#Ron is head over heels

[foreignjello]

“Hagrid,” Ron whinged, his throat constricting, eyes becoming misty because he couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t do anything even as his best mate was probably being-

But then Ron spotted a centaur coming their way, and on his back was Harry. Relief instantly flooded Ron as he sprinted towards Harry. 

“Harry!” Ron shouted as he practically threw himself at his best friend, who barely caught him just as he was set down by the centaur.

“I’m fine,” Harry whispered to Ron, before looking up at Hagrid. “The unicorns dead, Hagrid, it’s in that clearing back there.”

I need moots to talk about ronarry, drarry, dron, etc with plsssssssss

[alwayshinny]

Hinny 🪺 - AU where everyone lives

Jily organized an Easter egg hunt for Harry and his friends, but their son had completely abandoned his basket. Instead he's happily trailing after Ginny and helping her find chocolate eggs as they giggle with one another. By pure coincidence, all of the chocolate eggs he's finding mysteriously match the colors on her dress. Lily isn't sure how to feel as she watches her little man run his hand through his hair (just like his father!) before slipping his arm around her shoulder.

[theaskywalker]

Imagine Ron accidentally drinking Amortentia and falling head over heels in love with you

Masterlist

[rainydayathogwarts]

"Malfoy" "Weasley" - bill weasley x malfoy!reader

summary: when you watch the quidditch world cup with your family, the last thing you're expecting is to see an old friend. a weasley. wc: 1.2k+ cw: one tiny mention of abuse

The buzzing energy in the stadium felt as though it had suddenly been muffled as four figures entered the box. They walked with matching gait; confident, every pair of shoulders rolled back to walk with a perfect posture, a slow yet steady pace of footsteps that established power.

The Malfoys.

Harry swallowed thickly as he set his eyes on an unfamiliar figure. One he had never seen before, yet was so unmistakably Malfoy.

It was as though every sound in the stadium was muted, other than the seductive click of your heels on the floor. Harry took in your appearance from the floor upwards, watching the twinkle in your eyes in amazement. Despite the features you inevitably shared with the rest of your family, there was something different about you.

Something mischievous.

The boy who lived was snapped back to reality when Bill — who he had only met two days ago but already trusted with his life — spoke up.

“Malfoy.”

His statement wasn’t one filled with hatred, much to Harry’s surprise. No, it was amused, familiar, and it was targeted to you. As though you knew each other like two good friends. Whilst the rest of your family walked on with intimidating glares on their faces as they passed the Weasleys, you slowed your step down, keeping eye contact with Bill as your lips tugged up into an unbelievable smile, the wine red of your lipstick perfectly contained between their lines.

“Weasley.”

And you were gone.

Catching up to your family at a leisurely pace, you took a seat next to them, crossing one elegant leg over the other. Harry saw Draco turn to look at you judgementally, and his lips moved in a silent question.

You brushed him off. Harry’s eyebrows furrowed, listening in to the conversation that started between the Weasley siblings. “What was that?” Asked Ron with an exasperated breath. “Just greeting an old friend.” The older brother replied.

It was like watching Ron lose respect for his oldest brother, looking at him as though he grew two extra heads. Harry pondered silently for a moment. If Ron had such a reaction to his brother being friends with a Malfoy, how would your parents have reacted when they found out? Why hadn’t they said anything?

“Was she with you in school?” Harry found himself asking, and Bill nodded, gaze finding you again. The boy knew he shouldn’t think about it too much. Perhaps mind his own business for once.

But when you stood up from your seat at half-time, walking towards the group and Bill rose from his place to meet you, Harry couldn’t help but think of the two of you together. At Hogwarts. It was nearly impossible to imagine the both of you as teenagers, smiling fondly at each other as you walked through the halls.

A forbidden romance.

Had you been in love, or were you just unlikely friends? Whatever it was, it had evidently developed, Harry thought, watching as Bill leaned down closer to you to hear whatever it was you had to say, both of you smiling like idiots in love. Your hand slid down to the railing that Bill was tightly clutching, boldly placing your hand over his. Bill glanced down at the feeling of your touch, and he turned his hand over so his palm was facing upwards and he could properly hold your hand, his larger, veiny one encasing yours.

Behind the pair of you, your parents had tuned around from their conversation to watch you and the so called blood-traitor. Narcissa had placed a hand on her husband’s arm, prompting him to look away from the treacherous acts occurring in front of them. “Your parents still not too fond of me, I’m guessing?” Bill teased, and you tilted your head to the side with an apologetic smile.

“You know how they are. But it didn’t stop me when we were students and it won’t stop me now.”

Bill reached up with his free hand, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Your eyes were glued to his face, so kind, so handsome.

You sighed.

“I’m an adult now,” You started, cutting off your own train of thoughts. “They can’t do anything about it anymore.”

Anymore.

Because when you’d been at Hogwarts, your parents had sent you howler after howler. They’d even pulled you out of class one time to lecture you about loyalty. You remember what you told your father that day. “I am loyal! I’m loyal to my friends, I'm loyal to the people I care about. I’m loyal to Bill, and you can’t do anything about it.” He had hit you across the face.

It didn’t stop you from sneaking out of your dorm every night to meet him in the girls’ third floor bathroom, a room that had become your ultimate rendezvous spot. Romantic.

Bill cleared his throat softly, looking around to find his entire family staring at your interaction. “Would you like to go for a walk?” He asked as he tore his eyes from them. You glanced around, staring at the empty pitch for one long moment before you spun around to look at him again, nodding eagerly. “I’d like that, yeah.”

Harry tried not judging you as you walked down the stairs, hands linking as you disappeared from sight. People do crazy things for love, he decided, realising you’d decided to skip watching half of the quidditch world cup to rekindle your relationship.

But maybe your decision had been smart, because as Harry and the Weasleys returned to their tent, they had caught you leaving. Bill held the tent's flap open, letting you through. You straightened up, eyes widening as you came face to face with his entire family, knowing you must have looked a mess. Fred, George and Charlie all had matching grins on their faces as they took in your unusually messy hair, smudged lipstick, bruising hickeys on your neck and chest exposed by the low neckline of your dress.

Bill looked just about the same, except most of the lipstick marks on his skin were covered by the collar of his shirt, trailing underneath it. You ducked your head down in embarrassment, gasping when Mr. Weasley patted your shoulder, saying “It’s good to see you again, y/n.”

“You too, Mr. Weasley.” As Bill kept eye contact with his three most delinquent brothers, he knew he was in for insurmountable amounts of teasing when he would enter the tent once more. Bill closed the tent’s flap when his family went inside, pulling a face at you when he faced you once more.

Giggling, you took three steps towards him, clutching his collar tightly and forcing him closer to you. Bill’s hands settled on your hips, and he leaned down to press a long kiss to your lips. You sighed in satisfaction, trailing your hands up to settle on his shoulders. Your lips separated with a loud smooching sound that had your cheeks flushing hotly and you looked away, making steady eye contact with Draco, who had been watching your interaction from afar.

“Better get here before the parents do!” He called out, and you nodded, looking between him and Bill quickly. “Um, he has a point.” You mumbled, pushing yourself on your tippy toes to press one last peck on his lips.

“At least promise me a date?”

“I can promise you more than a date, Mr. Weasley.”

“Oh please, Mr. Weasley is my father.”

[kmt123whatsthetea]

The wonders of ink

Fred Weasley x reader x George Weasley

‘Fred and George prank you by getting your clothes dirty, only to take you to the bathrooms to help you clean off’

A/N: I decided to repost (so nobody thought I was dead). I’ve been gone for so long and I feel guilty so I decided to deliver smut upon you all haha. My dear sister helped me to write this (Her Wattpad account is @Darkness_Donut. Feel free to give her a look if you’re in the Wattpad area)

T/W: Unprotected sex, The twins being kinda pervy, Groping, Double penetration

Fred and George put a lot of work into every prank.

Whether it was as simple as a ‘Hex Me’ note on Ron’s back or as sophisticated as creating a new type of chocolate that caused facial warts.

Not only did they put work into their pranks, but they also put pride into them. Each one was like their child, born and sent into the world to cause mischief. The prank they planned for you, however, was less like a prank and more like a plot for something even better than the typical annoyed scowl the pranks were usually met with.

While other students prepared for various classes and homework projects, Fred and George would stay locked in their dorm, perfecting the key catalyst for their interaction with you.

The twins were head over heels in love with you. While most people would approach you with a normal greeting and a proposition for a date, the twins needed to do more. Go big or go home was practically their motto. So when their newest creation was ready, all they had to do was wait for the perfect moment.

____________________________________________

You had been in the courtyard. Your nose stuck in the book that was cradled in your hands. So unsuspecting and sweet. The way the wind blew your hair, how your eyes were glued to the words.

George approached you, not too close that you’d notice but close enough that he could start phase one of the plan. He pulled out a small vial, the liquid inside a dark blue that stained the glass. He took a deep breath before uncorking the bottle and taking a step closer, ‘tripping’ over the tree branch and spilling the liquid over your uniform.

You squealed and moved the book aside, looking between the fresh stain and the redhead who threw it on you.

“George! What in Merlin's beard have you done?!”

George just shrugged his shoulders, putting on an apologetic look. The same look he gave his mum when she scolded him for putting a spell on Percy’s breakfast which caused the sausages to spout legs.

“I didn’t mean too, honest. I just kinda…tripped”

You did not look pleased, understandably so. George almost felt guilty but then he remembered the plan. It was all going smoothly, even if you might disagree.

“I feel awful. How about we go to the Prefects bathroom and get you cleaned up before it dries?”

With a sigh, you followed George.

The walk to the prefect's bathroom was filled with you grumbling about the stain and scolding George for not being careful. The bathroom was empty (all thanks to a little spell that temporarily made the door disappear). The baths were filled to the brim with hot water and bubbles, steam dampening the air.

Fred emerged from around one of the pillars, smirking as he looked you up and down.

“Good job, George. I knew you could get our girl here. You know, love, you should really clean up that stain. Wouldn’t want Snape taking away our hard earned points, now would you?”

George moved closer to you, his chest barely touching your back. Fred leaned against the pillar, staring at the black spot on your shirt. You crossed your arms, letting out a huff. You could practically see the burning desire in Fred’s eyes from across the room, the heat from George sneaking through the back of your shirt and warming your skin.

“You’d both like that, huh? Why don’t I just have a bath while I'm at it?”

George ignored your sarcastic tone and leaned closer, his breath tickling your ear.

“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea, sweetheart. We’ll get you nice and clean”.

Something about George’s soft tone caused your hands to rise to your top button, both sets of eyes glued to your fingers as they popped open the first button of many. One by one, your shirt slowly opened. The shirt had luckily (or unluckily) caught the liquid and stopped it from seeping through to your bra and skin underneath.

George helped you to slip the fabric from off your body before Fred stepped closer and took it from him. He held it up with a smirk.

“There’s nothing here, love. Maybe you just wanted to get naked for us”.

The white shirt was clean. Not a spot or stain in sight. The sight of your wide eyes and confused look made Fred chuckle. George rubbed your arms.

“Our newest prank, disappearing ink. We heard Harry talking about how his idiot muggle cousin had some so we wanted to make our own. We made it especially for you”.

Your hand darted out to snatch the fabric from Fred, smoothing your fingers over the fabric that was once stained to see if it was really gone. Both boys watched as your expression turned from confusion to shock to a mix of desire and anger. You were angry that the twins had tricked you and pulled you away from your book but you couldn’t help but feel hot at the thought that they made an ink just to get you in your bra. Maybe a reward for all their hard work wouldn’t be so bad.

George tugged on the bra clasp, his lips ghosting down your neck before pressing a kiss to your shoulder. A shiver ran up your spine at the feeling, but you didn't push him away. Fred toyed with the hem of your skirt, watching as your eyes glazed over with desperation.

“I need you both. Please make me feel good”

Fred tugged your skirt up, using his other hand to trace his fingers over the elastic of your underwear. He slowly trails your underwear down your smooth legs and helps you step out of them so your dripping folds are on display to him. As you look upon their faces, both of them lick their bottom lips in unison. George finally pulls your bra off, tossing it with your discarded shirt.

How could you look so innocent in just your skirt with your tits out? To the twins, you were like a graceful doe who wandered into the hunters' den. George practically growled as his hands groped your tits, squeezing the sensitive flesh. Your eyes closed and you let out a whimper that was sweeter than any sugary treat from Honeydukes.

Fred took the opportunity to unzip his trousers, shimmying them down enough to pull his cock out. Every noise that escaped your lips made it jerk in his hand. He stepped closer, his tip pressing snugly against your clit and leaving a splodge of precum. His hand wrapped around your thigh, tugging it up and over his hip while George held you upright. His head speared through your folds, your slick coating his shaft.

“Do you want this, love? You want me inside of you? Maybe we should see if that tight little hole can handle Georgie and I at the same time. I can feel how wet that makes you, Sweetheart. The thought of taking two cocks, we’d break that sweet pussy open”

George tugged at your earlobe with your teeth, only pulling back when a whine bubbled up from your throat.

“I think you want us to ruin you for other men”

Your voice couldn't have been more than a whisper, but it was filled with every dirty promise and beg that would only be privy to the twins’ ears.

“I want you two. I want other guys to look at me and know that I belong to you”

“Sweetheart, you already belong to us”

George moved his hand down to push his trousers down and pull his cock out, pressing it at your entrance before pulling you against him. His cock slid inside of you, your warm cunt hugging his shaft.

Fred brushed his fingertips against your clit, taking in the sight of your hole stretched around his brother's cock. It was gonna be a tight fit. He nudged at your entrance, his tip trying to find a space big enough to squeeze into. With a bit more persistence, he was pushing forward, the desperation to be buried inside of you fueling him.

You tried to stay still, trying not to squirm or clench. The stretch was so intense that you swore you could even feel the blood pumping through the veins decorating their shafts. Every pulse, every nudge felt like it would rip you in two.

When Fred’s tip finally pushed through the small opening, the squealed moan that left your lips was enough for George to press his hand to your lips to muffle any sound. As much as they loved the noises you were making, they couldn’t get suspended so close to graduating. There would always be other occasions to hear your pretty moans.

The sight was one to behold. The twins wished they could photograph your pussy stuffed with both of their cocks and frame it, only to watch the replay over and over.

An obscene squelching filled the room as they repeatedly stuffed their cocks into you. The stretch brings you closer to the edge than ever before. Your walls clenched, trying to both push their cocks out and pull them deeper. It didn't take long before you were cumming, clenching around them in a desperate need to be full of their cum.

George's hand stayed over your mouth, his lips whispering sweet praises in your ear. Fred lips were pressed against your forehead, giving chaste kisses here and there. Their groans echoed throughout the room when they felt you cum around them. You felt too good to be true. It took them 3 months to make that ink.

It was worth every single minute.

A mix of their cum flooded your insides, but there was so much that it started spilling out. But they didn't pull out just yet. With how much effort went into getting you between them, they were gonna make this last for as long as possible. It was only after they came down from their high that they noticed just how much of a mess you all made. Cum spots stained your skirt and their trousers. Fred’s chuckle caught your attention.

“Maybe we should clean you up for real this time”

[agreeewrites]

Best Friends Brother ⊹ . + °

feat. Charlie Weasley x fem!reader

summary: You are Fred & George’s best friend, and meet their mysterious older brother, Charlie, at a product launch at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.

cw: MDNI 18+ smut with basically zero plot. charlie has an absolutely filthy mouth. no war (or light war? idk, everyone is alive)

an: this was supposed to be a casual hook up when I initially planned it, but the dick was so good they fell in love ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

part two | masterlist

+ ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . +

Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes had a line around the building, hopeful witches and wizards desperate to get a glimpse of the Weasley twin’s newest product. You strolled past them in your mini dress and tights, more than a little chuffed by their jealous glares.

The doors were locked, blocked off with enchanted rope, but when Fred spotted you through the window, he ran to unlock the doors.

“Y/n! I’m so glad you could make it. Georgie, looks who’s here!” Fred slung an arm over your shoulders and ushered you into the store. It was the cleanest you’d ever seen it, with streamers and lights strung everywhere, and a long table loaded with food and drink.

“Y/n!” George shouted, popping up from behind the register. Both of them were dressed in freshly pressed brown suits, looking exceptionally dapper. He came aroud the counter and pulled you into a hug. “Thanks for coming out.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” you grinned up at them, pride filling your chest. You’d been close with the twins for years, a friendship that started in school and only grew in adulthood, since you worked a few doors down at Honeydukes.

“Come, you have to meet our family!” They ushered you upstairs, where a dozen or so people waited, several faces were familiar, some were not.

“You remember Harry, Ron, and Ginny,” George said, and you greeted them all with a wave.

“And our parents, Molly and Arthur,” Fred continued.

“Oh, y/n! How lovely to see you!” Molly cooed, pulling you into a rib-cracking hug. “My, what a beautiful young lady you’ve grown into.” She pinched you cheek, and heat scorched your face.

“And this is our older brother’s Percy, Charlie, and Bill. And Bill’s wife, Fleur.”

You turned to the trio of men hovering by the bookcases, and nearly tripped over your heels. Percy, you remembered from school, Fleur as well, and Bill was too busy gazing down at her blonde head to glance your way. But Charlie. He stared straight through you, his dark eyes swallowing you whole.

“Pleasure,” Charlie said, his voice honeyed and deep. He was shorter that Percy beside him, but muscular enough that the maroon blazer he wore seemed a little stretched at the shoulders. His white button down shirt beneath it was tailored perfectly to fit across his wide chest and taper at his defined waist. Freckles kissed his cheeks and forehead, his skin a shade tanner than his siblings, though he shared their ginger hair, mid-length and wavy.

“Hello,” you managed, giving him a small smile. But before you could engage further, George whisked you away.

“It’s tiiiime!” Fred shouted, waving his wand, and the doors burst open.

+ ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . +

As the event raged on, you found yourself drawn to Charlie’s orbit, watching as he mingled with guests and chatted with his family. He seemed to draw a lot of attention, what with his rugged good looks and the fact that he was a dragon trainer. It seemed everyone wanted a sliver of Charlie Weasley’s attention.

So you admired him from a far, and tried to help Fred and George as best you could.

You chatted with customers, explaining the new product the best you could, but you kept feeling the tug of someone’s attention at the nape of your neck, distracting you. When the customer finally moved on, you glanced towards the direction of the feeling, and caught Charlie watching you over the rim of his fire whiskey, ignoring the gentleman attempting to talk to him entirely.

The air froze in your lungs, you heart tripping over itself. His gaze was scorching, and if looks could burn…you were certain your clothes would be rendered to ash.

Desire pooled in your lower belly, heating your blood to an uncomfortable degree. Your heart was pounding so loudly in your ears, you missed George approach.

“Hey, y/n, enjoying yourself?” He asked, offering you a glass of champagne with a candy snitch floating in it.

You accepted with a smile. “I am, thank you. You guys have done an incredible job.”

George beamed, clinking your glasses together before loping off to sell to another customer.

“So, how long have you known my brothers?” A low voice murmured in your ear, and you whirled around, nearly spilling champagne all over Charlie’s front. He caught your elbow with a steady hand, his grip firm but gentle. “Easy, love,” he said, the corner of his mouth lifting.

“Oh, uh, f-five years? I think,” you stuttered, looking anywhere but his smoldering eyes.

“Then how have we never met? I’d certainly remember you.”

You shrugged a shoulder, taking what you hoped was a casual sip of wine. “Seems you haven’t been paying much attention,” you teased, finally meeting his eyes.

His smirk grew into a soft smile. “What a grave error on my part.”

“Are you in town for the event, or…?” You could feel heat climbing up your neck, but you willed yourself to keep a level head. You knew how to flirt, had done so with plenty of blokes in your time, but none as handsome and disarming as Charlie.

“I thought so, but evidently the Gods had other ideas.”

You knees nearly buckled. “Like?” You coyly tilted your head, allowing your eyes to trail across his broad shoulders, down his chest. Was this guy seriously flirting with you? You knew you weren’t unattractive, but Charlie was…phew.

“Like…” He flushed a little, betraying his suave demeanor, and your heart slipped a little further into his hands. “Meeting the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

“Ever?” You teased, pulling your lower lip between your teeth.

