#but i was feeling hogwarts!age twins | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

r2d2lover · 3 months ago

Text

Extra Credit

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Rating: E

Word Count: 3.69k (im so sorry)

Warnings: first time blow job, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, F/M, cunnilingus, fingering, aged-up characters, Hogwarts Uni AU

Summary:

Fed up with being romantically inept, you ask your childhood best friend, Fred Weasley, for some help.

Despite his reputation, Fred was quite the studious reader. He was always in the heart of the common room on a weekend, buried in a book about tricks, potions, and temporary charms. He was a man of research and if he found something that needed testing, he would contact you. You had been his most trusted scientific confidant since your childhood years and now in post-secondary school, the two of you were ever the academics. Fred and George disguised their penchant for shenanigans through their potioneering concentration and fortunate for them, you were naturally gifted from the amount of times you want to defy your old potions professor. However, while post-secondary school had been kind, you felt yourself lacking knowledge in a different area of life: romance.

You seemed to be the only one amongst your friends to be completely unskilled in the art of love. While your friends seemed to effortlessly navigate the waters of dating and relationships, you felt like you were drowning in a sea of awkwardness and uncertainty. Sure, you tried when you were younger, but time and opportunity eluded you. You were always too focused on your own agency or helping the twins pull off some prank. There wasn’t a single boy who caught and held your attention like Fred or George. You finally decided one night to take the plunge and join the sexual fray by asking Fred to help you out. You leveraged in your mind it was an educational opportunity that would only happen once. Fred was a frequent flier, as you had heard him described, around school, so you figured that not only would he have the experience, but it would be as casual as his other flings.

It was during one of your late-night study sessions with Fred that you finally decided to broach the subject. The common room was empty save for the two of you, the crackling fire casting a warm glow over the scattered parchments and open books.

"Fred," You began hesitantly, setting down your quill. The sound of the cracking embers saved you from any awkward silence. "Can I ask you something... personal?"

"Of course. What's on your mind?" Fred looked up from his book on temporary transfiguration charms, his eyebrows raised in curiosity. You took a deep breath, feeling your cheeks grow warm. He put his book down when he clocked your growing fluster.

"How do you... I need to ask you something. Er… a favor?” You shifted your weight nervously, which only added to the glee in Fred’s face. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs and stretching his arms behind his head. His smirk only grew wider.

“I love an opportunity for quid pro quo. What do you have in mind, princess?” Fred kept his lazy demeanor. Your stomach continued to bubble over from the nerves. You couldn’t believe you were actually going to ask him for this. Fred’s eyes followed you closely, especially when you swallowed thickly before speaking.

"Um, well...it's a chance to learn something new? An educational opportunity," You stumbled over your words, desperately trying to delay the inevitable. Fred gave you a quizzical look, silently urging you to elaborate with another raise of his eyebrows. "I...okay, fine. Teach me how to use my mouth."

“Well, I think you have enough wit for the both of us and I know you and Cedric love to catch a snog-”

“No. Not like that,” The words felt like defeat as they left your lips. You curled your fingers in a nauseating mixture of fear and excitement. You leaned closer on the table and dropped your voice to a whisper. “Are you really going to make me say it?”

“Oh… Oh!” Fred’s eyes flashed with realization. He stood up from his chair too quickly, causing it to topple over and sent him crashing to the floor. You let out a gasp as Fred laughed and stayed on the ground. You reached out with a trembling hand to help him up, but he took advantage of the situation by pulling you down on top of him. “Are you... sure? Are you serious?”

“This is mortifying enough. Forget I said anything. It was, uh, a dare!” Your cheeks burned with humiliation while you scrambled to your feet. Fred let out another laugh and stood up without your help. Before you could flee, Fred grabbed your arm and trapped you against his body. He was absolutely drinking in your flustered state.

“Woah, hey, where do you think you’re going? A dare? Nice try; You’re an awful liar,” Fred chuckled. He licked his lips in pure entertainment and you swore you saw his eyes darken. “I’ll teach you. I never said I wouldn’t.”

“I made a mistake. I don’t want this to make things weird between us,” You shake your head as if trying to clear your second thoughts, your first thoughts, and any thoughts, really. Fred took your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tipping your head back so you looked up at him. Your mouth ran dry as you met his mischievous gaze. It was no secret that Fred was wildly attractive or that he was the object of affection for any girl in your cohort. You never thought you’d be seeing your childhood best friend in such light, but with the offer you just made, you tipped the two of you into an irreversible grey area.

“It’s only weird if you don’t enjoy it and I am a very good teacher,” Fred practically purred into your ear. Your breath hitched as Fred's lips brushed against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You couldn’t deny the fire building in your stomach that was beginning to temper your nausea. You couldn't believe this was happening, that you had actually asked him for this, and that he had agreed. “And I can’t pass up an educational opportunity. Especially not to you.”

"So, um, how do we... start?" You asked hesitantly, your voice barely above a whisper. Fred pulled back slightly, his eyes twinkling with mischief and something darker.

