#and i found some rubbish take in my search so that made not so happy

[delicatebluebirdruins]

disclaimer: still haven't played village so some of what i'm saying might just be talking shit

Village skips over so much of Mia's story. Mia has a story too big for just a "small" part of a game. She worked for the bad guys full stop exclamation point and highlighted. We can speculate to the cows come home of how big her role is considering Not a Hero and bakers incident report (where we can infer she made a deal to stay out of prison) and that they get dropped in the main game with the exception of a few somewhat vague things

[dot-cant-write]

A Different Chord - Sammy Lawrence x Reader (Part Five)

It’s getting busy at the studio, and you can’t find Sammy Lawrence.

A/N: In honor of BatDR not being dead, I have actually written stuff. (Sorry for the wait.)

————————————————————————

It had been nearly half a year since your lessons with Sammy began, and things were busier than ever in the studio. It had been at least a week since your last banjo lesson (though admittedly, they were turning into sessions where you told Sammy gossip from around the studio). One day on your break, you headed down to the Music Department to see Sammy.

Henry had practically kicked you out of the art department anyway, complaining that you’re too young to work straight through the day. He said he was gonna have to talk to to Joey about that. Breaks were practically nonexistent in the studio, after all, especially as of late. Joey Drew’s deadlines were becoming more and more imposing and strict. Now that you thought about it, everyone seemed more on edge lately. You rolled your shoulders back and moseyed towards the music director’s office.

When you got there, you were surprised to see that his office was empty. Maybe he was still with the band? You went down the hall to check. As you rounded the corner into the practice room, you frowned. The room was empty. The band must not be meeting today. Or maybe they were taking their own break. Either way, the practice room was empty.

“Don’t know where he went, kiddo. Kicked us all out awhile ago.” A drawling voice made you jump. Turning around, you found Norman Polk on the balcony, fidgeting with a projector.

“That Sammy Lawrence is a strange one, I’ll tell ya… Once he kicked the band out, he ran all the way up here. Heard him flip the projector on, then he ran all the back down here. He played some instruments or somethin’, and he hasn’t come out for a long time. Peculiar man, dunno what you see in him,” Norman continued. That was the most you’d ever heard him speak. Your face reddened a little at his words.

“He’s just teaching me how to play the banjo, Mr. Polk! Don’t get the wrong idea,” you defended.

Norman grinned like the cheshire cat. “I think you’d better tell him that. Never seen that crazy composer as happy as he is when he’s teachin’ you.”

You shook your head hopelessly, feeling the heat in your cheeks. “I’m going to go find Sammy, Mr. Polk.” With that, you exited the room and started searching around, ignoring what Norman had said.

You couldn’t find Sammy anywhere, oddly enough. You swore he never left the music department, and Norman mentioned he’d been in the band room, but there was no sign of the musician. Instead, you’d decided to settle down in his office and wait for him to return.

—————————

Sammy’s office had become a bit busier as of late. Joey Drew had pipes installed to carry ink for some weird sort of project, and the switch for the pumps was placed there. People often came in and out of the office, usually GENT workers or janitors like Wally. Sammy’s desk had also become a bit messier. It had been a lot busier in the studio and you hadn’t had as frequent lessons… Since when had it become so unorganized?

After turning Sammy’s radio on, you started to stack the sheet music scattered across his desk. There were a lot of ink stains on the music. Come to think of it, there were also a lot of ink bottles in his rubbish bin… Why was he going through so much ink?

You shrugged it off once you noticed a black notebook under the sheet music you’d sorted. Curiosity gnawed on your bones, and as you started to reach for the book—

“(Y/N), you’re in my office.” Sammy Lawrence appeared, leaning on the doorframe. He looked slightly amused.

“Um yup, sure am. It’s a disaster in here, you should hire a maid,” You joked lightly, hoping he hadn’t seen you reach for his notebook.

“How long have you been waiting here?” Sammy asked. Changing the subject.

“Only for a little while. Where have you been? Got time for a lesson?”

The composer only responded to the latter question. “Only a short one. Joey has me writing songs for three different Bendy cartoons, all due tonight.” His expression soured.

“Why not work on those then? I don’t mind.”

“You’re just a distraction, I won’t be able to write much while you’re here. Besides, I have… certain things I have to do. Alone,” he added hastily.

Odd. “Do you want me to leave? Am I too distracting?” You asked, waggling your eyebrows playfully. You tried to keep Norman’s words from creeping back into your head.

“Oh, can it. Quit being a child,” Sammy said, but you swear a smile crept up on his face.

“Make me,” you chided lightly. Sammy strode over to where you were sitting at his desk. He towered over you normally, but was even taller while you sat. Leaning down, the musician placed a hand on his desk. He stared straight into your eyes, smirking. He was so close-

The moment was over in an instant. Turning away, he chuckled. “That’s what I thought. Now please, let me work.”

You should probably tell him what Norman said…

You decided not to.

[thebadgerclan]

One Of Those Days

Pairing: Jesper Fahey x reader

Summary: On days like this, you just need to be pampered...

Smut!

A/N: Based on the post I made this morning about my Morning Thoughts ™

There was only one word to describe how you were feeling today: needy.  From the  moment you woke up, you’d been craving Jesper and everything about him.  His closeness, his scent, his touch, his voice.  When he’d tried to get out of bed, you’d whined and clung to him desperately, like if he even left the room, you’d never see him again.  Jesper knew, as he always did, that today was going to be a day in which he’d do nothing but shower you in some much needed attention; something he was more than happy to do.

Which is where the afternoon found you: cradled in your boyfriend’s lap, naked where he was fully clothed, your back to his chest, head on his shoulder, hands clutching his biceps.  Jesper had his lips pressed to your temple, occasionally moving them to your forehead, jaw, or neck when he saw fit.  Sweet nothing left his mouth as he kissed you, making you more and more breathless by the second.

“What do you need, sweetheart?” he asked.  “Tell me, and I’ll give it to you.”  “Touch me,” you breathed, feeling as if you were on fire.  “Touch me, please Jes!”  His hand trailed teasingly from your breast down your stomach, pausing just above where you needed him most.  “Here, love?”  “Yes!” you pleased.  “Yes, please!”  “Shhh, alright, pretty thing,” Jesper cooed, sliding two fingers through your dripping folds and into your cunt.

You arched your back, moaning at the feeling of your boyfriend’s fingers within you.  Jesper’s fingers were long and dexterous; perfect for maintaining his precious revolvers, but also perfect for reaching and rubbing that spot inside you that had you seeing stars effortlessly.  “My pretty girl,” Jesper said, one arm wrapped around your abdomen, keeping you pressed to his chest.  “So fucking beautiful.”

“Jesper,” you moaned, rolling your hips into his hand.  “Jesper, yes!”  “Yeah  Feel good, princess?”  You nodded, teeth sinking into your lower lip.  “Good.  Let me hear you, baby.  I wanna hear how good I make you feel.”  At that, you let out a louder, longer moan; a moan that made Jesper throb in his trousers.  “Fuck, you’re perfect, Y/N.  My perfect girl, so good for me.”  Jesper moved his hand faster, bringing your already nearing orgasm closer to the edge.

“I think you’re close, precious, are you?”  “Yeah,” you replied, holding onto Jesper’s free hand with both of yours.  “Good.  Then I want you to come for me, sweetheart.”  You didn’t need to be told twice; with one more thrust of his fingers, you were coming, sweet whimpers leaving your mouth as you did.  Jesper sucked a mark onto your shoulder as you rode out your orgasm, but he continued fingering you at the same pace.  The feeling of your pussy squeezing around his fingers made him groan low in his throat, and he yearned to pin you to the mattress and fuck you senseless.  But he’d give you at least one more orgasm before he considered his own pleasure.

Your head lolled back on his shoulder, eyes shut in bliss.  “My Y/N, you’re fucking perfect.  So smart, so damn smart, baby.  And I love you so much.  Saints, I fucking love you.  You’re my baby, Y/N, and I’m gonna make my baby feel so fucking good.”  You could only weakly nod in response, and when Jesper ground the heel of his palm against your clit, you yelped, bucking your hips in search of more friction, chasing the high that was once again so close, so tantalizingly close.  

“Oh Jes, right there!  Yes, fuck, I’m gonna-yes!”  You cried his name as you came again, grinding back against Jesper’s aching length.  He slowed his hand a bit once you’d come down from your high, and you whimpered.  “Can you do one more for me, love?” he asked, rubbing your arm sweetly.  “One more on my cock?”  Despite having released twice in the last 6 minutes, the thought of being filled with your boyfriend’s cock was too perfect to deny, and you nodded.

“Need to hear you say it princess.”  “Yes, Jesper, please.”  He kissed your cheek, grinning to himself.  “That’s my girl,” he praised, pulling his fingers out of you and wiping them on his trousers.  Jesper turned you in his lap so you were facing him, lifting your hips so he could unfasten his trousers and pull his cock free.  You moaned at the sight, and Jesper lined himself up and helped you sink down onto him.  “Shit, you’re so fucking wet, baby,” he moaned, his teeth grit.

When you made to start riding him, Jesper gripped your hips, halting your motions.  “Let me, sweetheart.  Let me take care of my baby.”  You nodded, lust clouding your brain.  Jesper planted his feet on the mattress, holding your hips above his so he could thrust up into you.  Your boyfriend fucked you fast, already rather close from you rubbing against him while he pleasured you.  “Jes!” you cried.  “Fuck, yes!  R-right there, that’s it!”

Jesper moaned, a feral sound, thrusting harder.  Your legs were shaking, trying in vain to support yourself, and you brought a hand to your clit, rubbing tight circles around it, hastening your orgasm.  “Oh Saints, Y/N, baby, are you close?  I don’t think I can last much longer.  You were making such pretty noises for me and grinding on my cock while I pleasured you.”  You moaned as you nodded, rubbing your clit a bit faster.

“Yeah.  Just a little more,” you said, head tipping back, exposing the oh-so kissable column of your throat.  “Y/N, baby, I’m gonna come, fuck!”  Jesper pulled your hips down flush against his as he came, the feeling of his release triggering your own.  Jesper pulled you into a seating kiss, wrapping both arms around you, holding you close.  “Fuck,” he whispered against your lips once he’d caught his breath.  “I love you so damn much Y/N.”

“I love you too, Jes,” you panted, utterly spent.  Jesper eased you off of his cock, settling you back in his lap and pulling the sheets over your naked form.  He reached into his nightstand and pulled out a vial of your Alkemi made contraceptive, which he unstoppered and held to your lips.  You drank it before resting your head on Jesper’s shoulder, sated and sleepy.  “Thank you, Jes,” you said, and the Zemini cocked his head.

“For what, baby?”  “For staying here all day with me.  You probably had stuff to do, and-”  “Shhh, none of that rubbish.  You’re my baby, I’ll always take care of my baby.”  You smiled, snuggling closer to his chest.  “I love you, Jes.”  “I love you too, sweetheart.  Try and get some rest now, alright?  Maybe I’ll have Nina make us some waffles later.”  “I’d like that,” you said, eyes slowly sliding shut.  Jesper pressed a kiss to your forehead, squeezing your hand gently.  “My baby,” he said, mostly to himself.  “I love you so much.”

[petri808]

Ooooo can you do, “you’re my mate?” 🥺

Sure! 😊

@stillsnowfalling

“Natsu, you know our ways, and as heir to this clan, it is my duty to choose who you will marry!”

“But it’s not fair!”

“When you are finally king, you can change the rules, but until then, I have chosen to uphold tradition.”

“But dad!”

Igneel bellowed at his defiant son. “The nuptial rites will take place in three moons! That is final!”

Natsu stomped away from his father absolutely furious! This whole traditional bullshit of arranged marriages was as outdated as the most ancient scrolls held in their reliquary. Why was his father so adamant about upholding such an antiquated rule?! The draco clan was doing perfectly fine, what need was there for a marriage based on an alliance? At least give him a chance to choose his own bride so the union was one of love instead of condemnation.

“I won’t love whoever he chooses!” Natsu growled to himself, and his first ruling as king will be to pick someone he actually desired.

Because there was someone… he sighed, and dropped into a squat on the rock outcropping. When Natsu couldn’t stand being in the village anymore, he ran to a place that brought him a tiny bit of peace, deep in the forest. The tiny pond was hidden from prying eyes. None of his attendants or even friends knew about the place— save for one, if he could even call her a friend anymore…

It was here, in this very spot twelve years ago after the draco had once again run away from under his fathers thumb that he met her. Lucy whose last name he knew not. They were so young at the time. Natsu was a young draco of 7-year’s old, and she a 5-year-old forest fairy. Of course, it had nothing to do with love at that age, they were just two children running away for their own reasons and found a friend to play with. For the next two years, Natsu and Lucy would meet every day around lunch time and played until dusk or risk someone coming to look for them. They had so much fun together, it was truly the best two years of his life. The draco and the fairy…

Natsu still remembered the day Lucy never showed up at the pond like it was yesterday. How he went back every single day for months hoping to see those big brown eyes and wispy blonde hair waiting for him. But it wasn’t meant to be. He had no idea why she stopped coming or if she was even still alive. Had something bad happened to her? Or was it more likely her father had caught her running off into the woods? Lucy would tell him the stories of an over bearing father that made his blood boil over in anger. The problem was, she refused to tell him exactly where she came from.

The years passed by and his own father stepped up his son’s kingship training. Natsu didn’t like the constraint and many a time wished he’d been born a simple clansman. He often promised himself that one day when he did become king, he would send out his men to search for the wayward blonde of his childhood to make her his wife. But, Natsu never imagined that his father would step in to choose one for him first.

He sighed, and stared into the dark blue pool as if praying to its watery gods for a miracle. “Lucy…” if only Natsu knew where she was, he’d find her and run away from here…

The moons came and went in a flash, and the day of the nuptial rites had finally arrived. Natsu felt dead inside, his body merely following the instructions given to him. It was all scheduled out. Whoever was his bride-to-be had arrived with her family two days ago, but guards had kept him sequestered in his room, both for fear of him running away as well as upholding the tradition that they not meet until the the ceremony itself. Natsu was dressed in a ceremonial attire made of fine leather, and decorated in their clans red and gold colors. Every little detail was attended to, including painting his horns and wings with golden markings that he didn’t understand. All a part of the so-called tradition.

His cousin Sting came into Natsu’s room and gave him a couple of play punches on his shoulder. “Cheer up, it’s almost over.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Natsu rolled his eyes. “Do me a favor, and just shove a dagger in my heart.”

“She can’t be all that bad, and besides, if you ain’t happy with her, just find yourself a concubine.”

“Keh! You know that’s not allowed!”

“Only if you get caught,” the fellow draco winked.

“Just get out,” Natsu sighed in full disinterest. “I’m not in a mood to banter.” He just wanted to fantasize about brown eyes and dream of a happier life.

“Suit yourself.” Sting shrugged and left his cousin alone. “Your dad said someone will come to take you to the ceremony in an hour. So, at least try to look interested.”

“Tch.” As if that would happen…

Minutes before high noon, Natsu was led from his chambers to the ceremonial hut. It was skin crawling as he was paraded through the rows of awaiting onlookers like a goat being led to slaughter. At least, that’s how he felt. Not a future king, but a sacrifice just to satisfy an alliance. Once inside the wooden structure, there was only the priest, his father, and another man assumably the father of the bride standing to the sides. Natsu was stood in front of the priest to wait for the brides arrival, but kept his head down the whole time. While he wasn’t looking, his ears stayed tuned to the goings on around him, and after a brief wait, he could hear chatter coming from outside. She had arrived.

His scowl grew as the tiny steps came closer, every fiber of his being in argument— should he just run? But he knew he wouldn’t get far with the place surrounded. The priest began to speak and Natsu only half-listened. Most of it was rubbish anyways, the typical stuff one might hear in such a ceremony. Some chanting, some instructions. He just stood there silently, with eyes glued to the floor. But there was one thing he could sense, the female wasn’t happy either. Her silent sobbing coupled with the demoralized aura surrounding her body spoke volumes. He rolled his eyes. ‘Great, this union will be such a happy one! Thanks dad.’

“Please remove her headdress,” the priest instructed Natsu, “and take her hands.”

He groaned in his head, but followed the instructions like a wooden puppet, looking up for the first time since entering the building. Natsu pulled the dark veil up to finally get a look at the woman, but his hands froze midair as he stared into big brown eyes coated in moisture. Was his mind playing tricks on him? Was it so distressed that it projected who he wanted to see?!

It was a gasp from the woman and the fluttering of gold-dusted fairy wings that snapped his brain back to the present.

“N-Natsu?!”

“Lucy? Y-You’re my mate?”

“I’m your mate,” she responded with a twinkle in her eyes.

Natsu looked towards his father in confusion only to find a man standing there with the biggest grin. Son-of-a— his dad knew all along! He smiled brightly and happily took Lucy’s hands at the priests insistent instruction to move along with the ceremony. But it was clear from that point that neither paid any attention to the priest, too focused only on each other. Little tears still trickled down her smiling face, while his sported a euphoric high. And when the words came to kiss the bride, Natsu gladly swept forward and took the lips he’d dreamed of kissing for years. He got his wish.

[comfortwriting]

Prompt 15 - G.W

George Weasley x Fem Reader

Masterlist, Prompt list, Request rules

Prompt 15: “if he finds out he’ll never speak to me again!” 

About: The reader and George are trying something new in the bedroom, the reader isn’t enjoying it but George is really into it. The reader fakes her orgasm, and George later finds out and gets really insecure. When he finds out why, they make up by George pleasing her, making her squirt and shake; when she uses the safe word, George takes care of her.

Warnings: smut, anal, squirting, safe-word, swearing.

George’s hands gripped your hips and he would slap your arse cheek every now and then, hearing his moans and heavy breathing, you felt really bad for not enjoying this as much as him.

Anal was something the two of you had spoken about one or two times before, both of you didn’t really know what to expect but you wanted to try it and you knew George was incredibly eager to give it a go.

You were both incredibly nervous and you knew that George would be so sweet and understand if you decided you no longer wanted to go through with it, but you wanted to try, even if you ended up hating it.

The first few minutes were painful, the both of you had used plenty of lube but adjusting to George’s size took longer than you were expecting. Once the pain dissipated you told George he could penetrate you harder, deeper and faster.

“You feel so fucking good.” George moaned out, slamming against you.

The new sensation wasn’t getting any better, you weren’t enjoying yourself and you just wanted the whole ordeal to be over with, you just wanted to reach your fake orgasm and George could reach his real one so you could just call it a day.

You pretended to pant and fake moans escaped your lips, you were thankful that everyone was sleeping and you were facing away from George, you couldn’t look him in the eyes and lie to him. 

“You feel amazing George” you lied “fuck me harder.”

George slammed against you harder and faster and you could tell from his breathing that he was getting closer to cumming.

“cum for me Georgie” you begged, faking more moans. 

George spilled himself inside of you, out of breath and a hot sweaty mess, he pulled out and collapsed backwards on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

Feeling relieving this was finally over, you crawled next to George and cuddled up to him, he gave you a slightly odd look.

“Are you not out of breath?” he asked, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

“no” you shook your head and quickly thought of another lie “I could’ve gone for another round”

George smirked and wrapped his arm around you “after tonight, I’m happy to do it again love.”

With it being the last evening you and George were spending at the burrow before heading back home, you, Fleur, Hermione and Ginny were sat in Ginny’s old room, gossiping like you did all those years ago when you were students at Hogwarts. 

“What was all that noise coming from your room last night?” Hermione asked you.

You freezed for a moment but decided there was no harm in speaking the truth, it was only you four girls in the room and you knew word wouldn’t spread.

“Me and George were... trying something new.” You replied, feeling slightly embarrassed, taking a sip from your mug.

“Andz what iz this zomething new?” Fleur asked, searching your eyes and smirking.

You could feel yourself getting redder by the minute, they weren’t the type to shame you but you still found it embarrassing to talk about.

“Anal.”

Ginny grimaced and Fluer burst out laughing with Hermione.

“How was it then?” Ginny asked bravely.

Without knowing, Bill was listening in behind the door, hoping to get some ammo to fire into George after the last time they had been been together.

“Honestly” you sighed “I didn’t enjoy it at all.”

A large grin appeared on Bill’s face, he waited, hoping to hear more.

“But I could hear you... you know.” Hermione said quietly.

You gave her the good old ‘no shit Sherlock’ glance.

“It’s not that hard to fake it, is it? Being girls and all that.” You replied, feeling guilty.

“Whyz don’t youz tell him?” Fleur asked “so he can improve.”

“If he finds out he’ll never speak to me again!”

Bill had to clasp his hand around his mouth to stop himself from laughing, finally satisfied with his news, he went down to find George.

Bill went back into his room and sat on the bed with a huge grin on his face.

Charlie, George, Percy, Ron and Harry were all sat around the room speaking amongst themselves.

“What’s up with you?” Ron asked, searching to find answers within Bill’s expression.

“Go on tell us” Charlie begged, taking a sip of fire whiskey.

Bill shook his head “I don’t know...it’s quite embarrassing”

Percy shuffled in his seat wondering wether or not he should leave the room or stick around to hear the conversation.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad, Bill.” George tried to reassure him.

Bill grinned even more “you’ll have to tell me brother, it’s about you.”

The corner of George’s mouth curled upwards, he smirked at his older brother. “Go on then, bloody tell me.”

“Alright then, your girlfriend was talking about how she had to fake her moans lastnight you were that rubbish.”

Everyone burst out into laughter except George and Percy, Percy rolled his eyes and walked out of the bedroom.

George felt mortified and hadn’t felt more insecure in his whole life, you lying to him and faking it really made him feel shit and he didn’t know what else you had been faking.

Sliding across your apartment floor through the fire place, you picked yourself up off the floor and took off your coat, throwing it down on the sofa.

“Georgie, are you okay?” You asked your boyfriend, stroking his soft hair.

George looked into your eyes and you felt worried, he didn’t speak to you for most of the evening and everytime he looked at you his expression was painful to bare.

“Please talk to me” you begged, following him into the bedroom.

“My brother Bill found out that my girlfriend has been faking it when I pleasure her.” He replied in a sad and annoyed tone.

George walked over to the dresser and started to get undressed.

You felt your heart sink “George–“

“Is it true y/n?” He asked, staring at you.

You shook your head “George just let me explain.”

“So it’s true?” George scoffed.

“No I never faked it before, I only faked it last night.”

George sat on the bed and took off his shoes, socks and took off his trousers. You sat next to him and started to get yourself undressed ready for bed.

