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eunoiaflow3r · 28 days ago

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better than the books - ron weasley

requests open! please send some!

warning(s): language(?), smut, unedited, rushed ending

word count: 1.8k

request(ed): yes. “one day ron & harry are visiting hermione & reader in their dorm, where the girls are on hermione‘s bed, reading. reader‘s wearing the school uniform with a short skirt and when ron & harry come into the room they have a direct view of readers clothed pussy, because the skirt is so short. harry & ron are very flustered & ron can already feel the boner coming. harry takes this chance & says that him & hermione have to go get something & that ron & reader just stay here until they come back. idk how but somehow smut ensues where he’s fucking her soooo good & hard”

changed the request a bit but more or less the same lol.

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Ron almost couldn’t, no wouldn’t, well, didn’t want to, look away. You just looked so pretty. He and Harry had just come from the common room where they were playing games with Neville. After a few hours of it, they grew weary and thought of no better idea than to come bother the two of you. That was no small feat, of course, they had to do some sneaking and snooping as boys weren’t allowed in the girls’ dorms - but, sneaking was their specialty.

Now he was regretting it. You were sat on your bed, in a tight cami that hugged your torso - more specifically your breasts, where you wore no bra, and had short shorts on that left little to nothing to the imagination. Your smooth legs were pulled up so that your knees were in front of your chest, and you were reading a book that was laid lazily on the top of your knees. Your feet were tucked under the covers, but after no serious inspection there was no doubt that you weren’t wearing any panties.

Ron wanted to groan where he stood. There was no reason you had to look so good. He looked over to Harry. He wasn’t seeing what he was seeing. He was too busy arguing with Hermione about who knows what. That didn’t matter right now. He walked over and sat on the edge of your bed careful not to shift the blanket away from your feet. He knows how you get about your feet being cold - even though you didn't bother with socks at the moment. From this angle, he could see the way your knees pushed against your breasts making them perkier and bigger. He wished he could just reach out and touch them - feel the softness under his fingers. When he sat, you shifted to make room leaving him with a quick view of your hardened nipples. No doubt from the slight breeze in the room.

Ron felt like he was going to faint if he didn’t get this out of his system…and soon.

”How’s your book y/n?” He asks.

Unlike Hermione, the books you read were anything but educational and filled with knowledge. Most of the time they were pure sin on paper. Other times it was teeth rotting sweetness that would make any girl swoon to her knees. Right now, you were reading something that had a little bit of both with just a little more of that sin. You would never admit that to Ron though. I mean, how could you? It’s sort of embarrassing. What would he think if you knew you were reading such things? And what would he think if he knew that when you read the words on those pages…you were really thinking about him?

So you pivot. You close the book quickly and shove it under the pillow next to you.

”Nothing! I mean…nothing interesting…just science.”

“What's scientific about “Passions Promise?”

Fuck. He saw the title. You look over to Harry and Hermione and could see them talking. Much different than the bickering they were doing moments before. You couldn’t really hear what they were saying - they were being unusually quiet, but before you could attempt to eavesdrop or question them, they were getting themselves up and readying to leave.

“Hey!” You nearly leap out of bed - eager to put some distance between you and Ron. “Where are you guys going?”

When you got up, your shorts shifted so that he caught a quick glimpse of what was underneath. And not sure how possible, he was even harder than he was before. Unbeknownst to you, Harry shot Ron a wink before escaping through the door - luckily escaping your interrogation. You didn’t know it yet, but he was doing you a favor. He and Hermione were both sick of the two of you. The awkwardness, the tension. All because you couldn’t admit your feelings.

“Oh you know, we’re just taking a stroll. I’m hungry. Harry’s hungry. We’re going to go find something to eat.”

”But you hate sneaking around at night.”

”Well, yes, yeah, I know. If anything I won’t go much further than the common room. We’ll see, and we’ll be back.”

”But -“ Before you could finish she shut the door in your face and left you alone.

Well, not quite alone.

Ron watches as you turn around and loves the look on your face when you notice what he has in his hands. “Passions Promise.” He watches you take a step forward towards him and can’t help admire your body on the way over. Even though he could tell you were probably embarrassed and that just made him even more giddy. And horny. The things he would do to have you under him right now.

You were horrified. And he was smug. You could tell.

”Her body was on fire, his fingertips lit a blaze amongst her skin she had never felt with any man before. He pressed kisses down her stomach she swore could make her cum had he continued -“

”Ron!” You exclaimed cutting him off. You tried to snatch the book from him and found yourself between his legs while he held it over his head and away from you. Even though you had the height advantage, he was stronger. So so strong. That’s one of the things that turns you on about him. You know if he wanted to, he could have you off of him and away from the book in a second. But he wasn’t…he was playing a game.

You stopped trying to fight against him. It was no use. You were out of breath and so was he. His cheeks were a rosy color and his lips were puffed and bitten from trying to hold you back. He does that a lot. Bites his lip. It drives you crazy.

He looks at you and it’s as if his eyes are saying a million things his mouth aren’t. And boy did you wanna hear what his mouth had to say. You wanted to feel it too.

As soon as he walked into the room pajama pants low, sweater a bit baggy on his arms, and his hair disheveled in the way you loved - you wanted to jump his bones. He was the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen - and he didn’t even know how handsome he was.

You felt as his hand - warm and comforting, made its way to the back of your thigh and pulled you forward. You took that as a hint to place both of your knees on either side of his waist and straddle him. He helped you get comfortable and you felt his hands wander.

Ron was in heaven. The girl of his dreams was in his lap and he honestly didn’t have any thought to be nervous. He just wanted you. His hands made his way up and down your thighs until finally he felt comfortable enough to grab your ass and squeeze. He smiled when he heard you softly moan. He could feel your hands playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“So is that what you want Y/n?”

”What?”

He brings one of his hands to your stomach lightly massaging the area.

”Kisses down your stomach you swear could make you cum?”

”Ron…”

He started kissing your neck and he could feel as you started to grind against him.

Why have you guys never done this before? Why did he wait so long?

He made his way down your neck and then down your chest. He started sucking a spot onto the top of your breast he knew would leave a mark but he didn’t care

“Tell me Y/N…”

“Yes Ron, please.”

And honestly, that’s all he needed before he stood up with you in his arms and laid you on your back. He kissed you - it was hot and sweet and feverish. He went back to trying to kiss his way down but you had other plans.

You can admit that you were a little impatient. You had waited so long for this the foreplay was the anticipation of you two finally being able to do this. Your hands went down to find the waistband of his pants and he bucked forwards once he felt your hand accidentally, or not so accidentally brushing his dick.

He helped you take them off and went to kiss you before grinding himself against you. Your shorts were long gone. You both moaned at the contact. You needed more.

“Please Ron, please just fuck me.”

“Yes ma’am.”

As he pulls down his underwear you grab a condom from your bedside drawer. He raises his eyebrows at you cheekily but takes it. You watch as he rolls it on and your mouth waters. He was big, curved and just…perfect.

You pull him down to your for a kiss by his neck and he kisses you as he lines himself up with your entrance. He prods as if asking for permission and you nod. You both moan when he’s fully inside and before you know it he has a rhythm going and he’s hitting that spot inside of you. This was better than any words on paper or scenario you could imagine.

This was real, this was tangible. What you’ve wanted for so long was finally happening. It felt so good that you never wanted it to stop. His moans were like music to your ears and you started to think of things you could do just so you could hear them again.

There wasn’t a prettier picture to Ron then what was under him. Well, who was under him. He swore he would love to see your beautiful face twisted up in pleasure for the rest of his life, as long as he was the one who could always pleasure you.

His hand trailed down to your clit which caused you to squeeze around him tighter. He nearly came on the spot but he wanted to wait until you came first.

You were shaking. The penetration plus the stimulations was just too much for you to handle and quickly you were cumming around his dick.

“Fuck, Ron, please fuck I’m cumming.”

“It’s okay baby let it go. Cum for me.”

You came and felt as Ron gently pulled out to cum as well. If you weren’t so tired you’d make a move to cover up but, you were properly fucked out.

Once Ron caught his breath he found your shorts and helped slide them back onto you.

“You’re so beautiful Y/N.”

“Shut up.”

He smiles to himself and gets himself situated as well. Before he could talk to you and and try and discuss where you guys stood now, the door was creaking open and Fred, Harry, and Hermione were coming through.

“God it reeks of sex in here what on Earth -“ Fred starts before eyeing you and Ron. “Oh finally I was starting to think you didn’t have the balls Ronny boy I -“

Ron leaps up and starts to push Fred out of the room.

“Alright that’s enough of that everyone! Show’s over. Y/N, I will see you tomorrow love and I’m expecting a recap of that wonderful novel of yours. We can talk about what it all means -“

“Or maybe reenact what it all means.” Fred interrupts cheekily.

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junezsq · 2 months ago

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nice to meet ya

harry james potter x fem!reader

summary: your first day after transferring to hogwarts is up to a good start when a certain black haired boy can't stop staring at you

warnings: none really? maybe first day nerves, does this count? lol

word count: 1.3k

a/n: maturing means realising harry is underrated in his own series. i was genuinely shocked by how few harry fics there are so decided to take matters into my own hands. here's the beginning to a whirlwind of a love story, enjoy! x

── ᵎᵎ ✦

before daring to enter the great hall of hogwarts for the first time you took a moment to observe the scene playing out in front of you. the grandeur of it all was slightly overwhelming — the enchanted ceiling stretching above like a sky full of clouds, the long tables brimming with students, and the shimmering candles floating in mid-air. a weird mix of excitement and nervousness started swirling around in your stomach.

starting as a third-year transfer, you were aware that the curious glances from some students, the quiet whispers of “new girl,” and the subtle judgment that often accompanies a fresh face were bound to follow you for the upcoming days — maybe even weeks. despite this, the warmth of the hall was undeniable. the voices of fellow students, the laughter, and clinking of cutlery, almost made it feel like home — even if it was a place you'd only just arrived at.

there was something magical about the space, something comforting, like a promise that this would soon be your place, too. the smells of the breakfast feast filled your senses, making your stomach growl.

you glanced down at the crimson and gold fabric of your tie, signifying the house you were sorted in only a moment earlier. your fingers brushed over the edges of the tie as you took a deep breath, feeling uncertainty rise, but you knew that if you'd linger too long, you would only feel more out of place.

with a quiet sigh, you tucked your hair behind your ears. you glanced at the gryffindor table, and after a brief hesitation you took the first step towards your future.

seated somewhere in the middle of the gryffindor table, harry, hermione, and ron were in the midst of their breakfast; the table was littered with plates of scrambled eggs, toast, and bacon.

ron, toast in hand, glanced up from his plate, it was then that he noticed you walking through the massive doors leading to the great hall. "isn't that the new girl?" he asked through a mouthful of food, "i heard she just arrived this morning."

hermione, who was sat across the red haired, looked up in curiosity. “she’s a transfer, i think." she murmured, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "i believe she used to go to beauxbatons."

ron tilted his head, watching you intently as you adjusted your tie. “do you think she’s... i dunno, nervous?” he asked. “this place is massive. i’d be proper lost if i was new here.” he glanced at harry, "i mean, we actually did get lost, remember, first year?"

harry, who was sat next to hermione and had been quietly eating, glanced at you as well. his eyes followed your movement as you slowly walked along the gryffindor table — obviously trying to find an empty spot — and his empathy kicked in with a brief tug of understanding. “it’s probably hard, starting a new school in the middle of the year,” he said quietly. “i wouldn’t want to be in her shoes.”

ron sighed, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. “i know i wouldn’t. wonder if she’s looking for somewhere to sit... we could—”

“ron, don’t be daft,” hermione cut in gently, though there was a kind smile on her face. “she’ll find her way. besides, she might not want to sit with us just yet.”

the red haired grumbled but nodded in agreement, and while he returned to their breakfast, harry couldn’t help but keep a sidelong glance on you, curious about what your story was.

as you made your way along the great hall, you felt the weight of a pair of eyes on you. when you looked around, trying to find who they belonged to, your own eventually fell on the boy with messy jet-black hair. you could sense the quiet curiosity in his look, the way his eyes lingered just a moment too long before flicking away.

your heart beat a little faster, and with a deep breath, you made a decision. instead of shying away, you slightly fastened your pace towards where they were sat.

meanwhile, across the hall, ron’s voice rang out loud enough for hermione and harry to hear, not having noticed you were now heading in their direction. “so, what d’you reckon happened with her sorting? she's in gryffindor judging by her tie.” he asked, taking a dramatic bite of a sausage.

hermione shot him a slightly exasperated look. “ron, you’re not still on about that, are you?”

ron, however, was already getting into his own theories, grinning widely. “what, i’m just saying! i bet the hat had a real hard time deciding where to put her. probably because she's already got a few years of school experience. it’s got to be tough.”

harry, still a little distracted by you, especially since you were now making your way toward them, gave his friend an absent minded nod.

ron continued, oblivious to harry’s distracted expression. “maybe it was, like, really close between gryffindor and slytherin. could you imagine? the sorting hat probably tried to put her in slytherin first, but she was like, ‘no way! no way am i going there.’ which i completely understand, by the way.”

hermione raised an eyebrow. “really, ron?”

ron leaned in slightly closer, “or maybe,” he said dramatically, “the sorting hat was just so impressed with her bravery that it just had to put her in gryffindor. It could’ve been like, ‘you’ve got the guts to stand up for yourself — gryffindor it is!’” he looked up at hermione, beaming as though he’d cracked the case.

at that moment, you had reached their table. ron looked up, finding hermione with her lips pressed together — as if she was trying to hold in her laughter — and harry whose focus had shifted to somewhere behind him. with his mouth still half full of food, ron's eyes widened in realization. “oh — she’s behind me isn't she?” he muttered to the others, a little stunned by how quickly the conversation had shifted from theory to reality.