"Well, first things first," Fred said, his voice low and husky. "We need a more private location. My room should do nicely."

Before you could protest, Fred had taken your hand and was leading you up the stairs to the boys' dormitory. Your heart pounded in your chest with each step and your mind followed suit, racing with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. Once inside, Fred closed the door behind you with his foot and pushed you roughly against the wall. This was really happening.

“Stop me at any point, princess,” Fred trailed his lips from your ear lobe down to your jaw. He had you trapped against the door with a hand by your head and his knee planted against your thighs. He was skilled, as you had thought, and instead of feeling anxiety, you felt a strange sense of comfort. Your knees buckled as you felt his body heat envelop yours.

“Y-yes,” You said softly, nearly whimpering as you tried to restrain your hips from bucking into Fred’s leg. You felt ridiculous at your rampant desperation and tried miserably to keep your composure. Fred was delighted. He captured your lips into his and you sank into his plush warmth. You wrapped your arms around his neck and tugged him closer to deepen the kiss. Despite the rational side of you telling you to stop kissing your best friend, the deliciously irrational side was indulging in how kissing Fred felt like an electric current. His free hand snaked to your waist, gentle yet firm with possession.

As your tongues tangled, you savored the taste of Fred's lips, tinged with the subtle flavor of mint from the gum he had been chewing earlier and a general candied sweetness. The mint mixed with his wild scent of firewood smoke and woody cologne, driving you absolutely insane. You tilted your head back without any protest to allow Fred access to your neck. He deftly nipped at the sensitive skin between your neck and jaw, drawing out your whimpers even more. Your hands dragged slowly from his neck down to his broad chest until they finally landed hooked in his belt loops. You ghosted your hands over the free edge of his trousers, mindlessly tracing the space between his pants and boxers. You moved your hand down further, gently teasing his growing bulge. Fred grunted with frustrated desire and sucked down on your neck hard.

You blindly tugged at his belt with a matched desperation to free him. Fred's hands quickly joined yours, fumbling with his belt buckle in a frantic rush. As it finally came loose, you yanked it free and tossed it aside, the metal clinking as it hit the floor. Your fingers trembled as you worked on the button of his jeans, while Fred's mouth continued its assault on your neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses.

"Merlin, I've wanted this for so long. You are… unreal," Fred breathed against your skin, his voice strained with need. You thought he was speaking out of desire, for there was no way your childhood friend thought of you the same way you did him. He worked the buttons of your blouse loose and he couldn’t help himself from tearing his mouth away from your body to savor the sight. Before you could fully undo his jeans, he placed an imposing hand over yours. “Ah, ah. Your lesson begins here. Get on your knees.”

With an obedience purely fueled by desperation, you nodded at Fred while looking up at him through your eyelashes. You dropped to your knees while keeping your hands on his hips. A small part of you wanted to impress him, so you finally tugged his jeans and boxers off in one go.

“Eager student, aren’t you? Very Ravenclaw of you,” Fred grinned with a humored sarcasm. With a strange fondness, he caressed your cheek before raking his fingers through your hair so that he could gather it all back into a firm hold. You looked at his member nervously, trying to keep your eyes from widening. You realized that his “object of affection” went further than his whimsical looks and personality.

"Don't worry, love. We'll take it slow," Fred chuckled softly at your hesitation, but still he reassured you, his voice throaty with desire. You tentatively reached out, wrapping your fingers around his impressive length. Fred inhaled sharply at your touch, his grip tightening in your hair. Emboldened by his reaction, you began to stroke him slowly, marveling at the velvet-soft skin over steel hardness. "That's it. Now, use your mouth. Just the tip at first."

Heart racing, you leaned forward and took him between your lips. Fred groaned deeply, his hips jerking slightly. His fingers flexed tightly against your scalp. The salty taste of him filled your senses as you swirled your tongue experimentally. Your mind raked through what your friends had told you before and how to proceed. You leaned forward, taking more of him into your mouth while keeping your eyes trained on him for reaction. You hollowed your cheeks to apply a gentle suction as you began to bob your head. Fred’s hips twitched, fighting the urge to thrust. Instead, he tightened his grip on your hair and guided your movements that way. His free hand caressed your cheek, thumb brushing over your stretched lips. It seemed as if he couldn’t believe the situation either.

“You… you don’t seem to need lessons,” Fred hissed. You kept looking up at him, utterly fascinated by his reaction. You were enjoying the way you were making him come undone. “Mmm, move your hand down… Merlin, just like that. Good girl.”

You obeyed, sliding your hand down to the base of his shaft as you continued your ministrations with your mouth. His words caused you to moan around him. You dragged a cupping hand over the furthest part of his manhood, which made Fred throw back his head with the loudest groan by far. Fred's breathing grew ragged, his chest heaving as he fought to maintain control. The grip in your hair tightened further, almost to the point of pain, but the discomfort only fueled your arousal.