“Why would you fake it?” He asked “you said you were enjoying it, did I—“

You cupped George’s face and made him look you in the eyes. “You’ve done nothing wrong George, it isn’t you I promise.”

“So then why?” He asked, pulling down his boxers climbing into bed.

You unclipped your bra and pulled off your thong, joining George in your double bed.

“Because you were enjoying yourself so much and I didn’t want to ruin it, you were looking forward to the experience and I didn’t want to let you down.” You sighed, spooning George.

George paused and started to feel better about himself “you should’ve just told me, babe.”

He turned around the face you. “I only wanted to pleasure you”

“I’m sorry.” You replied, catching a mischievous glint in his eye.

“How about I make it up to you?” George’s hand rested on your thigh “make up for lastnight.”

Make up sex with George happened to be something you really enjoyed, and you wouldn’t dream of turning down such a beautiful way to spend the evening.

Pulling back the covers, you proper yourself up against the pillows. George placed soft, wet kisses on the insides of your thighs as he spread your legs open.

George sucked on his three fingers and spat on them, massaging the saliva across your folds and around your tight hole before pushing his fingers inside of you.

George’s other hand clamped over your abdomen, pressing down adding more pressure whilst he repeated the ‘come here’ motion inside of you.

Feeling him play you softly like an instrument made the butterflies in your stomach spread your wings, watching him eat your pussy and swirl his tongue around your clitoris made you feel on the edge of heaven.

Your back arched making George hold onto you even tighter to stop you from moving or breaking free, you cried out and bucked your hips.

“George—“

“That feel good baby?” George asked, pulling away for a moment before going back down on you to suck on your clit.

You nodded your head and kept staring down at your boyfriend, his hair a mess and your juices all over his soft lips.

George continued the motion faster and the noises coming from inside you made his dick incredibly hard, the pressure kept building and you could feel yourself have a sudden urge to urinate.

“George, I—“ you panicked.

George pulled away from eating your pussy once more, looking into your beautiful eyes.

“Don’t panic love, you’re going to squirt, don’t bottle it up - let it out.”

Doing as you were told, you relaxed and enjoyed the orgasm - George could feel your pussy clamp down around his fingers, George lifted up his head as you screamed out his name.

“George! Fuck! I’m cumming!”

A rush of liquid sqewed out from around his fingers, your legs shaking as you convulsed crazily.

Releasing the pressure that had built up from inside of you felt incredible, your head dropped back and your legs continued to rattle, your cries filling the room.

Not being able to handle the pleasure for much longer, you called out the safe word. George pulled his fingers back and sucked on the liquid that coated them.

Climbing in the bed next to you he held you in his arms and stroked your back, “are you okay?” He asked, checking your swollen pussy “I didn’t hurt you did I?”

You shook your head, catching your breath “no, it just felt so good that I couldn’t handle much more.”

George quickly grabbed his wand from his pocket, the towels from the bathroom came spinning into the bedroom.

George placed the towels down over the spillage “sorry I didn’t do this earlier” he apologised.

You blushed “it’s okay.”

George got you comfy in bed and stroked words and drawings of love over your abdomen, stroking your hair with his other hand and planting kisses on your neck.

“You’re amazing.” You whispered.

[ilovefandoms102]

Part 3-Where Loyalties Lie

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Potter!Reader

Summary: A forbidden romance is betrayed when the very dark wizard who is out to kill you is your lovers master...

Taglist:

@jeyramarie​​​ @drewswannabegirl​​ @teamnick​​ @jiaraendgame​​ @agirlwholovescoffee​​​ @outerbongs​​ @jaxxandcomet​​ @velyssaraptor​​ @baby-pogue​​ @they-write-once-in-a-blue-moon​​ @must-be-a-weasley-92​​ @kaitieskidmore1​​ @ma10427​​ @ifilwtmfc​​ @lasnaro​​ @justcallmesams​​ @judayyyw​​ @lonely-kermit​​ @gviosca​​ @iamaunicorn4704​​ @jellyfishbeansontoast​​ @fernweh-fangirl​​ @runway-to-my-aid​​ @eb15​​ @hurricane-abigail​​ @tangledinsparkles​​ @amanda-rotigliano​​ @hxfflxpxffs​​ @bannerbubble​​ @hybridfamily​​ @coldlilheart​​  @fandom-phaser​​ @sunwardsss​​ @http-cherries​​ @bibliophilewednesday​​ @evaporatedrosepetals​​ @thetomatosaucee​​ @tomatosauceagent​​ @redosmo​​ @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch​​ @susceptible-but-siriusexual​​ @kindahavefeelingskindaheartless​​ @obx-direction-sos​​ @they-reblog-once-in-a-blue-moon​​ @iraniq​​ @nekee-lilac02​​ @gracielou0518​​​ @aplaintart​​​ @wollymalfoy​ @thefandomplace​ @poguestyleskye​ @butterflydior​​ 

Part 2

Note: I’m so happy for the love and support you all have given me! Thank you for 500 new friends, I am grateful for each and every one of you! I can’t wait to put out more stuff for you guys! 

Would anyone like for me to continue the series for how Draco and y/n raise Scorpius and go through the trials of parenthood? Maybe even include their wedding and wedding night😛...let me know in the comments or message me!

================================

Draco pushed me into the main room, his family eyeing me now. I spotted Hermione on the ground, I went to move towards her. I was stopped by an unspeakable pain, a screech left my throat as I fell just feet from her.

“Crucio!” Bellatrix shouted, waving her wand at me again.

I convulsed on the floor, screaming as the pain shot from my head to my feet. I rolled to my side, heavily breathing. I scooted to Hermione, her hand barely mustering the energy to hold mine. 

“Since this filthy Mudblood won’t talk, perhaps you will Potter. Where did you get the sword?” she seethed.

“Even if I did know, I wouldn’t tell you!” I panted.

“Draco! Your wand at the ready, torture this disgusting Halfblood until she admits her faults.” Bellatrix commanded.

“She said she doesn’t know, maybe they’re telling the truth for once.” Draco answered, trying to hide his fear.

“Either you do it, or your father kills them.” Bellatrix hissed, Draco’s face going pale. 

They cleared to the other side of the room, leaving just Draco and I with Hermione limp on the floor. Tears started to leak from his eyes, my heart shattered. His hand shook that held his wand, bending his head to let out a sob.

“It’s ok, do what they say.” I spoke, Draco shaking his head.

“I can’t, I can’t do it.” he sobbed, fervently shaking his head.

“Draco please! It’s the only way we’re getting out of here!” I pleaded.

“What is the meaning of this Draco!? Do it!” Lucius boomed, Draco still sobbing.

“I can’t hurt the girl I love!” Draco shouted, his family gasping. 

“You cannot be serious!” Lucius shouted, Hermione’s grip on my hand tightened.

“Fine, if you cannot man up to the task...CRUCIO!” Bellatrix shouted, repeating the spell over and over.

Draco tried to come to my aid, but his father fought to hold him back. He cried as he watched me suffer one of the three Unforgivable Curses, shouting my name as I screamed in pain. I couldn’t even put into words what the pain felt like, an excruciating void of unending beats was the best way to put it. 

I tried to reach out for Draco as blood started to fall from my ears and mouth, him trying to do the same with the restriction of his father.

“Please Bella! Stop, please!” Draco yelled, falling to his knees as Lucius scrapped to get a hold of him. 

“That’s enough Bella,” Narcissa spoke, pulling on her sister’s arm.

“Consider yourself lucky you belong to the Dark Lord Potter. For your friend, I can’t say the same.” Bellatrix sighed.

There was a sudden commotion as Harry and Ron burst into the room, firing off spells. Draco pretended to drop one of ours, rolling it my way. I fired one at Lucius, knocking him several feet away. It was a struggle trying to get up, only to be snatched by Narcissa, my muscles too weak to fight back. Bellatrix held a knife to Hermione’s throat, Harry and Ron dropping their wands at her command. 

I looked at Draco, his eyes wide with worry. There was a squeaking sound from above us, looking to see Dobby unhinging the chandelier. It came crashing down, giving enough distraction for Hermione and I to break free. I launched myself at Harry, he held me close as we all huddled to apparate out. I took one last look at Draco, he mouthed those three little words. I mouthed them back, tears shining as we apparated away.

===============================

Harry was headed to the Ravenclaw common room to find the Grey Lady, while I tried to make the Room of Requirement pop up. Just when I was about to give up, I heard creaking behind me, turning to find the Room of Requirement. Harry appeared next to me, dragging me with him. 

We looked around the disastrous area for what felt like hours, clapping my hands over my ears when I heard the telling sound of the Horcrux’s. I whipped around to find Harry holding the tiara that belonged to the Helena. Just as I reached him, a voice I knew all too well sounded in the room.

“Well, well, well, look what we have here. What brings you two here?” Draco taunted, Crab and Goyle holding their wands at us as Draco did. 

“I could ask you the same,” Harry answered, tugging on my wrist so that I was behind him.

“You have something of mine,” Draco spat, eyeing me before looking back to my brother.

“Why didn’t you tell her? Bellatrix? You knew it was me, and you didn’t say anything.” Harry asked, tilting his head.

“I would never hurt her,” Draco whispered, the other two Slytherin’s giving him a confused look.

“If you truly loved her-” Harry hissed, now my turn to grab his arm to pull him back.

“Harry!” I exclaimed as they all held their wands higher, at the ready to fire at us.

“Don’t be a prat Draco, do it!” Goyle seethed, Draco gulped before moving his eyes to meet mine.

In a split second, I whipped my wand out. Firing at Draco, disarming him. He turned and ran as his friends continued their assault, Hermione coming to aid. I shouted for Draco, watching as Ron ran after the Slytherin’s. 

After some digging, Harry and Hermione plopped back to the ground. Ron came out of nowhere, snatching Hermione’s hand as he claimed that Goyle set the place on fire. Indeed he did as a giant fire in the shape of a snake came bounding after us. 

I grabbed Harry’s hand as we weaved through the stacks of rubbish, not finding a way out. I whipped my head in search of Draco, wondering if he made it out alive. My chest burned from the fire, and the thought of the love of my life being dead in the very same room. 

We bumped into some brooms, taking off to find the exit. I looked all over for Draco, not spotting him. Harry then caught my attention, whisking around to go back from where we just were. I sobbed in relief when I saw Draco, his eyes lighting up when he caught sight of me. I grabbed his arm, tugging him so he could jump on the back of the broom. He held tightly to my waist, his lips moving to kiss my cheek. 

The blast from the fire knocked us off the broom once we reached outside of the Room of Requirement, Draco kissed me before taking off. Harry stabbed the tiara with the Basilisk fang, knocking both of us back. 

==================================

My heart crumbled after Harry and I took Snape’s tears to watch his memories. Not only did both of us have to die to completely destroy Voldemort, but that we might not come back. I thought of Draco, that we would never get married, have children, and grow old together. Neither would Harry, but this had to be done. 

We found Hermione and Ron at the bottom of the stairs just in front of the castle. huddled together. They stood once they saw us, knowing what Harry and I were about to do. Hermione crushed Harry into a hug, Ron leaning down to hug me tight. 

“We all had a feeling this is how it would have to end, no one just wanted to accept it.” I spoke, pulling back to smile sadly at Ron.

“After us, it’s just the snake. Kill it, and you’ll kill him.” Harry said.

Hermione tugged me to her, crying into my shoulder. I rubbed her back, sniffling to hold in my tears. Once I pulled back, I took Harry’s hand as we made our way to the Forbidden Forest. Harry found the Resurrection Stone in the snitch, holding my hand tightly. We looked around to see our parents, Remus, and Sirius. Our mother held her hand out, I instantly went to her. My hand went through her’s, my heart clenching when I couldn’t feel her.

“You’ve been so brave my babies.” she spoke, her voice melodic as it rang in my ears. How I wished I could have heard her voice my whole life.

“You’re nearly there,” our father said, his features resembling Harry so much they almost looked like the same person. 

“Does it hurt? To die?” Harry asked Sirius, my eyes leaving my mother’s to look at my Godfather.

“Quicker than falling asleep.” Sirius quipped, a small smile gracing his lips.

“I wish more than ever that none of you had to die, not like this.” I croaked, Harry nodding in agreement.

“I never wanted any of you to die for me,” Harry spoke, looking around at our lost loved ones. 

“Remus, Teddy he-” I started.

“Others will tell him what his parents died for, and one day, he’ll understand.” Remus smiled, his eyes looking between Harry and I. 

“You’ll be with us?” I asked.

“Until the very end.” our father answered.

“Stay close to us.” Harry said, grabbing my hand again.

“Always,” our mother replied, my eyes tearing up as they disappeared. 

===========================

Voldemort had been defeated, finally freeing Harry and I from our life long torture. No more looking over our shoulders constantly, no more people that we loved would have to die for us. I could be with Draco...if I ever saw him again. He fled with his parents after Harry and I revealed to everyone that we were in fact still alive. 

“We did it,” I gasped, laughing as Harry and I embraced one another.

Harry, Ron, Hermione and I were walking across the bridge that separated the castle from the outside world, mindlessly kicking the cement that littered from the battle. 

“So what will you do with the most powerful wand in the world Harry?” I asked my brother, turning to face him.

I watched in horror as he broke the wand, throwing the pieces over the edge. He did the right thing though...

“Y/n...” Hermione mumbled, pointing at something behind us.

I turned around hesitantly, my heart soaring at the sight in front of me. Draco stood at the other end of the bridge, once he saw me turn he began walking. I took off in a sprint, tears rolling down my cheeks. He jogged the rest of the way, meeting me in the middle as I crashed into his arms. He spun me around, both of us laughing joyously. I pulled back to look into his eyes, a second later his lips were on mine. 

Draco held tight with his arms around my lower back, my feet still off the ground. I licked my way into his mouth, challenging his tongue into a dance of passion. I moved one hand to fist it in his hair, tugging it slightly to hear him moan into my mouth. He sat me down gently, pulling away to lean his forehead to mine.

“You came back,” I sniffled, intertwining our hands.

“I’ll always come back for you my love,” he whispered.

“I love you Draco,” I smiled.

“I love you more y/n,” he sighed, pulling me into his embrace once more.

[fanficsandthings]

Through the Years

A George Weasley Fanfiction 

A George Weasley x Slytherin reader story. Each chapter shares events in one year of George and reader's life together, starting in their first year of Hogwarts.

Word Count: 3.8k

Chapter 1: The Journey to Hogwarts

It had been a warm, sunny day when you heard an owl screech outside. You watched from the window as it swooped in by your front door, carrying a small letter in its talons. The brown tawny owl sat on the sidewalk for just a second before it hurried away again. You watched it disappear into the distant blue sky. As you walked to the front door you could see that your father was clutching the letter to his chest. It took him a good five minutes of staring at it before he handed it to you. It was your Hogwarts letter. You had been waiting all year to receive it, and your father was overjoyed now that you had. 