"surprise." you gave a small, somewhat shy smile. “this is the gryffindor table, right?” you asked, your voice quiet but clear.

ron, still a little flustered, blinked at you, momentarily forgetting his elaborate sorting tale. “oh, yeah! yeah, it is. you’re the new girl, right?”

hermione gave ron a harsh glance before looking up at you, her expression suddenly kind, “you can sit with us,” she said warmly. “we’re all in gryffindor. i’m hermione, by the way.”

you were slightly taken aback at her kindness, but sat down next to ron either way. hermione motioned to her two friends, "this is harry, and ron."

"nice to meet you." you spoke softly, glancing at ron before letting your eyes fall on harry. the pair of eyes that had followed you earlier still had a sense of curiosity to them, and you couldn't help but stare at him as a small smile formed on his lips, "nice to meet you, too."

ron spoke with a grin, causing you to snap your attention away from the boy in front of you, “don’t mind my stories about the sorting hat. i tend to make them up as i go along.”

you couldn’t help but laugh at that, "you weren't too wrong, it told me it could sense my bravery the moment i stepped into dumbledore's office." you shrugged, grabbing a strawberry, "whatever that's supposed to mean?"

a mischievous grin crept upon your lips as ron looked at you with wide eyes. the tension in your shoulders seemed to ease just a little. maybe hogwarts wasn’t going to be so intimidating after all.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

SOUNDTRACK // nice to meet ya, niall horan

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chuulyssa · 11 months ago

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men who cling onto you like theres no tomorrow. you're cooking dinner? hes backhugging you like a little sloth. you're working? hes sitting on your lap no matter how heavy he is. you've been away from him for two minutes? get ready to be spam called for the next 2 hours. theres no defining how obsessed he is with your presence. you're his oxygen, the light of his life. without your attention, hes pouty and snappy, like a little kitten without its master. no matter where you are or what time is it, hes clinging onto your arm. oh, what was that? you want him to walk properly because the people at the clothing store are staring? too bad then, you've got to deal with it.

DAZAI chuuya ranpo NIKOLAI matt GOJO geto SIRIUS BLACK ron weasley JAMES POTTER + add more

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mssorceressupreme · 2 months ago

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Our Deal | F.W

———

Pairing: Fred Weasley x hufflepuff!reader (works for any house really, except gryffindor for story purpose)

Summary: stuck in detention with Fred for a prank you never did, grants you the deal of a lifetime. Fred would help you get with your crush, Oliver Wood, and you get him with his, Gabriella Moon, in time for the Yule Ball. Though, as you spend more time teaching each other how to "flirt", complicated feelings start to arise.

Warnings/content: hufflepuff!reader, subtle enemies to lovers, mutual pining, jealous!fred, protective!fred, jealous!reader, mentions of alcohol, parties, quidditch injury, injured!reader, tension, flirting, kissing, teasing, Yule Ball

Wordcount: 6.8k (got carried away and kinda wrote a mini fic 😭🙏🏼)

———

“This is entirely your fault,” you snapped, bending down to scrub at the sticky residue on the stone floor. “I had nothing to do with that prank.” The potions storage room air reeked with the scent of something foul, probably from whatever concoction had spilled from the shelves earlier today. All thanks to that stupid explosion caused by none other than the twin's prank just outside the room.

You gestured around at the remnants of the prank—green goo still dripping from the shelves, a set of abandoned dungbombs rolling near the base of Snape’s desk. Crossing your arms, you huffed as you glared at Fred, who was leaning against the wall with that insufferable smirk, clearly enjoying your misery.

Fred chuckled, tossing a sponge into the air and catching it lazily. “Yeah, yeah, tell that to Snape. You just happened to be there, hands covered in fluorescent goo, looking guilty as hell, which might I add, doesn't help with your case.”

“I was cleaning up the mess, Fred, not causing it” you gritted out, shoving the bucket closer to him. “Unlike you, who just stood there laughing while George ran for his life.”

Fred grinned, bending down to soak his sponge in water. “Ah, Georgie. Quick on his feet, that one. Maybe you should take notes for next time.”

Lucky for George, he managed to escape Snape's fury, leaving the stupendous detention task of reorganising and cleaning the entire potions storage room to the two of you.

“There won’t be a next time because I don’t do pranks,” you retorted. “Unlike some people.”

Fred gasped, pausing from squeezing the water out of his sponge, “No pranks? No mischief? Merlin, what a dull existence.”

You scowled, but your lips twitched. “Not all of us live for chaos.”

“You sure? Because you seem to enjoy my company a lot for someone who claims to be innocent,” he teased, turning his attention to scrubbing the fluorescent goop from the floor.

“Oh, shush If I weren’t such a good person, I’d leave this room right now and tell Snape about the other pranks you and George are planning.”

Fred turned to face you, holding back a doubtful laugh as he momentarily stopped scrubbing, “You wouldn't dare, Y/L/N.” his tone sprinkled with a hint of mockery.

You rolled your eyes, dipping your sponge back into the murky water. “Unfortunately you're right.”

He raised an eyebrow, amused. “Because you secretly like me?”

“Because I’m not a snitch,” you corrected smugly. ____ An hour later, you were balancing on a stool, reaching for a jar of pickled salamander eyes while Fred stacked vials below. You glanced down at him, waiting for him to pass you more vials for the higher shelves.

A small played on his lips, Fred exhaled softly before handing you another vial, “Alright, since I do feel a tiny bit bad about dragging you into this, I’ll make it up to you.”

You raised your brow suspiciously. “How?”

Fred’s smirk returned. “The Yule Ball's coming up, right? I’ll help you get with whoever you want."

"In return, you promise not to rat me out about, oh, I don’t know, the prank in the Great Hall last week. Or the one from two days ago in McGonagall’s class. Or the—" He continued but you interjected swiftly.

Your eyes widened slightly, finally registering what he just offered. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious,” he said, placing another vial on one of the lower shelves. “You name the bloke, and I’ll be your personal matchmaking genius.”

"You're kidding." You pressed your lips together, skeptical.

"Am not." He affirmed, "Go on, the look on your face says you have someone in mind Y/N."

A slow grin spread across your face, but you hesitated. "No one in mind." You shrugged.

Fred folded his arms, eyeing you up and down before tilting his head to the side, "I'm sensing...someone....taller than you?" Yeah, no kidding.

Without thinking you retorted, "Yeah obviously he's taller than me." Your hands flew at the speed of light to cover your mouth while turning to face away from Fred.

You hoped to hide your flushness, but you ended up losing your balance on the stool in the process. "Merlin, don't tell me you're quite literally falling for him." Fred quickly held your waist, steadying you before you could meet the ground. You grabbed his shoulder for support before adjusting yourself and returning to your respective task of arranging the vials on the upper shelf. You hadn't planned on telling anyone about your secret crush on Oliver Wood, but here you were, letting these words slip aimlessly out of your mouth.

Fred took your silence as an answer, curiosity lingering in the air.

"Ah, so there is someone on your mind." He pressed, "And who’s the unfortunate sod you fancy?"

You paused, feeling the heat of his gaze from below, "Oliver Wood..." You mumbled all too softly; even the house elves, with their sharp hearing abilities, wouldn't be able to decipher what you said.

Exhaling, you got down from the stool, standing in front of Fred and avoiding eye contact at all costs. He took slow tentative steps toward you, bending down to your level so he could hear, "Come again?" You could feel his breath on your skin.

Your eyes found his, not registering how close he was, "Oliver Wood." Your face tainted a light shade of red.

Fred choked on air, a loud chortle escaped him, "Wood? The Gryffindor Captain, Mr. ‘Quidditch is My One True Love’?"

"Shut up," you mumbled, heat rising to your cheeks. You placed a hand on his chest and shoved him away playfully, "Don't tell anyone! I'll vanish off the face of this earth if you do."

Fred laughed, shaking his head. “Blimey, you’ve got high standards.”

“I barely know him, but he’s just—” You sighed wistfully. “He’s so kind and driven and—”

“Obsessed with Quidditch?” Fred interjected.

“Yes, but in a dedicated way,” you said dreamily.

Fred snorted. "Merlin, alright, fine. I’ll help you. But just know that if I have to listen to you swoon over Wood for the next month, you owe me more than just detention duty."

You beamed. “Deal.”

“Good. Because I might need your help, too.”

You tilted your head, furrowing your brows. “With what?”

Fred leaned forward conspiratorially. “Gabriella Moon.”

"Gabriella? As in, my Gabriella?"

"I didn’t realise you had ownership over her," Fred mused. "But yes, your Hufflepuff friend."

You nodded, grinning. "Oh for sure, I can definitely help with that. Piece of cake."

Gabriella was in your house, a sweet and kind Hufflepuff, and you got along with her well. Setting her up with Fred should be a simple, easy, task.

"Alright, Weasley. You’ve got yourself a deal."

Fred held out his hand, and you shook it—sealing a pact neither of you realised would completely change everything.

"Our deal." He affirmed.

____ The deal meant spending more time together. At first, it was simple things—giving each other tips, practicing flirting, and being seen together enough to spark curiosity.

One evening in the Great Hall, Fred joined you at the Hufflepuff table. Your friends sat with you, but you were so engrossed with Fred, that everyone seemed to disappear into the background, feeling as though it was only the two of you in the hall.

Fred leaned in with a smirk after placing a dinner roll on your plate, which he knew you enjoyed pairing with butter. "Alright, say I’m Oliver—how would you charm me?"

You exhaled dramatically. "Fine." You turned to him, putting on your best smile. "Hey, Oliver, fancy seeing you here. Do you always look this good after practice?"

Fred chortled, nearly choking on his pumpkin juice. "Merlin’s beard, that was atrocious."

You gasped, smacking his arm. "It was not!"

"It was!" Fred wheezed, clutching his chest. "Try again, but maybe without sounding like a lovesick poet."

You scowled but tried again. "Alright, then. How about this—‘I hear you’re the best Keeper Hogwarts has ever had. Think you could keep me?’"

Fred blinked, then groaned throwing his head back. "Oh, that was painful."

You shoved his shoulder, laughing. "I hate you."

"Sure you do," he teased, winking. "Now, do I get a turn?"

"Go on, then," you challenged, crossing your arms.

Fred turned, propped his elbow on the table, and smirked. "Hey, Gabriella," he began, "are you a Snitch? Because you’ve got me chasing after you."

You stared at him, face scrunching up in disgust. It was as though you had just witnessed a crime.

He wiggled his eyebrows before taking a mouthful of peas, chewing as he awaited your response.

You burst out laughing. "Oh, that’s horrible. No wonder you need my help."

Fred's mouth dropped, "Excuse you, that was a good chat up. Thank you very much."

You both laughed, completely unaware of the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs watching the way you two bantered—how Fred’s eyes softened when you laughed, how you bit your lip when he grinned. You weren't super close to Fred, just casual friends, but you had to admit, these few recent days had you seeing him in a different light, he was more carefree around you, cheery, and you felt yourself coming out of your shell, all thanks to him.

You were confident in approaching Oliver now, and all the more excited for it.

____

"No, no! Merlin, Fred, you're going to scare the girl away if you look at her like that." The next few days were all about perfecting your tactics, anything to impress your targets, of course.

"Like what?" He sat beside you on the couch in the Gryffindor common room. It was a Saturday, and naturally, most students were either at Hogsmeade, outside, or sleeping in, leaving most of the space to the two of you.

"Again! Again..." You waved your hands, ushering him off the couch. "Pretend I'm Gabriella, and I'm sitting on a bench somewhere nice. You've just walked into the place, and you see her."

Fred straightened his shirt, retreating from the couch, before strolling over to you again, a devious smirk painted on his face, his hair slightly tousled and messy. He held his chin up high, and his arms swayed beside his lanky figure as he approached you.

"Y/N? Fancy seeing you here!" He beamed, pretending to act out the scenario.

"Wrong." You corrected, "Not Y/N, Gabriella." You flashed your brows, and he exhaled, walking away to take his place once again.

He strolled to you, once more, "Gabriella! Haven't seen you in a bit! What brings you here?"

You nodded, indicating he was doing a decent job so far, encouraging him to continue.

Fred plopped himself beside you, your knees were touching and he extended an arm around you.

"I"m good! This is my favourite place to unwind actually." You fake-mocked Gabriella, pretending to be her in this situation.

"Well, then I guess you'll be seeing me here more often, darling." Fred leaned in, you could feel his body heat against you, and you blinked before shaking your head.

"Darling? You barely know the girl!" You chuckled, and Fred's eyes glinted with awe as you threw your head back, he had not realised it, but your laughter ignited a warm honey like feeling in his chest.

"Fine, what about love? Baby? Babe?"

"No no, save those for when you're actually with her, but I suppose 'love' is a good place to start."

"Alright, love." He teased, and you playfully smacked him but an idea popped into your head, and immediately, you got into character.