"Fuck," Fred groaned, his voice strained. "You're a natural, love. But if you keep this up, I won't last much longer."

Encouraged by his words, you redoubled your efforts, taking him deeper into your throat. You gagged slightly but with his guidance, you were determined to bring him pleasure. Fred's hips began to move more insistently, setting a rhythm that you eagerly matched.

"I'm close," Fred warned, his voice trembling with a moan. "You don't have to--"

You had no intention of stopping. You attempted to swallow what you could around him and Fred’s eyes squeezed shut tight. Humming in acknowledgement, Fred twitched at the vibration. With a hand around his shaft and the other at his sack, you could feel him close to ending the lesson you begged for. In one swift movement, Fred's hand reached up and grabbed your hair, pulling you away from his manhood. Your eyes widened in surprise and your gaze met his intense, dark eyes. Your gag was replaced with a gasp while you forgot how to breathe. Fred breathing was just as heavy and ragged as yours while he tried to regain his composure. His messy red hair clung to his aroused perspiration. He looked down at the sight of you on your knees, a small smile peeking through the corner of his lips.

“Is something wrong? Fred-”

“I want to keep going. I don’t want to finish here, but Merlin, you are gorgeous,” Fred panted. You gave a wide eyed nod while Fred yanked you up. “It’s not fair that you’re basically fully clothed.”

“An easy fix,” Your voice was still hoarse from the earlier intrusion, but it didn’t distract you from fully shedding your clothes. Fred leaned foward to reseek your mouth and took your distraction as an opportunity to push you back into his bed. “Is this taking it too far?”

“Only if you think so,” Fred moved a gentle hand down towards your breasts, indulging himself in the soft mound of skin. Fred's eyes darkened with desire as he gazed down at your naked form. “Do you want to stop?”

"No, god, no,” You mewled. “This is… extra credit.”

“Mmm, extra credit,” Fred removed his mouth from your neck to laugh at your remark. You arched into his touch, craving more.

"Please, Fred," You whimpered. You encouraged him by dragging your foot up against his thigh, pulling him closer with just your foot.

"Patience, love. I want to savor every inch of you," Fred chuckled against your skin again. “And I have to give you an ‘A’ for your earlier performance. This is just a testament to your good work.'“

True to his word, Fred took his time exploring your body with his lips and fingers. He lavished attention on your breasts, teasing your nipples to stiff peaks. His mouth blazed a trail down your stomach, pausing to dip his tongue into your navel. When he finally reached the apex of your thighs, you were trembling with need. Fred's hot breath ghosted over your most sensitive areas and he was having as much fun as you were.

“I can’t… Stop teasing, please… Fred-” You whined pathetically as you bucked your hips up, desperate for friction. Fred only tsked and held you down with more conviction. His fingers traced delicate patterns on your inner thighs, sending shivers through your body. You squirmed beneath him, desperate for more contact. Fred's lips curled into a mischievous smile as he watched you writhe. Finally relenting, Fred lowered his head and placed a gentle kiss on your most sensitive spot. You gasped at the sensation, your back arching off the bed. Encouraged by your reaction, Fred's tongue began to explore, alternating between long, languid strokes and quick, teasing flicks.

Your hands found their way into Fred's hair, gripping tightly as waves of pleasure washed over you. Fred's fingers joined his mouth, slowly pushing inside you as his tongue’s pace continued. Your body was on fire, every nerve ending tingling with pleasure as Fred’s mouth and fingers worked their magic. You wailed out an incoherent string of his name slathered with curses. You managed a peak at the mess of red hair between your thighs, only to be met with the cheeky smirk of a man drunk with desire. His smile is smug and glistening with your arousal, which only makes you arch your back higher.

You surrendered yourself to the pleasure, a symphony of sounds and sensations that left you breathless and flushed with desire. A tightness built in your stomach and you voiced your climbing pleasure by tugging at Fred’s hair. Painfully, though you did not know which party it hurt more, Fred removed his mouth and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He looked nothing short of animalistic and he looked at you with primal pleasure. He helped himself up and kissed you again deeply, slowly lining himself up with you. You whimpered into the kiss, tasting a remnant of yourself on his lips as you felt the heat of him pressing against your entrance. Fred broke the kiss, his forehead resting against yours as he locked eyes with you. His gaze was intense, filled with a mixture of lust and something deeper, more tender.

"Ready, love?" Fred murmured, pressing his forehead against you. You nodded frantically, beyond words at this point. Fred slowly pushed forward, stretching you deliciously as he entered. You both groaned in unison at the sensation, your bodies finally joining as one. Fred stilled for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size, his arms trembling slightly with the effort of restraint. You were beside yourself at this point.

