#Squib!Reader

[blue-asher]

Percy Weasley X Squib!Reader

Summary: when you try to buy a book by a Squib author Percy shields you from the discrimination of the bookshop owner.

Let's say that the Weasley family and the Golden Trio decided to go to Diagon Alley to buy supplies for the new school year and they invite you and your siblings (who attend Hogwarts; that's how you met them) to come along.

Their first stop was a library where they got the essentials like paper and quills. There you decided to treat the trio and bought some matching pens that had witches' hats on them. Ron was the most intrigued out of the three.

Then you go to a bookshop with the list of required books in hand. It was then that problems arrised.

Once you enter the bookshop you all part different ways to find your things: Hermione goes straight to grab the school books so as to check out the novels later, Ron and Harry go the adventure books first so as to go for the school ones later, Ginny and her mother look into the new Lockheart's novel and Mr. Weasley went to look after the twins (as instructed by his wife) but soon lost track of them.

And, although you didn't notice at first, Percy decides to look out for you (his words, what if you got lost in all the sections and ended up in a shopping spree) and see if you actually had good taste in books at all—not because he was taking notes for next birthday presents, of course. He also didn't want to leave you alone. The rest of the lot had actual things to do in there and went straight to crossing names from their lists. All of them walked in different directions with confidence, like men on a mission. So he was fairly surprised when you did as well. He wanted to know what you were up to.

He considered going up to you and ask you what you thought about the bookshop after 15 minutes of just watching how you read the tilted of a couple books in sale. Until he saw you grab, rather excited, a particular book. Then the bookseller appeared.

"Good evening, young lady! I'm sorry to bother you but I couldn't help but notice that you picked up a particular book" the bookseller said anxiously "Memories of a forgotten kind. I hope it struck your interest, of course! but I must insist you buy it nonetheless" Y/N was quite shocked at the sudden approach and rambling of the man but she was just about to ask for more information about the magnificent book so she was glad the man came just in time.

The book in question is an elegant hard cover edition with beautiful art work in the front about philosophy. It was from a squib author that discussed the problems with Squib identity and how they perceived themselves in a world that seemed to want to label them one way or the other, essencially robbing them of the core of their existance: the middle. The author also included some biographical aspects in it to help make a point of his stand. You, being the same as him, were very excited to have found it as not only it spoke about an issue that had revolved around your self-confidence all your life (you had to admit you were just a tiny bit jealous of your siblings' magic) but because it was also a rare occurrence to find a squib author in general. Sadly, they rarely got published.

"You see, I've been having a real hard time to sell them. No one wants them—nobody could ever want them, really." His sudden statement quickly pulled you out of your thoughts as you were thinking about what to ask him first. You had just decided to ask whether the guy had written other books when he screamed that first statement.

"I shouldn't have made a deal with the man. I tried to diversify my collection, you know, my partner told me to. But I told him it was a bad idea, he just wouldn't listen" he continued rapidly ". I know everyone wants to say we are in modern times but business are business. You get me"

It was as if he was trying to excuse himself for even having the books in the shop; he didn't even stop to breath. You got concerned. Why was it difficult to sell? Had the writer been in some sort of scandal? Was the information in the book no longer valid? You didn't remember if you looked at the year of publishing but the book seemed brand new. Why was it in sale? It seemed like half the price a book so pretty.

"You don't seem too convinced. That's all right, I understand" you tried to pich in and tell him that he didn't understand at all because not even you understood what he was talking about. But he kept going "I'll make you a deal, just for you. You seemed like a lady of culture. How much is it? 400 sickles? I'll leave it to 300, what do you say?"

'I'll be damned' you thought. Shouldn't it be the other way around? What would he even gain from that amount? You finally got a moment to ask:

"I'm confused, It's such a beautiful edition with great quality, why is it so cheap? Did the author do something?"

You waited for his answer.

The bookseller looked at you like you just grew an extra head but quickly changed his expression to one of realisation "My apologies, ma'am. You mustn't have notice, how silly of me!" He spoke as if the fact was obvious but you still didn't understand. He composed himself and in a more calmer manner said "The author's a squib"

That's all he said.

And Percy thought he had already said enough.

You were stil expecting to hear something more, an aclaration, because clearly it didn't seem like a logical reason. What does that have to do with anything? You didn't have time to say anything else as Percy suddenly appeared beside you and put his hand on your shoulder. You looked at him but his gazed was fixed from above into the bookseller's eyes.

"I think we have heard enough desperate rambling from you. No wonder you can't sell a book for the life of it." His tone was cold and it shocked you greatly. You hadn't seen Percy this angry before, you hadn't ever heard him insult another adult like that.

The bookseller went off pretty angry and told the both of you to not bother coming back if you weren't going to buy a proper book. You were pretty sure you heard him say something about you only looking into the Sale section, most likely an insult.

However, you thought it had all went down hill unnecessarily and were about to question Percy's sudden change of attitude but when you turned you noticed that he was already looking at you. With a sad warmness in his gaze.

"He meant the writer, Y/N"

You stared at him for a few seconds and blinked "What?"

"He meant that the books didn't sell because the writer's a squib"

You felt embarrassed because of how long it took you to pick up on the que. Angry embarrassed. You had just made a fool of yourself, in front of Percy! Just when you thought you had dominated that kind of anti-squib talking.

In the end everyone left without buying a single textbook from the place, not wanting to support such a prick. But not before your siblings gave the bookseller a piece of their mind and spoke every insult the could come up with.

You insisted to the Weasleys that they didn't have to leave: they needed the books and the other bookshop was a good 20 minutes away. Hermione gave a nasty look to anyone who seemed tempted on the idea of buying the books and get the shopping over with. 'Anyone' being Ron -but just for a quick second.

Quickly you started making jokes about how you should have bought it either way because "Where else will I find a book so amazingly cheap? No, Y/N! You mustn't succumb to capitalism!! You have to support the writers" Your antics successfully made the trio and twins laugh and it was only then, when you wanted to raise your fist at the sky in a dramatic way, that you noticed that Percy had been holding your hand. Probably had since you left the bookshop. When you looked at him he sheepishly let go while giving you a shy smile.

You wished he hadn't.

A couple of days later you family had the Weasleys over for a farewell dinner since everyone left the following day for Hogwarts.

Just when everyone had left and you were making yourself comfortable in your room, you noticed a wrapped package in your bed. A gift that was not there before. It was very clearly a book but it didn't have any note as to who might have left it. Did the Weasleys leave a gift for you? You didn't see anyone entering your room.

Dying with curiosity, you opened to see what it was and find a clue of who your mystery friend might be.

It was the philosophy book you had tried to buy a few days ago! You were admiring it with delight when you noticed something falling from the inside of it.

A piece of paper had fallen, it was receipt! From a library you didn't know and where it stated that the book had been purchased at a price much suitable for its quality; probably the original price that the bookseller had tried reducing to nothingness the other day.

But there was something else written at the back of the receipt, something in handwriting.

"Proof that I've bought it at full price.

Found a new bookshop with a section dedicated to squib writers, mind if we explore it together some time?"

You would recognize that handwriting anywhere, and would make sure to send Percy a package of his favourite chocolates with your next letter.

[rottenherbs]

Just a Squib (p.1) // F.W x squib reader

Word count: 2.2k

Tags: n/a

Summary: ((Request)) “Can I please request a Fred Weasley x muggle!fem!reader where she is Harry’s older sister or neighbor but she’s a squib. Fred had met Y/n all the way back when he, George, and Ron had rescued Harry from the Dursleys to get him back to Hogwarts and very quickly started dating ever since then and she ofc made frequent visits to the Burrow and spent a lot of time with the Weasley’s (both during the school year when the kids were gone and during Holidays when they were back) and Molly and Arthur honestly see her as their own daughter”

Authors note: This is only part one to a larger request! Hehe it shall develop over several chapters. You’ll have to wait and see how it ends <3

Much love, Saige

//Requests open//

[masterlist]

————

Listen, you’d never reveal that it was hard being Harry Potter's older sister. Especially since you had no powers, annnnd the wizarding world didn’t know about you. Your existence was kept under lock and key ever since Harry was given his scar. It was a better selling point to the ministry that a young only son was the lone survivor of the acts of wicked dark arts. You were only three when you and Harry became orphans, spending the rest of your growing childhood with your Aunt and Uncle.

There was always a sense of superiority they gave you over Harry. Your lack of powers made you more approachable and “normal”, but that didn’t stop you from always standing up for your brother against them. You often chalked it up to being older, or that you were a girl and they had some desire to raise a daughter. Often you ignored the disgusting actions of Dudley and tried to stay strong alongside Harry. It wasn’t until his 11th birthday that it was revealed to both of you that he had a gift. One that you did not share. From that moment on, a slight tinge of jealousy ran through you. Over the years you came to realize that his future was going to be much harder than yours, but it hurt you deeply that you didn’t have this family trait that he could share with your late parents. Claiming the title of a squib, you did your best to stay under the radar, soon being introduced to many magical creatures and figures as they entered Harry's life. It was hard when Harry first left for Hogwarts, leaving you alone with the Dursleys for an entire academic year. The emptiness inside you as you were separated from your only ties of blood relation.

Once he came back from his first year, you felt complete again. Over the summer you read and reread all of his old textbooks and tried to take in as much wizarding World information as you could. He loved having to explain and rehash stories of his days at Hogwarts. As the summer went on, mysterious and unexplainable magical events happened around the house. It always ended up with Harry being grounded or shunned entirely from the Dursleys. The summer was miserable for him and all he could do was count down the days before he would go back to Hogwarts.

One fateful night, the Dursleys had company over. They put you and Harry to work on many dishes and chores while they buttoned and straightened their ties. You thought about spitting in the food but you held back knowing that somehow it would be blamed on Harry. As the night commenced, you and Harry were shut up in separate bedrooms to avoid any noise between the two. You sat alone fiddling with your shirt trying to listen to the conversation downstairs when you heard banging and rustling next door. Eyes wide you realized something was going on. You heard two sets of footsteps and hushed whispers as they passed your doors and down the stairs. You crept to the door and opened it only a crack to see the top of Harry’s head vanish out of view. You slumped your shoulders and tip toed out attempting to follow after and get his attention.This was not a good idea.

Walking to the top of the stairs you realized it was too late. A small figure crouched near the kitchen island and with long floppy ears and gray skin was maneuvering a cake towards the Dursleys and company in the living room. Harry was walking behind the cake, hands outstretched in an effort to grab a stop altogether. The small figure snapped its fingers and the cake dropped dramatically on top of the older woman sitting on the sofa. Shrieks from everyone overtook your senses as the gravity of the situation developed. The dessert sopping down the sides of the woman’s face and over her clothes. Harry ran towards you up the stairs as Mr.Dursley followed suit quickly on his heel. You let Harry pass jumping in between him and Mr.Dursley holding him off for just a moment.

”Move girl!” He pushed you aside, gaining on your brother. You knew everything would change from here on out.

——

Locked away like a prisoner, Harry was kept in the spare bedroom. Bars were drilled into the window not even allowing his owl Hedwig freedom from the house. It was depressing and often you heard sobs coming from his room. It broke your heart how they treated him, but luckily for you, Harry made incredible friends the year prior.

You were awoken by the sound of a car outside the window. It sounded almost like it was on the second level, growling and humming with every press of the gas. Clanking and the sounds of thrown chains shook you out of bed as you rushed to look outside your window. You were right. It was a car! And it was hovering over twenty feet in the air! You rushed out of your bedroom and to Harry's room jumping to reach the spare key above the door frame. You opened it quickly and shut it behind you with ease.

”Who the hell is that?” A young boy whispered towards Harry. Just behind him were twins, each had the same firey hair as the first.

“No time! We have to go! NOW!” One of the twins shouted. You could hear the Dursleys door open down the hall, heavy footsteps following.

“WHAT IS HAPPENING!” Mr.Dursley shouted, you could hear him get closer with every step. Harry outstretched your hand initiating you to get in the car.

“You can’t be serious.” You whispered, grabbing it. You’d do anything to get out of this god forsaken house but this was not your first idea. You were stepping on the window sill hand reaching out for one of the twins absolutely horrified at how high you were up.

“I won't let you fall, but you need to jump. Quickly.” Twin one urged. He had to be around your age, freckles covering almost all of his features. You took a literal leap of faith and landed in the front seat on top of the boy. Quickly you got out of the way as Harry's bedroom door slammed open, Mr.Dursleys eyes wide, his face red with anger. Harry yelped as he jumped out of the window pushing his trunk in front of him. For only a moment Mr. Dursley got hold of Harry’s foot, the fight between the strength of the car and his grip. With a little help from you and the boys, Harry was released from Mr.Dursleys grip and all of you flew away haphazardly up into the clouds.

The first twin looked back at you with curiosity.

“Are you okay?” His eyes were concerned, but his face was ecstatic. “That was kinda fun right.” He laughed without breaking eye contact. All you could do was smile, not believing what was going on.