You weren’t exactly sure why he was so happy, but you caught him almost sobbing into your mother’s shoulder later that night when they thought you had gone to sleep. You thought for a moment that he was mad about your letter, but after you listened to them speak for a minute you realized that they were happy tears. You had grown up around magic your whole life. Your uncle and your grandparents were all brilliant wizards. Your mother was a muggle, sure, but that didn’t make you think that you wouldn’t get into Hogwarts. You didn’t show any magical ability until you were almost 10, but that fact never really crossed your mind growing up. You had gotten mad at your father one day, for something you couldn’t even remember now, but you were 9, and all that childlike anger boiled up inside you. It burned hotter and hotter until your face was burning red, and then the teacup that your father had on his side table exploded, sending scalding hot liquid onto the carpet and armchair. You expected him to be mad with you, furious even, but instead he had calmly asked if you caused that to happen. You said yes and then tried to quickly explain how you didn’t mean it, but you were cut off. You were being enveloped in a crushing hug and your dad picking you up and spinning and laughing. Laughing? Why was he laughing? You had just ruined his favorite teacup and spilled tea all over the floor. He set you down and took you by the shoulders. “I’m so proud of you.” You looked over at the mess you created, and he waved it off. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll clean it up. You’ve got magic!” He stood up and quickly ran into the next room, searching for your mother. You could hear him laughing down the hallway. “She’s a witch! I can’t believe she’s actually a witch!” Just over a year later, when your letter came, he was as overjoyed as he was the day with the tea. The next day you set out to London to buy all of your supplies. Your mother had stayed at home, but you and your father met up with your uncle in Diagon Alley. He and your father both worked at the Ministry together. He worked in the Department of International Magical Cooperation, while your father worked in close contact with the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office. He worked mainly in Muggle Studies, helping the Ministry to learn more about the average muggle. You were told once that it was one of the lowest jobs you could get at the Ministry, but your father seemed to enjoy it. It was how he had met your mother after all. You learned then to do your own research on matters, instead of just taking other people’s opinions as your own.   Once you had gotten all your supplies from Diagon Alley, you separated from your uncle to head back out into London. You were admiring your new wand, and the fine intricacies on it, when your father stopped to say hello to someone. The man he stopped was an odd looking fellow, with bright red hair sticking up from the top of his head. His clothed screamed pure-blood wizard to you, as they matched almost perfectly with what your grandparents wore; an old robe and a handmade vest. Your father introduced you to the man in front of him as Arthur Weasley, a coworker of his. You waved at him shyly before going back to studying your wand; you wanted to know every fine detail of it. You looked it up and down, from end to tip, ran your fingers over the wood to feel the texture of it. You were about to put it up to your mouth to see what it tasted like when another shock of red hair appeared in your peripheral vision. You looked up, tongue hanging slightly out of your mouth, wand inches from it. Two boys had appeared at Arthur’s side. They looked exactly the same and you had to blink a couple times to make sure you weren’t seeing double. Arthur apparently had twin sons. They were both wearing sweaters that looked almost similar to the ones your grandmother made you, but theirs had letters on them in bright gold yarn. An “F” and a “G.” “These are my boys, Fred and George,” Arthur introduced them. “Well, two of my boys. The others stayed at home for this trip. The twins are enough to handle by myself.” They both turned to look at you. You quickly brought your tongue back into your mouth and dropped your wand to the side. Before they could get a word out to you, their father said goodbye to yours and grabbed them both by their sweaters to push them past you. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” your dad called as Arthur walked away. He turned to you. “Those boys are in the same year as you. Maybe you’ll end up in the same house and can become friends.” You turned to look at the way they went. You could hardly see through the crowd and were just barely able to spot the redheaded father. Only one of the twins appeared to be with Arthur, and for a second you were concerned that the other had gotten lost in the crowd. Suddenly, a face appeared in front of yours. “Fred tied your shoelaces together while you were staring at your wand,” was all he said before he ducked back into the crowd. He headed back towards his father, who was now searching for him, calling out his name. It seemed that George was the nicer of the two twins. You looked down at your feet, and sure enough, they were tied together. One step and you would’ve been face first into the cobblestone. Why the one felt it necessary to come all the way back here just to tell you his brother was a bit of a jerk, you weren’t sure, but you appreciated it. Maybe you could be friends with at least George. Fred, you weren’t so sure about. You looked up at your father to see if he had anything to say, but he was staring at a map of London he had taken out of his pocket. He hadn’t seemed to notice the boy come back at all. ------------------------- September 1st, 1989 snuck up on you faster than you had ever expected it. You spent the last few days of your summer holiday with your muggle friends, as you knew you wouldn’t see them again until at least Christmas. It was hard to say goodbye to them, but at the same time you couldn’t be more excited to make friends who were actually magical like you were. Your father had an emergency at work, so it was your uncle who took you to King’s Cross that day in London. The station was busy and full of Muggles, but it was easy for him to find the correct platform, as he had been there multiple times before. You stopped for a moment to watch a few families make their way through the wall and onto the platform. Still a little bit nervous about using magic to this caliber, you had to be encouraged by your uncle to go through the wall. He took your trolley from you and stood you perfectly center facing the brick. “It’s really quite simple,” he said, bending down to your level. He pointed at the stones in front of you. “Just run straight at it. It won’t hurt you. I’ll take care of your luggage.” You nodded your head and took in a deep breath. Letting out the breath, you started with a jog, picking up the pace as you neared the wall. Your eyes closed when you were within inches of the wall, preparing for the impact. When no impact came, you opened your eyes to see the steam engine in front of you. Your feet stopped moving immediately. You turned around, a big smile on your face, to see your uncle enter behind you. “Welcome to the Hogwarts Express.” He bent down in front of you again to be at your eye level. “Remember, your father is very proud of you. He’s absolutely gutted that he can’t be here, but he wanted me to give you this.” He reached into the bag he was carrying and pulled out a disposable camera. One like what your mother would use when you went on holiday. “He wants you to use this to create memories and to remember the important ones. You can get it developed when you come home for Christmas.” You nodded at him in understanding. “Now, most of the pure-blood students probably won’t know what this is, so don’t let them get you down for using Muggle technology.” “There’s nothing wrong with Muggle technology,” you told him, matter of factly. “Some of it’s even cooler than magic.” He chuckled slightly at that. “I know, I know. But some wizards think everything made by Muggles is rubbish. Just ignore them.” “Or I could show them how cool it really is,” you said, reaching out for the camera. “Yeah, or you could do that.” He stood up in front of you. “Before I give this to you, I need a picture. Smile.” You stood in front of the train engine with the goofiest of grins on your face. Your uncle snapped the picture quickly and then handed you the camera. “Remember there’s only 26 pictures left on that,” he quickly informed you. “If you make a friend who has an owl, you can always write your mum to send you another one if you run out.” “Will do. Thank you.” You reached towards him and gave him a quick, tight hug. The clock on the wall behind him read 10:55. “I gotta go! Thank you again!” You ran off towards the train as he shouted his goodbye back at you. -------------------------- Finding a compartment to sit in was relatively hard, as they were mostly filled with upperclassmen. Towards the back of the train you eventually found a compartment with two familiar boys in it. They sat on opposite seats near the window, tossing something between the two of them. You knocked on the glass as you slid the door open. “Do you mind if I sit here?” “You sure about that?” one of them asked. “Percy didn’t warn you about us?” “I don’t know who this Percy is,” you told them, stepping into the compartment. “Why would he be warning people about you.” You sat down next to the twin who had on a blue sweater. The other one was wearing brown. “Percy’s our older brother. A third year,” Blue Sweater told you. “He’s been telling people that we’ll prank them if they share a compartment with us,” Brown Sweater said. They continued to toss the small object between the two of them. “Well one of you has already tried to prank me,” you said, looking between the two of them. “But the other one told me about it. So I know I can trust at least one of you.” Brown Sweater stopped suddenly, the small object in his hand. “You told her!?” He tossed the object at his brother, who threw his hands over his face in defense. The object bounced off his forearm, and you caught it as it headed your way. It seemed to be just a small rubber ball. The one who you now assumed was Fred continued yelling at his brother. “It’s not much of a prank if you tell them about it before it happens! I don’t know how I can even call you my brother anymore.” He folded his arms and pouted as he looked out the window at the passing hills. “Fred, stop being so dramatic,” George said. “She was a stranger. And our dads work together.” “You’re lying,” Fred said, now looking at George. “You told her because you think she’s cute.” Now both you and George froze. You could feel the tips of your ears burning hot. You squeezed the ball tightly in your hand as a sort of distraction from this conversation. George mumbled out some sort of defense, but you didn’t hear it. You were too focused on your hand, which now held some sort of slimy black goo. The ball had dissolved when you squeezed it hard enough. “You tricky little gremlins,” you mumbled, caused them to stop their bickering to look at you. “No wonder no one wanted to sit with you.” You stood up, the goo dripped off your hand and onto the carpet. You reached for the door with your good hand. “Hey, we didn’t mean to get you with that, we’re sorry,” George said. You could hear the sincerity in his voice. “Yeah, you’re the one who caught the ball,” Fred said. You turned around and held your black covered hand out towards Fred. “Catch this,” you said, pushing your hand quickly into his face. You let out a wave of laughter as you pulled your hand away and looked at Fred’s face. The goo had gotten into his hair and matted his eyebrows and smeared down the side of his face. George let out a snort as he got a look at his brother. “Good one,” he said, holding up his hand for a high five. You grinned as you slapped your hand against his, sending goo spraying against the train window. “Didn’t think that one through, did you.” “No, no I didn't,” George said, wiping his hand on the seat he was sitting on. You both looked over at Fred, who was still trying to get the goo off of his face, also wiping the contents on his seat. “You okay there, Freddie?” George asked his brother. Fred looked up at him and then over at you. “Yeah, just thinking of a way to get even is all.” “Good luck with that,” you said, reaching for your camera. The twins looked at you curiously. You snapped a picture of Fred’s face, still covered in goo. “What’re you doing?” Fred asked. “Blackmail,” you simply explained, stuffing the camera back in your bag. ---------------------- “Five other siblings?!” you questioned, quite exhausted from the thought of that large a family. “I couldn’t even imagine.” “Yes, unfortunately,” Fred said. “You’re sure to meet Percy and Charlie soon. They’re third and sixth years. Both Gryffindors. Our whole family has been Gryffindors, actually.” “I suppose that means you two are hoping to get the same,” you mused at them. They both laughed. “Not so much as hoping,” George said. “We’re more expecting. Family tradition and all.” “But it’s gonna be awfully dreadful if we get stuck in the same house as Percy for five years,” Fred added. You laughed at that. The twins really had an odd way of viewing their brother. “What about you?” George asked, lightly elbowing you in the arm. “Hhmmm? What about me?” you asked, looking up at him. “Siblings? Family house traditions?” George pressed further. “Oh no. None of that. I’m an only child,” you told them. “Grandparents were both Hufflepuffs and my uncle was a Ravenclaw.” “And your parents?” Fred asked. “My mother is actually a Muggle,” you informed them. “And my dad didn’t go to Hogwarts.” They both seemed taken aback by that statement. “Didn’t go to Hogwarts?” George asked. “Did his parents ship him off to a different country?” Fred added. “No,” you simply stated. “He went to a Muggle school. He doesn’t have magic.” “No way!” they both said, basically shouting at you. You were slightly shocked by their sudden change in attitude. “Your dad is a squib?” Fred questioned you. You looked between the two of them, severely confused at this point. “I’ve never heard that word before.” “A squib is a person who doesn’t have magical powers, but their parents do. Basically the opposite of a Muggle-born wizard,” Fred explained to you. “They’re very rare,” George continued. “The caretaker at Hogwarts is actually a squib. He’s the only we’ve ever heard of before.” You thought over this new information for a moment. “I guess it’s true that he was born to a pure-blood family, but I always thought it was normal for some wizards’ children to not have magic. Just like, as you said, some Muggle’s randomly have children with magic.” “That logic does make sense when you look at it that way,” George said. It was silent for a moment before Fred asked another question. “How did your dad get a job at the Ministry if he doesn’t have magic?” “Working in muggle studies, you don’t need much magic,” you explained to them. “Plus my uncle also works for the Ministry, and he put in a good word for him.” You sat in silence for another couple minutes. You weren’t quite sure what to say anymore after that conversation. It was getting late and you were to be at Hogwarts within the hour. “Hey,” George said next to you. “Yeah?” you asked him. “If I were you, I’d be careful with who you share that information about your father with,” he said. “Because some pure-bloods think everything made by Muggles is rubbish?” you asked, finishing his thoughts for him. “Well I wouldn’t put it that way,” he said. He mulled over his thoughts for a second. When he spoke again, it was soft, like he didn’t really want to say what he was saying. “But yeah. Some pure-bloods think they’re above everyone who is of mixed blood or Muggle-born. With your blood status, I don’t even know what they’d think.” “What about your family?” you asked, looking between the two of them. Suddenly you were very worried that you were telling your whole life story to two boys who were basically strangers. “What?” Fred asked. “You’re pure-bloods,” you said to them. “But your dad reminded me very much of my pure-blood grandparents. And my grandparents would never think like that.” “Neither would we,” Fred said, his brown eyes lacking any hint of mischievousness for the first time since you met him. “Our family doesn’t have much,” George said, “so we know what it’s like to be looked down on by other pure-bloods.” You let out a sigh and looked out the window at the darkening sky. The stars would be out soon, and they were sure to look pretty glittering over the lake by the castle. “I’m sorry that I accused you of that,” you said, tearing your eyes away from the window to look first at George, who quickly darted his eyes away from yours, then at Fred, who held your eye contact. “No worries,” Fred replied. “How about I make it up to you by showing you this,” you said, rummaging around in your bag. You pulled out the camera. “This is a disposable camera. It just takes pictures. Not any of the magical moving pictures, but pictures nonetheless. My dad wanted me to have it to capture memories.” “What kind of memories?” George asked, looking at you again. “Happy ones, I suppose,” you told them. “But also sad ones. One’s that make me feel like I want to remember the moment, no matter what. And you know what? I’d like to remember my first train ride forever. Would you two mind taking a picture with me?” The twins looked at each other and then back to you. “I don’t see why not,” they both said. You looked out into the corridor of the train and spotted a student who looked to be a year or two older than you. You got her to take a picture for you and thanked her as she walked away. “Do we get to see the picture?” George asked expectantly. “Not until I get them developed over Christmas holiday,” you informed them. “That’s months away!” they both exclaimed, falling back into their seats. Even though you had been apprehensive of Fred to begin with, you were quickly growing to like both of the twins. Looking over at Fred, he still had bits of black goo stuck in his hair. You were sure it would take a couple showers to fully wash out. Sitting back down next to George, you sat a little too close to him, your shoulders brushing as you tried to get comfortable. Quickly, you moved a couple more inches away, having remembered the comment Fred had made earlier. You could feel your ears burning hot again, and glancing at George out of the corner of your eye, you were positive that his ears were red too. ------------------------ The twins were right about their family tradition, as the sorting hat was barely on their heads before it sorted them both into Gryffindor. An older redheaded boy was cheering excitedly as they sat down at the table next to him and another redhead. As you walked up to stand in front of everyone to be sorted, you could feel your heart racing. You weren’t nervous; it didn’t matter where you were sorted, as you had no ill feelings towards any house. The scary part was the uncertainty of the future that awaited you. If you got sorted into Gryffindor, you were sure to remain friends with the twins. If it was any other house, you weren’t sure. The thought of maybe losing the first two friends you had made here was what scared you the most. You cautiously sat down on the stool, your eyes turning to the sea of students in front of you. You found Fred and George in the crowd, and they both gave you thumbs ups. Smiling back at them, you let out a deep breath. The hat was placed on your head, and you could hear it contemplating for a few seconds. “I know exactly where you should go,” it said. “Already?” you asked, looking up at the brim. “Yes, I’m quite certain,” it said. You sat in silence for another few seconds before it shouted out “Slytherin!”

[ptergwen]

last christmas | pt. 2

❆ series masterlist ❆

w/c: 2.5k

warnings: one suggestive joke and a couple of angsty moments

a/n: yo i forgot that harry was actually in this movie as an extra? that’s kinda funny to me but anyways pls send requests (ik it’s annoying i keep asking i’m just so bored y’all help) and enjoyyy

━━━ *:･。.

today feels better than most days. the throbbing headache you usually wake up with isn’t there. plus, you have your date with tom later. it still feels surreal to say that. it still feels surreal he’s your friend’s brother, and you only found out three days ago.

you throw on some sweats and head into the living room. your roommate alex is in front of the tv with a bowl of cereal. she puts it down, the spoon making an obnoxiously loud clink. you’re sensitive to sound, so you unintentionally wince.

“sorry, y/n/n. i thought you had the day off, no?” she asks, lowering the tv for your sake. you smile at the gesture and go to grab your coat. “i do. i just wanna get breakfast.” “we have stuff here,” alex reminds you and picks up her cereal for emphasis. she’s careful not to drop the spoon this time. laughing to yourself, you shrug into your coat.

“i’ll pass. i wanted to say hi to harry, anyway.” “right, tonight’s the night.” she turns her head towards you and smirks. “you’re shagging his brother.” your eyes go comically wide. “no i’m not! he’s taking me out somewhere,” you defend and button up your coat as fast as you can. it’s time to get out of here.

“i’ll make plans just in case,” alex calls out as you shuffle to the door. “yeah, bye!” you shout back. you planned on asking if she wanted anything, but you were too distracted. oh well.

━ ❆

the café isn’t too crowded when you get there. harry is on register, so he’s probably in a good mood. he eyes you curiously when you step up. you give him a big smile.

“you’re not in today,” he says quietly, pushing up the santa hat he’s wearing. you stifle a laugh. you’re all supposed to dress up festively, but you don’t. your manager made an exception. one of your co workers is watching harry, so he fixes the hat. it’s not done without a long exhale.

“i’m here for coffee,” you explain and glance up at the menu. harry squints at you. “you couldn’t have gone anywhere else?” feigning offense, you put your hand on your chest. “why, you don’t want to see me?” “when you’re supposed to be home resting, no.” he taps a button on the register. “what can i get you?”

“first of all, i have a date later. that won’t be happening,” you tell him smugly. he would try to act annoyed, but he’s honestly happy for you. tom, too. “can i have an iced coffee with liquid sweetener? please?” harry raises an eyebrow. “room for milk?” “sure,” you almost chirp. he can’t help but grin.

“i haven’t seen you this happy the whole time i’ve known you,” he mumbles while punching in your order. your smile fades into a concerned grimace. “is that okay, do you think?” harry looks up at you again. “why wouldn’t it be?” “because, i mean, it’s only one date. it could end up going no where.”

you lean over the counter so you can talk quieter. “what would i be happy about then?” “excuse me?” a woman interrupts your conversation louder than necessary. you’re trying to search harry’s face for an answer, but he doesn’t give you one. “one second, sorry,” he apologizes to the customer. you stand up right again.

“tom wouldn’t do all this if he didn’t feel something,” harry nearly whispers while you get out your money. you read your total befofe he could tell you. you let your hand linger in his when you hand him the cash. “you’ll have more than one night of happiness. you deserve it.”

you’re starting to get a bit emotional, so you pull your hand back. you nod and manage a small smile. “thank you, harry. really.” “you’ll let me know how it goes?” he checks. “tomorrow, yeah. have a good shift.” you give him a finger wave and go off to get your coffee. he waves back.

━ ❆

tom gets a text from harry a few minutes after you leave.

y/n is really special. don’t be a div tonight.

he scoffs at his phone and shuts it off. your smile pops into his mind then. he only got to see it once, but he can’t seem to forget it.

harry is right. you are really special, and he better not mess this up.

━ ❆

you and tom decided on eight for your date. he’s meeting you outside your place because wherever you’re going is in walking distance. you bundle up accordingly in your fluffiest jacket and some earmuffs. you’ve never worn them before, but they’ll be your best friend tonight. they’re also cute. this is the time to be cute.

tom buzzes to let you know he’s there at eight sharp. his punctuality is kind of a surprise. you don’t know much about the real him, but this is rare from what you’ve gathered. you tell him you’re coming and hop out the door.

the thing alex said earlier does cross your mind, and she did leave you the apartment. never mind all of that. you try to think of anything but that before you get outside.

“hey,” tom greets as you walk down the stairs. he grins playfully at your attire. “you look cozy.” “you don’t.” he’s wearing a thin black jacket with a flannel underneath. it’s not ideal for the middle of winter in london. a smug smile pulls at your lips.

“you’re gonna walk in that?” you gesture to his outfit, moving so you’re next to him. he hums. “i’ll let you tease me for it the whole way there.” the two of you start walking side by side. it doesn’t take long for you to fall into step. “the whole way? how far is it?” you raise an eyebrow.

“twenty minutes maybe? it can’t be too bad. we have loads to talk about,” tom says rather suggestively. you look over and he’s smirking. there’s never a dull moment with this man. that’s actually just what you need right now. “true. you start,” you prompt him, your arm brushing against his. “tell me all about you.” he leans closer to you instinctively.

“well, i’m an actor. obviously,” tom shrugs like it’s no big deal, making you laugh quietly. he really likes your laugh. “besides that. like, what do you do when you’re not acting?” you ask, eyes fixed on him. he’s so pretty under the streetlights. all the time, really. “this is so boring, but i love golf. i’m rubbish, though,” he says the second part under his breath.

“and i thought you were good at everything,” you tease, tom faking a frown. “no, but seriously. it’s probably nice to do some regular stuff when you can.” he exhales in a way that seems reflective. “exactly, i like having some separation. what about you?” “what do i do when i’m not acting?” you ask sarcastically. “sure,” he plays along.

you think about it while you turn the corner. tom watches you intently, like you’re about to say something actually interesting. you’re not. “not much anymore.” he’s about to ask what you mean by anymore, but you keep going. “i took a gap year from uni, so i’ve been getting that sorted,” you continue, looking up at the dark sky. this isn’t your favorite discussion.

“makes sense. what are you studying?” also not your favorite discussion. “i’m undecided. i was thinking about psychology, but...” you search for something, anything you can to change the subject. the first thing you see is the first thing you mention. “your ears are bright red right now,” you giggle and point at one. tom presses his hands to them, feeling how cold they are.

“damn, you’re right,” he gives in to your conversation from earlier. without thinking about it, you pull your earmuffs off. you put them around his head instead. they’re pink with white snowflakes on them. tom looks cuter with them than you do, you think. “here. these should make them a normal color.”

“aw, but i don’t want you to be cold,” he protests and goes to take them off. you grab his hand before he can. “i’m not.” grinning, he properly takes your hand in his. your fingers lace together like you’ve held hands a million times. he lets them drop between you two and keeps leading the way to your mystery spot.

you swing your hands back and forth, smiling when you feel his grip tighten. tom pats one of the earmuffs. “i think we’ll both be warm once we get there.” “where exactly is ‘there’?” you laugh out. it was supposed to be a surprise, but you have to know. he points at something straight ahead. you’re still too far to see it.

“yeah, i can’t tell what that is,” you confirm. his reply is a satisfied hum. “good. let me keep you in suspense for at least five more minutes.” “you’re cheeky, aren’t you?” he chuckles and swings your hands again. “i’ve been told.”

you two finally end up at a hot chocolate stand. there are white lights strung in the trees surrounding it, music playing quietly into the night. the atmosphere welcomes and comforts you as soon as you get on line.

“i figured it would be nice to get one of these rather than making them for a change,” tom fills you in. he seems unsure of it now that you’re here, his voice lower than before. harry’s text is replaying in his head. he wants this to be good enough, more than good enough. should he have planned something more? his nerves die down when you squeeze his hand in yours.

this is the perfect low pressure date you’d hoped for. the focus is on each other and not some fancy meal. you were right about the movies not changing tom. “this place is really cute. i like it.” you move up on line together. “and my hot chocolates kind of suck, so yeah. it is.” “no, i bet they’re delicious,” he reassures you with one of his famous eye crinkling grins.

you chat more about your barista skills and all the kitchen disasters harry has had to save you from. the story of the time you made foam explode all over the countertops has him giggling. his laugh is contagious, so you end up joining in. your laughter eventually quiets because it’s your turn to order.

“hi, we’ll have two large hot chocolates?” tom orders for you two. you shoot him a curious look. “large? i’ll never finish.” the sizes here are huge, which is part of their gimmick. it’s also why tom found it interesting. the joke is that the stand itself is small, but they have gigantic drinks.

“leftovers, then.” he winks at you. you’re disappointed you have to let his hand go while he pays. the cashier says your drinks will be ready shortly. tom thanks him and turns back to you. “you probably got in so much trouble, huh?” he asks about your work horror story. you look him over for a few seconds.

you’re shocked how genuinely interested he is in everything you tell him. there are much cooler things he could be talking about, but he wants to hear from you. it makes you feel like there’s something between you two already. like, you’re old friends or soulmates or anything bigger than two strangers on a first date.

even though it’s still early to tell, you definitely have a connection of some kind.

“nope. i’m better at cleaning than i am at making cappuccinos,” you remark, the cashier coming back with two large hot chocolates. tom hands you yours first. he takes his after. “thank you so much,” he tells the man again. “have a nice night,” you add. the two of you take your drinks to a small table under a tree.

you sit across from each other, tom setting the earmuffs down. he pushes them back to you with a smile playing on his lips. “i like those better on you,” you murmur before taking a sip of hot chocolate. “pink’s my color,” he agrees and does the same. it’s so good that you decide to have some more, even though there’s steam coming from the lid.

“maybe i will finish all of this.” “i knew you’d like it.” tom laughs behind his cup. he got all worked up about it for nothing. you’re having one of your best nights in a while, which almost makes you not want to bring up the next topic. it’s sadly inevitable, so you might as well get it out of the way. christmas.

“so, do you have any plans for christmas?” you start, downing another sip. tom puts his drink down and leans back in the chair. “i’m staying over my mum and dad’s. we’ll have our traditional holland celebration.” he smiles to himself just thinking about it. you’re happy he has something to look forward to. you don’t.

“are you doing anything?” there’s the big question. people usually get awkward when you go into detail, which is exactly why you won’t. “actually, no.” his excitement changes to confusion. he furrows his eyebrows and sits up again. “you don’t celebrate?” “i do, just not anymore. not this year, at least.”

tom is extremely curious what this ‘anymore’ is about. it’s the second time you’ve mentioned it.

“i used to love it. my christmas spirit ran out, i guess,” you eleborate, eyes shifting down to the frozen grass. tom almost frowns. it’s not because he pities you. no one likes that. christmas is one of, if not, his favorite times of year. he just wishes the whole world could be happy this holiday season. the lovely girl sitting in front of him, especially.

there has to be something he can do.

“no, you can always get it back,” he says softly, searching for your eyes. “i’ll help you.” you look up at him again and blink back the tears you feel coming. tom must feel so lost right now. he wouldn’t be with context. you’re going to tell him what happened when you’re ready because you do want him to understand. trusting him feels like an instinct.

“how?” your voice comes out even quieter than his. you pick up your drink to distract yourself. “let’s see,” tom thinks aloud. he snaps when he gets an idea. “have you done any decorating?” “my roommate put up a tree. she never did the ornaments, though.” he gasps over dramatically, earning a laugh from you.

“you can’t leave a naked tree sitting around.” “i told her it looked stupid,” you sigh and sip your hot chocolate. tom holds out a hand for you. “we should go to the shops”

it would be easy to say no. it would be easy to go back home and hide under your covers and avoid the missed calls from your family. the catch is, easy isn’t progress. you can’t move past this unless you work to get it done.

you take tom’s hand and stand up from the table.

“we should also get a ride this time.”

[themousefromfantasyland]

Prince Lindworm

A Lindworm is a snake creature from swedish folklore. A wingless, serpentine creature, with dragon's head, scaled skin and two clawed forelimbs. This darker swedish variation of Beauty and the Beast caught my attention because it remind me of a version of Bluebeard that I read as a child. This makes me think these tales are connected somehow

Once upon a time, there was a fine young King who was married to the loveliest of Queens. They were exceedingly happy, all but for one thing—they had no children. And this often made them both sad, because the Queen wanted a dear little child to play with, and the King wanted an heir to the kingdom.

One day the Queen went out for a walk by herself, and she met an ugly old woman. The old woman was just like a witch: but she was a nice kind of witch, not the cantankerous sort.

She said, “Why do you look so doleful, pretty lady?”

“It’s no use my telling you,” answered the Queen, “nobody in the world can help me.”

“Oh, you never know,” said the old woman.

“Just you let me hear what your trouble is, and maybe I can put things right.”

“My dear woman, how can you?” said the Queen: and she told her, “The King and I have no children: that’s why I am so distressed.”

“Well, you needn’t be,” said the old witch. “I can set that right in a twinkling, if only you will do exactly as I tell you. Listen. To-night, at sunset, take a little drinking-cup with two ears” (that is, handles), “and put it bottom upwards on the ground in the north-west corner of your garden. Then go and lift it up to-morrow morning at sunrise, and you will find two roses underneath it, one red and one white. If you eat the red rose, a little boy will be born to you: if you eat the white rose, a little girl will be sent. But, whatever you do, you mustn’t eat both the roses, or you’ll be sorry,—that I warn you! Only one: remember that!”

“Thank you a thousand times,” said the Queen, “this is good news indeed!” And she wanted to give the old woman her gold ring; but the old woman wouldn’t take it.

So the Queen went home and did as she had been told: and next morning at sunrise she stole out into the garden and lifted up the little drinking-cup. She was surprised, for indeed she had hardly expected to see anything. But there were the two roses underneath it, one red and one white. And now she was dreadfully puzzled, for she did not know which to choose.

“If I choose the red one,” she thought, “and I have a little boy, he may grow up and go to the wars and get killed. But if I choose the white one, and have a little girl, she will stay at home awhile with us, but later on she will get married and go away and leave us. So, whichever it is, we may be left with no child after all.”

However, at last she decided on the white rose, and she ate it. And it tasted so sweet, that she took and ate the red one too: without ever remembering the old woman’s solemn warning.