"If you say so, Oliver." You pretended to act as if you would in this scenario with Wood.

Fred, still seated next to you, glanced down from your eyes to your lips.

You leaned in, tilting your head and gazing from his left eye, to his lips, then to his right eye. You smiled sweetly, blinking slowly as you gave Fred your full attention, staring at him with doe-like eyes, "So, Oliver, how was quidditch practice today?"

Fred gulped, eyes blinking rapidly as he coughed, "G-Good."

You smirked, lowering your voice, "I'm sure it would've been better if I was there with you." You bit your lip as you glanced at his lips.

"You should come to the next one." Fred responded softly, smiling as he leaned in, ever so slightly, one arm still wrapped around you, and you were fully within his proximity.

You could feel your breaths against each other; his scent crept its way to your nose, and you scrunched it. He smelt like fresh grass on a hot summer's day and clean laundry in the fresh breeze, something you'd never noticed before.

There was a moment of comfortable silence, but the portrait door clicked open, and some students returned from their trip to Hogsmeade.

"That was, uh, something I'd say if I was with Oliver." You quickly dismissed this, leaning back to a comfortable distance. Fred cleared his throat, and removed his arm, "Yeah, that was good. See, told you I was a good teacher."

You scoffed, "You? Please that one was all me."

"S'pose you are getting pretty good at this, annoyingly so, in fact." He hummed and you mouth dropped slightly,

"Is that a compliment?" You beamed, wiggling a happy dance in your seat.

"Don't get too cocky Y/L/N, I have yet to see you interact with him." Fred laughed, attempting to hide his awe for your little dance.

____

Days passed, and you found yourself spending an increasing amount of time at the Gryffindor table, supposedly to get closer to Oliver. But somehow, you always ended up next to Fred, bickering, laughing, sharing food.

People noticed—Hermione tried, and failed miserably to hide her excitement for you two, George outright smirked, Ginny started whispering to Harry, smiling at the thought of the two of you, Ron was amused at how Fred could pull someone as gorgeous as you.

Only you and Fred knew about your deal, to them, they saw this as a newfound friendship, alliance, even...romance? Hermione seems to think the latter describes your relationship perfectly.

You brushed it off, for you knew that you were only helping each other, and once the deal was over, you would go back to normal.

The topic of quidditch was no foreign topic at this table, Harry making remarks about how he'll confront Malfoy, Angelina and George talking about the Nimbus 2000, Oliver and Fred discussing a new game plan.

"Hey Y/N, why don't you come watch us at practice today after lunch, it'll be fun." Oliver invited you, and you blinked in surprise.

"I'd love to!" You chimed, "How could I pass on a chance to support the best quidditch team at Hogwarts?"

Oliver beamed, laughing softly at your enthusiasm, "Ooh careful now, don't want Hufflepuff's quidditch team to hear that now do ya?"

"Consider me an ally of both teams." You chuckled, and he grinned, smiling warmly at you.

"Surely you become an honourary Gryffindor for the day?" Oliver raised his brow, before taking a bite of his toast.

"Won't miss me too much when I switch back to Hufflepuff would you?" You teased.

"Then I'll just ask you to join Gryffindor again."

You were about to pour yourself some orange juice, but Oliver moved at the speed of light, "Here, let me." He poured a glass for you, then one for himself. "Fred? Some for you too?"

"Nah mate, I'm pretty full."

Fred silently watched the two of you interact; a part of him was happy and proud, seeing the way you effortlessly interacted with Oliver, but there was this foreign feeling inside him. Like a splinter poking him from the inside, if that were even possible.

His eyes darted from you, to Oliver, then back to you.

Each time you paid attention to Oliver, laughed at his quips, his charm, a small part of Fred wanted that attention from you, again.

He wanted you for himself.

Fred shook his head, dismissing all these thoughts, where were they even coming from? He knew one thing thought, he was being silly thinking about you like this.

However, Gabriella was starting to become a long-forgotten thought.

The only person consuming his mind lately, seemed to be…you.

Fred exhaled, taking a sip of his water, hoping to refresh his mind from whatever nonsense he thought about.

It didn’t matter anyway because after this deal was done, and you were happy with Oliver, that was it. You’d go your separate ways, well, mostly. That was, after all, the whole point of you becoming close with Fred.

"By the way, is it alright if I bring a friend?" You asked Oliver.

"The more the merrier!"

"I'll bring Gabriella." You whispered trying to contain your excitement, nudging Fred who was seated beside you.

He was quickly snapped out of his thoughts, "Oh, yeah, that'll be great."

____

Later that afternoon, you sat in the stands with Hermione, Gabriella, and Ginny, watching Gryffindor’s practice. Oliver was in his element—focused, determined, calling out plays.

Your eyes were glued to him, who looked impossibly handsome as he soared through the air, his hair ruffled by the wind. He turned, caught your gaze, and waved with that signature kind smile of his.

Your heart stuttered and a faint blush crept on your cheeks, moments like this only pulled you in deeper. Part of the reason you fell for him, was that one day you were lost and he helped you find your way to class. Being younger than him, he felt the duty to lookout for his juniors, he was patient, kind and made you feel right at home when you felt lost. His kindness was just so endearing.

"Go Oli!!" You cheered, and Oliver waved at you again.

"Nicknames already?" Hermione, seated next to you, smiled knowingly and you chuckled as a response.

"Fred looks really determined today, isn't that a good look on him?" You nudged Gabriella, hoping to steer her focus onto Fred.

"Yeah, he does look kinda cute." She agreed, grinning up at him. "Also, thanks for inviting me Y/N, this is really nice." Gabriella turned to you, smiling sweetly. She was a kind soul, much like you, always helping others and making sure everyone felt comfortable. Of course guys would fancy her.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Fred. His red hair caught the sunlight in a way that made it seem almost golden, his strong frame relaxed but still commanding attention as he sat on his broomstick, laughing with George.

There was something about him today—maybe the way his sleeves were rolled up, or the effortless confidence he carried. And for some reason, your found your heartpace steadily increasing as you continued observing him.

No. No, this was about Oliver. You shook the thought away and focused on the Gryffindor Captain instead.

Moments later, Angelina, Oliver, and Katie flew over, beaming. “Oi, you lot! Come play a friendly match with us!” Angelina called, gesturing eagerly.

You hesitated. “Oh, I don’t know... I’m not really—”

“Come on, it’s just for fun,” Oliver encouraged, flying closer. His eyes met yours, playful and inviting. You wanted to impress him. So, against better judgment, you stood and dusted off your robes. The four of you made your way down to the grassy field, and used some spare brooms.

Ginny, Hermione, and Gabriella exchanged amused glances but joined in as well.

You borrowed a broomstick—the nearest one, which happened to be Fred’s. "Can I?" You smirked, turning to Fred who took a quick break, reaching into his bag for his bottle.

"Yeah yeah, if you break it I'll crack your head." Fred teased, before chugging his water. With that, you kicked off the ground, feeling the rush of wind as you soared into the air.

The game was lighthearted, filled with teasing and playful competition. You and Oliver found yourselves in the same airspace often, exchanging witty remarks and laughter.

It felt effortless, easy. Below, Fred stood watching, arms crossed, watching in amusement as you 'bonded' with Oliver. Though you weren't sure if amusement, was the right word to use here, seeing how he kept tapping his foot.

“You’re getting the hang of this!” Oliver grinned, flying beside you.

“I’m just trying to keep up,” you joked, glancing at him.

So caught up in the moment, you didn’t notice the Bludger hurtling toward you until it slammed into your shoulder with brutal force.

Pain exploded through your arm, and your broom wobbled violently beneath you. You gasped as your grip faltered, and before you knew it, you were falling.

The ground rushed toward you, and you thudded harshly on the grassy patch. Ouch.

Oliver flew down hastily, but before he could reach you, Fred was already there, kneeling beside you, face pale.

“Are you daft?” he scolded, voice tight. “Didn’t you see that Bludger?”

You winced, trying to sit up. “It wasn’t that bad—”

“Not that bad? You fell from twenty feet up,” he snapped, his hands hovering over you like he didn’t know where to touch in case he hurt you further. “You’re going to the hospital wing.”

Oliver finally reached you, eyes filled with concern. “You alright?” He looked from you to Fred, who was still kneeling beside you, jaw clenched.

“I’m fine,” you muttered, but Fred wasn’t having it. Before you could protest, he scooped you up effortlessly, ignoring your weak protests.

“You’re being overdramatic,” you huffed, but your heart betrayed you, beating erratically against your ribs as Fred carried you toward the castle.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he shot back, striding forward without a second glance at Oliver, who remained standing on the pitch, watching with an expression that hinted he had figured something out.

He observed as Fred held you close, furrowing his eyebrows slightly, "Hm." He was so sure that you and Fred were just friends, but the way Fred acted today made Oliver doubtful.

The others stayed back to practice, you assured them that you were fine, and that there was no need to come. ___

Madam Pomfrey fussed over you, muttering about reckless students and dangerous sports as she poured a bitter healing potion down your throat. “You’re lucky it wasn’t a full-speed hit,” she chided, waving her wand to mend the bruising on your shoulder.

Fred stayed beside you the whole time, leaning against the infirmary bed with that signature mischievous glint returning to his eyes. “So, you were trying to impress Wood, huh?” he mused, arching a brow.

“Shut up,” you muttered, cheeks warming.

“Not my fault you nearly died doing it,” he teased, nudging you playfully. “Maybe I should give you some lessons on how to survive Quidditch.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to stop the smile tugging at your lips. “Maybe I should give you lessons on how to stop being so intolerable.”

Fred smirked. “Where’s the fun in that?”

You laughed, the earlier pain fading into the background as the two of you fell into easy conversation.

He stayed with you the rest of the day until you felt better enough to head back to your dorm.

____

The next day, the Gryffindor vs. Slytherin match had the entire school buzzing with chatter. The game was brutal, with Slytherin coming in close, though Gryffindor still came out victorious.

The moment the Snitch was caught, the stands erupted into cheers, the players celebrating mid-air before descending to the field. You watched Fred among them, his face lit up with triumph. When his eyes met yours, something unspoken passed between you.

And you weren’t so sure anymore if Oliver Wood was the one making your heart race.

You, Hermione and Gabriella made your way down to the team, "You guys smashed it out there." You chimed, clapping for the them.

"Couldn't have done it without your support." Oliver walked over to you, hi-fiving your hand which you extended for him.

"You played amazingly, especially in the second half! Fred—the way you hit the bludger right before it touched the ground, just, wow!" Gabriella beamed, waving her hands around expressively.

"Hey, all in a day's work." Fred expressed, cockily brushing his hands together which earned a giggle from Gabriella.

"You know, you should come to the party tonight, hosted by yours truly." Fred shuffled closer to Gabriella, extended his arms as he gave himself credit for hosting the party.

"More of a team effort actually, he just talks too much." Lee quipped, "But yeah, you guys should come. Gryffindor common room, at 7."

"We'll be there." Gabriella replied for the two of you, twirling her hair as she smiled sweetly at Fred.

You were happy for her truly, especially Fred, who was grinning back at her, engaging in a new conversation about what'll transpire at the party tonight.

You were happy. Yes, you were.

But, does someone who is supposedly happy for their friend, feel a pit in their stomach every time they watch them with their respective crush?

____

"How do I look?" Gabriella asked, gesturing to her outfit, fitted flared blue jeans and a yellow peplum top, with a yellow bow to accessorise.

"You look stunning, Fred's going to love it!" You chimed, "Oh wait, here-" You helped straightened her bow from the behind, "Perfect."

"Look who's talking, Oliver's going to swoon over you when he sees you in that black dress!" Gabriella stood beside you, looking in the full body mirror, shaking with excitement for the party.

The two of you made your way over to the Gryffindor common room, met with a few ravenclaws and fellow hufflepuffs by the portrait entrance.

It was no surprise that the common room was alive with celebration and merriment. You and Gabriella stepped inside, immediately greeted by George and Lee, who enthusiastically showed you around.

"Welcome welcome! You guys look great!" Lee hyped you two up, always the enhusiast.

Laughter, chatter, and the warmth of victory filled the space. As your eyes scanned the room, they landed on Fred and Oliver by the fireplace, who spotted you and beckoned you both over with bright grins.

After a while of lively conversation in the group, you and Gabriella naturally parted ways—her heading away to the couch with Fred while Oliver guided you to where his friends stood.

You chatted and laughed, but something felt off. Your attention was divided, and no matter how much you tried to focus on Oliver and his friends, your eyes kept finding Fred’s.

Across the room, you noticed his eyes constantly meeting yours, just as much as yours longed to find his.

You were snapped out of your gaze when one of Oliver’s friends playfully nudged you, shoving a drink into your hands. “Come on, have some firewhiskey on me! You’ve got to celebrate properly!”

"Oh wow, where'd you manage to get that?" You asked, curious as to how he managed to sneak in alcohol. Granted, he was older than you so it was fair to assume he was more daring when it came to liquor.

"I have my sources." The guy wiggled his brows, "Come on, drink up Y/N, join us!"

You hesitated. “I’m good, really.”

“Oh, don’t be a buzzkill. Just one!” He pushed again, grinning as if it were a challenge.

“I said I don’t want to.” Your voice was firmer now, but he rolled his eyes.

Oliver sensed your discomfort and interjected swiftly, “Knock it off Felix. She doesn’t have to drink if she doesn’t want to.”