“It’ll be a’right.” He spoke again. He reached his hand out towards you. “I’m Fred, this is my brother George, and Ronald is right next to you.” He introduced all the red headed boys as they smiled back at you. “And you are?” Fred inquired. You took his hand, shaking it firmly.

“Y/n” you said simply.

“Just y/n?” Fred asked not releasing your hand. You kept shaking it as you spoke.

“Y/n Potter.”

And with that. The car went silent in disbelief.

——

Over the car ride Harry explained as best he could to the boys. They couldn't believe it. He had an older sister? Who didn’t have magic? All you could do was look out the window enjoying the breeze on your face trying to let Harry have control over the conversation. Every few minutes you kept looking over at the twins, lingering on Fred and noticing the small differences between them. His hair stood higher up on the right side. His ears were slightly smaller but the bridge of his nose was more prominent. They were twins for sure, but easily you could differentiate the two.

As the car turned the corner around a small mountain, a large towering house appeared in the middle of prairie land. It felt like it was built by hand, several wood planks holding it up precariously but in a whimsical way.

“You guys live here?” You gasped amazed as the horizon beamed with sunlight, illuminating the house like a painting.

“Yeah it's a little strange but-“ George started.

“No, it's perfect.” Harry intercepted. You both were transfixed by this cozy castle, only knowing the small house of the Dursleys your whole life. Smiles across all the Weasley boys' faces slowly grew as they descended down to the house.

They landed in a sloppy manner, bouncing the car against the grass a few times before coming to a full halt. Fred got out and opened your door and bowed dramatically.

”m’lady.” His head lowered as you exited the car.

“Why thank you m’lord,” you bowed back and laughed together. It was all peace until a large woman came rushing out.

”Where HAVE. YOU. BEEN.” She shouted pointing fingers at everyone, stopping for a moment and taking you and Harry in her arms.

”Oh dear, it’s wonderful to see you both.” Her body was warm as you both held her tightly. How did she know of you? The same looks crossed the boys faces before they were back to being scolded. You and Harry were ushered inside as the rest of the boys were reprimanded by their mother.

——

Over the next few weeks, life changed dramatically for you. Being immediately immersed in typical wizarding living, you learned quickly how Harry was so happy at school. The Weasley family took you in like their own, sharing hand me down clothes and explaining everything they could about daily life and what it was like. They told stories of your parents and how wonderful they were to be around. It felt like a dream.

You and the twins spent a lot of time together. It was nice having company of your age, and more mischievous and entertaining at that. While you liked the twins both, you and Fred often found yourself together alone. He liked to show you his knick knacks and ask you about your life with Harry. He continuously told you that he couldn't believe you were hidden from the wizarding general public, but he liked the mystery of you. Like typical teenage fashion, you developed a strong crush on him. The way he would take time to greet you in the morning, pulling your chair out for breakfast jokingly yet sweetly. Always getting up and retrieving anything he thought you would need. His brother would make fun of him for his quick change of demeanor but he chalked it up to ‘just being an honorable host’.

Just before the end of the summer you and Fred secretly became a couple. You only held hands at night and away from everyone. Giggling and hiding under blankets and running through the fields together. It was something special. The idea of him going back to school broke your heart, but he promised to write every day. You worried that they would send you back to the Dursleys once the rest of the boys would go to Hogwarts; and reluctantly you prepared yourself for the worst as the days got closer.

”It’ll be a little nicer with all the boys gone don't you think.” Ginny inquired, your head stuck in a book.

“Yeah it’ll definitely be quieter.” You mumble, trying not to think of it.

“Maybe me and you could start a garden. Or we could take up knitting like muggles. By hand!” She jumped to her feet in excitement. You could see the wheels turning in her head. You loved her enthusiasm and watched her rush away.

“Let me ask mum!” Her ginger locks flicked in the wind as she turned the corner. You looked around the living room, enveloped in the candle light antique items. It was beautiful. Ginny came back quickly and out of breath.

”Mum said it was up to you.” Her hands on her knees, dramatically heaving.

“I get to stay?” You ask, closing the book on your lap.

”Of course you get to stay dear!” Mrs.Weasley shouted from the other room. She peaked her head around the corner looking at you both.

”I could never in good conscience send you back to that house. They put bars on the window for heaven's sake!” Your entire body relaxed into the couch. A sense of euphoria that you were welcomed in their home.

“I’m never leaving.” You whisper to yourself.

[princesspuffle8]

Alioth Sirius Black

Your second child with Regulus had him questioning a lot of things. Although he loved his son with all his heart, this baby of yours was born without magical abilities. A squib. Which sent Regulus into a bit of an emotional spiral: questioning his pure blood status and the atrocities the black family did in the name of it, whether or not he would be a good parent to a non-magical child, whether his magical child would hate or resent him and his family for not having magical abilities, how you both would raise a non-magical child…

It was all a lot to take in, however with your support (coming from muggles yourself) and with the slow but steady exposure to muggle culture and debunking the stereotypes about it, his worries were slowly confronted and cured.

Alioth Sirius Black. He gave his son his brother’s name as his middle name because secretly he has always looked up to Sirius as his big brother. His baby boy has his grey eyes and your hair and skin tone. His nickname is Ali or Alio. 

His personality is more introverted but he greatly enjoys sports. Growing up he wanted so badly to be a quidditch player like his dad and it broke both your heart and Regulus’s when he learned that he couldn’t become one. But despite this, Regulus was determined to help his baby boy find his niche sport. He let him try out everything. Basketball, football (soccer and the American version), golf, tennis, karate, gymnastics, wrestling, you name it he let his kid try it. And it turns out, he’s a water baby. Is an amazing and very fast swimmer and loves the water. Also enjoys fishing and boating (Regulus bought him his own boat because of this). 

Regulus is a VERY involved parent. He shows up to all the muggle swim meets (early because being on time is being late in his mind). He also made sure that he enrolled his child into the best private school money could buy. He is the epitome of the PTA dad and often gets into petty squabbles with the PTA moms, which he rants to you about. And even though he was happy to spoil his child with monetary things (that’s how he was shown “love” growing up) you are quick to remind him that love doesn’t come from what you can buy but being there and spending time with your children. So he takes this to heart and makes sure to spend equal time with both of your kids and you. And lots of family vacations. Both to magical places and muggle ones too. 

All in all Alioth grows up super loved.

[joka13]

FANFICTION (REQUEST): George Weasley x Squib Reader (Female) - Empathy - Part 3

WARNINGS: none

The wait was only a few days, but Thursday couldn't come soon enough. And by the time it did come, you were more than ready to go with George to Diagon Alley.

You sat in the dining room at 9:30 a.m. with your shoes on and purse hung over your shoulder, staring at the clock on the wall. George had said he'd pick you up at 10:00, but you wanted to be prepared in case he arrived early.

You anxiously fiddled with your hands. You were certainly excited for what the day ahead might hold, but, of course, you couldn't help but worry something would go wrong. You wished you could talk to Mum to distract yourself, but she was at work.

You then realized that George wouldn't pick you up in a car. He was a wizard, after all, and would travel by other means. This made you even more anxious as you anticipated how you might get to Diagon Alley. Would you apparate? You remembered that was your father's preferred method. Could you use floo powder? You once saw your father use it in the fireplace. Should you get a fire started just in case? George would need to bring his own powder...

Three knocks on the front door startled you. You quickly got to your feet, but stopped yourself from rushing and took in a deep breath to calm your rapidly beating heart. You tried your best to walk casually to the door and put on a smile as you opened it.

"Good morning, y/n! You ready?" George greeted you enthusiastically. You were pleased to see him wearing fairly casual clothes: a pair of blue jeans, a light sweater, and walking shoes. You had wondered earlier as you got dressed for the day if he would wear something more... wizardy because you'd be going to a wizarding place. You had worried that you'd stick out in your muggle clothes, but seeing George's outfit made you much less concerned about that.

"Good morning, George!" you replied, grinning wider. "I am!" You then noticed a little, blue car that was unfamiliar to you parked by the curb. "Is that... your car?" you asked, puzzled.

"Indeed it is!" George laughed. "Though, I don't know how to drive it... legally. According to muggle laws at least. It flies, but I thought we... you could drive it the normal way if that'd make you more comfortable."

George's thoughtfulness touched you, and much of your uneasiness slipped away. "Thank you... I really appreciate that actually. Wait one moment while I get my driver's license." You went back inside to grab your license. When you came back out, you locked the door behind you and eagerly exclaimed, "Here we go!"

George smiled. "Off we go!" He led you to the car, opening the driver side door for you, then walked around to sit in the passenger seat.

Out of habit, you first fastened your seatbelt. George copied you with his own, though you wondered if he knew being without a seatbelt in a moving car was illegal.

From that point forward, George directed you as well as he could (knowing as little about road laws as he did) for about twenty minutes before you arrived at an inn and pub called the Leaky Cauldron. You parked down the street.

"Well done," George complimented as you both got out of the car. "I don't know much about it, but driving seems complicated without magic."

You laughed. "Thank you!"

You followed George to the front of the inn. He stopped before entering, looking about the area.

"Something the matter?" you asked.

"We've got to be clear of muggles," George said. There weren't any that you or him could see, so George went inside with you nervously on his heels. "To them, this building appears to be nothing but a solid wall. If you weren't used to such things, you can imagine our entrance might look rather... odd."

You giggled at the thought. "That's an understatement."

As you took in your surroundings (which weren't much to behold; the pub was dimly lit and musty), you silently appreciated being able to see the inn from the outside. It was something that separated you from muggles and (sort of) included you with the rest of wizardkind. You became distracted by a couple of bottles floating slowly back to their shelves as the bartender finished preparing a drink, and you accidentally bumped into George's back.

"Sorry," you apologize.

"No worries. I thought you'd like to see this," George said, stepping to the side so you could better view the brick wall in front of him.

"Er..." You weren't sure what he was talking about, and you began to wonder if he meant the rubbish bin at your feet, until he lifted his wand and tapped its tip against the wall.

You jumped back in surprise when the bricks began to move on their own, clicking against each other as they went apart to create a doorway that revealed an entire street with buildings and people.

George laughed at your reaction. "Welcome to Diagon Alley, y/n!"

"Wow..." you breathed in amazement as you stepped out of the pub and onto the street.

Witches and wizards bustled around you, and you quickly turned around to hold George's arm as you worried you'd be split up. He seemed to enjoy this, but didn't say as much.

"What would you like to do?" he asked, gazing contentedly out over the crowd.

You noticed the brick wall closing back up behind you and felt there was no turning back. "I don't really know where to start..." You took in another deep breath to calm yourself. "Oh!" you gasped excitedly, remembering that George owned a joke shop here. "I want to see your shop!"

George smiled. "Then we'll go see my shop!"

You continued to hold onto him (though you had to remind yourself to loosen your grip sometimes) as George happily strolled through the marketplace. As you walked, you began to recognize some things that your father showed or told you about when he was still around, though most of what you saw you couldn't help but gape at. You saw talking, moving gargoyles. There was a store selling potions and elixirs. An advertising wizard performed a jig with mini fireworks. A strange, furry, ball-shaped creature rolled on the ground instead of walking or flying.

You didn't want to bother George but wanted to ask so many questions at the same time. He realized this this, and he insisted that you ask away.

"That's a puffskein," George said, referring to the rolling animal. "They make very low maintenance pets... though they should be put away at night. They enjoy eating bogeys and find that easiest to do while you sleep."

You snorted. "That's hilarious...! It'd be nice to have a clear nose in the morning if the cleaning process wasn't so disturbing."

You and George laughed together.

He went on to answer any questions that you had. He was in no rush to show you his shop, kindly letting you wander around as your attention was had by one thing to the next. During this time, George's name was called out now and then by regular customers or friends of his.

"It's almost impressive how many people you know," you said as George waved to an old wizard who apparently worked with his father.

He looked back at you with a crooked grin. "'Almost'?" George teasingly repeated.

"W-well, I can see that it comes easily to you," you chuckled, becoming flustered and looking away. You pretended to be captivated by a store with brooms sitting in the window. "It is impressive, really. I myself find it difficult to make friends... or even talk to strangers."

"I can understand that," George said, and it surprised you. "All throughout my schooling years, it was easiest to just talk with Fred. He was my... permanent friend," George laughed. "I never needed to wonder if he... might leave me..." You glanced up at George. His expression was tired for only a moment before he put on another smile. "So, I never had any practice making friends. Well, real friends anyway. Fred and I were the biggest class clowns; we had other students lining up to watch or get in on our jokes... Speaking of which, here we are!"

You goggled at the vibrantly designed structure in front of you. It was themed with bright purples and oranges and was welcoming in a lively kind of way. You read, "Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes" below a large, grinning, mechanical man with red hair (who you assumed was supposed to be Fred, George, or both). The mechanical man popped off his top hat to reveal a white rabbit. The hat was donned once more, but when the hat lifted again, the rabbit was gone.

