#background hermione x ron

[buttered-baguette-writes]

Europe Feels Like a Kiss

Overwhelmed, Harry left the world he knew behind and fled to a place where he had no responsibilities. A place where nature felt fresher, and the sun felt nicer on his skin. The boy-who-lived stayed behind in England; the man in France was just Harry. Although not looking for it, Harry stumbles upon a job, some new friends, and a lover who likes him and not his legacy. It's about time. He deserves a break and the right to live his life the way he wants to.

He tried for a few years to stick it out, to make things happen. He tried to leave a large portion of the war – of his childhood – behind, where he thought it belonged. But his little spot in the magic world wouldn't let him. He tried to start afresh. He wanted to have the pleasure of doing something for himself, but they didn't let him work for it. They handed it over on a silver platter. He wanted to meet new people and fall in love, but all they wanted was publicity.

He wanted to express himself – change up his appearance, get tattoos, let his hair do whatever it wanted. Everyone judged him for it. All he wanted was a change, tired of prophecies and people expecting too much from him.

So, he left. Left the only home he knew and the only family he had before he combusted.

He didn't want to be the boy-who-lived twice. Didn't want to be known as The Harry Potter.

Just Harry.

Apart from keeping in contact with the Weasley’s (including Hermione), Luna, and Neville, Harry Potter disappeared from the shores of the UK.

--

Harry had only been away for a little over a month, but he was loving it.

He'd roll out of bed in the morning, admire the craftmanship of the ancient building as he pulled back the curtains and waited for his kettle to boil. Then, he'd step out onto his little personal terrace that overlooked the well-kept courtyard. He was able to relish in the fresh air and quietness to his heart’s content as if there wasn't a busy street on the other side of the courtyard’s walls.

After a while he'd go follow random cobblestone streets, taking pictures, stopping in certain places while noting others for another day. He never paid much attention to how far he actually travelled, because he always returned to his little piece of France.

It was beautiful.

And then one fateful morning, he ran into a familiar blonde.

Somehow, they had managed to sit on the same park bench, inevitably making unavoidable eye contact.

“Morning Malfoy,” Harry said, voice light. He was being inviting, in a way.

“Potter,” Draco replied, no bite to the word, but there was a slight tone of uncertainty.

They had both been eighteen the last time they saw each other, when all the wounds were still fresh, and punishments were being handed out.

“I… I never expected to see you in France,” Draco said.

“Me neither. Things just got to be too much. They just – I couldn't bare it any longer.”

Draco hummed. “I suppose this is a good place to run away to.”

Harry’s brain ticked away. Although their past wasn't exactly all rainbows and sunshine, they had both gone there to get away from things and people. Maybe after everything they had been through, and everything they were working to get pass, they could be friends all these years after their first meeting at the train platform.

“This is probably random,” Harry started, feeling his nerves leave with each word he got out. Though Draco raising a brow in assuming amusement didn't help his case. “Would you want to hang out sometime?” He finished with a bright smile, his cheeks pushing his glasses up a little bit.

Draco eyed the other man, twisting the ring on his thumb in thought before coming to his final decision. Snapping his fingers, a card appeared between fingers, extended to the other man. “Join us for drinks,” he said, fully handing the card over. “It’s a weekly thing.”

With that, he walked off before he could change his mind about the invitation. That, and he now desperately needed to tell his friends there might be another person attending, lest the ladies kill him for letting them be under prepared.

Harry stayed on the bench. That was the first real plan he had made and yet he still had nothing else to do during the next two days. He decided that it would be good for him, hanging out with people and all.

From that point on however, he started to see Malfoy practically everywhere he went. Apparently, they were both regulars at Harry’s new favourite bread shop, and the blonde was often spotted cooing at random animals he saw. He wondered if the other had any pets at home considering the amount of affection he gave to random creatures.

He supposed he would just wait and see.

However, he forgot about that when he found himself waiting to be let into the house that’s address was on the card. It seemed like such an expensive area, and there he was in beat up sneakers holding a bag of pastries. He stared at his shoes, feeling a bit out of place.

Harry was brought out of his thoughts when the front door suddenly swung open, light and laughter immediately drifting through the doorway.

“My my, good to know The Harry Potter is punctual.” Pansy Parkinson, a Slytherin pureblood, opened the door, smiling in a teasing yet friendly way.

Harry just smiled back, offering the bag out to her.

She seemed pleased to see the emblem of the bakery, politely snatching the goods and motioning him inside.

She led him up the stairs, the first floor just a means of storage and a fancy entrance. On the second level, though, there was a large entertaining area with an open floorplan. It was the perfect combination of modern and classical design, with plants scattered about looking extremely well maintained. There certainly had to be a wixen whose specialty it was.

The couches looked soft as five people laid across them with glasses in their hands as they chatted up a storm, basking in the dim light and slight chill of the night air.

Draco cut himself off mid-sentence, effectively halting all the lively chatter. His face screamed a mixture of pleased and surprised to see the curly haired man standing next to Pansy, who was already shoving a glass into his hands with the claim that it was simply the rules of the night.

With a soft swish of his arm, Draco gathered everyone’s attention and pointed it towards the newcomer. “Loves, this is Harry Potter.”

“As in Potter, Potter?” One of the ladies asked, clearly enthused.

“Ah, Harry is fine.”

The same girl that spoke early bounced out of her seat, long brown hair doing the same. She held out a hand, giving a firm shake as she spoke. “I’m Lottie!” Her voice was coated in an Irish accent, forcing Harry to ask her where she was from. “That’s a secret,” she replied with a wink and a different accent. Next thing he knew, her hair changed into a pixie cut with pastel blue colouring alongside other slight alterations to her features that made her look like a fae of some kind.

Pansy slung an arm around Harry’s shoulders, startling the poor man. As she spoke, he directed (forced) him towards the couch. “We’re convinced she’s a performer on the run,” she said, earning a laugh from everyone in the room.

Harry chuckled too, plopping down in the gap between his two old classmates.

He was introduced to everyone else:

Elle, a lovely Parisian who had known Pansy since they were little. The house was hers, passed down through the family. She was head chef at her own restaurant, having a remarkable pallet and knowledge on both foods and drinks.

Camile and Luca were siblings from Italy, the former being the eldest of the entire group. They had a fascinating relationship with flora and fauna, respectively. Camile owned a plant nursery and was the reason the house was full of them. Luca ran an animal shelter and was the baby of the group.

Him and Lottie shared an apartment above his work.

They were all magnificent company, the night passing by quickly. They had all accepted Harry instantly, leading to a wonderful night full of laughter, drinking, and good pastries.

Harry even exchanged numbers with all six of them.

When the night ended, majority dragged themselves up the next flight of stairs and into one of the three bedrooms on the third level. Pansy cleaned up a little bit, telling Harry that he was welcome to come by her studio the next night and that she'd send him the information for it later. She bid goodnight after that.

She had a feeling that the famous male in her house would be sticking around them for a while – if so, she had a couple things to do then.

Draco was the one to walk Harry to the door, making sure that he was okay to get home safely.

“Well, I guess I’ll be seeing you tomorrow, Harry,” Draco said before closing the door and booking it all the way to the third story. He was eager to sink into the soft mattress.

Harry, who was in fact sober enough, apparated back to his apartment. He ignored the time that his clock told, heading straight for his own bed.

He'd shower and change before he went out the next day. Assuming he didn't sleep it away.

The next day started without him.

The streets and shops had been bustling for hours by the time Harry hauled himself out of bed. He skipped his usual routine, opting for a late breakfast out.

The café he found was tucked away neatly on the roof of other shops, the stairwell looking like decoration. It wasn't grand, but the view he had from up there was exquisite to him, so, he whipped out his phone to snap a few pictures. The thought of buying a proper camera flittered through his mind, but he opted to focus on sending the pictures to the group chat he, Hermione, and Ron had. They would all find something to like about the place. Harry was sure of it.

He stayed for a while, relishing in the absolute freedom he felt there. He liked the fact that the server gave him a funny look when he asked for tea with his meal – thought it funny even. They weren't rude about it, just shocked. When he asked for a coffee beverage to-go, they enthusiastically went about making it, as if they knew he was going to have one. Harry figured that since it was such a quaint shop that they were used to a very niche selection of customers.

Thrilled about having found the café, Harry assured himself that he would go back one day.

With his coffee in hand, he strolled around nearby streets, forever in love with the surroundings. He had yet to visit other countries but there was just something about France that had him feel at peace. It was more than just the fact of nobody knowing who he was.

He stopped in front of a candle and herb shop, gazing into the shop through the window. It wasn't open just yet, much to his dismay.

His phone continuously vibrating caught his attention. Whipping it out, he saw Hermione’s name and instinctively answered it.

“Hey ‘mione.”

“Harry! That little café looked adorable,” Hermione said. “How are you?”

Harry smiled into his phone, moving to stand out of the way on the path. “I'm good. I think I…” he debated his words. “I think I made some friends actually.” For the moment, he wasn't going to disclose who exactly he had befriended.

“That’s wonderful,” Hermione exclaimed. Honestly, she was just happy he was doing well and enjoying himself. Anything that wasn't him sulking or being absolutely lost was a good thing. She was hesitant at first about his little adventure, but she knew it would do him some good to get a change of scenery and people.

“Oi, trying to replace us now?” Ron shouted from the background. A soft babbling then cooing noise followed him, as well as a scolding Hermione. What for, Harry didn't know.

He laughed though, smile cracking into a full grin with teeth and dimples. “Course not mate. You're family.”

Without fail, Hermione let out a soft little sigh she did every time Harry said that. They started talking about other things after that. Like, how Ron and Hermione’s jobs were going and how big Rose was getting. She was nearly one and seemed close to saying her first words. Everyone was ecstatic. In some way, Harry expected nothing less from the child of his best mates.

Baby Rose let out a cry and so Hermione and Ron had to go.

Harry stuffed his phone away, happy mood kept alive as the candle and herb shop opened its doors. He waved at the shopkeeper who simply smiled in return.

He browsed the shelves, loving the smell of the entire shop. He managed to find a candle that reminded him of eating sweets by a fireplace. So, he bought two. He had no idea what they would smell like while burning, but he hoped for the best.

Happy with himself, he decided to return to his flat.

Somehow, he had managed to spend so much time out and about that he had all but an hour before he was supposed to meet with Pansy. He had no idea what they were going to be doing, let alone at her work.

Then it hit him. He had no idea what Pansy did for a living.

It was a soft ‘wow’ that escaped his lips when he finally made it to Pansy’s work. The outside was gorgeous, with an elegant sign with her company name on it. P. Parks Fashion. The inside was charmed bigger and seemed to go on forever from Harry’s point of view. There weren't a million workers, but each worker moved with such urgency and care that it felt like there were more of them. It wasn't a clothing store, but the studio where everything happened.

In the whirlwind of new things, he managed to spot Draco lounging off to the side, idly watching everyone else.

Harry went over to him. Not like there was much for him to do anyways while he waited for Pansy to appear.

“Hey,” he greeted, his cheeks pushing his glasses up.

Draco gave him a once over, thinking about something that Harry was not privy to. “Hi. Pans’ run through is running over.”

Harry nodded in acknowledgment and thanks, but he had no bloody idea as to what a run through was. He was certain that nearly everything in the studio was a mystery to him. Focusing on the one thing that wasn't was a good start.

“So, Malfoy –”

“Draco,” the blonde responded with confidence. Not only did using only last names seem like an outdated trend to him, but he had also left the UK to escape his past and family. If Potter could become just Harry, then Draco could sure as hell be just Draco.

“Draco,” Harry continued. There was the briefest of pauses, testing out the name. He noted that the blonde actually turned to face him after that. “What do you do?”

Malfoy now regretted his decision of looking directly at Harry. He loved his job and was nothing close to ashamed of it, but it seemed that telling the other man was different. He would love to understand why his brain thought of it like that. “I, uh, work as a model for Pansy,” He said, turning back to look at the other workers, hoping his dear friend would show up.

On skin as fair as Draco’s – even with a sun kissed tan – it was easy to notice the light flush of his cheeks. Fortunately for him, Harry wasn't staring at his cheeks.

"He's an exclusive model and stylist! Not allowed anywhere else,” Pansy exclaimed from beside Harry. She startled the pair and Draco doubted that she didn't have secret walkways literally everywhere. “It’d be a travesty if he did.”

She wore the front half of her shiny black hair down, letting the styled bob frame her face while the back of her hair was pulled into a small bun. There was a pen in there, much to everyone’s surprise. She gave her dear friend a cheeky smile before turning her attention on Harry. Her eyes went from his head to his toes, then again. One of her brows quirked.

“What do you do?”

“Oh, nothing right now.” Harry hadn't been doing anything in a while. He dropped out of Auror training almost instantly and fluttered through a handful of different careers before just giving up. He was thankful he had an obnoxiously large family fortune at his fingertips.

Pansy hummed. “I may just call you in for a job,” she said, softly patting his cheek.

Before she could continue the conversation, a young man called for her attention. He was speed walking in their direction, multiple notebooks in one arm and a phone being waved crazily in the other.

“Madame! Madame! It is our new Paris store!”

With a click of her tongue, Pansy had already started off towards her office.

“Draco, hun, take Harry to the reservation. I’ll catch you later. Désolé et au revoir !” And with that she was gone.

Rolling his eyes, Draco heaved himself away from his seat. He accio-ed a coat in his direction before motioning for Harry to follow him.

The pair walked the streets in comfortable silence apart from Draco’s necessary directions when he noticed Harry zoning out. They did look like an odd couple. Harry with his untamed hair pulled loosely back and an unshaved face, his clothes looking well-loved and simple. Draco on the other hand had his blonde hair cut short and fluffy while his clothes were at the peak of this season’s fashion trends.

Odd but not strange.

The owner of the restaurant they arrived at gave Harry an unimpressed once-over, but Draco said something that had the lady complying with letting him into her establishment.

After being seated in a booth, Draco instantly began to study the menu.

Harry let his eyes wander about, getting stuck on the way that Draco leant his head against his hand and worried his lower lip between his teeth. It wasn't that visible, but he was certain he still saw the faint discolouration of skin that went across both of Draco’s lips.

“I’m sorry,” Harry suddenly blurted out.

With a jolt, Draco sat upright, blinking rapidly a few times. He raised a brow at the other man.

“I just realised I never said sorry for, uh, the bathroom incident. I really am sorry.”

“Ah,” Draco touched his lip for brief second before letting his head fall back onto his hand. “Not the worst scars I’ve gotten.”

Something in Harry’s face must have shown that he felt that his apology wasn't taken seriously because Draco was waving his free hand in the air between them. “Forgiven.”

“Really? That easily?” Harry had talked about this with a mind healer once – his guilt made him doubt that people really did forgive him, or that they didn't blame him.

Draco sighed. “Yes. I've done some things I wish I could apologise for. What you did was nothing.” He perked up after that, waving over one of the waiters. “Now, let’s order wine before Pansy arrives lest she unleashes her wrath.”

Harry nodded. Now he was worried about what else could have happened to Draco in the past and just how bad it was to live under the same roof as Voldemort.

“Where did you get this photo?” Pansy exclaimed, certainly enthused about the gorgeous shot of Paris from high up that was set as Harry’s phone background. Gorgeous considering it was taken on the phone’s camera.

“I took it,” Harry said with a large smile on his face. He was very proud of the photo, and he remembered the day well. He had just arrived in France and took a quick tour of the main city before heading off to his new home that was away from the bustling streets of Paris. The photo was so that Hermione knew he had gotten there safely and so that he knew it was all real. That he really moved to France.

“Have you ever used professional equipment? It would be an excellent hobby that makes money.”

“No…”

“You can borrow a camera from my shop anytime you want, or you can learn from my own photographers! The cameras are all charmed to not break, of course, so no need to worry there.”

Harry just smiled and nodded along agreeing to whatever she was saying. She was very adamant that it was no hassle, and that Harry would surely do great.

Draco watched silently by Pansy’s side. She had a knack for being able to pick up on someone’s talents and knew just the right direction to point them in to get them started on the right way. That was how she acquired most of her most loyal workers, Draco included. The latter knew that the longer Harry hung around Pansy, the more likely he was to do something he enjoyed but was also good at.

“Okay, I’ll try it out,” Harry laughed out, moving his hands in a calming motion.

Part 2

Also on AO3

[t1oui]

"she gets the girl" except it's a fanfic about ron and hermione competing for lavender brown

[schmem14]

WIP SNIP {Insert Day of the Week}

Thanks for the tag, @vukovich (x)

Here's a Modern/Muggle AU I'm tinkering with featuring hot himbo swim instructor Draco and not just one but TWO unlikely admirers!

snip 1:

Ron sat in one of the chairs after the twins got called into the pool, pulled his phone out to text his best friend when the sight of Malfoy’s ridiculous, beach blonde hair caught his eye again.  

He looked up, studying Malfoy as he wandered down the line of swimmers, his face still plastered with that ridiculous smile. 

He seemed like he was happy. The concept felt so foreign that Ron began to wonder if he’d ever seen Malfoy happy in all the years they’d been at school together. 

Ron noticed other things as well, unable to help himself. 

Malfoy’s black tank top and short blue shorts showed off a well-toned body—Ron wondered if he still worked out on top of swimming— and his face, though pointy as it always was, had filled out into a sharp, striking jawline. 

Ron wasn’t admiring him, exactly. He was just trying to find the flaw, the crack. 

What would it take to get Malfoy to show his true colors?

When Malfoy came back out thirty minutes later to signal the end of class, Ron still hadn’t stopped staring, and he hadn’t found an answer to his question. 

snip 2:

Five minutes into the book, Hermione sighed, snapping the covers shut. A total dud. She’d already solved the murder, figured out who was going to die, predicted the dull, lifeless romantic subplot, and ascertained that the smut would probably be subpar if the descriptions of the size zero D cup green-eyed redheaded femme fatale was any indication. 

Straight to Goodwill with this one. 

Hermione glanced through the window to watch Hugo swim down the lap of the pool, his splashes abnormally large and cumbersome. His teacher was a petite, button-nosed doll of a woman with water-slicked black hair and eyes the color of burnt caramel. 