"Alright alright, you're just a wee girl after all innit." Felix chuckled, "More for me then."

Wee girl? Merlin, who does he think he is? You scoffed to yourself, shifting closer to Oliver.

Still, the group laughed it off, and you suddenly felt uncomfortable, wanting to be anywhere but here. You excused yourself quickly, heading upstairs to a quieter gryffindor study room.

The party noise faded, and you sank into one of the couches, taking a deep breath.

A knock came at the door, before it slowly opened.

Truthfully, a wave of relief washed over you when you saw Fred entering, his usual smugness replaced with something softer. “Saw Felix being a git, it's safe to say he won't ever bother you again.”

Fred's implication that he had a word with Felix made you all the more relieved, you exhaled softly, nodding.

You smiled weakly. “Thanks.”

He stood at the doorframe for a second, inspecting your state before slowly walking over. The couch dipped upon the weight of him as he sat beside you.

“You okay?” He nudged you with his body gently.

You nodded, looking forward though you felt his gaze on you. “Yeah. Just needed a minute.”

He listened intently, offering you the silence you much needed after the earlier commotion.

There was a pause before you turned to face him, “How’s it going with Gabriella?”

Fred shrugged. “Good,” he lied, then exhaled. “Alright, fine. She’s nice, but I think I bored her to death. She’s talking to Neville about some plants now.”

You chuckled. “Plants are fascinating.”

“To you, maybe. Not exactly my best topic,” Fred admitted. "Might buy a bouquet or two, but other than that I'm clueless."

"If you do, red roses are the way to go. She loves them, practically every girl does."

"Including you?"

"I adore them. Sounds a bit basic but they're a classic for a reason, they're just so...romantic." Your eyes glistened as you spoke about roses, dreaming of the day someone would buy you flowers.

"Noted, I'll pass a good word to Oliver." Fred chuckled, smiling at the way your eyes lit up, but his smiled disappeared when you frowned, a sigh escaping your lips.

“I think I’m losing it with Oliver. I feel like a total idiot for not drinking in front of him and his friends."

Fred shook his head. “Nah, you’re not an idiot....maybe a little, but not a full blown one." You slapped his arm playfully, but he continued, raising his hands in defence, "If anything, that makes you better than them. You don’t need to do anything to impress him, so what if you don't feel like drinking?”

"I don't think I'll face him again, if his friends hate me, he'll probably grow to dislike me." You groaned, burying your face in your hands.

"Nothing a little flirting can't solve," Fred was optimistic, attempting to cheer you up in this moment of despair, "Next time you see him, get more touchy. When you laugh, place a hand on his arm, lean on him, lean in to him...y'know, the usual."

"Ugh, in front of his friends?" You grumbled.

"All the better, shows you've got game." He continued to give you tips on how to approach Oliver again later, helping you plan your next move.

It was only fair of you to return the favour, leaning in slightly. “Right, so, lean in when you talk to her, like this,” you said, demonstrating the closeness.

Fred swallowed, blinking at you. “Like this?” He mimicked you, your shoulders were touching all the more, your face near his neck, his mouth a few inches away from your forehead.

You nodded, voice softer now. “And maybe say something like… ‘Your eyes are a remarkable shade of hazel, I never noticed how stunning they were until up close now. They sparkle beautifully in the moonlight, yet they manage to shine even brighter when you're caring.’”

It was meant for Gabriella. But as you spoke, something in your chest tightened. You were speaking to Fred. Really speaking to him. His hazel eyes met yours, and he leaned in once more.

His mouth parted slightly, as his eyes darted to your lips then back to your eyes. You found yourself leaning in too, your breathing became heavy.

Your heart felt like it was going to pounce out of your chest with the rate it was beating.

The air between you stilled as you both realised the weight of your words.

Before he could respond, the door creaked open. You and Fred jumped apart just as Oliver and Gabriella entered, looking at you both in confusion.

“There you are, we were wondering where you two had vanished off too.” Gabriella remarked, her eyes darting from Fred to you.

Your heart raced and Fred's face flushed a shade of red. Though completely innocent, if felt as though you were caught doing something you weren't supposed to be doing.

Flustered, you quickly went to Oliver, while Gabriella made her way to Fred.

The rest of the party carried on, fun and lively, but you couldn’t shake the strange feeling that lingered. No matter how much you tried to focus on Oliver, your gaze kept drifting back to Fred.

____

The anticipation leading up to the Yule Ball had everyone on edge. With the Yule Ball near approaching, the talk of the castle revolved around the ball; students asking each other to the dance, flowers being exchanged, and whispers filling the corridors.

You woke up that morning with only one name in your mind—Fred Weasley. It was irritating, really. You weren’t supposed to be thinking about him. You liked Oliver. You were going with Oliver. And yet, Fred’s stupid, mischievous grin had invaded your thoughts like an unrelenting charm.

At breakfast, you sat with Gabriella at your usual hufflepuff table, chatting about the Yule Ball. She was gushing about how beautiful everything was going to look, the magical snowflakes, the ice sculptures, the romantic lighting. You smiled along, but your mind was elsewhere. Across the hall, Fred was laughing with George, but every so often, you swore you caught him glancing at you.

After your 'Defence Against the Dark Arts' class, you walked out with Harry, Ron, and Hermione when Oliver approached. He was holding a bouquet of red roses, his confident smile making you a blushing mess.

"Y/N," he said warmly, holding out the flowers. "Would you do me the honour of accompanying me to the Yule Ball?"

You paused, then beamed. "Of course, Oliver. I'd love to!" He pulled you in for a warm hug while students around you cheered, and whistled loudly.

You were happy—you really were. This was what you wanted, wasn’t it? But as you took the roses, a strange heaviness settled in your chest.

Later that day, you found yourself with Fred, helping him prepare to ask Gabriella. You were ranting about Oliver, swooning over how charming he was. Fred, though smiling, was already fuming inside. He wanted to be happy for you. He wanted to believe this was all fine. But every word you spoke about Oliver grated on his nerves.

"Do you think Gabriella will like this?" Fred asked, holding up a box of assorted chocolates, changing the topic quickly after countless nods and 'that's great' as a response to you gushing over Oliver.

You turned to him, considering. "Yeah, she will, can't go wrong with chocolate. You got this, Freddie!"

"Right," he said, running a hand through his hair, looking more uncertain than usual. He was prolonging it, he knew it. He didn't want to ask her. He had someone else on his mind now. But what choice did he have? You were already going with Oliver.

When he finally did ask Gabriella in the courtyard, you cheered for him, clapping as she said yes. It was the right outcome—technically, you both won. And yet, watching Fred grin as he hugged Gabriella filled you with an unexpected wave of envy.

_____

The Yule Ball arrived in a flurry of excitement. You walked down the stairs with Oliver, arm in arm, dressed in your most elegant red gown. Across the entrance, you saw Fred with Gabriella. You both gave each other thumbs-up and smiled, though your smile never quite reached your eyes, nor did Fred's.

As you approached the entrance, Oliver and Gabriella walked in first, conversing with each other, leaving you and Fred standing alone for a moment.

Fred shoved his hands into his pockets before breaking the silence, "So…we both got what we wanted."

You exhaled, forcing a smile. "Yeah…we both got with our dates. All too smoothly, I might add."

You both chuckled, but there was an undeniable weight in the air.

"You look nice, cleaned up well for Oliver eh? Lucky bloke." Fred joked, though his voice was laced with subtle serious undertone.

"Hm, you don't look like a grindylow for once, I see you clean up pretty nicely too."

He chuckled softly, removing his hands from his pockets. Neither of you moved, it was as though a silent message of 'please stay here with me' was shared.

You hesitated before extending your hand. "Thank you, Fred. For everything."

He took your hand, shaking it lightly, but neither of you let go. There was a static, a spark, if you would, something both of you didn’t want to ignore. You both looked down at your touching hands, then back to each other.

Oblivious as to what the other party was thinking, the two of you decided to ignore it, let go, and move on, for the better, right?

"So, that's our deal done then?" you said slowly, though regretting it.

Fred swallowed hard, nodding. "Yeah. I'll, uh…see you around school then."

Your heart clenched, but for the sake of the ball, you put on your best grin. "I'll see you around, Fred."

You then turned to Oliver who was a few steps ahead, extending his arm to you. As you walked with him into the ballroom, you turned back one last time.

Fred was still standing there. You waved. He waved back, smiling—but his eyes told you that there was something masked beneath that smile. Gabriella came up to him, and they walked inside together, you turned forward to let them have their moment.

The ball was everything you imagined—beautiful, magical, enchanting. Oliver was the perfect gentleman, twirling you around the dance floor, kissing your hand, your cheek, your forehead, even. He got you punch, held the door open, pulled out your chair, he was the ideal guy, truly ticking off all your boxes.

You smiled at him, but your heart was never quite satisfied, there was a space yet to be filled.

And you hated that you knew why.

Your eyes kept drifting to him. He was dancing with Gabriella, but his mind was far away. Uncomfortable. Lost.

You chuckled to yourself, shaking off this silly feeling, turning your attention back to Oliver, who was explaining about his latest tactics for the upcoming Quidditch match with ravenclaw.

____

Later that night, Oliver walked you back to your common room. He leaned down, pressing a sweet kiss to the back of your hand. "Goodnight, Y/N."

You lips curled up into a grateful smile, thanking him for the wonderful evening, but as he turned to leave, something inside you snapped.

If something was wrong, you needed to fix it. Merlin, what's the point in waiting? If something didn't feel right, your gut knew that you had to fix it right away. And this, was one of those moments.

You turned on your heel and ran in your red gown. Through the castle, past students, up and down staircases—you had no plan, no direction, just a need to find him.

Until you did.

At the main staircase, you froze. Fred was at the bottom, looking up at you. He was holding a bouquet of red roses.

Your throat tightened, immediately regretting your decision. "For Gabriella?"

Fred shook his head. "No." He stepped forward, "They're for you."

Your paused, holding your breath as he started walking up the stairs, to you.

"Y/N, I—" Fred hesitated, then exhaled sharply. "I don’t want Gabriella. I don't think I ever did, truthfully. I just…I wanted to be with you. And I was too much of a git to see it until it was too late."

Tears burned at your eyes. "Fred—"

"I don't care about the deal. I don't care about anything except you. I don't want to ever lose you Y/N. And if I have to watch you with Oliver one more time, I think I might actually go mental."

He was close now, the roses in one hand, the other reaching for you.

You let out a shaky laugh. "You're such a git, you know that?"

Fred grinned, brushing a strand of hair from your cheek and tucking it behind your ear. "Yeah. But I’m your silly git, if you'll have me."

You didn’t give him a chance to say anything else. You surged forward, crashing your lips to his, your hands gripping his suit. He dropped the flowers, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you flush against him.

It was passionate, desperate, hungry, everything you had ever wanted but had been too blind to admit. The kiss of two people who were starving and desperately in need of each other. Fred savoured every bit of your mouth, as though tomorrow would never come, ending with a sweet peck.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, a grin sprawled across that deviously handsome face of his, his hair messy but Merlin, it was such a look on him. "So, I take it that’s a yes, love?"

You laughed, leaning your forehead against his. "Yes, you fool."

Fred cupped your face, thumb brushing over your cheek once again. "Best deal I’ve ever made."

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deadsnakey · 7 months ago

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Ron loves gifting you things. he doesn't have a lot of money therefor he doesn't have a lot of oppertunities to give you things that aren't hand made: when he does though, it's usually something he noticed you were running out of. maybe you were running out of lipgloss or hair ties. he'll find those exact said things and gift them to you a few days later with the brightest smile on his face; cheeks dusted a slight pink.

he listens to you, when you make a small remark on a specific brand or product that's your favorite. overhearing you say why you love said brand or product for whatever reasons you have. he'll find it, save up for it if he cant make it and gift it to you for your birthday, Christmas, maybe a date. he knows you're not dating him for his money but he still likes to do these kind of things for you whenever he can. seeing you happy makes him happy, truly.

Ron loves hearing your voice, he loves it. he can listen to it for hours as you yip yap about something you're passionate about or even explaining something; talking about your day or something that made you mad. he loves your laugh. the more loud and uglier it is, the more attractive he thinks you are. There's no need to be insecure with Ron because he'll show and prove to you time and time again that he loves you for you and you're perfect in his eyes. you're perfect for him and he couldn't ever wish to have it any other way.

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nian-7 · 2 years ago

Note

helloooo!! how are you? hope you are doing well! may i ask for a ron kamonohashi x gn! reader where reader is an artist and has a good eye for detail and often helps him in his investigations? thats all!! thank you <33

hello! i'm well, thank you. please enjoy!

Ron Kamonohashi x gn!reader

✧artist!reader

✧fluff

-Ron also has a good eye for detail, being a detective and all, so it's not often that he really 'needs' the extra help. It is nice though when you remind him of things at the crime scene that he could have forgotten about in the moment.

-Besides the constant crime solving he does, he will indulge with making art with you on occasion. He isn't amazing at art but he sure can be creative. Whether he gives you an idea or just paints something with you, it's nice and he likes the quality time.

-He'd enjoy seeing your art pieces no matter what they are. His s/o made it after all so he should give them his time and compliment their hard work. Even if it's just a little bit!