"M'lady..." George held the door open for you, bowing low as you walked passed.

"Thank you, my good sir," you giggled.

What you had already seen so far in Diagon Alley was plenty magical, but all that seemed like nothing when compared to the contents of George's shop.

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[greenerteacups]

I was just talking with a friend about possible great HP-world tv-shows and we ended up at "Pride and Prejudice in the HP wizarding world" (not the plot of P&P but the vibes; with Slytherin!Mr.Darcy and Gryffindor!Elizabeth (or OR! better yet vice versa)) and I thought you would be such a perfect fit to write it 😍

aw, thanks, that's a fun idea! I feel like Hogwarts AUs for other fandoms used to be more of a thing back in the age of peak Pottermania, and I wonder if they won't end up coming back when the TV show drops.

Darcy is totally a Hufflepuff, though.

[anxiousnerdwritings]

Muggleborn!Dursley!Reader introduces Blaise Zabini to video games during the summer they spent together at 4 Privet Drive when Mrs. Zabini was on yet another honeymoon

I personally don’t think the Zabini’s are blood purist. I feel like they’re a more sophisticated version of Horace Slughorn who collects talented and well connected people.

Yesss!! First, I wanna say I’m really loving the Blaise x Muggleborn!Dursley!Reader dynamic! I honestly really just love the idea of Dursley!Reader with the whole Slytherin crew in general (Mattheo and Enzo included). And just them all being overprotective and possessive of their Muggleborn!darling, platonic or romantic. Especially someone so closely related to Harry cause you know it gets an irate reaction from him.

I love to imagine that Blaise and Dursley!Reader had so much fun with one another during their summer together. The Reader is just so happy and excited to show their classmate/housemate muggle stuff, meanwhile Blaise is honestly just happy and content seeing them so excited and open to share parts of their life outside of school with him.

Like, I could see the Reader having persuaded Petunia and Vernon into taking them all to the zoo, or the movies, or a museum. Heck, even to just drop them off at a muggle park. If Petunia and or Vernon wouldn’t take them then Blaise would just have his Squib driver take them instead. Harry of course is coming along whether he’s welcome to or not, meanwhile Dudley is too freaked out to/being kept back by Vernon, not to mention both Blaise and Harry make it pretty clear that he isn’t invited either way.

Dursley!Reader would have totally taught Blaise to play video games. They even go as far as gifting him one of Dudley’s old gaming systems or gameboys that fortunately still works. At first they lended it to him during his stay so they could play together but when the day comes for him to leave back home, the Reader tells him to keep it if he wants. And when I say that Blaise would treasure it, I fucking mean it. That boy would play it all the time back home and his mom probably wouldn’t even bat an eye at it or she just tells him to make sure none of the other purebloods see him with it, not like they’ll know what exactly it is. Even at school, Blaise would find a way to sneak playing on it. Hell, he’d honestly end up playing it out in the open not caring too much about what anyone says or thinks.

I can’t help but imagine Blaise’s reaction to either having used the gameboy so much that it stops working or because it’s an older one it just stops working one day. I could see him kind of freaking out and inwardly panicking at first, like oh shit he broke the first and so far only gift that his darling’s ever given him. He would spend so much time trying to figure how to fix it by hand before he realizes he could just use magic to do something about it. I could even see him reaching out to some of the professors to fix it if he was really desperate enough. Like, I imagine him just laying it in front of Snape one day after class and neither of them saying anything, only having a conversation with looks before Snape sighs and takes it, later returning it completely fixed to Blaise in the common room or the next time he’s in potions class.

[rxsilabeth--er]

ok this feels mean to do but, remus and a slytherin male reader. post-prank. essentially, post-prank remus is angry with sirius, but suddenly he find himself close with his 'sleazy' seatmate in charms. turns out, he's not that mean and less of a jerk from how he holds himself and how most people percieved Slytherin men. he's also very good at his studies, he helps remus out when remus seems to need it, he has this nice voice, and an even nicer face—wait what?

(i'd love to walk in the great hall with my arm around remus lupin's shoulder, maroon and burgundy marks on my neck and a sleazy grin on my face as i leaned down to his ear, just to whisper to him that his ex's staring. let 👏🏻 me 👏🏻 make 👏🏻 that 👏🏻 man 👏🏻 blush 👏🏻)

:: hickeys and a Slytherin that's tricky...

Now calling....Author: "This was a lovely request!! Though I LOVE wolfstar, this did hurt my wolfstar heart, but I love it nonetheless!!"

Now calling....Synopsis: "...After the prank, Remus prefers sitting alone in case one of the marauders come and he bursts open at the seams, but luckily during potions, a certain Slytherin helps his wrong potion and even fixes his seams perfectly..."

Now calling....warnings: "smoking, drinking, fashion show, personal headcanons, tying Remus to his bed for his health (dw), reader is mentioned to piercings, hickeys, mentions of sexual activity, The prank, angst on Sirius's part, possibly wrong potion making, I couldn't fortunately get my hogwarts letter...I deserve to be there more than Draco Malfoy, that's for sure...male!reader. Ooc? Bellatrix and Narcissa? Bellatrix doesn't like Remus in the beginning, but settles to tolerate him cause his ma was a squib and his dad a wizard so he's a pureblood, right? Bella had sexual history with reader. Beware, this is quite long."

the clinking of his spoon on the walls of the bubbling cauldron did not help Remus's situation, he could still hear James, Sirius and Peter's murmurs along with Severus's glare at him. What potion were they making again? Does not matter especially if you just got your heart torn apart by those you trusted the most in your life...

He softly looked around, Severus's glare still trained on him as he lowered his eyes with guilt, continuing to cut whatever he had as the instruction in his books said, his eyes already blurring the view with tears,

"You're not supposed to put three lacewings...the book says wrong." a gruff voice softly perked up as Remus flinched and looked around to find a particular Slytherin whom he had seen around, mostly smoking, snoozing or being lazy and chaotic.

With messy hair, messy shirt, Slytherin tie, a few piercings around your ears and tattoos poking out from under your sleeves, you stood there pointing at his book.

Seeing him basically zoned out string at you, you snapped your fingers in his face to pull him out of trance, as he shook his head and looked at you, his eyebrow raising,

"And what makes you think you're right?" Remus asked as he glared his eyes up and down you, as you simply shrugged and said,

"I mean, if you add three lacewings which makes the potion acidic to daisy roots who's job is to acidify the potion already, it will become..I don't know? Too acidic for anything to survive in it? We need it just enough acidic so that when we add the base, it will be enough to neutralize...I thought you were smart, Lupin."

and your words left him appalled, but he couldn't speak as he did understand your logic behind it as he scoffed and asked, "And how many am I supposed to add, genius?! Professor didn't say anything." as you looked at your own book at the corrections you made, "...One and a half".

As you said, as if on cue, Snape's cauldron bubbled too much and spilled everywhere leaving blisters on contact with bare human skin of those around as people winced and softly whispered, a Remus looked in surprise, you didn't seem shocked as Snape did think he knew better and added three and a HALF lacewings, idiot.

You simply continued to mix your potion, Remus decided to take your advice and only add one and a half instead of three like everyone did...You finished yours and tested it in front of everyone as Slughorn awarded your with fifty points for Slytherin, he must ave been impressed because this particular potion was a hard one, Remus's also turned out to be good but he was awarded only fifteen points, possibly because he showed it at the last minute.

As you got your things and walked out, the classes were over so you had free time as you walked down the courtyard down the grassy fields near the tree where the Slytherin skittles often sat. Throwing your bag up, you quickly climbed up there, pulling out a cigarette and a lighter before lighting it and smoking out smoke from your nostrils as you hummed to yourself, opening a book to read.

Remus didn't know how, but he somehow walked up and climbed up to meet you, you simply looked his way, nodding as a greeting as you went back to reading while Remus was panting from the tiny climb,

"Uhm....hey, thanks for the tip today in class..." Remus began as you nodded, taking another drag and softly blowing it out, as Remus stood there, clinging to the tree in disbelief,

"..Okay...Uhm..." he nodded to himself as he took a step down, "...What happened to you and marauders?" you asked softly, crawling to lay on your stomach on the slightly somewhat large space the tree had to offer, looking down at him with your face in your propped up hand, noticing the way he froze,

"...None of your fucking business." Remus said in annoyance, as you nodded, "Okay." you said taking another drag and blowing the smoke in his face, making him more annoyed, as he swatted your hand, "Fucking stop." Remus snarled, as you grinned..

Out of nowhere, with unknown confidence, Remus took your wrist and made you place your cigarette between his lips as he blew the smoke in your face before climbing down and walking away as you stared back at him in surprised with flushing reaching up your cheeks to warm them, a soft smile spreading your cheeks as you looked at him walking away.

You quickly gathered the book, the bag and jumped down, following him from a few feets away, walking behind him yet no doing anything, of-course he noticed, you weren't hidden or invisible and yet he didn't do anything. Up until the portrait of the fat lady you followed him and would have followed him inside if he didn't just stop in front of the portrait till you stood beside him,

"What is it? Why are you following me, you fuck?" Remus asked as you simply blew out more smoke, "You looked like shit, so I followed. I need to make you a forest brown again." you said simply as his eyes soften ever-so slightly...sighing, he gave the password and pulled you in, sitting you down and removing your tie,

"Oooh, already so eager to fuck, Lupin?" you asked smirking, making him scoff, "As if me, or anybody in fact, would sleep with a sleaze like you. Only doing it so people don't know I'm hanging with a serpent.", "Okay.. :)"

And the next month flew without a care of world for Lupin and you, as you simply pulled out a cig after classes ended and were pulled by Zahara and if she pulled you, you pulled him, cause if Zahara was around, you needed the 'Casanova' around so people don't think that Zabini be sleeping with you...

Or maybe you'd help Pandora to collect rocks or snails or slugs around the Black lake, while she rambled on and on to you while Remus stood there smoking.

Or maybe you'd be sharing a cigarette with Barty and Evan cause you three were being stingy and lazy to buy some from Hogsmeade as you three glared at Remus in envy while he wasted cigarettes from his brand new packet while he only took two drags before putting it out and pulling out another one all while smirking in your direction cause he knew you three were too prideful to ask him for one.

Or maybe you'd be reading while cuddling with Regulus and helping him annotate while Remus sat beside you hearing both of your interpretation, he didn't think you'd be into literature almost as much as Regulus while you both acted out Shakespeare sometimes.

Or maybe styling clothes with Andromeda, Narcissa and Dorcas and putting on a show for the house in the common room while people hooted or laughed at the dramatic display all while Remus sat there in confusion at how weird the whole house of Slytherin is if you don't notice the idiotic pure-blood supremacists (Lucius, Lestranges, Bellatrix, Snape, Mulciber, etc.).

The month went by quickly, you stood outside the door of the Shrieking Shack, smoking as he transformed for the month...The month had sadly two full moons and it did not go well...

if not for you standing outside until the morning and tying him to his bed, while putting on healing spells and refusing to let him go to class and leaving him there in the Shrieking Shack until the classes ended and you came back with the gang and sat beside him on the floor, playing truth or dare, having a fashion show, smoking, singing songs and playing stupid instruments and more...

For Remus, well it was small, not for the Marauders especially Sirius...No, on the contrary it was hell for them, Sirius could not help but feel guilt as he refused to let himself or James or Peter believe that he purposefully sent someone to be murder and maimed...

He could not let James or Peter turn their back on him, cause he knew that in the two's eyes he was still a good person..and a good person doesn't send someone else to be mauled....

Sirius had begun to cry himself to sleep, putting silencing charms around his bed post and sticking his curtains around him with a few spells as he heard Remus walk in every night, giggling at something another voice spoke, before he heard the sounds of him falling into his bed and the sounds of Remus...possibly kissing the person..No he could not have that in his mind..

Remus had changed a lot, everyone in Gryffindor could tell. He still wore his grandpa sweaters, but he had eyeliner around his eyes, his eyes seemed more hooded and bored, with no concealer covering his scars anymore.

And despite his sweaters, he was more often seen with Blazer, sometimes blood dripping down his nose or knuckles and mostly walking around Barty, Evan, Regulus and you, all five laughing while Pandora clung to your arm and Dorcas fussed over Remus's hair and scars and body, asking him if anything hurt...

Mary, Lily, Marlene, Alice often saw themselves being replaced by Dorcas, Pandora, Zahara and sometimes Andromeda and Narcissa and well rarely, Bellatrix who asked him to tutor her after swallowing a lot of her pride...Sirius, James, Frank, Peter saw themselves being replaced by you, Barty, Evan and Regulus...

Remus wasn't ever seen in the Gryffindor tower now, always roaming around the Slytherin common room, sometimes seen beside the Black lake with Pandora and Dorcas talking with merfolk with sign language, or waltzing with Narcissa in the courtyard who always smiled and laughed as he mixed up his steps...

And seen in the library with Zahara and Bellatrix who wore a scowl which sometimes melted away after a while as the two listen intently to whatever he taught them...