“In this life and probably the next.” He took a sip of his whiskey, letting his eyes wander over you the same way yours did him. And based on the way they darkened, his pupils widening just a fraction, he liked what he saw as much as you did.

“Does that line always work for you?”

“Well, considering I’ve never tried it, why don’t you tell me?”

+ ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . +

Charlie slammed the door shut behind you before crowding you against it, his lips colliding with yours. He tasted like whiskey and pumpkin, with a tinge of cigarette smoke that went straight to your head, and you eagerly tangled your tongue with his, pushing his blazer off his shoulders.

“Colloportus,” he murmured against your mouth, and you heard the lock schick into place. He shrugged his blazer off, tossing it somewhere in the dark storage closet, and his hands were on you again, one sliding into your hair, the other on your lower back, drawing you closer.

“Charlie?” You gasped as his lips traveled down your neck, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses along your skin, his short beard a rough contrast to the suppleness of his kiss.

“Yeah, honey?” he panted, lifting his head to meet your eyes.

“I don’t usually…” you trailed off, nerves suddenly closing your throat.

His hand slid from your hair to cup your cheek, his callouses rough against your heated skin. “Me neither,” he murmured, resting his forehead against yours. “We can do whatever you want, love. I’ll take you to the nicest restaurant in London, or on Dragon-back to the Swiss Alps, or on a cruise ship to the Americas—”

You cut him off with a kiss, throwing your arms around his neck. “And if I want you to fuck me?” you said between pecks, tugging at the roots of his hair.

He smiled and scooped you up by the meat of your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist so your skirt pushed up over your hips. “Then I’ll fuck you as often as ya’ like.” He turned and dropped you onto some kind of work bench, sending the papers and junk flying with a sweep of his arm.

“The twin’s are going to be pissed,” you giggled, leaning back onto the wood so he could continue his previous assault on your neck.

“Fuck ‘em,” he muttered, nipping at your collarbones. His hands gripped your thighs with dizzying strength, the same hands that handled massive, fire-breathing beasts, and spread you open for his hungry gaze. “Seven fucking hells,” he breathed, running his hands down your inner thighs. “You’re perfect.”

In a swift motion, he ripped your tights at the seam, the sound sending a pulse of arousal to your already dripping pussy, a sharp gasp forcing it’s way from your throat. His fingers glided over your wet panties, so delicate compared to the force he’d used heartbeat before.

Your hips lifted slightly, chasing his gentle touch. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been this desperate for someone to touch you, your entire body tuned to his every breath, every twitch of his muscles. He looked so fucking good leaning over you, his previously tidy shirt rumpled, his hair in copper waves around his face, his lips a little red from your fevered kisses.

With his ring finger, her drew your panties to the side, his middle fingers gliding through your slit and circling your clit twice. “Already so wet for me, honey. What did I do to deserve such a warm welcome?” he purred, leaning down to press a sweet kiss to your forehead.

Your brain couldn’t formulate a response, his touch mind-numbing. Pleasure radiated form his fingers, syrupy and languid, with none of the frenetic energy from before. A moan slipped past your lips, your eyes fluttering closed as he coaxed your pussy to bloom for him.

“And such pretty sounds.” He rolled up his shirt sleeve with his free hand, exposing the muscles and veins along his thick forearm. Slowly, he slipped his middle finger inside of you, large enough to stretch you slightly.

“Fuck, Charlie,” you whined, raising yourself onto your elbows so you could watch him play with you.

“I suppose I shouldn’t stretch this out too long, someone might come looking for us,” he mused. “But I could spend a fucking eternity spoiling this greedy little pussy.” He slipped another finger into you channel, pumping them a few times just to feel your cunt suck him back in. “Would you like that, love?” He tilted your chin up with his free hand, an unspoken request for an answer.

“Y-yes, Charlie. Please,” you panted, stretching up to steal a quick peck. He deepened the kiss, shifting his weight to press you back down onto the desk as his tongue flirted with yours. His hand picked up the pace, fucking you steadily as he devoured your mouth, teeth skating along your swollen flesh before sucking lightly on your tongue.

You don’t know what God blessed him with such a skilled tongue, but you needed to make an offering in thanks stat.

But since you couldn’t do that…

“Charlie?” You asked, reaching around to touch his wrist between your legs.

He immediately stopped, withdrawing his hand completely. “What’s wrong?” He searched your face for signs of discomfort, his brows drawn together.

You pressed a kiss to his bearded cheek before sliding off the desk. He watched you, confused and concerned, then you lowered yourself to your knees and his jaw went slack.

“Honey, you don’t have to—”

“Please, Charlie?” You batted your lashes up at him, tugging lightly on his belt.

“Merlin’s fucking—I can’t say no to you when you look at me like that, sweetheart.”

“Then don’t,” you teased, undoing his belt and zipper. You could see the outline of his cock against his black boxers, thick and throbbing as you glided your fingers over it.

He sucked in a breath, gripping the edge of the table with one of his hands. Encouraged, you dragged the flat of your tongue over the fabric, feeling the heat of him, the wetness collecting by the swollen head.

“I must have died in the dragon pit and gone to heaven. My god, woman,” he rasped, running his fingers through his hair to keep it from blocking the sight.

You giggled, licking a few more stripes before reaching up to free him. His cock sprung out, veiny and flushed pink. And, to your absolute shock and delight, even his cock was freckled.

“You have the prettiest cock I’ve ever seen,” you praised, and his cheeks flushed pink. You laved your tongue along the thickest vein, earning a throaty groan. You sucked the head into your mouth, lapping up the precum pearling from his slit.

Charlie’s head fell back, one of his hands sliding into your hair. He didn’t add any pressure, just held you as you started to suck him, moving a little further down each time. You wrapped your hand around the base, there was no way you’d fit the entire thing in your mouth, and started pumping him, matching the motions with your mouth. His skin was like velvet, soft and smooth, and you loved feeling him pulse against your tongue with every dip of your head.

“You are too damn good at that. So fucking pretty swallowing my cock.” His thumb stroked your cheek while he gazed down at you, stars in his eyes. “You like sucking me off, honey?”

You nodded as best you could, flicking your tongue at the groove just beneath the head. His hips lurched forward, a grunt escaping through his teeth.

“Fuck, sorry, love. I’m trying to stay still for ya’, but feels so fucking good.”

You reached up and guided his hand into your hair, then used it to push your head down, giving him the best puppy dog eyes you could muster.

He smirked, his hand fisting in your hair. “Whatever you say, gorgeous.” He started moving your head along his shaft, rocking his hips in time with the movements. He went easy at first, but as drool began to track down your chin, your eyes rolling back in bliss, he picked up the pace. But he only fucked your mouth for a few, punishing strokes before lifting you off of him. He slammed his mouth to yours, a harsh, hungry kiss that had you seeing stars.

You whined in protest, but he shushed you by lifting you into the air and setting you on the table once more.

“If you thought I wasn’t going to fuck you, you’re mad,” he gruffed, dragging the hot head of his cock through your pussy lips. “That is, if you still want me to?”

“Yes, fuck, now, Charlie. Please.” You spread your legs a little wider for him,

“Anything for you, love.” He leaned down and kissed you again, sliding his cock into your depths at the same time. The feeling of being filled by him bordered on divine, silken and hot. He was stretching you just enough to leave you with that delicious ache between your legs. You moaned into each other’s mouths, the sounds caught up by his tongue parting your lips and caressing yours.

He drew his hips back, agonizingly slow, letting you feel every inch of one another, before he slammed back in, knocking the air from your lungs. It seemed he was at the end of his control, his grip on your hips bruising as he fucked you hard, jostling the desk beneath you and making the shelves along the walls rock.

“Fuck, Charlie. Feels so good,” you cried, trying and failing to keep yourself quiet as he railed you, every thrust like a lightning strike of pleasure through your body.

“Yeah? You take my cock so well, baby. Wet little pussy squeezing the life outta’ me,” he groaned, his hair tickling your face. “So good f’me, honey. Like you were made for me.”

Your muscles tightened, veering closer and closer to your peak, his praise sending little pulses of bliss your clit.

“You like being praised, baby? Hearing how perfect you are for me? Fuck, I can feel how much you like that, squeezing me so hard.” His hand slipped between you, the rough pads of his fingers rubbing tight circles over you puffy clit. “Come for me, y/n. I know you can. I want to feel you fall apart around me. That’s a good girl—”

Your cry drowned out his praise as your peak crashed over you, visceral and exquisite. The world vanished, blown apart by the burst of starlight in your chest as you came for him. Pulses of pleasure made your body shake and buck, your eyes squeezing shut as he fucked you through it.

“That’s it, honey. Such a good fucking girl. Merlin, you’re gonna make me come.” He rested on his forearms, braced on either side of your head, hitting an entirely new angle as you came back into your body.

“Charlie,” you whimpered, clinging to him. ”I’ve got ya’, love. Don’t worry. Just a little longer—fuck.” A strangled groan broke from his throat and you felt his cock swell, then kick against your walls, the first hot stream of release painting your insides.

He rested his head on your shoulder as he muscles trembled, his hips pressed flush to yours. You wrapped you arms around his shoulders, still weak from that soul-shaking orgasm. His lips passed over your shoulder, your clavicle, up your neck, before finally ghosting of your lips, soft and breathless.

You remained like that for longer than you probably should have, enraptured with one another. You'd been complete strangers a few hours ago, but this wasn't a hook up akin to a one night stand. This was the reunification of two beings, the re-raveling of a soul tie.

“Y/n,” he murmured, kissing your forehead, your temple. “Y/n, y/n, y/n…” He held you like he'd die if he let go.

“Charlie,” you exhaled, nuzzling behind his ear.

“Can I take you to Romania with me?” He whispered, a joke, you presumed, but there was no humor in his voice.

“I've never seen a dragon before—”

The door knob jiggled, and someone pressed against it, the wood groaning.

“Shit.” Charlie jumped backwards, scrambling to right your dress and smooth your hair.

“Hey, Freddie! This doors locked for some reason.”

“Charlie, your dick,” you snickered while he wiped away a smudge of your lipstick.

“Fuck, right.”

“Alohamor—”

“COLLOPORTUS,” Charlie barked out, snatching his wand from his boot.

“Charlie?” George called, knocking on the door.

Charlie tucked you behind him and undid the spell, peeking the door open. “If you say another word, you're dragon food,” he growled, and you had to clap a hand over your mouth to keep from laughing.

“You got a girl in there, mate?” George asked, and you could hear the shit-eating grin on his face.

“George,” Charlie warned.

“Fine, fine. You've got ten minutes before I actually need to get in there.” George knocked once more then strode away, his footsteps disappearing down the hall.

Charlie sagged against the door, exhaling. “I'm sorry, love,” he said, turning to you.

You pecked his cheek. “Don't be sorry, that was the best lay of my life.” You tried to reassure him, despite the curdling sadness in your chest.

A shy smile broke through his serious expression. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “I can only imagine how good it would be when we had all the time in the world,” you murmured against his ear, a shiver rolling down his spine. It was better to leave it like this, flirty, casual, than with whatever…that was.

“I mean, we’ve got ten minutes…”

You patted his chest and slipped out of the door, finding George waiting at the end of the hall, arms crossed.

His jaw dropped. “Y/n!”

Charlie ran out behind you. “I swear to God, George—”

“Are all Weasley's this dramatic?” You closed George's mouth with a finger under his chin.

“Where did—when did—how?” George stuttered, looking back and forth between the two of you.

Charlie smirked, shrugging back on his blazer. “I'll explain when you're older,” Charlie teased. “Would you like a drink, y/n?”

“I'd love one.“ You threaded your arm through his, and together returned to the party.

> Part Two

+ ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . +

Thanks for reading!

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Allie

[cherrixpie]

HOW NOT TO DATE A SLYTHERIN

part three of five

↬ being harry potter's sister wouldn't make dating theodore nott any easier - which was why you tried to hide it. only, theo was starting to get reckless with your secret.

↬ sfw; angst + hurt/comfort; wc: 3.0k; cw: none; secret relationship trope, potter!reader, griffindor! reader

thank you for all the supportive comments! wait for part four for the big showdown...

( masterlist )

The streets of Hogsmeade were blanketed in a soft layer of snow, the air filled with the mingling scents of spiced cider and chocolate wafting from the shops. You tugged your scarf tighter against the biting wind, walking beside Harry while Ron and Hermoine trailed just behind, arguing about the practicality of enchanted earmuffs. The (way too) early christmas decorations hung from every storefront, casting warm, golden light onto the snow-covered cobblestones, and the faint sounds of caroling witches and wizards drifted down from somewhere near the Three Broomsticks.

“Can we stop at Honeydukes before we head back?” Ron asked, cutting off a string of heated reasons for her argument by Hermoine who glared at him darkly. “Honestly, Ron, that is your biggest concern? Buying chocolate frogs?”

Sharing a glance, both you and Harry rolled your eyes at their bickering. You chose to defend Ron, partly because if he hadn't proposed the trip to Honeydukes, you’d have. “It’s a valid concern. Not everyone can survive on determination and revision schedules, Hermione.”

The only response you received was a long sigh, audible even over the whistling wind. When a particularly strong squall almost knocked him against a house front, Harry cursed, glowering at the restless sky. “If the weather stays the same ‘til tomorrow's game, we’ll be knocked off our brooms before we can make Malfoy lose.”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes at him. “Don't you mean, before we can win? Honestly, Harry, I think you’re approaching this very unproductively.” Ruffling a hand through his unruly hair, you smiled at his grim huff. “On the other hand, if petty hostility makes you fly better-”

“You’ve done this a lot lately,” Ron cut you off, earning another pissed look by Hermoine. “Defending them snakes.”

You had? Not that you had noticed, but yes, you may have subconsciously been a little defensive when your friends had badmouthed the Slytherins, seeing as you were dating one of the most sensitive and thoughtful people you knew, who happened to also be a Slytherin. “I am merely advocating for proportionality,” you mumbled, but your voice was picked up by a gust of wind, carried to the wrong ears.

You heard them before you saw them- a drawled out voice from behind, having the four of you turn on your heels. “Advocating for proportionality, are you, Potter? How very noble. I’m sure the world is thrilled to hear another Potter lecture.” A large group of Slytherins had been approaching from behind, unnoticed by all of you. Though shielded by green-bronze scarfs, you could make out the faces of your Slytherin classmates, as well as some sixth years. Flickering over the group, your eyes found Theo's and they locked in silent understanding. If you weren't mistaken, he gave you a little wink, but that might just as well have been a product of your imagination.

“That's rich,” Harry snarled back, ignoring your tugging at his robes to keep going. “Coming from you, Malfoy, who loves to hear himself talk so much he gets himself friends as silent listeners that applaud everything he says!”

Sensing an approaching conflict, you quickly counted the heads of the Slytherin group- you were looking at a four to ten ratio.

Red shot up into Malfoy’s cheeks and you caught a movement of his hand, sliding towards his wand. “Better be careful talking like that, Potter, didn't your parents ever reach you not to pick fights when you’re outmatched? Oh, wait,” he laughed gloatingly and you buried your hands in your brother’s robe in a preventive manner. “Guess they didn't have the chance before they were blown to bits!”

But your warning glare didn't only fix Harry, you had caught a dangerous look in Theo’s eyes as well. As if he had felt his eyes on you, he returned your gaze and his expression softened slightly. You breathed a sigh of relief. Crisis averted.

“LISTEN HERE, YOU TWAT!” Ron bellowed from next to you, shaking his clenched fists. Both you and Hermoine shot forward to hold him back, but you made the fatal mistake of letting go of your livid brother, who barged at Malfoy, not even bothering to pull out his wand. His fist collided with his face the moment Ron followed hot on his heels, tackling a surprised Zabini.

“Merlin,” Hermoine muttered and pulled out her wand. Neither of you got to join in the brawl, though, because a very exasperated Theo had strode forward, separated Blaise and Ron and jinxed both Drace and Harry in one move, making both of them jump back and stumble. Some of his friends groaned at him, deprived of the easy victory, but his infamous death glare brought upon them silence in an instant.

Before they could cause any more trouble, you ushered Ron and Harry back on their feet with Hermoine's help, hastily steering them away from the group.

“Hey, Potter!”

Both you and Harry turned around, but the Slytherin sixth year that had spoken was looking at you. “Spare us the moral superiority in the future. You’re as self-absorbed as your little Gryffindor gang. The way you talk, it’s no wonder you don’t have many friends outside Gryffindor. Who could stand you?”

Ouch.

The hurt must have been visible in your features for a second, because his friends howled and patted his shoulder in appreciation. Harry tensed under your grip, but you tightened it and pulled him along as you walked away, Hermoine and Ron hot on your heels.

The whistles and cackles of the group followed you all the way to Honeydukes. Neither of you spoke, Harry seemed to be fuming and you didn't dare say anything to set him off.

“Are you even listening to me?”

You weren't, and you looked at Hermoine apologetically. Instead of listening to whatever your friend had to say, your gaze had gotten lost somewhere at the Slytherin table. Particularly fixed on the dark haired boy in between Riddle and Malfoy, with the face of a brooding storm. Even from the far end of the great hall, you knew the expression as not simply his moodiness but simmering anger, meticulously controlled.

“I’m sorry,” you said sincerely and fixed your attention on Hermoine. “What were you saying?”

Sighing, Hermoine flipped open the evening edition of the daily prophet. Some snowflakes were still caught up in her hair, relics of your visit to Hogsmeade. “You’re awfully distracted. Is it because of what that idiot Langley said?”

“Who?” you asked, even though you knew exactly who she meant. His comment had hurt you, but it was nothing you wouldn't get over. No, what held your attention in a vice-like grip that felt oh so gentle was your dear secret boyfriend who, at this exact moment, rose from his seat at the Slytherin table, undoubtedly going for a smoke to the astronomy tower.

Hermoine passed your question over, opting to pretend to read the newspaper as you could feel her careful eyes on you. “He’s in the hospital wing, you know? Langley, I mean.”

“Did he choke on his spite?” You asked absentmindedly, swirling your fork through your soup as your eyes followed Theo leaving the Great Hall. The elegance of his long strides, his upright posture, the bounce of his dark curls. It was probably as good a time as ever to realize that you were utterly and irreversibly in love with that man.

“He got hexed, nobody knows by whom. But they contemplated sending him to St. Mungos, seems like he was hexed within an inch of his life,” Hermoine explained and a realization dawned on you. An image flashed before your waking eye- Theo's expression when you had shoved Harry away. You did believe him capable of hexing Langley into St. Mungos. But you also believed him capable of a high level of intelligence that was missing from this situation.

“Was he?” you asked in a neutral voice and Hermoine nodded, no longer pretending to be interested in the newspaper. “Rumor has it that Nott hexed him, but no eye witnesses have confirmed it to the teachers. Too scared of him and his friends, probably.”

You gave up on your fruitless attempts to transport the soup to your mouth. Abruptly, you stood up and shouldered your bag with a little more force than necessary. “I think I’m going to head to the astronomy tower, I still need to finish some star charts for Professor Sinistra.”

The heavy wooden door of the astronomy tower slammed open when you marched through forcefully, the sound echoing through the chilly, starlit space. Theo didn't flinch as you slammed your bag onto the ground. He was, of course, already there, leaning against the stone wall, cigarette perched between his fingers, the ember glowing faintly in the dark. It illuminated his face that was calm, almost indifferent. But the sharp line of his jaw gave him away. He’d been waiting for this.

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” you snapped, marching toward him with a heaving chest, partly from your run up the stairs, partly of fury. “What were you thinking, hexing Langley in broad daylight, in front of half the school if you can believe the rumors? Are you trying to get us caught?”

Theo exhaled slowly, smoke curling around his face like a shield. “You’re welcome, by the way,” he said, voice low and infuriatingly composed. “That guy deserved worse for what he said to you.”

You’d be lying if his dangerous dark eyes and the gravely tone of his voice didn't do something for you, paired with the fact that he had sent someone to the Hospital wing for you. But that wasn't the point right now. “You were reckless, Theo. What will your friends think? That you just snapped on a whim and decided to hospitalize the guy you hung out with?”