-Doesn't mind if you were to 'spruce up' his apartment a bit with all your art. Whether it be just sketches or finished pieces, it's nice to see. It's what you're passionate about and he'll support you as long as you support his detective work.

please do not repost any of my work without my permission, thank you for reading.

#x reader #fluff #gender neutral reader #nian-anon #ron kamonohashi #ron kamonohashi x reader #ron kamonohashi deranged detective #ron x reader #deranged detective x reader #deranged detective

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konigsfavwife · 1 year ago

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“Wake up Ron!”

Summary: you and Ron have dated since your third year. During summers you’d often go to the Burrow, staying over for multiple days at a time. You loved Ron dearly but he was such an odd sleeper…

Ron Weasley x fem!reader

Warnings: none! Tooth rotting fluff, no use of y/n??

Word count: 532

Authors note: my lordddd i can’t say how much I love this man he’s literally so fine 😋

It was early in the morning, waking up to the feeling of someone’s limbs sprawled out over your chest. You mumbled sitting up and seeing Ron’s soft red hair make a mess on his pillow, his body thrown over yours. You looked at him with a little laugh as you moved his arm off your chest, putting it over his own chest.

“ron get up..” you mumbled, standing up from his bed and stretching her arms above her head. Ron completely ignored her as he snores quite loudly. “my Merlin your gonna be the death of me.”you huffed slipping on a pair of slippers and walking into the kitchen where Molly started making breakfast.

“oh good morning dear! I’m almost finished making Breakfast, would you be an angel and try to wake up Ron? He’s quite impossible to wake up in the mornings” Molly teased as she faced you. “good morning Molly” you smiled at her. “But of course, I’ll try” you laughed a little and walked back upstairs into Ron’s room.

As you walked into his room, he sprawled even farther on the bed, his arm on each ends of the bed, as the same with his legs. Practically looking like a starfish. Then again another merlin-forbidden snore left him. “Ron get up!” you said as you poked his chest. Ron didn’t even respond, instead he shoved his head into his pillow, snuggling up into his blanket and pillow. “ron my merlin get up..” you huffed, shaking him awake. “bloody hell what do you want?” Ron grumbled as he sat up, a pout visible on his lips. “for you to wake up. your mom is cooking breakfast so she wants you up” you yawned as you sat down, kicking off your slippers and sat beside him. Ron huffed and sat up beside you. “well good morning to you too you big baby” you huffed. “dont call me that.” Ron mumbled, turning to face you. “fine, I won’t just wake up please?” you asked with a fake pout. “I am up.” Ron mumbled. “my jeez your so dramatic Ron.” you rolled your eyes as you moved your head a little to face him. “shut up.” Ron mumbled.

“now do you want to go downstairs?” you asked, a little smile appearing on your lips at his pout. “no. I don’t feel like taking to them right now. It’s to early..” Ron huffed dramatically as he laid down once again, but his arms wrapped around your waist snuggly. “im not going anywhere Ron..” you huffed a little, your hands finding themselves lost in his red hair. “that feels nice..” Ron mumbled as he laid his head in your lap. “go back to bed…” you sighed, knowing he did this every morning when he didn’t want to wake up. Ron only nodded before quickly dragging you back down to lay with him. Ron’s arms wrapped around your waist as his chest pressed up against your back, his chin placed on the crook of your shoulder. “I love you, you big baby.” you hummed softly as you snuggled into the pillow. “yea yea I love you too..” Ron mumbled, pressing a soft kiss on your jawline

#ron weasley #ronald weasley #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #ron x reader #ron x y/n #Ron hc #ron weasly x reader #ron weasly imagine #ron fan fiction #sleeping beauty #ron wealsey x y/n #ron Weasley hc

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vinamari · 8 months ago

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How it feels going to bed after reading some words

It was angst

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rottenherbs · 18 days ago

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The Line Between Anger and Affection

Pairings: R.W x Reader Tags: Enemies to Lovers / Second Chances / Detention / Hurt-Comfort / Angst Summary: y/n and Ron Weasley navigate years of tension and unresolved feelings, culminating in a heartfelt confession that leads them to confront the love they've both been too afraid to acknowledge W/C: 3.4k A/N: scrumptious. Both y/n and Ron are assholes but...assholes fit for each other <3 [masterlist] Much love, Saige

The Hogwarts corridor was as chaotic as ever, students rushing from one class to the next, their laughter and chatter echoing off the stone walls. But for you, everything was drowned out by one singular thing—Ron Weasley.

You had always fought with him. It started small, back when you first met in first year, little jabs here and there. It had never really bothered you at the time. But as the years went on, you found yourself clashing with him more and more. He was impulsive, brash, and at times, downright annoying. And yet… there was something about him that you couldn’t shake. Something that pulled at you, even though you did everything you could to push it down.

It wasn’t love—not yet. No, it was more like a slow-burning frustration that grew every time you saw him. Every time he made that cocky smirk or those wide, innocent eyes fluttered in your direction. The way he’d defend his friends, even when they didn’t need it. The way he’d always show up for you, even when you didn’t ask him to.

And for some strange reason, that only seemed to make you angrier.

but today… Today was different.

You’d been in the same classroom for what felt like an eternity, your quill scratching across parchment as you tried to focus on the lesson. Ron was across from you, making faces at Harry, who was trying to ignore him. Every now and then, Ron would glance in your direction, his eyes lingering just a second too long.

“Can you just shut up for once?” you snapped, your voice low yet harsh, cutting through the silence.

“Why don't you shut up for once?” Ron whispers in retort, resulting in Harry smacking him across the arm in disapproval.

“I can't focus with you making a joke of this class.” You huff, turning your back and attempting to focus on the work in front of you.

“Maybe if you found a way to remove that stick up your ass-” Ron whispered to himself, unknowingly loud enough for Professor Mcgonagall to hear.

“Both of you! Cease this bickering and interruptions - detention tonight at seven.” She spoke loudly, projecting her voice loudly across the room resulting in all the students turning to face you both.

“Profess-” Ron protested, resting his head in his hands in defeat.

“I don't want to hear it. Another peep from you Mr.Weasley and make it the weekend as well.” Professor Mcgonagall turned on her hell and began to patrol the classroom once more.

—-------

The dungeon-like classroom was eerily silent, save for the soft scratch of quills against parchment and the occasional flicker of candlelight. It was the kind of silence that always seemed to press down on you, making every second drag on forever. And yet, despite the overwhelming quiet, there was no escaping the tension.

You were stuck in detention with Ron Weasley. Of all people.

You had barely even noticed how the argument had escalated. One minute, you were simply disagreeing over a trivial point in class. The next, your words were sharp, laced with frustration and bitterness. As usual, Ron’s stubbornness and tendency to speak without thinking had pushed all your buttons, and you had lashed out. Before you knew it, Professor McGonagall had sent you both to detention with a stern warning to work in silence.

You sat at one end of the long wooden table, your quill poised but unmoving, staring at the pile of unfinished essays in front of you. Ron sat across from you, doing the same. The two of you hadn’t said a word since you’d entered, but it didn’t take much to feel the charged atmosphere between you. The anger was still there, simmering just below the surface.

You hated this. Hated the way he made your blood boil, hated how every little thing about him seemed to rub you the wrong way. But as you sat there, quietly fuming, it was hard to ignore the truth: you couldn’t stand him… and you couldn’t stop thinking about him. And the longer you stayed in his presence, the more that frustration built inside of you.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you couldn't take it any longer.

You slammed your quill down onto the desk with a sharp thunk, the sudden noise breaking the oppressive silence. Your breath hitched as you fought to keep your emotions in check. There was no way you could focus on your essay, not with Ron across from you, his presence a constant, maddening reminder of everything that was wrong between the two of you.

Ron didn’t even flinch at the noise. He simply stared at his parchment, scribbling furiously as though the words on the page were the only things keeping him from saying something. Anything. But he remained silent, his jaw set in that stubborn way of his, and you hated him for it. It felt like he was purposefully ignoring you—purposefully pretending that the words you had exchanged earlier meant nothing at all.

It was maddening.

“Why are we even here?” you finally muttered, your voice low but full of irritation.

Ron’s eyes flicked up for a brief moment before he let out a quiet sigh. “Don’t expect me to answer that,” he muttered, his tone cold, like he was putting up a wall. “I’m sure it was your brilliant idea to shout at me in class.”

“Oh, please,” you retorted, not missing a beat. “You never know when to shut up. It’s always your brilliant ideas that get us into trouble.”

Ron rolled his eyes, his fingers tightening around his quill. “At least I’m not the one throwing a tantrum every time I don’t get my way.”

The sarcasm in his voice made your blood boil. The way he said it—like you were the one overreacting—like you were the one to blame for the mess that had been made in class. It felt like a direct hit.

You leaned forward on the desk, your eyes flashing with barely contained anger. “You make me so angry, I can’t even stand to look at you,” you bit out, your voice shaking with the effort to keep control.

Ron’s face hardened, but he didn’t respond. He just stared at you, his lips pressed into a thin line. There was a moment where it seemed like he was going to say something, but then he closed his mouth and turned his gaze back to his essay, as if you didn’t exist.

A hot rush of frustration surged through you. You hated the way he could just shut everything down so easily. He’d never let you say what you needed to, never let you get close enough to make sense of whatever was going on between you two.

You both remained in silence for the next few minutes, a thick tension hanging in the air, until Professor McGonagall’s voice cut through the stillness like a sharp blade.

“You two will clean the Transfiguration classroom before you leave,” she said briskly, her gaze sweeping over both of you. “And I expect it to be done properly. No more bickering. Understood?”

Neither of you responded, but the silence was enough of an answer. With a stiff nod, McGonagall turned and left the room, her footsteps echoing down the hall.

You stared at Ron, and he stared right back at you, both of you caught in a heavy moment of defiance. You were so furious, you could barely see straight. Cleaning the classroom together? It felt like the last thing you wanted to do with him. You’d rather do anything else than be stuck in a room with Ron, scrubbing floors in silence, letting the resentment simmer until you both explode again.

With a huff, you stood up and walked toward the cleaning supplies in the corner of the room. “I’ll take the mopping,” you muttered, not looking at him as you grabbed a bucket and a mop. “You can deal with the desks.”

Ron stood up, but he didn’t speak. He walked to the other side of the room, grabbing a rag and a bottle of cleaning solution with the same stiff, silent anger that you felt. He looked so determined to stay as far away from you as possible that it almost made you laugh.

But you didn’t.

You both worked in silence, the clatter of the mop against the stone floor the only sound in the room. Every now and then, your eyes would flick to Ron—watching him scrub the desks with the same intensity he used to play Wizard’s Chess. His brow furrowed, his ginger hair falling into his eyes, the usual cocky look gone. He looked… human.

And it pissed you off even more.

Every time you caught his eye, you quickly looked away, focusing instead on the dirty floor beneath your feet. The anger from earlier was still there, simmering, thick and heavy. You wanted to scream, to shout, to yell at him for all the stupid things he’d said. You wanted to ask why he always had to make everything so difficult. But you didn’t.

You couldn’t.

The minutes dragged on, the tension between you only growing stronger as you both tried to act as if the other didn’t matter. But every step you took, every swipe of the mop, seemed to bring you closer to that explosive moment from earlier. You could feel it just beneath the surface.

Eventually, the silence was broken—by none other than Ron.

“You’re stubborn,” he muttered, his voice low but sharp. His rag was still in his hand, and his face was flushed, though whether from the effort of cleaning or the argument, you couldn’t tell.

You froze. You didn’t want to hear it. You didn’t want to hear any more of his accusations.

“I’m stubborn?” you repeated, a bitter laugh escaping you. “Says the guy who refuses to see any other point of view.”

“I see your point of view just fine,” Ron snapped, his gaze flickering to you. “But you make everything into a battle, Y/n. You make me feel like I’m the enemy all the time. It’s like you don’t even want to get along.”

Your heart hammered in your chest as you set the mop down, turning to face him fully. “I don’t want to get along?” you said, your voice rising with the anger that had been boiling over all night. “You’re the one who can’t keep your mouth shut! You’re the one who always makes things worse! Do you even care how I feel?”

Ron’s face faltered for a split second, but then his features hardened once more. He crossed his arms. “I don’t know, do you care how I feel?” he retorted. “You think I want to keep arguing with you? You think I like feeling like this?”

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “I didn’t ask for any of this, Ron. But you—” You stopped yourself, unable to finish the sentence. What was the point? What was the point in saying anything?

Ron looked like he was about to say something else, but instead, he just exhaled sharply and dropped the rag back into the bucket. “We’re wasting our time,” he muttered, turning back to finish cleaning the desks.

You stood there for a moment, your mind racing. You wanted to scream, to cry, to ask him why—why did everything have to be so hard? But instead, you turned back to the floor, your mop swishing across the stone, each movement mechanical and empty.

You stood there in the silence, the tension thick and suffocating. You could feel Ron’s presence across the room, the way his movements were stiff, almost too controlled, as he wiped down the last desk. You tried to focus on your task, pushing the mop back and forth, but the words you had been holding in for so long, the ones that had been aching inside of you, suddenly bubbled to the surface.

"You make me so angry I want to scream, and I love you so much it almost tears me apart."

The words hung in the air, raw and vulnerable, reverberating around the classroom like an incantation that neither of you had the power to undo. You had barely even processed what you’d said before the weight of it crashed over you, your heart pounding in your chest, blood rushing in your ears. You couldn't differentiate the anger from your intimate emotions, fighting to understand them as you cleaned.