Or walking around Hogsmeade with you, Barty and Evan, Barty and Evan whining and clinging to each other before going away somewhere to make out as you simply bought him his favourite chocolates at Honey dukes and sometimes putting the tiniest bit of melted chocolate on the tip of his nose before kissing it away...

Or talking with Regulus and you about the newest books they read, or three-wheeling Andromeda and Ted, teasing the two with a smirk as you leaned against him, smoking with a smirk, sometimes enjoying him with the teasing. Sirius or other marauders couldn't bear himself seeing it and often teared up at the slightest mention of Remus and his new-found friends..

Despite being everything Sirius hated the most; a pureblood, coming from a noble family, serious, smart, cunning, ambitious Slytherin, you were everything that deserved you got and showed not everything is not as simple as it seems.

you did not worry what people thought when you helped people. Helping Andromeda through hexing a few of Ted's bullies from Slytherin who tried to hurt him for being with Andromeda,

comforting Alice after a fight she had with Narcissa,

sharing some weed with Peter,

helping Lily chase away Snape who was being too persistent,

helping Marlene get the snitch just to spite Dorcas yet make Dorcas laugh the other second cause you didn't want her to feel bad about loosing the match,

taking the blame for whatever Barty, Andromeda, Bellatrix, Regulus, Narcissa did cause you didn't want a letter be sent to their house and make them get punished by their parents,

learning to braid Zahara's hair the way she likes it to help her,

taking Pandora anywhere she wanted,

helping Evan with his homework in library...

You couldn't be thrown into one category cause you weren't like that, you were the hardest thing to navigate, you were always being sleezy, smoking, yet you helped, cared, comforted people who needed it...

The next morning as he stood up and walked down to the Great Hall, Remus left WAY earlier possibly to be with his new found friends... He walked in, and sat down as he simply ate whatever was present before Marlene smacked his hand pointed back at the entrance to see Remus.

In his usual black blazer, hooded, bored eyes, a few piercings, a cig in his hand with his shirt's top two buttons open and showing his collar and neck covered in bite-marks, hickeys...

some were even decorated with stickers as he walked and sat right behind Sirius, yawning as Zahara whistled, as Bellatrix scoffed,

"What, couldn't even handle being with Y/N?" Bellatrix asked grinning with confidence,

"Well, still better at handling him than you, no Bella? He isn't able to walk, last time I remembered, it wasn't him who couldn't walk, it was you who couldn't walk!" Remus said back with a evident smugness in his voice as Bellatrix sat there, appalled and shocked as she simply humphed and looked away as the table softly snickered...

Sirius couldn't bear to think that something he wished he could have was now with someone completely different. Sirius longed to be in your place as he couldn't help the tears which pricked his eyes...How come a large mistake of his took away everything he wished was his...?

He looked back at the entrance to see you softly walk in, slightly limping with a cig in your hand which you dropped on the floor and stamped on to put it out as you walked and sat down beside Remus, leaning against him, trying to catch on sleep which you obviously couldn't complete from last night's activities...

Sirius felt filth inside him at seeing you and Remus be together, through classes as you helped him read and developed spells for him to read through his Dyslexia, helped him sleep with a potion Regulus created to heal his own insomnia which you even gave to James to help his insomnia.

You helped Peter sometimes with his charms when he needed help, told Lily which colour looked good on her, helped motivate Marlene to cause pranks, told Mary she looked pretty, gave advice to Alice about Narcissa and even gave Rita some gossips you heard to satisfy her.

You even helped Sirius himself with pranks to pull on Snape whom you started calling "Snevillous" as well...no matter how much Sirius tried, he couldn't hate you..or even be you...

He saw you everyday with Remus, making out with him in some corner of the library, sitting on his lap to tease him, quoting books he hated simply to annoy him, stroking his scars with your fingers, putting on liner on his eyes, using spells to make drawings that Evan did to turn them into permanent tattoos, wearing his grandpa sweaters and flaunting them in front of the girls all whom laughed or giggled...

You even tried your hardest to fix the marauder's friendship, in which you succeeded..but not because their apologies were sincere, it was because you tried to fix their friendship.

© This writing work belongs to me, rxsilabeth--er, Aurelia, Rosilabeth, Cerine. Reblogging is appreciated, but plagiarizing or copying my works is forbidden, thank you for reading this and if you like this check out my blog!

[sgiandubh]

Damp squib

Now, I understand BIF has a personal problem with shippers in general and with this page in particular and systematically tries to rebuke whatever I post. Seriously, I really do: I must have hit a nerve they forgot existed and well, it is what it is. A la guerre, comme à la guerre.

To prove shippers were wrong and she (along with others of her ilk) were RIGHT, they posted this pic, probably showing T at the BAFTA 2018 venue, in painful conversation with S:

The supreme irony that your rebuke only shows C totally ignoring McInsipid, while happily networking, was not lost on me, this time.

How very rude of her, to not even introduce The Love of Her Life to the people she's engaging with at an important event. I'd be seriously pissed off, should that happen to me.

There was no need to introduce S. He was an insider and they were there as co-presenters. But not introducing your fiancé and leaving him hang out there with Cree, your 'co-star's +1? Riddle me this, BIF.

This is the second time in a row you (inadvertently, of course) throw the Goddess under the bus.

In the meanwhile, this is how things more plausibly played out that night (with special thanks to @bat-cat-reader, who posted these yesterday):

But sure, we know the talking points: fan service, etc and what-the hell-ever, really. I trust you'd pick better crayons, next time: you probably planned Nagasaki, you end up with a damp squib.

[prettybabybaby]

¡ 18+ only ! ¡ minors do not interact !

content: noncon, dark!regulus, fem!squib!reader, use of the imperius curse, degradation, objectification

¡ marauders masterlist !

Regulus didn’t really think he’d have to use it.

You were an obedient thing, eager to serve. And under the impression that he and the others were part of the order, you did just about anything he asked.

You were easy to fool, unaware of any wizarding politics after you were casted away following the reveal of your powers. Or lack there of. Your squib status was all over the daily prophet. He remembered scowling at the moving photo of you behind your parents, looking pathetically weak.

Regulus didn’t understand why he was so infatuated with a filthy squib like you. Much less why you hadn’t seemed to catch on. You just seemed so attentive and observant. The wheels in your mind always seemed to be turning as you tried to piece everything together from the little Regulus and the other death eaters spoke.

But you still couldn’t grasp the meaning of Regulus’ wandering hand and suggestive tone, ignoring his advances completely as your mind was occupied with trying to conspicuously draw information from him. You hadn’t managed to deceive him.

The eagerness to help was to make up for your feelings of inadequacy, he knew that, but the glimmering eyes and growing pupils that would look up at him as you nodded your head, thanking him for allowing you to help made his mind spin with thoughts. His fantasies plagued his mind more often than he cared to admit, embarrassed by the subject of his desire and the fact that he was somehow still yearning when he could just have you.

Regulus expected immediate reciprocation of his fervent touch but instead, he was pushed away mere seconds after his lips touched yours, tongue invading your mouth to taste you instantly. His brow raised as he kept a grip on your shoulder, taking in your widened eyes and your wet lips.

The taste of your lips lingered on his tongue as he stared at you, ears filled with cotton as words flew from your mouth. He cared very little about what you had to say but he loved to watch your mouth tumble open as you fumbled your words before stopping to lick your lips, collecting the remnants of his spit.

He leaned in again, a breathy, "relax," fanning your neck as he pecked the delicate skin he had been waiting to mark. You squirmed, wiggling out of his grasp and staring at him in disbelief with an underlying tinge of fear.

Regulus' patience was already running thin. He was just trying to get off before returning his focus to serving the Dark Lord. You were a useless squib who should've been begging for his touch, realizing that was the only way you were useful.

His wand pressed against your throat and the imperius curse was on his tongue as he pinned you to the wall. Your eyes glazed over, hands dropping to your sides and pleads coming to a halt. You were awaiting his command.

"Are you done?" He asked, condescension dripping from his tone.

You nodded dumbly, "yes."

"Are you gonna let me use you now, squib?" You blinked as he leaned in closer, "you gonna spread those legs for me?"

Another nod, "yes."

"You're a dumb little thing, aren't you?" he murmured, cupping your pretty face. "Kiss me."

Your eyes flickered to lips for a second before you tilted your face upwards, mouth puckered cutely as you pressed your lips to his. It was a light peck, over much too quickly. Regulus licked his lips as you leaned away from him.

"You can do better than that," he said, "kiss me like you mean it."

You leaned back in, giving him a desperate open-mouthed kiss. Your tongue met his, caressing the muscle with your own before you pulled away, suckling on it. Regulus groaned, of course you'd be a good little slut. What else could a weak girl like you possibly be good at?

You looked at him expectantly, lashes fluttering as you as you leaned back in. He could feel your thighs press together, hips moving as he began to slowly grind against you.

His hands slid down your body, bunching around the hem of your skirt and pushing it downwards, "get rid of it."

You obeyed, pressing your thighs together as your cunt was revealed. He took a deep breath, grabbing your face once again to connect your lips and somehow his movements were even more desperate than before as his hand reached your heat. You were so much warmer and softer than he imagined. You tightened around his fingers instantly as he moved you towards your bed.

The head of his cock, poked at your pussy as his tongue roamed your useless mouth. You stayed still, almost in a paralyzed state as his hands roamed your skin and his cock humped the lips of your core.

Your body jolted and you gasped, a tremble moving up your body as a high whine left your lips. Regulus pulled away instantly, catching the final seconds of your orgasm. Your lips were still parted, visibly swollen and your eyes were glazed, struggling to stay open as all the air escaped your lungs.

He felt disgusted by himself for feeling the need to see you do it again. He wanted to watch the way your body changed as you felt the climax building until it reached it's peak. He wanted to feel your body tense and your hole clench around his cock as he fucked into you.

Regulus found your opening easily, slipping in even easier with the help of your dripping slick. Your thighs shook and tried to close instinctively. "Stop," he muttered, "keep them nice and wide."

He relished in the way your pussy pulsed around him and tears began to fill your waterline, no doubt from the sensitivity of your orgasm lingering and the intrusion of his cock becoming deeper with every thrust of his hips.

You felt amazing, an obedient little slut forced to obey his every wish. Regulus thought all squibs should be met with this fate. But no other hole would feel as delicious as you and your warmth.

You came again, fingers digging into the sheets as your back arched and you convulsed. You were even prettier the second time, empty eyes dripping crystals. He felt himself getting closer to his own orgasm as his hips pounded into you sloppily.

"Finally useful," he panted as he spilled into you. He could feel his release shooting deep inside you in ropes. "Aren't you so grateful for me?" Regulus' stomach tightened and he let out a deep moan, feeling himself come down from his climax.

[lavender-romancer]

The Astronomy Tower

Part One Draco Malfoy x Potter Reader

Even though you were Harry's twin you led very separate lives, different friends, and different focuses but one thing you had in common was that Draco Malfoy couldn't stand you. Or at least he acted like that…

*°*°•.˜”*°•.˜”*°•.˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”°*

When Harry got his Hogwarts letter you were surprised to see you didn't also receive one. He said it must have been a mistake andager wrote to you saying that you couldn't be a squib, it just didn't seem like you. You and Harry had always been together, you couldn't remember a time where you weren't but when Harry entered his second year you received a letter from Albus Dumbeldore himself through Harry. He detailed how it hadn't been the right time for you to join the wizarding world but that it soon would be.

You joined the school the following year as a third year and you were already behind. In addition to that stress, you were often seen as the same novelty Harry was when he first arrived. “A Potter twin?”, “Where has she been all this time?”. You learnt to ignore it and decided to meld into the student body as well as you could. You didn't struggle, like Harry when he first began learning magic you showed a great and immediate proficiency. Some said even better than Harry himself.

You kept to yourself for the first few months with late nights in the library being a regular occurrence, learning every charm you could to speed up the process whether that was to carry books or write notes. It didn't take as long as you expected, given that the first three years at Hogwarts were not as advanced. You had a particular penchant for defense against the dark arts and adored astronomy- often finding yourself staring up at stars more than anything else.

After your ability began to show you expanded into the quidditch team and this was your first experience with Draco. After you and Harry had fought for an appropriate amount of time about who would be the Gryffindor seeker during the first game of the season against Slytherin, Oliver Wood had to step in and tell you to “pull yourselves together and flip a knut”.

After three rounds you eventually won and gave a smug smile in Harry's direction. The game was going well for both teams but, always ambitious, you wanted that snitch. You'd never met Draco before now, only heard stories or seen him around sometimes, but that game you were chasing one another in and out of the structures of the Quidditch ground. It was exhilarating as you followed the white hair of the boy in front of you, at one point the both of you ended up above the ground looking down for the snitch. There was a moment when you looked at eachother and it was oddly quiet, looking just past Draco you saw a glint of gold and moved towards him as he looked dumbfounded as you got closer. But you reached out and caught the snitch just past his ear, raising your eyebrow at him and smiling.