“They’ll trust that I have my reasons,” Theo said smoothly, making not attempts to step closer to your heaving form or meet your eye.

“And what if they believe that reason is me?” you challenged him. When he looked up, your eyes locked and the intensity of his gaze knocked the breath right out of your lungs.

“Then they do,” he simply said, making you gasp in protest. With a flick of his wrist, golden embers rained from his cigarette. “It would not be the end of the world. You wouldn't care, would you?” His gaze grew sharper and you felt utterly disarmed. “You only care that your brother and your Griffindor friends don't find out you’re dating a Slytherin.”

“I know where you’re going with this,” you pressed through pursed lips. “And it's not fair. If you were ready to admit to everyone you’re seeing the Chosen One’s sister, you’d already have.”

The force with which Theo stepped forward caught you off guard. Stopping in front of you, he leaned down and a cloud of smoke pulled you in. “I’ll do it,” he whispered to you, watching your reaction closely. “I’ll go right now and shout it from the fucking rooftops.” Crooking his head, he took a step back. “But you wouldn't want that, would you?”

You didn't answer, because you knew he was right. It was you who was trying to keep this relationship quiet, but it wasn't like you didn't have your reasons. One of them being how your friends would react, sure, but since Theo’s father was a death eater, the Order could see you as a liability as well.

Theo called your name and as if on command, you looked up at him. The cigarette lay glowing on the floor, he hadn't even bothered to smother the embers with his boot. “Are you ashamed of me?” There was a guarded vulnerability in his voice. So rare that you could do nothing but stare at him for a few seconds. Theo waited patiently, but he watched every little change of expression.

“I’m not,” you finally managed to say after you found your voice. You took a pleading step towards him, but he took one back as if on chance. “Are you sure?” he asked and a hint of bitterness laced his composed voice. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re fine with me being your dirty little secret.”

“You’re- you’re not-,” you stammered, your insides were squeezing painfully with the look he gave you. “Theo, you have to understand my situation here! I mean, you didn't even attempt to! You don’t understand what it’s like, Theo. I can’t just… parade this around. Harry, Ron, Hermione-they’d never let it go. And don’t get me started on the rest of Gryffindor!”

A humorless laugh escaped his throat. “You’re an idiot.” Flinching at his tone, you took a step back, but he stalked towards you predatorily. “Do you think you’re the only one who is under pressure here? Last time I checked, the people you answer to aren't ruthless murderers.”

He was right, you knew he was right. But there was a small, defiant part of you that just didn't want to accept it. “Just because you’re ready to tell them doesn't mean I am. They all see me as this perfect girl. I don’t get to make mistakes.”

This goddamn raised eyebrow that managed to stun anyone to silence appeared on his beautiful face. “And I’m the mistake, is that it? Great to know where I stand, Potter.”

“I didn't say that!” you protested, running your hands through your hair in frustration. Theo smiled bitterly. “You didn’t have to. You’d rather keep this quiet, pretend it’s not happening, because being with me doesn’t fit your perfect Gryffindor image.”

Anger started to bubble up in your chest once more and you clenched your fists, infuriated by his seemingly indifferent calm. “You think this is easy for me? Sneaking around, lying to my friends? If they found out about us, they’d never trust me again!” Your breath got caught in your throat as your voice grew quiet. “You don’t get it, Theo. I can’t afford to mess this up. People expect me to be perfect, and being with you… it’s not the safe choice. But it’s my choice, okay? Doesn’t that mean something?”

With an abrupt turn, Theo walked towards the railing and turned his back to you. A ruffle, a click, a soft golden glow and finally, a cloud of smoke rising from his figure as if he was burning from the inside. His voice was so hushed you had trouble understanding it, drawing closer but still keeping your distance. “You know, for someone so stubborn, you’re really bad at fighting with me.”

“That’s because I don’t want to fight with you.” you said imploringly, taking tentative steps toward him. Though he most certainly noticed even the most quiet of sounds, he didn't turn around. A long sigh left Theo’s lips and a large puff of smoke rose up to the stars. “Neither do I.”

“I’m sorry, okay?” you asked, fiddling with your fingers. “I know I’m not handling this the way you deserve.”

Finally, Theo turned around to you and you were taken aback by the sudden vulnerability in his expression. Theo’s features were often closed off, hard to read, unmovable. But now, his eyes were heavy with emotion- a mix of regret and sadness, though a light smile played along his lips. “I’m not asking for perfect. I’m just asking for you to … trust me.”

You closed the distance between you and Theo exhaled the last puff of smoke into the chilly night air before he stepped on his cigarette. His arms reached for you and you almost threw yourself into them. You hated fighting. Once around you, his hold tightened and you felt your face pressed up against his warm chest. The tremble of an exhale left your lips as you closed your eyes and relaxed in his hold. “I do, Theo. I wouldn't be here if I didn't. I wouldn’t be doing this- any of this- if I didn’t think you were worth it.”

You only got a soft rumble of his chest in response. His smell surrounded you, clouded you, and you thought to yourself you might get addicted to cigarettes if he kept smelling like them. “This might be a bad time for stuff like that, but… I've never felt like this about anyone.”

When you lifted your head from his chest, you found him already looking at you. And you had to appreciate how he must have turned down every wall he had so carefully constructed around himself to look at you with such a raw expression. “Me neither,” he almost breathed, locking your fingers. He shook his head disapprovingly. “Tesoro, your hands are ice bricks.”

“Why don't you kiss them better, then?” you asked hopefully, relieved to see a smile appear on his face. Theo brought your locked hands up to his lips and pressed slow, gentle kisses to the back of your hand. The soft tingle that followed his touch warmed your whole body.

“We’re going to have to actually talk about this, you know.” he said and you nodded slightly.

“I know. Just… not tonight.”

tag list: @annaisabookworm @empath-bunny @k0z3me @slutfordpr @aespaslut @kiarst @the-oracle-at-delphinitely-not @fakem0net @sammyreid @tulipsc @yasmin-oviedo @lazycrazyme

[mallowsweetmiri]

Black Bikini • FW x Reader

Part 2 • Strawberry Pie

Summary: You arrive at the burrow for summer break. Fred really likes your new bikini.

Word count: 5.5k

Warnings: swearing and smut

18+

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You sat out on the front porch basking in the early morning sun before the afternoon swelter settled in. It was yet another summer at the burrow, and you couldn’t wait to get into all sorts of trouble with your favorite Weasleys. You had known them since you were young, as your dad worked closely with Arthur at the ministry. Once you started at Hogwarts, you quickly became friends with the Weasley twins who were in your year. Ever since then, you often spent a good chunk of your summer at the burrow, playing quidditch or swimming in the lake during the day and staying up late playing chess at night. Just a few weeks ago, you had helped Gryffindor win the quidditch cup, so you knew the quidditch matches would be superb this summer.

“Morning, sunshine!” Fred cheered as he pushed through the front door, running past you and into the yard, George following quick on his heels.

“What are you two up to?” You yelled after them, squinting your eyes as they ran further away and towards the pond.

“YOU BLOODY WANKERS GET BACK HERE AND FIX THIS!”

You whipped your head around to see a very angry Ron standing on the front porch with a fist in the air like an angry old man. His pajamas were a violent shade of pink. You almost spit out your coffee.

“New look?” You choked out, making Ron frown and shake is head.

“You’re just as bad as them,” he grumbled before walking back inside.

You couldn’t help but laugh as you saw the twins walking back to the house with mud all over their hands.

“Its not even noon and you two have already started wreaking havoc, what have you gotten yourselves into now?” You raised a brow at them. As they approached closer, their bodies absolutely loomed over you on the steps. Two identical grins blocked the bright sun from your eyes.

“Just catching some bullfrogs while we waited for Ronnykins to leave the premises,” George grinned.

“That bloke is always angry, what could he possibly be mad about on such a fine day?” Fred inhaled sharply and let out a sigh of contentment as he threw his head back into the sun. A blush rose to your cheeks. You may or may not have begun developing the slightest crush on the older twin.

“Hmm, I wonder. Well, what are we going to do today? I bet Gin would be up for a game, I don’t know if Ron will want to play with you two though,” you chuckled, standing up and brushing the dirt off the back of your shorts. The twins grinned at you.

“How about we go swimming at the lake? We could make a day out of it,” Fred suggested, leaning against the post of the railing.

“Hmm, yeah. We could pack some lunches and games, spend all day in the sun,” George said thoughtfully, pursing his lips to one side.

“Sounds like a plan, let’s go get Ginny up, and maybe you should fix Ronald’s clothes so he’s not in a foul mood all day,” you said, patting George on the shoulder before turning to head inside.

It was around noon by the time everybody got out of the house and started down the path to the lake. The walk wasn’t too long, but it was far enough where Ron could complain and Ginny could convince George to let her ride on his back. The sun beamed down on your backs, beads of sweat forming on your skin, sticky and hot. You guys were practically racing to the shore once you gained view of the water.

“The walk will be worth it!” Fred cheered as he raced ahead to the sand. He recklessly threw his bag onto the ground before pulling off his shirt, saving no time before diving straight into the water. It seemed you’d completely lost interest in walking as the rest of the Weasley children had already reached the shore ahead of you. You didn’t allow your mind to wander any further as you too started running down the hill of sand.

“Last one in is a rotten egg!” George shouted, already running into the water. You tore off your t-shirt and shorts, refusing to be the last one into the lake. Ginny had already dove under so it was just you and Ron left. You both began sprinting towards the water, but you laughed as you dove straight in, leaving Ron to be last. The twins left him no time to pout however, as they started to splash and fight with their brother. You and Ginny swam away from the chaos and floated on your backs, enjoying the contrast between the warm sun and the cool lake.

“I’m so glad you’re here again, Y/N,” Ginny said, shifting her position to talk to you better, “I love my brothers but it’s nice to have another girl around. Sometimes I feel like I’m too much like them. I don’t want to be a tomboy, I want to be pretty so boys like me.” She dunked her head back to wet her hair again. A soft smile rose to your face as you listened to her banter.

“Gin, don’t you think you’re a little young to be thinking about boys like that?” You couldn’t help but to laugh a little at her naivety.

“You sound like my brothers,” Ginny scrunched her nose at you.

“All I’m saying is you’re perfect just how you are. You’re smart and funny and anybody would be lucky to know you. Besides, you are nothing like your brothers, you know that,” you reassured her, pointing over her shoulder at her brothers who were currently trying to stick slimy plants onto each others foreheads. Ginny snorted.

“Okay, you have a point, but I just want to be pretty like you, Y/N. Will you teach me how to do my hair and makeup? Please?” Ginny pleaded, putting on her best puppy eyes. You rolled your eyes at her before returning to your smile.

“Gin, I don’t even know how to do all of that. I guess I can show you some stuff, but your too young. I didn’t even start doing any of that stuff until this year,” you huffed. You wished she would appreciate her developing years without worrying about such superficial things. Your words seemed to go in one ear and out the other as Ginny began to beam and splash around.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! And you’re definitely good at that kind of stuff, Y/N. I mean ever since you started looking all pretty, Fred won’t shut up about you! I’m going to be so popular this year,” Ginny continued on babbling about her upcoming year but you couldn’t seem to focus. Had she just said something about Fred?

“We’re going in to eat! Best to come unless you want us to eat your share,” Ron called as he trudged out of the water. You broke out of your thoughts and hoisted Ginny on your back to head towards the boys. By the time you set Ginny down, the picnic basket had been opened. You sat down on your towel and grabbed a sandwich.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Fred’s POV

I guess I hadn’t had time to look at her properly when we got down to the lake, because I hadn’t notice her wearing that tiny black bikini. Merlin, she looked so good this summer. I mean, she’d always been pretty but this was on a whole other level. Her normally cute face had turned into something of a more mature beauty. My eyes left her lips and scanned down a bit further. Her body, Merlin…

“Oi,” George laughed and nudged me. I whipped my head away to face him, being met with raised brows and a downturned smile.

“Mmm,” I grumbled, taking a huge bite of my sandwich. I was not just checking Y/N out. I’m just eating my sandwich. We ate in silence for a little while, hungry and tired from the sun.

“Welp, time for a little afternoon nap,” Y/N sighed, placing a hand on her full belly and lying down on her towel. As her back hit the sand, her chest bounced lightly, her skimpy top moving along with it. Okay, I was totally checking her out.

“I don’t know about you lot, but I’m getting back in the water, it’s far too hot out here,” I declared, standing up with a grunt and heading back into the water. If I didn’t know any better, it would seem that I may be slightly obsessed with my dear friend Y/N.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Your POV

Your eyes fluttered open, squinting from the glare of the sun.

“Finally you’re up! I was about to roll you over so you didn’t burn,” Ginny laughed, moving from her seat to look down on you.

“Mm, I’m up now,” you mumbled sleepily, “Shall we go in the water? I’m absolutely frying.” You slowly sat up. Your skin felt slightly tight from baking in the sun.

“I’ll race you!” Ginny chirped, standing up and running to the water. Merlin, that girl had energy. You jogged down to the water and dove under, your skin soothed by the fresh water. As you came back up, you felt something slimy slap against your face.

“Ho! He gotchu good!” George yowled, falling back into the water with a splash. You reached up to grab the slime off of your cheek with your mouth agape, frozen in a wry smile.

“Who did that,” you scoffed, look up at the boys to find your culprit. Fred stood there with his arms crossed over his chest, a satisfied smirk plastered onto his face.

“You.”

You flung the lake slime at him before charging towards him at an impressive speed through the water. As you approached him, you reached down into the water with a devious expression.

“Catch,” you said, lifting up a ginormous ball of slime that had been placed in front of you by what you could only imagine was the hand of god. You flung the mass towards him before he could dodge out of the way. He tried to put his hands up to catch it, but it was no match. The sludge had flown onto his scrunched up face and dripped down his flared out hands. You put your hand on your mouth to stifle your laugh.

“Bloody hell!” Ron hollered, laughing his ass off with George. Fred dunked under the water to get off the slime. When he emerged from the water, he ran his hands through his hair, throwing his head back. You watched as if he was moving in slow motion, the sun glistening on his wet skin as his muscles flexed with the movement of his arms.

“You are so dead.”

And with that he picked you up with ease over his head.

“No! Fred please!” You said between chokes of laughter, but it was no use. He threw you down into the water and splashed you when you came back up to the surface. When he finally stopped you could see his goofy smile form around his sun kissed freckles.

“I think you’ve learned your lesson,” he said, relaxing back into the water. You couldn’t stop giggling as you swam towards him.

“Sorry Freddie, I had to get you back,” you teased, laying back into the water. He rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. I was away from you for a few weeks and forgot how ruthless you are,” he grumbled, but you could tell he was in high spirits.

“Oh please, how could you forget? Im just happy to be back for the summer, we’re going to get into much more trouble than this,” you giggled. He chuckled at that.

“Oh, I hope so Y/N,” he charmed, standing back up from the water. You looked up at him staring down at you, water dripping down his abs. You found your eyes wondering and forced yourself to look back up to his face. He was smirking down at you. “What are you looking at Y/N?” You practically choked on lake water as you stood up next to him.

“You still have slime on you git,” you brushed him off and went back up to the sand. You heard him laugh behind you as your cheeks flushed a deep red. You really hoped he hadn’t just caught you staring…

The rest of the day was spent roasting in the sun, passing around a quaffle in the water, and eating what was left of the picnic basket. By the time the sun began to set, the five of you set back on the trail to the burrow. You stayed up front with Ginny and Ron as they quarreled about quidditch, Fred and George behind you. The walk back felt long and tiring, and by the time you had reached the burrow, the sun had almost fully set.

“Dinner is ready!” You heard Molly call from the porch. At that, the five of you filed into the house to change for dinner. In the kitchen, the windows were all open to allow the cool night air into the room. On the table sat an amazing dinner spread, the mark of a fantastic summer with the Weasleys. You sat down next to Ginny, and began to pile your plate with all of Mollys fixings.

“So Y/N, how was your school year dear? I barely had time to chat with you on the platform,” Molly smiled at you, helping herself to some green beans.

“Well, I did well on all of my owls, but the end of the year was mostly spent studying for those,” you frowned, not happy to recall the stress from your end of year exams.

“And you were absolutely wicked in the final quidditch match! Mum, you should’ve seen her. Truly, I think she scored at least 50 points,” Ron excitedly recounted the match, where Gryffindor beat Slytherin and won the quidditch cup.

“Yes, well, Woods was certainly happy with me after that game,” you laughed, earning an immature laugh from George a scowl from Fred. You rolled your eyes at the two.

“Well that’s just fantastic Y/N. Say, how’s your mother been?” Arthur asked. And so the dinner went on, a lively and wholesome evening ending in a warm cherry pie for dessert. As everybody stood to mark the end of dinner, you began to collect plates.

“Nonsense, Y/N, go on! Run along!” Molly took the plates from you and shooed you off.

“You heard the woman,” Fred said, grabbing your hand and dragging you out the front door. The sun had completely set, the sounds of summer surrounded you as you ran down the steps of the house.

“Where are we going,” you laughed, still following Fred as you held hands, George running alongside you.

“On a quick pit stop,” George grinned, running up towards the shed. Fred let go of your hand as he opened the door. You heard a few bottles clanking together and before you know it, Fred’s standing in front of you holding up two bottles of fire whisky next to his grinning face. George follows suit but is instead holding a crate of fireworks.

“Did you guys bring this back from Hogsmeade?” You questioned in a hushed voice, astonished that they had managed to sneak this much past their mother.

“Yep,” George grinned, nodded his head fervently. Fred grasped the necks of both bottles into one head and nonchalantly closed the shed door. His hands were so big and definitely strong from playing quidditch all these years… You shook your head. Merlin, couldn’t stop thinking of him like that for two minutes?

“Follow this way,” Fred nodded over to a hill a bit down the path to the lake. You began to follow the twins, having to walk two steps at a time to keep up with their lanky legs. The deep blue of the night sky basked over the hill as the three of you trudged over the peak and over to the other side. The twins plopped down onto the grass and opened the bottles of fire whisky.

“To summer,” George cheered with Fred, their bottles clanking against each other. They both took a swig before sticking the bottles out to you. You giggled, grabbing the bottle from Fred and raising it up.

“To summer,” you cheered, taking a hefty swig of the fire whisky. Fred laughed and shook his head at you.

“So, shall we light these puppies up?” George grinned, gesturing to the box of fireworks. You grinned back at him.

“We should wait a bit Georgie. Hopefully the hill will help block most of the light and sound, but it wouldn’t hurt to wait until they’re in bed,” Fred pointed out, George nodding his head. He turned to face you.

“Mums been on our case about all the pranking and stuff. She took away a bunch of our creations already, so it be better if she just… doesn’t know too much,” George whispered. You nodded, laying back onto your elbow. With your free arm, you took another swig of whisky.

“Understood.” You replied, passing the bottle back to Fred.

“How about a game of exploding snaps and shots?” Fred asked with a lazy grin, pulling a deck of cards out from his pant pockets. You grinned back at him.

“Wait,” George snapped up, “did you hear something?”

You and a Fred sat up and looked up at to top of the hill. Two little heads of ginger hair peaked over the side. They tried to duck down, but George had already reached them, pulling them up by the arms.

“Please George, can we stay?” You heard Ron plead as he was guided down the hill.

“Not tonight, Ron. And we gotta get Ginny up to bed,” George’s voice rang over the slope. You turned to face Fred with pursed lips.

“Well, wanna play?” You laughed, relaxing back on your elbow. He mirrored your movements.

“Yes darling,” Fred smiled at you, shuffling the cards in his hands. A light blush managed to creep into your face. He kept eye contact with you as he dealt the cards.

“You start,” you said. He laughed and tidied up his hand.

“So, what kind of trouble have you been up to the past few weeks?” He asked, placing a card down.

“Oh you know, a few muggle clubs with my cousin, but nothing else really,” you shrugged, taking your turn. He smirked at you.

“Oh, yeah? Y/N’s a party girl now? I guess I do remember you having quite a good time at the quidditch house cup afterparty,” He winked. You rolled your eyes but one of your cards snapped, causing you to jump. “Drink.”