Ron’s rag fell to the desk with a soft thud. He stood frozen for a moment, his expression unreadable, eyes locked on you, his mouth parted as if he couldn’t quite form words. You couldn’t look at him. You couldn’t—because if you did, if you saw the expression on his face, you might crumble right then and there.

You took a deep breath, trying to gather yourself, but your hands were shaking, the mop handle trembling beneath your grip. "I didn’t mean—"

"You love me?" Ron’s voice was barely above a whisper, but it felt like the words cut through you like a knife.

Your breath caught in your throat. This was it. The moment everything would shift. You had laid it all out in the open, exposed your heart in the rawest way possible, and now it felt like your entire world was about to come crashing down.

"I... I didn’t mean to say it like that," you stammered, your mind scrambling for a way to take it all back. But you couldn’t. Not now. Not after everything. "It’s just... you drive me crazy, Ron. You frustrate me in ways I never thought possible, and it hurts. It really does. But I... I can’t stop caring. I don’t know how."

Ron’s gaze softened, his eyes searching yours, trying to make sense of the storm that had just been unleashed. His chest rose and fell with each shallow breath. For a moment, there was only the sound of the soft flicker of the candles and the distant hum of the castle, but it felt like the room was closing in on you both.

"You’ve always been... there," you continued, your voice breaking. "And every time we fight, or I get angry, or we’re at odds, it’s like I can’t breathe. I can’t focus on anything else because all I think about is how much you make me feel. How much I need you, Ron."

A tense silence followed, and just when you thought you might suffocate under the weight of it, Ron stepped forward. His gaze dropped briefly to the floor before he looked back up, his face filled with a mixture of uncertainty and something softer—something you weren’t sure you were ready to name.

Ron ran a hand through his messy hair, his eyes avoiding yours for a moment as if the weight of his confession was too much to carry. “After third year,” he began, his voice rough, “everything changed. I started feeling… things for you. And not just the usual ‘you’re my best mate’ kind of feelings, but more—like, in a way I couldn’t explain or handle. And instead of just dealing with it, instead of talking to you like I should’ve, I got scared. So I pushed you away. I acted like a complete prat, like I didn’t care, because I thought if I made it seem like I didn’t care, maybe I wouldn’t have to face it. I was an idiot, Y/n. I didn’t know how to tell you, or even if I should, and I didn’t want to risk losing what we had. So, I just ruined everything instead." His voice faltered, his gaze finally meeting yours with a mix of guilt and regret. "I’m sorry."

You both stood in the classroom across from each other, a longing pain connecting you in silence. You didn't dare say a word, Ron’s revelation shocked you deeply.

“But you’re right—I make you angry, I make everything complicated. But I don't know how to stop it. I don’t know how to fix what we’ve broken."

You felt your heart ache as his words echoed in the room. It was the same self-doubt that had plagued him for years—the fear of losing you, of not being enough. But this time, you didn’t want to run from it. You didn’t want to hide behind walls you had built over the years. You wanted to be honest. For the first time, truly honest.

“I don’t think we’re broken, Ron,” you whispered, your voice steady now, despite the storm raging inside of you. “I think we’ve just... been afraid of what’s always been between us. All this time, we’ve been walking around in circles, too scared to admit it, too scared to let it out. But I can’t keep pretending anymore. I can’t keep pretending that you don’t mean everything to me. Because you do.”

Ron’s expression softened, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly, but his eyes remained focused on you. His brow furrowed with the faintest hint of a question, like he was trying to piece things together. “But why? Why now? Why after all this time?”

You swallowed hard, willing yourself to stay strong, to not look away. “Because it hurts. It's so annoying to fight with you.It's not just some fleeting feeling. It’s… everything. It’s you.”

There it was again—the silence. It was heavy and thick, wrapping around both of you, suffocating and beautiful all at once. You were standing there, laid bare before him, your emotions spilling out, and there was no turning back.

Ron took another step closer, his eyes never leaving yours, searching. “I didn’t want to make you feel that way," he said, his voice a little hoarse now, the vulnerability seeping through his usual bravado. "I thought I was doing the right thing, pushing you away, acting like a git, like everything between us was just... normal. But it wasn’t normal. It was never normal.”

You nodded, feeling a lump form in your throat. “I know. But Ron, it’s been so hard. I’ve been so angry, and I couldn’t figure out why. But I think... I think it’s because I wanted you. I wanted us—I just didn’t know how to make it happen. And it terrified me. It still does.”

Ron was standing right in front of you now, his chest close enough that you could feel his warmth, the scent of him—the familiar, comforting smell of his shampoo mixed with something uniquely Ron. He seemed unsure, uncertain, but there was something in the way he looked at you now that made your chest tighten.

"I don't know what to do with any of this," he admitted, his voice barely above a breath. "I was scared too. Scared of losing you, scared of messing things up… scared that you'd never look at me the same way again."

You took a step forward, closing the space between you. “We can't push this away anymore.”

He stared at you, his eyes searching yours like he was trying to figure out if this was real. “And if I don’t know how to... how to do this? How to... us?”

You placed your hand gently on his arm, feeling the steady pulse of his heartbeat under your fingertips. “We’ll figure it out. Together. We don’t have to have all the answers right now. But we can start by not pretending anymore, not hiding behind all the things we’ve been afraid of.”

Ron’s lips parted, his eyes glimmering with something tender and hesitant, but there was no anger now, no distance. Just raw honesty.

The breath you had been holding escaped in a slow exhale as you took another step closer, your heart racing. For the first time in what felt like forever, everything inside you seemed to settle, like the storm had passed and the calm was finally here. You were standing there, in front of him, not pretending, not hiding, just... being.

“I want that,” you whispered, barely able to breathe with the hope that now swirled around you both.

And without another word, Ron gently cupped your face in his hands, his touch warm and tender, and you didn’t pull away. Instead, you closed your eyes, letting yourself sink into the moment. He leaned in, his lips brushing yours softly, hesitantly, as if testing the waters, before pulling back slightly.

“I don’t want to fight anymore,” he murmured against your lips.

You smiled, a small, genuine smile that reached your eyes. “Neither do I.”

And for the first time in what felt like an eternity, there was peace between you two.

#harry potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter x reader #harry potter headcanon #harrypotter #harry potter fanfiction #hogwarts #ron weasly x reader #ron weasly imagine #ron weasley smut #ronald weasley #ron weasley #ron x reader

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remuslut · 2 years ago

Note

Hiii um I love soft dom Ron? Like the type to eat you out till you cry all because a male student made a pass at you. I feel like he’s be very possessive and clingy :3

softdom!ron blurb<33

A/N: my first request!! ahhh i’m so excited

Warnings: all characters are of age, smut, nsfw, oral (fem receiving)

you’re not really sure how you ended up here, but shit did it feel good. your boyfriend ron was the jealous type, and when he got jealous he got rough. he was usually a very soft lover, but you knew when he went down on you immediately you were in trouble. his head was currently in between your thighs and he was holding them so hard there would be bruises. his mouth knew your womanhood so well it hurt after while, but he was still gentle as ever.

“just gotta remind you im the only one who can make you feel this good love..”

he mumbled into your clit as your thighs shook and you approached your 3rd orgasm that night. his tongue attacked your lips as you let out the most pornographic moan and once you were done he gave your clit one last kiss before whispering in your ear

“you’re always so good for me.. let’s get you cleaned up yeah?”

#hp smut #ron x reader #ron weasley smut #hp x reader #rwsmut #weasley smut #nsft concept

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eunoiaflow3r · 2 years ago

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mine - ron weasley x reader

requests open

taglist

warning(s): language, smut

word count: 1.9k

request(ed): fic where you saw ron and Hermione getting too close so you got mad and he was angry at you and gave you a punishment + Can you do anthor ron fic where the reader got jelly because she saw hermione and ron get close so she ignores him and he gets angry and puts her in her palce

summary: Y/N gets jealous and Ron has his way of reassuring her…characters 17+

—————————————————————

You weren’t even the one to notice it at first. Luna was at your side while you two studied on the lawn. There was a quiz in herbology and you desperately needed her help.

“They seem quite close.” Luna comments. You follow her eyes across the way to see Ron leaning against a pillar and Hermione in front of him holding her books and laughing at a joke he undoubtedly told. He smiled brightly and you watched as she leant out her arm to touch his.

Your heart kind of dropped but then you reminded yourself that they were friends. Just friends, and you didn’t need to worry.

At dinner you sat next to him and he pressed a kiss to your cheek and had his hand on your thigh as you two ate. You talked about your day and everything was pretty normal and you forgot what happened earlier - it became irrelevant, until the next day.

You didn’t see Ron at breakfast…or Hermione. Harry told you that they were in the hall studying for his test and normally it wouldn’t bother you except for the visuals you had of them yesterday. You trusted the both of them, sure, but it didn’t stop an insecurity from growing. You aren’t the type to compare yourself to another girl, but you can admit that his recent actions are hitting some kind of nerve.

———

“Hello Y/N!”

“Hi Y/N!”

Fred and George came over so that you were sat in the middle of them. You were on the couch in the Gryffindor common room writing a letter to your parents.

“Hey George, Fred. What are you guys up to?”

“Bored.” Fred answers.

“Are you doing anything interesting ?” George asks.

“Just writing.” You say.

You talk to them for a while until you all looked towards the portrait as it opened. You heard giggling and waited to see who would come out - Ron and Hermione. They both carried snacks and shared a bag of crisps.

“Hmmm.” Fred hummed.

“Hmmm indeed. They look cozy.” George whispered.

They both got up at the same time and rubbed Ron’s head as they left - probably to cause trouble somewhere. Hermione waved to you before going into her room, and Ron sat in the seat next to you, offering his crisps. You decline and feel yourself become stiff.

“Missed you today.” he says, going in to kiss your neck.

You move slightly so he doesn’t get the chance. “Where were you?”

He looks confused for a second at your movement but doesn’t comment. “With Hermione…and Harry. I’m sorry I’ve been distracted today.”

You hum. “Okay. I’m going to bed.”

“Already? It’s not even late yet.”

“I’m tired Ronald. Goodnight.”

You never called him by his full name but you must admit you were irritated. Yes he’s allowed to spend time with his friends, he doesn’t have to be around you 24/7…but them being so close just made you feel weird.

The next morning you woke up late…barely slept - tossing and turning thinking about Ron and Hermione. It made you sick to your stomach how seeing the two of them made you feel. And how could you even say anything? You would seem like a bad girlfriend if you brought it up. So you wouldn’t.

When you arrived at breakfast you saw Hermione next to Ron and Harry across from Ron. Hermione was stealing food off of Ron’s plate and he would pinch her every time she tried causing her to giggle. You couldn’t watch. It just seemed so flirty to you and you couldn’t stand it.

You decided to sit next to Blaise, as you haven’t caught up with him in a while. Yes he was friends with Draco and Pansy, sworn enemies to your friends but Blaise didn’t care about any of that. You two have been close since childhood. You told him what was troubling you (quiet enough so that Draco and Pansy couldn’t hear) and he told you that your feelings were valid. That Ron seemed good enough but his actions can definitely seem off putting.

———

Across the hall Ron watched as you sat next to Blaise and began to talk. He was aware of yours and his relationship but he didn’t understand why you’d rather sit next to Blaise than him. He was also confused as to why you were late to breakfast and short with him last night. It wasn’t until he saw Blaise whisper something into your ear that made you giggle that made him angry.

“Why is Y/N sitting over there?” Ron asked no one in particular.

Harry turned and saw and so did Hermione.

“That’s strange,” she commented. “I haven’t seen her much at all these past few days actually do you think she’s been with him?”

Ron didn’t like that comment. He wasn’t jealous, no, but it did irk him a bit. He’s been with Hermione and Harry…does that mean she’s been with Blaise?

When he saw you in the hall a few hours later he tried coming up and talking to you but you just gave him a quick look and walked away. That pissed him off. Now he realized what you were doing was intentional. He just couldn’t figure out why.

It happened again during your last class which you conveniently had together - you avoided him. Made sure that you always seemed to be busy in conversation with someone else so that he would look like the asshole if he interrupted. You were being coy and he knew it.

———

You had managed to ignore Ron all day. That was Blaise’a advice. Yes, it was petty, but you were mad. Give him a taste of his own medicine. It hurt because you missed him, and you thought about how this might push Ron towards Hermione more but if Ron didn’t notice your absence then you shouldn’t be together.

You sat in the common room, playing a game with Luna when Ron made his way over.

He leans down so that his lips are next to your ear.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

You roll your eyes.

“And so what if I have? Didn’t think you’d notice anyway.”

He clenched his jaw and didn’t say anything for a moment. You got nervous but continued your game.

“C’mon, let’s go.”

“I’m playing this -“

“Y/N.”

And that’s all it took. You followed him into his room and watched as he cast a spell to lock the door. You took a seat on his bed and watched as he took his robes off and began loosening his tie.

“So what’s going on?”

“Nothing.” You say.

“Don’t say that. I know it’s something, don’t lie to me.”

You cross your arms and stare at the floor.

“If you can hang out with your…friend…Then I should be able to hang out with mine, right?”

Ron took a moment to thing as he leaned against his dresser so that he was sitting on it. Then it clicked for him. Hermione. Blaise.