"Move," You pleaded, rolling your hips to encourage him. Fred didn't need to be told twice. He began to thrust, starting with slow, deep strokes that had you gasping for air at each movement. In the dim light of the room, you could see the muscles on Fred’s back ripple as he moved, his body glistening with sweat. The veins on his neck bulged with exertion while his face was a mix of concentration and pleasure. The scent of sweat and sex mixed together, a heady aroma that filled the room and only made you dizzy with further desire. Your lips parted as you panted for air, tasting the sweetness of Fred's kiss still lingering on your tongue. You pulled his head back down to feel his lips again. The rhythmic sounds of skin against skin and heavy breathing filled the room, accompanied by the occasional moan or whimper of pleasure. Each thrust from Fred brought a new wave of pleasure, leaving you crying for wanting more.

Fred’s skin was hot against yours, his strong hands gripping onto your hips as he thrust into you. Your skin tingled with each movement, his touch igniting sparks of pleasure throughout your body. Your fingers dug into the sheets beneath you, providing an anchor from falling off the edge too quickly.

“You’re so good, princess. You’re an addiction,” Fred languished in your ear. “How badly have you wanted me? I want to hear you say it.”

“Forever… Merlin, I’ve had a crush on you forever. I’ve wanted this- for so long- ah!” You struggled with your words as your mind began to turn white hot with ecstasy. While you would’ve said anything to secure your release, you were wretchedly honest. Fred bit back a smirk while he snapped his hips with much slower pace.

“Music. To. My. Ears,” Fred grunted with each movement of his hips. You began chanting his name again and clawed at his chest to stay grounded, but you had already begun to slip. “Come undone, princess. I want to see you make a mess of yourself. Because of me.”

Your body obeyed his command, trembling uncontrollably as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Fred's name fell from your lips in a breathy moan as your entire body lifted off of the bed. Your vision blurred, overwhelmed by the intensity of your release. Fred groaned deeply, his movements becoming erratic as he chased his own climax.

"That's it, love. You're so beautiful like this," Fred heaved, his voice shaky with desire. As you came down from your high, Fred captured your lips in a searing kiss. In the moment, he pulled out and spilled himself onto your stomach with a labored breath. He collapsed next to you in exhaustion, begging for a second to recapture his thoughts.

While Fred helped you clean yourself of him and in the midst of redressing, a small sense of dread replaced the crashing adrenaline. You couldn't help but wonder if this was just a one-time thing for Fred and how it would affect the next day, hell, even the next five minutes. The thought made your chest tighten with anxiety. As if sensing your unease, Fred pulled you close, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"What's going on in that pretty head of yours, love?" Fred murmured, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your skin.

"I just... I don't want this to be a mistake. For you, I mean," You croaked with a new sense of clarity. Fred's eyes widened in surprise before softening with understanding. He cupped your face in his hands, his gaze intense and sincere.

"Listen to me, princess. This could never be a mistake. I've wanted you for so long, I can hardly believe this is real. If we make this work, it won’t change what we had," Fred assured with another kiss. He flattened your mussed hair and looked at you teasingly. “And if anything, this was just an education opportunity, right?”

“It was a good class,” Your heart fluttered from Fred’s reassurance. “Is there any homework I need to catch up on?”

“Oh, today was just an introduction to the syllabus, princess,” Fred bit his lip devilishly. “Ready for lesson two?”

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley smut #fred weasley #fred weasley fic #Fred weasley x you #Fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley oneshot #hp smut

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raekensluver · 3 months ago

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echoes of loss and love

description: you are haunted by memories of your relationship with fred weasley before his death. you feel like you're stuck in a loop, unable to move on when one day, george tells you fred was going to propose.

pairing: fred weasley x fem!reader, platonic!george weasley x fem!reader

contains: angst, mentions of the hogwarts war, fred's canon death, survivors guilt.

song rec: all i want by kodaline- "but if you loved me, why did you leave me?"

w.c: 1.8k

an: to whoever wrote that one fic where george dyes his hair blue because he hates that whenever he looks in the mirror he sees fred- count. your. days. thx !!

the morning air was cool and damp, carrying the scent of fresh dew from the burrow. you sat on the edge of the bed, your feet touching the cold wooden floorboards, feeling the weight of the world press down on your shoulders. your eyes scanned the room, lingering on the frayed curtains and the chipped paint on the walls. the familiarity of it all brought a pang of nostalgia and a deep, unshakeable sadness. you had not slept well, as was the norm these days, plagued by dreams that felt more like echoes of a past life than mere nocturnal imaginings.

george lay sprawled across on his own bed on the other side of the room, his chest rising and falling rhythmically with each breath. his face was a portrait of peace, untouched by the burdens that you knew he bore in his waking hours. the sight of him there, so much like fred, yet so painfully different, brought a lump to your throat. you remembered the countless nights you had spent in this very room, sharing laughter and secrets with the two of them until the early hours of the morning. the twins had always been inseparable, a unit, a force of nature that could not be divided. but now, fred's side of the room remained cold and untouched aside from your movement, a stark reminder of the gaping hole left in both your heart and the fabric of the weasley family.