You brought the bottle to you lips and took a swig. A drop of whisky hung off your bottom lip, and Fred’s eyes were quick to notice. You licked the bottom of your lip and smiled at him. His head fell to his shoulder as he returned a lopsided smile. Your blush crept deeper on your face as you tried to focus back to the game. You’d hung out with Fred plenty of times, granted George was usually there too, but something felt different. You couldn’t help but feel like he was watching you the same way you were watching him…

“Well, speaking of party girls, you certainly seemed to like Angelina at that party, hmm?” You raised a brow at him while picking up a card. He put a card down and chuckled, shaking his head.

“Angelina sure is something, but we’re just good friends. Besides, George already has a thing for her, and I have to admit, I have eyes for someone else,” He raised his brow and picked up another card. Was Fred seeing someone else? Surely you’d have heard about it, he is pretty popular after all.

“Oh?” You questioned, putting down a card and picking up another. Fred opened his mouth to speak but another card exploded in your palm, startling the both of you. You gasped and Fred chuckled while he passed you the bottle.

“Mm, I think she might like me too…” Fred trailed off, watching you as you put your lips to the bottle and swallowed yet another shot. Your face cringed a bit this time, liquor dripping onto your lips. Fred put down his cards and moved closer to you. Your breathing quickened as you look at his face. He was staring at your lips. Was he about to kiss you?

“Y/N… ” his eyes panned up to yours, the moonlight illuminating his freckled nose and softened expression. You breathed in quick, unsure of your voice.

“Are you about to kiss me?” You breathed out quietly, Fred nodded softly before drawing closer. You closed your eyes as his lips pressed carefully against yours. You couldn’t help but let out a small sigh, it felt like you were dreaming. He brought his palm up to your face and caressed you gently while deepening the kiss. He was a good kisser. He pulled away gently, now almost on top of you. You watched his chest rising and the flush on his cheeks. You could tell by his demeanor that he wanted more. And so did you. You grabbed the back of his neck and kissed him more harshly this time, your hunger for Fred growing stronger. It felt like all day you were just itching to have him close to you, and now that you had the chance, you weren’t going to mess it up.

“Y/N, let me take you somewhere,” Fred breathed out in between a kiss. You hummed into his mouth. This caused him to start kissing down your neck.

“Do you think this is a good idea, you know, you and me?” You sighed, your back arching slightly off the ground as his hands explored down your body. He stopped and looked up at you, his lips parted and hair disheveled.

“I think it’s a brilliant idea,” he smiled charmingly, standing up and holding out his hand. You smiled and took it, he was so strong he practically lifted you off the ground. You stepped close to him and put your arms around his neck.

“Okay, then take me wherever you want to go, Fred,” you said in a low voice, leaning up to kiss him again. He moaned into your lips.

“Follow me,” Fred wasted no time and began to lead you down to the bottom of the hill. You guys walked for a few minutes, up into the surrounding woods. Soon you reached a small platform in the trees. It resembled a treehouse but it was made of fabric.

“Here?” You raised a brow, turning around to Fred. He flashed his signature smile and put his hands on your waist.

“Just trust me, love,” he walked you backwards while giving you sweet and sensual kisses. Soon he turned you around and lifted you so you could climb up to the platform. He followed suit.

“Wow,” you gasped. The platform had clearly been enchanted, the inside of the tent being filled with comfortable sack chairs and carpets. Fred kissed your neck as he guided you to a seat.

“Bill helped us out when he was home for a bit, me and George were going to show it to you tomorrow,” he sat down next to you as you admired the club house. This summer was going to be so much fun.

“I’ll have to thank Bill when I see him,” you chuckled, grabbing the back of Fred’s neck and pulling him back into a kiss.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Fred’s POV

This day truly couldn’t have gotten better. Somehow, I was on top of Y/N, kissing her and feeling her little moans against my lips. It felt so good to have her under me, moaning because of me. I don’t know how long I’d been wanting this, but it sure as hell felt right. I slid my hand under her shirt and up her side, her back lifted up off the chair. Merlin, she wasn’t even wearing a bra under her sweatshirt. I felt my pants tighten, I’d never wanted anybody so bad.

“Fred,” she moaned, pulling at the hem of my shirt. I breathed out a laugh as I sat back to pull off my shirt. Her eyes were blown out as she watched me, she looked so sexy. I came back over her and set my forearm next to her head as I hovered over her body. My hand went down to the bottom of her sweatshirt and looked up to ask for permission. She nodded and I quickly removed the piece of clothing from her body. I sat back to take in the image of Y/N laying on her back in front of me. Her body was perfect, and her tits were tanned in the shape of that tiny fucking bikini top. I groaned hungrily as I bent down to take her nipple into my mouth. She gasped with pleasure as my hands explored her body, my lips attached to her sensitive skin. I just wanted to taste her, I wanted to kiss every inch of her body and show her how badly I’ve been wanting her.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N,” I whispered, kissing her neck softly, “so perfect. Do you know how fucking perfect you look right now?” She groaned as I sucked on her neck. We both knew it was a risk to leave mark on her, but neither of us cared. I began to leave a trail of gentle kisses down her body as my hands pulled down her cotton shorts.

“Fred,” she blushed, trying to close her thighs around my shoulder. I chuckled and kissed the inner part of her leg.

“Don’t be shy, Y/N. I want to taste you. Can I please? I promise it will be worth it,” I pleaded, linking my arms under her hips. She moaned at the action and quickly nodded her head, relaxing back into the chair. I slid off her shorts and panties, and linked my arms back under her hips. I’d never wanted to eat pussy so bad in my life. My mouth was salivating as I ran my tongue up her clit in one slick motion. She shuddered and locked her thighs around my head again. I used this time to bury my face in her, licking in soft circles around her bud. She began to grab my hair and gently fuck herself on my tongue. I felt like I was about to cum. Her face twisted up in pleasure which only made my pants tighter. She tasted so fucking good and all I wanted was to make her cum all over my mouth. I sped up my motions and she arched off the chair. Her full breasts bounced as she felt back down. I plunged my tongue into her hole and used my fingers to swipe circles around her clit.

“Merlin, Freddie,” she grunted, making a sound different from anything I’d heard out come out of her mouth before, “I’m- I’m going to-“ I locked my tongue on her clit as her thighs trembled around my head. She shuddered and moaned and released warm, sweet juices onto my tongue. I happily licked up every last drop.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Your POV

You gasped for air as Fred came back up to you, kissing up your stomach with shiny lips. He kissed you on the mouth before grinding down onto your leg. You could feel how hard he was. You moaned into the kiss and pushed your hips up against him. You knew what you wanted, and besides, your friendship was already far gone. You knew you wouldn’t be able to give up that mouth after you knew what it was capable.

“Freddie,” you purred, looking up at him with starry eyes, “do you want to know what I feel like?” He groaned and pushed down harder into your leg.

“Godric, yes, Y/N. But are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, kissing your cheek and pushing your hair behind your ear. You chuckled and smiled at him. Here the two of you were, doing something completely out of the ordinary, and yet Fred was still just Fred. Charming and caring and reckless.

“I’m sure,” you whispered, leaning up to kiss his cheek. He flushed and gave you his crooked smile before sitting up to take off his pants. You sat up to watch as his cock slapped up against his abdomen, the sight causing you to groan. He was big, and while you weren’t scared, he was definitely the biggest you’d ever taken. You sat onto your knees and looked up and him for permission, not that you needed any at this point. You looked down at you with a strained expression and place his hand on the back of your head. You leaned forward and took the tip into your mouth, looking up at him again before taking his full length down your throat. This earned you deep growl as he thrusted into your mouth even deeper. Once you had properly wet his dick, you laid back down onto the chair, spreading your legs and grabbing your tits, mostly so you had something to hold onto. He hovered over you and placed a kiss on your lips.

“Just tell me if you need to stop,” he tried to whisper, but it came out as more of a throaty groan. You nodded and placed your hands around his neck. He positioned himself in front of you before testing the tip of his hard cock in your pussy. With each inch getting added into you, you scraped your nails into his neck. He kissed up and down your neck to soothe you as he sat inside of you to let your pussy adjust to the size.

“I’m okay Freddie, you can fuck me now,” you whispered into his ear. With no delay, he dropped his head into the crook of your neck and groaned as he began to thrust in and out of you. He felt so good fucking you like this. Especially after he had just eaten you so good, your entire pussy was pulsing around him.

“Y/N,” Fred moaned, grabbing your hips and thrusting into you even harder, “you’re taking me so well. Just like that darling.” You moaned as you bounced from his thrusts. His hand moved to cover your clit with pressure. You were going to cum again, and so soon. How was Fred doing this to you?

“Freddie, you’re going to make me cum again,” you whined, you grabbed your tits again in a desperate attempt to hold onto to something steady.

“That’s alright, Y/N. I love making your perfect pussy come for me,” he grunted, lifting up your hips and thrusting even harder into your pussy. Your moans turned erratic as you felt yourself building up once again. You clenched around him one last time before your back lifted up, your pussy pulsating around his cock. His thrusts began to waver as he fell apart. You made sure to push yourself up towards him so he knew it was okay to cum inside of you. With one final thrust, Fred groaned as he released himself, your pussy getting filled with hot spurts of his seed. The two of you laid like that for a few minutes, catching your breath and recognizing the fact that you’d just fucked your family friend. Fred slid your panties back up your legs before leisurely putting on his own clothes.

“Freddie, we should probably get back. It’s going to be hard enough trying to pretend like this didn’t happen to George,” you noted, pulling your sweatshirt over you head.

“We don’t have to pretend, Y/N. At least not in front of George. He’s going to find out eventually,” Fred chuckled, placing a finger under your chin and kissing your lips softly. You weren’t sure if you’d ever get used to this. His stupidly soft lips made you dizzy every time.

“I guess that’s true… so does that mean you want to continue this?” You asked sheepishly, a blush rising to your face again as he gave you a smile.

“You’re daft if you think I’m not going to make you mine, Y/N,” he smirked. How many times was he going to make you blush tonight? You tried to play it off as the two of you descended from the fort and started off towards the hill again. In the distance, you could see George sitting up on the hill next to the fireworks. As you and Fred approached him, he stood up with a half empty bottle in his head.

“There you are! I figured you two went off to the treehouse…” he eyed the two of suspiciously, and it didn’t help that you had a permanent blush to your face.

“Sorry Georgie, Y/N wanted to check it out,” Fred said nonchalantly as he took a seat next to his brother. You followed suit and looked up to the sky as the two of them began to set off the fireworks. The sounds of summer made you feel at home, and the visions of two lanky red heads laughing chaotically as they lit off the fireworks made you smile. It sure was good to be back at the burrow.

[graynvmbr]

When the Sun Stood Still | Harry Potter

pairing: harry james potter x female!reader (no use of y/n)

summary: first kiss with harry

word count: 766

The soft morning sunlight fills your bedroom, casting a warm glow on everything as you and Harry finish cleaning up after the sleepover. Hermione and Ron are already downstairs, probably chatting with your parents and waiting to floo home. You linger in the bedroom with Harry, folding blankets and tucking away the last remnants of his stuff.

“Thanks for, um, helping out,” he says, brushing a bit of hair out of his face and looking at you a little sheepishly as he shoves the extra mattress to the side. You offer him a smile, nodding as you adjust the sheets on your bed, the sun streaming in through the window casting light and shadows over his face.

“Of course. I think that’s… everything.” Your words trail off as you glance up and find him staring at you, closer than you expected. The air between you seems to still, your heart thudding louder with each second. He’s looking at you with an intensity that makes it feel as if time has slowed down, and your mouth goes dry under his gaze.

In a quick, unexpected motion, Harry closes the distance between you, his eyes softening and then flickering with a kind of bold determination. He leans in, and his lips meet yours, gentle yet charged with a quiet, confident passion. You feel a flash of disbelief, but then the shock melts away, replaced by the warmth of his kiss. Your hands reach up to his shoulders as he moves up to your face, cupping it with a surprising gentleness. His lips press against yours in a way that feels both hesitant and sure all at once, as though he’s been waiting forever for this moment but couldn’t wait a second longer.

His mouth is warm, his breath soft against your skin, and you’re instantly enveloped by the familiar scent of him—treacle tart, warm wood and a touch of pine and cedar. You can feel his glasses brushing your cheek, grounding you in this surreal, dreamlike moment. There’s a heady silence around you, broken only by the faint sound of your breaths mingling.

The kiss is heated, filled with all the unspoken words and stolen glances that have passed between you both these past months. He pulls back only when he has to breathe, leaving you in a daze as you look up at him, feeling like the world has tilted off its axis.

You’re still catching your breath, watching him as he straightens and gives you a soft smile—a look that sends your heart racing all over again. He turns and heads toward the stairs, leaving you flustered and rooted in place. You think he’s going to say something, maybe a goodbye, but he just walks a couple of steps down, then pauses and glances back at you with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Owl me,” he says, his voice soft but smug. Before you can react, he steps back up, reaches out, and pulls you in for one more kiss—a bit bolder, his lips soft yet insistent as he tilts his head, savoring the moment. It’s a little more lingering this time, his confidence steady and clear, making your head spin even more.

When he finally pulls away, he gives you one last grin, that subtle smirk still tugging at his lips. After the kiss he spins on his heel, leaving you breathless and dumbfounded as he disappears down the stairs as if nothing at all has happened.

You stand there, blinking, replaying the entire exchange in your mind as you try to catch your breath. You can still feel the warm pressure of his lips on yours, the thrilling heat of his touch, and the playful confidence in that parting glance. The smirk, the way he looked at you right before the kiss—all of it loops in your mind, leaving you dazed and unable to move.

A small, disbelieving smile breaks over your face as you run a hand over your lips, trying to shake yourself from the daze. The kiss, his words, his look—all of it still feels too surreal. You realize you should head downstairs; Hermione and Ron are probably waiting, and Harry is surely acting casual, like he didn’t just turn your entire world upside down with a single, impulsive kiss.

But before you head down, you let out a soft laugh, your face flushed as you relive the moment. Harry Potter just kissed me, you think, your heart fluttering wildly at the memory of his lips on yours and that knowing look in his eyes.

back to my harry potter masterlist

[cherry-pop-elf]

Honey, I’m Home-!

Sirius Black x Mom! Reader

Ever since Sirius was sent to Azkaban, you were the one in charge of raising Harry. Doing your best, and lucky to have Remus to help. Because of that, a certain Rat wasn’t able to avoid any of your gazes. When Harry’s third year came to a end, you were given quite a surprise at the train station

Warnings 18+, P in V, Female Reader, high emotions, hurt comfort, fluffy and heated sex, getting back together, implied breeding kink, taking care of your man with baths food and you, sir this bed is about to be destroyed with how hard he’s going to rail you. Also, implied Wolfstar/ Remus x You/Poly situation deal up in here hehehehe

“Harry-!” You called, with a smile. Always there to pick him up from the station, every single time. As a good parent would. Ever since you found out he had such a risk to end up at the Dursleys, like hell you would let that happen. Made you pamper him a bit, given your good friends lost their lives for him. But like hell he didn’t deserve it.

“Shhh shh-!” Harry was soon hushing his friends, leaving you confused. Hermione and Ron quick to hush up, while Remus would set the last of the bags off the train. Wanting to help out, since there were so many Weasleys to worry about. The way he smiled, you were even more curious. You couldn’t recall the last time he looked so relieved. Was there a change in laws that permitted him to work at Hogwarts?

“Children, settle down. Settle down. Go on and show her the surprise.” He teases them, as he would help Molly with the rest of the Weasleys. He threw you a wink, which had you very confused. Not what did that Marauder have in mind this time?

“Mum…..Can we get a dog?” Harry asked you, as the trio stood next to each other. With cuts and bruises all over, but smiling. Even Ron seemed chipper, despite the fact he was in crutch. The hell did those three get into this time?

“A dog-? Harry….You know why we can’t get a dog.” You sighed, not wanting to have this discussion again. With out Sirius, you just couldn’t. Any dog was to painful of a reminder. Oh how you miss your padfoot. What you would give to see him again.

“Mum, please? He’s got no where else to go. Just look at him-“ Harry pleaded, as the trio stepped aside. The dog now exposed to you. Was so painfully skinny, yet also so furry at the same time. Matted fur, and just looking like a grim. He looked so much like Sirius, but so dead as well. Your heart just couldn’t say no this time.

The defeated sigh had them cheer, as Remus returned. Still giving you this coy smile, that had you furrow your brows. You felt like you were missing something, but you didn’t know what. You just knew that it was time to take everyone home.

With Harry hugging his friends goodbye, while this new dog stuck close to your legs, Remus would catch up quickly with Molly. Explaining something. You swore it was about Scabbers, but the new playmate was keeping your attention. Suddenly jumping on you, and licking your face.

“ACK-! HEEL HEEL-!” You called, as the dog was just to strong. How was something so fragile so durable? Reminded you of Sirius. How even in his dog form he was able to tackle people down. Was just making your heart hurt more, which in a morbid sense made you unable to refuse the dog either.

“Mum, Uncle Remus said you should head home with our new dog. He needs me to stay here and catch Mrs. Weasley up on stuff.” The way he fidgeted with his glasses told you it was a mixture of a lie and some truths. What the hell were these people planning? Was this some scheme to help you move on? Accept Sirius was never coming back? That hurt, but also a point was made. Who can escape Azkaban?

“Alright. But be home before dark.” You warned, as you kissed his forehead. Right on his scar, which made him smile. He made sure to give you a hug, before quickly returning to the red heads. Poor Molly looked ready to faint. Make that she did, and the twins had to catch her. Yeah, like hell you wanted to be involved with that.

“Alright, let’s-“ But the dog was running. Right through the wall, with no hesitation. You were flabbergasted, but had no time to think. Harry’s new dog was running off. No way you wanted his poor heart broken over that. So, you ran after it. Trying to catch up, but it seemed high on life.

“GET BACK HERE-!” You hollered, as the dog was running like it was the last thing it could ever do. You were so focused on trying to catch up to it, you barely noticed where you were running towards. By the time you finally caught up, you were wheezing. Hands on your knees, as the door the dog stopped at opened.

“About time Master and Mistress Black returned.” Kreacher sneered, as the dog hurried inside. Did he say what you think he said? No way. That can’t be Sirius. No way in hell. Looks like him, but he’s in Azkaban. You don’t just escape Azkaban. Sure, the daily prophet said he did. But it was more than likely gossip gone wild. You swore every week they said someone did, only for them to be returned the next day.

“Kreacher, phew, give me a minute here.” You coughed, as you stumbled inside. Left for the building to vanish, in the early morning fog. As if it was never there. Leaving you to be alone, with the elf and dog, as you hung up your coat.

You did your best with making the home more live able. The spare rooms built for whenever Harry wanted friends over for the summers. Along with just a safe haven for friends in need of a stay. You turned what was once a cage, into a proper home. Seemed the dog loved it, as it was quick to run up the stairs. Bolting past the curtained painting, and straight to your bedroom.

“How does it….No. no this can’t be. No way…” It was starting to become harder to deny, as you walked up the stairs. By the time you reached the door, you heard it. That familiar eerie bone cracking, when a animagus was changing forms. No way. It couldn’t be. It can’t-

“Home sweet home-“ That gruff voice sung to you, as you opened the door. There he was. Your husband. Your world. Your everything. Standing there, bending his back, as he sported a tattered Azkaban uniform. Bloody, dirty, hardly clothing at all. Hair a mangled mess, and in desempate need of a bath and shave. He was so sickly thin, the very thin fabric was just a sheet on him. Hardly could process it, when those dark eyes locked on yours. Hair so long now, and body tattered. No matter the design, it was still him. Your Sirius.

“Hardly changed a day…” He dreamily said, with that exhausted smile. He was so drained, but you could still see the pure joy in his eyes. He was home. He was with you, and could be there for Harry now. His best friend Remus was in his life again. He’s not in that damn prison, and he’s in your sight once more.

You didn’t care about the grime, as you practically fell into his arms. Sobbing in joy, as he held you close. Despite his thinner structure, he was able to hold you tightly. As tightly as he could, and sway with you. No need for words. Just gentle tears.

That was why Remus was so coy, and why Harry had you two run off. You two needed time to reconnect. Even so young, Harry could grasp how important this was. Guess you were rasing him right. Seemed also that Kreacher might have missed Sirius as well, because you could hear a bath being run. No one asked for it, but he did it. His own free choice. He missed him, in his own way.