Hermione watched the teacher work her magic, her hands steady as they straightened Hugo’s hips, guiding his kicks straighter than he’d been able to accomplish in lessons with Ron. 

A flash of blonde caught her eye and Hermione found herself studying someone entirely different. 

Someone she shouldn’t be studying. 

The problem with Draco was, he presented a puzzle to be solved, and with twenty-five minutes remaining, Hermione found the prospect irresistible. 

Maybe it was the lavender shorts with two-inch inseams that pulled across his tight, muscled bottom when he crouched to listen to what one of the teachers was saying. Perhaps it was the mid-calf black wave patterned socks that should’ve been tacky but weren’t. It had to be the way his arms pulled when he folded them. Or the strand of hair dangling over his eye when he bent his neck to scribble a note on his clipboard. 

[pookha]

Dream With Me

Chapter 2: July 1998

See first chapter for summary and TWs. This chapter contains violence.

https://www.tumblr.com/pookha/737564632111333376/dream-with-me?source=share

Now that Ron has started his training with the Aurors, Hermione's nightmares have returned. The results of the paparazzo's photographs are revealed in the Quibbler. Hermione receives disappointing news from Australia. While Hermione is out, Luna comes to visit to talk to her, but ends up talking to Harry and Ginny instead.

July 1998

The knife bit deeply and Hermione screamed. Bellatrix’s foul breath spilled into Hermione’s mouth and nostrils as she questioned Hermione. Nothing mattered but making the pain stop, nothing mattered, not Harry, not Ron, but she held and didn’t tell. The knife bit again and again. Bellatrix’s teeth ripped at Hermione’s shoulder and she whispered to her in between questions.

“Greyback’s next for you. He likes a bit of sweet meat. Tell me how you got it and I’ll kill you quickly. It doesn’t have to be Greyback.”

Then she was back to screaming questions at Hermione. Bellatrix’s eyes glowed at Hermione’s pain-filled writhing.

Hermione pushed it away; she knew it was the nightmare again. It wasn’t as bad here at the Burrow and she pushed. Bellatrix stretched like taffy and snapped, then she saw Greyback coming, but she turned him into a corgi with a crown like the Queen’s. She stood and willed Malfoy Manor to go away.

Hermione woke up, drenched in sweat, touched the spot where Ron had slept just the week before and sighed. She held his pillow to her face, but his scent had already faded. He’d come back once to get some more of his clothes and a small trunk of possessions and then had left immediately back to his training. The nightmares hadn’t been as bad when she was sleeping with Ron, but they were coming back stronger again. She rested in bed for a long time, her head down in her hands. Suddenly, a knock came at her door and a hand slid an official looking envelope under it, followed a moment later by a magazine with a lurid ad for ‘Potions of Prowess for Men of Discernment’ featuring a very phallic looking wand that covered the entire back cover. Hermione knew it had to be an issue of the Quibbler .

“Dear, you should probably read the letter before looking at the Quibbler,” Molly’s voice came from behind the door.

“Thanks, Mrs—Molly,” Hermione said, rising to get the letter.

The letter was from the Australian Department of Muggle Relations. She picked it up and slit open the wax seal.

…regret to inform…further memory manipulation could be detrimental…cannot authorise restoration of memories…they are thriving…seem happy…Sincerely.

The words danced menacingly around behind her closed eyes; they spiralled and twisted and her stomach churned with vertigo. She’d expected the worst, but now that it was confirmed, she found she hadn’t really been ready for it. When she started to cry, it surprised her. She gulped in big breaths of air, but they came out explosively in heaving sobs. Tears streamed down her cheeks and onto the oversize shirt of Ron’s that she wore to bed. She didn’t know how long she’d sat there on the edge of the bed with her tears smearing the ink on the evidence of her crime against her parents when Harry opened the door already dressed for the day in jeans and a T-shirt.

He crossed the room in two loping steps and sat next to her on the bed. He pulled her close and let her cry on him until her sobs subsided and her hitched breathing grew more regular.

“I did this to them,” she said, shoving the smeared letter into his hands.

He read it quickly and kissed her forehead.

“You saved them. If they’d stayed, the Death Eaters surely would have killed them.”

“But is what I did any better? I didn’t ask them; I just assumed I knew better. How is it different from ‘Magic is Might?’”

“It is different. You saved them because you love them. ‘Magic is Might’ doesn’t care about love, it only cares about control.”

“I suppose…” she started to say, but Harry cut her off.

“Don’t suppose, it’s the truth; don’t be hard on yourself. I know how it is to be without your parents.”

“Not going to tell me that it’s going to be easier for me because I know they’re still alive?” Hermione asked, a little acid in her voice.

“No,” Harry said simply. “No, that sounds like shit. It’s going to be fucking hard. I’ll be there for you; anything you need, you call me. Okay?”

She’d told Molly recently that Harry was like her brother and it was true; he was her brother and she was his sister and he’d always be family to her.

He tossed the letter on the desk and picked up the Quibbler curiously. When he turned it over, his face reddened in anger.

“What is it?” she asked and he held the magazine out to her.

The front of the magazine was a full-page, grainy, long-range shot of Hermione and Ron sitting on a blanket in the Burrow’s garden. He was holding out a ring to her and she was reaching out toward his hand. The caption under the Quibbler masthead read ‘Wedding Bells for our Saviours?’ She thumbed the magazine open to the article. Harry could see more pictures of Ron and Hermione in the garden, some from the same day and some from other days. There were a couple of photos of Harry and Ginny there, too. He couldn’t read the article over Hermione’s hands, but he knew what it had to say from the way her face went from sadness to anger to flaming rage. When she’d finished, she threw it across the room, grabbed her wand and a second later, the magazine exploded in a shower of confetti. A little fragment of a photo of her and Ron kissing landed on her lap and she ripped it apart.

“This fucking rag!” she yelled.

“Was it bad?” he asked and she rounded on him.

“It was a total fucking invasion of our privacy! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck” she got louder with each shout.

“He said that Ron and I have been secretly engaged for weeks and that we were going to get married in a big event when we receive our Orders of Merlin. It’s so dumb. Even if Ron and I got married, we wouldn’t do it in a big spectacle. The article made us out to be giant egomaniacs just riding your coattails. They put words in our mouth without interviewing us: not like I’d sit for an interview with the Quibbler anyway. I just don’t know how they can make stuff up wholesale.”

She flicked her wand at the confetti bits of the magazine and they flew into the bin, then she set them on fire. No smoke came from the fire and the bin didn’t catch alight, but no trace was left of the magazine after a few seconds, not even ash.

“Do you want to hire a barrister?” Harry asked.

Hermione shook her head.

“It would just give credence to it with publicity and I don’t want any more publicity, good or bad. Do you?”

“No. You’re right,” Harry said.

“I wonder if I damaged him also when I erased his memory of us?” Hermione asked, flopping heavily back on the bed. Harry understood she meant Xenophilius.

“I don’t think so; Luna would have said something.”

“I need to get out of here today, go somewhere, do something. If I knew what I needed for sure for Hogwarts, I’d go get my supplies. Or at least I would if I had money. Now I know how Ron always felt.”

Harry dug in his pocket and pulled out some Galleons.

“Why don’t you go to Flourish and Blotts and buy yourself some books, my treat.” He tried to push the money at her, but she pulled back.

“I can’t take more of your money, Harry.”

He grabbed her hand, opened it, stuck the coins in, and closed her hand over them..

“You can and you should. I have more than I need and it can help you. Get yourself something nice, treat yourself to lunch, visit George and bring me back something from WWW or some sweets.” He closed her hand.

“I—thanks,” she said.

“You probably should wash and put on some clothes though before you go or the Quibbler will have more interesting pictures.” He nodded at her bare legs and tear-streaked cheeks.

“I have knickers on under here,” she said, swatting him.

“I know, but the Quibbler would say something like ‘Temptress and Seductress.’”

She laughed and then sobered up instantly.

“I don’t understand how Luna can believe so much of the Quibbler, so much of her dad’s lies.”

“He’s her only family; her mom died in an accident when she was small and Xenophilius raised her. Seems natural that she’d look up to him.”

“I guess. I’d hate to lose her as a friend because of her father, but if she’s always going to bristle at criticism of him and the Quibbler, then I don’t know if I can be her friend.” She sighed and started digging in her pack for clothes.

“You haven’t put your clothes in the dresser?” Harry asked, nodding toward it.

“It seems too permanent.” She started to shuck off her sleep shirt, then stopped and stared at him pointedly.

“I’m going, I’m going. Have fun in Diagon Alley. Forget the letter and the magazine. Bring me some sweets.” He leaned over, kissed her forehead, then left.

Later, Harry heard Hermione leave through the Floo and went in search of Ginny, who wasn’t in her room. He finally found her feeding the chickens with Crookshanks supervising from outside the coop. He scratched Crookshanks on the back of the neck and Crookshanks butted his hand vigorously when Harry stopped. Harry laughed and kept scratching Crookshanks until the cat got up and stalked off, tail up.

“Aw, that was cute,” Ginny said as she put the feed bucket away and carefully cleaned up the spilled feed to keep away rats and gnomes.

“He’s a good moggie,” Harry said, watching Crookshanks disappear into the weeds of the garden.

“Yeah,” Ginny said, taking Harry’s hand. They headed toward the kitchen door.

“Did you talk to Hermione before she left?”

Ginny shook her head.

“I saw her and she looked upset, but she’d flooed away before I could talk to her.”

Harry thought for just a moment, then told Ginny about the letter and the issue of the Quibbler.

“So it had photos of us also?” she asked.

“It did, but I couldn’t see them clearly. Most of the photos I could see were of us snogging or Ron and Hermione snogging.”

“Could you tell where they were taken from?” she asked. He nodded and pointed to just outside the Weasley’s property. Ginny called Crookshanks, who came trotting out of the garden. She knelt down, whispered in his ear and pointed off at the grass where the photographer must have been hidden. Crookshanks listened in a very un-catlike manner, then stalked off, low to the ground into the tall grass. A moment later there was a commotion and the unmistakable sound of someone Apparating away. Ginny laughed as Crookshanks came trotting back, tail up with a camera strap in his mouth. He followed Ginny and Harry into the kitchen. Harry dug around and found a tin of tuna and gave it all to Crookshanks on a plate. He took the camera strap and hung it on a coat peg.

They were just about to head up to Ginny’s room when a knock came at the front door. Harry was closest so he opened it. Luna was on the other side, in a short yellow floral dress. An enchanted bright orange Japanese-style parasol floated over her head. She had a necklace of daisies and her wand behind her ear. Her large silvery eyes stared around the entranceway before landing on Harry.

“Harry!” she said gleefully as she stepped forward and hugged him. The parasol folded up, shrank and slid itself into a hidden pocket on her dress When Harry stepped back, Ginny hugged Luna and kissed her on the cheek. Luna returned the kiss on Ginny’s cheek.

She came in and Harry closed the door behind her.

“It’s been a while since Bill and Fleur’s wedding,” she said apropos of nothing.

“Yeah,” Harry said.

“What brings you here?” Ginny said, leading Luna to the sitting room.

“I was hoping Hermione was here,” she said quietly.

“Is everything all right?” Harry asked, noticing Luna’s tone.

“I was hoping to see her before she saw the latest edition of the Quibbler.” Luna looked at everything but Harry and Ginny.

“It’s too late for that. She was…” Ginny looked at Harry who shrugged.

“Vexed?” Luna asked.

“She threw a right old wobbler,” Harry said. Luna blinked.

“She was extremely angry, shredded the magazine, binned it and lit it on fire,” Harry clarified.

“Oh,” Luna said and lowered her head.

She sighed slowly, a sound that Harry had never heard from her and she kept her eyes down for a long time before raising them to meet Harry’s.

“Will you tell her I was here and I’m sorry for what my father did? I told him that it wasn’t true; I know that Hermione loves Ronald, but there’s no way they’re getting engaged right now. He’s going to join the Aurors and she’s going back to Hogwarts.”

“How do you know that? Both of those?” Harry asked.

Luna tilted her head and looked at him like he was an interesting bug or a talking dog.

“Well, Neville got a letter from the Aurors and he said that you and Ronald and Hermione had also. Neville’s not going to do it but I know Ronald will…it’s just what he’d do. In the same way, I know Hermione would want to go back to Hogwarts.”

“And you,” she pointed at Harry. “I’m not sure what you’ll do, but I think you’re coming back to school with us?”

Harry nodded.

“Daddy wouldn’t listen to me. He said it was obvious that they’re getting engaged because so many people got married young after and during the last war, like Molly and Arthur. I told him that Hermione was different, but I don’t know why he was so set on it.”

“Would you like to stay for dinner and wait for Hermione?” Ginny asked. She got up and sat next to Luna and took her hand.

“No, I need to help Daddy. He’s been trying to repair the tower, but he’s not as good at it as Mum was, or I am for that matter. Please just ask Hermione to forgive him and I’ll keep trying to make him understand.” She squeezed Ginny’s hand and stood abruptly.

As she was leaving, she turned and spoke.

“Oh, and let her know she was right. It was an Erumpent horn; I can tell from the damage. Apologise for me for that, too. Just apologise for me all around, I guess.”

Harry moved to talk to her, to grab her, but she closed the door in his face and he heard her Apparate away before he could open the door again.

“I’ve never seen Luna like that before, have you?” Harry asked.

“I—yeah.” Ginny took Harry’s hand and pulled him toward her room. He started to ask a question, but she squeezed his hand in warning and pointed at her ear. Harry understood she meant that someone, probably Molly, could be listening.

When they got to Ginny’s room, she closed the door and put the Silencing Charm on it. She sat on her bed and patted the spot next to her.

“You don’t know what it was like at Hogwarts last year. Everyone was scared, frightened of what they might have done to them or what they might be forced to do to others. Neville, Luna and I took on a lot with the DA in the Room of Requirement, but we were scared too.”

She sighed.

“Even Luna was scared. I—we…” she paused.

“You slept together; it’s okay, I already knew.” He put his arm around her shoulders.

“What? How?”

“The map: when we were on the run, I’d watch your name on the map and imagine I was there holding you. If you went into the Room of Requirement, it would disappear, but I saw your name and Luna’s together in both your dorm and hers. Whatever happened there happened there and I know it didn’t have anything to do with me.”

Ginny let out a long breath.

“I was so scared you’d be angry.”

“No, I get it. Don’t tell Hermione or Ron I told you, but at one point Ron left for a time and it was just Hermione and me. We almost…well, but we didn’t…it would have been weird. So I understand the need to be held and loved and don’t begrudge you that at all.”

“Thank you, love.” She lifted her face and kissed him lightly.

“Luna was like that then. She hides it better than anyone I’ve ever known, but she was so scared and lonely and so was I. And so was Neville. But if you had the map, you knew about that, too, right?”

Harry nodded.

“Same thing. It’s in the past, we weren’t together and they gave you what you needed. I’m glad they were there for you and you for them.”

He elbowed her lightly.

“I gotta know, though, am I better than Neville?”

She reddened, then laughed when she realised he was just winding her up.

“Hmm. I don’t know. I’ll have to check again.” Her hand slid under his shirt and they lost the next hour and a half.

“I love you,” she said when she got up to shower. She paused at the door and made sure her mother wasn’t watching before creeping down the hallway on tiptoes. Harry used his wand to clean up and slid his clothes on just in time before Molly knocked on the door.

“Harry, dear, can you help me with the runner beans?” her voice called from behind the door.

“Sure, Molly, be right there.” He met her in the garden a moment later and helped her tie up beans to stakes.

“Please, dear, I want you two to be careful,” she said eventually.

“What?” Harry asked.

“Ginny wants to play professional Quidditch, so no getting her pregnant, okay?”

“I—I,” Harry stammered. “We’re being careful. I’m using the charm and she’s using the potion.” He felt like he could fry an egg on his face.

“Okay, then,” Molly said simply and changed the subject.

Later that night, long after dinner, Harry was reading a book on Quidditch strategy when Hermione’s unmistakable knock came at his door.

“Come in,” he said.

She opened the door, came in with a big bag under her arm and closed the door. She sat on the bed while Harry stayed at his desk. She dug in her bag, rummaged a moment and then tossed a couple of Mars bars at Harry, who caught them.

“I went to Flourish and Blotts, but there were too many people who wanted to talk to me and ask me questions and get my autograph, so I went to Gringotts, changed my money, and went into Muggle London. I thought you might like a Mars bar.”

Harry had already unwrapped one and bitten into it. Hermione smiled as she watched him chew. It was the first real smile he’d seen from her that day. When he could answer, he said, “thank you.”

“It’s been so long since I’ve bought books that weren’t for school. Thank you for lending me the money.”

“You don’t have to ever pay me back; it’s a gift.”

“Thank you then for the gift.” She pulled out a thick book about brain chemistry and memory and another smaller paperback fell out with it. The paperback featured a shirtless blond man in a cowboy hat on a horse, both of them improbably muscled. The title splashed across it read, 'Untamed Bronco.' Hermione blushed and stuffed it back into her bag.

“That’s for later, since Ron’s gone,” she said. Harry laughed.

She tapped the book about the brain.

“I want to see how Muggle and Wizard view the brain and memory and where they agree and disagree. We might be different, actually different physically than Muggles.”

Harry picked up the book and flipped it to a random page. He didn’t understand more than a quarter of it.

“Does this make sense to you?” he asked, pointing out a passage. She read it and nodded.

“I’ll have to look up other resources, but I can muddle through it.” She took the book back and put it in the bag.

Harry suddenly remembered. “Oh, Luna came by today. She was really upset that her father had run the story about you. She said she tried to stop him and he wouldn’t listen. She also said she was sorry she didn’t believe you about the Erumpent horn and that she knows now it had to be an Erumpent horn from the damage.”

“That makes me feel better,” Hermione said after a long pause.

“I’d never seen Luna so upset before, but Ginny said it was a lot like when they were fighting with the DA while we were on the run. She knew somehow, in her Luna-like way, that you were going back to Hogwarts and Ron wasn’t and that you wouldn’t accept an engagement right now. You know how she is; she notices stuff.”