From that moment on you were convinced Draco wanted you dead. It wasn't without reason, you enjoyed showing him up after all the bullying of your brother. But he didn't start retaliating until you got into fifth year.

When Draco became a member of the God awful Inquisitorial Squad, he would not leave you alone. When you were slightly late for a class, ate in the library or anything else he would dock you house points. When one day you were using a charm to carry more books and accidentally bumped into him, he took 20 house points! You'd finally had enough of him and decided that in your next class you would partner up with him and ruin his life.

Your next opportunity was a potions class you got to incredibly early. You stood at the desk Draco always worked at, a little etching on the top of the table reading DM 1994 made you smirk to yourself. When Draco finally got to the class he looked incredibly confused why you were sitting where his partner Blaise usually did but let it slide-assuming you wouldn't dare break any rules.

“What are you doing here, Potter?” He asked with a venom in his voice you didn't have the energy to muster.

“Wanted to be closer to the blackboard.” You smiled sweetly at him, hoping he would let his guard down. He looked at you curiously but sat down next to you all the same.

Snape wanted you to create a Wiggenweld Potion which for a class of fifth years was not complicated and more muscle memory. Making it the perfect time to sabotage Malfoy, messing up a simple potion would surely ruin his day and perhaps be explosive…

As you all got started you pretended to look over your textbook whilst pulling your wand out of your sleeve and whispering the confundus charm. You coughed after doing it to try and disguise it as much as you could but as the charm took effect Draco looked too focussed on his “great new idea to make this potion”. If you had done the charm correctly Draco's cauldron would soon be bubbling over and then become slightly explosive, if he just added a bit more flobberworm mucus and turned up the heat.

“Malfoy, it's bubbling over!” Goyle exclaimed almost on cue.

“Shut it! I know what I'm doing!” The ever obstinate Draco insisted. He added 4 more drops of the mucus and then you were both thrust backwards with the strength of the explosion that occurred. An acute explosion of force just as you had planned. You didn't realise the force would send you both back into a wall or that it would hurt so much, but regardless you got what you wanted.

“Malfoy!” Snape bellowed at the top of his voice his cloak billowing in his wake as he approached the two of you.

“Y/n!” Harry called as he ran over to you, crouching at your side he pulled you to your feet and sat you down at his potion station. “What happened?” He asked.

“Oh, nothing….” You tried to hide your smug look but couldn't help it and Harry rolled his eyes.

“It's because of the house points isn't it?” He looked at you with a smirk and you nodded. “Sir, may I take my sister to the infirmary, she feels dizzy?”

“Yes, yes. I need to deal with this ridiculousness here anyways.” Snape looked down at Draco who was sitting against the wall with a spattering of orange over his face.

“You're diabolical.” Harry told you as you left the classroom, he couldn't help but laugh.

“Well, he shouldn't have crossed someone as clever as me, Hermione would have done the same.” You shrugged.

“Will he know it was you?” Harry sat down on a bench at the bottom of the nearest staircase.

“Even if he does he can't prove it, I was in the blast too so how silly would it look if he complained about me. It was his poor potion making skills.” running a hand over your face you looked down at your orange palm, “Oh shit, is my face-”

“Orange. Yes,” Harry burst out laughing and you punched his arm. “I was wondering how long it would take to notice.”

Later that evening you put on the invisibility cloak that you and Harry shared and headed to the astronomy tower. It was a regular occurrence for you but especially when you couldn't sleep, you had never got into any trouble or even really seen anyone but with Umbridge about the worthwhile to take the cloak.

You stared up at the stars, dreaming of Hippogriffs and Thestrals as you gazed. It felt like the only peaceful part of the whole school, even more so than your door room- that you shared with someone who sometimes sounded like a troll as she slept. Breathing in and out deeply you relaxed your brain and let it go blank for a moment

“Well, doesn't my luck just overflow. Another Potter copying me.” You jumped out of your skin but clamped a hand over your mouth so you didn't scream.

“Malfoy! What the fuck?” You hissed and he raised an eyebrow.

“She speaks! My potion saboteur has a voice?” He took a few steps closer to you until you were meters away from one another.

“Potion saboteur? I was caught in that blast too! Or had you forgotten I was injured due to your idiocy?” You lied, surprisingly convincingly.

“You're really going to stick with that?” Draco asked as he took another step closer.

“What else would I say?” You learnt backwards onto the railings.

“Well I know you charmed me, I wouldn't fuck up such a basic potion like that.” Draco walked up to the railings and looked out on the Black Lake.

“Why are you here, Malfoy?” You felt it was acutely important to change the subject.

“I come here every now and then. Used to be my private little haunt but I see you've infiltrated that.” His voice didn't sound angry, just that he was observing your behavior.

“Do you think you own every part of the school!” You said loudly, finally exasperated.

“I could own all of it if I fancied it!” Draco returned even louder.

Then a door opened and the two of you went wide eyed. Thinking as quick as you could you pulled Draco closer to you and wrapped you in the invisibility cloak. In your haste you had tripped backwards and pulled Draco with you, he was basically sitting on you. Professor Sinastra came upstairs from her office and looked around for a bit but soon went back down. You pushed Draco off you and he let out a very displeased noise.

“Did you really have to sit on me?” You hissed, taking off the cloak and holding it bunched up in one hand.

“So the Potters have an invisibility cloak?” Draco raised his eyebrow again and it enraged you.

“I will end you Malfoy,” you stood and stepped closer to Malfoy until you were almost chest to chest. The anger in your blood was beginning to be replaced by a feeling in your stomach you didn't get too often.

“I would love to see you try.” He whispered, his lips parting slightly. You noticed how his hair shone in the moonlight and you felt like making a comment that it looked like he was balding but you chose not too.

“I might be quieter than my brother but do not mistake that for a lack of experience.” You turned to leave but Malfoy put his hand on your hip and turned you back to him.

“If you want to meet me back here again, I wouldn't oppose it.” It was a tone of voice you had never heard him use before, like for the first time he was afraid of rejection.

“Why would you want to meet me here?” You asked, not resisting his hand.

“I think you're bright enough to figure it out.” he said softly before squeezing your waist and walking off.

next part

[dracoxmalereader]

Watering Can

Draco x Male Reader

Context: A four-quel to my other ficlets All at Once, Windowsill, and Summer Sun. Reader is a ravenclaw in the year above Draco, and this fic takes place in Draco's fifth year (your sixth year) during Order of the Phoenix.

Also it's burdensome to keep linking every one of the previous parts, plus I imagine it's an eyesore, so if you want to read all the parts going forward they can be found on Wattpad and Ao3 under the name "Intense". <3

Summary: Draco can't help but go into Inquisitorial Squad Leader Mode™ when Filch mentions hearing rats in the greenhouses only for them to mysteriously vanish when he goes in to look. Lo and behold, who else would it be but the Ravenclaw he's more infatuated with by the day.

Word Count: 1560

The plaques on the wall shone in the dull light of the night sky. Bouncing off the glass, shining over the reflection of the hallway, the moon cast smudges of light gray along the dark walls. Draco's feet were cold against the floor.

He made quick work of his bathroom break, trotting back down the corridor towards the Slytherin dorms, wiping his freshly washed hands on his wool shirt. Footsteps rang from the end of the hallway, and Draco froze.

"Stinking bloody rats-" Filch muttered under his breath, his lantern lighting the walls before he turned the corner.

"What are you on about?" Draco stepped forward, the inquisitor within him already accustomed to jump at the chance to assert discipline upon other students.

"Filthy rats in the bloody greenhouses." Filch stopped in his tracks and rumbled on. "I hear 'em, but I can't find even one of the damn things. Gone before I get there, every time." His voice was bitter and rough like gravel.

Draco nodded, interest peaked.

Filch adjusted his grip on the handle of his lantern, Mrs. Norris yawned where she was tucked into his free arm. "Get to bed," He spoke, tone not lacking malice. "Wouldn't want to send Umbridge her own lapdog." He cleared his throat, starting again down the hallway.

Draco scoffed. Filch was one to talk about being Umbridge's lapdog. He rolled his eyes and pushed past Filch uncaringly, baring a sneer at the squib. He waited for them to disappear around another corner, rerouting himself when the last of Mrs. Norris's bushy tail was out of sight.

The school was quiet as he made his way through it, calm. He ducked past the dark walls until his feet touched the dirt-marred floor of the greenhouse hallway. He cringed at the feeling, but carried on.

Creeping along, he leaned slightly into the doorway of greenhouse one. His eyes scanned the room, the boxes of soil lining the walls empty.

Sloshing water broke his concentration. He turned towards the noise, squinting his eyes at greenhouse three across the hallway. He caught sight of a figure hovering over the plants, and pulled his wand from his pocket.

Gripping it tightly, he approached the doorway of greenhouse three as quietly as he could, waving it in the air before pointing it at the figure and casting, "Expelliarmus!"

Your startled shout rang through the air, watering can flying out of your grip and landing with a thud on the ground, rolling over and leaking water onto the floor.

"What the hell?" Your familiar voice made his stomach drop, and he swore he could feel the shame in his nail beds. You were audibly pissed, angry even. It was almost as terrifying as his father's wrath. "I'm not going to attack you with a watering can! Unnecessary!"

You dug your wand out of your pocket and flicked it in the air, muttering a Lumos and filling the greenhouse with light.

Draco opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't find the words.

You blew a puff of air from your nose. Your brows were furrowed. "Draco." Your voice around his name was laced with a bite he'd never heard from you, and it had him regretting every decision he'd ever made. His throat felt dry. "You gonna take me Um-bitch? Someone has to keep the plants alive."

"You shouldn't be out of bed after hours-" He chased the words out of his mouth, knees feeling weak from the clever nickname given to Umbridge.

Your scowl shut him up.

"Sorry," Draco choked, voice cracking.

His face felt hot, hotter than the air in the train car he'd last been able to speak to you in. He coughed, and it did little to quell the tightness in his airways.

"I, uh... I won't take you to Um-bitch." He let a breathless chuckle escape him.

You looked him up and down, and felt like he was about to crawl out of his skin. One of your brows jerked up in suspicion, and he wanted to run his thumb along it, to feel the muscles under the skin tense and relax.

He stepped into greenhouse three, taking a shaky breath and pushing closer despite the tension. He picked the watering can up off the floor, avoiding the puddle that had formed around it. The space beneath his ribs burned, and he held it out to you, his eyebrows raised in sincerity.

Your eyes met, and he hoped he looked as apologetic as he felt. Your face had matured over summer break and the beginning of the year, and he subconsciously tallied all the ways your face managed to fit you impossibly better. He wanted to touch it and feel for himself how your features had changed.

His lungs quivered when you reached to take the watering can back with your free hand. Your fingers brushed his on the handle, and he felt sparks fly up his arm. His knuckles ached. He wanted to throw the stupid watering can across the room and lace his fingers with yours.

"Thank you." The suspicion and anger bled from your face, and you returned to contently watering a line of plants, shriveled beyond identification.

He watched you quietly, admiring how your dirty fingers pressed and prodded the soil. "Regerminating Potion would help." He offered, pulse speeding up when your eyes met again. He'd missed you over break, and he found it a real shame he didn't see more of you day to day.

"That's a sixth year potion." You pointed out, a smug smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. Draco felt his face heat up.

His eyes widened and he opened and closed his mouth around an excuse he couldn't find to make. He'd rather go full inquisitor on you again than admit he'd been reading ahead and studying even advanced sixth year potions for the chance you'd need more help from him. Your observation went unanswered.

"We're not allowed to make potions anyways." Your smile morphed into something more leisurely, working your way to the last of the plants.

Finished watering, you set the can down on the ground quietly and looked at him. Maybe having special inquisitor privileges wasn't all that bad, Draco thought.

"I could make you some."

"You'd do that?"

Draco swallowed roughly. He'd do anything for you if you asked. "You want me to?"

He stared into your eyes, hoping you were paying close enough attention to see the unspoken vulnerability in them. He wanted to break every rule Dolores Umbridge put in place if it meant he could make you happy. His bones felt restless.

You blinked, and your eyes faltered for a moment. They flicked down over his face, catching on his lips and he felt his stomach lurch forward. His own eyes fell to yours before he tore them away and found you already looking back into his eyes.

It felt like you were strung together, thread tightening with every breath that fanned between the shortening space between your faces.

You took an audibly shaky breath, and Draco hoped it meant you were as flustered as he was. Your mouth poised open, forming words on your tongue that lost their chance to be spoken when the light of Filch's lantern reflected on the glass walls across the hallway.

The light at the tip of your wand went out. Draco whispered for you to duck under the table at the center of the room. Your wand clunked against the floor as you did, and Filch's footsteps picked up in speed until he was limping into the greenhouse almost shouting about the filthy rats he was set on catching.