“Darling, I love you so much. I really do, but I am so fucking gross right now. You know I’m being honest when even I’m unable to handle my own stink. I’ve had sex with Moony under a full moon. I’m GROSS gross right now. I will kill for a bath-“ He went on, making you just laugh with your tears. Despite the years in such a horrific prison, he was still himself. Guess he was always a little insane.

You didn’t let him go an inch, as you trailed after him to the bathroom. More than happy to help him wash. Just enjoying the needed intimate moment. Just a wife, washing her husband. By god was he filthy. By the time Harry and Remus returned, he was finally drying off. You had no idea if the bathtub will ever recover. Least he was now in his favorite black robe.

“I’ve got dinner handled, don’t worry-!” Remus called, as Sirius would come down the stairs with you. Unable to let go of his arm, and he hardly complained. He missed your touch all the same, as you two would enter the dinning room. Where Harry sat.

“Guess we better start from the beginning.” Harry murmured. You had already gotten used to your son’s insane adventures, but this one took the cake. He got his god father out of Azkaban, somehow-? Yeah, you were sitting down for this. Mindlessly playing with the exposed chest hair you could grab, as the trio of misfits began to explain.

Even while eating, more like Sirius devouring anything in sight, there was so much to discuss. Was mostly Remus, and Harry, speaking. Given Sirius was more so busy hiding during that time frame. Oh how your heart had broken, and repaired, over and over from it all. Your poor husband. But, he’s back now. He’s back, and he’s never leaving you again.

“I know you are my god father and all, but….Do I call you dad now-?” Harry asked. He’s thirteen, still a child after all. It’s going to be a lot to process, even by Wizard standards. With his meal finished, Sirius did have to think a moment. Dispite the fact Harry knew Sirius from stories, because of you and Remus, he was still a stranger after all.

“Uncle Padfoot will work just fine.” He smiled, as he ruffled Harry’s hair. That made the young teen give an awkward grin, as there was something to work with now. Uncle Moony and Uncle Padfoot. It’s a start, and you couldn’t be happier. Just staring with such love to him, with your head on his shoulder. Taking in that scent, as Remus was unable to stop his smile to.

“Harry, dear, why don’t we go out for a walk. Hm?” Remus asked him, making the boy raise a brow. Why would he want to….Oh. Right. Remus would give a gentle head nudge towards the door, and Harry was quick to get the message. Grabbing his jacket, wand, and chasing after his uncle. Not wanting to say another word, as he really rather not think about his mother’s sex life. Even if it’s with his god father.

The second the door closed, you were yanked from your chair. You gave a squeak, as you were tossed over his shoulder. Just like the old days at school. Whenever he wanted your attention, he simply tossed you over his shoulder. Forcing you to pay attention to him, as he would steal you to a private room for a discussion.

“I’m not letting you out of that bed until the head board breaks-“ He warned, as that had your heart racing. Twelve years is a long time, and there was most certainly some catching up to do. You couldn’t deny that, as you watch the stairs trail behind him. Escorting you to your once shared bedroom. Now together again.

You were plopped right on the bed, and he was on you like the hungry dog he was. Stealing you into his lips, and you couldn’t stop your moaning. It had been so long. You needed him as badly as he needed you. How you were enjoying the new long hair, and tangling your fingers into it. Needing as much skin as you could get from him.

He was more than happy to give it to you. The robe thrown aside, as he was pulling at your clothes. Not giving damn if they tore. Nothing else mattered in this moment. He wanted to fuck his wife, and by god was he going to. Twelve years, in Azkaban. He’s going to get all twelve years of pent up desire out in one night. Will your body recover? Do you even care?

“Sirius-“ You sighed, as he finally got your top off. His face buried into your chest, as he snapped your bra strap off. Tossing it aside, as he drank you up. Just feeling your skin on his, and savoring the long missed flesh against his bearded face. Feeling that freshly softened hair on your chest felt so good. Every single fiber of your existence was on fire. Felt like you might implode.

“Not a day passed by, that I wasn’t thinking of you. You, Remus, Harry, you three were what kept me sane. I knew you three were safe with each other. Waiting for me. I came back. I came back, like I promised.” He sighed, as you felt the tears on your chest. Gentle fingers played with his hair, as to try and calm him down. Comforting him.

“I always knew you would.” You felt so silly thinking Remus would ever try and help you move on. Hypocrite he would have been. Human emotions be human emotions, and they were being carnal right now. Needing to burn and burn and burn.

“Have me again, like you’ve had me before.” You asked him, as you cupped his face. Having that thick beard nuzzle into your palm, as those dark eyes stared up to yours. So much pain in his face, but comfort in his eyes. It’s a long journey to recover, but his soul was still there. His body is damaged, but a body can repair. A mind is harder, and that was the battle. A battle he won.

With a kiss to your palm, he would soon attack your lips. Growling into you, as he pulled away the rest of your clothes. Needing to devour your body. Soon marking away at your neck, your chest, your arms. If there was anything his lips could grasp, and making sure you were marked. As if to remind the world you belonged to him, and he wasn’t going anywhere. Not anymore.

“Sirius, how can you still be such a tease?” You whined, as he was grazing his teeth over your thigh. Leaving a bite on your flesh. Letting himself enjoy the flavor of the tingling flesh under his tongue.

“What? I’m an old dog. Old dogs have bad habits.” He teased, before he finally allowed you to get some attention. He really didn’t change, and you were shocked. Never thought being abused could be useful. Only a Black would have such a morbid survival skill.

Before any more depressing thoughts could fill your head, you were able to enjoy the familiar sight. Your husband between your legs, with his cock rubbing against you. The tip of his cock coming into view, whenever he rolled his hips up and down. Rubbing right on your clit, and making you whimper. Sure you’ve played with yourself, but nothing beats his touch.

You both were gripping tightly. Him on your thighs, while you grabbed his shoulders. Needing to feel him in your hands. You both needed it so badly, but both held a near fear. As if afraid that it was all a dream. Luckily, he had the nerve to test that fear. Test it, as he finally pushed in.

“Fuck, I’ve missed this-“ He moaned, as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. The way he growled, and his body just shivered. Aching, and moaning. Might spill just then, if he didn’t stop. Just savoring the feeling of being back inside of you, and how your eyes watered from pure comfort. To have your husband back.

He would lean down, and kiss away your tears, before he allowed himself to move. Just moaning for you, as his nails dug into your flesh. Marking you more, as you moaned into each others mouths. Needing to drink in every last thing you both could offer. So much to catch up on, and to make up for.

With the tender moment passing, you were soon reminded of the wild man you married. The feeling of your legs being pushed towards your shoulders, as he tried to get into you deeper. With his hands now on your ankles, as he was snapping his hips into yours. Needing to make sure you felt ever inch of him.

You loved it, and missed it, all. The feeling of your arms around his neck, and tangling your fingers into his hair. How he growled into you, and the snarls. Oh how you loved how animalistic he was for you. How he would bark and howl at the beg and call to you. Your big bad wolf.

It was all you missed. Had you in a mixture of tears, and pure desire. How he wanted to fight your tears, and kissed you. As heated as he could, to make up for the years parted. To taste you, and savor you all over again. Just the sounds of your moans, the creaking bed, and the flesh on flesh.

You didn’t know how long it lasted, but you felt him pull your lip. Sinking his teeth into it. A typical sign that he was close. A need to ground himself, to last a little longer. Oh how you missed his little habits. That thrill of pain again sent you over, as you came with him. To be as connected as possible.

You expected to get a moment to savor the after glow, but he kept true to his word. You were soon tossed onto your stomach, with the ass in the air. Of course he wanted doggy. It’s cheesey, but a favorite. Suppose one more round could be mustered.

One more became two, and three, and soon you had to chug a Pepper Up potion to keep up. You lost track of the rounds, before you were laid on your back. Soaked in sweat, and sticky from it all. Sheets hardly on the bed, and you were certain there were cracks in the wood. Hardly could breathe, but it seemed he was satisfied.

“Pretty sure you fucked a dozen kids into me.” You wheezed, as he chuckled. Enjoying a much needed cigarette, but still making sure you were comforted. Having your head in his lap, as he played with your face. Admiring all your features.

“Good.” He snickered, as you swatted at his hand. The both of you able to share a laugh, as there was a soft knock at the door. All Sirius had to do was give a sniff in the air, and he knew who it was. A whistle was given, before he grabbed a pillow for you. So you could cover up, despite the fact Remus has certainly saw you naked many times.

“Feeling better now-? Could have used a silencing charm. Had to tell Harry Kreacher was fixing a wardrobe.” Remus scoffed, with a tray of needed drinks and snacks. He would set it down on the bed side table, before joining on the bed. He deserved to catch up with Sirius to. Fine by you.

With some shifting, you were soon snuggled between the two men. Sirius still playing with your hair, as the two men remained sitting up. Keeping their voices low, so you could drift. Just able to be safe, and warm, again. Snuggling your husband, and comforted by the sound of old memories.

What a wonderful lullaby.

[unhingedromione]

Do people realize how rare it is for a male character as cool-coded as Ron to be so down bad for a female character as dork-coded as Hermione? Ron, the class clown and consummate cool kid, falls completely head over heels in love with Hermione, the ultimate dork, BEFORE SHE GOT HOT. It's not her looks or her personality that he falls in love with BUT HER BRAINS. It's beyond me how all feminists aren't Romione shippers.

[cringefailkralie]

ridiculously long list of things i’ve noticed about thomas grant and adam wadsworth’s portrayals of albus and scorpius

sorry in advance if this is messy, i wrote this at like 4am

albus flinches away when james steps too close to him!!!

when scorpius asks albus whether he prefers albus or al, he doesn’t have to think about his answer. instead he just looks shocked that someone was actually asking that, like nobody’s ever considered his feelings before. makes me feel like he’d been waiting his entire life for someone to actually ask him that.

tom’s albus doesn’t cry during the fight with harry like i’ve seen a lot of the other actors do. he just stares blankly ahead of him and completely shuts down. i’m head over heels in love with this choice because it really hammers home how hard it is for albus to express his feelings or communicate with anyone.

albus’s reaction to the love potion really really makes me believe that ron intended it to be a mean gay joke. even if ron didn’t intend for it to come across that way, that’s definitely what albus takes it as.

scorpius is just staring vacantly at a wall before he spots albus on the train in their 4th year. not sure if this is a specific acting choice or if i’m just reading into it too much?

they hold hands for a second and stand with their faces an inch away from each other as soon as they duck into their train compartment. their body language in private is so different from their body language in public.

albus squeezes his eyes closed when they hug. he really needed that physical affection but he hates anyone but scorpius being near him.

scorpius puts his hand on albus’s chest when the train starts moving. nothing to say about that its just really gay.

my favorite delivery of “oooo a quiz… WIZZO!!!” i fucking love how he does jazz hands when he says it, especially because it’s the second time he does jazz hands in that scene. he’s so me.

albus does so many little hand gestures in this scene, he’s way more comfortable being expressive around scorpius. he almost mirrors scorpius’s stupid little mannerisms.

bonus- not scorbus related but craig is first seen wearing his beanie on the train during the this sequence (where albus and scorpius decide to run away)!! idk if they don’t do this in other productions or if i just hadn’t ever picked up on it before, but it’s a really cute detail. does anyone know if he canonically got it when he became head boy?

when amos first tells them to leave, scorpius grabs onto albus’s sleeve

not even technically them but the ron and harry actors grab onto each other sooooo much (as albus and scorpius)

in love with how long scorpius hold out his “WIIIIIIIZZZOOOO” and how albus tries to match his energy with the “DOUBLE WIZZO”

delphi steals scorp’s little phrases and his awkward way of speaking and his mannerisms to try and appeal to albus because she knows that he reeeeally likes him- and i hate hate HATEEEE how she makes him feel like a freak for being himself when all the while she’s stealing his personality. scorpius plays with the fabric of his sweater and then fidgets with his hands after she tries to make him feel left out in the forbidden forest and i can FEEL what he’s feeling through the screen.

scorpius is JEALOUS jealous of delphi and when he talks to her his voice is quiet and monotone, which is the most un-scorpius thing ever. i love it. you can feel how much he hates her. i hate her too, this delphi is despicable. (very talented actress!!)

when scorpius tears his eyes away from the beautiful sight in front of them to look at albus and say “you’re my best friend” (which is crazy enough on its own) he talks in a really sweet, low voice before returning really quickly to his normal scorp-voice, as if he was afraid to let albus think about what had just happened

albus jumps up and down with excitement when they announce the triwizard tournament. he starts and then has to stop himself from cheering for hogwarts. funny that a guy who was just saying how much he hates hogwarts would do a thing like that.

everyone around scorpius gets startled when he starts cheering for krum because his screaming is so weird lmao

at the end of the scene where albus tells scorpius they’ll be better off without each other, scorpius just slumps over on the steps and stays there for the ENTIRETY of the next scene until he eventually gets wheeled off with the stairs. it looks like he’s fiddling with something? maybe his wand? maybe just his hands?

obviously the staircase ballet is the staircase ballet, but the way they look at each other is just AAAAUUUUGHHHHHHH

at the end of the ballet scorpius steps towards albus first, but albus is the one who reaches his hand out and slinks down onto the steps

obsessed with that gay little purse scorpius carries the time turner in

delphi gets scorpius to let his guard down during their conversation and scorpius starts talking like himself in front of her again!!!

albus does the little puke-gag-joke-thing in the library to try and make scorpius feel better </3

they’re both fidgeting with their hands throughout their whole conversation :(

ALBUS’S LITTLE GIGGLE WHEN SCORPIUS AGREES TO COME WITH HIM TO FIX TIME

this isn’t specific to this production but scorpius’s shoes are one of my favorite details. in the normal world, he wears big clunky shoes to showcase his awkwardness, whereas in the dark dimension he wears running shoes!! evil scorp is athletic!!!

the second “im fighting for albus” that comes out of scorpius’s mouth is said almost entirely to himself

their little hug in the water :,)

i LOVE LOVE LOVE that scorpius tries to hug draco and he pushes him away and throws his jacket at him in such a cold manner. it makes their hug near the end feel so much more important to their relationship. as soon as we meet scorpius he immediately refers to himself as having daddy issues and we don’t see nearly enough of that in this play.

bonus p2- one of my favorite parts of this show is the in trouble again number!!! i love the background gang and all of their little scenes like this. craig being a little gossip monger is funny as shit!!!! it gives him so much personality and makes his death that much sadder :(

the delivery of “scorpius….. he matters to me…. you know that don’t you?” is INSANE. tom grant delivers all of the coming out adjacent lines so perfectly.

i love how scorpius moves his body. he waves his arms around in the air so often.

scorpius tickled albus lmao they’re so weird

when scorpius talks about hating the other world, albus throws in “apart from polly chapman fancying you” quite bitterly and scorpius almost completely cuts him off. he doesn’t acknowledge what he said in any way shape or form and albus seems to notice that he’s not interested in polly.

scorpius rubs his socks on the floor while he talks :3

the choice to have scorpius move from his bed to albus’s bed and pull albus’s blanket into his lap when he tells him that he changed himself back for him is so AAAUGHHH

AND SCORPIUS DOES THE SAME THING THAT HE DID EARLIER AGAIN!!! he gets all quiet and sweet when he’s sort of admitting his feelings to albus and then all of a sudden he stands up and goes back to his normal loud voice

“MALFOY THE UNANXIOUS IS A PRRRRRETTY GOOD LIIIIAAAR”

delphi mocking scorpius and him immediately tensing up oh he hates her ass so much

scorpius reaches out to try and intercept albus handing delphi the time turner and albus giggles at scorpius because he’s happy she’s not extremely pissed at them

scorpius holds onto the railing right up until he gets his hands bound together because he’s afraid of heights. thought it was cute that adam chose to do this even though his fear of heights isn’t mentioned anywhere in this version.

i LOVE the torture scene in this version. albus is stone faced when delphi is threatening to torture him and then he IMMEDIATELY falls to his knees begging and pleading when she turns toward scorpius.

delphi is quite literally outing albus in this scene. the silence after she says that love is his weakness and points to scorpius is SO long and SO loud omg. it’s quite literally ten whole seconds (i counted) of albus and scorpius just looking at each other. it genuinely feels like she just spilled out what he’s been keeping inside of himself for so long, it’s gutwrenching. i guess they did just watch craig die so they do in fact have bigger problems, but you can see albus’s heart stop beating and its so terrible.

i love how albus turns to scorpius when the stationmaster starts unintelligibly talking to them like “hey, you’re doing the talking rn just so you know”

i’m obsessed with how excited scorpius is to tell albus all about the history of the place they’re in. in love with his little gasps at everything he sees and his jump when he says “SQUEAK!”

albus motioning for scorpius to stop when he’s demonstrating how to scream for help lmaoooo

albus pointing with both hands at scorpius while they try to come up with a plan is so cute. albus believes in him so much.

i love how scorpius keeps hugging draco even as he’s talking

their foreheads are literally brushing against each other my god these bitches gay

albus asks “and thats who you want in your palace?” in an almost panicked way like he’s afraid scorpius doesn’t feel the same way about him.

albus holds onto scorpius’s shoulders while rose tries to reassure them that they didn’t just get walked in on lmao

3rd and final instance of scorpius trying to change the subject- asking immediately about quidditch so albus doesn’t get the chance to say anything related to what just happened

scorpius says “come on” like he’s trying to get albus to come cut a rug with him at a middle school dance

obsessed with their little gagging and puking bit and how they made it a callback to what albus does in the library

maybe my favorite hug moment from any scorbus duo. i love how albus initially reacts with shock but then melts into it and closes his eyes, only pulling away to make sure he’s not reading the situation entirely wrong (he’s not)

my favorite ending scene by far. the coming out hits SO hard. the way albus fiddles with his zipper and scrunches up his sleeve in his hand, you can tell how absolutely terrified he is of saying this to his dad. the line delivery is genuinely fantastic. the more he pauses the longer you have to take it all in- and he pauses a LOT.

okie thanks for reading!!!!!

[rainydayathogwarts]

Hey hey, I absolutely love your writing. If you're still open to requests, I would love prompt 6 w/ Ron!! Tysm <333

6. Wiping away leftover lipgloss from their lips after kissing them.

Ron's grip tightened on your hips, a muffled groan leaving his lips when you press your chest against his snuggly, raising yourself onto your tippy toes to fetch another kiss from him. Your boyfriend was trapped between your body and the dresser behind him, not that he was complaining at all. Ron titled his head downwards, opening his mouth slightly to deepen the kiss, extracting a quiet moan from you, as your arms reached up to wrap over his shoulders, pulling him even closer to you.

The big hands on your hips loosened their grip on you, instead having arms snaking around your waist to tug you close in a suffocating hug. Ron's lips separated from yours as he dug his head in the crook of your neck, resorting to pressing kisses there instead, which had you squirming in his grip, one of your hands winding in his red hair, tugging him upwards to connect your lips back to his desperately. The second your lips reconnect in another kiss, a loud pop is heard in the room and you immediately push yourself off your boyfriend, spinning in his arms towards the location of the sound.

"Well this is exactly why Hermione didn't want to come up here herself, isn't it Georgie?" The two tall gingers stand in the room with their arms crossed and looks of feigned disappointment on their faces. "You are exactly right Freddie my boy." Replies the taller of the pair, shaking his head. "What?" You retort, confused. "Uh Hermione says you promised to have breakfast with her this morning while you finished the story?" You scoff, turning back to face your boyfriend, grabbing a fistful of his jumper to pull his down to your level, pressing your lips against his for a final kiss.

You take your time to kiss him despite the loud groans and pop slam of a door opening while the twins trudge out of the room, separating yourself from Ron to cup his face in your hand, thumb softly wiping the corner of his lips to try getting rid of the sticky lip gloss residue. Ron does the same, one hand cradling your cheek, the other one mimicking your movements. You grin up at him, letting your hand fall to his chest before patting him twice and spinning on your heels just in time to hear Hermione calling your name loudly.