you stood up slowly, the floorboards creaking beneath you, and padded over to the window. outside, the sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, casting a soft, warm light on the dew-kissed garden. the leaves on the trees were tinged with gold and red, whispering of the approaching autumn. it was a beautiful scene, but the beauty felt hollow, as if the vibrancy of color was only a cruel mockery of the emptiness you felt within. you leaned against the windowsill, your eyes tracing the patterns the light made on the floor.

the guilt was a heavy, constant presence, like a shadow that never left your side. you had been there when the wall exploded, when fred's life had been so brutally extinguished. the sound of the blast still reverberated in your ears, a never-ending echo of the moment that had torn your world apart. his laughter, his warmth, his very essence had been wrenched away from you, leaving nothing but cold, empty space. you could still see the look in his eyes, the flash of surprise and pain, the way his hand had reached out for you as if he could somehow pull you into safety.

for a while, george had been cold towards you, his grief a tangible barrier that you couldn't breach. every time you looked at him, you saw the accusation in his gaze, the unspoken question of why it had been fred and not you. you understood his anger, his pain, but it didn't make the silent treatment any easier to bear. the burden of guilt grew heavier with each passing day, each missed opportunity to apologize or explain, to somehow make it right. but what could you say? there were no words to justify the cruel hand of fate that had taken fred from you both.

you decided to make some tea, hoping the warmth would soothe your soul. the kitchen was quiet, the embers of the fireplace glowing dimly. as you filled the kettle with water, the rusty pipes groaned, reminding you of the burrow's age. the weasley's had lived here for generations, and it was a place filled with love and laughter. now, it felt like a museum dedicated to a happiness that no longer existed. you placed the kettle on the stove and watched as the flame grew, the heat slowly spreading through the metal.

staring at the teapot, you waited for the water to boil. it was a simple task, one that had been done countless times before in this very kitchen. but today, it felt like a monumental effort. every second that ticked by was a reminder of the moments you had lost with fred. the teapot began to whistle, a shrill sound that pierced the silence. you jumped, startled, and hastily turned off the stove. the whistle died down, leaving only the soft hiss of the cooling water. you paused, your hand hovering over the teapot, your eyes welling up with unshed tears. fred had always liked his tea with three lumps of sugar and a dash of milk, just like his mother made it. the thought brought a bittersweet smile to your face.

the door to the kitchen creaked open, and you looked up to see george standing there, his hair a wild mess from sleep. his eyes searched yours, a silent question hanging in the air. for a moment, you felt like you were seeing fred in his place, the same look of curiosity and concern mirrored in his twin's gaze. your heart clenched, and you had to look away, focusing instead on the steaming kettle. "can't sleep?" he asked, his voice thick with the grogginess of early morning.

you nodded, your voice a whisper. "same dreams."

george's eyes softened with understanding. he padded over to the table and pulled out a chair, the legs scraping against the floor. "i know," he said, his voice barely above a murmur. "it's like he's still here, but every time i turn around, he's gone again."

you filled two cups with tea, the warmth of the porcelain comforting against your cold palms. you slid one across the table to him, and he took it with a nod of thanks. "it's just… i can't shake the feeling that i should have done more," you confessed, the words spilling out like a dam breaking. "i should have been able to save him."

george was silent for a long moment, the only sound the clinking of spoons against the sides of the cups as you both added sugar and stirred. "you can't blame yourself," he said finally, his voice gentle. "none of us could have seen that coming. it was war, and fred knew the risks."

you took a sip of your tea, the warmth spreading through you like a comforting embrace. "i know that," you replied, your voice trembling slightly. "but it doesn't make it any easier."

george reached across the table and took your hand in his, his grip firm and reassuring. his thumb traced circles on the back of your hand, a silent gesture of comfort. his eyes met yours, and for the first time since the battle, you saw something other than pain and anger in them. there was a glimmer of understanding, a bridge built from shared grief. "you know," he began, his voice low and tentative, "after it happened, i kept thinking about all the times we argued, all the little things that didn't seem to matter. i wish i could take them all back, tell him how much he meant to me."

you nodded, tears slipping down your cheeks. "i do too. i wish i could tell him how much i loved him."

george took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "you know," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, "fred had plans for after the war."

your heart skipped a beat. plans? what could fred have planned that you didn't know about? "what do you mean?"

george's gaze fell to the table, his thumb still moving in soothing circles on your hand. "he had a ring," he said, his voice barely audible. "he was going to ask you to marry him, after the war. said he couldn't wait any longer to make it official."

a cold shock washed over you. a ring? fred had wanted to marry you? you felt your breath catch in your throat, the reality of what you had lost sinking in even deeper. "what happened to it?" you managed to ask, your voice shaking.

george's eyes searched yours, and then he got up from his chair, leaving his hand on the table. "he hid it," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "he didn't want to carry it with him in case…" his voice trailed off, and you could see the pain etched on his face. he disappeared from the room, leaving you sitting there, the cup of tea cooling in your hand, the words echoing in the silence.