Draco felt anxiety lick up his spine. "No rats here, there was only one." He spoke, projecting his voice like was giving a speech, guttural lilt not unlike the tone he took up with Potter. "Made quick work of the pest, you can be sure of that."

Filch huffed, peeved but uncomplaining. Must just be thankful those 'rats' are out of the picture, Draco figured. "I'm not gonna tell you again." Filch grumbled. "To bed with you." He twitchily shook his head and tore his disapproving glare from the room, righting back on his path around the school.

Mrs. Norris lingered in the doorway, nose bobbing against the floor, sniffing. Draco crossed his fingers behind his back and his gaze dropped to you. He held his breath even when his heart picked up at the amused look you gave him from under the table. Mrs. Norris licked the back of her paw before trotting away back to Filch.

When he held his hand out to help you up, it's a miracle it wasn't too sweaty to grip onto. He felt adrenaline pulse through his veins, and the energized smile you gave him mirrored his own as it crept onto his face.

"You know, these pajamas are a good look on you." You stayed in his space, pinching the fabric of his sleeve between two fingers. Butterflies raced through his chest at the contact.

The lightheartedness made him want to kiss you, made him want to pull you into a hug and breathe in your smell. You blinked at him and he blinked back, head reeling, picturing all the ways he wanted to break more of his own rules with you.

My mom watched me make the Wattpad cover for this and told me she appreciates that I never stopped being a pre-teen. To express my gratitude this chapter is dedicated to her. Thank you mom for supporting my antics. <3

Drawing by me

Tags: @gayaristocrat @nowayisthistakenyet @dracoshusband

[rottenherbs]

Just A Squib (pt.4) // F.W x squib! reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: You arrived safely to a hospital, no memories, no family, no friends. How could you start over now?

Authors Note: Very reader heavy but i loved writing this ! Maybe two more parts to this series?

// REQUESTS OPEN //

[Masterlist]

Much love, Saige

———

“Ms.Potter?” A soft voice rang through your ears.it was unfamiliar yet comforting.. All you could see was black, a vast open landscape, small flashes of red just out of reach.

You could feel your body, heavy as lead. You register all ten toes, all ten fingers but no energy to move any of them. You tried to look down at your body, only seeing more unending darkness. It frightened you deeply. You attempted to move your hands, to reach out.

‘I can’t’ you thought to yourself.. It felt like purgatory, only a woman’s voice bringing you peace. She grounded you, at least as much as you could be.

It felt like you floated in this liminal space, not in control. All unknowing yet acutely aware of your senses. You wish you could scream. God just do something. You took a deep breath in, attempting to move your body in anyway possible. It felt successful, your index finger raising in your mind. Your voice groaned in pain at the attempt.

“It’s okay. Please stay still Ms.Potter.” The woman called out. You could feel cold hands placed on your arm holding you down lightly. They weren’t forceful but they did the job. Your finger relaxed back in place.

It felt like you got ripped from reality as the black environment around you was replaced by stark white tile. The change blinded you, your ability to shut your eyes willingly took you by surprise, the light still shining through your eyelids. The soft red hue of your skin is the only protection for your sight. Your ears rung, the room spinning around you. All of your senses were being tested.

Where were you? Were you hurt? How did you get here? Can you move your body? What happened?

You opened your eyes after a moment adjusting your focus to the room around you. White linens and machines all matching the walls and floors. It felt sterile and untouchable. Your attention was soon directed to a nurse to your left holding your hand in hers. She smiled down at you.

”It’s alright. I know its a lot but you are alright”. She cleared her throat You stared back at her in confusion.. She was older, dressed in white. Her grey hair tugged tightly behind her head in a bun. She was beautiful. She felt safe. “You’re at St. George’s hospital.” Her smile was unwavering, her eyes empathetic to your fear.

St.George’s Hospital? London?

You didn’t understand anything. Your throat was dry, unable to question further. You felt. lump form in your chest, the painful choking following your welling eyes. The nurse squeezed your hand noticing the shift of emotion on your face. She nodded in acknowledgement, almost like she could read your mind.

“You were dropped off by a stranger. You came to our desk and fainted. We're just doing a routine check on your physical state.” She stood up, lightly letting your hand fall to your side. She walked around to the front of your bed retrieving a clipboard.

“Do you have someone to call? Can we make any arrangements for you to head home?” Her questions were simple, yet you sat silent.

You didn’t. You didn’t have anyone to call. You didn’t have anywhere to go. You wracked your brain of a family, of friends. You could only think of the barbaric pair of aunt and uncle over in Little Whinging. While a lot of your memories were foggy, something deep inside you told you that was not an option.

You looked at the nurse, mouth slightly agape clawing for the voice in your throat. She waited patiently, not interrupting your attempts. It took you a moment, but soon words came out -

“No ma’am.” Your voice is hoarse and somber. You sat there, this nurse being the only human who knows of your existence at this moment. Only this hospital has records of you. They probably had more records of your life than you could recall. You sat there broken-hearted. She nodded and set your chart back down.

“Ill be back with your things. You are free to go when you are cleared, okay?” Her voice was understanding but I knew she couldn't help. You closed your eyes praying you had something in my belongings that could reveal any information.

She came back with a large suitcase of clothes, a purse, paperwork and a baggie of jewlery and pendants they took off your body. She left them at the edge of the bed, leaving the room and giving you the privacy to look over everything.

A scarlet dress, dirty and worn. Several sweaters seemingly hand knit, but otherwise ordinary. A couple pairs of pants and various undergarments. It wasnt until you dug to the bottom where you found a large stash of money and your wallet. Stacks of different colored bills all tucked carefully between clothes. You wouldn't believe your eyes. Thousands of dollars in front of you. All of the clothes were yours you knew that, but this money was new. It was not yours.

Your heart raced gripping the money tightly. You could start over anywhere with this. You had a sudden rush to hide the money back in your suitcase, terrified that someone would see it and take it away from you. You got up from the bed slowly, making sure that your legs worked along with your balance. You got dressed in one of the warm sweaters and a pair of simple sweatpants just before the nurse came back. The clothes smelled of fire wood smoke, cloves, and butterscotch. It smelled of fall. Of a place untouchable.

“You’re on your feet!” The nurse entered, breaking you from the smell of your clothes. Her smile was genuine, happy to see you in a better state than earlier that day. She handed you some paperwork to sign. You took the pen consenting to be discharged from the hospital. She filed the paperwork and she walked you out. You gripped your wallet nervously in your pocket, standing at the curb waiting for the next available taxi.

Let’s start with a hotel room.

And that you did.

—-

Three years passed. Your life in downtown London is becoming second nature and you finally feel like a local. You found a beautiful flat at an exceptional price being able to live alone for the first time in your life. Your roommate was a small ginger stray cat, always howling at your door to be let in or fed. You found comfort in his presence. You loved having something to care for, to live for. As much as you saved him, he saved you.

Your job as a Tesco cashier was within walking distance. Life was simple and you found love in the little things. Everyday you grappled with the loss of memories, but you soon found it therapeutic. You got to fully start over, with yourself, with your surroundings, with everything. Not many people had the privilege.

You shrugged on a cost, swinging a scarf tightly around your neck. Just as you closed your apartment door, you shoved your foot between the crack in the door blocking your foster fail from leaving.

“Stay! Please!” You hushed attempting to keep the cat inside. He fought to escape but you closed it briskly before he could. You sighed and shook your head.

Just another day.

You made your way outside, a brisk wind catching you off guard. Pulling up your hood and zipping your jacket closed, you nestled yourself in for the walk to work. With only your eyes visible, you keep your head down walking within pace of the other people on the street. Looking up only to check your peripherals, you strut across a small parking lot. You cut behind a car, hoping to save time, and end up running into an stranger. You both stumbled, him more than you. He fell to the ground as you caught yourself on the car next to you. Your hands outstretched hoping to help him.

“I’m so sorr-“ you stared down at the man, he already turned to face away from you on the ground. His hands and knees holding himself up, only his fiery red hair and tall frame noticeable to you.

“It was my fault. Have a nice day.” He said over his shoulder. He got up and walked away abruptly leaving you alone in between the cars.

You stood in shock for a moment confused at the altercation all together.

What a weirdo.

You looked around, not able to find him again. It seemed like he was gone for good. Your eyes caught sight of a small note in the spot the man fell. You leaned down hesitating to grab it. You shoved it in your pocket and looked around once more. Suspiciously, you quickly walked out of the parking lot and towards the entrance to your work.

Shaking the interaction out of your mind, you attempted to relax in the back room for a few minutes before your shift started. You reached into your pocket - your fingers searching for the small piece of paper. You held it for a moment inbetween your fingers before revealing it to yourself. Something told you it was meant for you. Even the thought sounded ridiculous to you but you still held it closed infront of you. You took a look at the clock. 7 minutes.

You let out a shallow sigh flicking the paper open. It was a stained piece of old cardstock, an intricate crest with a large H in the center. It was drawn in pencil, the image of a shield with 4 corners, each with a crude drawing of an animal.

It felt like Deja vu. Like you’ve seen this before; but nothing in your mind could decipher it. You felt like you could throw up, overwhelmed with your thoughts.

Who was that?

[joka13]

FANFICTION (REQUEST): George Weasley x Squib Reader (Female) - Empathy - Part 2

WARNINGS: mentions of death

You had an unexpectedly wonderful time.

You opened your birthday gifts, receiving a book from your mother, a scarf (knitted by Mrs. Weasley) from the Weasley family, and a simple though lovely pair of silver earrings mailed from your grandmother.

It seemed childish at first, but you enjoyed having "Happy Birthday" sung to you as your mother carried your cake to the table. You closed your eyes, making a wish as you blew out the candles and everyone cheered.

After being dished a slice, you brought your dessert and new book to the living room couch. You took your sweet time opening to the first page, smiling at the popping sound of the book's fresh binding and running your fingers over the clean, smooth paper.

Soft chuckling startled you away from your delight. You hadn't noticed George, who stood in the doorway to the dining room. He leaned against the frame casually with his hands in his pockets and his eyes on you.

"Oh, excuse me! Am I interrupting something?" he teased.

"No, no!" you laughed, feeling a bit embarrassed that he caught you in a vulnerable moment. You closed your book and set it on a side table for later. "Come in."

He did. George sat down on the other end of the sofa in a slouch, sighing leisurely. "What I'd give to feel the way you looked just now," he sniggered. He meant it jokingly, but the distant look in George's eyes abruptly reminded you of his brother's passing, making his comment seem very sad.

You laughed, trying to keep the mood light. "Nothing makes me so happy as opening a brand-new book. There's something so... satisfying about it."

George nodded. "Hmm... I think I remember feeling similarly when I was younger every time I opened a chocolate frog. I used to collect—"

You gasped in excitement, cutting him off. "I remember those! My dad used to bring them home for me... every now and then..." You trailed off as you remembered vaguely your father telling you about a particular chocolate frog card featuring a famous witch.

"Ah, that's right. You're... probably not buying much wizard candy these days," said George, and you're thankful that he continued the topic of sweets instead of your father.

"Nope," you said bluntly. "Even if I tried, I don't think I could. I assume I'm not allowed."

George surprised you with a disbelieving snort. "There's no way you wouldn't be allowed. You're a... a squib..." He paused, as if expecting you to be offended, but you only waited patiently for him to go on. "Not a muggle. As far as I know, no one should reject you, especially candy shops."

"Really?"

"Really. And if they did, it'd most likely be for your own safety." He laughed. "Now that I think about it, I definitely wouldn't want you in my shop without my close supervision."

"You own a candy shop?" you asked in astonishment.

He chuckled smugly, taking pleasure in your amaze. "I do! Well, I sell more than candy. It's a joke shop really."

"Oh, I wish I could see it!" you groaned and imagined all of the fantastic things you were missing out on.

George's expression changed to something of consideration. "Now that you know you're allowed, the only reason you don't is because you have no way of getting there, correct?" he asked.

"...Pardon?"

He gave a lop-sided smile and sat up straight, leaning toward you in excitement. "How would you like to come with me? To my shop I mean. I can even show you 'round all of Diagon Alley if you'd like!"

"Really?"

George laughed. "Really!"

"I would like that very much!" you said, grinning ecstatically, but your smile began to fade away. "Although... I'll have to talk over it with my mother first. She worries about me enough already..." It was then that you started to worry. You'd always dreamed of exploring places where witches and wizards gathered, let alone the famed Diagon Alley. But, since the Weasley's made you feel so happy that night, you'd forgotten for a time about your new little fear of magic until now.

George seemed to notice your anxiety. "Well, you can tell her that you'll be in good hands," he said cheerily. "I know that spot like the back of my hand, and we'll only do what you want to."

His words comforted you only somewhat. It wasn't that you didn't trust George; he was a childhood friend. You were more concerned about the other wizarding folk you might encounter in Diagon Alley.

At that moment, your mother walked into the room carrying a full tea tray. "Hello," she said as she set the tray down on the mini table in front of you and George. "I thought this would go nicely with the cake."