[unconventional-lawnchair]

In the Space Between {Chapter One}

Barty Crouch Jr. x Reader

Wc: 4264

Masterlist

Summary: Reader wakes up from a dream that she can't quite remember, only for the day to unfold into more confusion.

<--Prev/Next-->

The morning sun filtered softly through the high windows of the Gryffindor dormitory, casting a warm glow over the scarlet and gold-draped room. You blinked awake, feeling an odd, heavy warmth in your chest, like you’d left something important behind in a dream you couldn’t quite remember. The feeling lingered just out of reach, fading the longer you stayed awake.

Hermione’s voice called out from the other side of the room. “Come on, rise and shine! Breakfast’s starting soon, and I promised we’d all go together. You too, no skiving off!” She grinned, looking far too awake already.

You sat up, rubbing your eyes and letting a smile tug at your lips despite the weight of that strange, forgotten feeling. “Alright, alright, I’m up!” You mumbled, tossing back your blankets.

Hermione laughed, flicking through her books as she hummed to herself. “You and your lie-ins. Just try to look halfway prepared today, yeah? Double Potions isn’t exactly forgiving.”

Ron poked his head around the doorway, his hair a mess as he blinked at you all. “Did someone say Potions? Blimey, it’s too early to be thinking about Snape.”

Just then, Luna drifted in from the direction of Hermione’s bed, her dreamy smile widening when she saw you all together. “Good morning,” she greeted in her usual soft voice, moving over and flopping onto your bed without any hesitation. She curled up beside you, her blue pajamas a sharp contrast against the red bedspread, her expression blissful as if this was the most natural thing in the world. “There is a new lesson in herbology today. There’s supposed to be a new herb that clears out lingering dreams- should be done by the end of the week,” she added, her voice almost a whisper. “It’s lovely for anyone who’s just woken from a long journey.”

You felt a strange pang at her words, a hint of something forgotten. You glanced at her, only to see her looking right through you, as if she understood something no one else could.

Harry’s voice came from the hall. “You lot coming, or are we leaving you behind till lunch?” He sounded exasperated, though you could imagine the half-smile on his face as he teased.

“Like we’d let that happen.” Draco’s cool tone followed as he appeared behind Ron, a smirk on his face. “Already enough to be late for breakfast once a week thanks to this lot.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, nudging you with a grin. “Alright, get a move on! Merlin knows we’ve got to keep you lot on schedule.”

Luna let out a soft laugh, stretching as she finally slid off your bed, though she didn’t look in any hurry. “It’s much too early to be moving this fast, isn’t it?” She said dreamily, though she let Hermione guide her towards the door.

Ron gave a lazy salute. “Right, let’s get this over with. Though if anyone’s got a plan to dodge Snape today, I’m all ears.”

You grinned, sliding out of bed and joining the group as you headed down the staircase, feeling the warmth of their banter easing that odd feeling from earlier. It felt good to be here, surrounded by friends, an affection bubbling in your chest- like seeing the school after a summer vacation. And though you couldn’t shake the faint ache of something missing, their voices wrapped around you, bringing you fully back into the present.

~~~

Potions was, without a doubt, your Achilles’ heel. So when you stepped into the chilly dungeon classroom, early morning fog still clinging to your mind, and saw Amortentia scrawled across the board in Snape’s distinctive, sharp handwriting, your heart sank. Great. The one potion you were least equipped to tackle, first thing in the morning.

You slid into a seat between Harry and Hermione, noticing that the class was buzzing with a mix of excitement and unease. Even Ron looked a bit apprehensive, his brow furrowing as he glanced at the board.

“Brilliant. Love potion on a Monday morning,” Harry muttered, casting a wary glance at the other students who seemed to be eyeing the cauldron at the front with barely contained curiosity.

“Snape must be having a laugh,” Ron grumbled, eyeing the cauldron suspiciously, as though it might explode at any moment.

Hermione rolled her eyes and shot you a sympathetic look. “Amortentia is only tricky if you don’t follow the instructions precisely,” She mused, her tone reassuring. “Just…don’t rush it. It’s all about control.”

You gave her a faint smile, but your stomach was twisting. Potions required precision, focus- qualities that always seemed to elude you in this particular subject. Especially today. But it wasn’t just the potion itself that unsettled you; it was the idea of smelling what you were drawn to, what you loved. What if it revealed something you weren’t ready to confront?

Luna, who had seated herself across from you, gave you an encouraging smile. “I think it will be fascinating.” She said airily. “They say you’ll smell exactly what your heart desires, even things you didn’t know yourself.”

Draco, leaning back in his seat with a smirk, raised an eyebrow at her. “That’s the bit that worries me, actually.”

Snape swept into the room then, his robes billowing as he moved to the front, dark eyes surveying the class with his usual disdain. “Today, we’ll be brewing Amortentia.” He began, his tone cold. “The most powerful love potion in existence. When complete, the potion should smell unique to each of you, revealing what it is that draws you most. But be warned: missteps will not be tolerated.”

A ripple of nervous energy moved through the room, and you felt Hermione nudge you encouragingly. “You’ve got this.”

Taking a steadying breath, you leaned over your cauldron and began measuring out ingredients, keeping Snape’s warning firmly in mind. Then, a sudden odd calm overtook you. The smell of the iron cast cauldron and sterile humidity was, for once, a comfort.

As if on autopilot, you moved with a confidence that felt foreign, almost like muscle memory. You didn’t look at the instructions on the board or consult your textbook; instead, your hands worked instinctively, as if you’d done this a hundred times before. You reached for the vial of rose thorns and added them with a precise flick of your wrist.

Harry shot you a bewildered look. “Rose thorns? Isn’t that step five?”

You barely heard him, pouring a measured amount of moonstone dust with a steady hand. Your movements felt natural, even practiced. You added a few crushed lavender blossoms, a pinch of asphodel root- ingredients you hadn’t even seen listed on the board.

Hermione watched with wide eyes, glancing between your cauldron and her textbook. “That’s…that’s not in the instructions.” She whispered, sounding half-intrigued and half-concerned. “Where did you learn this?”

You blinked, as if coming out of a trance, but the recipe seemed to be etched into your mind. “I… don’t know. It just feels right.”

Draco, a few seats down, had been watching with narrowed eyes, his usual calm demeanor wavering. “Not that I’m questioning your creative interpretation.” He drawled, though his tone was edged with unease, “but are you sure about that?”

Your hands paused only for a moment before you stirred the mixture counterclockwise, then clockwise, creating a swirl of shimmering, mother-of-pearl liquid that looked strikingly different from everyone else’s.

“It just… makes sense,” You said softly, your voice trailing off as you realized how strange it sounded. You didn’t know why, but every step had felt so certain, like a memory lodged deep within you.

The room filled with the faint scent of your potion, unique and heady, drawing a few curious glances from the tables around you. Hermione bit her lip, clearly trying to hide her fascination. “It’s… actually perfect,” She murmured, looking both impressed and mystified.

Snape drifted past, eyeing your potion with an inscrutable look as he paused, his dark gaze flicking between the shimmering liquid and your expression. He gave no comment, but the faintest crease in his brow hinted at surprise.

As he moved on, you couldn’t help but feel a strange mixture of pride and bewilderment. How could you possibly know the recipe by heart?

“Someone's got a hidden talent.” Luna murmured with a smile, her voice soft but carrying a hint of admiration.

“You think so, Panda?” You blinked, the name slipping out of your mouth before you’d even realized it. Panda? Pandora. The word hung between you and Luna, as if plucked from somewhere deep in your mind, an old memory that didn't belong. Your heart clenched painfully, and for a moment, you could almost picture another face across from you, one that looked strangely like Luna's but… different.

Luna’s gaze softened, her dreamy smile unwavering. She seemed unfazed, as if she knew something you didn’t, or perhaps as if she was used to these strange slips from you. Her voice was as gentle as ever. “I do. What's it smell like?”

You inhaled, leaning closer to the shimmering surface of the potion, and the scents wafted up, filling the air around you with an overwhelming warmth. Familiar, somehow- a mix of crisp parchment, wild lavender, and something else, something faintly smoky and musky, like an autumn bonfire on a cold night. The scents tugged at your heart, achingly familiar, even though you couldn’t place why.

“It’s…” You started, trailing off, struggling to put the feeling into words. “It smells like… Ron’s mums biscuits. Like wet grass.” You started, furrowing your brow. “Rain water. Cedar and.. cancer sticks- Cologne?” You scoffed and rubbed your temple. You didn't know a single soul who smoked. “Maybe I didn't do it right. I don't know anyone who wears cologne like that.”

Luna tilted her head, her eyes twinkling with that familiar, knowing look. “Perhaps it’s not about who you know now, but who your heart remembers,” She murmured softly, her voice laced with a kind of wisdom that always seemed far beyond her years. “Amortentia doesn’t lie, you know. Sometimes it just shows us what we haven’t quite found yet.”

You frowned, trying to make sense of the scents that seemed so contradictory yet so vivid. Ron’s mum’s biscuits you could understand- home, warmth, safety. But the rain water and cedar, the smokes and old cologne… they felt like puzzle pieces that didn’t quite fit.

Hermione leaned over, her curiosity evident. “Rainwater and cedar? That’s… peculiar, isn’t it? And who even smokes anymore?”

You shrugged, feeling a strange frustration bubble up, though you couldn’t place why. “Yeah, maybe my mind’s just making things up. Such strong cologne. Ive never even smelled it in my life.”

Harry gave you a gentle nudge, trying to bring back some lightness. “Or maybe there’s some mysterious figure out there just waiting for you. A dashing, smoke-scented wizard, who knows?”

You rolled your eyes, laughing it off, but the strange ache lingered. The scents tugged at you, like a half-forgotten melody that you couldn’t shake. And though you forced a smile, that smoky cologne and cedar clung to your senses, leaving an imprint in your mind that felt more like a memory than a fantasy.

~~~

The Great Hall buzzed with the familiar chatter of students, the clinking of silverware, and the smell of roast chicken and pumpkin pasties. You sat wedged between Hermione and Ron, laughter bubbling up as they recounted the day’s ridiculousness in Herbology. Across from you, Harry leaned in, a small grin tugging at his lips as he listened, his gaze shifting between his friends, glowing with that easy warmth you’d come to rely on.

You joined in, laughing as Hermione teased Ron about his haphazard attempt to repot a Fanged Geranium. But as you glanced over at Harry, something felt… off. Your vision blurred, just for a second, as if the flickering candlelight was casting strange shadows across his face.

And then, as quickly as it began, the scene shifted. Harry was no longer the boy you knew- the easygoing smile vanished, replaced by a solemn expression. You blinked, and there it was: a lightning-shaped scar, faint yet unmistakable, cutting across his forehead. His eyes looked haunted, shadowed by something dark, something hollow.

The room around you faded, and suddenly, the cheerful laughter of your friends seemed distant, muffled, like hearing them from underwater. You could only see Harry’s face, that scar, as vivid and strange as if he’d been marked by something terrible.

“Oi, you alright?” Ron’s voice cut through the haze, grounding you. He was staring at you with a furrowed brow, his expression tinged with worry. “You’ve gone all pale.”

You blinked, shaking your head to clear the fog, and the scar was gone. Harry was back to himself, looking at you with a hint of concern now.

“I’m fine,” you managed, forcing a smile that felt oddly heavy. “Just… zoned out for a moment.”

Hermione leaned closer, her hand resting on your arm. “You sure? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Or about to become one.” Draco murmured from beside Harry.

You shrugged, trying to brush it off, but the image of Harry with that scar lingered in your mind, like an imprint. “Yeah, I… I guess I’m just tired.”

As the others returned to their conversation, you found yourself stealing glances at Harry, half-expecting the scar to reappear, to catch a glimpse of that haunted look in his eyes. But he was back to being Harry, your friend, the same boy who always had your back.

You tried to shake off the lingering discomfort, focusing instead on the familiar warmth of the Great Hall. The laughter, the clinking of goblets, the buzz of students- all the sounds you’d come to know by heart, grounding you in the present. But the nagging feeling wouldn’t let go, clawing at the back of your mind, as though something crucial was slipping further away with each passing second.

Your gaze drifted back to Luna, who sat with her usual serene smile, as if the world and all its mysteries were an open book to her. She was laughing at something Cho said, a light, airy sound that echoed in your ears. And just as you looked over, she tilted her head, catching your eye like she’d been waiting for you to notice her.

There was a strange intensity in her gaze, a knowing spark that made your heart stutter. Luna’s smile softened, almost as if she could sense the disquiet settling around you, the confusion clouding your thoughts. It was a simple gesture, that small smile, but it held a kind of understanding you couldn’t quite place.

You returned her smile, though yours was thin, forced, as if the very act of smiling felt wrong in that moment. There was a voice in your mind, faint but persistent, whispering that this wasn’t right- that there was something more you needed to remember, something hidden just beyond the edges of your thoughts.

“What’s up with you?” Hermione’s voice broke through the fog, snapping you back to the present. She was watching you with a mix of curiosity and concern, her hand hovering near yours.

“Nothing, just… thinking, I guess.” You forced a chuckle, shrugging it off, but even you could hear the tremor in your voice.

Hermione studied you, her brows furrowing. “You’re acting a bit strange, you know. More than usual.”

Before you could answer, Harry leaned in, trying to catch your eye. “You sure you’re alright? You don’t seem like yourself.”

“I’m fine.” You replied quickly, perhaps too quickly. The words felt hollow, the lie brittle on your tongue.

But even as they returned to their conversation, you could still feel Luna’s gaze from across the room, watching you, patient and knowing, as if she understood something about you that you didn’t. And that look of hers sent a shiver through you- a sense that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t alone in this feeling, that someone else sensed the fractured pieces of a memory slipping through your fingers.

“I think I'm going to go to sleep.” You muttered as you stood. Your friends saying their goodbyes but you felt further from their muffling voices then ever before.