Some time after this, the King went away to the wars: and while he was still away, the Queen became the mother of twins. One was a lovely baby-boy, and the other was a Lindworm, or Serpent. She was terribly frightened when she saw the Lindworm, but he wriggled away out of the room, and nobody seemed to have seen him but herself: so that she thought it must have been a dream. The baby Prince was so beautiful and so healthy, the Queen was full of joy: and likewise, as you may suppose, was the King when he came home and found his son and heir. Not a word was said by anyone about the Lindworm: only the Queen thought about it now and then.

Many days and years passed by, and the baby grew up into a handsome young Prince, and it was time that he got married. The King sent him off to visit foreign kingdoms, in the Royal coach, with six white horses, to look for a Princess grand enough to be his wife. But at the very first cross-roads, the way was stopped by an enormous Lindworm, enough to frighten the bravest.

He lay in the middle of the road with a great wide open mouth, and cried, “A bride for me before a bride for you!” Then the Prince made the coach turn round and try another road: but it was all no use. For, at the first cross-ways, there lay the Lindworm again, crying out, “A bride for me before a bride for you!” So the Prince had to turn back home again to the Castle, and give up his visits to the foreign kingdoms. And his mother, the Queen, had to confess that what the Lindworm said was true. For he was really the eldest of her twins: and so he ought to have a wedding first.

There seemed nothing for it but to find a bride for the Lindworm, if his younger brother, the Prince, were to be married at all. So the King wrote to a distant country, and asked for a Princess to marry his son (but, of course, he didn’t say which son), and presently a Princess arrived. But she wasn’t allowed to see her bridegroom until he stood by her side in the great hall and was married to her, and then, of course, it was too late for her to say she wouldn’t have him. But next morning the Princess had disappeared. The Lindworm lay sleeping all alone: and it was quite plain that he had eaten her.

A little while after, the Prince decided that he might now go journeying again in search of a Princess. And off he drove in the Royal chariot with the six white horses. But at the first cross-ways, there lay the Lindworm, crying with his great wide open mouth, “A bride for me before a bride for you!”

So the carriage tried another road, and the same thing happened, and they had to turn back again this time, just as formerly. And the King wrote to several foreign countries, to know if anyone would marry his son. At last another Princess arrived, this time from a very far distant land. And, of course, she was not allowed to see her future husband before the wedding took place,—and then, lo and behold! it was the Lindworm who stood at her side. And next morning the Princess had disappeared: and the Lindworm lay sleeping all alone; and it was quite clear that he had eaten her.

By and by the Prince started on his quest for the third time: and at the first cross-roads there lay the Lindworm with his great wide open mouth, demanding a bride as before. And the Prince went straight back to the castle, and told the King: “You must find another bride for my elder brother.”

“I don’t know where I am to find her,” said the King, “I have already made enemies of two great Kings who sent their daughters here as brides: and I have no notion how I can obtain a third lady. People are beginning to say strange things, and I am sure no Princess will dare to come.”

Now, down in a little cottage near a wood, there lived the King’s shepherd, an old man with his only daughter. And the King came one day and said to him, “Will you give me your daughter to marry my son the Lindworm? And I will make you rich for the rest of your life.”

“No, sire,” said the shepherd, “that I cannot do. She is my only child, and I want her to take care of me when I am old. Besides, if the Lindworm would not spare two beautiful Princesses, he won’t spare her either. He will just gobble her up: and she is much too good for such a fate.”

But the King wouldn’t take “No” for an answer: and at last the old man had to give in.

Well, when the old shepherd told his daughter that she was to be Prince Lindworm’s bride, she was utterly in despair. She went out into the woods, crying and wringing her hands and bewailing her hard fate. And while she wandered to and fro, an old witch-woman suddenly appeared out of a big hollow oak-tree, and asked her, “Why do you look so doleful, pretty lass?”

The shepherd-girl said, “It’s no use my telling you, for nobody in the world can help me."

“Oh, you never know,” said the old woman. “Just you let me hear what your trouble is, and maybe I can put things right.”

“Ah, how can you?” said the girl, “For I am to be married to the King’s eldest son, who is a Lindworm. He has already married two beautiful Princesses, and devoured them: and he will eat me too! No wonder I am distressed.”

“Well, you needn’t be,” said the witch-woman. “All that can be set right in a twinkling: if only you will do exactly as I tell you.” So the girl said she would.

“Listen, then,” said the old woman. “After the marriage ceremony is over, and when it is time for you to retire to rest, you must ask to be dressed in ten snow-white shifts. And you must then ask for a tub full of lye,” (that is, washing water prepared with wood-ashes) “and a tub full of fresh milk, and as many whips as a boy can carry in his arms,—and have all these brought into your bed-chamber. Then, when the Lindworm tells you to shed a shift, do you bid him slough a skin. And when all his skins are off, you must dip the whips in the lye and whip him; next, you must wash him in the fresh milk; and, lastly, you must take him and hold him in your arms, if it’s only for one moment.”

“The last is the worst notion—ugh!” said the shepherd’s daughter, and she shuddered at the thought of holding the cold, slimy, scaly Lindworm.

“Do just as I have said, and all will go well,” said the old woman. Then she disappeared again in the oak-tree.

When the wedding-day arrived, the girl was fetched in the Royal chariot with the six white horses, and taken to the castle to be decked as a bride. And she asked for ten snow-white shifts to be brought her, and the tub of lye, and the tub of milk, and as many whips as a boy could carry in his arms. The ladies and courtiers in the castle thought, of course, that this was some bit of peasant superstition, all rubbish and nonsense. But the King said, “Let her have whatever she asks for.”

She was then arrayed in the most wonderful robes, and looked the loveliest of brides. She was led to the hall where the wedding ceremony was to take place, and she saw the Lindworm for the first time as he came in and stood by her side. So they were married, and a great wedding-feast was held, a banquet fit for the son of a king.

When the feast was over, the bridegroom and bride were conducted to their apartment, with music, and torches, and a great procession.

As soon as the door was shut, the Lindworm turned to her and said, “Fair maiden, shed a shift!”

The shepherd’s daughter answered him, "Prince Lindworm, slough a skin!”

“No one has ever dared tell me to do that before!” said he.

“But I command you to do it now!” said she.

Then he began to moan and wriggle: and in a few minutes a long snake-skin lay upon the floor beside him. The girl drew off her first shift, and spread it on top of the skin.

The Lindworm said again to her, “Fair maiden, shed a shift.”

The shepherd’s daughter answered him, “Prince Lindworm, slough a skin.”

“No one has ever dared tell me to do that before,” said he.

“But I command you to do it now,” said she.

Then with groans and moans he cast off the second skin: and she covered it with her second shift. The Lindworm said for the third time, “Fair maiden, shed a shift.”

The shepherd’s daughter answered him again, “Prince Lindworm, slough a skin.”

"No ever has dared tell me to do that before,” said he, and his little eyes rolled furiously. But the girl was not afraid, and once more she commanded him to do as she bade.

And so this went on until nine Lindworm skins were lying on the floor, each of them covered with a snow-white shift. And there was nothing left of the Lindworm but a huge thick mass, most horrible to see. Then the girl seized the whips, dipped them in the lye, and whipped him as hard as ever she could. Next, she bathed him all over in the fresh milk. Lastly, she dragged him on to the bed and put her arms round him. And she fell fast asleep that very moment.

Next morning very early, the King and the courtiers came and peeped in through the keyhole. They wanted to know what had become of the girl, but none of them dared enter the room. However, in the end, growing bolder, they opened the door a tiny bit. And there they saw the girl, all fresh and rosy, and beside her lay—no Lindworm, but the handsomest prince that any one could wish to see.

The King ran out and fetched the Queen: and after that, there were such rejoicings in the castle as never were known before or since. The wedding took place all over again, much finer than the first, with festivals and banquets and merrymakings for days and weeks. No bride was ever so beloved by a King and Queen as this peasant maid from the shepherd’s cottage. There was no end to their love and their kindness towards her: because, by her sense and her calmness and her courage, she had saved their son, Prince Lindworm.

[conretewings]

-A SMALL OBSTACLE-

**ATTENTION. THIS IS A RE-UPLOAD. I edited some things and added an epilogue. Please enjoy and reblog if you want**

(I'd like to dedicate this story to @mistwolf4, who's kindness, support, and discussions with me on it helped make it possible.)

When Salem had something to accomplish, she'd usually pick whoever's particular skills were most closely aligned to the task; when technological expertise or sly infiltration was in order, she called upon Watts. When wise diplomacy or intimidation, real or implied, was needed, she'd send Hazel. And when the seeds of chaos needed to be sown or a target taken care of, Tyrian was all too happy to serve.

Bearing this in mind, it wasn't often that all three men in the Grimm queen's inner circle were sent on a mission together; in fact this was only time in recent memory. All of their abilities, she had said, would be crucial. They had no idea about the small yet critical obstacle that lie ahead in their path...

Things started out just fine when they left Evernight in a 'borrowed' Mistral airship. They made it to the first rendezvous point, took care of that aspect of the mission-but when they returned to the vessel found themselves facing an unexpected issue.

Watts banged one fist on the control console after failing for nearly the seventh time to get the ship started, "What the hell is wrong with this heap of garbage?!"

Tyrian poked his head up from an access hatch in the floor, holding a wrench, "I tightened the bolts you pointed out...nothing?"

"Clearly not," the doctor replied with an eyeroll Tyrian didn't see, then leaned his head out the open window, "Is the power supply properly connected Hazel?"

The tall man nodded, closing a panel on the ship's side, "Everything looks fine."

Watts sighed, turning and going to the same access hatch Tyrian had vacated and was now crouching beside. Turning a couple of his rings, he swept a hand out, creating small hard-light platforms in front of his feet, using them as steps as he descended into the small main mechanical control room.

He began to fidget with several controls, muttering and cursing to himself as Hazel, having re-entered, and Tyrian stood nearby, unsure of how and if they could do anything. The scorpion Faunus caught Hazel's eye and gave a shrug before crawling onto the co-pilot's chair, and the taller man sighed, crossing his thick arms and leaning against the wall.

He knew if they couldn't get the thing started soon they'd be out of luck. Thus, ever the pragmatic one, he moved to kneel beside the hatch and said, "Arthur, if we can't get it going, we'll have to be stuck here for the night, or try and secure another mode of transportation. I suggest we head back into town and weigh our options."

A loud rattling and clang was heard from the dimly lit room below, coupled with Watts poking his head into view, "Absolutely not," he huffed, tossing a scorched, blackened piece of metal and wire onto the floor then ascending on more of his hard-light steps, brushing his clothes off, "I've located the issue. This," he picked the piece up, "Is one of the spark plugs for the main engine. We'll just grab a spare from the toolkit, install it and be on our way. Tyrian could you grab me the toolkit? It's the same one you grabbed the wrench from."

"There was nothing like that in there that I saw." Tyrian answered, cocking his head, long braid flopping over his shoulder.

Watts rolled his eyes again, striding to and flipping open a large steel box, "Rubbish. There has to be. There's always at...at least...oh for the brothers sake!"

He stood, pinching the bridge of his nose, "There isn't one."

"I told you, dear Arthur." Tyrian said with a sing-song tone, batting his eyes and earning himself a sideways, sour glance.

Hazel pushed himself to his feet, "We have two choices. One is to let her Grace know. The other is to head back into town to purchase the part we need. If we're quick option two is our best bet."

"No, no, you're right as usual my exceptionally tall fellow," Watts relented, giving his jacket another dusting for good measure and walking to the exit ramp, "I'll be back as soon as possible."

"I'm coming too," said Hazel as he too moved toward the door, "I'll grab a few other things in case we run into something like this again."

Tyrian leapt from the chair and swept up behind them, "Well, don't leave me out of the party! It's no fun being here all by myself!"

Watts waved a hand dismissively, "Fine fine! Let's just hurry and get this done."

An hour later, they had finally located a shop that carried the parts they needed. Watts was inside handling the purchase, Tyrian had joined him, and once Hazel had grabbed what he wanted he stepped outside to wait. The man leaned against the side of the store, slightly down the alley between it and the neighboring building minding his own business and trying to remain as inconspicuous as was feasible. It had clouded over in their walk here, and now the sky above was dark and heavy with the threat of rain.

As he stood, keeping an eye out for possible trouble as he always did, he suddenly felt a tugging at his pant leg and looked down to see...a small child gazing intently up at him. She looked to be about five years old, with dirt-streaked brown hair and an equally filthy dress. One hand clutched a stuffed toy with the other firmly knotted in the fabric of his pants, and she stared up at him fearlessly with bright blue eyes.

He resolved to ignore her, as she was likely simply seeking attention or to play a joke on him, neither of which he felt like dealing with. Thus he looked away again, crossing his arms and hoping she'd get bored and leave. After a minute or so of continued efforts, the tugging became more insistent and she spoke up, "'Scuse me mister!"

He sighed, relenting and making eye contact, "Yes?"

"Where's my mama?" she asked plaintively.

Hazel was momentarily taken aback. Of all the people around she had, for some reason, chosen him. Was she truly lost, or did she simply wander off and her mother was right nearby, frantically searching for her? No doubt it was the latter, and not having time to deal with lost waifs, yet unable to force himself to turn a blind eye-there were monsters other than Grimm about-he resolved to take care of this matter quickly. He carefully knelt, still towering above her but slightly less intimidating and asked, "When and where did you see her last?"

The child pursed her lips, looking away for a moment, "Umm...three days ago?"

Hazel felt his heart sink; three days meant it was the former situation after all.

Fishing in her pocket, the girl held out a piece of paper, "She gave me this but I can't read it..."

Taking it, Hazel unfolded it and quickly realized he was now entangled in a much darker, more complex situation. The note read, 'I can't take care of her anymore. Her aunt lives in Fellstone at 36 Walnut St. take her there.'

His brows knitted and he exhaled so lowly in his throat it was almost a growl. There had to be a police station nearby he could drop her off at, though he wondered why the child hadn't been taken there in the first place. Standing again, he stuffed the paper in a pocket and motioned for her to follow.

"Come on. I'll take you to someone who can help."

She gave a tiny gasp of delight, grinning ear-to-ear and reaching her hand up toward him. He paused, realizing she was trying to hold his as they walked, but pretended he didn't notice and kept on. They made their way through the muddy streets, Hazel taking frequent downward glances to make certain she was still there. His Scroll beeped, and taking a look saw the message from Watts: 'Where are you??' He quickly tapped out a reply; 'Had to take care of something be right back'

In only a few minutes they had reached a police outpost and though he was naturally wary of calling attention to himself, especially with law enforcement, he rapped his calloused knuckles on the door. It immediately flew open, a portly man doing a double-take at the figure in front of him.

"Oh-hello sir. What's the trouble?"

Hazel gestured to the small girl beside him, handing the officer the paper she'd had, "This child approached me...she was, apparently, abandoned by her mother. The note lists a relative."

The officer took the paper, looked from it to the girl, who waved at him, then shrugged, "Look, I know you mean well, but here's the thing; I know this kid. Her mom is a good-for-nothing drunk and is always in some sort of crisis. This isn't the first time she's ditched her and vanished. She'll probably be back soon. There's nothing we can do."

Hazel cocked an eyebrow, "I'm sorry?"

Again the officer shrugged, then coughed and handed the paper back, "I said there's nothing we can do. You can leave her here, or at the pub on Eighth, or Cherry and Pilwin. Those are her favorite haunts. Bye."

With that he shut the door practically in Hazel's face. His fists clenched, part of him wanting to punch a hole right through it. He wasn't naïve; the lines between good and evil in the world were, quite often, more blurry than most cared to believe or admit, however he still found himself entertaining the notion that at least some of those that were supposed to be in a position of protecting others would do just that.

He looked down at the child, whose wide eyes were wavering and uncertain, having clearly comprehended the adult's discussion. So she was truly on her own, with no one willing to lend a hand...except him. Despite his better judgement, in a flash of something deep and long-forgotten he sighed again and extended his hand to her, "If you still wish, I'll help you."

Her expression brightened, just a little, and she reached up, her tiny hand managing to wrap around several of his fingers.

"What's your name?" he asked as they made their way back toward the shop where his companions were, likely, impatiently awaiting his return.

"I'm Greta!" she proudly declared, then held up her toy, "And this is Stinky! What's yours?"

He inhaled sharply, stopping short. It wasn't her name, but it was close enough to send an aching stab through his chest. Drawing a deep breath to steady himself again, pushing the emotions and memories back into the corners of his mind where they usually were, he glanced at her and nodded.

"I'm Hazel. I'm going to take you to your family, Greta. I promise."

Watts paced briskly, hands tightly clasped behind his back and mouth pressed to a thin line. Tyrian stood much more casually, leaning against a tree at the edge of town where they'd decided to meet. His tail waved lazily and he watched the doctor's increasingly agitated state with amusement.

"Oh Watts you'll wear a rut in the ground at this pace," he said with a chuckle and stretched, "I'm certain our compatriot will be here any minute."

"Where IS that oaf?! This was HIS idea and now he's run off to who-knows-where!" he gestured to the sky with it's dark, roiling clouds, "It's going to downpour any moment and he can't even-finally!"

As he was ranting Hazel turned the corner of a nearby building and approached them. Watts raised his hands palms up in a sarcastic gesture, "Ah, at last, he returns. Now, let's get out of here. We-"

He froze mid-sentence, as now Greta peered out from behind Hazel's coat and gaped curiously at him and Tyrian. The scorpion Faunus perked up instantly, making a soft 'oooh' sound. Hazel moved his hand to indicate to her to stay back and at this Watts drew a sharp, deep breath, drawing himself up.

"Hazel. What. Is that?"

The large man glanced at Greta, then back to Watts. He had overheard how the doctor had referred to him and chose his response accordingly, "I believe this is what most would call a child."

"You know PERFECTLY well what I mean!" Watts barked, jabbing a finger in his direction, "Why is she with you?"

Hazel sighed, full well knowing this was going to be inordinately difficult no matter what, "She approached me seeking help, and I discovered her mother has abandoned her. She was kind enough at least to include a note listing a nearby relative. I'm taking her to them."

Watts rubbed his temples, his face reddened with frustration, "You can't possibly be serious..."

Tyrian snorted, "I don't recall Her Grace saying anything about babysitting stray children. Did you forget we have a job to accomplish?"

"Thank you dear Tyrian!" Watts quickly replied, then addressing Hazel pointed at Greta, "This is not your responsibility or problem. Put it back where you found it, and be quick we need to make headway before it rains or gets too dark."

Hazel said nothing for a moment. He knew this was exactly the response he would get, and had prepared for it.

"Fellstone, where her aunt lives, is right on our way. With the winds how they are, even with these two detours, we'll get to our next stop on time or ahead of schedule. And speaking of responsibility, if anything should go wrong I will shoulder it myself."

His teammates stared in defeated exasperation; they knew all too well that once he'd set his mind to something, there was no stopping him. Watts threw his hands in the air, grumbling and cursing and spun on his heel as he began the trek back to their ship. Hazel mumbled to Greta to stay close as he set off as well. The small girl clutched his coattails, having to trot to keep up. Tyrian slunk off the tree and took up the rear of the group, eyeing Greta now with curiosity...or how a snake does a mouse. He crept up closer, and finally the girl noticed. Her eyes widened and she tilted her head, watching his tail sway hypnotically.

"Do you like it?" he said in a sweetly venomous voice, "I certainly do...though many others don't..."

Hazel jerked his head to glower at the Faunus, "Leave her alone."

"Oh, but she's just curious! All I'm doing is providing some entertainment for her for the walk! Surely-"

"Leave. Her. Alone." he repeated, this time in a low threatening growl.

Chuckling, Tyrian raised his hands in a mock gesture of surrender and picked up the pace until he reached Watts, his tail gently resting on the doctor's back. He grinned and winked over his shoulder, and Greta held Hazel's coat a little tighter.

Slowly at first, then swiftly picking up into a steady rhythm, the rain finally came only minutes later. With a disgruntled shout of 'I told you' Watts unfurled his umbrella and took off towards the ship, which was now in sight, although still a ways off. Tyrian tried to shelter himself as much as possible with him, mockingly calling behind them to hurry.

Hazel picked up his pace; he had never minded the rain, but they did need to move quickly. Greta, still clinging to his coat, now struggled even more to keep up. She panted and moved her small legs as fast as she could, but between his naturally long strides and the wet ground she just couldn't-and tripped, tumbling to her knees. She knelt where she'd fallen, clutching her toy and started to cry. Hazel stopped a couple steps ahead and sighed.

"Come on, you need to get up."

"I caaaaan't!" she sniffled, "You're too fast and I'm getting tired!"

"You have to try."

"I can't!!" she repeated, then curled in on herself miserably.

He exhaled wearily. He had chosen to take charge of this situation, and now he needed to find ways to navigate it. They had to move, but she was clearly exhausted especially after everything she'd no doubt been through. An idea came to him...

"Greta."

She looked up at him from the muddy ground, her blue eyes clearly showing her weariness yet still holding that fearless fire. He knew she had a fighter's spirit, she must if she was able to survive on her own. He decided to nurture that, while also clearing up this obstacle.

"Sometimes, you'll be tired and hurting and want to give up. You can't. You have to try to push yourself just a little more to reach your goal. If you get up and walk to me I will carry you the rest of the way."

She regarded him solemnly, then wiping her face with one hand pushed herself to her feet and as confidently as she could muster, made her way to him, where she squared her shoulders as she looked up, "I did it."

"Good. Now then..."

He scooped her up with one arm, her slight weight nearly nothing to him, and started to walk. In moments he noticed the rain still pelting her, even worse now that it had picked up further. Yet another idea crossed his mind, one that would shelter her from the brunt of it and enable him to move faster. He loosened the belt overlaying his coat, tugging it aside enough to place her underneath, where she was now tucked against his chest and torso and re-cinched the belt, essentially turning it into a makeshift sling.

"Hold on." he said, and he felt her knot her hands in his shirt as he took off at a run.

Greta peered out as they moved, seeing the trees lining the road fly by. She held tight as he'd instructed, feeling his warmth and the strong, steady drumbeat of his heart. He had been so nice to her, even though he was big and looked kinda mean. Most people were actually mean. He reminded her of her papa...she barely remembered him, except that he was big and nice too. She smiled, nestling herself snugly against him and feeling happier than she had in a long time.

A couple minutes later Hazel made it inside the ship, taking a moment to rest from running in the now deluge outside. Watts and Tyrian were already hard at work on repairs, and Tyrian looked up at him with a fake pout.