"Thanks, Mrs. y/l/n!" said George, moving to pour you and himself a cup.

"Yes, thank you," you said, though it was only out of politeness. Something about the way Mum was acting seemed suspicious.

She nodded. "You're very welcome." When you expected her to leave and go back to conversing with George's parents, she didn't. "I couldn't help but overhear something about a trip to Dragon Alley," Mum said, and you could tell she was trying to mask enthusiasm.

Ah, there it is, you thought to yourself.

"It's Diagon Alley. And yeah, George offered to take me. That is, if it sits well with you," you said. You weren't yet entirely sure if you wanted to go, but Mum's opinion would solidify your decision either way.

"Oh, of course!" Mum responded, all too encouraging, and you wondered if she had been intentionally eves-dropping on your conversation with George. "You are an adult now, your own person! You don't need me to tell you what to do or not do. Just stay safe and have fun! Enjoy the tea!" And with that, Mum went back to sit with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley in the dining room.

George sipped his tea noisily to catch your attention, eyeing you with raised eyebrows.

You chuckled awkwardly. "I suppose that's out of the way now..."

"My schedule is open on Thursday," he said and proceeded to drink his tea whilst staring at you.

"Hmm... Alright. Let's do it."

"I'll pick you up at 10:00?"

"That's fine."

"It's a date then!" George stated gladly, placing his empty cup back on the tray.

You weren't sure of what he meant exactly when he said "date", but all that really mattered to you at that moment was the fact that you had plans to visit Diagon Alley. The Diagon Alley: only the biggest wizarding shopping district in the UK! You could scarcely believe it.

You took a sip of your tea.

During the next forty-five minutes, you listened to George list all the things you could do on Thursday while at Diagon Alley. It made you so excited that, by the time Mr. Weasley came to tell George it was time for them to go, your face hurt from smiling so excessively.

You and Mum bid the Weasley's goodnight, and each of the three Weasley's bid you one more happy birthday before leaving.

"See you Thursday," George said as he was the last to step off your front porch, and you were taken aback when his smile disturbed the butterflies in your stomach. They had been dormant for so long, you had almost forgotten what it felt like.

"I look forward to it," you replied, biting the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from grinning stupidly, and closed the door. You turned around to come face to face with Mum, who was all but jumping up and down with eagerness.

"So? Tell me what's happening!" she demanded.

"He's gonna come get me at 10:00 on Thursday, and we'll just go from there!" you responded, and your own giddiness surprised you. You then pointed an accusatory finger at Mum. "Don't think I didn't know exactly what you were doing with that tea nonsense!" you laugh.

She giggled, shrugging shamelessly. "I've got to play my part as your mother! You might have chickened out if I hadn't."

"Wha— 'chickened out'?" you repeated.

Mum nodded. "You were this close," she said, holding her fingers together in a pinch. "Ever since you graduated highschool and your father passed away, you've really made an effort to hide away in this house. I want you to get out and... grow!"

You opened your mouth to make a rebuttal, but Mum interrupted.

"And you want it, too," she added. "You just don't know it yet."

"I understand where you're coming from, but I don't imagine getting a tour of the magical world is an easy start to 'getting out'," you snorted. "Aren't you a little bit... you know... afraid?"

Mum took a moment to think over your question. "Well, if I'm being honest, no," she said. "The threat that You-Know-Who... Voldemort and his followers posed is gone. Sure, there are still bad people, but that's just how the world is no matter where you are. You can't afford to be scared of reality, my dear."

You sighed. "I know. You're right."

"I always am," Mum chuckled. "I'm not sure why you were angry at me. I helped get you a date with a cute boy." She winked and nudged you in the ribs.

"Yeah, yeah, thanks a million," you snickered, rolling your eyes. "For the record, I'm an adult now; I don't date cute boys. I date handsome, young men."

Mum laughed. "That's more like it!" She then kissed you on the forehead, following with a hug. "Goodnight, y/n. And happy birthday."

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[artemisia-black]

Chamber of Secrets- an insight into intersecting identities.

I'm currently rereading the series, and while Philosopher's Stone introduces us to the magical world in general, Chamber of Secrets provides detailed insight into the hierarchy of the wizarding world and the intersectional identities within it. 

For context: Intersectionality was first developed by Kimberle Crenshaw, a legal scholar and critical race theorist, to address the limitations of traditional feminist and anti-discrimination movements, which often focused on single dimensions of identity, such as gender or race, while overlooking the intersections of multiple identities.

Intersectional identities recognize that people have various social, cultural, and personal characteristics that collectively influence their experiences and social positioning.

Using the information the reader learns in Chamber of Secrets, I will outline how specific characteristics influence an individual's social positioning within wizarding society by examining each broad social category. 

1.0 Squibs:  Magical competence as a baseline to acceptance within magical society

In chapter 8, the reader is first introduced to the concept of Squibs via Harry finding Filch’s Kwickspell letter on his desk. 

The letter itself quickly establishes how Squibs are viewed within magical society: 

“Feel out of step in the world of modern magic? Find yourself making excuses not to perform simple spells? Ever been taunted for your woeful wandwork? “

Terms such as “feel out of step” denote a strong sense of societal disadvantage. The final question about being “taunted for your woeful wandwork” shows how this disadvantage is viewed in wider society. 

This sense of societal disdain is furthered by the testimonies at the end of the letter, with Madam Z. Nettles apparently saying that her potions were a “family joke” and Warlock D. J. Prod of Didsbury claiming that his “ [...] wife used to sneer at my feeble charms.”

Indeed, reading the letter makes Harry ask himself the following question: 

“ Why on earth did Filch want a Kwikspell course? Did this mean he wasn’t a proper wizard?” 

This idea of Filch not being seen as a ‘proper wizard’ is then further reinforced when we examine the position of Filch within Hogwarts. 

 In the scene leading to Harry reading the letter, Filch has been cleaning the school despite having a cold, both of which could be easily fixed with magic. 

“It’s only a bit of mud to you, boy, but to me, it’s an extra hour scrubbing!” shouted Filch, a drip shivering unpleasantly at the end of his bulbous nose.” 

Interestingly, in a previous scene, we see Ginny Weasley taking a Pepperup Potion for a cold, yet Filch is visibly ill and made to do manual labour. 

This contempt towards squibs takes on a new layer when we examine the pureblood character’s attitude towards them. When Harry first tells Ron about Filch, Ron “stifles a snigger” before saying: 

“Well — it’s not funny really — but as it’s Filch,” he said. “A Squib is someone who was born into a wizarding family but hasn’t got any magic powers.” 

This quote demonstrates that Ron essentially regards the characteristic as a misfortune, and this is furthered by Neville Longbottom’s anxiety when the attacks begin ramping up: 

 “Neville Longbottom bought a large, evil-smelling green onion, a pointed purple crystal, and a rotting newt tail before the other Gryffindor boys pointed out that he was in no danger; he was a pureblood and, therefore, unlikely to be attacked.

“They went for Filch first,” Neville said, his round face fearful. “And everyone knows I’m almost a Squib.”

Neville’s behaviour provides an interesting insight into how being a pureblood doesn’t count unless you have magical power, and therefore, being a pureblood with the intersecting identity of being a squib nullifies all social power afforded by the label of pureblood. It is also interesting that Neville spends money in order to protect himself from attack(and I will get onto wealth later). 

2.0 Muggleborns - Wealth does not buy social capital 

This is the first book where the slur ‘mudblood’ is used and is the first (in depth) look at how muggleborns are treated within society. 

The reader first learns about the myth of the chamber from Professor Binns, but Hermione says that the myth is also discussed within “Hogwarts a History.” Therefore, the muggleborns who read the book about the history of their school are aware of a myth about a monster who exists to rid the school of their presence (a myth that is reinforced by the slurs that are thrown at them). Additionally, the very real chamber being located under the foundations of the school, only further reinforces the idea that muggleborn students exist in a world that at its core is hostile to them. 

Furthermore, the markers of social privilege from the muggle world does not provide any protection from the discrimination and we see this in the character of Justin Finch-Fletchley. In his introduction to Harry, he says:

“My name was down for Eton..” 

For context, Eton is an elite British public school that has turned out countless politicians, royals and the majority of the people in power today. Thus, Justin being down for Eton is shorthand for the immense privilege he must come from within the muggle world. 

However, this wealth and privilege do not save him from attack. Similarly, neither Penelope Clearwater’s status as a prefect nor Hermione's magical aptitude save them from being petrified. 

Therefore, it can be concluded that the stigma and discrimination associated with being a muggleborn often detracts from or does not influence characteristics that would add to their social standing if they were purebloods. 

3.0 Part humans and wizarding unease 

In this book, house-elves are introduced as powerful magical beings who despite being fully sentient are enslaved to wizards, and in later books we learn about the ban on Goblins carrying wands (despite, or more likely because of, them running the wizarding banking system). Both house elf enslavement and the treatment of Goblins allude to deep unease felt by wizards towards sentient beings with magical power. 

Furthermore, the reader gets a glimpse into the treatment of part-humans through the story of Hagrid’s expulsion (although at this point we don’t know that he is half giant).  

Indeed according to Tom Riddle, there was very little evidence for Hagrid’s expulsion: 

“It was my word against Hagrid’s, Harry. Well, you can imagine how it looked to old Armando Dippet.”

And while it is clear that Tom Riddle leveraged his own charisma against Hagrid, even he expresses surprise at how well it worked: 

“…. but I admit, even / was surprised how well the plan worked.” 

Perhaps the plan worked so well, because consciously or subconsciously Dippet did not like seeing a half human with a wand? 

And upon expulsion, Hagrid is given a manual job (much like Filch) and occupies a lesser position within the society. That he perhaps wouldn’t occupy if he were fully qualified (like Flitwick who is part Goblin).

4.0 Hierarchy amongst Purebloods

The top of the wizarding pecking order is undoubtedly the purebloods. However, amongst them there is an internal hierarchy which is determined by two key intersectional identities: 

Being part of the sacred 28- This list represents a group of families who claim to have no Muggle or muggle born ancestry and these families consider themselves to be the "purest" of wizarding bloodlines. They are also often concerned about keeping muggleborns out of wizarding spaces. 

Wealth

Although the Sacred 28, is not mentioned directly in this book, Lucius Malfoy uses its principles to assert his superiority over the pureblood Arthur Weasley: 

“Obviously not,” Mr. Malfoy said. “Dear me, what’s the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don’t even pay you well for it?”

[...]

“We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy,” he said.

“Clearly,” said Mr. Malfoy, his pale eyes straying to Mr. and Mrs. Granger, who were watching apprehensively. “The company you keep, Weasley ... and I thought your family could sink no lower — ”

During this exchange, Malfoy slips Riddle’s diary into Ginny’s book, imposing his ‘Sacred 28’  onto a family that lacks the wealth to shield themselves from the consequences of the havoc about to be unleashed. And this is not something he does on a whim, as Dobby tells Harry about the plot to open the chamber weeks before this (although he doesn’t say it directly). It is a calculated move by Malfoy who understands the intersecting identities at play between himself and Arthur. 

5.0 The case of Half-bloods

Ostensibly Half-bloods appear to occupy the middle ground between Muggleborns and Purebloods. 

However, the identity of Half-blood does not have a slur attached and is often presented in the text as fairly value neutral when compared to the other blood status identifiers. And the key Half-blood characters seem to place on a spectrum depending on their other intersecting identities: 

Dumbledore- is more on the Pureblood side of the spectrum as he has magical power (which from the discussion about Squibs can negate even Pureblood status) and potentially also has wealth (a marker of hierarchy even amongst Purebloods). 

Harry- is similar to Dumbledore in that he has power and wealth. In addition to having the social status of being the wizarding world’s saviour. 

Tom Riddle/Voldemort- uses his magical power to move towards  the Pureblood side of the spectrum and becomes a ruler to many sacred28 Purebloods. 

Snape- Despite his lack of wealth, his magical power moves him towards the Pureblood end of the social spectrum. But the lack of wealth does impede him from being fully accepted.

In conclusion, the wizarding social hierarchy is not as clear cut as pureblood or muggleborn. Instead it is formed of several idiosyncratic, intersecting identities.

[gimme-gimme-georgie-weasley]

earlessly bloody. [g.w. x reader]

Summary: The war took away loved ones, but he was resolute.

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: BRIEF brief BRIEF mentions of suicidal thoughts.

* * *

[GIF not by me]

11:23 pm.

Nights were sleepless, cold, and threatening.

The town outside Ottery St. Catchpole had fallen right into the hands of the Dark Lord; burning it down to mere cinders– reduced to nothing but a whisper of what was once bustling with magical life.

Your nightmares had progressively gotten worse– the voices of those who had fallen were wisping around your head, crying out to you to spare them. You could feel their dead touch slowly creeping its way up your leg as if they were trying to drag you down with them to the abyss. 

Muggles, Wizards, Squibs, young, and old. They all fell to the hands of Lord Voldemort.