What was happening?

~~~

You padded quietly back to your dorm, your steps slow, each one feeling heavier than the last. The dimly lit corridor was unusually silent, the only sound a faint, echoing drip from a nearby leaky drain. The hum of the Great Hall still buzzed faintly in your ears, but there was something unsettling about how disconnected it all felt- as if you’d been watching it from the outside.

Finally reaching your dorm, you pushed open the door, the familiar space greeting you like a sterile vacuum. The room was quiet, bathed in the cool silver light spilling through the window. You let out a sigh, pressing your back against the door as you shut your eyes, hoping to push away the lingering strangeness that had followed you all day.

But before you could sink further into your thoughts, a loud thud at the door jolted you upright. You jumped back just in time as Draco, Luna, and Hermione stumbled into the room, each with their own mixture of determination and curiosity painted across their faces.

“Hope you weren’t planning on sulking alone tonight.” Draco smirked, recovering his balance and straightening his robes as though he hadn’t just practically broken down your door.

Hermione shook her head, smiling softly as she crossed her arms. “We thought maybe you could use some company. You’ve been… well, distant. And I know you, you never just ‘need sleep,’” she added with a knowing glance.

Luna drifted in last, her serene expression as dreamy as ever. “I think it’s perfectly alright to feel a bit lost sometimes. But it’s even better to have friends to help find you again.” Her voice was soft, like a whisper of comfort.

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t stop the smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “Alright, alright,” you relented, moving to sit on your bed. “I suppose I can let you all hover over me for a bit. I didn’t realize I was acting that strange.” The lie came off more naturally then you were used to. You typically never did, seeing as Hermione and Luna could typically see through you like a window.

Draco made himself comfortable on the edge of your bed, quirking an eyebrow as he nudged you. “You’re always strange, but today you seemed even stranger. And that’s saying something. Not quite Luna, though.”

You smacked his arm and laughed. “Coming from you, that’s practically a compliment.”

Luna seated herself on the rug, looking around the room as if she might find hidden secrets in the shadows. Hermione settled next to you, casting a sympathetic glance in your direction.

“So,” Hermione began, drumming her hands against her legs, her tone gentle, “Are you going to tell us what’s really going on?”

You hesitated, glancing around at each of them. “I don’t know, it’s hard to explain. Today… everything just felt… off.”

“Off how?” Draco asked, his gaze sharpening, his usual air of detachment replaced by genuine curiosity.

“I’m not sure.” You sighed, running a hand through your hair, earning a chort from Draco and an almost fond sigh from Luna. “It’s like I can’t shake the feeling that… that I’ve forgotten something. Or someone. I keep seeing things that don’t make sense. I keep seeing…” You trailed off, shaking your head. “It’s silly.”

Luna tilted her head, watching you with that intense, knowing gaze of hers. “Sometimes, the heart wants us to remember things the mind has forgotten.” She said softly, her voice almost a murmur. “And memories… they have a way of slipping through when they’re needed most.”

You gave a small, wavering smile. “You always say the strangest things, Panda.”

Draco’s eyebrows shot up, his mouth opening in surprise as he turned to you. “Panda?”

You froze, blinking as the name slipped from your mouth. “I-I mean, Luna. Sorry. I don’t know why I keep saying that.”

Draco narrowed his eyes, looking at you as if he’d just uncovered some hidden secret. “Panda?” He echoed, his tone half-amused, half-puzzled.

Luna only smiled, unbothered, as if the name felt perfectly natural. “I don’t mind. I just think you miss her.”

All eyes snapped to her momentarily. Luna was still smiling up at you three listlessly, your expressions varying levels of alarm.

Hermione was the first to finally ask, her voice hesitant. “... who, Luna?”

“Well, Panda, of course. Not quite sure who she is, but your Wackspurts are rather discombobulated. Confused, whispering names I'm not familiar with.”

There was a long pause before you leaned forward on your seat, holding onto this small sense of clarity like a lifeline. “What.. what are the names, Luna?”

“I don't know..” She mumbled. “But I think you do. Right?”

The room fell into a still silence as everyone absorbed Luna’s observation. It was clear, that you knew names of people you had never met. You could see it, her calm gaze drifting from one of you to the next. Her usual dreamy demeanor was laced with a startling clarity, like she saw beyond the obvious, into something hidden just beneath the surface.

“Discombobulated wackspurts…” Draco repeated slowly, his eyes narrowing as he shot you a look. “Leave it to Lovegood to make a mystery even more confusing.”

Hermione pursed her lips thoughtfully, her hand drifting to rest on your shoulder. “It’s not like you to say things that don’t make sense- not to yourself, anyway. Maybe… maybe this ‘Panda’ is someone you’re forgetting?”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the words didn’t come. Instead, a sense of longing tugged at your chest, like a half-remembered dream slipping through your fingers.

Luna tilted her head, watching you with soft eyes. “It’s alright if you can’t remember right now. Sometimes, memories hide until we’re ready to see them again. They’re like stars,” She murmured, gesturing up as if she could see constellations above. “Not always visible, but always there. Even when they flicker.”

Flickering stars?

You managed a smile, feeling oddly comforted by her words. “So, what do I do then? Just… wait until it comes back?”

Draco rolled his eyes, but his expression softened as he nudged you lightly. “Or, you know, you could take an approach much more suited to us. Hunt down whatever’s lurking in that head of yours until it coughs up some answers.”

Hermione smiled, giving you an encouraging look. “Maybe a bit of both? Luna might be right; perhaps you just need time. But if you’re really curious, there might be a way to bring it back a bit sooner.”

Luna’s eyes sparkled with a quiet excitement. “Yes! There’s a potion for that, actually. My mum used to talk about it, said I'd do good to remember it. A memory draught, something to coax out memories hidden by time or… even by magic. It's quite a handful to brew.”

Draco smirked, leaning back against the headboard. “Well, then, sounds like we have ourselves a little project. You game, mystery girl?”

You looked around at the three of them, feeling a warmth spread through you despite the lingering confusion. It was as if you weren’t alone in this- like whatever secrets hid in your heart, you had friends willing to help uncover them.

“Alright,” You said softly, nodding. “Let’s find out what- or who- I’m missing. Just.. let's not tell Harry or Ron yet, yeah?”

“Why not?” Draco furrowed his brow, a flash of defensiveness crossing his eyes at the mention of Harry. You should've known he'd question you, him and Draco were practically brothers. What could you tell him? The truth? The image of him in the Great Hall that was burned into the back of your mind? Such intense sorrow?

"Because I don’t want them to worry- not yet, anyway," You muttered, trying to keep your voice steady, though even you could feel the underlying tremor. "Ron'll just hover and ask a million questions, and right now, I just… I just need to understand what’s happening before they get involved. Harry.. oh, he may turn over the whole school; he's not exactly subtle. He means well, but..."

"You know how he is about us." Hermione finished with a small smile, putting her hand over yours. "He'd sooner see the school crumble than know we were aching."

Draco didn’t look entirely convinced, but he nodded, glancing over at Hermione, who offered a reassuring smile. “We’ll keep it to ourselves, at least for now. But we’ll be here for whatever you need.”

Luna reached out, resting a gentle hand on yours. “If memories are hidden, then perhaps we’re meant to find them together.” Her eyes sparkled with her usual dreaminess but held a warmth that was grounding. Together. Something about the way she said that made your heart ache. “Maybe it’s no accident that you have us to help.”

The weight of her words hung in the air, filling you with a strange comfort. This wasn’t a journey you were taking alone. Whatever lay hidden in the corners of your mind, whatever was flickering just beyond reach, you had friends who would walk that path with you.

"So, when do we start?" Draco asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes, as if the whole situation was a puzzle he was more than ready to unravel.

Hermione grinned, the academic excitement brightening her face. “We’ll have to brew the memory draught first, which means gathering a few… shall we say… less-than-common ingredients.”

Draco leaned in closer, smirking. “Sounds like a Slytherin's specialty. Snape won't ever know we were there."

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound breaking through the tension. “Alright, looks like we’ve got ourselves a plan.” You looked around at them all, feeling an unspoken promise hanging in the air. Whatever secrets your heart and mind held, you’d face them together, one hidden memory at a time.

Taglist: @bmyva1entine

[agreeewrites]

A Madness Most Discreet pt. 2 | G.W.

feat. George Weasley x Malfoy!reader

summary: You and George grow closer after Gryffindor beats Slytherin in the first Quidditch match of the year, succumbing the magnetic pull towards one another. But things only get more complicated when the two of you return to the harsh reality of your situation.

cw: MDNI 18+, smut, mentions of injury, simp!George, dirty talk, oral (m receiving), piv, cruel parents, hurt/comfort, naive!reader, mentions of war and death eaters, lying (or withholding the entire truth)

series navigation | part one | part three | part four | masterlist | divider by @roseraris

You tossed and turned all night, seeing George, feeling his hands on you every time you closed your eyes. Before you knew it, the sun was shining, and everyone was getting ready for the first Quidditch match of the season.

Slytherin versus Gryffindor.

Your heart gave an excited trill. George was a Beater on the Gryffindor team, and even though he'd be slinging bowling balls of fury at your brother, you found yourself eager to see him in action.

You quickly got ready for the match and followed the rest of your house to the pitch. The energy was palpable, the rivalry one that never failed to draw a massive crowd. Unfortunately, it was a gloomy, overcast day, rain misting over the campus in a continuous haze.

Slytherin came out first, with Draco and Blaise leading the emerald charge. The Slytherin stands roared for them, jostling you and stomping on the stands. But the rest of stadium was silent as stone, many people even going so far as to start booing.

It hurt your heart a little, to see so many praying on Draco's downfall, but he didn't seem even marginally phased. His chin is lifted, his spine straight, a regal smile on his face even as the rain slicked down his hair.

A few moments later, the Gryffindor team exploded out of the tunnel, Harry and Ron at the head. But your eye immediately found George, leaning forward on his broom to rocket out above the pitch. He and Fred spiraled around one another before separating way above your head, red and gold fireworks shooting out between them as they plummeted back down.

The crowd whooped and cheered. “Weasley! Weasley! Weasley!” And you shook your head, catching the cheeky grin on his face when he flew by.

The game started quickly, and despite your best efforts, you couldn't take your eyes off of George. He was a master on the broom, and brutal with his Beater Bat. The strength and dexterity alone had your thighs clenching together, but coupled with his rain-soaked body, carefree smile, and contagious enthusiasm, you were ready to snatch him out of the air and drag him back to your room.

Madam Hootch called a temporary pause when a one of George's bludgers knocked the Slytherin Keeper backwards through the hoop, and into the infirmary.

The crowd was screaming for him, girls waving their scarves from every house, vying for his attention. But instead of paying them any mind, he hovered in front of the Slytherin stands. Whether he was extremely brave, or extremely stupid, you weren't sure. But he was eye level with you, twirling his bat in his hand, water droplets flinging off the end of it.

You heart rate spiked. He was close enough you could almost touch him. Could see the water beading along his brow, the mud smudged on his cheek.

“Begin!” Madam Hootch hollered, and George flashed you a wink before taking off once more.

Cheeks burning, you turned you attention where it should be, on Draco, who was hovering by the Gryffindor goal posts, eyes searching. Suddenly, he took off, Harry hot on his heels. They zigzagged across the field, clearly in pursuit of the nearly invisible snitch.

You saw Fred smack a bludger in Draco's direction and lost your breath, but Draco ducked at the last second, and it whizzed by him. He was rapidly gaining on the snitch, but so was Harry. The crowd was on the edge of their seats, you heart pounding in your ears.

“Go Draco!” You screamed, hands cupped around your mouth.

Suddenly, Draco grabbed Harry by the hood and yanked him backwards, nearly taking him off of his broom. Gryffindor booed, and Madam Hootch blasted the whistle, but the game kept going.

Harry managed to stay up, and even started to pull ahead again, when Draco reached for him once more.

A deafening crack echoed across the pitch. You looked for the source of the sound and saw George finish his follow through, bat arm raised high. The bludger was like a missile directed straight at Draco, and your stomach plummeted.

If there was one thing you'd learned throughout the match: George Weasley never missed.

The bludger beamed straight for Draco, but at the last moment, it whistled just under his arm, snagging the extra fabric of his robes and pulling him off course, missing his actual body entirely. If it had hit him…you shuddered. Draco's arm would have been snapped clean in half.

Moments later, Harry wrapped his hand around the snitch, and the stands erupted in cheers.

“Gryffindor wins!”

You were torn in two: half-disappointed for your brother, half-elated for George. But you knew Draco needed you more. It wasn’t like you could go celebrate with George, no matter how much you wanted to. So, you hurried out of the stands before the ocean of people started to move, Blaise at your back, making a beeline for the Slytherin locker rooms.

“He's going to be so pissed,” Blaise said, opening the locker room door for you.

You found Draco immediately, berating the Slytherin Beaters for not dealing with the Weasley twins sooner.

“D!” You called and he opened an arm to you, but didn't pause his raging. You slipped underneath it, wrapping your arms around his middle, not caring that he was soaked to the bone and near trembling with outrage.

“You will be on the pitch at dawn and practice until classes begin, then from the end of classes to dinner. Understood?!” Draco barked at the cowering Beaters.

“Yes, sir,” they said in unison.

“Get out of my fucking face,” he snapped, before turning fully and hugging you against his chest. “Fucking Weasley's,” he grumbled, resting his chin on top of your head. “Should teach those worthless fuckers a lesson.”

You bit your tongue, anger flaring hot under your skin at his cruel words. You knew he was just speaking out of insecurity, but it still didn't sit well with you. No one was worthless.

But, instead of telling him off like you wanted to, you handled it how you did when your father was in a mood: by placating him. “You did amazing. And I'm so glad I finally got to see you play.”

“Would have been better if you saw me win. What does that say about me that I can’t beat a fucking Weasley.”

You leaned back, flicking his nose. “Stop with that self-depricating shit. It makes you look weak,” you parroted your father, knowing it would snap him out of it even if the words tasted bitter on your tongue.

“Yes, father,” he glowered, releasing you to greet Blaise with a handshake and quick hug.

You slipped away, finding Pansy in the crowd and together returned to the Slytherin common room, but the vibes were sour and hostile after such a narrow loss. After showering, Draco went straight to the conjured bar, hellbent on drowning his sorrows in liquor, leaving you alone, surrounded by drunken strangers fawning all over you. Not for the first time, you wondered if they even saw you, or just your name, flashing like a marquise over your head.

Malfoy! Malfoy! Malfoy!

They didn’t give a fuck about you, all they cared about was your favor, and the glimmer of power they could skim off of you.

All you could think about was George. He was the first person that saw you, not your name, not your legacy, but you. You weren’t sure if anyone else ever had.

To your family, you were the precious daughter, the shining jewel of the Malfoy crown. To Draco, you were another burden. You knew he loved you, but you were just another person to impress, to protect, to worry about. Another responsibility heaped onto his already bowed shoulders.

The common room door opened, and you spotted a paper bird soar through. You followed it with your eyes, mildly interested, when suddenly it turned towards you. Your eyes widened as it swooped closer, sailing just over your head, then fluttered down into your lap.

Hastily, you tucked it into your robes and excused yourself, slipping into a shadowed corner. You carefully unfolded the bird, heart in your throat.

Astronomy Tower. G

George's POV

George sat in a window of the Astronomy Tower, one foot propped up on the sill, the other resting on the floor. He twirled his wand in his hand, uncertainty making him fidget.

He'd tried to stay at the Gryffindor party and let loose, he really did, but all he could think about was you. The way you tasted, the way you felt, the way you made him feel. It was an endless loop in his mind, your lips on his, your pulse under his fingertips, your body moving into his, over and over and over and over—

“So, this is how you want to celebrate you victory?” Your voice echoed along the stone, yanking him from his reverie.

He dropped his foot and turned, his breath hitching when his eyes landed on you. Your lips were painted red, glossy in the moonlight, dressed in a white blouse and your Slytherin skirt. It had only been a few hours since he saw you bundled up in the stands, how could he have forgotten just how beautiful you were?

You strode closer, steps light and graceful across the stone. “There must be a rager happening in the Gryffindor common room? And yet—” you stepped between his knees, placing your manicured hands on his shoulders and looking up at him. “Here you are.”

It took all of his self-control to not kiss you right then and there. “Had other things on my mind,” he said with a shy smile, pocketing his wand and sliding his hands along the gentle slope of your ribcage, pulling you closer.

“Like?” You prodded.

“What about you? Things a little tense in the dungeon?” He teased, knowing exactly how sullen Draco would be after a loss on his account. Though, the victory had been decidedly less sweet after seeing the concern on your face as you fled the stands after your brother.

“Thank you for not breaking his arm,” you said.

His brow furrowed, surprised. “How do you know I wasn't trying to?”

“I was watching you, George. You could have taken his head off his shoulders if you wanted to.”

He shrugged a shoulder, humble as he could manage, though the praise filled his chest with light.

“Why didn't you?” You asked. “He deserved a good whack for what he did to Potter.”

George found himself at a loss for words, stunned by what he was hearing. You were so un-Draco-like, it was mind boggling. You had all of the pomp, all of the swagger, but none of the vitriol. You were genuine. Honest. He struggled to reconcile the relation of you, this beautiful, open-hearted, whip-smart creature, with the hard-headed, little bitch blondie he'd known for years.

“I'm not one to cause unnecessary harm—” he started.

“You sent that Keeper to the infirmary without a second thought,” you cut him off.

He loosed a chuckle. You were so refreshingly blunt, a trait he deeply appreciated. “Fine. I thought you'd be angry with me if I hurt him,” he admitted.

Your eyes flitted over his face as if searching for something. “You're too kind, Georgie,” you finally murmured, cupping his face in your delicate hands. You placed a kiss on his nose, his eyelids, his cheeks, and he melted for you, pliable as wet clay, and prayed your lipstick left its mark. “So sweet for considering my feelings.”

His heart nearly leapt out of his chest, his stomach clenching when so sweet rolled off your tongue. He exhaled, his affection taking up too much space in his chest to hold air.

“But George—” you gripped his jaw a little firmer and he opened his eyes, finding your face a few scant centimeters from his. “I have all the yes men I could want. I don't need another spineless twit.” Your other hand flattened against his sternum, feeling the heavy thump thump thump of his racing heart.

“Tired of cold, callous snakes?” He asked, placing his hand over yours on his chest.

“Merlin, yes,” you breathed. “You feel so…” your fingers curled into his sweater, pulling him a fraction closer. “So real.”

“Oh, I'm very real. But I'm not convinced you are.” He let his other hand slide around to your lower back, closing the last inch between your bodies. You smelled of cigarette smoke and expensive perfume, a bit of lavender oil on your skin.

“Why's that?” Your hands found their way into his hair, gliding your nails along his scalp in a way that made his bones soften, his eyes roll back.

“Too bloody perfect.” The last of his restraint slipped away, and he pressed a kiss to the side of your mouth, making his way down to your throat. He lifted your hair, revealing the mark he'd left the day before, and dragged his tongue over it, imaging how many more he could leave on countless hidden places.

“Are we insane?” you sighed, tilting your head back for him, so beautifully vulnerable.

He certainly felt insane—insane with desire for you. But he shook his head. “No, I think it's the rest of them that are mad,” he murmured against your skin, wanting to drown in your scent, your warmth.

“I think you're right.”

Reader’s POV

George slid his fingers into the hair at the nape of your neck, guiding your lips to his. A thrill coursed down your spine and you sighed, gliding your tongue over his lower lip.

He groaned, his grip on your hair tightening, and his tongue brushed against yours. Slowly, he coaxed your mouth open, lush licks and lingering presses, his hands firm but not rough. Like he was savoring a fine meal, a deliberate and purposeful devouring.

But you weren't nearly as patient as he was.

You caught his lower lip between your teeth, tugging lightly, and his breath caught in his chest. You soothed the sting with your tongue and released him, kissing the corner of his mouth, across his freckled jaw and down his neck, leaving smears of lipstick over his fair skin. Marking him as yours.

“Definitely aren't real,” he sighed, tilting his head back as your nursed a bruise under his ear, your head going fuzzy from the overwhelming smell of his cologne. “Is it true that Malfoy's have Veela blood?”

You huffed a laugh, breaking the seal of your lips on his flesh, and lowered yourself to your knees between his legs.

His eyes widened is surprise, his body freezing like a deer in headlights.

“What makes you think I'm part-Veela?” You asked, running your hands up his thighs, the muscles trembling under your touch.

“I-uh, well—you’re so—p-pretty and—saints.” George stuttered as you leaned forward, his bulge straining against his jeans.

You brushed your lips against the covered swell of him, and a strangled gasp escaped from his chest. “You think I'm pretty, baby?” You asked without removing your lips from his cock, glancing up at him through your lashes, and you felt him surge under the warmth of your mouth.

“D-don't start with me, rattlesnake,” he groaned when you dragged your tongue over the root of him. He threaded his fingers into your hair, his other hand gripping sill of the stone window, grounding himself. “You know you're gorgeous.”

“I do,” you replied, sliding down his zipper. You got a peak of his green checkered boxers, and you smiled to yourself. “But I like hearing you say it.”

His grip on your roots loosened, and he smoothed his hand over your hair, casting a lovesick smile down at you. “You're the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen,” he murmured, bringing his thumb around to tug at your lower lip.

You dabbed your tongue against the pad of his finger before wrapping your lips around it, sucking it gently into the warmth of your mouth, the salty taste of his skin sparkling over your tongue.

“You're going to be the death of me,” he gruffed, watching you nurse his thumb with lust-fogged eyes, leaving a ring of red around his knuckle.

You grinned, pleased with yourself when he retracted his hand. As he shifted back, you moved forward, reaching for the throbbing ridge of his cock.

“You really want to do this?” He asked, looking around the empty tower. “Here?”

“Yes,” you replied immediately, saliva pooling under your tongue when his cock gave another lurch. “I really, really do.”

You were a physical kind of person, finding joy in giving and receiving touch, and all you could think about was making George feel good, making him happy, and showing him just how much you liked him.

“You're a wild little thing, you know that?” The end of the question twisted into a groan when you finally pulled him out of his boxers, hot and flushed a feverish pink, a string of precum dripping down the veiny shaft.

You licked your lips, wrapping your hand around his base. Fuck, he was thick. “Does that scare you?” You asked, dragging your hand up and down his length, applying the lightest pressure.

“Fuck yes, it scares me,” he panted, head falling back on his shoulders. “You scare the hell out of me.”

You tsked, running your tongue along the underside of him, and he shuddered, a whine eeking through his teeth. “I'm on my knees, George. How scary can I be?” You wrapped your lips around the head, tasting the musk of his skin, and sucked softly, tempering your eagerness to savor his reactions.

“Seven fucking saints, woman—fuck.” His hand fisted your hair again, practically trembling with the effort of not pushing you down further. “Have a little mercy.”

You started bobbing your head up and down, humming in approval at the way his cock kicked against your tongue. Lashes fluttering closed, you lost yourself in the feel of him, the soft sounds of pleasure spilling for his lips like prayers. Soothed by the rhythmic motions and pulse of his heart.

His hand moved for you hair to underneath your jaw, fingers stretched across to brace the span of it. “I wish I could take a picture of you,” he murmured, thumb stroking your cheek. “You look so fucking beautiful it hurts.”