“Yeah, she does,” Hermione said after another long pause. She wiped her eye, which was tearing up again.

“I’m going back to my room now. Thanks again, Harry; I needed the day out.” She got up to leave. He caught her arm.

“You want company?”

She shook her head, leaned over and kissed him on the forehead.

“I’ve got Untamed Bronco.”

He let go of her arm. She left, closing the door behind her.

The rest of July passed in a warm haze until the week of Harry’s birthday. Hermione went back to Diagon Alley and Muggle London several times to buy more books and she visited St Mungo’s to talk to the Healers there. Harry spent the time practising Quidditch with Ginny when he wasn’t helping with the housework, gardening, feeding animals and all the other work around the Burrow. The day before his birthday Parvati Patil came to visit and she spent a long time holed up in Hermione’s room. When she came down late in the afternoon, she didn’t say goodbye to Harry or Ginny and her makeup was streaked like she’d been crying.

After dinner, while washing up, Harry leaned over and whispered to Hermione, “Everything okay with Parvati?”

Hermione glanced around to make sure no one else was in the kitchen.

“She’s going back to Hogwarts with Padma and she was a bit…” Hermione paused, searching for a word.

“Scared? Freaked out? Hesitant?” Harry asked.

“A bit of each, but also worried about…um…us?” Hermione’s whisper was very small.

“Ah,” Harry said, not knowing what else to say. The Map had given up Hermione’s secrets about her and Parvati a long time ago. Hermione knew Harry knew, but they’d never really talked about it. Harry knew that Ron knew and that Hermione and Ron had come to some agreement about it, but it wasn’t his business.

“I told her I wasn’t sure and we’d just have to see. I’ll come by your room later?”

Harry nodded and they finished the washing up. He was practising duplication Charms when Hermione knocked and he told her to come in.

She closed the door behind her and silenced it.

“Look, I know you know about Parvati and me and you’ve never pressed me on it.”

“None of my business and Ron seemed to be okay with whatever you two had decided, so I stayed out of it.”

She sat on his bed and he watched her from the desk chair.

“Thank you for that,” she said after a long pause.

“The thing with Parvati is…complicated but simple, I guess.”

“You don’t have to explain; I get it. You were lonely and scared and took comfort from each other. You’re not the only ones.” Harry got up and sat next to her on the bed and put his arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him.

“Yes, it was that and you’re right, others did the same.” She met his eyes. “Ginny told me about her and Luna and her and Neville, but it’s not exactly the same.”

“You don’t owe me any explanation,” Harry said.

“No, but I just want you to understand how it was. It wasn’t just about being scared and lonely. I needed someone to talk to who wasn’t you or Ron, someone…” she struggled for words again.

“Female?” Harry suggested and she shook her head then shrugged and snorted a single laugh.

“Maybe, but no…um, I don’t know how to say it without hurting your feelings.”

“Just spit it out, pretend you’re Luna.”

“I needed someone around my intellectual level, or maybe just more empathetic that I could talk to.”

Harry blinked then laughed genuinely.

“You’re not angry?” Hermione asked.

“Just a tiny bit, but I know that Parvati is much more your intellectual equal. But, why not Padma, then?” He was mostly joking.

“Because I didn’t share a dorm with her, so it would have been much harder to sneak into her bed to talk and snog.”

“Yeah, I can see that.”

Hermione sighed.

“This has been so heavy for so long. I knew you knew, but I didn’t know how to talk to you about it.”

“So what’s up between you and Ron right now, just so I don’t step in it?” Harry squeezed her to him. He felt tears start to soak through his shirt and kissed the top of her head.

“We’re being open right now. Either of us can see other people, but we’ll still try to be together, maybe. I just think we’re going different ways. School loves don’t always follow you after school and sometimes it just doesn’t work. I do love Ron, but I don’t know if I want to be married to him and live that family life with two kids and the white picket fence. I want…I want more, something different, to make a difference in a bigger way.”

“I get it. I think I want the opposite now. I want smaller. I just want to go back to school and have a normal year and be with my girlfriend. I think I do want that family and the small life, but I want you to always be a part of it, to. Friends always?” Her tears increased on him and his eyes started watering, too.

“Yeah, friends always,” she snuffled then laughed again.

“I’m tired of crying. I’m going to spend some time reading and then go to bed. Are you sneaking off to Ginny’s room tonight?” She elbowed him, sat up and wiped her eyes.

“Not tonight; I think Molly wants us to cool it a bit.”

“All right, see you in the morning.”

“Goodnight.”

She left and he lay back on his bed for a long time, picturing the quiet family life with Ginny and their children. What Hermione had said about school loves made him think and he hoped Ginny wanted the same thing. He vowed to talk to her about it tomorrow. He looked at his watch and realised that it was now today and it was his birthday. He got up and crept down to Ginny’s room. He didn’t knock and when he came in she was asleep with her hair pulled up in a knot. He sat down on the chair and watched her for a few minutes, then slipped into bed next to her. She stirred sleepily and slid over. He spooned up against her and soon her breathing lulled him into sleep also.

They woke up to noises in the hallway, obviously Arthur getting ready for work.

Harry kissed the back of her neck which elicited a shiver from Ginny.

“Good morning, love,” she said and turned around in his arms to kiss him.

“Good morning,” he said and kissed her again.

“I thought we’d decided to take a bit of a break to get Mom off our backs a bit?” she asked.

“Yeah, but something Hermione said last night bothered me.”

She arched an eyebrow at him and he knew it meant to go on.

“She said she wasn’t sure she wanted the quiet family life with kids and that she wanted to do something that made a difference and I knew that I do want the quiet family life and I want it with you. I know you want to play Quidditch and maybe I do, too, but after, can you picture us with kids, happy, doing good but not vitally important jobs?”

“Yeah, not seven kids of course, but two or three. Are you proposing, Harry?” She gave him a light kiss.

“Not officially, but I did want to make sure we were on the same page. I wanted to make sure this was…I don’t know, serious? For you too.”

“Very serious,” she said and slid her hand behind his neck to pull him in tighter.

“I love you. I’ve loved you for a long time and now that I’ve got you, I’m not going to let you go. I do want to marry you, not now, but when we’re done with school. I do want children, your children, but not for a while either.”

“Good,” he said, his voice muffled because she had his head tightly pulled into her chest.

“I should get ready for the day,” he said and started to pull back.

“Oh, no. Now that you’re here, you might as well get part of your birthday present, but you’ll have to be quiet, okay?” She slipped her hands into his pyjama bottoms and slid them off, then disappeared under the blanket. Harry had a hard time staying silent and eventually she had to stuff her knickers in his mouth to keep him quiet.

[emeritusemeritus]

Charming Witches [Fred Weasley]

Title: Charming Witches [Fred Weasley]

Pairing: PregnantWife!Reader x Fred Weasley, background Hermione X Ron.

Timeline: Set after canon (Fred lives!)

Summary: Ron has an embarrassing issue and unluckily for him, Fred is the only one that can help.

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy, babies, established relationships. Sexual references throughout. Fred has a bit of a breeding kink- shock. Just a silly little drabble I couldn’t get out of my mind. Fred is a bit mean and sarcastic to Ron.

Word count: 1.6k

"You're, you know... well, sort of, um."

"You'll get there eventually Ronald," Fred jokes with a straight face, half listening to his brother's whispered fumbles whilst he pours himself and his wife a drink, not bothering to offer his youngest brother one. If Fred had even bothered to look at Ron's face, he'd have seen he was as pink in the cheeks as a bottle of love potion, his blush so vivid that he looked ready to erupt with a face full of dragon pox any moment.

Ron clears his throat, trying again, as he casts a nervous glance around the Burrow's kitchen, checking no one was hearing this. He didn't know why he'd chosen Fred of all people to have this conversation with, in theory George would have been a much better choice but he didn't have the same 'qualifications' as his twin, seeing that you and Fred had been together for absolutely years.

"Well, umm," he freezes under Fred's quick but glance, silently telling him to spit it out. "Well you and y/n, you're in sync aren't you... Sexually?"

Whatever Fred was expecting to hear eventually tumble out of his brother's mouth was not even close to the reality and he can't stop his eyebrows from shooting halfway up his forehead instinctively in disbelief.

"Did my very pregnant wife give it away?" He snarks, leaning against the counter and taking a sip of the beer he'd poured, openly enjoying the discomfort his brother was radiating. "That might have been your first clue."

Ron somehow looks paler underneath all the blushing and Fred is revelling in his ability to make his brother squirm.

"Well, yeah I suppose," Ron mumbles, beginning to get defensive and deeply regretting opening up to the trickier twin.

"Calm down Ronald," Fred says, "you and Granger having bedroom troubles?"

"No!" Ron bites back a little too quickly but his resolve breaks under a few seconds of Fred's probing gaze, arms folded in an unconscious power stance. "Maybe."

He's quiet again for a few moments and Fred is uncharacteristically patient whilst he waits for Ron to collect his thoughts.

"How many times would you say is normal, like in a week?"

"Don't know if there's a 'normal' Ronniekins," Fred says with a shrug. "Most days and twice on a Sunday?"

Though he hides it this time, Fred revels in the look of utter horror Ron's eyes convey and it's like he can see the cogs in his brain working on overdrive, emitting smoke as they crumble and break. Evidently, his answer was light years away from what Ron had hoped for. He knows that his wife being ready to pop at any second only helps Ron believe his words and he mentally thanks Godric Gryffindor himself for the overly fortunate timing.

"Don't think it matters mate really; as long as you're both expecting about the same." This time, Fred actually thinks he's being reassuring.

"She just wants to read all the bloody time, even in bed! It's like I'm a bloody afterthought."

"Have you even met your girlfriend?"

This time it's Fred who pauses when he meets the icy glare of his younger brother. He sighs and a slightly awkward silence falls between the pair as they both try to think of how to fix whatever was going on in Ron's mind, hoping that two head were better than one.

"You two alright?"

Ron jumps out of his skin when he hears your slightly concerned greeting upon seeing the two brothers, Fred especially, in near silence.

"Don't tell me you forgot I was here," you joke to Ron, walking over to Fred as he holds out your waiting drink. "Been your sister in law for five years! Plus the bump makes me pretty memorable," you add with a smile.

"I'll say," Fred says with a wink, the cheeky glint in his eyes ever more sparkling as he looks at your bulging tummy, unashamedly ogling your pregnant form. You gently nudged him, silently telling him to be quiet but as you do so, you catch a slightly glare aimed at your husband from Ron.

"Am I interrupting? " You ask outright, sensing tension.

"No," says Fred almost immediately.

"A bit," Ron admits, cringing slightly before he lets out a loud yelp, having been smacked upside the back of the head by his older brother for his disrespect. He grumbles slightly under his breath, absently rubbing the back of his head where Fred's hand had connected to him and let's put a deep sigh.

"You're a girl," he says, averting his eyes anywhere except directly on your own.

Fred snickers at Ron's feeble and clumsy attempt at starting the conversation but opts to take a long swig of his beverage to avoid anymore laughter spilling out, though his delight still shines through his eyes.

"Only when it's not a full moon," you jest, trying to slice through the awkwardness Ron is emitting.

"Forget it, you're as bad as he is."

"Firstly I'm offended," you say, reaching out for his arm gently as you feel his begin to pull away, ignoring your husband's opposition. "Secondly, yes I'm a girl... go on."

"Well," he pauses, gathering courage, long ginger lashes covering his shy eyes that still raise no further than your ankles, "say Fred suddenly didn't want sex."

"Wouldn't happen."

"Fred shush."

"Well... say suddenly he wanted to read at nighttime over having sex."

"Again, wouldn't happen."

"Fred!" You hush him again, this time more firmly.

"How would you go about trying to, you know, fix it."

You were certain you'd never seen Ron this vividly pink in the cheeks before, he looked like he'd been decorated up to display in Umbridge's office.

"That's the problem? Hermione wants to read instead of sex?" You ask, not really seeing the big issue, but trying to say it gently so that you didn't spook him.

He nods, "but it's all the time," he adds, justifying his gripe.

"Well," you say, lowering yourself into Arthur's seat at the head of the kitchen table only a few feet away, unable to stand much longer. "Play her at her own game."

"Eh?" The brothers ask in sync, their faces scrunched into an almost identical confused expression. You simply shrug.

"Make yourself less available to her, pull back a bit," you say, taking a sip of your drink to wet your lips. "Start reading in bed just like she does, act like you're not interested in just sex."

"So I act like I'm not bothered even though I am?" He asks, still not following what you're saying.

"Sort of," you say, trying to find a better way of wording it.

"Reading's always been her favourite thing to do hasn't it? Join in on it. I'd bet on my life that she has a fantasy of you in bed shirtless reading beside her. Stop making advances, let her come to you."

"That's actually quite clever," he says after a few moments of consideration.

"It's been known."

"Shirtless?" He asks with a frown, seemingly fixating on that point.

You chuckle nodding, "well you have to still appeal to her, you don't want it to just be a study session do you?"

"Right, right," he says with a nod, a slight smile returning to his face before it dramatically falls away in an almost comedic move.

"I don't have a book."

"What do you mean you don't have a book?" Fred says in a flabbergasted manner, earning a slight but unconscious raise of your eyebrow. Though you didn't comment on the irony of his words considering you couldn't remember the last time you'd seen him so much as skim the daily prophet.

"I don't really have one," Ron mumbles quietly, "unless my quidditch annual counts."

"It doesn't," you say firmly.

"So I need a book," Ron says firmly, as if he was cementing the plan in his mind, nodding along with his thoughts until he finally makes eye contact. "Thanks y/n," he says with a smile and a nod of his head before he walks away, a bounce in his step.

"Think it's actually gonna work?" Fred asks as you pry yourself out of the chair and walk to stand next to him as you place your empty cup in the sink.

You let out a little chortle and shrug, "well if it doesn't, at least Hermione can read in peace."

Laughter bursts out of Fred and he pulls you close, bump nestled between you as he delights in your words, realising you had absolutely no idea if the plan would work.

Later that evening when everyone was preparing to leave the Burrow after another wonderful family dinner, Ron pulls you and Fred to one side before he left, away from the eyes and ears of everyone else.

"Thanks again for earlier," he says, clearly feeling more at ease about his issue. You smile warmly in reply, happy to help.

"No problem little brother," Fred beams, as if it was him that had offered any advice.

"Oi Ron," you call out quietly to get his attention as he turns to leave. With a smile, you reach down into the bag on your shoulder and pull out an item you'd gleefully searched for in Fred and George's old bedroom after the conversation. "Just incase my advice doesn't work."

Ron frowns reaching for the item you were handing him, a frown that only deepens as he reads the title of the book he was now holding. Fred's laughter is sudden and booming as his eyes land on the once familiar item that had him cracking up laughing, realising instantly what it was.

Twelve fail-safe ways to charm witches.

"Oh piss off."

Taglist part 1

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[harrysmmm]

𝑵𝒐𝒕 𝒉𝒊𝒎, 𝒚𝒐𝒖 | 𝒅.𝒎

Draco Malfoy x Y/N (f!reader)

Setting: Harry Potter and the Half-blood Prince

Summary: where Draco has had a crush on you since forever, but you were dating Harry, until you two break up.

A/N: I wrote this in a day. Hope you like it! I might make a part two if you want it :) happy reading!

W/C: 4.6K

masterlist here

“But I am in love with you Y/N!”

“We’re always fighting Harry; it’s actually getting too much at this point.”

You and Harry had been dating since fourth year, when he asked you to the Yull Ball, but you’d had a crush on each other since you met. However, since fifth year, when the Order of the Phoenix was created within Hogwarts and Harry became more dedicated to Voldemort’s pursue, things had gotten out of hand between you two. You were constantly getting into arguments – Harry not communicating anything with you and you having to rip the thoughts out of him. You felt like you came as Harry’s last priority and although you had much love for him, you were sick of the ongoing difficult tension between the two of you.

“It’s not because we fight a lot that it means I don’t love you, Y/N,” Harry exclaimed.

You were both in Harry’s dorm, everyone having dinner at the Great Hall.

“But it does Harry, it does!” you added. “I understand you’re going through a lot but you’re always rude towards me, you don’t talk to me about anything that is going on and you expect me to know what to say to you, what to do all the goddamn time, I’m done!”

“Fine! We’re done then! Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to bed – you know where to find the door,” he said getting in bed as if you weren’t standing there.

“You’re unbelievable. Good fucking night.” You slammed the door behind you and left to your dorm.

You spent the night crying under the sheets – heartbroken by the person you had loved the most.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

“Y/N the Sopophorus bean shouldn’t be added now,” Hermione told you.

“Huh?” You were too distracted with glancing at Harry that Potions’ class was put on the background.

“Okay, that’s it, you need to stop looking at Harry. In fact, you need to stop everything that includes Harry,” she snapped at you.

You didn’t say anything because you knew it was true.

“It has been a month since you broke up, Y/N. And fine, Ron and I can deal with you both not talking to each other but you need to seriously start moving on.”

“Okay, okay, no need of a lecture.”

“What’s gotten into you today? You’re looking at him more than usual.” Hermione looked at Harry who was also looking at their direction. “And he’s looking at you more than usual.”

“It’s not the time, Hermione. I think Draco can hear us,” you whispered. Draco was always sitting behind you two.

“He’s focused on the potion, he’s not listening. Tell me,” Hermione said, seeing Draco carefully stirring the potion.

“Well, I don’t know if he’s told you, but I know he’s dating someone. I saw them both making out by the lake yesterday.”

Hermione didn’t know what to say.

“But that’s not the worst part. The worst part is who he’s dating,” you continued.

“Who?” Hermione asked, very shocked by the turn of events.

You stared at her before saying it. “Ginny.”

Hermione didn’t say a word, speechless about the confession.

“Yep,” you simply said, going back to the potion in front of you both.