a few moments later, he returned, a small, worn box in his hand. he placed it on the table between you, and you could see his hand tremble as he pushed it towards you. you picked it up, your heart racing. the box was old, the leather cracked and faded, the clasp stiff with disuse. you opened it, and there, nestled in the velvet, was the ring. it was a simple band of gold, with an intricate knot design, the kind that fred had always loved. a small diamond glinted in the early morning light, winking at you like a teardrop frozen in time.

you slid the ring onto your finger, and it fit perfectly, as if it had been made just for you. it was a strange sensation, a warmth that seemed to seep into your very soul, a final gift from fred that you hadn't expected. the weight of it felt right, like a piece of him that you could hold onto forever. you looked up at george, his eyes filled with a mix of pain and hope. "he picked it out himself, " he said, his voice thick with emotion. "he wanted you to know that you were it for him."

you didn't know what to say, so you just sat there, staring at the ring, feeling the warmth of fred's love through the metal. the silence stretched between you, filled with a thousand unspoken words. the sun was now fully up, casting a soft glow through the kitchen window, painting the room in shades of gold and amber. it was a moment that felt both surreal and achingly real, a moment that you knew would be etched into your memory forever.

finally, you found your voice. "thank you," you whispered, your eyes still fixed on the ring. "for telling me. for giving me this."

george nodded, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "you were the best thing that ever happened to him," he said, his voice cracking. "i know he'd want you to have it."

you felt a lump form in your throat, unable to find the words to express your gratitude. instead, you leaned across the table and hugged him, feeling the warmth of his embrace, the comfort of his familiar scent, so much like fred's. it was a bittersweet moment, one that brought both solace and pain.

for a while, you sat there in silence, sipping your tea, the ring feeling like a lifeline to a past you could never quite touch again. but it was a lifeline you were grateful for, a tangible piece of fred that you could hold onto. as you sat with george, you realized that while you would never be able to fill the void left by fred's absence, you had each other. two broken halves of a whole, trying to find a new way to live in a world that had changed irrevocably.

#fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred weasly x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley angst #george weasley #george wealsey imagine #george weasley x reader #george weasley angst #the weasley twins #weasley twins

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startanewdream · 3 months ago

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can you write a fan fic on Sirius giving Harry advice on Ginny. I need Hinny fluff!

This was sent so many years months ago, hope you'll still read it, Anon!

godfatherly advice

Summary: Sirius and Remus discuss Harry's love life. Set during OotP. Around 1600 words.

“Do you remember a girl named Cho Chang?”

It is the sudden change in their talk — they had been exchanging stories of their favorite Christmas dinners at Hogwarts — that makes Remus blink, surprised. He turns to Sirius, but his friend is now looking at the far corner of the kitchen where Harry is playing Explosive Snap.

“What?”

“When you were teaching at Hogwarts,” Sirius answers, sounding impatient. “There was a girl called Cho Chang, right?”

“Right,” Remus agrees slowly. “Ah—she was in the Fourth Year. Ravenclaw. Bright girl. She wrote this essay about curses—”

Sirius waves him off. “Fourth Year,” he muses. “One year above Harry, then. Different houses. Not much in common.” He shifts his weight from one foot to another. “Pretty girl?”

He jumps. “I didn’t notice it! I was her professor—”

“Oh, get a grip.” Sirius rolls his eyes. “Think like a fifteen-year-old boy—never mind, you never mentioned your crushes back in school, I don’t think you were ever a teenager.”

Warmth floods Remus’ face, and he deviates his gaze. “Why are you asking, anyway?”

“Hum…” Sirius seems as embarrassed as he gets. “Rumour has it that Harry’s got a crush on this girl.”

“Rumour.” Remus glances at where Tonks and Hermione are talking with the Weasley twins. “I guess this rumour is friends with one of Harry’s best friends.”

“I am not discussing my sources with you. But if you can trust this particular rumour, and you can… Harry and this girl, Cho, got friendly before the end of the term.”

“Oh.” Remus watches Harry for a moment. With his overly large shirt and laughing freely as he plays Explosive Snap with Ginny Weasley, Harry doesn’t look his age. “I forgot he is old enough to have a girlfriend.”

There’s a grunt in answer. Sirius is frowning, displeased.

“What?”

“I don’t think she is his girlfriend. From what Ton—my source mentioned, it was just a snog or something like that. “

Remus raises his eyebrows. “Just a snog? That doesn’t sound like Harry.” Sure, Remus may have missed a few — a lot of — years staying away from Harry, but he got to know him during his time as a professor. And between Voldemort and the Triwizard Tournament, not to mention all the stress of this year, he doubts Harry has turned into some kind of Casanova since then.

“No,” Sirius shakes his head. “But from what I got, Harry has had feelings for this girl for ages, but it is complicated—she was the girlfriend of the Diggory boy. The one who died in the Triwizard Tournament.”

Remus sighs. “Nothing is ever easy for Harry, is it?”

“Maybe,” Sirius mumbles, seemingly to himself. “But when Harry finally snogs the girl he’s been pinning for so long—you would think he might mention something to me.”