He grinned, but you could tell he wasn’t happy.

“So, you see Hermione and I together, and instead of communicating your feelings, you decide to make me jealous and angry by hanging out and flirting with Blaise?”

“I wasn’t trying to - wasn’t trying to make you jealous. I went to him for advice.”

He shakes his head. “What I’m hearing is you don’t trust me. Don’t trust me enough be loyal and respect your, our, boundaries.

I don’t want anyone but you, and I thought we were on the same page. I love you. Don’t want anyone but you, wouldn’t even dare look at anyone else the way I look at you. You should feel comfortable enough to talk to me when you’re feeling some kind of way.”

You were silent. He was right. You should have just talked to him. He would have understood.

“I’m sorry.” You say.

He nods towards his bed. “Undress please.” he comes closer as you do. “Obviously I have to show you to trust me.”

You have to admit, you were excited, but nervous.

He moves you up so that your head was on his pillows and he was in between your legs. He leans down so that his lips were right above yours and waits until you make the first move. You lift your chin up and he kisses you, hard, and passionately. His hand makes his way up to your neck and squeezes gently which makes you moan into his mouth. When he takes his hand away you whine until he pulls away and pulls your arms so that they’re above your head.

He removes his tie and ties your wrists to the headboard.

“Ron, please…”

He knew you loved to touch. Loved your fingers in his hair or on his back, around his neck. He was taking that privilege away and kissing down your neck. He took a moment to take one of your nipples into his mouth while he massaged the other. When he was done, he switched sides until finally he was ready to leave more wet kisses down your body.

When he got to just below your belly button he took his thumb to rub at your clit. You moaned and tried to pull your arms away from the headboard. You wanted to touch, so bad.

“Ron, oh God.” You whined.

He kept rubbing as he back up so that he was on his stomach, arms positioned under your legs, hands on your breasts, and face near your heat.

He leans down and licks a stripe up until he gets to your clit - there he sucks until your moans turn into pleads.

You try to close your legs or move but he holds them apart as he continues the pressure against your clit. He brings his middle and ring finger to your mouth and tells you to suck while he starts to flick his tongue against you. Once he’s satisfied he brings his fingers down to gently press against your entrance.

Ron puts one finger in and you moan.

“Ron! Please, please, please, more.”

“You think you deserve more baby?” He moans into you. “Think your pussy deserves to cum tonight?”

Your whine is nearly a cry. You’re just wishing and hoping he adds another finger.

“Tell me who I belong to Y/N. Let me hear you say it.”

“Mmmm. You belong to me Ron please, more.”

“I belong to you hmmm? Say it louder, I wanna believe it.”

“Fuck, Ron, You’re mine Ron please, please, please.”

He adds another finger, and continues a steady rhythm while pressing kisses to the insides of your thighs.

“And you belong to me baby. You’re all mine, and you’re gonna gonna cum on my fingers, okay? Want you to cum for me, can you do that?”

“Yes. Yes. Yes please Ron I wanna cum for you.”

He brings his tongue back to your pussy and begins licking your clit fast while pushing his fingers in and out of you curving them slightly as to hit your g-spot.

“I’m close Ron, fuck! I’m close, I’m close, I’m close.”

Ron practically grins against your pussy and goes faster.

“You’re close? Cum for me baby. Cum for Daddy, wanna taste you on my tongue.”

He continues and you fight against the restraint as you moan loudly and cum. Your fingernails were dug into your palms and there were nearly tears in your eyes. You felt so good. He made you feel so good.

He got up so that he could untie you.

“I’m sorry if I made you feel like I was anyone’s but yours. No one can ever compare to you. You’re forever mine, and I’m eternally yours.”

——————

The End😭 Goodnight y’all. I suck at endings.

#ron wealsey x y/n #ron weasley #ron wealsey x reader #ron weasley smut #ron wealsey oneshot #harry potter angst #harry potter x reader #harry potter smut #hp x reader #ron x reader #weasley x reader #harry potter universe

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claymoresword · 2 years ago

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I Choose Her | Chp: 12

Hermione Granger x Slytherin Fem!Reader

Summary: You are the daughter of known death eaters from one of the richest and oldest wizarding family. Are you prepared to abandon everything you know for Hermione Granger?

Pairing: Hermione x Reader

Wordcount: 4.5k

Warnings: smut, nsfw, cunnilingus, strap on use, g!p, dark themes, mention of death and murder

Note: hello! it's good to be back i missed writing this story and im so glad to have finally found the motivation to continue on with it lol

just a disclaimer, a fair portion of this is just smut so as usual if u need to skip it watch out for the asterisks :)

that's all, hope u enjoy!

taglist: @gvrsto @aweidlich @xxsekhmet @arielj @poppyflower-22 @scarleigh1989 @smut-religiously777 @coralieesau @blackbirdv98

You’re awoken in the middle of the night by Hermione snuggling closer to you, searching for warmth. Instinctively you wrapped your arm around her before grabbing the covers draping it over the both of you.

You feel Hermione shiver under your hold and it was then you finally took notice of the drop in temperature.

Glancing at the fire pit in the corner you quickly received an explanation for the cold surrounding you.

“The fire's gone out.” You grumble, voice heavy from sleep.

Hermione merely lets out a groan against your chest before you feel her attempt to get out of your hold.

Your girlfriend climbs out of bed and you begin drifting off before you’re jolted awake again by the sound of Hermione rummaging through something.

Opening your eyes slightly, you’re met with the sight of your girlfriend sticking her hand in the pockets of your slacks and blazer that had been strewn on the floor.

Hermione soon notices your gaze that was fixed on her.

“Where’s your wand?” Your girlfriend asks, gesturing to your pants.

“Blazer, inner pocket.” In your half asleep state, you answered without hesitation.

You found it odd that she would ask to use your wand, considering how protective she was of her own.

Abandoning your desire to continue your slumber you finally sit up, silently observing as Hermione expertly uses a spell to re light the flame.

Once your girlfriend was satisfied that the fire was big enough, she quickly sat your wand back down on the ground before making her way back to join you in bed.

“Why’d you need my wand for? Where’s yours?” You asked as she climbs under the covers, wrapping an arm across your abdomen as her legs intertwined with yours.

Hermione hums at the feeling of your much needed body heat before responding.

“Harry has mine.” She states and your expression further contorts in confusion.

“Why?” You ask.

“I sort of broke his.. while we were at Godric’s Hollow.” Hermione admits timidly and you couldn’t help the laugh that falls out of your lips and your girlfriend scowls.

“Don’t laugh!” Hermione scolds, she tries to glare at you but it was so half hearted you could not find it in yourself to be intimidated by it.

You leaned down to place a tender kiss against her forehead, a silent apology for laughing at her expense.

“How on earth did you manage that?” You ask, carefully tracing circles against her side with your finger and you feel her relax once again in your arms.

“Well, I was holding onto his wand and when I threw a curse with my own, it rebounded.” Hermione explains and you nod in understanding.

“Ah, I see. Was he angry?” You ask and Hermione shrugs.

“He’s always angry at something lately, I hardly noticed.” Your girlfriend’s tone was soft and you regretted starting the conversation in the first place.

“Still cold?” You deliberately changed the subject.

“A bit.” Hermione says and you pull her in closer, a gesture she appreciated.

You tilted your head to plant another kiss on the top of Hermione’s head, focusing on the feeling of her shoulders rising and falling as she breathed, the faint scent of her shampoo, the way her skin felt against yours.

You find yourself committing the details to memory, relishing in the stillness.

With Hermione, time stops, and you are the only two people in existence. In her presence nothing was wrong. You felt at peace, and you never wanted it to end.

You reach down to intertwine your fingers with Hermione’s and she takes note of your silence, she looks up to catch your distant gaze as you were deep in thought.

Hermione lifts her head to place a quick kiss on the corner of your mouth.

“What are you thinking about?” Hermione asks.

You meet her concerned gaze and you simply can’t fathom how anybody could possibly be this alluring. Hermione was delicate and yet so dangerously irresistible.

“I’m thinking about you.” You answer honestly.

“Oh.” Hermione says as her expression shifts to a bashful one and you decided to continue making her blush.

“I’m thinking about how you are truly the most gorgeous woman I have ever laid eyes on.” You add and you could practically feel the heat emanating from Hermione’s face as she grew more shy under your heavy gaze.

“I was also thinking about how I can’t wait for all of this to be over, so we can go wherever we like and spend as much time as we want alone, just the two of us.” You add.

Hermione’s eyes now mirroring the heavy longing that’s reflected in yours. She leans in to capture your lips into a deep kiss, you can feel her adoration and desire for you at all at once and it takes your breath away.

“That sounds perfect, y/n.” Your girlfriend says once she’s pulled away, she runs her fingers to your hair and you instinctively shut your eyes at the sensation.

You move your hand underneath the covers to rest on her waist, Hermione captures your lips into another kiss, this time its urgent and desperate, her tongue enters your mouth and you feel a familiar wave of arousal spread across your body.

You swiftly moved your other hand to her waist, expertly manoeuvring so that Hermione was on her back on the bed, her head resting on the pillow.

You break the kiss to turn your attention to her neck planting open mouthed kisses against it.

Slipping your hand underneath Hermione’s pullover, feeling her goose bumps form underneath your touch.

You place a quick peck against Hermione’s cheek before moving your head further down, lifting the garment to expose her taut stomach.

You intentionally run your tongue across Hermione’s navel before playfully biting at the skin directly above it and Hermione gasps, her hand reflexively finds the back of your head as you worked your way up her belly, carefully licking and nipping until eventually settling just below her chest.

“Take this off.” You order and Hermione doesn’t hesitate to lift her sweater over her head, tossing it to the side.

You began lowering your head but Hermione quickly halts your movements with a hand on your shoulder.

“Kiss me.” Your girlfriend says, already pulling you closer by the collar.

You happily oblige, crashing your lips, your mouth moves against her, gentle but firm, and Hermione let’s out a sigh in contentment.

You finally pull away only to trace kisses across her collar bone and down her chest, eventually settling on her nipples. Swiping your tongue across one of them, you hear Hermione let out another gasp.

You took that as a sign to carry on.

You finally take one of her nipples into your mouth, sucking and licking at it simultaneously and feeling it harden against your tongue as you do.

Hermione chokes out a moan at the sensation, her back arches off the bed making her pelvis rub up against your stomach, and you swiftly place a hand against her abdomen, pinning her to the bed.

Your girlfriend’s moans are more frequent now that you’ve turned your attention to her other nipple, moving your mouth against it in a way you know would leave Hermione wanting for more.

You deliberately ran your tongue down her body, returning your attention around her navel and then slightly lower, you pull down Hermione’s sweatpants a little but not all the way and she groans.

“I want it off, please.” Your girlfriend begs, tugging at the hem of her pants that you were holding firmly in place.

“So impatient.” You remark teasingly but soon moving your fingers to pull them off as she asked.

Hermione was now laying naked underneath you and you couldn’t help but ravage her with your eyes shamelessly.

You will never tire at the sight of her like this.

“What do you want, baby?” You ask, your mouth directly by her ear.

“My fingers?” You reached down to swipe a finger across her already drenched folds, before applying pressure on her clit with your palm.

Hermione doesn’t respond, instead she has her eyes closed as she whimpers helplessly, rolling her hips trying to gain more friction.

“Or my tongue?” You offer her the option before placing an open mouthed kiss against her jaw.

“Yes.. your tongue– please.” Hermione says and her eagerness causes a grin to form on your face.

You decide to not make her wait any longer as you quickly settled your head in between her legs, your hot breath against her core causes Hermione to squirm impatiently.

Your mouth finally makes contact with her weeping pussy, her slick coating your tongue as you ran it through her folds and Hermione let’s out an unrestrained moan, definitely loud enough to be heard outside the confines of your tent, but your girlfriend is too far gone to care.

Hermione grips a handful of your hair, trusting her hips at an attempt to match the rhythm of your tongue. She’s using your mouth mercilessly, working to her release at her own accord and it made you weak.

You shift your mouth slightly, prodding at her entrance with your tongue, and her gasp morphs into a whimper when you push it further in, feeling her walls contract as she accommodates the much welcomed intrusion.

You remove your tongue only to repeat the motion, your thumb rubbing at her sensitive nub, quickly urging her climax.

Before either of you realise it Hermione’s legs are trembling as she reaches her peak, it happens quickly and suddenly, directly in your mouth.

“Y/n..” Your name falls from her lips so gracefully and you have to stop yourself from asking her to utter it again.

“Yes sweetheart, are you okay?” You respond before moving up to rest your weight on your forearms, your face now hovering over hers.

Hermione’s look of pure desire as your eyes meet only further ignited your visceral ache for her, you wanted to spend the remainder of your days worshipping her.

Your girlfriend lifts her head up slightly to connect your lips, her tongue shamelessly moving against yours, tasting her own release.

You groaned as Hermione grips the back of your neck before leaning back until only the tip of your tongue in between her lips, she then moves her face forward once again and began sucking on it, the kiss was bold, it lacked Hermione’s usual apprehension and you wonder why she’s spent so long holding back, knowing what she is capable of.

In heated desperation, you grind your hips against Hermione and she lets out a moan at the sensation, your girlfriend releases your tongue as her mouth fell open.

As her eyes met yours she gives you a knowing look, one you could immediately read without the need of a verbal confirmation.