It was a wild twist in the story because Ginny, Hermione and you were very close, and Ginny had been one of the girls that had comforted you since the breakup. The moment you saw both of them snogging you felt like something died within you. Not only because it clearly stated that Harry had moved on from you, but also that one of your best friends had been lying and pretending in front of you for no one knew how long. You hadn’t talked to Ginny and the tension between you and Harry had majorly grown since.

Hermione and you continued to work on the potion, unaware of the fact that Draco had heard every single word of the conversation.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Draco had been in love with you since he set foot at Hogwarts. Long before he knew what love meant and how it felt, he had tried to impress you indirectly, by flying up to the sky with Neville’s personal belongings, by applying for Quidditch’ seeker position, by walking up to Hagrid’s hippogriff and trying to ride it, by facing up Potter when he became a Triwizard champion and had asked you to the Yull Ball and by applying to Umbridge’s little inquisitory group to try and dismantle the order. He did all that for you, and although you were totally unaware of the boy’s feelings, he didn’t know of any other way to get to you. In his mind, you were absolutely unreachable. He was aware of how other boys in class talked about you – because needless to say, you had been categorized as the prettiest girl in class. Draco’s enmity with Harry had developed because of Draco’s jealousy on your relationship with him. You had been a close friend of the chosen one since first year, and even Professors had always thought that you two would make a lovely couple. Draco had had to bear the flirtatious looks of you and Harry during class; how you would clap at him when he was about to catch the snitch during a match; how you would kiss him at the Great Hall during breakfast; how you would both giggle together running through the hallways of the castle; how you would become very worried when Harry was told to face detention by Umbridge. But even if Draco knew that he didn’t really exist for you despite of all his acts, he couldn’t forget about you because you were the only light that he felt he had in his life. The thought of you loving him one day was what kept him living each day that went by. He would constantly daydream about you before bed, during class, in the Slytherin common room, during lunch – he was just so enamored by you. However, deep down he felt like he didn’t deserve you, that was the ultimate reason to why he had never approached you. And all his jealousy, fury and sadness tended to be projected onto Potter, the boy that had conquered your heart.

He had overheard your conversation with Hermione during Potions. He had seen your light diminish since the breakup but the day you had told Hermione you had caught Harry with Ginny, he had seen you at your worst. He couldn’t comprehend how Potter had treated you so poorly during the last year of your relationship and how he could’ve gone behind your back kissing the Weasley girl. He felt so protective over you he decided to confront Harry by the lake, where he knew he could find him snogging with Ginny.

“Potter and a Weasley. Pathetic. Does your brother know about this, red-hair?”

“Malfoy, get the fuck out of here,” said Harry, looking for his wand in his pocket.

“You,” he talked to Ginny. “You should be ashamed of how pathetic you are as a friend. Does Y/L/N know about this?”

Ginny didn’t respond knowing he was right.

“That’s it, septum-” Harry started saying, being interrupted by Draco.

“Expelliermus!” Draco unarmed Harry.

Harry approached Draco and they both started to fight with each other physically. Draco punched Harry on the nose but before he could leave Harry kicked Draco, the latter falling on the ground.

They didn’t stop until they were both incapable of getting up.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

“Will you stop eating?!” asked Hermione to Ron, hitting him with a book. “Your best friend is missing!”

“Oi! Turn around, you lunatic” said Ron, seeing Harry enter the Great Hall.

He sat down in front of Hermione with a bleeding nose and bleeding wounds everywhere.

“Where have you been?” asked Hermione.

“Nowhere,” replied Harry.

You were sitting down a few seats away from the scene, wondering what in the world had happened to Harry. The answer was revealed when a certain bleached one entered the Great Hall, also bleeding.

“What happened Harry? Did you fight with Malfoy?” asked Hermione, having seen the blonde’s entrance.

“He was looking for it,” replied Harry.

Hermione looked over at you worried. You shrugged your shoulders in response. Hermione looked back at Harry.

“Harry, you should report this to Professor McGonagall.”

Harry didn’t reply and kept eating. Hermione looked back at you worried. You mouthed to her “I got this”. You thought Malfoy’s rivalry with Harry had cooled down that year but based on what had happened that afternoon you were worried it had something to do with the conversation you had had with Hermione during Potions’ class, even if you didn’t know why.

Dinner ended and students started to periodically get up from their seats and head towards their common rooms. You waited until Draco got up and followed him through the hallways. When no one was with you two, you called him.

“Malfoy!”

He turned around and looked at you, only to look away and keep walking.

You ran up to him.

“I want to talk to you,” you said.

“Why?” he replied, still not looking at you and walking straight.

“Can we stop for a second and talk? I can’t keep up your pace.”

He stopped and looked at you annoyed.

“What?” he repeated.

“I know you got into a fight with Harry.”

He rolled his eyes and kept walking.

“What happened, exactly?” you asked, running after him.

He didn’t reply.

“Draco!”

He stopped when you said his name.

“Why do you wanna know, Y/L/N?”

“I know you two were leaving each other alone until today. I wanna know why you fought.”

“Why don’t you ask your boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend anymore. We don’t talk.”

“That’s not my fucking problem,” he replied.

“Did you hear anything I told Hermione during Potions?”

Draco startled but tried to hide it. You still noticed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied.

“Then why did you two fight?”

“I’m getting bored of this conversation already.” He kept walking.

“Fine, just so you know, if you did it for what I said during Potions class, that was not the way to go,” you said, still standing up. He kept walking. “But thank you nonetheless.”

He kept walking, still having heard your words. A smirk got on his face as he walked towards his common room.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

A week later, you were eating in the Great Hall with Hermione.

“Have you already confronted Ginny about the whole thing?” Hermione asked you.

“No, not yet, have you?”

“Of course not, I don’t wanna get mingled,” she replied.

You looked up and saw Draco walking through the corridor. His eyes met yours as he sat down for lunch.

“How could Harry be so insensitive? And how come Ginny never talked to you before anything happened?” Hermione was still ranting about it – your gaze was still on Draco, as was his.

You didn’t know what had exactly changed since the day you talked to him but suddenly his eyes were speaking to you and you found yourself intrigued by his presence.

He looked away from you and focused on what his friend was telling him.

You engaged in conversation with Hermione.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

You were studying for a Transfiguration test out on the grass field. You were trying to turn a cup into a flower but the more you tried, the less it seemed to work. You knew that you needed to have a calmed mind in order to work but you couldn’t stop overthinking Harry’s thing with Ginny and your encounter with Malfoy.

In the distance, you saw Draco walking down gripping on some books. He saw you studying but quickly looked away. You debated in your head whether you should go up to him but you thought you’d look stupid without having anything to say, so you decided not to.

You noticed another boy was also looking at you. He came towards you.

“Hi, Y/N” Harry said.

“Hey, Harry” you replied, without looking at him.

“Hum… I just came to apologize,” he mumbled.

“For what?” you asked.

“You know for what,” he replied.

“There’s nothing to apologize for, Harry. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to study.”

“Always making things so difficult, I’m trying to do the right thing here,” he finally said, getting pissed.

“Are you though? Because as far as I know the right thing had to be done months ago, now it’s not the time Harry!”

“You don’t know what I’ve had to bear with-”

“You never bothered to share it with me in the first place!”

“It’s not that simple Y/N.”

“Nothing is ever simple with you Harry.”

“Hasn’t she told you to go, Potter?” Draco appeared behind Harry.

Harry turned around. “What do you want, Malfoy?”

“I have a pending conversation with Y/L/N. Besides, this is not your yard, scar head.”

“Whatever,” Harry looked back at you. “Enjoy your time with Malfoy.” He left.

“What was that for?” you asked Draco.

“He was being a git, can’t bare it.”

You stayed in silence and looked at his books. “You wanna… perhaps… study with me?”

He looked at you for a few seconds. “I’m good.” He also left.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

It was one a.m. at night – you couldn’t sleep, your mind going back to different moments of the last few months. You decided to get up and head to the kitchen. You had befriended some of the elves and as they were cleaning up maybe they could give you a cup of hot milk. You went down the stairs, exited the common room and walked through the hallways. While you were walking, someone carrying a torch approached you.

“What are you doing here?” Malfoy was standing in front of you.

“I could ask you the same thing,” you replied, still bothered he ditched you the other day.

“I am patrolling. I am a prefect,” he replied.

Right. You had forgotten about that. “I was just going to get a glass of milk.”

“Where?”

“To the kitchen,” you simply replied.

“Students don’t go to the kitchen. Especially at this time of the night,” Draco said, with disgust on his face.

“Draco, I just want a glass of milk. I can’t sleep,” you tried to convince him.

“You’re not going to the kitchen, Y/L/N,” he directly said. “Don’t make me give you detention.”

“Fine,” you replied, turning around. “Thanks for your help, Malfoy.”

“Anytime Y/L/N,” he replied.

When you had left his sight, you turned to another corridor that also led to the kitchen. You were going down the stairs when suddenly you heard a voice behind you.

“Do you think I’m stupid or what?” Draco snapped at you.

“I’m going to bed!” you lied.

“That’s not the way to your bed, Y/N/L, unless you’re sleeping in the Slytherin dorms – which you’re not.”

“Who says I’m not?” you teased.

Draco looked at you being fed up.

“You’re not a Slytherin.”

“That doesn’t matter. I can still sleep there.”

“Where exactly?”

“That’s none of your business,” you replied.

“It is because you’re lurking in the hallway at one fucking a.m. in the morning!”

“You told me to go to bed, I’m going to bed!” you replied, slightly having fun with the conversation.

“That’s not the way to your bed!”

“I’m sleeping with someone!”

“Who?” he asked.

“A Slytherin,” you replied.

“Who?” he repeated.

“You don’t know him.”

“Oh, I can assure you if he’s a Slytherin I do know him.”

“His name is Tom.” You couldn’t think of any other name.

“Well, either way, I’m not letting you go sleep in someone else’s room.”

“But I won’t tell, I swear.”

“You just want your glass of milk and you’ve made up a whole story to convince me,” he ended up saying.

“Please Draco, I’m really thirsty.”

He sighed. “I am going with you then. If you get on my nerves I’m calling Snape, Y/L/N. And don’t lie to me again,” he finally said, giving up.

“Thank you Draco, really appreciate it.”

He went down the stairs with you, and headed towards the kitchen. The elves had already left.

“Alright, go grab the milk and we go,” he said, leaning over the counter.

You started looking for the milk in different cupboards until you found it. You grabbed a cup and poured yourself some milk.

“Don’t you have to patrol with Pansy?” you asked him.

“Why are you asking questions?”

“I’m curious. I thought you had to patrol with another prefect,” you replied.

“Well yeah, but it doesn’t necessarily have to be the one in the same house as you. I’m patrolling with Weasley tonight but each of us go our separate ways.”

“I didn’t know Ron was patrolling tonight,” you added, realizing how long it had been since you had talked to Ron after the incident with Harry.

“I assume you’re still not talking to Potter,” he added.

“Nope. Not missing it either.”

“I have to ask, how is that you dated him? What did you see in him?” Well, that was an interesting question coming from Malfoy. “I can’t imagine dating someone like Potter, what a twat.”

“Well, I fell in love, I guess. I mean, he’s good looking, brave, passionate-”

Draco laughed. “Pff, sure thing.”

“And why is that you two hate each other so much?” you asked him in return.

“He’s always going around as if the world belongs to him for being the chosen one.”

“Don’t you do the same though?” you asked.

He startled. “No, I’m the one who puts him on his place.”

“He could say the same about you,” you added.

“What are you guys talking about?” Ron appeared in the kitchen. “I heard some noises, I thought they were first years out of bed.”

“Just came down to the kitchen to give Y/L/N some milk, she couldn’t sleep.”

“Since when do you do that for anyone, Malfoy?” asked Ron.

“I’ll suggest you keep your mouth shut, Weaslebee,” he replied.

“Well, I’m done here guys, so if you’ll excuse me I’ll go to bed now.”

“Go with her, I don’t trust her a bit,” Draco said to Ron.

“Good night Draco,” you said to him before leaving.

“Whatever,” he replied.

Once you were out of sight, he let himself relax again. Even if he showed the opposite, that had been one the best moments he had experienced in at least the last year.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

It was Christmas break, you were in the Hogwarts Express to go back home. You were sitting in a wagon with Hermione talking to you about the past exams but all you could think about was Draco. You were constantly replaying in your mind what happened in the hallways at night when you two bumped into each other and you were slightly convinced he also had a crush on you by the way he acted. The urge to see him was so intense that you told Hermione you were going to buy something to eat and left the wagon.

You went to the Slytherin wagon and found him sitting down with Blaise and Pansy, two of his friends. You walked through the corridor to the other side of the wagon, peripherally having a look at him. You noticed he was also looking at you.

“This is not your wagon, Gryffindork” Pansy told you as you were passing.

“I’m just passing through,” you replied.

“Right.”

You hoped that Draco would say something but nothing came out of his mouth. You turned back and left the wagon.

What a prick. After all, he was still a pureblood Slytherin, and one of the worst kind, what were you thinking?

You went back to your wagon.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

It was the day that students came back from Christmas break to Hogwarts. You had spent a lovely holiday with your family and you felt ready to face whatever was about to happen. Whatever except for what happened.

“Y/N, I miss you.” Harry was standing in front of you in the hallway.

“What?” you replied.

“I’ve been giving our situation some thought and realized I acted as a prick with you and wanted to amend things.”

“Aren’t you with Ginny?”

“We haven’t talked during the break,” he replied.

“Well, I’m not some kind of rebound, Harry.”

“No, of course not. That’s not what I meant.”

“Besides, I like someone else now.” It was painful to say but it was true. You were over the hills for a certain blonde.

“Who?” he asked.

“It’s none of your business, Harry.”

“Y/N, we can work it out.”

“No, we can’t. We’re done Harry, you need to move on.”

He stood up as you left. The whole situation had given you a sense of control that had made you feeling unstoppable. You felt this urge of confessing, for some odd reason. It had felt to so good to state out loud what you felt for Draco that now the only person that was left to tell was him. You didn’t really think of what his reaction could be, you just wanted to spread the word to him.

You roamed in the hallways looking for his face until minutes later you spotted him with Blaise and Pansy. You walked up to him.

“Malfoy.”

Pansy and Blaise, as well as Draco, looked surprise.

“What?” he replied.

“Can I talk to you, in private?” Blaise and Pansy looked at each other, confused.

Draco just sighed and stood up – both of you going to a quieter and more intimate place.

“What’s going on Y/L/N?” he asked you.

“Okay, so I’m about to say something to you. I don’t know how you’re going to feel about it, but I’m still taking the risk. Trust me, this comes as a surprise to me as well as it will come to you.”

“Alright,” he replied. “What is it?”

You sighed, your heartbeat being all over the moon.

“I like you, Draco.”

“What?” he said.

“I like you.”

“I heard you, but what does that mean?”

You started to feel the regret coming.

“I might have a crush on you.”

“You have a crush on me?” he repeated.

“That’s what I said, yep.”

“Alright.”

You stood in silence. “Alright?”

“Yeah, what do you expect me to say?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know.”

“Well, thank you for telling me. I’m going then.”

“Okay, see you.”

“Bye.”

You stood up there not understanding what had just happened.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

A month went by and you hadn’t talked to Draco again. You felt so ashamed about confessing to him that you had tried to avoid him at any cost. He had left you so pathetically that you couldn’t bare the thought of him knowing what you felt. It was eating you inside. You hadn’t told Hermione about the situation. Instead, you might’ve agreed on going out with Harry again. You just needed to show Draco (and yourself) that you weren’t desperately crying in a corner about what happened.

You started then dating Harry again.

You were walking down a hallway when you found yourself facing Draco. You looked down hoping to avoid him.

“Y/L/N,” he said to you.

“What?”

“Hadn’t seen you in a while, where have you been?”

“Around,” you replied.

“I’ve seen you’ve got back with scarhead.”

“Yeah.”

“I thought that was over for you.”

“Well, it’s clearly not,” you replied.

“Good,” he said.

You wanted to die at that exact moment. “Goodbye Malfoy.”

You left withholding some tears.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

It had been two months since the last time you had spoken to Draco. You were still dating Harry, trying to go back to how it used to be but things had profoundly changed within you. Your heart belonged to someone else.

You had gone to Hogsmeade to clear your thoughts. You were walking around the different stores and pubs until you saw Draco talking to Pansy in front of the Three Broomsticks. Something pounded in your heart when you saw how close they were. He saw you walking but didn’t engage in conversation.

An hour later you were tired of walking around and you were going back to the castle until someone stop you halfway.

“Y/L/N!” You turned around and saw Draco walking up to you. “What’s up?”

“Hi,” you replied.

“Enjoying the day?”

“Fairly,” you replied.

“You came alone? Where’s the funny trio?”

“I don’t know.”

“Not even the boyfriend came?”

“Do you see Harry anywhere nearby?” you snapped.

“Merlin, what has gotten into you?”

“Nothing.” You kept walking.

“Tell me, I’m curious.”

“I said nothing, Malfoy.”

He remained silent for a bit. “Is it because of what you told me a few months ago?”

“What did I tell you?”

“That you liked me.”

“Whatever,” you replied.

“You’re with Potter now, everything is fine, isn’t it?” he kept going.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Malfoy.”

“I mean, you were the one that got back with Potter, I don’t know what I’ve done in the story.”

“I said drop it,” you replied.

“Alright, alright,” he said, still walking by your side. “But if you want to tell me something, just say it.

You snapped. “Oh, so you’re expecting that I smile and laugh with you after I told you that I liked you and you literally left me standing there?”

“What did you want me to say? Besides, you got back with Potter!”

“You could’ve handled things differently!”

“Like how?”

“Like talking to me about how you felt, even if it was not reciprocated.”

“You didn’t ask me, you just told me you liked me, what do you answer to that?”

“You say something, you do something, for Merlin’s beard!” you exclaimed.

“Well now you’re with Potter, right?”

You didn’t answer.

“Because if you’re not, maybe we can talk about it.”

“Talk about what?” you asked.

“About us.”

Something lit up in you.

“What is it with us?”

“I don’t know, what do you want it to be?”

“Draco, stop asking me abstract questions.”