“Is that what’s bothering you?” Remus can’t help his smirk. “You know you owe him the talk, right?”

Sirius flushes slightly. “It’s not his silence that’s upsetting,” he says haughtily, clearly determined to ignore the second part of what Remus told him. “But rather—do you remember when James and Lily finally snogged?” That familiar jolt of pain hits Remus; his smile is wistful as he nods. “James kept smiling so much that it looked as if he had overdosed on an Euphoria Elixir.”

“And he couldn’t stop babbling about it—it was three in the morning, and he was still gushing.”

“Yeah.” Sirius looks older for a moment, his gaze far away before he nods towards Harry. “Does Harry look remotely like James did?”

“I don’t know. He seems quite happy now.” And as to prove his point, Harry’s laugh echoes in the kitchen for a moment. The cards have exploded, drawing everyone’s attention, though neither Harry and Ginny seem to mind. They are chuckling, and even though his own face is painted with soot, Harry jumps to smooth the small flames over the tips of Ginny’s hair.

“Exactly!” Sirius beacons him to come closer, his eyes shining with mischief. “And not because of this Cho Chang girl, but rather…”

Sirius’ voice drifts away, conspiratorially. It takes Remus a few seconds — during which, impatient, Sirius glances meaningfully at the place where Harry and Ginny are — before he understands.

“Harry and Ginny? They are friends.”

“So were James and Lily.”

“Yeah, but aren’t you forgetting the part where James made a fool of himself whenever Lily Evans was around?”

Sirius shrugs. “Things never happen twice the same way. In fact, rumour has it that Ginny used to have a massive crush on Harry.”

“Hmmm.” Remus considers this for a moment, before deciding it is no big secret. “This one is true, when I was her teacher, I saw how she acted whenever Harry was around… but I thought it was because of that Chamber of Secrets incident.” He shakes his head. The things Harry faced at Hogwarts…

“Very romantic, I guess. The hero saves the girl… and usually gets the girl.”

“I think the hero was too young then to care about these things.”

“And now he is older, but he doesn’t seem to be caring for the right person.”

Remus blinks. “Aren’t you being too judgemental? You have just heard about this girl.”

“I am judgmental, but not of Cho Chang. I’m judging Harry.”

“Who is acting as a teenager for once?”

“I just mean… I thought they would make a good couple. Harry and Ginny. They share the same slightly twisted sense of humour and they seem good together.”

Remus sips from his goblet, allowing himself some time to consider it. Harry and Ginny have split up now; while Ginny is chatting excitedly with Tonks and Hermione, Harry has joined Ron, but now and then he glances at Ginny’s back — fondly, not exactly romantic, but maybe there is a spark there, a seed that could grow. There had been some storm over Harry’s head during that Christmas break, something related to the vision of Arthur being attacked; that storm is gone now, and though Remus has no idea of what exactly unfolded, somehow he thinks it was because of Ginny Weasley.

“They would match,” he agrees, and then, because this is Sirius he’s talking to, he adds carefully, “but you shouldn’t meddle with them.”

“I would never,” Sirius rebuffs at once, but there is a mischief spark in his eyes, so alive, that Remus knows this isn’t the end of it.

“Sirius—”

“Speaking about match-making, don’t you think my cousin looks splendid tonight?”

The inevitable flush that floods his cheeks is enough to make Remus change the subject.

He isn’t really surprised to find out, a couple hours later, that Sirius has cornered Harry as they clean up the last remains of supper.

“How are things at Hogwarts? Any good news?”

Harry seems taken aback. “You know how things are,” he says, looking at Sirius as if he’s considering his godfather lost his mind. Remus winces, then unsuccessfully tries to get Sirius’ attention.

“I was thinking about things you might not mention in a letter or during a fireplace call, like… Maybe some romance in the air?”

Smoothness, Remus considers, was never Sirius’ strength. Harry flushes a deep red, all his attention in drying the dishes as if his life depends upon it.

“Er—okay. Not anything worth mentioning, just the same.”

“The same,” repeats Sirius slowly. Perhaps he senses that Harry is ready to run — his eyes have shifted to the door a couple times as if he is considering how many steps he needs to be away from there — because Sirius suddenly smiles. “You know, your father never had eyes for anyone but your mother.”

Harry’s eyes open. “Really?”

“Really.” Sirius looks only encouraged. “Now, James was a popular guy, a Quidditch hero, had a great sense of humor, and of course an amazing taste in his best friend, so there were girls chasing after him, but he never cared for anyone else. And he was right, because he and Lily… they were just perfect, destined to be together.”

There’s a dreamy expression on Harry’s face. Remus knows Harry is away thirsty for any information he might receive from his parents, so he may just be considering this new piece of the puzzle that are his parents. But as he drifts, destined or not, Harry’s gaze seems to fall on the corner where Ginny is now sitting by herself, playing with the cat.

And Sirius, bless him, notices it. He barely contains a grin.