"Oh, poor thing, you're soaked through!"

Hazel ignored him and went to his quarters, which normally on one of these ships was meant to sleep three people but was the only room big enough for him. Removing his charge from his coat and setting her on the unused bed, he then shed the garment entirely. Stepping into the tiny adjoining bathroom he grabbed a clean towel, coming back to her.

"You need to dry off. Here..." he carefully rubbed her head and she giggled, shaking out what he now realized was a soft auburn-brown hair. The rain had actually cleaned her up quite a bit. He then wrapped the towel snugly around her and told her to keep it on for a while. This done he sat heavily on his own bed across from her to plot his next move; he was loathe to admit he hadn't a clue what he was doing. Step one; get her off the street, sheltered, and on her way to her aunt, was complete. Now step two..?

He looked through the open door of the room, then back to her, sitting there swinging her legs and making her toy 'walk' across the blankets, "Are you hungry?"

Greta nodded, "I could eat a doughnut thiiiiiis big!" And spread her arms as far as she could.

"Then I'll get you something," he stood, not letting her see him wince. It was true he couldn't feel pain, but all the stiffness and joint damage he'd done to himself cropped up from time to time. "Stay here. I'll be right back."

He made his way to a small back area that served as a crude kitchenette, opening a cabinet to see what they had left. Some military rations left from Brothers-knew-when that they'd ignored, Watt's stash which was strictly off-limits, though for a moment Hazel considered it, some canned goods, and then a few of his own homemade protein bars and pre-packaged pastries. He took one of the protein bars and an apple danish and headed back. Upon entering he didn't see her, so he knelt to look under the beds and finding nothing, started to feel a ripple of concern.

"Greta?" he inquired.

His ears caught the softest rustle and giggle, and upon her bed saw the blanket move ever so much. He realized now where she was and stepped over to flip the blanket aside. Out popped a proudly grinning Greta, "BOO! You found me!"

"Good, I thought you'd wandered off."

"Awwww!" she pouted, "But I'm a scary ghost!"

"...Is the scary ghost still hungry?"

"YEAH!"

Greta jumped to her feet and upon spotting the danish, practically tried to climb him to get at it. He quickly handed it over and she plopped herself in the middle of the bed, tearing into the food with gusto, doing little bounces and hums of joy. He sat across from her, slowly eating the protein bar she'd rejected and wondering for probably the dozenth time what he'd gotten into.

Abruptly the vessel shuddered, and he could hear the engines roaring to life coupled with Watt's triumphant shout. The ship started to lift off, and Greta gasped, dropping the wrapper from her danish and scrambling to the window, seeing the ground move further away.

"Are we flying Mr. Hazel?!"

"Yes."

She began to bounce on the mattress, chanting and laughing "I'm flying I'm flying!" while flapping the towel she still wore like a pair of wings. Seeing her overjoyed by something to him so mundane, and often grim depending on the situation, plucked some long-dormant thread in his soul and he actually felt himself crack a small smile.

"I thought you were tired." he wondered.

"I-am-but-I'm-too-busy-flying-!" she answered in between bounces, then suddenly cried, "Oh no I've been attacked I'm falling catch meeeee!"

Crouching for extra power, Greta leapt and launched herself off the bed right at Hazel. Caught off guard, he nevertheless leaned forward and easily caught her, where she wriggled in his arms and laughed. He raised his eyebrow, again pondering why in the world she'd chosen him...but he was starting to be glad for it. After a minute she stopped and even started to slump against him. He pried her off and held her out to see her eyes slowly blinking, and she yawned loudly.

"I'm...sleepy...too much...flying. Had to make it to...the castle..."

"Then let's get you to bed."

He stepped across to her bed, fixing the blanket as much as possible before setting her down and pulling the covers over her. She suddenly bolted upright, lamenting, "Stinky?! Where's Stinky?"

Hazel bent and lifted the toy from the floor where it'd fallen during her aerial mishap, his best guess being it was a badger, and handed it over. Greta clutched the animal lovingly to her chest and Hazel stood.

"Be careful with your friends. Alright, I'll be right nearby if you wake up and need something. Goodnight, Greta."

"Wait!! Don't leave me! Mama left please don't leave me alone again!"

"I have to go keep watch so you're safe."

"Pleeeeeease?!" she pleaded, on the verge of tears.

He paused, seeing the genuine fear and longing for some sort of reassurance in her face, then sighed, sitting on her bed and scooting so his back was resting on the wall. He gestured and she scrambled into his arms, leaning against him as he held her to his torso, where she settled with a long, contented hum. He fully expected her to pass out at any moment.

But then, she craned her neck to gaze up at him, "Can I have a bedtime story?"

He pinched his brow; ah yes. He should have expected this. Though he did do plenty of reading and knew many tales, the bedtime story variety wasn't his forte. He thought for a moment, clearing his throat and Greta leaned forward with expectation.

"Once upon a time, a young girl took a ride on a flying ship. It was a beautiful day, and soon it was night, with lots of stars. She had had a long trip, and got tired. She went to sleep and had wonderful dreams and when she woke up, she was with her family. The end."

Greta stared blankly at him, then pouted, "That's not a real bedtime story!"

"If I tell you another do you promise to try and sleep?" he grumbled, but with a growing tone of affection.

"Pinky promise!" she declared, holding up her small hand.

He hesitated for a moment, but then finished the gesture with her...and a flash of memory he hadn't asked for came to him-

-"If I win this race, you have to do the dishes. If you win, I will!" said Gretchen with her usual bravado.

"Are you going to try and get out of it again?" Hazel replied with a sarcastic smile.

She held out her hand, "Nope! Not this time! I pinky promise!"-

He let his eyes fall shut, carefully refolding the memory and upon remembering another, one perfect for this moment, opened them again. This tale had always been her favorite.

"Very well. Let me tell you the story of The Brave Weaver Girl and the Golden Tree..."

The rain had let up considerably, now simply a gentle patter against the windows, and streaks of moonlight broke through the clouds. Greta was still curled in a ball in Hazel's lap as he continued to speak.

"...and at last, the brave weaver girl had defeated the shape-shifter, and taking some of the golden fruit of the tree to sell, went home to her family. The end."

He glanced down; her eyes were almost closed and her breathing slow and steady. Very carefully, he slid off the bed and turned, gingerly setting her on it and pulling the blanket over her. She hummed, pulling her stuffed toy closer and yawning again as she finally shut her eyes. He slowly started to back away, taking a pillow and a novel with him, hoping she wouldn't notice...and just barely caught her whisper-soft murmur as she said, "G'night papa..."

He stopped short, the shock hitting like he'd been kicked in the gut. ...Papa? His chest tightened uncomfortably and he swallowed hard, conflicting emotions he hadn't known he was still even capable of clawing at him. Exiting, he silently shut the door and turned so his back was against the wall, slumping down until he was sitting cross-legged on the floor to begin his vigil.

Her words kept echoing in his mind. Did she actually believe he was, and that's why she'd approached him? No, if she did she would have said so. It was most likely then she simply saw him as a father figure, a notion that sat heavily in his heart.

He was no type of man to be a father. The things he'd done, the pain he'd caused, all in the promise of a different, hopefully better future yes, but still...he didn't deserve such an honor. Briefly he looked back at his younger self and recalled the time he'd wanted a family of his own someday...a dream long dead.

Hearing footsteps approaching, he flicked his gaze upward to find Watts standing there, a mug of what smelled like coffee in one hand and his Scroll in the other. The doctor stared at him disparagingly for a moment before he spoke.

"May I inquire as to why you're sitting there?"

Hazel glanced around before quietly answering, "I don't trust him."

"Ah, yes, Tyrian did mention you'd ended up bringing your little pet along after all. Well, I'm still not a fan of the whole situation however I'm clearly outmuscled," he leaned against the wall opposite Hazel and took a sip of his drink, "I am curious though; why her? What compelled you to not turn her away?"

"She came to me. I..." he trailed off, having been forced for the first time to truly stop and consider it, "She was an innocent, alone. I know that fate all too well."

"Aaah, I see. Ironic, isn't it?" Watts sniffed, "I wonder how many people you've...dispatched, and here you are suddenly deciding this one life is worth saving. Curious."

Hazel felt his hands clench as they rested on his knees; he was well aware of the many lives he had taken and the, as Watts had put it, ironic nature of this venture. He also was in no mood to be reminded.

He looked Watts squarely in the eyes and said, in that tone denoting having had enough, "If you have nothing productive or helpful to say, I'd like some peace and quiet."

With the faintest eye roll, Watts pushed himself off the wall and turned on his heel towards the front of the ship, saying over his shoulder, "We'll be passing through Fellstone in the morning. Goodnight Mr. Rainart."

Hazel unclenched his fists and let his shoulders relax, having not realized just how much he'd had them tensed. Watt's words had struck a chord, leaving him now with a bitter taste in his throat and dark thoughts he'd hoped to avoid for at least one night. He glanced at the door behind him, through which slept one tiny girl, one that in the brief time she'd been with him, had brought him trouble he hadn't planned on...but also a slight, fragile sliver of joy and even healing. Soon he'd be sending her on her way, but that was good. That was what she needed. For the second time that day, he felt himself forming a small, wistful smile.

Leaning back with the pillow behind his head, he opened his book and settled in for a long, sleepless night...

He sat up with a start, nearly banging his head on the wall. It was much brighter around, and he realized it must be morning. Turning he saw the door was ajar, and with a groan from stiff joints and passing out in an awkward position, he stood and opened the door a little further, stepping in the room. He called her, but got no answer, and assuming it may will be another case of hide-and-seek pulled back the covers of her bed and even the others–but found no sign of her. Fighting back the panic starting to brew, he stepped back into the hall area and called her. It was then he heard her giggling coming from the front control area of the ship and he immediately made his way there-where he froze.

Tyrian sat crouched on a pilot's chair, his tail wrapped around Greta's waist as he rocked her gently back and forth like a swing.

In two long strides Hazel made it over and scooped the small girl up to hold her on his shoulder, cold fury in his eyes, "What are you doing?" he all but growled.

Tyrian stood and wisely sidled around the large man, grinning ear-to-ear, "Ah! Good morning! As I said before, I simply wish to entertain our young guest! She was all alone, poor dear, so Uncle Tyrian came to the rescue! Didn't I, little one?"

"Get out." Hazel stated in a tone that did not invite any further discussion, and Tyrian backed out of the area and out of sight, his smile no less taunting.

It was about an hour later that Watts announced they were near Fellstone and he was going to land the ship a safe distance away. From putting the address into his Scroll, Hazel had realized her aunt's place was a small farm toward the edge of town which was perfect; the less people saw them the better. The thick fog that had settled over the land after last night's rain would further disguise them.

With what time the pair had left, Hazel spent much of it telling her stories and she spun her own yarns, though they were generally much more disjointed.

"Are you gonna stay with us?" she asked at one point as she traced invisible patterns on his arm.

"No. I can't, I have places I need to go. I'm sorry."

"Oh..." she said with disappointment, pressing herself into him a little more, "Okay...hey!" She brightened and clapped her hands, "Maybe you can come visit!"

He felt his stomach knot up. No. He knew what he was, what he'd still have to do, how death and danger were always nipping his heels. The moment she found out who he truly was she'd rightfully despise him-as well as be in grave danger herself. No...it was safest for her if she never saw him again. "Perhaps. We'll have to wait and see..."

Finally, Watts called to him that he was going to land as close as he could, and that they had to make it quick in order to stay on schedule. Hazel sighed and gently picked her up, making her make sure she had Stinky, and they made their way to the outside hatch and down the ramp.

It was damp, and the fog was so dense it obscured the small farmhouse only a short ways off, and thankfully the airship behind them. Through the mist however, Hazel could see lights on in the house and could hear sounds of life. Greta gasped, chattering about the times she'd been here before and all the fun things she'd done. He listened to her well, taking a mental snapshot of this moment to tuck away for when times were harder, to have a small bright spot to look upon and hope everything he did was worth it in the end.

When they had gotten as close as he dared without him possibly being seen, he set her down, making sure the note she had had with her when he found her was still in the pocket of her dress. He then knelt, also as he had done just the day before.

"Now," he said kindly but sternly, "I held up my end of our deal. I got you to your family, now do you remember your part?"

She saluted, "Be strong, be brave, be good, and don't be a Huntress!"

"Very good. Now then..." he stood, "Go on."

She didn't move, just stared at him with those bright blue eyes. He raised his eyebrow, "Yes?"

She held her arms up, and he realized what she wanted. Lifting her he gave her one more hug, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, whispering, "Thank you Mr. Hazel...I'll never forget you. Thank you for being my Papa for a while."

He again felt that kick in his gut but kept himself steady, telling her it had been his honor, and he set her back down. Without another word she turned and ran toward the house shouting happily. He watched her go with a silent prayer, taking a small piece of what was left of his heart with her. A door flew open and a woman came out, calling her in confusion. The woman scooped her up and held her while crying joyfully; clearly this was indeed her relative. Hazel exhaled with a rare feeling of contentment; she was home.

"Greta! My goodness how did you get here?!" her aunt exclaimed in astonishment.

The girl turned and pointed, "The big nice man rescued me! ...mister?"

But by that time Hazel had turned and left, vanishing into the fog...

-EPILOGUE-

Hazel stood in the woods, the fading sunlight shimmering in golden beams through the thick trees, the air beginning to cool. He felt the weight of his axe across his shoulders and could hear the soft calls of birds and the distant bark of a fox.

Where in the world...?

His nose caught a faint whiff of wood smoke and some sort of food, and he looked around to see a small cluster of houses on the gently sloping hillside near him, with many more in the valley below. One house, set just apart from the others, had wisps of smoke coming from it's chimney, and he could now also hear faint voices.

Oh. Yes. Of course. He was heading home after a day at the lumber mill. It was a good job, and payed well. Dinner would probably be ready soon, unless the kids were especially a handful today. He started toward the house, seeing now signs of movement through the windows. One face appeared and moments later vanished, reappearing as they threw open the front door and started running towards him.

"Papa!! Papa's home!" they called, and two more small figures tumbled out the door as well, all happily calling him. He grinned and knelt, setting the axe down and opening his arms as he braced for impact. Moments later three children collided with him in a flurry of hugs, all excitedly talking over each other as they greeted him and described their day. He chuckled, telling them he'd missed them too and stood, hoisting one under each arm as the third clung to him piggy-back and finished the walk into the house.

Still carrying the kids, Hazel strode into the kitchen area, setting them down in their respective chairs. A tall woman with chestnut hair turned and smiled warmly as she grabbed several plates, "Hey you. Glad you're home."

"Hey..." he returned the smile, stepping up to and gently kissing her, earning a collective 'eww!' from the children. He tried to take the plates from her, offering to set the table, but she yanked them back, asking if he'd washed his hands. He coughed and turned to the sink, and she sighed affectionately.

After dinner, the kids were seated at the large oak dining table, one that Hazel had made himself, with their various craft projects, chatting among themselves while the adults played chess in the living room and enjoyed the cheerful, crackling fire in their fireplace.

"You've been staring at the board for a while. You stumped?"

Hazel shook his head, chin resting on his calloused knuckles, "Not yet."

His wife leaned back with a smug grin, "You're getting much better. Maybe someday you'll win, but-"

He reached and moved a piece a couple places, "I believe that's check."

"Wait how-?!" she scanned the board, then wagged a finger at him with a grin, "Oh ho, I see what you did. Very clever."

He looked up at her, deep brown eyes filled with that challenge and fire he fell headlong into love with what now seemed like ages ago.

"You'll probably still win this game, but you won my heart a million times already."

She paused with her hand above the board and met his gaze in appreciative confusion. Smiling softly with a blush she replied, "Of all the times to say something so romantic...trying to distract me?"

"No. Just being honest."

Her expression softened, smile widening a little, and she leaned across to kiss him tenderly, "I love you too...so much. You just surprised me is all."

"Speaking of surprises," he shifted to place his large hand over her smaller one that was unconsciously resting on her stomach, "When are we going to tell them they'll have a new sibling soon?"

She chuckled, "I guess...now is as good a time as any," turning she called, "Hey! Munchkins! Come here please..."

-He awoke with a choking gasp, bolting upright and sweating, for a few moments throughly bewildered; where was he? Where was his wife, their children? This wasn't his home it was-

Gradually, the fog of sleep seeped away and reality's unwelcome claws sunk their way back into his mind. All of it, the love, the happiness, the peace and sense of normalcy was nothing but the crumbling wishes of his subconscious, no doubt brought on by the previous day's and this morning's detour with Greta. Evidently, the girl must have reignited some embers deep within he had long since assumed to be burned to ash. Now however, alone in the icy moonlight, all of it quickly faded again, along with the faces and laughter of his non-existent family. He didn't bother to hold on to them.

There was no point in mouring that which you've never had and never will, after all.

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Jughead//let it out so i unburden my soul

Request: Can I request a Jughead/Reader with the song Trying My Best by Anson Seabra , maybe Jughead being soft/uncertain about being the "serpent king" and you trying to comfort him, aka just soft fluff sorta stuff

hey! happy halloween!! i know this isn’t halloweeny, but i do have some things planned so keep your eyes peeled! i hope you enjoy this! this has also been sitting in my drafts for a while so it might be a little different to how i usually right. anyway, have a great day/night!! 

“Jones. What the fuck are we gonna do? We have the Ghoulies after us. We have Hiram’s minions after us. And half of us have joined the farm, the other half are selling drugs.” Sweet Pea rants. An emergency Serpent meeting has been called and your boyfriend is stressed, to say the least. 

“I dunno Sweet Pea. Just let me think.” Jughead replies and you squeeze his hand reassuringly. 

“You’re supposed to be our leader. Lead us.” He continues and theres’s a few people mumbling quietly, each of them sending side glances to their king. 

“I don’t know Sweet Pea!” He snaps before storming away. The room goes quiet, everyone looking at each other unsure of what to say. Even Sweet Pea looks a little guilty, but once people start talking again, he’s quickly recovered.

“He couldn’t lead a dog on a leash.” Sweet Pea mutters and a few members laugh. 

“Shut up Sweet Pea.” You roll your eyes and push past him. “Jug?” You ask and look around the darkened trailer park. Jughead is sat a few feet away, his head in his hands while he sobs quietly. 

“I can’t do this.” He mumbles and you sigh, sitting beside him on the cold ground. 

“Of course you can. You’ll figure it out. You always do.” You wrap an arm around him and he leans into your touch, letting out a small sigh. 

“Not just that. I mean the whole serpent king thing.” 

“Oh.” 

“Everybody thinks I have it figured out. That I know what I’m doing because I always seem to. I always walk around like I know what to do no matter what happens. But I really don’t. Ever since I became serpent king I’ve just been telling people to do the first thing that comes to my head and then hoping for the best. I’m in too deep.” He rambles and you pull him even closer to you. 

“Oh, Jug.” You sigh. The boy you’ve been in love with since you were 13, and friends with for even longer, is sat beside you, pouring his heart out and there’s nothing you can do to make him feel better. 

“I just wish everyone could see that they’re not the only one’s that’s been in pain. I know that the majority of the serpents have it worse than I do, but I’ve still got problems and then I have to fix all of this and I just dunno...” He trails off and you press a kiss to his forehead. “I just wish they understood.” 

“I know.” 

“Before I was serpent king, I was searching for who I was. Thats what I’m supposed to do at my age. Figure myself out, I was pretending to be me until I figure out who me truly was. And then when my dad stepped down I thought I had finally found who I was but if anything, it’s just made me feel less like me. But now I can’t stop doing it, these people need me but I can’t do figure anything out.”

“Jughead. You have been doing an amazing job. Do you think your dad knew what he was doing instantly?” You ask and he shrugs. “I can tell you that he didn’t. Do you want to know how many stories I’ve heard of FP’s younger days. He had no idea what he was doing for a good year and bit when he became king. He figured it out and he learned from his mistakes. And even when he got the hang of it he was still making mistake-” 

“Thanks.” He grumbles and you roll your eyes. 

“Thats the whole point of being serpent king. Its like being a first time parent to god knows how many children.” You nudge him and he chuckles softly. “For someone who doesn’t know what they’re doing, you’re doing a pretty great job.” 

“You have to say that.” 

“No I don’t. If I thought you were doing rubbish I would tell you. You know that.”

“True.” He shrugs and you smile softly at him. “I just don’t know what the best road to go down is. All I know is I’m trying my best, but my best doesn’t seem to good enough. Everyday another problem seems to appear out of nowhere and now I have a million problems that I need to sort out.” 

“Jug. Just breathe.” You tell him. “Take a deep breath. You’ve got all these thoughts running around in your head, we just need to take them one at a time.” You say and he nods, taking a deep breath.

“I have all of these flaws that aren’t helping. I don’t listen to people enough, I’m too distracted, I have other more important things to do, I can’t lead anybody, I don’t know how a gang works, I-” 

“Jughead.” You interrupt. “Look at me. Would you believe me if I told you that I’ve got flaws too?” You ask and you could see a smile starting to appear.

“Yes.” He nods and you look at him offended. 

“Rude. I wasn’t finished yet.” 

“I know.” He laughs. “I thought it would be funny. I can see by the look on your face that that was another thing I got wrong.” 

“Its fine.” You laughed. “It was funny.” You reassured him. 

“I’m still sorry.” He replied and kissed you. 

“So, I have flaws, you have flaws. Everyone has flaws. Even Sweet Pea has flaws.” 

“I could have told you that years ago.” 

“You didn’t know him years ago.” You raise an eyebrow. 

“Yeah, I know.” He nods and you laugh. 

“So, we all have flaws. And everyone knows that. There nothing to be ashamed of unless your flaw is you murder people sometimes, or you talk with your mouth full. Shit like that. Everything else, people get. And they more than likely have them flaws too. Nobody can be perfect, we just have to try our best.” 

“But I am and its not enough.” He argues. 

“It is. Do you really think if anybody in there were serpent king/queen, they would do a better job. You have so many things you need to deal with, you’re doing them as best you can.” 

“What do I do? I feel like the worst leader ever.” 

“I think in the history of bad leaders, you’re like, all the way at the bottom of the list.” You reply. “You’re going to be the best serpent king the serpents have ever known...don’t tell your dad I said that.” You nudge him making him giggle. 

“I promise.” 

“I know you’re going to lead the Serpents to do great things. And I’m gonna be by your side every step of the way.” You reassure him. 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too.” You smile brightly at him and he kisses you sweetly. 