“I might want something with you, Y/N.”

You stopped and looked at him. “Something like what?”

“Like maybe dating, if that’s what you want.”

“You want to date me? Do you like me?”

“If I’m asking you to date me it’s because I like you, Y/N.”

“Since when?” you asked.

“I don’t really know.” He did know though, since you had said your first words in class almost.

“Are you sure about this?”

“Yes, why would I be fooling you?”

“I don’t know Draco, I don’t know.”

He got closer to you.

“So, what are you gonna do? Are you gonna date me or stay with Potter?”

You looked at him, he was partly smiling. You thought he was looking gorgeous.

“I like you, it’s not working between Harry and I,” you ended up saying.

“So you’re gonna break up with him?” he asked.

“Yes.” He couldn’t stop himself from smiling. He took both your hands and rubbed his thumb, caressing your fingers.

“I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time,” he said.

“Why didn’t you?”

“I never thought you felt the same.”

“But I told you I did.”

“I was too scared. Besides, you got with Potter so I thought you were in love with him.”

“Right, I’m not.”

He got closer to you, his lips approaching yours as he placed a short peck on them.

You laughed.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing,” you replied.

“Right.”

And that’s how you both went back to the castle, both your hands tangled with one another.

[httpvomitello]

That's My Girl *⁠.⁠✧

george weasley x f!reader

The Burrow was even cozier than George had described. It was alive with magic, warmth, and a kind of chaotic charm that you couldn’t help but find endearing—at least in theory. In practice, it was overwhelming. You weren’t used to so many people all talking, laughing, and bustling around at once. The whole Weasley family seemed to radiate energy, and being the shy, quiet person you were, it made you feel a bit out of place.

George must have noticed the way you lingered in the doorway, biting your lip and fiddling nervously with the hem of your sweater. He came back to you, his bright grin softening into something more tender as he took your hand.

“Alright, love?” he asked quietly, his thumb rubbing circles over your knuckles.

You nodded, though your heart was pounding. “I’m just… nervous. They’re all so…” You trailed off, searching for the right word.

“Loud?” George teased gently, leaning in so only you could hear. “Mad? A little too much?”

You couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh at that, and he kissed your forehead, his lips lingering just long enough to make your chest flutter. “They’ll love you, you know. But more importantly, I love you.”

Before you could answer, Fred’s unmistakable voice rang out from the kitchen. “Oi! Don’t hog her, George. Let the rest of us meet her properly!”

George groaned theatrically, but his arm stayed firmly around your waist as he guided you into the bustling kitchen. Molly Weasley was at the stove, her wand directing several pots and pans, while Arthur and Ron debated something enthusiastically at the table. Ginny was perched on a chair, laughing at something Hermione had said.

“Everyone,” George announced, his voice loud enough to carry but not so loud it made you flinch, “this is Y/N. Be nice. She’s already met Fred, so she knows just how insufferable we can be.”

Fred shot him a grin. “You’re the insufferable one, brother dear. Y/N and I got on splendidly.”

You smiled politely, but the sheer number of eyes on you made your palms sweat. Molly was the first to approach, pulling you into a motherly hug that smelled of cinnamon and something floral. “It’s so lovely to meet you, dear,” she said warmly, stepping back to look at you. “George hasn’t stopped talking about you.”

“Mum,” George groaned, though his cheeks were tinged pink.

From there, you were swept into introductions, handshakes, and quick, cheerful chatter. Everyone was kind, but it was still a lot—too many voices, too many questions, and too much noise for someone who thrived in quieter spaces. George must have noticed, because he stayed by your side the entire time, a steady, grounding presence.

At one point, during a particularly loud bout of laughter from Fred and Ron, you felt George’s arm tighten around your waist. He leaned down, his lips brushing your ear. “You’re doing amazing, love. Want to step outside for a bit? Get some air?”

You nodded, relief washing over you. George led you out into the garden, the cool evening air a welcome contrast to the heat and noise of the kitchen. Fireflies flickered in the twilight, and the sounds of the Burrow faded into the background.

George turned to you, his hands gentle on your arms. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you said, taking a deep breath. “It’s just… a lot. I didn’t want to seem rude.”

“You’re not rude,” he said firmly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re perfect. They love you already—I can tell. But if it’s too much, you don’t have to push yourself. I’ll stay out here with you as long as you want.”

His words made your chest ache in the best way. You looked up at him, his warm brown eyes filled with nothing but love and understanding, and you knew he meant every word.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

He smiled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “Anytime, love. Now, what do you say we stay out here for a bit longer? I’ll even let you laugh at Fred’s bad jokes from a safe distance.”

You laughed, and George’s grin widened.

The garden was a peaceful haven compared to the lively chaos inside. You could still hear snippets of conversation and laughter floating through the open kitchen window, but out here, the only things surrounding you were the gentle hum of crickets and the faint rustling of leaves in the breeze. George guided you to a wooden bench tucked under a trellis of climbing roses, and you sank into it gratefully.

He sat beside you, his arm draping over your shoulders as naturally as if it had always been there. The warmth of him, the familiar scent of his cologne, and the quiet hum of his voice as he started talking were all grounding.

“You know,” he began, his tone playful but soft, “when Fred and I first started our shop, we had to pitch the idea to Mum and Dad. Well, Fred did most of the talking because I froze up halfway through. I’m pretty sure I just stood there like a right idiot while he convinced them we weren’t about to blow up Diagon Alley.”

You blinked at him, surprised. “You got nervous? You?”

George chuckled, nudging you lightly with his shoulder. “Course I did. Just because I’m loud doesn’t mean I don’t get overwhelmed sometimes, too. Especially when something’s important.”

That admission made your heart squeeze. You tilted your head to rest against his shoulder, drawing comfort from the steady rhythm of his breathing. “It’s hard not to feel like I stick out,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “Your family is so… close and outgoing. And I’m—”

“Perfect,” George interrupted, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. “You’re exactly who I want to bring around them. Doesn’t matter if you’re quiet, loud, or anything in between. I’d drag you to a family dinner every night if I could.”

You let out a small laugh, and he grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “You’re good with words,” you teased lightly.

“Good thing, too,” he quipped, “otherwise, how else would I convince you to stick with me?”

The two of you stayed in the garden for a while longer. George plucked a rose from the trellis and tucked it behind your ear with a flourish, murmuring, “Beautiful,” before pulling you close again. The sound of distant laughter mingled with the chirping crickets, and for the first time that evening, you felt like you could breathe.

After a while, George leaned down so you could see the mischievous glint in his eye. “Think you’re ready to head back in? Or shall I tell them we’ve eloped and left for the continent?”

You laughed, the sound bright and light in the evening air. “I think we can handle a little more time inside.”

He smiled, kissed your knuckles, and stood, offering you his hand. “That’s my girl.”

Inside, the atmosphere was still loud and bustling, but somehow, it didn’t seem so overwhelming anymore. George kept you close, his hand entwined with yours as he steered you toward Ginny and Hermione, who were chatting in the corner. The two girls welcomed you warmly, and before you knew it, Ginny was sharing a funny story about the twins’ antics as children, Hermione chiming in occasionally to add her own observations. George stayed by your side, his arm brushing yours, but gave you enough space to engage in the conversation at your own pace.

At one point, Fred caught George’s eye from across the room and raised an eyebrow, clearly teasing. George grinned, a look of pure affection on his face as he glanced down at you. When Fred mouthed something that suspiciously looked like smitten, George didn’t even bother denying it. He just nodded, his thumb stroking your hand.

As the evening went on, the Weasleys began to settle into their usual routines. Molly started cleaning up the kitchen with Arthur’s help, Ginny and Hermione got into a lively debate about Quidditch teams, and Fred and Ron began a spirited chess match. You stayed close to George, and he stayed close to you, always making sure you were comfortable and never once leaving you to fend for yourself.

By the time the night wound down and George escorted you to the small guest room they’d prepared for you, you felt a surprising sense of belonging. He closed the door behind you and turned to you with a smile, his hands finding your waist.

“See? Survived the first Weasley gauntlet,” he teased, his voice low and playful.

You smiled, your nerves from earlier a distant memory. “Only because I had you.”

He leaned down, resting his forehead against yours. “You’ll always have me, love. Always.”

With a gentle kiss goodnight, George left you to rest while he went to take a shower and then come back to, according to him, go to sleep cuddling. As you lay in bed, the sound of the Burrow settling for the night in the background, you couldn’t help but feel like this place—and these people—might just feel like home someday.

[sheeple]

Miracles don't exist | Epilogue

Genre(s): Riddle!reader / Slytherin!reader / kinda slowburn / little happy moments Fandom(s): Harry Potter Pairing(s): Theodore Nott x Reader / Harry Potter x Riddle!reader Summary: Being the Dark Lord's daughter and raised under the strict supervision of the Malfoy's is no easy life. Especially if you start crushing on your father's arch-nemesis, Harry Potter. And that while being engaged to one of his follower’s sons. Warning(s): None A/n: It feels weird uploading the last part of the story. Shoutout to everyone who has been following the story — from the beginning and from the end. [Masterlist] [Mini masterlist] [Playlist]

It's dark around you. Dark and dingy and it vaguely smells of mould. It makes your nose itch. Every way you look is pitch black. Only when you focus really hard you spot a faint light in the distance. You start to walk towards it, in the hope of escaping. 

But the more your speed picks up, the farther the light goes. Until you're sprinting and the light is gone. You collapse on the ground and heave while tears start to pool in your eyes. 

You let out a scream and your voice echoes around you. Clutching your head tightly, you curl up into a ball and rock yourself back and forth. The silence of the void is all-consuming, swallowing you whole.

Your eyes open widely as your chest raises rapidly. Cold sweat runs down your temples and you turn your head, to look at your husband. Tired eyes look at you with concern. Knitting your brows together, you shuffle into his embrace. "Sorry for waking you up", you whisper, your voice wavering with sleep.

"Was it the same one?", he asks, stroking your back while his other hand takes hold of your hand, pressing kisses against the inside of your wrist, his lips ghosting around the Mark. He always does this when he wants to soothe you.

You hum and close your eyes. "It's been so calm lately." Clutching tightly onto the back of Theo's sleepshirt, you try your best to forget the memories.

The two of you know why your nightmares are resurfacing. It's the first time in years that you're back on British soil. The first time since the end of the war. 

Immediately when the end was declared, Theodore and you got your affairs in order and left Great Britain for Canada. You had to leave. England was never your home and you're happy now, with your little bookshop that caters to wizard and non-wizard kind. 

And the weirdest part is that you're back for Hermione and Ron's wedding. Yes, you've kept sending letters to Hermione — and when you finally got a computer communication got way easier — but you never expected her to want you to be at her wedding. A lot has changed in five years.

It was actually Theo who convinced you to go. "If not for the ceremony, then for the reception afterwards. Didn't you always say you two were friends?" He raises his brows with a teasing glint in his eyes and you know he's right. By now you've learned that he's almost always right. Almost.

You're lucky you've kept the cottage by the sea. It's the only happy thing about coming back. The sound of waves crashing against the shore calms you as you squeeze your eyes closed in the hope of going back to sleep. But it's no use. 

Once you hear the grandfather clock downstairs chime six times, you decide that you've laid awake enough and you slip out of bed. Making sure Theo's tucked in warmly, you put on your robe and make your way downstairs. 

You turn on the water cooker and start to prepare for breakfast, softly humming to yourself as the silence of the old house is jarring to you.

Over the years you've discovered that you don't do well with silence. Call it trauma from the war or just living in a bustling city, but not having any music on in the background makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up straight. And since you still have to buy a radio for the cottage, you have to make do with humming to yourself.

Two arms wrap around you from the back as Theodore buries his nose in the nape of your neck. He holds you close to his body as he watches you fry the eggs.

"Morning", you muse, laying a hand over his own. He grumbles while pressing butterfly kisses against your skin. A soft giggle escapes you as he stays clutched tightly around you while you plate up the food.

A disapproving hum gets muffled against your skin as you try to unfold his arms from you to have breakfast.

Then, an idea pops into your head. "I was thinking of taking a bath after breakfast. Do you want to join me?" You feel Theo halt his ministrations before quickly letting go and practically throwing himself in front of his breakfast.

"What are you standing there for?! Eat up!"

You're nervously chewing on the inside of your cheek as you walk towards the entrance of the tent, Theodore's hand clutched tightly in your own, grounding you.

The reception is beautifully lit with stars and fairy lights. Tables are spaced around and people mingle around. Off to the side stand Hermione and Ron, welcoming guests who haven't been at the ceremony.

Hermione's face lights up when she spots you and you hurry your steps towards her. The two of you hug for the first time in years and you can't wipe the wide smile off your face.

"Oh, how lovely you look!", you say once you've parted, admiring her beautiful wedding dress.

Hermione's glowing and the dress compliments her perfectly. The tule floats around her and sparkles under the lights.

"I'm so happy you came. We'll talk later, okay?", she says as the next guests enter the reception.

You nod and take Theo's hand to find the table you're assigned to. He pulls the chair out for you and you thank him with a smile. Slowly the table fills and the speeches begin.

First, it's Mr Granger. He tells about her growing up and the sacrifices she made during the height of the war to ensure her parents were safe. Then it's Mr Weasley, who gives a somewhat funny speech. He ends with the question of what a toaster does before he's ushered away from the mic.

And finally Harry. He still wears the same round glasses and his hair is also the same, although less unruly. Seeing him after such a long time makes you feel weird, how much you want to ignore the feeling.

Under the table, you feel Theo lay a hand on your thigh. When you look at him, he gives you a reassuring smile while squeezing your knee. You lay your hand over his own and continue listening to the other speeches.

Dinner gets served and you converse with the people around the table. That's how you discover you're seated with Hermione's cousin and a good friend from Ron's work.

Once dessert has been cleared, everybody's free to mingle around. "I'll get us something to drink from the bar. What do you want?", asks Theo as the two of you stand to the side, watching Hermione and Ron dance.

"Cola's fine. Thanks, babe." He gives you a quick peck before he's off to the bar.

You're not alone for long as someone slowly comes to stand next to you. Looking to the side, you're eye to eye with Harry. Your body tenses and you clench your hands to fists. "Hello."

"Hi", he answers back simply, clutching a glass of champagne tightly in his hands. "How have you been?"

"Good", you nod, praying that Theodore returns soon, "you know, just… living life. And you?"

Harry nods. "The same, honestly. I've been in the Auror force for almost five years now."

"Really? I've always thought you would get into teaching." You chew on the inside of your cheek, surveying the room.

After that, silence falls between the two of you. You're still not totally at ease next to Harry. It's been a while but the memories still haunt you.

Harry takes a sip of his champagne, watching Ron twirl and dip Hermione with wide smiles on their faces. "Did I ever have a chance?"

The question makes your stomach drop. "Yes", you answer after a moment or two, "but after- after sixth year- I was so afraid you would hurt me again, Harry. And that the next time, you would kill me." You swallow thickly, glancing at the bespectacled man next to you, gauging his reaction.

Harry looks shocked at your reaction and his hand reaches out but stops just short of your arm. it closes to a fist before dropping next to him. "I could never hurt you intentionally. I loved you too much… still do."

"Stop", you say while shaking your head, taking a couple steps away from him. "Stop it, Harry. You're with Ginny. And Teddy and I… We're a family." Subconsciously, you lay a hand on your stomach and Hary's eyes focus on the movement.

He takes a moment to realise what you're implying. "You're pregnant?", he asks bewildered. Something flashes through his eyes. Could it be… hurt?

As he takes a step towards you, you take one back. And praise the heavens, Theo comes back at the right time. "Potter", he says, giving you your glass and standing protected in front of you.

Harry relents and creates some distance between him and the two of you. "Nott. Congratulations on the pregnancy." It comes out forced. With one last flickering look towards you, he turns around and walks off.

You follow him until he is back at his label, taking place next to Ginny, who's already looking at you with an unreadable look. You must up a kind smile and wave towards her. Ginny does not return the gesture and turns her back towards you.

A deep breath escapes you and you take a large sip of your drink.

"What did he want?", asks Theo as he lays a hand on your hip.

You shake your head. "I'm not sure myself. Going here was a mistake, Teddy. Can we please just go?" You look up at your husband with pleading eyes.

Without hesitation, he nods and the two of you collect your belongings. You shoot Hermione a quick text as an apology saying you're not feeling too well and that you didn't want to bother her.

Once outside of the venue, you apparate back towards your home. With a sigh, you kick off your shoes and let yourself fall onto the bed. You look up at Theo as he undoes his tie. "I love you", you say, watching his face soften.

He walks closer towards the bed and drags you towards him by your ankles. You let out a giggle, sitting upright. He traces your face with his fingers before closing the gap and pressing his lips on yours. You close your eyes and hum into the kiss, pulling him closer by his neck.

When Theo breaks the kiss, he leans his forehead against yours. "I love you. The both of you."

Taglist (bold means I couldn’t tag you): @the0doreslover @lqndkxlmqma @st4rrry  @choppedpartymuffinwinner @ledtassoo @literallyobessed @lestat-whore​ @vanishingcherry @harrysnovia @pietrobae @ireallywannasleep127 @yeolsbubbles @fruityfrog505 @fluffybunnyu @theroyalmanatee @shinrjj @hegdus @kermits-bitch @m1kasawps @noah-uhhh-what @mypolicemanharryyy @fals3-g0d @decapitated-coffee @thatgirljas13 @slytherinambitious @raineisms @mastermindmiko @timmytime17 @regsg18 @supernatural-lover @bubybubsters @lafrone @hermionelove @the-sander-fander @akengii @aliciacat20 @unstablereader @burns-in-the-sun @rachelnicolee @damagelove @mqndrqke @llpovi @clairesjointshurt @222244445555 @jolly4holly @padf00ts-l0ver @fandom-life-12 @prettyb1tchsblog @pari-1 @f14ever @nopedefe @randomgurl2326 @rinalouu @yazminetrahan @ellen3101 @comfyvic

[milunalupin]

— twelve drummers drumming

ron weasley x reader ★ 1.1k words

twelve days of nico-mas masterlist

The Burrow was alive with Christmas cheer. The sound of crackling firewood, the smell of Mrs. Weasley’s famous Christmas dinner wafting from the kitchen, and the soft hum of Christmas carols played in the background. The cozy, mismatched furniture was scattered in the common room, adorned with twinkling fairy lights and colorful decorations. Outside, a light snow drifted down, blanketing the world in white. It was the perfect holiday scene, and yet, for Ron Weasley, it was a Christmas full of distractions.

