Im gonna.. fuck”.

You mumble a quick mhm as you speed your movements.

“Fuck you’re so good at this”. he praised

You smiled to yourself before he finally came on your mouth, he squeezed your hair as he released.

You move back up to him and stick your tongue out to show him you swallowed it. You then start kissing him again, slipping your tongue inside, his hands wrapping around your waist.

“You know ur actually gorgeous, youre so perfect. A goddess i swear” he said as you were sat on his lap, staring deep into his eyes.

“Tell me something in italian” you ask.

“Hmm? Something like what ehh?” he smirks.

“Anything” you smile.

“Well.. ti scoperò finché non potrai più camminare.” he said in a whisper.

“And that means?” you wonder.

“I’ll fuck you till you cant walk” he spills.

“Oh is that so?” you giggle.

he nods and then you give him the look of affirmation before he slams into you, which makes you let out a gasp before adjusting yourself to his size.

You then start working ur hips in sync with his, riding him while his hands roam ur body, touching every bit of skin he could get his hands on.

“Fff.. fuckkk, you look too good like this” he praised. “dannatamente perfetto”. (fucking perfect)

you smile and in a sudden movement, he flips you over so hes in control, he starts speeding and you grab onto the sheets for dear life.

He leans in and kisses you, you moan into his mouth and his swollen tip hits your spot, the one that sends you to the moon and back.

“FUCKING HELL!!” you scream, “THEODORE IM GONNA CUM”. He speeds up his movements and guides you as you release.

“è stato fantastico, bellissimo” (that felt amazing, beautiful) he spoke slumping on the bed next to you.

“You really gotta start teaching me italian so i can understand what ur saying” you chuckle.

“Oh yeah? What if i dont want you to understand what im saying” he teased.

“Uhh oh, we might have a problem then” you both laugh as he hugs u tightly, kissing ur temple.