“Do you want to?” You ask expectantly and Hermione takes her bottom lip in between her teeth to keep her arousal at bay before nodding her head eagerly.

You quickly move off the bed stripping out of your underwear and pullover, you grab your wand of the floor, swiftly waving it over your groin.

You toss your wand back onto the ground before you began stroking the newly formed length in between your legs, eagerly climbing back into bed.

Hermione watches you intently as you settled on top of her, she wastes no time in wrapping her legs around your waist and you were nearly as impatient as her, as you immediately lined up the tip of your length to her entrance, thrusting forward, sheathing yourself inside your girlfriend’s wanting cunt.

You both gasp at the feeling, Hermione’s hands finding your back and you wince at the familiar sting as her fingernails dug into your skin, blurring the lines between pain and pleasure.

You pull out of her slightly to thrust your hips forward again as Hermione captures your lips with her own, resulting in her moaning directly into your mouth.

Soon finding a steady momentum, Hermione's whimpering and moaning as you moved your hips skilfully. Your cock was hitting deep inside her at just the right angle, making it impossible for her to do anything else beyond let you take her completely, at an unforgiving pace.

“Fuck‐ Hermione.” You groan as her walls were clenching against your length with every thrust, causing a bit of resistance.

Your girlfriend tries to respond but what comes out of her instead are incoherent sobs.

The pleasure coursing through her was overwhelming, her hand eventually falls from your back, laying helplessly on the bed and you move your own hand from her hip to place it over hers to intertwine your fingers.

Hermione holds your hand firmly as you continued rutting into her, working towards your own pleasure.

“Mine.” You grunt.

“You’re mine.” You repeat mid thrust and Hermione’s words continue to fail her, she merely guides your face closer to hers by your neck, pulling you into a passionate kiss.

Once your lips left hers, you leaned forward to nip at her neck, sucking on her skin till you left a bruise and this works to ultimately tip her over the edge, Hermione comes undone underneath you and the sight of her head thrown back in pleasure, mouth agape, urges the coil in the pit of your stomach to tighten. Your name falling from her lips as her orgasm rips through her was enough to cause it to snap.

You reach your own climax soon after your girlfriend, your body flush against hers as you lacked the strength to hold yourself up any longer.

════════════════════════════════════════════

“Here you go.” Harry hands you the plate of breakfast after warming it over the fire.

“Thanks, mate.” You offer him a half smile, one he quickly reciprocated.

You walk over to the table joining Hermione and Ron. The way their heads snapped in your direction as soon as you stepped closer indicates that you had interrupted a private conversation.

“Is everything alright?” You ask, setting your food down on the table while taking a seat next to Hermione.

“Ofcourse.” Hermione says cordially before leaning in to give you a peck on the cheek, but you cheekily turn your head just in time, catching her lips with yours.

Hermione blushes and you relished at the feeling of Ron staring daggers into the side of your face.

You glance at your cup of coffee, lifting the mug up to your lips taking a sip, until finally allowing your eyes to land on Ron. The deep scowl on his face shows that he was about to snap any moment, and your predictions proved correct once he utters his next words.

“No, actually everything is not alright.” Ron snaps at you and Hermione sighs.

“Some of us need sleep you know, I’d appreciate it if you could keep it down next time.” Ron scowls and you watched as Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat, still keeping his head down.

“We will Ron, it won’t happen again.” Hermione reassures him and it was your turn to scowl, but your expression quickly turns into a smirk once a response dawns on you.

“Why were you even listening, Weasley?” You ask, and Ron stares at you like you’ve grown a second head.

Your smirk doesn’t falter and it only grows into a grin the longer he took to respond.

“I mean, you could’ve easily casted a silencing jinx, but you didn’t.” You taunt him further.

You feel Hermione grip your arm harshly.

“That’s enough.” Your girlfriend scolds but you fail to acknowledge her, not breaking the tense eye contact with Ron.

“Maybe you liked listening to us fuck. I bet you'd stay up all night to listen if you could.” You add and it works to get the desired reaction out of him.

Ron slams his fists against the table, standing up in his seat and you stand soon after, accepting the challenge.

“I don’t have to prove anything to a classist snob like you.” He counters.

“You think you’re so much better than us but you’re nothing more than a rich slag.” Ron says and for the first time his words actually graze you.

“Yeah? Is that all you got?” You challenge anyway.

“Stop it! Both of you, that’s enough!” Hermione interjects before tugging on your sleeve, forcing you to sit back down.

“You are behaving like a child.” Hermione’s says, her brows knitted together in anger as she glares at you and you couldn’t hold her gaze.

You bite the inside of your cheek, admittedly feeling slightly embarrassed with your conduct.

Going back to picking at your food, you watch in the corner of your eye as Ron took a seat, Harry clears his throat but it does nothing to break the tension in the air.

The four of you ate in uncomfortable silence before Hermione addresses Harry.

“Harry, I think we should go see Xenophilius Lovegood.” Your girlfriend blurts out.

“Sorry?” Harry asks, understandably confused.

Hermione reaches over your lap to grab her book, flipping over to a certain page before pushing it towards Harry.

“See this? This is letter Dumbledore wrote to Grindlewald. Look at the signature.” Hermione says, pointing to the page and a realisation washes over you and Harry at the same time.

“It’s the mark again. It keeps popping up. In Beetle the Bard, the graveyard in Godric’s Hollow.” She adds.

“It was there too.” Harry says, recalling his visions.

“Where?” You ask.

“Outside Gregorovitch’s wand shop.” Harry explains.

“What does it mean?” Ron asks stupidly and you suppress the urge to roll your eyes.

“Look, you’ve got no idea where the next horcrux is and neither do I.” Your girlfriend says, referring to Harry.

“But this means something. I’m sure of it.” She adds gesturing to the symbol in the book.

════════════════════════════════════════════

The four of you were sat in Mr Lovegood’s living room. What immediately occurred to you was how Luna didn’t make her way to greet any of you. There was something wrong but you could not say exactly what, still the feeling gnaws at you incessantly for the entirety of the conversation.

“How can I help you Mr Potter?” Xenophilius asks.

“Well, actually it’s about something you were wearing around your neck at the wedding. It was a symbol.” Harry says.

“You mean this?” Mr Lovegood retrieves the pendant from under his clothes, holding it up.

“Yes, that exactly.” Harry says, reaching up to touch it.

“What we were wondering was.. well what is it?” Harry asks.

“This is the symbol of the Deathly Hallows ofcourse.” Mr Lovegood states like it is the most obvious thing in the world and your brows furrow in confusion, you glance at Hermione to see a similiar expression plastered across her face.

“The what?” The four of you ask in unison.

“Well, I assume you’re all familiar with the tale of The Three Brothers.” The man states.

You Hermione and Ron nod, but Harry was quick to react oppositely.

“No.” He says.

“Well, I have it here.” Hermione says, flipping through her book before beginning to read the story aloud. It is one you’ve heard multiple times in your childhood but you assumed it to be an old legend, certainly nothing credible enough to have a symbol made after it.

Hermione finishes reading the tale and none of you grew any less confused.

“I’m sorry sir but I still don’t quite understand.” Harry admits for all four of you.

Xenophilius abruptly stands up from his seat, rummaging through his things in the corner but before you could question it he returns with a pecil and a piece of paper, he sits down in the middle so the parchment was visible to all of you.

He began drawing a straight line down the middle of the page.

“The elder wand.” He states.

He resumes, drawing an oval like shape over the wand.

“The resurrection stone.”

He then draws a triangle around the two objects, encapsulating it.

“The cloak of invincibility.” He finally state and your eyebrows raised in shock, you don’t understand how you went your entire life knowing nothing of this.

“Together they make the Deathly Hallows. Together they make one master of death.” Xenophilius states and you couldn’t help the cold chill that runs through you.

“That mark was on the grave in Godric’s Hollow.” Hermione says.

“Mr Lovegood does the Peverell family have anything to do with the Deathly Hallows?” Your girlfriend asks and Xenophilius’ shift in demeanour was sudden, truthfully it was unsettling.

“Ignotus and his brothers Cadmus and Antioch were thought to be the original owners of the Hallows and therefore the inspiration for the story.” He explains, walking past all four of you, avoiding all eye contact and you follow after him, however now remaining at a distance.

He scrambles with the tea kettle, with anything he can find, desperately trying to make himself look busy.

“Ah, but your tea’s gone cold. I’ll be right back.” Mr Lovegood says, quickly disappearing from the room.

You suddenly felt like you’ve overstayed your welcome.

“Let’s get out of here. I’m not drinking anymore of that stuff hot or cold.” You say and Ron nods, agreeing with you.

Your girlfriend was first to make her way down the stairs and the three of you followed suit, once you got to the bottom of it you spot Mr Lovegood by the window staring out into his yard, aimlessly, as he muttered to himself.

The gnawing feeling returns, you know something is really wrong here.

“Thank you, Sir.” Hermione bravely speaks first and he visibly flinches at the sound of her voice.

He turns to look at the four of you with a scattered expression, almost like he had entirely forgotten you were in his home in the first place.

“You forgot the water.” Ron says.

“What?” Mr Lovegood asks.

“For the tea.” You clarify for Ron.

He turns his attention to you, and his hollowed expression shifts into an amused one and you wince.

“Yes, ofcourse, how silly of me.” He says through a fit of giggles.

“It’s alright, Sir. We really should be going.” Harry tries.

“No! You can’t!” Mr Lovegood rushes over to the front door, slamming it shut before barring it with his own body.

You instinctively reach out to grab Hermione’s hand, and she immediately holds onto you tightly.

“Sir?” Harry asks, stepping closer to the man.

In this moment, you didn’t know what to think but you knew what you felt.

You feel it in your arm, as the dark mark begins pulsing uncontrollably for the first time in weeks.

“Hermione, we need to apparate. Now.” You whisper to your girlfriend but she’s not listening.

“You're my only hope.” Xenophilius says, his voice crippled with sadness, with fear.

“They were angry you see. So they took her.. They took my Luna.”

“But it’s really you they want.” Mr Lovegood adds as he traces Harry’s scar with his thumb and your other hand moves to grip Hermione’s arm holding her close.

“Who took her sir?” Harry asks boldly, foolishly.

“Hermione..” You say, trying to get her attention again but it was too late.

Xenophilius speaks the Dark Lord’s name and before any of you can comprehend, the house was shaking uncontrollably as a variety of curses was thrown at you, but your only priority was to protect Hermione.

You ignore the nearly unbearable pain in your arm, crawling towards her, you finally grabbed hold of her again and make a move to apparate but she stops you.

“Wait! Wait for them!” She shouts over the loud crashing as a spell breaks one of the windows next to you.

You almost disobey her request but Harry and Ron get to you just in time, they place their hands over yours and the four of you apparate out of Mr Lovegood’s home, or what’s left of it atleast.

“Treacherous little bleeder. Is there no one we can trust?” Ron says once you’ve arrived back at the forest of dean.

“They kidnapped her because he supported me. He was just desperate.” Harry defends.

You glance over at Hermione and immediately pulled her into an embrace which she reciprocated.

“Are you alright?” You ask, holding her face in your hands.

“Yes, I’m fine.” Hermione assures you but her voice was still trembling from the shock of what just happened.

As it appears, the nightmare was only beginning as you catch a glimpse of a face you really did not want to see, especially not here, not with Hermione.

Scabior and his band of snatchers, standing only a few feet away from the four of you.

You didn’t have a chance to apparate again, your only choice in this moment was to run.

In the midst of it you get separated from Hermione, although you can see her in a distance, fighting the men off the best she could before a spell is thrown in her way which she could just barely deflect.

They have her.

You lose your balance, entirely focused on your girlfriend, you forget how to run with your own two feet.

Now they have you as well.

Greyback has your arms in a death grip. The more you fought to get out of its hold the more it hurt.

You catch a glimpse of Harry next to you and noticed his swollen face.

You were certain that was Hermione’s doing so he remains unrecognisable.

She is brilliant for thinking on her feet but you weren’t sure it would be enough to keep the four of you safe.

“What happened to you ugly?” Scabior asks but Harry remains silent.

“Name?” He tries again.

“Dudley. Vernon Dudley.” Harry answers almost a beat too quick.

“Check it.” He orders and the other snatcher began looking through his log book.

Scabior takes a step closer to Hermione and you begin to feel an intolerable pounding in your head.

“And you lovely, what do they call you?” He asks her, reaching out to touch her hair.

“Penelope Clearwater. Halfblood.” Hermione answers and Scabior doesn’t care enough to listen, instead his face inches closer to hers, much too close, and you watched as your girlfriend winces.

You are overcome with fury and you react quicker than you can think.

“Don’t touch her!” You yell and Scabior snapped his head in your direction.

His face contorts into something else, as if trying to understand where he recognised you from.

You catch the exact moment the realisation graces him and your blood runs cold.

A knowing smirk on his face as he stares at you, before shifting his gaze fleetingly towards Hermione and back to you once more.

“Let go of her.” Scabior says and Greyback does as he’s told immediately releasing you from his grip.

Scabior steps forward, fixing your coat, before running his hands roughly across your shoulders to dust them off.

“Change of plans. We’re not taking this lot to the Ministry.” He says.

#hermione granger imagine #slytherin au #hermione x reader #hermione granger #harry potter #harry x hermione #ron x hermione #ron x reader #hermione granger x reader

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