Ron had been planning his gift for you for weeks now. He’d poured over every little detail, trying to find something that would show you how much he cared, but somehow, every time he tried to give it to you, something—someone—would interrupt.

You were sat near the fireplace, talking with Hermione and Harry. The warmth of the fire made your cheeks glow, and you were wrapped in one of Mrs. Weasley’s knitted scarves. You looked comfortable and content, oblivious to the flustered mess Ron had become over the past few hours.

Ron had been carrying the gift around for what felt like forever—a small, wrapped package tucked under his arm. It wasn’t much, just something he thought you'd love. He had spent weeks picking it out, trying to be thoughtful, and now all he needed was the perfect moment to give it to you.

The first attempt had come early in the evening when he had pulled you aside in the kitchen. He’d nervously cleared his throat and had been about to speak when Ginny had come barreling into the room, asking for more pie.

"Oi, Ginny!" Ron had groaned, his face turning pink. You had smiled politely, not thinking anything of it, but Ron had seen it as a failed attempt.

Later, as everyone gathered around the table for dinner, Ron had tried again, waiting for a moment when the conversation seemed to lag. But just as he’d taken a deep breath and turned toward you, Percy had started on a long-winded explanation about his work at the Ministry. Everyone had been too polite to interrupt, and your attention had shifted to Percy’s words, leaving Ron fidgeting with his gift once again.

Now, as everyone settled into the cozy common room, the clock ticking away towards midnight, Ron thought—this time, this time for sure. He took a deep breath, stood up from his chair, and began to make his way toward you. He was halfway across the room when Fred and George, who had been whispering excitedly to each other in the corner, suddenly sprang to their feet, shouting in unison, “Time for our Christmas game!”

“Not now, not now, not now…” Ron muttered under his breath, his hands curling tighter around the box. You turned to look at him, a curious smile on your face.

“What’s going on, Ron?” you asked sweetly.

He froze. “Nothing, nothing at all.” But the twins were already darting toward him, grinning like Cheshire cats.

“Come on, Ron! It’s tradition!” George said, grabbing his arm. “Everyone’s playing!”

You laughed, not thinking much of it. "Come on, Ron," you teased, "You can tell me after the game!"

Ron reluctantly agreed, though his heart sank. It wasn’t the moment he had envisioned, but at least it was something. The next few minutes were a blur of chaos as everyone jumped into the game of wizard’s charades—Hermione, Harry, Fred, and George all acting out ridiculous scenarios, much to the amusement of the group.

At one point, you caught Ron standing off to the side, looking like he was going to explode with frustration. His hair was tousled, his eyes wide, and his jaw set in determination. He had to give you the gift. Now.

As the game wrapped up, Ron stepped forward, trying once more. He was ready to just hand it over, but before he could do so, Mrs. Weasley called out from the kitchen, “Ron! Could you help me with the pudding? It needs to be served right now!”

Ron sighed deeply. “Not again!” he muttered to himself, watching helplessly as the room burst into laughter. You were too busy chatting with Harry and Hermione to notice his growing desperation. The longer he went without giving you the gift, the more awkward it became.

You caught his eye as he reluctantly shuffled to the kitchen, and for the first time, you saw the frustrated expression on his face. Something about it—his exasperation—seemed almost endearing. You blinked, unsure of what to make of it.

When Ron finally returned, his frustration was palpable. The clock read almost midnight, and you could tell something had changed in his demeanor. There was a sort of quiet determination to him, but also a funny, almost defeated air.

You smiled as you looked at him, knowing something was up. “Ron, what’s going on?”

He finally walked up to you, took a deep breath, and, without saying a word, placed the little package in your hands.

Your eyes widened in surprise. “Ron, you didn’t have to—”

“Open it,” he said quickly, his face flushed. "I mean… if you want to."

You laughed softly and pulled off the wrapping. Inside was a delicate silver bracelet, engraved with a tiny charm shaped like your favorite flower.

“Oh, Ron, it’s beautiful,” you said, your voice soft with genuine surprise. “You didn’t—”

“I wanted to,” he mumbled, looking at his shoes. "I thought you’d like it. You know... with the tulips. You like those, don’t you?"

You smiled and gently took his hand, giving it a light squeeze. “It’s perfect,” you said, your eyes meeting his. For the first time all evening, you saw the vulnerability in him—the way he had wanted to give you the gift for so long but had been curbed at every turn.

Ron let out a breath of relief, his face still pink. “You really like it?”

“I love it,” you said, grinning now. “Honestly, it’s been funny watching you try so hard to give it to me. Every time you get interrupted, it’s like you’re being thwarted by the universe.”

Ron chuckled, his shoulders slumping. “You have no idea. It’s like there's been some sort of curse set on me.”

You laughed, reaching up to give him a quick hug. “Thank you, Ron. It means a lot.”

For a moment, everything was quiet. The crackling of the fire was the only sound as you stepped back, still smiling. Ron, blinking in surprise, suddenly realized something: maybe it wasn’t about the gift at all. It was about the effort—the way he had been trying to get to this point for so long. And finally, it had worked. You knew.

“Well,” he said, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, “it’s been a bit of a disaster, hasn’t it?”

You chuckled, leaning back against the arm of the chair. “Maybe. But it’s also been very Ron.”

And that, he decided, was the best gift he could have asked for this Christmas.

— taglist ♡

@willowlovestheweasleys

[nickeverdeen]

No-Wands | Hermione Granger x fem!reader

Pairings: Hermione x reader (romantic), Ron x Hermione (platonic), Ron x reader (platonic), Molly x Hermione (platonic), Molly x reader (platonic), Molly x Ron (family)

Type of fic: Fluff

Warnings: Reader has a british slang ‘cause I couldn’t help myself

Summary: This year’s Christmas celebrations are at the Weasley’s and considering both you and Hermione are “muggle-born” Molly insisted you show her how to do Christmas cookies without magic.

Ps: Finding gifs for Hermione is so hard istg

——————

The Weasleys’ kitchen was alive with laughter and the warm, sugary scent of baking cookies. Molly Weasley stood by the counter, hands on her hips, watching with amusement as you, Hermione, and Ron wrestled with dough and bowls of flour. The day’s baking was well underway, though decidedly more chaotic than usual.

“Mum, I don’t see why we can’t just use magic,” Ron grumbled, though he was elbow-deep in mixing batter. His usual enthusiasm for Christmas seemed somewhat dimmed by the sheer effort of this no-wands rule.

You grinned at him from where you were rolling out a sheet of dough. “Where’s the fun in that? Besides, Molly wanted the full experience, yeah?”

Molly smiled warmly but stepped back, letting you take the reins. “I’ve always wondered how Muggles do all this. But I didn’t realize it was so… involved.”

“More satisfying this way,” Hermione said with a small, proud smile. She was carefully cutting out star shapes, her sleeves rolled up and her hair tied back in a loose bun.

“Exactly!” you chimed in, pressing a snowman-shaped cutter into the dough with a flourish. “Besides, Ron, you’ve got muscles from Quidditch. What’s a bit of stirring to you?”

“Ha, ha,” Ron said dryly, though you caught the hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.

Hermione shot you an approving look, her brown eyes warm. It made your stomach do that familiar flip, even after months of dating her. The way she smiled at you—like you were the only one in the room—was enough to make your cheeks flush, though you quickly masked it by focusing on the dough.

“You’re blushing,” Ron teased, tossing a sprinkling of flour in your direction.

“Am not,” you retorted, dodging just in time. “Maybe you’re just embarrassed you can’t keep up, yeah?”

Hermione laughed, a soft, melodic sound that filled the room. “Don’t be too hard on him,” she said, though her eyes sparkled with mischief. “He’s doing well for his first baking session.”

“Thanks, Hermione,” Ron muttered, though his cheeks flushed slightly.

As the cookies baked, the three of you cleaned up—or tried to. Hermione took charge of organizing the cooling rack, while Ron focused on sneaking spoonfuls of leftover frosting. You caught him red-handed, swatting his arm playfully.

“Ron, you’re worse than a kid!” you said, your voice filled with mock exasperation.

“I’m testing it,” he protested, grinning.

“Test it once more, mate, and I’ll hex you myself—no wands rule or not.”

Molly chuckled in the background as she observed the scene, shaking her head fondly. “You lot are worse than Fred and George.”

“Thank you, Molly,” you said brightly, pretending to take it as a compliment.

As the first batch of cookies came out of the oven, Hermione stepped close to you, the edges of her flour-dusted apron brushing against yours. “You’re enjoying this far too much,” she murmured, her voice low enough that only you could hear.

“Can you blame me?” you said, grinning at her. “I’ve got you, cookies, and a brilliant excuse to laugh at Ron.”

She rolled her eyes, but her cheeks turned pink as she tried to suppress a smile. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it,” you teased, leaning in to press a quick kiss to her temple.

“Get a room,” Ron groaned from across the kitchen, though he didn’t sound particularly bothered.

“Already in one, cheers,” you shot back.

Hermione giggled, and you couldn’t help but grin at her, the chaos of the room fading for a moment as you took in the way her hair framed her face, her sleeves pushed up to reveal flour-smudged forearms, and the way she looked at you like you hung the stars.

The cookies were finally cooled and ready to be decorated. You and Hermione worked together, spreading icing and adding sprinkles, while Ron attempted a snowman that ended up looking more like a blob.

“It’s artistic,” Ron insisted.

“It’s terrifying,” Hermione countered, her tone light.

As the day wound down and the cookies were piled onto plates, Molly took a bite of one and beamed. “These are wonderful,” she said, her voice full of genuine delight.

You raised an imaginary wand, pointing it toward Hermione. “All credit goes to Hermione.”

Hermione shook her head but leaned into you, her shoulder brushing yours. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”

As the first snowflakes began to fall outside, the warmth of the kitchen and the laughter of your friends filled the house. And as you stood there beside Hermione, her hand brushing against yours, you couldn’t imagine a more perfect Christmas.

[harrypotterandthefandomaccount]

in a new body

pairing: draco malfoy x fem!insecure!reader (enemies to friends and maybe lovers, but not stated)

request: imagine being insecure about your stomach because of draco then he gets to know you and makes you feel more comfortable in your skin? please

warnings: body-hatred, insecurity of body, body dysmorphia(?), honestly just hating one's body

notes: this one hit home, just cried to my therapist last week about this! haha! live, laugh, love!

you hated draco malfoy.

actually, hate is a strong word; you extremely disliked draco malfoy. he believed he was better than everyone else with his stupid face, his stupid slytherin family history, his stupid rich background, and his stupid cruelty towards you.

draco malfoy was stupid and you highly disliked him.

for years, you had received as much torment as harry potter from draco malfoy due to your weight, especially your stomach. you'd be the laughing stock of malfoy and the rest of his slytherin gang, no matter how many times ginny weasley and hermione granger would tell you, "don't pay that evil little cockroach any mind."

you wish you could say the same thing to the voice in your head, screaming at you to do those ab workouts, to not eat as much during the school meals. you wish you could just flip a switch, that draco would stop asking you how many pounds you put on just from breakfast alone, or if you had any trouble fitting into your skirt that morning.

"or you can just sock him in the throat," mentioned ron, mouth full of food.

"you wanna do it for me?" you asked back, an eyebrow raised. ron shook his head and went back to his plate.

hermione sighed beside you, "why not bring it up to dumbledore? or even snape? they should hear the vile things he says to you."

you shrugged, "i don't know, i don't think it's worth it, honestly. that might just make him come at me more and at the moment, i cannot handle that." you tried to laugh at the end, but it came out struggled.

ron gave a smile across from you, mouth full of food, "at least you're not harry, fighting draco constantly to see who the heir of slytherin is."

harry's face turned red, "ron, please, can we not?"

you gave a quiet laugh, "i actually appreciated that ron, thank you." harry groaned beside the redhead.

ginny was about to comment until you heard the goblin voice of draco malfoy himself directly behind you, "hey, y/n, walk any steps today to shed off some pounds? looks like you need to."

hermione glared at draco, "how dare you speak to her, or anyone, like that! you are utterly repulsive!"

draco glanced around the table, "granger, when?"

hermione shot him a look, "when what?"

draco snickered, "did i ask? but seriously y/n, give your legs a break from carrying all that!" and with that, he walked away, proud of himself as he pounded knuckles with crabbe and goyle.

ron and harry stood up, ready to lunge at draco before you gave them a look, shaking your head.

you bit your lip, "suddenly not hungry anymore. um, i think i'm gonna head up to the dorms. see you guys later?"

before anyone could disagree, you stood up from the benches and made your way out of the great hall, running into fred and george who quickly noticed your watery eyes.

"you alright there, y/n?" fred asked, and you nodded quickly, "yes, i'm fine but i have to go - study. goodbye."

the twins looked at one another, and then at your retreating form, "y/n, are you sure-" their question dropped as you continued on.

and with that, the twins were left dumbfounded until they were informed by their friends, brother, and sister.

not long after that incident, draco left you alone, making you and your friends become very suspicious, as if malfoy had a trick up his sleeve. but shockingly, he didn't, and he continued to not talk to you until potions class.

when professor snape decided partnering up different classmates was a great idea, and you two ended up together. he had wandered over to your desk, sitting beside you.

he smirked, "y/n."

you nodded, "listen, just let me do this potion so we can get a decent grade and then you can go back to torturing me, ok? unless you want your grade to suffer?"

draco stayed quiet, somewhat taken aback by your words, "i can help, you know, might as well make sure someone like you doesn't screw it up."

you looked up from the textbook, "someone like me? right, because i'm so repulsive to look at, draco. thank you for the reminder, i'll make sure to dedicate my next workout to you, you git."

with tears on the verge of falling, you grabbed your textbook and hastily walked out the room, professor snape yelling, "and two weeks worth of detention for you, miss l/n!"

you flipped him off right outside the classroom, somewhat bummed and relieved at the same time that he didn't see it.

draco was stunned, simple as that. he knew he was a jerk, a total asshole, but to him, it was pure fun. there was no harm - at least to him. but now, as he sat in potions class, noticing how all eyes were on him, he came to the realization that there was harm done.

draco never actually thought you were heavy or overweight, or even ugly; by merlin no, he thought you were so pretty. yet, he wanted to slap himself as that was no excuse to bully her until she cried - no, he knew that was the wrong way to go about it.

so then why did he do it? he hated that stupid saying that guys bullied girls because they liked them, but draco wondered if that were true in his case. or if he just didn't want to acknowledge his feelings for you.

he pondered the rest of potions class, speechless as to why he thought making fun of your weight was any excuse to talk to you. all he did was hurt you so deeply, cut wounds into your being.

draco knew he was an asshole, and knew he messed up. so how does he apologize?

apologizing was not his strong suit as he never needed to; well, at least to anyone besides his parents. why apologize to anyone else if nobody was as important as them? oh, but you were. you were so full of life and jokes, so kind to him when you all arrived as first-years, yet he has always been so cruel to you. was draco seriously this foreign to kindness that he decided the easiest way to reciprocate was to be mean?

yeah, i guess so.

draco stood up, his chair screeching against the floor. everyone looked at him and draco glanced to snape, "i've got to go." and with that, he was gone, leaving everyone with wide eyes and raised eyebrows.

hermione looked to ron, "where do you think he's going?"

ron shrugged, "beats me. maybe thinking of new insults to hurl at y/n. it's been a while."

hermione sighed and shuffled uncomfortably in her seat, "i wanna go look for her, ron."

harry heard her and shook his head, "bad idea; i think snape might lose it if one more person leaves or even raises their hand."

severus snape was indeed distraught at the behavior that was taking place in his classroom.

but he was not as taken aback as you were now in the astronomy tower.

why had it taken all up until now for you to snap? to even come back at him with something as much as anger? draco deserved to be yelled at, to be slapped, to be, as ron said, "socked in the throat."

you wiped your tears, sitting on the concrete floor as sobs racked your shoulders again. a few owls surrounded and flew around the tower as you whispered, "i hate my body. i have so much hatred for this fat, the way i look, the way i feel. i hate it." you sobbed, feeling the tears slip down your cheeks.

you let out a shaky breath, looking in your bag to grab a tissue before snot became your worst enemy. you wiped your nose, wrinkling it at the feeling before you sighed. you sniffled, tears filling your eyes again.

"i'm sorry."

you jumped, looking around for the source of the voice until you saw draco shuffle out of the darkness by the concrete wall.

you scoffed, "ugh, merlin! go away, malfoy. you're the last person i want to see right now, if you haven't caught on."

he kicked against the floor, "i deserve that."

"and i deserved your bullying, too, right?"

draco glanced to you, shaking his head even though yours had turned back around. he stepped closer, "no, no, you didn't. i'm... i'm a git, you're right."

you sniffled, looking to him as he sat beside you. you grumbled, "took you long enough."

draco huffed a laugh, "it did. and you can still hate me after this, but i truly am sorry. you didn't deserve what i said and did to you, and i can't imagine how you must feel."

silence enveloped between the both of you until he continued, "i heard what you said earlier, about your body."

your eyes had been closed, and you hummed, "not exactly a shocker."