“We’ll take in one problem at a time, okay?” 

“Yeah.” He nods. “Okay.”

[loverlele]

I’m A Believer

Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Warnings: some bad language, that's about it for this one

A/N: It’s currently nearly 1am, I can't sleep and I am bored as hell. I’ve had an idea for a Spencer Reid one shot for the last few days, so I thought now would be the best time to give it a crack. It’s based on an idea I had when listening to I’m A Believer by Smash Mouth. I haven't written properly for a while so it’s not super long and please bare with me. Anyways, enough of the waffling, enjoy :)

Word count: 1480

- 

It’s not often we get cases that end in a good way, especially not this good. It took us two days to catch the unsub, his victims were still alive and he surrendered without much argument. It was almost as if he knew he wouldn't succeed in going through with his plans and decided letting himself get caught was easier. Definitely not something we see everyday. Hell, it's not something we see at all here. So when Emily said she wanted to listen to some music on the ride home, nobody objected. Even Spencer, which I was surprised at. Everyone was in high spirits, something that didn't happen too often on the job. But when it did happen, nobody took these moments for granted. 

The feeling of content was soon taken away as I felt a pen hit the back of my head. My head whipped up, making eye contact with Derek instantly. “What?! That wasn't me, it was JJ!” he proclaimed, hands up defensively. “I know it was you Derek, you are the only one who likes to throw things at other people’s heads” I said, not being able to hide the smile from my face. I love that out of all the things we could be arguing about right now it’s Derek being the man child he is and throwing pens at people’s heads to get their attention. “But JJ-”

“But JJ nothing, go back to listening to One Direction and leave me in peace. Besides there's better ways to get a girls attention. I think you’re losing some of your game Morgan” I said, throwing his pen back at him. I don't think he was expecting me to lob the pen at the force I did because it flew through the air and bounced off his forehead. 

“Who?”

“Ow!” 

A gasp could be heard over the song. “Did Spencer just say ‘who’ to One Direction? Do you live under a rock?” Emily exclaims. I look over at the man sat next to me, his eyebrows furrowed. I gently out my hand over his arm “Em, be nice” I say lightly running my fingers up and down his arm, eyes still focused on the scene in front of me, “He’s too busy wrapping himself up in books and knowledge to focus on anything else.” JJ’s giggle carried itself throughout the plane. Damn you JJ, I thought. If anyone was going to catch onto the slight double meaning in that sentence it was her. I mean I wasn't exactly hiding the fact I had a fat crush on Spence, it doesn't take a profiler to figure that one out. He might have 3 PHD’s and B.A.’s, but that man is oblivious as fuck to what's right under his nose.

“My game’s not weak” Derek huffed, “As for the pen, just wait. I'll get you back for that one missy.”

“Good luck with that one boo” I say, leaning into Spencer’s shoulder slightly. I feel him freeze up for a couple of seconds before slowly relaxing, “everyone knows I'm better at paybacks, just ask the doc how I got him back for stealing my fries the other week.” I don’t need to be looking at Spencer to know his cheeks have gone red.

“S-she waited behind a door for me to come in and then sprayed a whole can of whipped cream onto me. I was sticky for hours!”

“Not for the first time, eh pretty boy?” Derek smirked, completely ignoring any of the other parts of the sentence.

“Shut up,” he mumbled, no longer wanting to be a part of this conversation. He started wriggling round a bit, trying to reach something, so I sat up slightly. He pulled his phone out from his pocket, placing it on the table before getting comfy again. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer to him. I couldn't help a small smile sneak onto my lips at the gesture. “You softy” I muttered, getting myself comfy again. I hear a quiet scoff from JJ’s area, but chose to ignore it, not feeling in the mood to talk about my feelings in front of the rest of the team.

We all sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, finishing up out notes, when the backing track to my favourite song comes on. I quickly hit up, suddenly hit with a wave of energy as my eyes search rapidly for Emily. Spencer softly laughs from besides me, sitting up more himself - yet keeping the distance between us two at a bare minimum. Keeping eye contact with Em, we both start singing along at the top of our voices

I thought love was only true in fairy tales Meant for someone else but not for me Love was out to get me That's the way it seemed Disappointment haunted all of my dreams

I hear JJ and Derek join in just before the chorus

Then I saw her face, now I'm a believer Not a trace, of doubt in my mind

Subconsciously, I start leaning backwards into Spencer as I sing the next bit. An action I thought went unnoticed by the rest of the team, however that was stupid to think so because they pick up every little detail. I mean, it’s their bloody job to do so

I'm in love, and I'm a believer I couldn't leave her if I tried

As I was singing with the rest of the BAU team (including Rossi, but not Hotch, nope he was just sat there basking in the happiness and laughing at our pitchy voices) I was unaware that my subconscious movement had made something click in Spencer’s head. If anyone was paying close attention to the doctor’s face they’d be able to see the clogs in his brain turning and a lightbulb turn on in his brain. They’d be able to see the admiration he held for the girl to his right. They’d be able to see just how much she meant to him. They’d be able to see just how deep in thought he was that he didn't even realise the screeching had turned into laughing. But nobody was paying attention to the fluffy headed man in the corner until I shut around, slightly out of breath.

“Spence... is everything okay?” I ask in a low voice, trying not to grab anyone else’s attention. Little did I know that whilst there was laughing and chatting in the background, the other agents’ attention was on us. His head slowly moved up, his eyes making contact with mine. “Spence, what is-”

“How long?”

“How long what?”

“How long have you felt this way about me?” His voice wavering slightly. I could see the anxiety in this eyes when he asked that, silently hoping he hadn't read the signs wrong. I slowly sit back in my seat and grab his hand gently, entwining our hands together. Both of us too wrapped up in our bubble to realise the music had been turned down and we not had 10 eyes watching our every move. Fiddling with his fingers slightly I try to find the right string of words that don't sound like rubbish.

“Do you remember the day where I came into the office absolutely soaked because I decided that day, for the first time since doing this job, that I’d take the bus and walk the rest of the day?” He just nods his head, his other hand coming to lay on top of our intwined hands, “that day you asked me if I had a spare change of clothes and when I told you no, you offered me your spare change and told me to get into something warm.

When I got back into the office, you were sat near my desk holding a muffin, a hot chocolate and some anti-sickness medication. You said to me, ‘it’s not much but I hope it’s made today slightly easier to deal with.’ Even in the following weeks when I was sick you made sure I was okay. You always had any medication I might need close to you, and you insisted on coming with me to work everyday so that didn't happen again.

I have no idea if I’d fallen for you before that week, but that was when knew I’d fallen hard. it’s okay if you don't feel the same way, I understand and I get that. Just please don’t-”

In that moment, it was as if we were the only two people alive. He pulled me into a tight hug, pressing his lips to my forehead before burying his face in my neck. His arms wrapped around my torso, my body fitting snuggly under his.

It was as if two missing pieces of a puzzle were reunited. Like they'd found their way back home. Back home to each other...

[official-weasley]

The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley: Pt. 5, Ch. 6

PART 5: THE YEAR WHEN EVERYONE FIGHTS Chapter 6 - The Quidditch Love Triangle

Charlie

After two weeks I gave up all hope that Nova and I would ever speak again. I tried talking to her every day and she always stormed away. I have never felt so bad about anything in my life. I didn't even care anymore that I had a crush on her, I just wanted my best friend back.

She even went so far that she asked Jae if Tulip could switch places with her in History of Magic and Transfiguration as she didn't want to sit with me. I was miserable and I hated myself because I know it was all my fault. Even Bill was surprised at this point and thought, like me, that we would already talk it out.

The stupidest thing was, that I don't even remember why I was so mad about the whole thing. I just knew I could say some mean things when I was angry.

I tried to bury myself in my studies but I was doing rather poorly. I now spent most of my time with either Jae, Bill, or Barnaby. I don't know what Nova told the girls but I thought Penny was going to transfigure me into a rat the other day. They were all furious. Mum wasn't wrong when she said that girls can be dangerous.

—

The only time I had any fun these days, was playing Quidditch. It cheered me up, knowing that we won't play against Ravenclaw until next year and that meant I wouldn't have to play against Nova. Our Captain forgave me for giving up the Snitch last year and was happier than ever when I supported his decision to have even more practice. The more I was on that pitch the better.

I now had Bill to help me study for my O.W.L.s. He spent so much time with me in the Library and while studying for N.E.W.T.s still found time to answer my every question if one came to mind.

Jae offered to talk to Tulip and Tonks to see what was going on and why is Nova so mad. I was pretty sure I had the answer to that question and I really appreciated the help but I didn't want anyone to interfere. I reckoned it would make Nova even madder if it was even possible.

I am not going to lie, I did think about Jae's offer. I was getting desperate. She was either with the girls or her Quidditch Team and no matter how hard I tried I never got her alone. In the end, Jae asked Tulip about it anyway and she told him that it's none of their business and we have to solve it on our own.

I knew that much, I was just running out of ways to talk to her or say sorry. I wrote her a letter a few times but never got a response. I spent more time than usual at her favorite places but she seemed to never be there.

To make matters worse I saw her eating lunch alone with McNully several times. I was mentally preparing myself to see them holding hands any day now.

—

The match between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff was approaching fast. I was excited about it as it would be a rare occasion these days where I would see Nova not being mad. One thing I wasn't looking forward to was listening to McNully commentate on every single one of her moves. I hated knowing he was watching her.

I made my way to the pitch with Jae and Bill.

“Jae, thank you for going with us. I know Tulip asked you to go with her.” Jae still fancied Tulip and it looked like they were doing pretty good but these days nobody really hung out with anybody because of me and Nova. Jae insisted that the whole thing between us was rubbish and said that if Tulip can take Nova's side, he was going to stick with mine and I appreciated that very much. I knew he missed hanging out with her.

“Don't mention it, mate.” He smiled sincerely. “As I said, if they want to hold grudges against my best mate, then I don't want anything to do with them.”

“That's really nice of you, Jae.” Bill said and I agreed. Jae just shrugged his shoulders as if it wasn't a big deal.

On our way up to the stands, we ran into Tulip, Tonks, and Penny.

“Hi.” Tulip said awkwardly and waved to Jae.

“Hi.” He said back with an official voice but I saw his cheeks turn pink.

Penny exhaled through her nose angrily and walked past us. Tulip and Tonks looked sad but followed her.

“You know what, this is mad!” I heard Tonks say and we all turned around.

“Do you mates want to sit with us to watch the game?” She asked.

“Tonks, what are you doing?” Penny frowned.

“Look, Penny, this is getting ridiculous! Can we at least spend time with our friends when Nova's not around? She's not going to see us and Charlie apologized to her for the 100th time this morning.” She pointed at me.

“She's right, Pen. They are our friends too.” Tulip said calmly.

“I just don't understand why do you two need so long to make up? What did you say to her, Charlie? I have never seen anyone so angry as she is at you.” So Penny wanted us to make up too?

“I thought she told you?” I looked puzzled.

“No...not really.” Tulip admitted. “Every time we asked her about it she got mad at us too so we stopped trying.”

“Then why are you mad at me?” I frowned.

“Charlie, we are only mad at you because we saw how hurt she was. She came back from your fight as if a troll hit her on the head. She cried for hours.” Penny explained.

“I made her cry? Great, as if I don't feel like the worst friend already.” I lost all interest in Quidditch. I wanted to go to my dormitory and never come out of it again.

“I just think she needs time, she'll come around.” Penny looked so sad that I wanted to hug her.

“Yeah, being with McNully really will help my cause.” I rolled my eyes.

“Charlie, you have to get over that guy!” Penny sighed.

“Wait, was this all because of Murphy?” Tulip asked.

“I threw her crush in her face when we were fighting, yeah.” I admitted. “And I told her that we were drifting apart and that it was okay and I understood that she has other friends now.”

“You did what?!” Penny was furious. “You basically broke up your friendship and you wonder why she is so mad at you!” For a second I thought she was going to punch me.

“I am sorry but I don't know what the big deal is.” Tonks looked puzzled. “He was probably mad as she spent more time with everyone else and he said some bad things, he's only human!” She turned from Penny to me. “You said sorry on multiple occasions and it always sounded sincere to me...” Tulip nodded in agreement. “...and she can't take the bloody apology? Sorry, mate but you're not the one doing anything wrong here.” Penny glared at her and if it was possible I would say smoke was coming through her nostrils.

“Don't look at me like that Haywood, you know I'm right! She's overreacting and only thinking about herself.” Bill and Penny gasped. “He's obviously hurting too and she's punishing him for hurting her feelings.” She continued, completely ignoring them.

“You're right.” Penny sighed and finally calmed down.

“Charlie, don't you think we're not trying.” She bit her lip nervously. “We mention you all the time and encourage her to talk to you. She always says she's not ready to talk yet.” She said sadly, avoiding my eyes.

“Give her more time.” Tulip added. I nodded. I would give her all the time in the world if it means I get my best friend back.

“Now, what do you say we go be friends again and watch the match together?” Tonks pulled us all in a hug circle.

“Who are you two Hufflepuffs going to root for?” Bill asked.

“Ravenclaw, of course!” Penny beamed.

“Mate, she fancies Andre, who did you think she was rooting for?” I chuckled.

“Well, I'm rooting for Hufflepuff, I am done giving Nova a shoulder to cry on.” Tonks frowned, put her hand on my shoulder, and looked at me. “I am on your side now, Weasley.” She said and started going up the stairs. That made me smile, she was a good friend.

“I swear, sometimes she scares me.” Jae whispered. Tulip and Penny giggled.

We reached the stands and found a free spot just as Madam Hooch whistled. Both Teams flew to the pitch and the game began. I was curious how the game was going to turn out. I heard that Hufflepuff got a new Keeper this year and apparently she was really good.

I was interested to see her technique so I decided to stare towards the Hufflepuff hoops instead of following Nova's every move.

Were girls right? Was she the one overreacting? I couldn't believe Tonks was on my side as I still felt like I was the one who did everything wrong. She was indeed torturing me at this point, not wanting to talk but I did hurt her feelings, she had the right to be angry. Right?

“And 10 points to Hufflepuff, what an incredible technique that was!” Great, McNully! “If they have more tricks like this up their sleeves then their chance of winning...” I put my hands on my ears to muffle out the absurd percentages he was about to get wherever from. Bill and Jae laughed at me as they knew how annoying I found it.

I had to give it to the Hufflepuff Keeper, she was really good! I bet Tom was already debating a new strategy with our Chasers on how to score past her. Sometimes I was really happy I was the Seeker. I only had one job, catching the Snitch. Even though I admit that I did a poor job playing against Ravenclaw last year.

I decided to look for the Snitch to see if I can spot it from the stands. It was a good practice and it distracted me from listening to McNully's analytics. Seriously, what does she see in that guy!

My search for the Snitch was interrupted as I noticed one of the Bludgers acting weirdly. Both Ravenclaw Beaters were chasing after it, obviously noticing the same thing but just as one of them wanted to hit it away from the pitch, it moved and the Beater almost fell off the broom. It was now going straight for the students watching the match on the side opposite to ours and just as they ducked, it hit the wall behind them, making a hole.

For a second it looked like it was not coming back but then I heard a familiar sound right behind us.

“Down, everyone!” I shouted, putting my hands over Bill and Jae's heads and pushing them down. We ducked just in time as the Bludger made another hole, this time from the other side, right above our heads. “Blimey, Charlie. Thank you!” Tonks said, while Tulip and Penny looked terrified.

Just when I thought it calmed down I saw it going towards Nova. She was so focused on something and when I narrowed my eyes I saw she was going after the Snitch. The Bludger was approaching fast and by the looks of it, she didn't see it.

“Nova!” I cupped my hands around my mouth.

“Charlie, what are you doing?” Bill was holding his hands over his ears as I continued shouting her name.

“The Bludger! It's going to hit her!” I pointed at her. The ball was now catching up to her and just as she was about to grab the Snitch, it hit her in the back, knocking her off her broom.

Penny shrieked and Tulip and Tonks gasped. Madam Hooch used her whistle and all the players flew to the ground to see if Nova was okay. I tried standing on my toes to see what was going on. I needed to know if she was alright. Now more than ever I hated being so short.

“Bill, can you see anything?”

“Take her to the Hospital Wing, quickly!” I heard Madam Hooch shout just as Bill shook his head.

I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned around.

“Charlie, you have to go.” Penny said. I looked at Tonks and Tulip and they both nodded.

“Be there for her, mate.” Bill hugged me and they stood up so I could pass them.

I needed so much time to get away from the stands as students started to panic. The Bludger was now more out of control than before and started making more holes through the stands.

I was pushing people away, getting a lot of angry looks, but I didn't care. I had to know if Nova was alright. I couldn't believe this was happening. We weren't talking for such a long time and now she got hurt. I felt guiltier than ever now and at this point, I promised myself that I would make her talk to me if nothing else will work. It was time to get my best friend back.

I ran through the Courtyard and down the Corridor as fast as I could. I could feel a sharp pain under my ribs but I didn't care. I had to know that she was okay. I stopped between the open Hospital Wing door, leaning on it and trying to catch my breath.

“Nova.” My voice sounded as if my mouth was full of sand.

I walked inside, still panting looking at the beds, trying to find her.

“She is going to be alright, don't you worry.” I heard Madam Pomfrey say. I ran towards the bed, ready to be by her side as I stopped, stupified.

I felt my heart shatter all over again and it seemed like I was about to suffocate, when I saw McNully by her bed, holding her hand and telling her she was going to be okay.

I stormed out of the Hospital Wing before he noticed me, out of the Castle and into the Forbidden Forest and I was never getting out again.

[nervousladytraveler]

🥰👀🥰

end of year WIP meme!

send me a 👀 and i’ll post a snippet of art/writing that i never got around to finishing this year (r.i.p)

Thanks @juicybeatles for the ask.

This bit is another modern Poldark AU. I won’t say anything else about it other than it is wholly unfinished and takes place around Christmas. If the Poldark fandom is still alive on tumblr in December 2021, I’ll post the rest (promises, promises...).

Happy New Year Everyone!

---

A Rose in December

They’d been talking for hours.

And in that time the pub had transformed itself more than once. Eerily quiet in the late afternoon, when they’d been the sole patrons in the place, then a round five o’clock someone began playing some crooning Frank Sinatra. That lasted until the after-work horde filed in, then Old Blue Eyes morphed to overly cheerful Christmas music with far too many bells. Now it was loud and crowded and would grow even more so as the night wore on. Everyone seemed to have a heightened celebratory edge as they moved closer to the holiday and a few days off.

Ross noticed she hadn’t raised her voice to be heard over the raucous. Perhaps that was deliberate? He had to lean closer to hear her.

“You know I hate the dark spicy shite breweries put out for winter. Pumpkin and clove and cinnamon--it’s disgusting. I don't want to drink my pudding and if I want mulled wine, I’ll make mulled wine,” she tried to make a disgusted face but couldn’t help laughing at her own joke. Her teeth gleamed white and her lips were inviting but it was her eyes--her bright and smiling eyes--that he found so compelling.

Ross laughed too. He noticed they were coming easier now and from deeper in his gut. With each chuckle out, a deep breath was drawn in. A new breath. He remembered this feeling. But he didn’t shy away from the familiarity. Instead he wanted to move further into it. That feeling of coming home and knowing you can open all the doors--to any room.

---

Ross woke to a blinding morning light coming in through the east-facing window behind him. It was a cold, relentless light--the kind usually found in January, reflecting off the vast expanses of frozen snow. December sunlight was supposed to be softer, more muted. But maybe it was the last night’s drink that was making his eyes so sensitive now.

He sat up and tried turning a stiff neck then stretched his arms above him. He laughed--he hadn’t had aches like these in some time.

He knew he’d be alone--that wasn’t a surprise--but he was struck by how comfortable he felt in her room after only a few hours.

Someone once told him that beds shouldn't be placed against a window--it was bad feng shui, she’d said--but it worked well in this space. There was no headboard only the long white curtains that mingled with the white bed clothes. A tall bookcase--also white--stretched nearly to the ceiling and was stuffed with all manner of books. Some smaller ones were stacked sideways, two deep on the shelf, to make room for as many as possible; piles of overflow books stood on either side. A stuffed armchair that delicately walked the line between antique and rubbish was covered with clothes. It wasn’t untidy, just lived in, inhabited by a body whose mind was perhaps occupied by other things.

On the mirror at the dresser someone had stuck a note.

Someone.

He pulled on his trousers and managed to shuffle the few feet without stumbling or finding himself unstable. That was a good sign.

“Ross--Despite your *best* efforts to keep me busy all night, I somehow managed to get up on time! I think it must be a Christmas miracle. I don’t dare wake you--I think you earned your sleep ;) I have to get to work but if the invitation is still good--and not just a drunken impulse--then I’ll come by your place tonight when my shift ends. Ring me if plans change. Last night was lovely.”

He laughed. It wasn't the drink that had inspired him to invite her over to spend Christmas with him but he had been intoxicated all the same--by her. After hours in her company, in her bed, and so close to her skin. He considered climbing back under the covers so he might find her scent lingering on a pillow.

Yes, inviting her to Christmas had been impulsive. But so was spending the night with her. Technically he’d only just met her that day.

Ross had no regrets. And he was heartened by the tone of her note. It meant he’d be seeing her again soon.

He looked around at the other items on the dresser.  A cosmetic case, crammed full of brushes and eye palettes. A hairbrush with long red hairs sticking out of the bristles. An empty eyeglass case--did she wear glasses? Apparently so. A few photographs of herself when she was younger were tucked in the mirror frame. The other people in them must have remained important to her these many years later.

He suddenly felt he was prying and turned away at once. He grabbed up his shirt and went in search of the toilet.

---

“Morning,” a deep voice said without turning from the stove.

“Um, yes, good morning.” Ross tried not to mumble but realised his mouth was dry. He also thought he could taste her on his lips; he tried not to panic at the memory of such pleasure.

“Coffee?” the young man asked then placed a mug on the table in front of an empty chair without waiting for Ross’s response.

“Thank you,” Ross said and after a moment’s pause took a seat. It would  definitely be rude to take the coffee and go back to bed.

“I’m frying eggs. Can I make you one too?” Was this man familiar with the routine of entertaining her abandoned guests the morning after?

“Yes, please. I’m Ross Poldark. You live here?” It sounded warmer and more conversational in his head.

“I know you, Ross. We met years ago but I suppose you don’t remember. I’m Sam.” Now Ross saw the resemblance in the eyes, the smile. He also saw the gold cross around the young man’s neck.