Your eyes opened, looking up at him haloed in moonlight, cheeks flushed and chest heaving, eyes glossy as starshine. You knew that look. It was how people looked at the sunset, the full moon, the ocean. It was how people looked at things they adored, things they loved.

And George was looking at you like that.

You couldn't help yourself. You stood up, grabbing his stupid, beautiful, perfect face and crashing your lips to his. His arms enveloped you, hauling you into his chest as he kissed you deeper, his tongue stealing the taste of himself for your lips.

His hands slipped lower, hooking the backs of your thighs, and he stood, lifting you up into the air and wrapping your legs around his waist. Your back collided with the stone wall, the cold rock doing nothing to quell the heat blooming under your skin. Your lips never separated, and you moaned against his mouth when his cock grazed the thin barrier of your panties, practically non-existent in their dampened state.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he grated, one of his hands shifting so his finger could hook the gusset of your underwear.

“Don't stop—” you gasped when a rip echoed around the lofty space, and you felt the elastic of your underwear give way, tearing off your body. “George! Those were designer!” You cried, equal parts exasperated and wildly turned on.

He huffed a laugh, swiping the head of his cock through your drooling slit. “You're ridiculous,” he chuckled, voice laden with affection. “Ready, love?” He rested his forehead against yours.

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. “Please, baby.”

He smiled, pressing his lips to yours as he slowly speared you on his length, the stretch making you gasp as pleasure unspooled in your belly.

George groaned your name, sweet as honey, and your pussy clenched around him, dragging him that last inch into your heat. His lips moved down your neck, soothing you as he withdrew his hips, then thrust back into you, making you cry out.

“Feel so fucking perfect,” he panted against your throat, lifting and lowering you on his cock. “Fuck, you're so tight. Gonna ruin me.”

“George, shit—fuck me, please,” you begged, nails gauging holes in his poor sweater as you clung onto his shoulders.

He nodded, snapping his hips faster and faster, fucking you open. “Taking that cock so well, such a good girl f’me,” he growled, nipping at your throat when you keened a little too loudly, the sound echoing like a church bell around you. “If I'm ruined, so are you.”

He kissed you hard, teeth and tongues clashing as he pounded you up the wall, your body completely immobilized between him and the stone. His pelvis was creating just enough friction on your clit to have you seeing stars, and suddenly you were toppling over the edge—struck like lightning as your orgasm burned through you.

He devoured every one of your cries, not relenting for a second as you crumbled in his arms. “That's it, that's my fucking girl. You can give me one more, c’mon, rattlesnake,” he ordered, his thrusts growing sloppy as he approached his own release. “Can feel you tightening back up already, little cunt squeezing me so hard—go on, pretty girl, give it to me—”

Your cry of ecstasy cut him off, and your second orgasm dragged him over the edge, his thick cock bucking hard as he painted your spasming walls white. All you could see was stars, your entire body tingling with to force of it, pleasure sapping every ounce of strength and tension from your body.

Boneless, you slumped in his arms, trembling legs falling to the floor beneath you.

“Baby—babygirl, are you okay?” He asked, gently lowering you to the ground and bundling you into his lap.

“M'perfect,” you panted, lolling your head against his shoulder as your mind slowly pieces itself together, feeling starting to return to your fingers and toes.

He pressed kisses into your hair, cradling you protectively in his arms. “That was insane,” he chuckled, nuzzling into your shoulder. “I—you—fuck.”

You giggled, breathless. “That was insane.”

The clock tower rolled, rattling your teeth in your skull, and you clung a bit tighter to him, startled.

He shushed you, covering your ear with one hand and pressing the other to his chest, filling your mind with the steady thump thump thump of his heart.

You couldn't recall feeling safer than you do in that moment.

“That's curfew, love,” he said, disappointment clear in his voice.

You sighed as your heart sank, lifting your head and meeting his eyes. “I've never wanted to stay before,” you murmured, and his eyes melted, warm and dark as cocoa.

You didn't expect it to be this hard—having to leave him afterwards. But you wanted to linger in his arms, talk and cuddle, maybe doze off together, wake up too-warm and tangled in his sheets. Such simple, beautiful, impossible things. And you wanted them all with him.

“I wish we could,” he replied, tilting your chin up to peck your lips. “Merlin, I wish we could…”

“Draco would kill you,” you chuckled, tucking a stars of copper hair behind his ear.

“I can take that weasel.” George smirked, kissing you again.

You swatted his chest, giggling as his fingers tickled along your ribs, your chest glowing with joy. “That, I don't doubt.”

He sighed, pushing himself up and setting you on your feet. “Can I walk you to the stairs?” Some of his mirth seemed to ebb, sadness creeping back into his expression.

You stood on your toes to kiss his cheek. “I insist.”

He offered you his elbow and you looped your arm through his, walking together slowly down the stairs. At the bottom, you turned to face him.

“Goodnight, Georgie,” you said, hoping you don't sound as pitiful as you feel.

“Goodnight, darling.” He brought your knuckles to his lips, pressing a chaste kiss into your skin. “I'll see you tomorrow?”

You nodded, taking a few steps back, your fingers still clutched in his hand. “Tomorrow’s not so far, yeah?”

He gave you a half-smile, though it didn't meet his eyes. “Yeah.” His fingers finally released yours, and you felt like someone severed your arm from your body.

“Night, Georgie.” You blew him a kiss before hurrying down the hall, unable to bear the sadness in his eyes a second longer.

George's POV

George pushed his breakfast around his plate, staring a hole into the table in front of him. His friends talked excitedly around him, still amped about the match the day before, but George couldn't muster up the enthusiasm.

Going to bed without you the night before was one of the hardest things he'd done in recent memory. He stared at the ceiling for hours, replaying every second of the night, trying to memorize the way your body moved, the curve of your smile, and how it crumbled so gorgeously when you came for him. Not once, but twice.

The way you looked at him, like he'd hung the moon and stars, stuck in his chest like an arrow.

And now he found his gaze continually drifting to the entrance to he Great Hall, just waiting for you breeze through, well rested and untroubled.

Was this killing you the way it was killing him?

And why was it killing him?

It's not like he could be developing feelings for you, a Malfoy—

“George, what's up, mate?” Lee knocked his foot under the table, bringing him back to the present, and his friends all staring at him with mild concern.

George cleared his throat, straightening and shoving a bite of toast into his mouth. It tasted like cardboard. “Slept like shit, tweaked my back or something in the match,” he lied. Well, it wasn't entirely a lie. His back was sore, but from something infinitely more worthwhile than a match.

Did he really just think that? Fuck, what were you doing to him?

“Probably that rocket you sent at Malfoy,” Fred chuckled. “Too bad it didn't take his fucking head off right?”

They all whooped and hollered, high-fiving and jostling George.

“Guess my aim was off,” he shrugged, washing down the toast with a swig of orange juice. “You must be rubbing off on me, Freddie.”

The doors to the Great Hall swung open, and he saw Draco enter first, looking sullen and rotten as usual. You, brilliant, energetic you, came sauntering in behind him, arm and arm with Pansy as you laughed about something. The sound carried across the Hall, turning plenty of heads, but George looked back down at his plate, pretending your joy didn't light him up from the inside out.

He forced himself to join his friends conversation, if anything so he could keep his eyes moving, flitting back to you every few moments. You sat between your brother and Blaise, drinking a cup of tea and nibbling on a pastry.

Even from across the Hall, he could tell you weren't really listening to Draco. You had that same glassy-eyed look you got when Snape lectured in Potions, and George chuckled to himself.

His attention was broken when the owls came screeching in, letters and packages and feathers raining down on every table. Errol dropped a letter in front of Fred before landing clumsily on the table. The envelope was addressed to the four siblings and Harry.

Fred tore it open, waving Ginny, Ron, and Harry over from a few seats down, and began reading their parents typical weekly update.

But then, a booming shout echoed across the Hall, making the candles overhead flicker and extinguish, and a hush fell over the students.

“Someone’s got a howler,” Fred whispered, setting their own letter down.

“YOU DARE DISOBEY YOUR BROTHER AND VENTURE AROUND THE CASTLE UNACCOMPANIED!”

George immediately recognized the voice, his blood running cold.

Lucius Malfoy.

You sat curled into your self, staring wide eyed at the paper replica of your father's face hovering in front of you. George's heart cracked when he saw you bite your lower lip to keep it from trembling.

“YOU REPRESENT THE HOUSE OF MALFOY AND YOU WILL BEHAVE ACCORDINGLY. IF I HEAR OF YOUR INSUBORDINATION AGAIN, YOU ARE COMING STRAIGHT HOME!”

George very nearly stormed over there, fingers itching to rip the paper-Lucius apart, but then it burst into green flame, startling you to your feet.

The Great Hall was silent, Lucius’ voice ringing in everyone's ears, all eyes on you.

Draco stood with you, tried to take your hand, but you shook him off.

“How could you?!” You cried, angry tears rolling down your cheeks. George almost thought you were going to slap him, but then you turned on your heel, storming out of the Great Hall and slamming the doors closed behind you.

Immediately, conversation exploded, the gossip mill already turning.

“What the fuck was that about?” Lee said, turning back to the group.

“Daddy's little princess has fallen from her tower,” Fred joked, and George grit his teeth, anger simmering in his chest.

He watched and waited for Draco to get up and follow you, for any of your “friends” to go check on you, but none of them moved a muscle. Turning their attention back to their breakfast like nothing at all happened.

It made his stomach turn.

Should he go to you? Sit here and defend you? Play along with everyone else—no, he couldn't do that. Throttle Draco for snitching on you? That he could do. He'd just have to pretend it was for some other reason. But he could do that later. Right now, you needed him.

He reached farther than necessary for an orange, and cried out in pretend pain, clutching his back.

“Shit, man. Maybe you should go to Pomfry,” Fred said, concern flashing across his face.

George didn't have it in him to feel guilty for lying. “Yeah, yeah I think I will,” he said, pretending to wince as he straightened.

“Need me to walk with you?” Fred offered.

“Nah, I'm good. Some salve should take care of it. I'll see you later at practice,” George said, clapping his brother on the shoulder and waving to his friends before limping out of the Great Hall.

As soon as the doors closed behind him, he straightened, bolting down the corridor.

Where would you be?

He tried the closest girls lavatories, empty classrooms, broom closets, searching every alcove for you, until finally, it dawned on him.

He booked it to the library, probably failing at looking inconspicuous, but he was past caring. Aisle after aisle, he navigated the empty library until it spit him out by the corner the two of you studied in. And there you were, curled up under the window with your arms around your knees, head tucked down.

“Hey, love,” he said softly, not wanting to startle you. You startled anyways, something he was starting to realize you did often.

You relaxed when you realized it was him. “Hey,” you sniffled, wiping your cheeks, eyes puffy and bloodshot.

“Can I sit?” He asked, gesturing to the floor beside you.

You nodded, and he lowered himself down beside you, legs stretched out in front of him. He wasn't sure if you wanted to be touched, but then you leaned into him, a flower tilting towards the sun, and his heart melted. He draped an arm over your shoulders, tucking you into his side.

“I'm sorry, baby,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your head. “Howlers suck.”

“I'm not upset about the Howler,” you said, voice barely above a whisper.

His brow furrowed. “No?”

You shook your head. “Draco was supposed to protect me, but instead he—” your voice caught in your throat, a hiccuping sob emerging instead. “He went behind my back and told father—we never tell father.”

George rubbed your back, trying to soothe you as the tears started again, soaking into his shirt. He wasn't very good in these situations, his own family sucked at emotional vulnerability, but he wanted desperately to take away your hurt. It was so strange to see his bold, outspoken girl curled into yourself like this.

He hated every second of it.

“Did Draco admit it was him?” George asked, perturbed that he was in a position to potentially defend Draco. But if it made you feel better…

“No, but who else?” You asked, picking your head up to look at him.

He swiped away your tears with his thumb. “Could have been one of his goons, Snape…”

“Snape?” You raised an incredulous eyebrow.

Your surprise…surprised him. “Yes?” He replied, mimicking your brow lift. “That's exactly the kind of thing he would do.”

“Why?”

George opened his mouth, then closed it. Did you really not know? How couldn’t you?

“Because he's a Death Eater, y/n,” George said, trying to keep his voice measured. “And friendly with your father.”

You blinked, clearly taken aback. “He is? Snivellus?”

George snorted in disbelief. “Yes. Death Eaters are everywhere, even Hogwarts. The Ministry too…”

“Wait—you're being serious?”

“Yes, baby. I'm being serious. It's—there's a war brewing.” He was completely shocked. He knew you were sheltered, possibly a bit naive, but you were too smart to be this unaware.

Unless, of course, you'd been lied to.

He could beat your father to death with that fucking cane. Keeping you in the dark like this was dangerous. How were you supposed to protect yourself if you didn't know what the threat was?

You looked away from him, face screwed up in consternation. “I mean, I know my family’s reputation, and that…he might be back. And I’ve heard some things in the halls, and in the Daily Prophet…but that's just a rag, right?” You looked up at him, so hopeful that he'd tell you everything was okay, that things weren’t as precarious as he was implying, and he understood a little more why your family kept you in the dark.

Even though he knew he should, he just couldn't bring himself to dash that glimmer of hope.

He tucked you back into the safety of his side, kissing the crown of your head. “It's a rag, love.” Not completely a lie. The Prophet had certainly spread enough bullshit about his family that he knew first-hand how untrustworthy it was. “And things are tense right now, but Hogwarts is safe, okay? You're safe.” Also not completely a lie. As long as Dumbledore was in the castle, you were mostly safe…mostly.

You nodded, hands curling into his shirt, and his chest ached with guilt.

He should have known you didn’t understand the severity of the situation. If you did, you probably wouldn’t be here, cuddled into his side in the first place. You probably would have never looked his way at all.

But he knew, and he looked. He allowed things to progress, encouraged it even. He knew that the rift between your family was more than just politics, was more than a class divide, and he still didn’t stop this.

His head thunked back against the wall, and he peered down at you, your breathing evening out, body warm against him, and knew that he still wasn’t willing to end things with you. Because you weren’t Lucius. You weren’t Draco. You weren’t a Death Eater.

You were just a girl, caught up in a war started by the people in power long before either of you existed, and just happened to be born on the opposite side as himself. He couldn’t fault you for that, especially not after knowing your own family had been lying to you about their role in it.

He should tell you the truth, even if it hurt you, even if it made you hate him—it was the right thing to do. But every time he went to open his mouth, the words died in his throat.

The day would come where your heart would have to break, and he prayed that it wouldn’t have to be him that delivered the blow. But, today wasn’t that day.

So, he held you tighter, dried your tears, and bit his tongue.

Thank you for reading!

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[soulofapatrick]

Amortentia - Theodore Nott x Reader

Summary: You brew Amortentia and it leads somewhere you didn't ever expect Words: 1.7k Warnings: none really Notes: I am alive I promise, been really busy as we're getting ready to move house

Y/N’s POV

Amortentia. The most powerful love potion in the world. The way many people find their partners in Hogwarts and the most exciting class of the year. Everyone is buzzing around, whispering and giggling with their friends about the vial sat on Professor Slughorn’s desk, left completely unguarded. I take on glance at the shimmering blue liquid and cringe a little before finding the closest seat to the door, throwing my bag on the floor after pulling out the Potions book. 

“Hey Y/N,” Harry slides into the seat beside me with his signature unruly black hair and this bright green eyes that seem to hold a hint of mischief and determination, and a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. He wears his Gryffindor uniform somewhat neatly, his tie slightly askew adding to this charm.

Ron isn’t far behind, grumbling about the upcoming lesson. His fiery red hair is as untameable as ever, and his freckled face displaying nothing but annoyance as he throws his arms over mine and Harry’s shoulders and letting his knees buckle while pretending to swoon, “Oh Theodore, my love, it youuuuuu-“ 

“Oh shut up!” I push his arm off my shoulders and he falls with a cry of surprise, Harry trying to catch him but ending up letting Ron fall to snigger behind his hand, “You’re probably going to fall head over heels for Snape… oh Snape, oh how I love thee Sn-“ 

“Alright, let’s begin this lesson shall we?” Professor Slughorn comes breezing in, not as well as Snape as he’s just too happy for that. Ron squeezes my shoulder before he slinks off to sit in one of the only spaces next to Neville who looks like he would rather be anywhere else. 

As the lesson commences, Slughorn goes over the instructions and safety precautions for handling Amortentia. The excitement in the room is palpable as we prepare to brew the potent love potion. The air is filled with a mix of anticipation and trepidation, but I find myself feeling grateful for Harry taking over, using his special edition of the potions book that is full of scribbles and notes presumably making the potion better. The simmering cauldrons and swirling concoctions coming together creates an almost enchanting atmosphere, the scents in the air shifting and blending, giving the room an ethereal quality. 

A figure appears over my shoulder, surprise and curiosity coursing through my veins when I recognise that familiar scent of oranges, honeycomb and something darker like amber which can mean only one thing: Theodore Nott is standing behind me. His calm and composed demeanour a little intimidating as I don’t think I’ve ever seen him actually smile more than a very small lift of the corner of his lips. Oh his lips, so plump and flush and-

“How’s the potion going Mouse? Have you blown up-“ He stops abruptly, leaving forwards over my shoulder and taking a very deep breath, causing me to stumble a little over the response I was trying to formulate. His voice is low and husky, sending shivers down my spine at the nickname he calls me. 

“Um, it’s, uh, it’s coming along.” I manage to stammer rout, feeling my cheeks heat up, “Haven’t blown anything up… yet.” 

Theodore’s lips quirk upward ever so slightly, and I catch a glimpse of what could be a hint of amusement. He leans in a little closer, and I can feel the warmth of his breath against my skin, sending more shivers down my spine, but it’s a delicious kind nervousness, a feeling I can’t quite put into words. Before I can fully process the situation, Theodore buries his nose in the crook of my neck, taking a deep breath. My heart pounds in my chest so loud I’m sure Ron can hear it from across the room, and time seems to slow down. The scents of oranges, honeycomb and amber envelops us, creating an intimate and intoxicating moment. 

I can hardly believe that Theodore, the stoic and straight-faced Slytherin, is here, so close to me, and that he’s showing this level of vulnerability. His actions are unexpected but oh so incredibly thrilling. I dare to steal a glance at his face, and I’m met with a sight I’ve never seen before - a softness in his expression, a hint of something more than his usual guarded demeanour. It’s as if he’s letting down his walls, revealing a side of himself he rarely shows to anyone. 

My heart races, and I find myself yearning for more of this closeness, more of this connection. It’s like a spell has been cast, and I’m under Theodore’s enchantment. The excitement and nervousness intertwine, and I feel a sense of wonder at the unexpected turn of events, how close he is to me. I can feel his breath ghosting over my lips, knowing that I could just lean forwards ever so slightly and close the near non-existence space between us. The smell of oranges, honeycomb and amber suddenly gets so intense I have to grab the edge of the table and Theodore’s forearm. 

“Aha! We did it!” Harry exclaims, breaking the moment and has Theodore pulling back. Theodore’s eyes meet mine, and I see a spark of something familiar and yet different. The air between us crackles with unspoken words, emotions swirling around us like the brewing potions in the classroom.

“Oh god.” I choke out and I think Theodore actually smiles for the first time, the corner of his lips tilting up into more of a smile than he’s ever shown before, “Wh-what do you smell Teddy?”

He leans in once more, his nose brushing against my collarbone and neck. His closeness sends a shiver of anticipation down my spine. And then, he presses a soft, gentle kiss to my jaw, sending shockwaves of sensation through me. It’s a sweet, tender touch that leaves me breathless. 

“You.” He whispers, his voice barely audible,  but the impact of his words reverberates within me. The world seems to stand still, and my heart swells with emotion. 

Theodore Tiberius Nott, the guarded and enigmatic Slytherin, had just confessed, in his own subtle way, that he feels something for me. My cheeks flush with a. Mixture of excitement and disbelief. It’s a moment I never thought I’d experience - being so close to Theodore, sharing this intimate connection, and hearing him express his feelings in such a heartfelt manner. In the heart-stopping moment, I can see the turmoil of emotions playing across his face. His eyes meet mine with a mixture of vulnerability and determination. And then, without warning, he mumbles a single phrase that sets my heart racing even faster. 

“Fuck it,” he whispers, and before I can process his intent, his hand cups my jaw, and he draws me up into a kiss. It’s a surprise, but the moment our lips meet, it’s as if everything falls into place. 

The kiss is soft yet intense, filled with all the emotions that words can’t express. It feels like an explosion of passion and longing, an unspoken confession that’s now imprinted on our lips. Theodore’s lips are warm and inviting, and I respond with equal fervour, my heart soaring with joy and disbelief. Time seems to stand still, and the air crackles with the intensity of our shared emotions. It's a kiss that speaks volumes, a revelation of hidden desires and unspoken feelings. All the walls Theodore had erected to guard his heart have crumbled, and in this magical moment, he bares himself to me in the most intimate way. 

Just as the world around us seems to disappear in the enchantment of the moment, reality crashes back in with an unexpected interruption. Ron, being the protective and ever-observant twin brother, appears out of nowhere and is shoving Theodore away from me. 

“Hey! That’s my sister!” Ron’s voice is filled with shock and indignation, “You can’t just go around kissing my sister!” 

“Ron!” I can’t help but practically facepalm at him as he’s… he’s being Ron, “Shove off,” I reach around Ron and manage to get a grip on Theodore’s sleeve enough to pull him back over to me. Ron's protectiveness is well-intentioned, but I can't let it ruin the magical moment that Theodore and I just shared. 

“I’m not… She’s safe with me, I promise.” Theodore's words are reassuring, and I can see the sincerity in his eyes as he speaks. Despite his usual stoic demeanour, there's a tenderness in his touch as he holds my hand, a silent declaration of his feelings for me. 

“I trust him.” I say firmly, giving my brother a pleading look. Ron just looks torn for a moment, clearly struggling between his protective instincts and his trust in me. But then, he takes a deep breath and nods reluctantly. 

“Fine.” His says, his voice gruff but accepting, “But if he hurts you in any way, he’ll have me to deal with.” Ron eyes him warily but eventually takes a step back, giving us some space. ”Just remember, Y/N, he's a Slytherin," Ron says, his protective tone still evident.

"He's more than just his house," I reply, trying to convey the depth of my feelings for Theodore.

Ron studies me for a moment before he finally relents. ”Fine," he says, "But don't say I didn't warn you.”

With that, Ron turns and walks away, leaving Theodore and me standing there, still holding hands. I let out a sigh of relief, grateful that Ron didn't push the matter further. 

“Ahhhh young love.” Slughorn’s voice floats across the room , filled with warmth and nostalgia, and I do the only thing I can: bury my face in Theodore’s sweater, feeling a laugh rumble in his chest. 

“Indeed.” Theodore says, his voice laced with amusement as he wraps his arms around me in a gentle embrace. Slughorn giving us an indulgent smile before continuing with the class. The room seeming to take on a different atmosphere now, one that’s tinged with a newfound sweetness and magic. The shimmering cauldrons and swirling potions seem to mirror the emotions swirling within me, and I can’t help but realise how cliche this is. Expressing our feelings for each other during the lesson on amortentia… 

“I’ll wait for you after class.” Theodore murmurs, kissing my forehead then my cheek before untangling himself from my embrace before heading back to his seat next to a predictably sneering Draco Malfoy. 

“What just happened?’ I ask Harry, a little dazed still, his green eyes sparkling with amusement. 

“I’m not actually sure.” 

-----------

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