"because of what i said? no, it's not, and i'm sorry again."

you held up a hand, looking at him, "draco."

draco looked you in the eyes, "y/n."

you gave a slight laugh, "it's okay, i forgive you."

draco nodded, "i'm sorry for making you feel so shitty about yourself. nobody deserves to feel that way, especially you, because you were nothing but kind to me and i treated you terribly."

you smiled softly at him, "you did, but you're apologizing now. my issues i can deal with on my own, but you took the time to apologize now so i'm grateful for that."

draco was stunned, a frown on his face, "how are you kind to me right now? i was terrible to you!"

you gave him side-eye, "i said terrible shit about you in my head, so i figured i should be nice."

the two of you laughed loudly at that comment, draco's eyes crinkling. as it died down, he rested a hand on the back of your head. he turned you towards him, "you're beautiful. truly stunning, y/n. i'm sorry i said those things about you."

you gave a small smile as tears welled in your eyes, "thank you draco, it's okay."

draco leaned back on his one hand, the other still in your hair, "can i help you in any way? to help you love yourself and your body?"

you were shocked to the core at his words this entire time, but now your eyes were just popping out of your head. you stumbled, "oh - no, no, i don't think so. it's just something i need to learn, y'know, to love my body. it's just...hard."

draco nodded and he smiled, "i have an idea."

your face drained of color, worried this might have been a joke all along. draco continued, "instead of insults, i'll give you compliments throughout the day. maybe that can help?"

this draco was so sweet compared to the old one; you suddenly had the urge to just grab his cheeks and go on about how sweet he was. this was such a turn of events.

"then," draco went on, "you wont want to be in a new body."

you smiled, "that sounds like a great idea, draco. thank you."

draco's cheeks flushed, "yeah, not a problem, it's whatever."

maybe during this new change in events, draco and yourself can figure out how to deal with the pounding in your chests.

[t1oui]

reading a few rarepair femslash fics (here's the series if yall are interested) has led to me writing my own rarepair oneshot with background every rarepair i can think of and it's very fun bc i don't really ship it but why not yk??

[schmem14]

It’s my birthday! Celebrate with me by reading my top favorite fanfic discoveries this past year. (Feel free to flail with me in DM’s!) I feel so lucky to have found so many wonderful talented friends and amazing stories! 

1. flour and flesh by foxglovetonic (nocturn) Hermione x Pansy, wc: 666 rating: M

(Mind the tags) This sapphic horror fic gripped my soul from the moment I read it and it lives rent-free in my head because of its amazing imagery and masterful use of unreliable narrator. I’ll be forever creeped out by carving pumpkins and pie (but in the BEST way, I swear!) This is the #1 reason Halloween is my fav. 

2. Usually by @lumosatnight Percy x Oliver, wc: 1k, rating: E

What’s not to love about banter, chess as foreplay, and stripping down until there’s nothing left but heart-pounding hot AF sex? This pairing is fantastic, and Lani’s writing is on point, as always, and I was incredibly impressed by the real live chess match taking place in the background. Read it, you won’t regret it! 

3. drink up, boys by @emilyrickman gen work featuring Parvati Patil, wc: 1.5k, rating: M

(Mind the tags) I URGE you give this gripping revenge story a chance! Between Parvati’s confidence and the absolute heartbreaking and empowering ode to sisterly love, this story gave me goosebumps. Emily is such a great writer, and I can’t stress enough how well the feels come through on this one. Also, give the song What It Means To Be a Girl by EMELINE a listen as you read, it will elevate the whole experience! 

4. One Woman’s Trash by @nanneramma Lavender x Hermione wc: 2k, rating: T

My friend Nan can do it all, and I don’t care that coffee shop AU has been done a thousand and one times before, THIS is the one to read! Lavender is to die for in this, and the fluff is pure, gourmet sweetness. It will have you kicking your feet and squealing by the end. 

5. Head Over Heels by @vdoshu Narcissa x Mrs. Zabini, wc: 575, Rating: M

This itty bitty fic is singlehandedly feeding my Narcissa Mommy delusion. I want her to step on me SO BAD! Ugh. Doshu packs a punch with every story, and the punchline of this one is sure to have you gasping like a beached fish. Please come scream at me about it if and when you know what I mean. 

6. Welcome, Peasants by @fluxweeed Draco x Ron x Harry, wc: 15k, Rating: E

It was nearly impossible for me to pick just ONE of my favorite fics from Dronarry fest this year, but I narrowed it down to two. Strap in for an hour and immerse yourself because the payoff is WORTH IT!  This one blends the juicy polyjuice trope with a healthy dollop of mistaken identity and a pinch of jealousy. Better yet is the twisty reveal and the absolutely smut-tastic finale that follows.

7. For I Have Found Salvation by @lumosatnight Severus x Harry, wc: 7k, Rating: E

Yes Lani, I couldn’t resist another! I feel like I have to preface this by saying I’m not usually a Snarry fan, but this filthy Priest AU fic is EVERYTHING. The dynamic of guilt and forbidden church sex (while church is IN SESSION) is so fucking delectable. I’m going to just say it and embarrass myself: Insta-Wank Bank. Yep. 

8. Nightswimming by @sweet-s0rr0w Draco x Ron (x Harry), wc: 5k, Rating: M

…Which brings me to my SECOND Dronarry fest pick from this year, and I love it so much because it’s all banter and hypotheticals. Draco and Harry are a couple, but Draco and Ron share a car ride where it comes out that maybe they’ve been considering a three-way with Ron. They don’t even fuck, but the tension of them just talking about it is too hot to handle. Bonus: There’s art at the end! 

9. Mistletoe Mojito by @amethystheart2421 Sybill x Severus, wc: 3k, Rating: E

This fic knocked me flat on my ass. This lust potion fueled one-night stand fic had me laughing and crying (from hilarity and absurdity and sadness) all at once. Such delightful writing, and the perfect example of crack taken seriously. 

10. All That Is Beautiful, Burns In The Making by @sailtomarina Narcissa x Bill, wc: 8k, Rating: E

Narcissa is hot. Bill is hot. We all know this from canon, but imagine they get together and how much hotter they are as a couple! This fic contains such delights as werewolf Bill, seduction, forbidden love, infidelity, knotting, endless refractory periods, voyeurism, rough sex, and mating. It’s not quite A/B/O but it has a lot of the elements that make it such a juicy AU.

11. A Perfect Answer by @p1013 Draco x Harry wc: 9k, Rating: E

Downton Abbey AU. Harry is Draco’s valet and the love is very much forbidden. Contains: pining, jealousy, decorum, emerald cufflinks that Draco favours, and BATHS. Something about it reminds me of Jane Eyre, though I know that’s a different time period and there’s no crazy wife in the attic. I loved this fic so much because it was a well-written AU and it brought a breath of fresh air to an old favorite otp. The angst is divine, and the ending is such a lovely payoff. Enjoy! 

[pookha]

Dream With Me

Chapter 1: June 1998

Rated Mature

Hermione wants more than just the white picket fence with Ron; she wants to make a difference. She always thought she’d be doing that in the Ministry, but finds instead that she wants to become a Healer. She doesn’t believe in soulmates, but when she discovers that Luna shares her dreams, literally shares her dreams, her foundations are shaken.

The war exposed Luna to her father’s lies. When she’s named co-Head Girl with Hermione Granger, she never expected to fall in love with her. When she discovers that Hermione shares the same dreams, literally shares the same dreams, her foundations are shaken.

An 8th year, Head Dorms story with dream sharing. After one early chapter partially from Harry’s POV, all the rest will be from Hermione’s POV.

All the scars are on the inside I'm not sure if there's anything left of me -Blue Oyster Cult-songwriters Michael Moorcock and Eric Bloom

TW: Violence, graphic violence referenced in nightmares, non-con referenced in a nightmare about Greyback (non explicit), PTSD.

A/N This story is complete and I will be updating approximately once a week. It will comprise 20 chapters.

Decisions are made to accept the offer of Auror or go back to Hogwarts. Harry, Ginny and Hermione all choose to go back to Hogwarts. Ron chooses to become an Auror. Hermione and Ron are unaware that while they are sitting in the garden at the Burrow discussing where their relationship is going, a paparazzo is photographing them.

June 1998

Hermione woke up to the first rays of the sun coming through a crack in the curtains; it spilled on Ron’s broad back just in front of her face. She leaned her head in slightly and kissed him on the base of his neck where it met his shoulders. He was warm and his skin smelled like him and her, freshly mown grass, spearmint, ink, parchment, and their mingled sweat. He stirred slightly at her lips, but didn’t awaken. She pulled back and looked around the room they shared. His boyhood Quidditch posters were scattered on the walls just like his Hogwarts books and laundry were tossed carelessly here and there. Their clothes mixed together in a pile on the floor, showing the haste with which they had gotten into bed the night before. Their wands rested on the table within arm’s reach. Hermione’s mouth twitched as she remembered Molly’s objections to her staying in the same room as Ron, but Hermione and Ron had just told her that was how it was going to be for now. Molly had been relieved when Harry announced he’d be taking Bill’s old room; she’d thought that maybe Harry was going to move into Ginny’s room. Sleeping with Ron had helped; the nightmares had mostly faded.

Hermione’s eyes flicked to the scroll of parchment on the desk with the wax seal broken. She knew it was Ron’s official offer from the Aurors and he was going to accept it. She could picture the same scroll in Harry’s hands as he sat at Bill’s old carved and graffitied desk and pondered if he also wanted to accept. She had initially thought he would, but lately he’d been spending more time with Ginny flying, tossing a Quaffle, and strategizing Quidditch together and now she thought they might just both play professional Quidditch. She’d also been sent the same offer and declined immediately, stating her intent to return to Hogwarts and get her NEWTs. When she told him what her answer had been, Ron had looked down at his offer again and frowned slightly.

She slid quietly out of the bed, found her knickers in the pile and slid them on, then put Ron’s shirt on also. When she stood, it came almost to her knees. She lifted the collar to her nose and sniffed: more grass, spearmint and sweat, but her scent also. She walked quietly to the desk and sat down. She took her beaded handbag off the shelf and pulled out parchment, ink, and quill and started writing. She had almost finished her letter to the Australian Department of Muggle Relations when she heard Ron’s voice.

“Homework?” he asked, laughing as he sat up and put his legs over the edge of the bed.

She watched as he found his pants and slid them on. It was still a thrill to see him like this.

“No, I’m writing to the Australian authorities to see if they can find my parents and if their memories can be restored.” She sighed and sobbed just once, but then wiped her eyes of the proto-tears and watched Ron dry-eyed.

He stretched and she looked at his tight stomach. He saw her looking and grinned.

“Like what you see?”

She moved to sit next to him and kissed him in response.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said when they broke apart.

“Yes, I like what I see.”

“Is that my shirt?” Ron asked

Hermione rolled her eyes dramatically and he laughed again.

“No, it’s mine…at least it is now.”

She stood and held out her hand like she was holding a flag.

“I claim this shirt in the name of Queen Hermione.”

She flopped back down onto his lap and he let out a muffled oomph noise. The light from the curtains had moved slightly and they both enjoyed the play of it on their bare skin.

“As much as I’d like to spend the day in bed, I do have to finish this letter and post it and we have chores to do around the house.” She sighed.

“And you’ve got to answer your letter.”

“If you want me to go back to Hogwarts with you, I will,” Ron said, as he ran his hand through her sleep-tangled hair.

She looked up and met his eyes.

“I want you to do what you want to do. I don’t want you to come back to Hogwarts just because I’m there. If you want to join the Aurors, you should.”

His hand stopped moving in her hair.

“I think I have to; I need to do my part.”

She sat up, pulling his hand down over his heart.

“We did our part already. You shouldn’t feel like you have to do more.”

“But I wasn’t there for all of it. I have to do this for myself.” He squeezed her hand where they met over her heart. His eyes went to the wound on her arm and she turned it so the mostly healed ‘mudblood’ that had been carved in it was no longer visible.

“That’s what I wanted to hear. I mean the truth either way. Not that I wanted you to go. Not that I wanted to go. I don’t know.”

“Do you think Harry’s going to take the offer?” Ron asked.

Hermione shrugged, but then shook her head.

“I think he’s either going to play Quidditch or go back to Hogwarts, either way it’ll be with Ginny.”

“Yeah.” He released her hand and slid his hand over her stomach and under her shirt then down over her thighs. She sighed and kissed his neck, but then sat back quickly.

“Sorry, I’ve got to pee.” She found her jeans and slipped them on, then left for the bathroom. Ron’s eyes stayed on her until she left, then flicked to the letter on his desk. He stood, stretched, then went to get clothes from his dresser. When Hermione returned a few minutes later, he was sitting at his desk, fully clothed with the letter open.

“Will you help me answer this?” he asked. She nodded and sat next to him at the desk. She helped him with his letter, then finished hers while he went to shower. When he came back, smelling of soap and no longer of them together, she also went to shower.

Their morning was taken up in chores and all the maintenance a large old house needs. After lunch, Ron joined Ginny and Harry for some Quidditch; they wanted Hermione to join, but she declined and helped Molly with her housework instead.

“Mrs Weasley—uh, Molly?” Hermione asked, still getting used to calling her Molly.

“Yes, dear?” Molly didn’t look up from where she was darning socks with her wand.

“Thank you for letting me stay here.”

“Nonsense, you’re family, just like Harry is. You can stay as long as you want.” She tossed a sock that was more holes than sock into the bin.

“I’m sorry I don’t have any money left to contribute. I lost what was left of my Muggle money when we were on the run.”

Molly waved her off.

“Will you be able to get your Hogwarts things? Do you need some new clothes?”

“I’m okay on clothes and Harry’s going to spot me money for supplies.”

“If you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to ask. You’re like my own daughter. I know I haven’t always been the closest to you, but I know now you’d never do anything to hurt Ron or Harry deliberately.”

“You do know that there’s never been anything between me and Harry, right? He’s like the brother I never had and that’s it.” Hermione tried to darn a sock and got it wrong; Molly showed her the right way.

“I do now. Sorry I didn’t know it then.”

Just before dinner, Ron posted his response to Kingsley and Hermione sent her request to the Australian authorities. From the garden, they watched the owls fly away to the southeast. A moment later another owl joined them from the window of Bill’s old room where Harry waved at them. He motioned that he was coming down. They waited in the garden, hand in hand. Harry came out of the Burrow with Ginny.

“We all decided, then,” he said.

“I’m doing it,” Ron responded.

“I’m not,” Harry said. He put his arm around Ginny.

“I just want to have one normal year at Hogwarts with my girlfriend, playing Quidditch and no one trying to kill me.”

“I get it, mate,” Ron said as he released Hermione’s hand and shook Harry’s. Harry only shook his hand for a second before he pulled him into a giant hug that Ginny and Hermione joined.

“I’ll miss you,” Harry said.

They all broke apart and Ginny asked, “Do you know when they’ll want you to report?”

“I suspect as soon as I hear word back. It’s going to be onsite training for six weeks and I’ll be living with the other trainees.” Ron sighed and then smiled.

“Maybe I’ll be assigned to Hogsmeade, you never know.”

“I heard new trainees have to work out of the London office with an experienced Auror, but who knows if there’s still enough of those left,” Harry said.

They all turned to walk into the Burrow almost simultaneously, which made Hermione smile; after so many years together, they all had taken on some of each other’s mannerisms.

“Got plans for after dinner?” Ron asked Hermione who shook her head.

“You do now; we’re going to watch the sunset in the garden together.” He took her hand.

“And snogging?” Ginny elbowed Hermione, who laughed.

“Probably. Not like you won’t be doing the same,” Hermione elbowed Ginny back. Ginny side-eyed Harry.

“Yeah,” she admitted as Harry put his arms around her shoulders.

Percy came to dinner with a trifle in a glass bowl and George surprised them all by coming too. Lately he’d been staying late at WWW and he’d not often come to family events. Hermione saw the dark circles under his eyes and asked Ron if they could do anything. Ron shook his head and said that George wanted to do it all himself. To Hermione it seemed like penance.

After dinner, Hermione, Ron and Harry did the washing up. When he was done, Ron disappeared into the house and came back with a tatty plaid blanket a moment later.

“Don’t want to get one of the good ones dirty,” he explained. Harry went to sit with Percy, Ginny, Molly and Arthur. George had made his excuses after dinner and left, but not before huge hugs from everyone including Percy.

Ron took Hermione’s hand and led her out to the garden under the watchful eyes of the gnomes. Crookshanks followed behind them, occasionally stopping to chase off a gnome who ran away laughing. When they got to a large spreading tree, Ron tossed the blanket down. They sat facing west, watching the red sun go down in a haze that was possibly heat or maybe smoke from a distant fire.

“It’s beautiful,” Hermione said when she came up for air.

“So are you,” Ron replied instantly, which Hermione knew meant he’d meant it and had said it without thinking.

“Thank you,” she replied and kissed him above one ear, then the other.

“I—I don’t know what will happen to us,” Ron said, pulling back.

“What do you want to happen with us?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I thought we’d be together after… just after, you know,? But we seem to be going different ways, different paths.” He ran his hand through his hair in a gesture that reminded her of Harry.

“Do you want to be together? Are we going to get married? Is that something you want?” Ron pulled a small, plain gold ring out of his pocket.

“Oh, Ron, no,” Hermione said, closing his hand over the ring.

“It’s not an engagement ring… just a promise ring,” he finished lamely.

“I…it’s too early for me to think about getting married.” She squeezed his hand over the ring.

He hung his head.

“That’s what I thought you’d say, but I had to ask, know for sure.”

“I do love you, Ron, but I don’t know what I want right now beyond going back to Hogwarts.” She kissed his cheek. He pulled back.

“I love you, Hermione.”

“I love you too, Ron, but I’m not ready to get married or even engaged. It doesn’t mean it won’t happen between us; maybe it just means ‘not now’.”

He hugged her and she returned it.

“Is it because of her?” he whispered in her ear.

Hermione knew who he meant.

“No. What I had with her isn’t the same.” She broke the hug and held him at arm’s length.

“Can we just enjoy the time we have now before you go to London? If not, I’ll move into another room if that’s what you want.”

He shook his head.

“No. We can enjoy our time together.”

She pulled him in and kissed him again.

Neither of them noticed the paparazzo with a telephoto lens hiding in the deep grass on the other side of the fence from the Weasley’s garden.

[emeritusemeritus]

Since never. [Fred Weasley x Reader]

Title: Since Never.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Gryffindor!Reader (background George Weasley x Angelina)

Timeline: GOF, McGonagall’s dance class.