Good god, that’s right, he remembered now. She’d said she shared a flat with her brother but didn’t mention it was the religious one. He took a gulp of coffee hoping Sam hadn’t heard what went on behind the bedroom door just hours before.

“Melz said she was going to your place tonight for Christmas,” Sam said as he went back to cracking eggs with expert efficiency.

Melz--a family nickname but not one he’d ever used with her.

“Yes, I’m happy Demelza agreed to come. You should join us.” Another impulsive invitation. And this time it was followed with regret.

“Thank you but no,” Sam said. “We’ve mission work. It’s an important night for us.”

Of course take advantage of the sad and down trodden on the loneliest day of the year in your conversion efforts. That seems fair. He was glad Sam’s back was turned again so he wouldn’t see the undisguised disgust on Ross’s face.

“Last year we fed over 300! In one night,” Sam continued.

Shame spread through Ross’s gut. At least Sam was doing something to help those in need.  Who was Ross to be so judgmental?

“Congratulations,” he mumbled. Was that the proper response? He suddenly was feeling less and less certain of himself, of his place, of what he thought he knew about her, and what he now saw he didn’t. “Does Demelza help you...in your work?” he asked tentatively.

“No, she’s too busy and it’s...not really her thing,” Sam laughed then grew serious again.

Ross wished Demelza was there to shepherd him through this conversation. She seemed to know how to frame things so the world made sense. He wasn’t sure what to say to her brother now and grew desperate to push away images from last night that flashed across his memory.

Her face, her body was so lovely as she leaned over him in her moonlit bed. Her voice soft and low yet rich as she purred his name: Ross, Ross.

“Sister works hard, long hours. She deserves to enjoy herself now and then,” Sam slipped an egg onto a plate for Ross, then fumbled to find a clean fork. “It’s nice to see her happy again.”

[dreamescapeswriting]

BTS Reaction || Finding Out You Can Rap  [Request]

Seokjin:

You'd gone home to the house you grew up in to pack up some things, you and Jin were moving in together and you wanted to go home and get some more items to make it feel like home, you were in the small gross attic going through boxes while Jin was downstairs in your bedroom going through boxes under your bed since there wasn't room up in the attic for both of you, your mum was talking to him while you continued searching, you were about to go through yet another box on the hunt for an old teddy bear you wanted to take with you but you couldn't find it, but you heard Jin chuckling at something, you frowned and came down the ladder to find out what was making him laugh so much, you went into the bedroom and found him standing in front of your old laptop with your mum, this was normal until you saw, or rather, heard what he was laughing at. On the screen, you were standing in your bedroom rapping along to Ed Sheeran's You Need Me I don't Need You, Jin looked so happy while he watched you rapping along with it and occasionally doing a little dance to the beat.

"Mum?" You questioned looking at her as she searched for another video, you had lots of you on that laptop, of you singing along to different songs, as soon as she clicked on the of you raping to Cypher Part 3 so you rushed over and slammed the laptop shut to make sure he couldn't hear any more of it. He was still chuckling along though even after you'd shut the laptop so you playfully glared at him and then went back over to the attic steps when Jin came out after you, stopping you and pulling you into a hug.

"Why didn't you tell me you could rap?" You pushed him playfully and he chuckled squeezing you tightly and moving you back into the bedroom,

"You're good, might even give Yoongi a run for his money." You looked at him, he was serious about this you scoffed and looked at your mum who smiled at you both before going onto a long rant about how you grow up so fast and how she couldn't believe you were moving out and going to start your own family at some point to which you and Jin laughed off before continuing to pack, together this time to make sure he didn't continue watching any more videos of you rapping along to their songs, and you made a mental note to delete all of them from existence before he could tell anyone about them.

Yoongi:

You were in the shared apartment shower, you thought Yoongi was going to be at the studio until late so you were going to have a shower before making him something to eat and take it to him at work, but he decided he wanted to come home early to surprise you with food instead of you surprising him but he couldn't find you, that was until he heard you in the bathroom, he slowly made his way up the stairs avoiding the creaking floorboards so you wouldn't hear him coming, he stopped outside the bathroom and smiled to himself as you were rapping, or trying to rap along to 'Agust D' you already told him it was your favourite though you told everyone else it was a track off Hope World since Hoseok was your older brother. Yoongi smiled to himself as you got a verse spot on and then went into the bedroom to wait for you, he got the bed ready for you to both cuddle in with a movie and food and then came back to the hallway taking out his phone and recording some of it for himself, you were now rapping along to 'Ddaeng', he smirked sending the video to your brother and Namjoon and dashed down the stairs when he heard you moving around in the bathroom.

"Yoongi?!" You called down the stairs, the towel wrapped tightly around your chest as you headed down the staircase to find him in the kitchen putting food onto plates and looking up at you, you felt nervous.

"Did you just get in?" He nodded at you, putting some rubbish into the bin and looking at you,

"I got the bed ready, movie night in. Don't worry I didn't hear you rapping along to my song and then ''Ddaeng'' you groaned and walked up the stairs, you were never going to live that down with Yoongi, he liked to tease you playfully with things like that.

"YOU SENT IT TO THEM?!" You screamed as soon as you saw your phone, your brother spamming you with questions about why you weren't rapping to his songs, you laid down on the bed, groaning as your voice came through the household speakers, Yoongi came up the stairs with a tray of food and a giant smile on his face.

"I'm so glad my embarrassment is entertaining to you Yoongles." You said sending him a glare and making a grab for your phone.

"But remember that payback is a bitch and I have much, much worse."

Hoseok:

You were setting up the dining room for a meal with all of the boys, you wanted to do something nice for them all before they went away on Tour and you wouldn't see them, you were close to each member, Hoseok especially since he was your boyfriend but you wanted to show them that you were going to miss them while they were gone. Ego came on through the speaker in the kitchen so you turned it up as you went to grab some plates, dancing along while laying the plates on the table, Hoseok stopped in the living room doorway, he could see you through the archway between the living room and kitchen, he watched as you danced along to the moves he'd been teaching you before you started rapping along, he stayed silent wanting to see how far you would take this, you continued and he was in shock. You were good at rapping and never told him, you switched songs over to Daydream and began singing along to it, making up some small dance moves as you worked your way around the table, over to the fridge and putting the finishing touches on the table. He waited until you were facing the cooker before making his way over to you, he came up behind you wrapping his arms around your waist and singing into your ear, swaying you side to side as he did so.

"Wishing on a sky, Wishing on a scar," He sang to you, you were shaking so scared because you hadn't heard him come in from practice yet, you swatted his hands away as he continued to try and get you to dance with him, you turned off the music and the deep blush on your cheeks wouldn't move because he stared at you in awe.

"You're good!" You scoffed and pushed him in the direction of the stairs so he would go and shower in time for the meal, he stopped you and chuckled.

"Not until you promise to rap in front of me again, I want to rap with you." You stared at him and he was serious, he wasn't going to move from his spot in the living room, you glanced over at the clock, the boys would be over in an hour.

"I promise, now go and shower, you smell worse than usual." You joked hitting him with a tea towel and going back to the kitchen so quietly sing along to their songs.

Namjoon:  

"Namjoon can you help me out?" You asked as you searched through your old bedroom, you were on the hunt for some old school work you were going to give a friend, she needed to study and didn't understand what the textbook was trying to say so you told her you had old work somewhere.

"Sure." Namjoon said getting off the bed and walking over to you, you were standing in a walk-in wardrobe,

"Top shelf boxes, it'll have a pink folder."  You said taking one of the ones you'd found and taking it over to the bed to search through it, you filed through different folders trying to find the work but it was nowhere to be found.  It was quiet now, too quiet to say that Namjoon was in your house

"Joonie?" You called out looking over at the wardrobe but there was no answer, you walked over and found him flicking through a folder, you walked back out and over to your box, thinking he was just looking through it for the work when you heard him chuckling, that's when it hit you. The folder he was holding was your old rap work, you dropped a folder you were folding and pounced into the wardrobe trying to take the papers away from Namjoon but he was holding them out of your reach as he continued to read the words you'd been writing.

"Do you have any tracks of you doing these?" He was really intrigued as to why you'd hidden the fact that you were writing raps from him, he thought you shared everything and you normally would but you found this cringe, you tried to take them away but he held them higher and shook his head.

"You've heard my things, I wanna hears yours." You groaned walking out of the wardrobe and over to your bed, sinking onto the floor and lifting the loose floorboard and pulling out an old laptop full of songs you'd been working on before you gave up on them.

"Here." Namjoon came over and played the first one he saw, you groaned a your voice filled the bedroom, you forgot this exsisted and you wanted to slap your past self for ever thinking you could be a rapper.

"That's enough." You said trying to pause it but Namjoon wasn't having it, he stopped your hand from hitting the pause button and continued to listen along before pausing it himself.

"If we get you into the studio we can make these better, you're good baby. Why didn't you tell me before?"  You scracthed the back of your neck nervously.

"I just didn't think I was good."  He sighed and kissed your temple.

"You thought wrong."

Jimin:

You agreed to start dancing with Jimin because you wanted to spend more time with him and that's how he found out you could rap. It was a normal dance day, he'd brought you along to practice with him since no one else came in on a Sunday to practice with him until later in the day so you had all morning to practice together and you were dancing along to Airplane's Pt 2, he'd been teaching you different moves and you were now dancing to the full song instead of doing it in parts.

"You're doing great." He said as you paused for a moment,  you'd messed up a little on the footwork but you were determined to show Jimin that you knew you could do this, you'd been practicing at home without him but the only way you could nail down the moves was as if you rapped along with Hoseok's verse but you didn't want to do that in front of Jimin, you didn't want to embarass yourself in front of your boyfriend, although he found everything you did cute but you didn't want him to find this cute, you didn't want him to know you rapped along to their songs as well as sing them as loudly as possible when they weren't around.

You both began dancing again and you knew the part you messed up on was fast approuching so you began to concentrate a little harder, paying no attention to anything but the moves. It wasn't until you finished and were panting, going to look for water that you saw Jimin staring at you with a wide eye look.

"You can rap?" You frowned before coming to the realisation that you must have been rapping in front of him, you nodded sheepishly and took a drink of water before giving the bottle to Jimin to have some from, you were trying not to look at him but he smirked.

"You're great baby." The door to the dance studio opened and Jin walked in with the rest of the guys, you picked up your bag kissing him on the lips and going over to the door, Taehyung was smirking at you and then Namjoon smiled at you.

"You filmed me didn't you?" You questioned looking over at your guilty looking boyfriend.

"You're on the sofa tonight!" You joked as you left the door, going to find your car.

Taehyung:

It was a boring Saturday night in, Taehyung had the bright idea of doing a Vlive together, all of the fans knew you were dating, some supported while others didn't but that was life, not everyone was going to like you and since you were dating someone they all loved dearly you didn't blame you for not liking you, but Tae was insisting on having a TaeTaeFM with you while he could before he went away on tour again and would have to do them with the boys. The Vlive was normal, full of answering Army's questions and giving them life advice, as well as Taehyung singing along to different songs, giving song recommendations and then talking to fans.

"Does Y/N have any hidden talents?" Taehyung read out, looking to the side of him as you, you looked at the camera and shook your head your cheeks glowing a bright red as a sign you were lying and everyone knew it.

"What is it?" Tae asked looking at you, you didn't tell him about any secret talents so now he was just as excited as the fans in the chat, everyone was trying to guess what it was and couple of them were spot on with it while others were far away.

"I guess I can rap." You said shyly not wanting to rap in front of any of them but knowing you were going to have to, Taehyung grabbed the fake microphone you'd both been using all night and handed you the phone to look for something to rap along to, you groaned and selected one you knew you were a little good at and began rapping along.

Tae had stared at you the whole time in awe, you were amazing and he can't believe you hadn't told him before that you could do this, you smiled and looked at the chat, asking how they knew you could do it and they told you they found old videos of you rapping along to songs on the internet, you made a mental note to find and delete all copies, although now it was probably too late since you'd just been rapping in front of around 2 million people who were all recording it on their phones.

"That was so good Jagi," He said to you finally coming back down to reality after watching you rap, you giggled and yawned looking at the time, it was starting to get late. You said goodnight to the fans and then to Tae, going up to bed and leaving him alone with Army.

Jungkook:

You were working on a secret project with Namjoon, wanting it to be a birthday surprise for Jungkook for your anniversary, you wanted to write him a rap song but have it as a real track for just him and Namjoon, and maybe Yoongi to hear since they were going to be working on the track with you the whole time it was being made. When you first went to Namjoon with the idea he wasn't sure about it until he heard you rap, as soon as he heard you all doubts were out of his mind and he knew he had to do this with you. So every Saturday while Jungkook was at dance practice with Jimin and Taehyung you were in the studio with Namjoon and Yoongi, it was almost finished. You were just adding the final track over it and then it would be complete, right in time for your anniversary next weekend.

"One last time," Namjoon said to you, you nodded and began rapping along to the words you'd written about your relationship with Jungkook, about how he shaped you to be a better person and how much you loved him, the usual sappy love song stuff but in the form of rap instead. Jungkook heard you were in the building from Taehyung who'd seen you walking in with Yoongi so he was on the hunt for you, he walked into Namjoons studio and found you in the Soundbooth rapping to something he hadn't heard before but he liked it, he stayed silent since no one had noticed he'd come into the room.

"Brilliant YN, I'm sure Kookie will love it." Namjoon said to you, you smiled and looked up from the floor to see Jungkook standing there with a smile on his face.

"You wrote me a song? I thought that was my job to do for you." You laughed and came out of the booth and over into his arms, hugging him tightly and bringing him out of the room so he couldn't hear any more of the song that he already had, you still wanted to have the rest of the song as a surprise for him.

"You're supposed to be in dance practise." You said to him taking him out into the hall and standing with him, he smirked at you pushing you against the wall and kissing you.

"I was but Tae said he saw you coming in, I wanted to see my beautiful girlfriend before I went to practise." You smiled at how cute he was trying to be and kissed his nose,

"You're not hearing it until the weekend." You said pushing him down the wall and disappearing back into Namjoon's studio

Tagline: 

@yoongisdumplingcheeks​ @snowy-meowl​ @lovies-kpop-fan-fiction​ @yourguessisasgoodasminemate​

[fanfictionaries]

Oh So Many Years: Ch. 16 - Flame Twin

Pairing: Hermione Granger x Fred Weasley

Summary:

What happens when two Weasleys get too involved?

Absolute chaos. 

Warnings: Swearing, Death, Smut/18+ NSFW

Author’s Note:

OKAY! After 14 hours of traveling back home yesterday I fell asleep editing this chapter! So...I mean I do and I don't have any excuse for that. Thank you for your patience!

I am back to updating every week before midnight on Sundays (US MST)!

I hope you have as much fun reading this chapter as I did writing it! And as always, please, please, please feel free to like, comment, and reblog. I LOVE interacting with you all!! 

Masterlist

<<<Chapter 15

   You are the hider

I am the seeker

My twin, I’m in flames

I’m rolling about

  I have a name

You call me by none

My twin, I’m on fire

Come put me out

  George Weasley loved his siblings very much. His eldest brother, Bill, was easily the coolest bloke he knew – somehow being a prefect, Head Boy, and working for Gringotts, without being dull as dishwater. His second eldest brother, Charlie, always knew what to say in a pinch; certainly, the most level-headed person in England, but then he’d have to be to work with dragons for a living. Percy, for all his downfalls, worked harder than anyone he’d ever known and sometimes George secretly wished he had an ounce of his ambition. Ron was always down for a laugh which George liked very much, but he also wasn’t afraid to challenge George more than any of his other siblings. Ginny, his little sister, was unapologetically herself and took zero shite from anyone. She also had a fondness for trouble, in her own special kind of way. But out of all of them, Fred had to be his favourite sibling by far. Sure, he was a bit biased considering Fred was his twin and all, but George reckoned he’d have no trouble disliking Fred if he were any different. While he and Fred were similar in many ways, they were also very distinct. Fred was more outgoing, daring, and had a penchant to take things a bit too far where he was more laid back, erratic, and carefree. George supposed that was because Fred cared more about things than he did. Most people assumed, if they even bothered to assume anything about him and his twin brother’s differences that is, that Fred was the more callous of the two. But where others saw reckless cruelty, George knew it was really the opposite.  

  Fred cared – a lot. Too much, in George’s opinion. He let his emotions get in the way of his thoughts and it often resulted in him taking things too far. He pushed people past their limits when he thought he knew what was best for them. He punished people too harshly when he felt they deserved it. For example, Fred was the first to suggest they find Percy and beat him to a bloody pulp when he’d made their mother cry. Fred didn’t care what the consequences were. No one made their mother cry.

But he also let the poor actions of those he cared about slide too much. Like with Angelina at the moment – there was no way George would ever put up with his girlfriend ignoring him without any proper excuse. But Fred wasn’t George. So, he sat in silent misery, justifying, and making excuses for why his girlfriend wasn’t in the wrong.

  Fred also forgave too easily where it wasn’t deserved. That’s why George knew without a doubt that Fred would be the first to forgive Percy if and when he inevitably apologized, and when Angelina eventually broke his heart, he would probably find some way to make it not her fault.

  All these things George loved about his brother. But it was also all these things that led to the one thing George did not love about Fred. He always had to be a bloody martyr.

  George knew Fred liked Hermione. He had had a subtle inclination that Hermione liked him back. And after yesterday morning’s little show in their bedroom, there was no question the two had chemistry. The way the electricity sparked between them…George was almost convinced they’d have started ripping each other’s clothes off if he hadn’t reminded them he was there. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say they’d already hooked up before, or something like it. But if that had happened Fred surely would have told him.

  In George’s opinion it would be the easiest thing in the world for them to just fess up to each other and finally snog it out. Damn Angelina and damn Ron alike. But that was too easy – no, Fred had to take everyone else’s feelings into account. He couldn’t possibly take what he wanted if it chanced hurting Angelina’s or Ron’s feelings and somehow those factors had made him blind to the way Hermione looked at him. Which only made it worse of course, because he was annoyingly convinced Hermione would never be interested in him. George didn’t know why – he was a handsome chap. But then again, he was a bit biased.

  It didn’t surprise him when Fred wasn’t in their room when he’d finally turned in for the night. He was probably somewhere in the house, sulking like the right stubborn prat he was. It was surprising, however, when he’d woken the next morning and found that Fred had never returned to their room. Where could he possibly be? wondered George, stepping out into the hall. He started with the kitchen. Fred was known to wake up early and enjoy a nice cuppa while he waited for the rest of the house to wake up. But the kitchen was empty – no signs of Fred or morning tea anywhere to be found. Peaking into the nearby dining room, he also saw no Fred in sight. Perhaps the parlour, thought George and he walked up to the second floor. Again, no Fred. He was irritated now. Was this tosser really going to make him search the whole bloody house for him?

  Stomping across the hall, he thrust the door to the library open and paused. He could just make out the top of Fred’s head, his red hair peaking out at the end of the sofa in front of the fire. George crept quietly across the room, expecting to give his brother a bit of a scare. He supposed the only benefit of having to go searching for his brother would be to get a good laugh out of it. But when he got close enough to peer over the top of the sofa, he didn’t find just Fred. No, instead he found Hermione Granger wrapped around his brother like a Grindylow attacking its prey. Even more curious, Fred was very much awake looking down at Hermione like she was a goddess divine sent from the heavens to please him.

  “Well, well, well. What do we have here?” asked George, crossing his arms and grinning widely.  

  Fred’s gaze snapped from the girl sleeping on top of him to George. He looked guilty, splendidly so.

  “It’s not what it looks like,” whispered Fred, giving Hermione a tense glance when she stirred slightly. Fred only relaxed when he was sure Hermione was still asleep. She nuzzled her face further into his chest and her breathing deepened once again.

  George took a step closer, leaning against the back of the sofa and staring down at his brother who was looking especially uncomfortable. “Really? Because it looks like you’re cozied up on the sofa with Hermione,” George whispered back, fighting everything within him that wanted to jump and scream ‘GOTCHA!’.

  “We were only talking. She was knackered. She fell asleep.”

  “And you just decided to be a gentleman and be her mattress for the night?”

  Fred sighed quietly. “I fell asleep too.”

  “Mmm, I’m sure.”

  “Look, there’s no ulterior motive here. I’m going with Angelina.”

  “Sure didn’t look that way when I walked in. Now, correct me if I’m wrong since I’ve never had a girlfriend or anything, but are you allowed to lovingly stroke other girl’s hair when you’re in a relationship?” George tapped a finger to the end of his chin in mock contemplation.

  Fred let out a small groan of frustration, trying his best not to wake Hermione in the current situation. “Alright, fine. You’ve had your fun. You’ve taken the mickey out of me. Happy?”

  “Not necessarily, no,” answered George, not at all amused by Fred’s lack of fight.

  “What do you want from me, mate?” Fred asked in exasperation. He was bordering hysterics and George could almost see a bead of sweat forming at his brow. Good.

  “You know what I want.” George fixed him with a pointed stare. He raised his eyebrows expectantly. Now’s the time Freddie boy, thought George.

  Fred opened his mouth as if to say something in response, but no sound came out and he quickly closed it, scrunching his brow. This process repeated a few times, making Fred look very much like a fish in George’s opinion. It took a while, but George was willing to wait as long as it took for Fred to give him what he wanted. That’s it, that’s a good boy, you can do it, George thought encouragingly in his mind, hoping that Fred could hear his thoughts.

  Finally he answered in a harsh whisper, “Fine! I like her! I’m raving mad about her! I fancy her more than I’ve ever fancied anyone in my life. Are you happy now?”

  “Extremely—” George pushed off the back of the sofa and headed towards the library doors “—see you at breakfast.”

  An hour later George was seated at the kitchen table, sipping on a cup of earl grey, and flipping through the Daily Prophet. Goblin stock options – boring. New cauldron regulations – boring. Which witch and wizard’s fashion were in and out – double boring. A feel-good piece on the Minister – nauseating. He threw the paper down and folded it roughly with a sigh before pulling out his wand and charming the pages to fold themselves into individual little chickens. He didn’t know why he bothered with the paper anymore. It was just like his father said these days, all a load of rubbish.