The face of a noseless man whose withered hand beckoned you, lulling you into his grasp, “Y/N, won’t you join me?”

Slowly, he was getting closer.

And closer.

And closer.

Then,

A ghoulish, hoarse voice, “Kill the spare.”

“Avada Kedavra!” 

A bright bile green.

Then, you jolted awake violently. Tears were trickling down. Your breathing hastened shallowly, fighting for air as your heart pounded, threatening to jump out. Everything was a blurry mess, though. Your vision seemed as though you were looking through a shattered muggle camera lens. Everything seemed disfigured as if the world was rotating at a hundred kilometres per second. 

Before you realised it, furniture was being thrashed around the room. Mirrors had shattered into smithereens. Tables were upturned. Windows were wide open. The wind howled into your ear, sending shivers down the sweaty, sticky skin of your spine; but something else was trying to call out to you. It seemed as though it were trying to pull you back into conscience. Trying to snap out of your magical nightmares.

“Y/N?” the muffled voice was getting progressively louder and louder.

“Y/N!”

Your eyes had finally focused. You were in the present, safe and sound. 

There was no Dark Lord grabbing you, no voices trying to drag you down with them. 

A large, warm, yet rough hand had combed through your hair, “You’re safe now, my love. It’s okay, you’re okay. Everything is okay.”

George.

Your strands fluttered back into place, though some had stuck to the sides of your sweaty temples. Your rugged breathing had slowly stabilised. George’s hand lifted your chin, beckoning your eyes to meet. A warm kiss was placed on the top of your head.

His hazel eyes were dark and fatigued with eyebags laying low underneath. They were stained by the loom of war, but still, they looked lovingly at you, searching your eyes for any sign of distress.  How you’d kill to rid him of all his worries, and he the same.

Molly had rushed into the room with Arthur filing behind. They both had their wands in hand, ready to cast protegos and stupefies, but what they found was the same scene for the last Merlin knows how many nights.

“Oh, Y/N!” Molly cried out with a shuddered breath. 

She rushed over to you, pulled you away, and enveloped you in her warm, motherly embrace.

You couldn’t help but fall right into it.

“When will it end?” You cried as your breathing hitched.

How you wish it could all come to an end. Every now and then, you wondered if by just pointing your wand at yourself– no. You mustn’t. Never. 

Never, ever, ever.

Molly gingerly patted your back as your face deepened into the crook of her neck, staining her sweater with tears, “I know, dear, I know.”

George absentmindedly filled his father in on the details whilst Arthur restored the damaged furniture. He kept his eyes on you, pondering when to drop the bomb. He knew, however, that now was not the time, with you having just recovered from a panic attack and all. He hated seeing you like this, knowing the war had affected you so much even in your sleep. If only…

If only he could keep you safe, forever. And ever.

And ever, and ever.

And ever.

And oh, how he wished he could just take you by the hand, and with a crack, apparate the two of you where the Dark Lord was the least of your worries. A place where he could take you on the back of his broom, chasing sunsets, sunrises, and many more to come.

However, he knew, deep down, for as long as the Dark Lord was alive, your days together were numbered.

Your sunsets and sunrises were indefinite.

* * *

2:57 am.

George had cast a quick Muffliato in the living room. His eyebrows were knit together, face reddening by the second as he pulled at his scalp, ripping out a few ginger strands in the process.

“No! I’m not leaving her! You know how vulnerable she is!” He roared out, pacing the living room back and forth.

Ron, who had arrived half an hour prior, turned to Hermione with a ‘Please help’ look on his face.

Getting the memo, Hermione turned back and tried to place a reassuring hand on George’s shoulder but was quickly shoved back rudely.

With a huff, she straightened her woollen coat, “George," she started, "I understand that Y/N isn’t stable at the moment, but we have to escort Harry to Grimmauld Place! It’s not safe for him at the Dursleys anymore!” her voice laced desperately with reason. Surely he would understand?

Then, for a brief moment, he saw an image of him and Fred carrying Harry in the Gryffindor common room proudly with the golden egg in hand. Harry was one of his closest friends, if not his younger brother. He had helped fund Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, after all. He owed that debt to him. For the rest of his life.

...

But what about you?

The world, or you? You, or the world?

Nevertheless, he knew if he helped save the world, you’d be finally safe again. You were his world. 

No more dreams plagued by Vile Voldie, no more nightmares; just you and him. 

Safe and sound.

Resolute, he finally grabbed his wand that had been flung frustratedly to the corner of the room, and with a swoop of robes, he was in the Floo.

“Well? What are you two waiting for? We have the world to save!”

* * *

3:46 am.

A Patronus had been sent out to you, and before you knew it, you were up, dressed and Floo’d to Grimmauld Place.

The sight in front of you.

Oh, Merlin.

Please, no.

Why?

Why him?

Merlin, why?

Why? Why?

Why?

WHY?

Then, your tears became an ocean.

Terrible. It was all terrible.

If only he hadn’t. If only he were a little more selfish. Oh, Merlin’s beard, it all came crashing down on him. He was an ear lighter. There was a deep, deep, gash in the side of his face.

His clothes were covered in cold, dark, dried crimson. Sparks of black seemed to crackle where his ear would have been.

You howled out, “George!” 

Arthur, Bill, Fleur, and everyone else who had helped in escorting Harry, stood around the couch that nestled the maimed George, almost like a protective barrier.

Your legs barely managed to pick themselves up as you bolted over to him, dropping your wand and satchel. Fred was right beside him, head resting on his abdomen as he grasped his cold hand. Molly’s wand illuminated a warm sort of yellow, trying to ease him of the pain that writhed in the side of his face, as if a bunch of maggots were crawling around, nestling away into the deepest depths of his cheek.

“Dark Magic.” Harry, who had been unscathed save for a few scratches, muttered.

Of all the sacrifices in the world to protect the Boy Who Lived, it just had to be him. You couldn't blame Harry, though. Without him, the Wizarding world would've been burned to ashes by now.

You could barely make out your words in between ugly, mournful sobs, “Oh, my love…”

Hands wrapped gently around his head, you stared at him wondering where you went wrong. What did you do in your past life to deserve such karma? It should’ve been you instead who took that stupid sectumsempra. It should’ve been you, but you had only found out about George joining to escort Harry moments ago after being woken up by a brilliant stag. 

Then, his eyes slowly fluttered open. They were drained of life, hazel and oh so dismally dull. But still, they widened like glass marbles, glistening with tears and red-rimmed from fatigue.

“Y/N? Why’re you–?”

You placed a hand over his mouth, relief lacing your voice as you could only speak a few broken sentences before you were a mess again, “Shh… Rest, my little spark.” 

Then, his chapped, cold lips kissed your palm and you were back in fifth year again.

Waltzing 'round the empty corridors to a slow Muggle tune with his arms around your waist, kissing the palm of the hand that he had lifted up. Then, he'd lift you up, giggling like little children.

What a time to be alive, you reminisced, but was brought back to the present by his silky sweet voice.

“It’s alright, love. I feel saint-like– holey.” You snorted, and so did Fred, whose head had shot up the moment he knew his brother was back, “Holey?”

Fred added, “Out of all the ear-related jokes in this world and you choose ‘holey’?”

The room erupted into raucous, heart-warming laughter; and for a moment– there was no Dark Lord hot on Harry’s trail, or a pack of Death Eaters wreaking havoc. It was just friends and family.

And George, albeit earless and bloody.

* * *

a/n: did anyone else get the wee hamilton reference?

[ominiscient]

Sneaking into the Restricted Section

Ominis Gaunt x reader Fluff, a bit of crack, 1k words AO3 link I wrote this for @cuffmeinblack, and I was inspired by a tiktok by tiktok user gauntlete    Ominis was impatient to get started on his research. He'd laid in bed and waited until his roommate's breathing evened out before slipping his shoes on and slipping out of their shared room and out the Common Room, into the dungeons. The castle seemed eerie without the ambient sound of other students chatting and walking to classes. He cast a disillusionment charm on himself before climbing up the stairs on his right toward the Library Annex to grab a few books from the Restricted Section. As he reached the top, he paused, listening for any sounds other than his breathing.

   From behind him, so quietly that he would've missed it if he'd been walking at a regular pace instead of creeping, came a familiar voice: "So this is why you've been falling asleep in class."

With a strangled cry, he whirled around and grabbed at his chest as if the motion could stop his heart from leaping up into his throat from the shock. His disillusionment charm dropped and his wand's sensing charm was flaring as wildly as his heart.

   "Sebastian!" he hissed, hearing his friend chuckle. "Are you trying to kill me?"

The brunet had winced at the startled shout but was finding it hard not to laugh. After all, it wasn't every day one saw Ominis lose his cool. 

   "No," Sebastian said, a line forming between his brows, "but I'm sure if you keep making a ruckus, Peeves will see to it that Professor Black rings both our necks for being out of bed after hours."

   "Then do us both a favor and don't sneak up on me like that!"

Having regained his composure, Ominis ran a hand through his hair and held his breath, listening for any sign that someone was coming to patrol the corridor. The only sounds were his heavy breaths and Sebastian's snickering.

   "I wouldn't have to sneak up on you," Sebastian huffed, "if you were in our dorm like you're supposed to be. What are you doing out of bed at this ungodly hour anyways?"

   "... Nothing."

Sebastian rolled his eyes at his oldest friend.

   "Honestly, Ominis, just admit you're trying to sneak into the Restricted Section."

Ominis sputtered.

   "What?! Who mentioned anything about -"

   "You're really going to try and tell me, the person who always gets detention, that this route you're taking at this late hour isn't the exact one that leads to the Library Annex?" Sebastian deadpanned.

Ominis cast a look in Sebastian's direction and sighed. 

   "I suppose there's no lying to you, is there? You guessed correctly; I'm sneaking into the Restricted Section for some research."

Raising his eyebrows, Sebastian nodded. 

   "Seeing as it's your first time on this daunting adventure, I suppose I could help sneak you in. Is there a certain book you're hoping to find?" said Sebastian, eager to know what subject his friend, who never broke the rules, would be so interested in.

   "...I do have a few books in mind... but if you help me with finding them, you can never, ever mention them!

   "Well, sure-" Sebastian started before Ominis cut him off, waving his hand frantically.

   "I mean it, Sebastian! You must never speak of it! 

   "Whatever it is you're researching, it can't be that bad." Sebastian's curiosity was peaking, and he was itching to hear what had the blond so worked up. Sighing, Ominis reached into his cloak, pulled out a neatly folded piece of parchment, and handed it to Sebastian. Opening it, Sebastian read the first book title without comprehending it fully. Surely he had misread?

   "'Don't be a SQUIB at LOVE'?" he asked incredulously. 

   "Please don't read them out loud!" Ominis was blushing, but trying hard to sound stern. Ignoring him, Sebastian continued.

   "'No Love Potion? No Problem!'" he snickered, the titles were getting better and better the further down he read.

   "'Chocolates or Flowers? The Muggle Art of Seduction.' What would your family think?" Sebastian shook his head in mock disappointment. 

Ominis wasn't sure if he could die of embarrassment, but in this moment, he wouldn't be surprised if he did.

   "'I'm Not a Warlock... I'm a Lovelock!'" Sebastian was trying his best to keep quiet, his shoulders shaking, and tears welling up in his eyes.

Much like Sebastian's shoulders, Ominis was trembling and blushing a firey red at this point. He silently begged for someone to end his suffering.

   "That's enough! Shut it, Sebastian-"

   "'Wild Ways to Bewilder Your Witch by Your Bedroom Wandwork!' Ominis, you wild beast!" Sebastian was howling.

Ominis reached to grab the parchment, but Sebastian was too quick.

   "'Leave Your Witch so Satisfied, She'll Continue Moaning into the Afterlife!'" at that, Sebastian was doubling over in a fit of tears and laughter, his lungs desperate for a proper breath of air.

Ominis gripped his wand and considered using a Confundus Charm on the brunet. Maybe even Obliviate just for good measure. Sebastian reached out and patted the blond's back in a reassuring way while wiping his tears away with the other.

   "Don't worry, buddy, I'll help you get these books and I swear, I will never mention anything about them. Still want me to make that Unbreakable Vow?" he held his hand out. Still blushing, Ominis shook his head. 

   "I trust you, Sebastian. Even though you laughed at my expense just now," he said tiredly. 

Recasting a disillusionment charm, they both made their way to the library to get the books for Ominis. Sebastian had suspected for a while now that Ominis fancied the new 5th year, and to him, this list proved it. 

   The next morning, MC, who had actually spent the night in their bed, walked into the Great Hall to find both boys asleep next to each other at the breakfast table. They looked positively knackered; Sebastian had dark circles under his eyes and Ominis' usual neat hair looked like it was one strong breeze away from being mussed. Smiling mischievously, MC took their wand out and pointed it at an empty bowl that sat innocently on the table between the two Slytherins.

   "Aguamenti," they whispered, then proceeded to gently put one hand each into the bowl before heading off to class.