Summary: George meddles and Fred finally finds the courage to ask you to the Ball, not liking the idea of anyone else taking you. Inspired by TikTok, based on movie canon.

Warnings: Friends to lovers, minor kissing, harmless pranks. A load of fluff. Fred has a crush.

I’m thinking of writing a part two to this, but it would most likely just be self indulgent fluff 🤍

"You know," George whispers into his twin's ear, trying to get Fred's attention whilst also trying to stay under McGonagall's radar as she addresses the Gryffindor students all huddled into one large classroom. The Triwizard Tournament and the associated Yule Ball had been announced the day before and as head of house, Mcgonagall had been tasked with teaching her students the traditional Waltz. The girls were seated on the left side of the room whilst the boys were seated on the right, kept separate for now as they listened to her explaining the ins and out of the tournament and the ball.

George leans forward to whisper once again to Fred who stands with his arms folded, watching in amusement as Filch hopelessly fiddles with an archaic megaphone, trying to get it to work. "Lee told me this morning that y/n's going to the ball with Cedric Diggory."

Fred's head immediately whips round with a face of utter horror as he turns to his brother, before briefly diverting his eyes over to you on the other side of the room and then returning his gaze to George.

"What, since when?"

"Since never," George smirks dangerously as he takes in Fred's rather apparent distaste to his words, his dismay and disappointment etched right across his face. "But your reaction just told me everything I needed to know."

Fred huffs and slinks back onto the windowsill where he'd been leaning feeling a little embarrassed at being caught out so easily by his twin. His crush on you was one of the only secrets he'd ever hidden from his twin, though apparently rather unsuccessfully, never wanting to be teased about it. You'd all been friends for so long that he never wanted to make things awkward by admitting his feelings and so he'd kept quiet for nearly two years of loving you secretly and silently.

"You should ask her," George says, leaning in once again. Fred doesn't reply, at least not verbally, but instead shoots his brother a fierce look that tells him to back off.

"Something may be about to burst out of Eloise Midgen, but I don't think it's a swan," Fred hears Ron mumble to his surrounding classmates, their eyes all sneakily turning to look at the girl in question, who shifts uncomfortably where she stands, unaware that half the boys of Gryffindor are looking at her. Fred's gaze doesn't linger long, instead finding you in the crowd, whispering with Angelica seated beside you as Hermione shoots you both a chastising look from the other side, clearly trying to listen intently to Mcgonagall.

Your hair is down now, not tied up in a high ponytail like it had been at breakfast. Your legs are neatly crossed in your seat, your school skirt revealing an appropriate but delicious amount of leg that Fred can hardly look away from. You're effortlessly beautiful, or at least you are to him, never looking better than when you are laughing and joking with your friends like right now. Sat surrounded by only the girls, Fred thinks it seems to to enhance your beauty, the prettiest face in a sea of girls.

"Mr Weasley."

Fred immediately looks up upon hearing his title called out as it so frequently is, though he's mightily relieved when it appears McGonagall was addressing his younger brother Ron, no doubt hearing him muttering.

"Will you join me please?" She asks, moving towards where he sits with an outstretched hand. The tone of her voice leaves no space for refusal as she tentatively reached out for his jumper and pulls him up of the chair, moving to stand in the middle of the room. The boys all make teasing noises as he stands, dragging his body over to Mcgonagall, feet hardly shuffling on the floor.

"Place your right hand on my waist," she says, opening her arms for him.

"Where?" He asks utterly horrified. Everyone looking on watches with sadistic amusement at his predicament. Fred can barely contain his delight at the scene before him, watching with utter glee, just like his twin beside him.

"My waist!" Mcgonagall replies, grabbing Ron by the sleeve and firmly placing his arm on her waist.

Fred heard a wolf whistle from the other side of the room and looks at you just in time to see your hand pull away from your mouth, clearly having been the perpetrator. The looking of delight on your face mirrors his own as you each catch each others gaze and he thinks just for a second that if he didn't love you already, it was firmly cemented now.

Ron turns and shoots you a look but you simply wink at him with a dung-eating grin before he is dragged back to focus on the professor.

"Mr Filch, if you please," Mcgonagall commands, prompting the caretaker to drop the needle on the record player, flinching only moments later as the speaker begins to crackle, before a signature waltz pours out.

"One two three, one two three," Mcgonagall starts counting as she leads Ron into a waltz, showing the steps that were specific to the champion's waltz.

Fred and George had been goofily dancing along with the music, hardly taking their eyes off of their embarrassed brother when Harry calls over to them.

"Oi!" Harry says, gesturing for Fred and George to come closer. They move in perfect unison and never take their eyes off Ron as they listen to Harry.

"You're never going to let him forget this are you?"

"Never," the twins say in synchronised perfection with identical smirks before leaning back slinking away to lean on the window as they had before.

"Everyone, come together!" Mcgonagall says from the centre of the room, finally pulling away from a bright red Ron to gesture everyone forward. The boys make no effort to move forward, clearly not wanting to participate whereas nearly all of the girls leap forward in excitement, waiting in a line to be picked.

Fred watches as Angelina drags you up, noticing that you had not leapt forward with the rest of the girls and he has to hide a snicker at seeing your disgruntled face, evidently not as keen to dance as your female classmates.

"Boys! On your feet!" Mcgonagall claps, getting the boys to also move forward. Neville stands first, followed by a few stragglers but no one moves forward until Fred steps out of line and whilst ignoring the looks from his twin and fellow Gryffindors, marches straight over to you.

"May I have this dance mi'lady?" He says dramatically with a bow of his head, extending his right hand to you.

"You may mi'lord," you laugh, placing your hand in his. He drags you over to the dance floor and places his hand on your waist just as he'd seen in the demonstration and with surprising precision, pulled you further away as he began spinning you. Your laugh echoed through the classroom even over the music as Fred span you around and around, completely ignoring the choreography until Mcgonagall shouted over and warned you both.

He seemed, for once, to heed the warning and pulled you closer into his chest then, placing his hand back onto your waist as he held you close, managing to quickly pick up the footwork that was needed for the waltz.

It was so intimate and romantic that you had to remind yourself frequently that this was Fred you were dancing with, knowing that he was out of bounds on account of your friendship with him and his siblings.You had to resist the urge to rest your head on his chest as you danced, enjoying the closeness as you half watched the rest of your house dancing around you.

"Do you have a date to the ball yet?" You hear Fred ask as he dances with you, hand resting on your lower back after lifting you in perfectly sync with the music.

"Not yet," you say, looking up to see him watching you with an intensity you couldn't place. "You?" You ask, temporarily breaking your eye contact as he clutched your waist, lifting you again and then taking your waist and your hand to spin you, just as the champions waltz demanded. He didn't verbally reply but instead shook his head with a frown before pulling you in closer and spinning you with more intensity which had you laughing again.

"Y/n," Fred says as he looks down at you, pausing his movements to speak but he's interrupted by Mcgonagall calling time on the dance class. She begins addressing the room of students on details of the ball and you all listen intently until she dismisses the class. When you turn back to Fred you notice he'd joined George and was already walking out the door, bag slung over his right shoulder. Angelina joined you, bringing you your bag as you said goodbye to Ginny and Hermione before walking to your next class together.

"You and Fred looked rather close," Angelina says as you place your bag onto your shoulder.

"He's my best friend Ange," you say, nudging her shoulder and rolling your eyes, pretending that you hadn't enjoyed it quite as much as you did.

"Has he asked you to the ball?" She says, not even flinching.

"No and I doubt he will," you say with a forced huff of a self-deprecating laugh.

"I hope George asks me," she says longingly as you turn the corner towards the charms classroom, instantly falling silent as you see the two brothers you'd been discussing already standing in the doorway to the classroom.

George looks over and smiles at you both, mainly Angelina as he beckons you over and you don't hesitate wiggling your eyebrows at her once he looked away, causing her to nudge you forcefully right back. You momentarily loose your balance from the unexpected nudge and as if on instinct, Fred's arms reach out to catch you.

"Falling for me princess?" He smirks, causing you to roll your eyes.

"You'd love that Weasley," you counter once you'd steadied yourself, seeing that George and Ange had already taken their seats.

"Ladies first," Fred says, opening his arms to gesture for you to go through the doorway first and you send him a sarcastic smile of gratitude before taking your seat next to Ang, in front of Fred.

Throughout the class you were desperately distracted, barely even listening or taking notes. thinking of your dance with Fred earlier and how he'd marched directly over to you ahead of all the other boys. You hoped that he was going to ask you to the ball, though you knew it would just be a pipe dream. Hopefully someone would ask you, even just as friends.

A piece of scrunched up parchment hits you square in the head, making you look round with a glare. Fred immediately smiles widely at you, if not a little sarcastically before he sends another note over to you with his wand, a little origami bird flying over your shoulder and onto the desk in front of you. Your eyebrows knit together in questioning as you look up at him again but he simply raises his eyebrows as if to say 'read it' and you turn and unfold the note delicately, shooting a quick look towards the professor to check that they weren't watching you.

'Black lake 7pm?"

You turned around, still looking confused but when you saw Fred watching you eagerly, you nodded with a little smile. He smiled back, winking at you before dropping his gaze back down to his work.

You secretly nudged Ang beside you and gestured with your eyes down to the little note, seeing her eyes bulge comically as she let out a little silent squeal of delight once she reads the note. She looks at you excitedly and wordlessly nods, as if thinking the same thing.

It's 6:50pm and you hadn't seen Fred or George at dinner which was unusual to say the least. Angelina and Harry had been there so it wasn't a Quidditch thing, which only confused you more. You made your way out of the castle utilising one of the secret passageways that you'd taken multiple times with the twins to avoid being seen, climbing around the statue of Gregory the smarmy and slipped down into the passage, walking the length of the little corridor until you could hear water rippling. You climbed up the little rocky steps and found yourself looking out at the Great Lake, beside the rocky cliffs that hid you from sight.

"Evening," you a voice called out from behind you, making you turn and frown. It was hard to see in just the moonlight with the shadows of the cliffs creating even more darkness, but you immediately sensed that something wasn't right. The person jumped down from where they had been perched on the rock and as they moved closer their long red hair and wooden jumper emblazoned with an 'F' came into focus.

"Hi, Fred," you said unconvincingly, looking at the bloke in front of you.

"Glad you could come gorgeous," he says, shifting to stand next to you. You couldn't help but observe him, looking at his features with subtle glances and questioning eyes.

"It's pretty out here tonight don't you think," he says with a shy smirk, though his eyes focus entirely on you as he speaks.

"Uh yeah, really pretty." He seems to briefly notice your lack of reply and casts a glance up at your eyes before looking away, focusing his attention on something to the right for just a moment.

"I've been thinking a lot about our dance earlier," he says shyly and you have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes now that it's all added up in your mind.

You gesture for him to move in closer, placing your hand on his shoulder as he leans down so that you could whisper in his ear.

"We didn't dance earlier," you say bluntly though with humour behind it, picking up a rock and trying to skim it on the water.

"Eh?" He asks, turning quickly to look up at your face in surprise, taken aback by his words.

"I danced with Fred earlier. Where is he anyway?" You ask quietly, raising your eyebrow at him, foiling his plan. He barks out a loud laugh at your discovery and you immediately see the performance drop from his body as he slinks down to his regular stance, once again being himself. He subtly nods his head to the right and your eyes light up in glee as you lean back over to him.

"Want to mess with him?" You ask with a suggestive wiggle of your eyebrows. George's eyes immediately light up as he nods, a smile tugging at his lips already.

"You know I've been thinking about our dance a lot too," you say flirtily and a little louder now, ensuring that whenever Fred was, he would hear you. You even lean over to touch George on the arm as you speak, your body language changing as you play heavily on the flirting.

"Oh really?" He says, playing along with a concealed smirk.

"Mmm," you hum, tracing your fingers up his arm with exaggerated movements so you knew that Fred would see them if he was watching. "I spent the whole dance really hoping you were going to kiss me," you said innocently and you immediately have to bite your lip as you and George share a little silent laugh.

"What a coincidence," he says, trying to sound like Fred, "I was thinking the same thing."

"Are you thinking about it now?" You ask, reaching to play with his collar, your voice seductive and airy as you pull out all the stops. "Maybe you could give me a demonstration of exactly what you were thinking about."

All of a sudden you hear a few loud shouts and a shuffle as another figure comes into view, quickly making their way down the rocky cliffs and running comically with waving arms, straight over to stand between you and George, who are both now in hysterics. Fred immediately notices the two of you laughing and freezes in confusion before realising that he'd been played.

"When did you figure it out?" He says, sounding aghast at you seeing through their little scheme.

"The second George said 'evening'," you chuckled, straightening back up and laughing again as Fred and George begin to squabble about who's fault it was.

"Anyway, have fun you two," George says with a wiggle of his eyebrows before walking down the steps to the concealed passage, leaving you and the real Fred alone.

"You know that doesn't work with me," you say, turning to him with a smirk on your face, seeing him already looking at you and shrugging with a playful grin. "Why did you swap?"

"Needed to know you could tell us apart," he says with a cheeky grin that makes you frown, silently questioning him. "Gonna need to know which one's your date to the ball aren't you. Can't have you dancing with the wrong bloke."

Your eyes immediately widen and a smile beams across your face as his words register with you. He chuckles, seeing your reaction before dramatically getting down on one knee as if he was proposing.

"Y/n, would you do me the honour of being my date to the Yule ball?" He asks seriously, holding out his hands as if he was presenting you with a ring. You giggle and let out a little squeal before lunging at him, knocking you both to the floor.

"I might be wrong but I think that was a yes," he chuckles.

"Yes! Yes you great oaf," you reply with a smile, feeling completely elated. His smile matches yours as he pulls you down onto him and suddenly there's a tension that falls between you both at the intimacy of the moment.

"Still thinking about that kiss?" He asks, a nervousness falling across his features that you had so rarely seen. You don't reply, at least not verbally and give a small, shy nod as you look at his lips in anticipation, thinking of nothing else.

Not a moment passes before he leans up, gently pulling you down until your lips meet, his soft lips pressing gently against yours. After just a few seconds, his hands hover over your waist before he seems to find the courage to hold you, placing his hands on your waist and hip as the kiss deepens, lips working completely in sync as you sink deeper and deeper into eachother.

You pull apart a little while later and both giggle shyly at what had just happened. Fred never takes his hands away from your waist, even as he gently manoeuvres you until you're lying down on him, head on his shoulder as you both look up at the star filled sky, a comfortable silence falling between you as you both replay the moment in your heads over and over again.

[cailynwrites]

A Very Pairy Christmas 2024 Master List

Check out last year's master list HERE.

Dec. 1 - Better Off by @samunderthelights (James x Sirius)

Dec. 2 - The Gift That Keeps on Giving by sophh (Fred x Hermione)

Dec. 3 - The Green Dress by @danpuff-ao3 (James x Regulus, James x Lily)

Dec. 4 - An Extra Hand by Frumpologist (Harry x Theo)

Dec. 5 - Ta Reine by @xslytherclawx-writes (Alicia x Angelina)

Dec. 6 - By the Fire by @siriusly-sapphic (Narcissa x Sirius)

BONUS Dec. 6 (for Hagrid's birthday) - The First Winter by Fluffyllama (Hagrid x Madam Rosmerta)

Dec. 7 - Into His Arms by Herochick007 (Ginny x Kingsley)

Dec. 8 - The Story with a Happy Kind of Ending by @veliseraptor (Lily x Severus)

Dec. 9 - While the Weary World Is Sleeping (Christmas Night, 1995) by @topaz-eyes (Remus x Sirius, Hermione x Remus)

BONUS Dec. 9 - Snoggy Delights by Avada_Katyvra (Draco x Hermione)

Dec. 10 - Tides to the Shore by @pawprinterfanfic (Ginny x Luna)

Dec. 11 - Photograph by @celestemagnoliathewriter (Remus x Tonks, Ginny x Harry)

Dec. 12 - Four Christmases Pomona Sprout Loved and One She Hated by kelly_chambliss (Aberforth x Pomona)

A Song for Midwinter by anxiousgoat (Draco x Neville)

Dec. 13 - A Potter Carol by @originella

Dec. 14 - A Song for Midwinter by anxiousgoat (Draco x Neville)

Dec. 15 - A White Christmas and a Summer Wedding by Titti (Pansy x Ron)

Dec. 16 - Uplifting Magic by PaulaMcG (Pomona x Pomfrey, background Wolfstar)

Dec. 17 - Boxes and Baubles by @danpuff-ao3 (Harry x Severus)

Dec. 18 - A Diner's Christmas Eve Tale: Traditions by @picklesonjupiter (Harry x Severus - Severitus)

BONUS Dec. 18 - Penguins, Pebbles, and Other Reasons to Pursue Unemployment by @mightbewriting (Draco x Hermione)

Dec. 19 - we'll keep the king by @bluesundaycake (Remus x Severus)

Dec. 20 - How the Ghosts (Almost) Stole Christmas by RonsGirlFriday (Hermione x Ron)

Dec. 21 - Last Minute Christmas Shopping by @madetofly (Daphne x Susan)

Dec. 22 - The Perfect Tree by @danpuff-ao3 (Neville x Percy)

Dec. 23 - Fireside by vix_spes (Harry x Ron)

Dec. 24 - Baby's First Christmas (AKA The Night Before Christmas) by @rainbow-nerdss (James x Lily)

Dec. 25 - Happy Holidays by @goddess47 (Dudley & Harry)

BONUS Dec. 25 - Light One Candle by @xslytherclawx-writes (Albus x Scorpius)

Dec. 26 - Pick Their Poison by @corinalannister (Hermione x Severus)

Dec. 27 - It's Not Easy (The Way I Loved You) by @bartletslesbians (Hermione x Pansy)

Dec. 28 - God Rest Ye, Pansy Parkinson by anxiousgoat (Pansy x Tonks)

Dec. 29 - Sometimes We're Just Searching for What's Right There All Along by @youcancallmekathyp (Harry x Hermione)

(updated daily)

BONUS multi-voice project - Light Up the Night by Saras_Girl (Draco x Harry)