  The house was mostly awake at this point. George could hear the hustle and bustle of his family combined with the odd Order member. They were always popping in. Sometimes they brought news, sometimes they were simply asking on the whereabouts of other members, and sometimes they simply needed a place to sleep. Despite housing a majority of the Weasley family, Sirius Black, and a full-grown Hippogriff, Grimmauld Place had more than enough room to spare. The kitchen was oddly empty that morning though, not even his mum had come down yet to start on breakfast. George heard the distant shuffle of shoes on hardwood as someone descended the staircase. He sat up a bit straighter hoping it was Fred. They needed to continue their conversation. The fact that Fred had admitted his feelings to George was a good first start; now he just needed to admit those feelings to Hermione.

  However, it wasn’t Fred who rounded the corner and entered the kitchen. Instead it was his little sister Ginny, looking incredibly rumpled and cranky.

  “Orite, Gin?” George asked, eyeing her misbuttoned blouse and wrinkled shorts. Contrary to the last few days, the morning was uncharacteristically warm and when George had looked out the window earlier he saw nothing but bright sunny skies. Perhaps summer had finally come at last.

  “No. It’s going to be such a nice day out and mum’s got us cooped up in this ghastly place! I asked her if we could take the day off and go home to play some quidditch, but she said she found another Doxy nest in one of the fourth floor bedrooms,” whined Ginny, grabbing a loaf of bread from the breadbox on the counter and slicing into it with a sharp knife. “Toast?”

  George nodded, watching the paper chickens on the table chase each other down it’s length.

  “It’s just mental! We’ve always had chores and I’ve never complained…much, but we’ve also always had time for fun things too. But here it’s like every waking moment is devoted to cleaning this trash heap of a house and for what? Sirius doesn’t care, obviously and if Kreacher cared, well there wouldn’t be this mess in the first place!” She held a piece of bread over the flame of the stove, browning the side before turning it over carefully in her hand and toasting the other side.

  “Fuck!” Ginny exclaimed, dropping the toast onto the flame, and sucking on her singed pointer finger. She kept the digit between her lips for a moment before pulling it out of her mouth and inspecting the damage. “You know, this process would go a lot smoother if I had magic.” She shot George a pointed look.

  George rolled his eyes good-humouredly. With a flew flicks of his wand the bread began to balance itself over the stove flame, toasting to a golden brown before depositing itself onto a plate. While the bread toasted Ginny grabbed butter and jam from the fridge and placed it on the table before George.

  “Why don’t you just try out for the quidditch team Gin? You’re well enough at it,” said George, not really wanting to get into the endless number of chores they did daily. While he agreed, he’d also been listening to Ron and Ginny complain for a month now and he was growing tired of it. At a certain point whinging got you nowhere and it was better to shut up and put up.

  “Well enough? I kick yours and Fred’s butt more often then not. I’m bloody fantastic.” Ginny grinned widely, grabbing the now full plate of toast, and walking to the table with it. George grabbed a piece and began to butter it before globbing on an ample amount of raspberry jam. One of the paper chickens pecked at his hand and George broke a piece of his toast off, tossing it to them. The chickens pecked enthusiastically at it and George took a large bite off of the remaining slice. As he chewed, he looked across the table at his sister. She had four slices on her own plate, piled high with butter and jam. The amount was no surprise. Ginny always ate to excess. It was impressive more than anything. He honestly didn’t know where she put it all.

  “I think I’d want to try out for chaser this year. Are there any open chaser positions?” asked Ginny, taking a large bite.

  Fred shook his head. All the chaser positions were full. Ginny frowned.

  “But we need a new keeper. Still haven’t filled the position since Wood left,” George offered kindly.

  Ginny made a face that George didn’t quite understand. There was nothing wrong with keeper. It certainly wasn’t as cool as beater, but it was a respectable position. Perhaps it wasn’t exciting enough for his dear sister. She always did enjoy a bit of thrill, just like him and Fred. Speaking of Fred. His twin entered the kitchen looking wary as he sat down at the table and poured himself a cup of tea. Shortly after Ron and Hermione joined them. The atmosphere around the table was tense. Or at least George thought so. Everyone was too quiet. They chewed too slowly, as if the lot of them had stayed up late the night before drinking deeply from a bottle of Firewhisky.

  “Everyone excited for a day of Doxy wrangling?” George asked cheerily, trying to lift the mood at the table.

  His three companions groaned, their shoulders sagging. Ron, who’d snagged a piece of toast from the pile, dropped his slice onto the table and laid his head in his hands. Honestly, what was everyone’s problem these days? People needed to learn to lighten up, live a little.

  George did not try to lift the mood again. Sometimes it just wasn’t worth trying, especially when Fred wasn’t in the spirit to help him. The largest of the paper chickens hopped across the table and pecked at Ginny’s hand. She gave a little giggle. George smiled. At least his little sister could still be agreeable when she was cranky. Looking to the others at the table, George caught Fred and Hermione sharing a look. To anyone else it might seem innocent enough, but George assessed the situation like a trained auror looking for clues. It was much easier to spot things when you were looking for them. Their smiles were a bit too warm, their glances furtive, and whenever they came close to touching they both stuttered away from each other. The idiots clearly liked each other but didn’t want the other to know. Ridiculous.

  “Could you pass the sugar please, Fred?” Hermione asked politely, pouring herself a cup of tea from the pot in the middle.

  “I’ve got it, ‘Mione!” said Ron enthusiastically. He grabbed the sugar before Fred could reach it and placed it in front of Hermione.

  Fred gawped, looking slightly put out, and sat back heavily in his seat. He crossed his arms, decidedly mopey once again. Great.

  “…thank you Ron.” Hermione swallowed thickly and began to pile sugar into her cup.

  The table fell back into a thick silence. Thankfully, it only lasted for a few moments more as the distant sound of his mother calling them from the parlour on the second floor broke the tension. Ron, Hermione, and Fred seemed to jump from their seats, rocketing towards the door of the kitchen like they’d been waiting at the starting line and his mother’s voice was the signal to run. George and Ginny hung behind, cleaning up the last bits of breakfast before they went to their mother.

  “Merlin and Morgana…could you believe the tension between them? Could cut it with a bloody knife,” said Ginny, leaning against the kitchen counter.

  George paused, the plates in his hand hovering in the air as he went to place them in the sink. “How did you…?”

  “Oh come on George. I mean, it’s pretty obvious they fancy each other. Hermione doesn’t think he does of course. Just wish that brother of ours would finally fess up and tell her. That way we’d finally stop having to watch them make sad puppy eyes at one another.” Ginny laughed, pushing off the counter and heading towards the door out of the kitchen.

  George stared at his little sister in disbelief. He clearly hadn’t been giving the girl enough credit. That or Fred and Hermione’s actions were more obvious than he previously thought. Either way, it was nice to know he wasn’t the only one in the house suffering because of them. He just wished there were a way to force them to—

  “Ginny! Wait!” George reached out and grabbed his sister’s arm. Ginny spun around, giving him a confused looked. A large smile spread across George’s face and he knew he must look like an absolute maniac in that moment, but he’d just come up with a brilliant idea. An absolutely brilliant, devious idea.

  “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” asked Ginny reproachfully.

  “Gin…how would you like to help me with something today?”

  “What? Like one of your pranks?”

  “No, not a prank. More like a…mission. A mission of love you might call it.”

  Ginny’s eyes widened in understanding and her mouth stretched into an equally evil smile.

  “Oh George, I thought you’d never ask.”

    Fred groaned. Just when he thought the day couldn’t get any worse, life found a way to torture him further. It was a hot day. England had finally found its summer heat and soon the temperature rose so high even the strongest cooling charm couldn’t cut the stifling warmth. As a result the lot of them had divested themselves of their layers until they were as stripped as was proper. Fred, George, and Ron were shirtless as they cleaned out the Doxy nests in the upstairs bedroom. Getting rid of the Doxies had been fairly simple, but the compact, intricate nests they’d made in the wardrobes and drapes was another story. It would have taken less time with wands, but Fred and George had made the mistake of launching one too many Doxies at Ron, and their mother had taken their wands as punishment. Ginny, Ron, and Hermione had glared daggers at them as it really was a punishment for all of them. Now they’d all be forced to remove the nests by hand. Sweat rolled down Fred’s chest as he pulled out an old box from the top of the wardrobe to reveal another clump of nests. Damn Doxies.

  Across the room, balancing on a ladder, Hermione prodded at the drapes. Staring at the girl, he thought this must be what they meant when they talked about forbidden fruit. She’d pulled her hair up, twisting it into a knot at the back of her head, but after several hours of work, tendrils had fallen loose, sticking to her damp neck. Her vest top had risen at some point, revealing the creamy skin of her midsection just above a pair of shorts that had to be the tightest things in existence, Fred thought. She hadn’t been wearing them earlier in the day, but after lunch when they’d returned to their work, she’d entered the bedroom and Fred had nearly swallowed his tongue. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say she’d done it on purpose. To torture him. But that wasn’t right. It was foolishly arrogant to assume Hermione wore anything for anyone, especially himself.

  In addition to the true agony that Hermione was causing him physically, George was causing him equal turmoil mentally. No, he hadn’t done or said anything, but that was entirely the point. After catching him and Hermione together that morning and finally getting Fred to admit his feelings for the girl, he expected a bit more from his brother. He was sure his twin would pull him aside to continue their conversation, or at the very least make pointed jokes. But there’d been nothing. In fact, it seemed George was hellbent on acting as if that morning never happened.

  Fred’s thoughts drifted back to earlier in the library. Once George left, he took a few more minutes to bask in the glory of having Hermione in his arms before he woke her. She had been mildly embarrassed when she roused to find herself wrapped so tightly around him. But Fred played it off like it was no big deal. But despite the moment of embarrassment something definitely felt like it had shifted between the two of them. Fred felt a little less on edge around her and she seemed to be more relaxed around him as well. Perhaps realizing that she could be physically close to him without him making a move had her less concerned about being around him again.

  Although Fred figured if Hermione could hear his thoughts at that moment she’d feel anything but an ease. He had to physically bite his tongue when she’d hopped off the ladder and bent over to pick up the duster she’d been using. A tightness formed in the front of his trousers and Fred turned his gaze away, banging his head on one of the open wardrobe doors to. Squeezing his eyes shut tight he thought about boring things like owl post, third year herbology, and potions essays. When that didn’t work he thought of disgusting things like Blast-Ended Skrewts and Hippogriff dung.

  “Hermione, could you give me a hand with this please?” asked Ginny, motioning to the second pair of heavy drapes as she attempted to get behind the tangled mess of them.

  “Yeah, of course.”

  Fred watched as Ginny piled the ends of the drapes into Hermione’s arms. “There’s a nest back here. I think if you lift the drapes high enough, I’ll be able to reach it,” said Ginny, instructing Hermione to lift the drapes higher in her arms.

  There really shouldn’t be anything sexy about cleaning out Doxy nests, thought Fred. But as Hermione raised her arms higher and higher, she revealed more of her sweat-slicked body. The wild-haired girl struggled under the weight of the drapes, now hold them high above her head. Fred supposed if he hadn’t been checking out Hermione in that moment, he wouldn’t have seen the way her arms buckled, dropping some of the drapes and tangling them in her legs. Sprinting across the room, he caught her just as she lost her footing, trying to untangle her legs from the heavy material.

  “Whoa!” Hermione exclaimed, landing hard in Fred’s arms, as the drapes fell back onto Ginny.

  “Hey! Hermione, what gives—oh…you okay?” Ginny had scrambled out of the drapes to see Hermione in Fred’s embrace, looking up at him in surprise. Fred’s mouth went dry as he looked down at the witch in his arms. Her face was delightfully flushed, and he could feel bare skin under his hands. He felt the tightening in his pants return and practically threw Hermione from his hold, stepping away from her.

  “Thanks,” Hermione muttered, looking pointedly down at the ground.

  “Yeah,” coughed Fred.

  He was just about to try and come up with an excuse to flee from the room when his mother entered, looking around the space appraisingly. “I think that’s enough for the day dears. It’s quite hot, why don’t you wrap up and we’ll finish this room tomorrow?”

  “Alright, thanks mum,” said George, wiping his grubby hands on his jeans and walking over to swing an arm around Ginny’s shoulders.

  “Uck! You’re all sweaty George!” cried Ginny, shrugging off George’s arm in disgust.

  George took a moment to assess himself, looking down at his sweaty form. “You’re right Gin. I think I could use a shower actually. What about you lot?”

  A chorus of agreement rang through the room from them all and they exited it, heading down to their rooms and more importantly, the bathrooms.

    Ginny was only slightly disappointed in herself. Her first “mission” with her older brother George and already she was failing at it. She’d never tell him, but she considered his invitation to be quite the honour. Sure, she’d helped Fred and George with some of their little schemes over the years, but never had one of them asked her specifically to help without the other. At first she wondered why Fred wasn’t involved in their plan, but they she realized it might be because Fred didn’t know Ron was desperately in love with Hermione and vice-versa. Perhaps Ron had only told George in confidence and didn’t want Fred knowing too – Fred was the type to tease Ron more than George would about something like that. Finding out that Ginny was clued in was probably a huge relief to George.

  “I’m not really sure how doing this will make them confess their feelings though,” said Ginny, knitting her brow and looking sceptically at her older brother.

  “Trust me, it’ll work. All we need is a bit of sexual tension to break them. Get them hot and bothered enough and they’ll be attacking each other before you know it!”

  She still wasn’t sure if she was 100% sold on the plan, but George knew about these things more than her. It had been her idea to spill pumpkin juice all over Hermione’s clothes after lunch, forcing her to change. She’d subtly offered Hermione a pair of her shorts, her smallest and tightest ones and a when the older girl had asked whether or not she should just wear her vest, Ginny encouraged it. A small part of her felt like it was a bit demeaning to resort to primping Hermione up like a prize fair farm animal for Ron to ogle, but at this point she was desperate to get the two of them to admit their feelings. Her wants in the world were simple. She wanted her siblings to be happy and she wanted her friends to be happy. If she could accomplish those things in one fell swoop then even better.

  When she’d piled the drapes in Hermione’s arms, she fully expected Ron to be the one to catch her. Bloody Fred and his chivalry. He already had a girlfriend, she thought bitterly, why couldn’t he just step aside and let Ron save the day?

  Either way, they were on to part two of their plan and Ginny would not let George down. Her job was to direct Hermione to the right place at the right time. Third floor bathroom at the end of the hall. George would take care of the rest. Easy.

  However, to her dismay, when she’d reached the third floor she saw Ron entering the first bathroom on the right and close the door. Damn him! Where was George? Wasn’t Ron his responsibility? Putting her ear to the bathroom Ron was currently in, she heard the rings of the shower curtain slide against the metal pole and the water turn on. Fine, she could improvise. This was fine. Ginny spun around at the sound of a door opening and closing and saw Hermione exit their bedroom with her towel in hand.

  “Ginny are any of the bathrooms on this floor open?” she asked, wiping a hand across her brow.

  “This one is—” Ginny stepped aside the door “—I started the shower, but mum called me and needs my help. You can take it!”

  “Thanks Ginny!”

  “No problem ‘Mione. What are friends for?”

    Hermione was grateful for Ginny giving up the bathroom. She was in desperate need of a nice long shower. For more than one reason. There was a moment in the fourth-floor bedroom that she thought she was surely going to combust. In what fair and just world should she be forced to stare at a shirtless Frederick Weasley for an extended period of time? It was painful how good he looked. Hermione cursed her inappropriate thoughts. He was a taken man. But then there was the way he’d held her in her sleep – the way he’d gently woken her in the library. She’d been embarrassed at first, but he didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, he almost seemed sad to part, but that was ridiculous. Again, he was a taken man.

  Entering the small bathroom, Hermione scowled slightly at the running water. Really, Ginny should wait until she entered the shower to turn on the water. It was such a waste to keep it running. She placed her towel on one of the hooks on the wall and grabbed the hem of her vest top, sliding it up her torso. The fabric stuck to her skin, damp from the sweat of a hot day and good, hard work. If she’d known she’d be spending a majority of her summer doing exhausting chores, perhaps she would have thought twice about abandoning her parents. But then Hermione’s mind drifted to the thought of her grandparents’ cat-fur covered sofa and dry Madeira cake and suddenly she was sure of her decision once again. She was just bringing the vest top over her head when something very odd happened. The sound of water stopped. Hermione froze, arms raised over her head and top covering her eyes. Turning towards the shower, she pulled her top completely off, freeing her sight just as the shower curtain pulled back revealing a very wet and very naked Ron.

  While in reality it was probably only a few seconds, for Hermione it felt like an eternity that she stood still as stone staring at Ron absolutely starkers. Ron stared back, eyes wide and mouth hung open. How? Why? What? Hermione had so many questions and yet, nothing came out of her mouth. In fact the only thing her mouth could do was open and close like an idiot before she finally let out a high-pitched scream.

  Ron screamed as well, bringing his hands down to cover his more…vulnerable bits. It was a bit late for that thought Hermione but closed her eyes tightly all the same.

  “What are you doing in here?!” she screamed, blindly feeling for the door.

  “What am I doing in here?! What are you doing in here?!” screamed Ron back, the tile squeaking under his wet feet as he exited the tub.

  “Oh my god—” Hermione desperately felt for the door handle, letting out another scream when she felt wet skin “—OH MY GOD!”

  “Bloody hell, Hermione! Get out!” Ron yelled.

  “I’m trying!”

  Finally Hermione’s fingers found the doorknob and she flung herself from the bathroom, running as fast as she could down the hallway.

  “What is it?! What’s going on?! I heard scream—oof!”

  Hermione collided into someone, her frantic fleeing impairing her ability to watch where she was going. Whoever it was, she hit them hard. Hard enough to knock her backwards. Desperately, she reached out to catch herself on instinct, but the only thing her hand found purchase on was the soft fuzzy fabric of a towel that gave easily as she fell backwards. Hermione landed hard on her backside, feeling slightly dazed. Looking down at the towel in her hand, she looked up in mortification. There standing before her, at eye level she might add, was Frederick Weasley’s entirely naked body. She screamed again, covering her eyes quickly this time, a little more prepared and a little more experienced at accidentally seeing naked boys now.

  “Merlin!” Fred cried, yanking the towel from her hands, and most likely covering himself. Hermione didn’t know for certain though as her hands were still tightly glued to her face. She wasn’t risking it anymore. If another Weasley boy were to show up in the hallway naked, she was prepared.

  “Oh my god. I’m so, so sorry!” Hermione cried, attempting to stand without her arms or her sight. She wobbled and bumped a bit, but eventually found her feet.

  “What the hell is going on?!” asked Fred.

  “Hermione I—” she heard Ron’s voice start and then stop suddenly before he let out a confused exclamation. “What’s going on here?!”

  “What’s going on here? What was going on in there?!” Fred asked back, sounding quite angry.

  “Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god,” Hermione chanted in humiliation as she was now blindly trying to find her bedroom door. She needed to get out of there desperately.

  “Bloody hell Hermione. You can open your eyes now,” groaned Ron.

  Hermione shook her head frantically. “Nope! Sorry. I’m not chancing it.”

  “What was she doing in there with you?” Fred questioned indignantly.

  “What was she doing out here with you?” huffed Ron.

  “I heard screaming!”

  “So you decided to come and investigate naked?!”

  “I wasn’t naked! I had a towel, but she pulled it off!”

  “Why would you run out in just a towel?!”

  “Sorry, next time I think there’s an emergency, let me just take my sweet time getting dressed before I come and help,” Fred bit back sarcastically.

  “Boys—” Hermione felt completely lost at this point, walking into a wall, and hitting her head “—ow! Please. Now is really not the time to fight. Can someone please just direct me to my room so I can kill myself?”

  “Stop being so dramatic Hermione,” Ron sighed. She could almost feel his eyes rolling in his head.

  “Yeah, it’s just a bit of skin ‘Mione. No need to be so affected,” said Fred.

  Hermione let out a high-pitched sound of disbelief. “Are you two seriously turning on me now?”

  “Well, you were the one who walked in on my shower,” Ron said sounded very irritated.

  “Yeah, and you pulled down my towel,” added Fred.

  “How in the world is this my fault now?!” cried Hermione, no longer attempting to find her room. Instead, she stood in the hallway, eyes still covered but entirely invested in the argument that was now happening between the three of them.

  It was that moment that they heard the loud and raucous laughter of two people from down the hall. Hermione knew at once who it was. Of course.

  “Ginevra Weasley, I swear to Merlin I will kill you slowly in your sleep for this!” Hermione threatened. “George, I know you were involved in this too! Don’t think for a second you’re in the clear!”

  Ginny and George’s laughter continued, both of them in hysterics at this point.

  “You two?!” cried Ron. “Why?!” He sounded deeply betrayed, as if he expected a lot from the two, but never something as horrible as this.

  “Merlin, this is…this is better than I ever could have hoped,” said George in between laughs.

  “Really George? Really?” asked Fred pointedly.

  “You know George, I was a bit disappointed you failed on your end of the plan, but I think this laugh was worth failing,” Ginny commented, finding her voice through deep breaths.

  “What do you mean?” asked George. “It was you that got it all mixed up!”

  “Me?! What do you—”

  “I can’t believe you two! Actually, George I could expect this from you but Ginny?” Hermione scolded.

  “Oh lighten up Hermione, it was just a bit of fun!” scoffed Ginny.

  “I mean, what was the point of this? Really?” asked Fred, continuing his rant.

  “I’ve been so nice to you lately George. I even did you chores the other day!” said Ron dejectedly.

  “Indecent George and Ginny! Absolutely indecent behaviour!” yelled Hermione.

  “That’s rich coming from someone only in their bra and trousers,” said George.

  Hermione gasped, pulled her hands from her eyes now and covering her upper half. In all the chaos and confusion she’d completely forgotten she was half naked herself.

  All five of them were now talking over each other, everyone yelling at someone different as they argued in the heat of the moment. The noise was beginning the rise in magnitude until the only thing that could be heard was the overwhelming sound of screaming voices.

  “SCUM! MUDBLOODS! BLOOD TRAITORS! IN MY HOUSE?! OUT! OUT! DISGRACESFUL! DIRTY! DIRTY!”

  Their arguing was suddenly drowned out by the horrid sound of Walburga Black’s portrait two floors down. Everyone stopped. Now they’d done it.

  Mrs. Weasley’s shrill and angry voice drifted up the flights of stairs and mixed horribly with the shouting portrait. They heard stomping feat on the wooden stairs and looked at each other in fear.

  “Don’t just stand here like idiots—” said George quickly.

  “—Scatter!” finished Fred.

Chapter 17>>> 

Taglist:

@theworldisugly-22

@aoonai

@sjh-07-10

@is-it-madness

@i-d-e-g-a-f