“So, you get what I mean, right? When you find the one, you know you did. Someone with whom you really connect, someone who makes you laugh, who gets you. You don’t waste your time snogging anyone else…”

Harry blinks, suddenly pulled back to Earth. “Snogging?” His gaze is suspicious. “Who said anything about me… snogging?”

“No one. This is not the point, I just—”

“It’s late, I should get some sleep.” Harry glances helplessly at Remus, who nods.

“We’ll leave for St Mungo’s early tomorrow,” he agrees.

“Right.” Sirius looks as flustered as Harry does. “But Harry—you understood what I said? About the one—”

“Yes, yes.” Now Harry is almost at the door. “Good night!”

Remus gives him a few seconds before shaking his head at Sirius. “You should not have—”

“I just did what I am sure James and Lily would like me to do. They would adore Ginny.” The mischief is back on Sirius’ eyes. “Speaking of—I heard Ginny might be dating someone, I think she needs a piece of advice as well.”

“Fred and George have mentioned her Bat Bogey Hex—” But Sirius is not listening to him anymore, already crossing the room. Remus sighs as he sits to watch the scene; he supposes he could use a last laugh before going to bed.

#Hinny #Sirius supporting Hinny #Remadora if you squint #And Jily because there's no Harry without Jily #I'll post this soon on Ao3 #promise you

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georgeweasleyslostearhq · 2 years ago

Text

SPINNET?

Pairings: George Weasley x Fem!reader Summary: You fall for your best friend Warnings: mention of crying, snogging

you only started to notice the tingly feeling you got when you around George at the beginning of your 6th year at Hogwarts.

the way your cheeks turned hot and palms turned sweaty when you around him. that never happened before.

you knew what was happening, it happened to a lot of best friends, it was a phase they go through, but you never thought if would happen to you, because it it were to happen, it wouldn't gone by now.

he's a very attractive bloke. but this year is different. he grew his hair long, his face is more defined, grew another inch taller and his arms seemed bigger and more toned, probably from quidditch. his posture straightened and his lips were more full.

he was hot, but he was your best friend

but how could you not like him? he was funny, playful, and just plain adorable.

"wicked" the twins whispered as Dumbledore announced the Triwizard tournament, you smiled at them and continued listening, your eyebrows furrowing at the mention of no one under the age of 17 can put their name in the cup.

you laughed as the twins stood up and booed "you don't know what you're doing!" they yelled

"god those two are loud" Angelina spoke to you, being dorm mates for the past 6 years have made you guys really close, you guys will stay up late talking and gossiping about merlin knows what

"tell me about it" you rolled your eyes playfully

you've heard a familiar voice call out your name and you smiled, your stomach feeling like it's going to explode. you turned around and saw him

"hi George, what do ya need?" you asked, he smiled brightly at you backing your cheeks turn red.

"Angie and Hermione were looking for you, there in the library" he told you.

"oh, ok, thanks!" you grinned

"i'll walk with you, c'mon" he placed his arm around your shoulder, you tensed up and felt your hands start to get clammy, he was always sort of touchy, but your newfound feelings make you nervous.

"so, me and Fred are thinking of putting own names down for the tournament" he said casually

"what? but you're only 16, you won't be able to do that" you raised your eyebrows

"ah, but that's where you are wrong, love" he always called you that, but now it made you want to cry.

"how so?"

he only smirked "guess you'll have to fine out"

"oh merlin's beard, please don't do anything stupid" you pleaded. he chuckled as he let go of your shoulders, dropping his arm and grabbing your hand instead. going ahead of you and walking backwards, pulling along with him

"do you even know me?" he tilted his head

"unfortunately" you grumbled

"oi, don't be annoyed at me, you love me" he furrowed his brows, narrowing his eyes to glare at you playfully

"I- I do not!" you agued pathetically, your words getting caught in your throught

"don't deny it, I know you do" he teased but you began to feel dizzy from the butterflies. a good dizzy.

you avoided George after that, you didn't want to embarrass yourself and ruin the friendship by letting something slip, you didn't want him to know your secret. you didn't want anyone to know, it was pathetic, falling for your best friend.

he noticed, how wouldn't he, he would look at you and you did your best to avert your eyes.

he would try talking to you and you would get up and leave or start a conversation with the person next to you.

he would go up to you and you would rush away.

he felt like he did something wrong

it's been 2 weeks and nothing

even after him and Fred's failed attempt at putting their names in the cup, you didn't go up to him and scold him, you didn't even laugh when they turned old. you just looked at them, looking disappointed

so when you were sat in muggle studies, 5 minutes into the lesson when he rushed in, the only empty seat was next to you. he smiled as he sat next to you, trying to get you to look at him

"hey, love" he whispered, you sighed, closing your eyes and you bit your lip

"hey" you mumbled

"you alright?" he asked you, leaning closer to you

you hummed at him and looked at the board, writing your notes

"what do you think the second task will be?" he questioned, the first task were brutal, how could they let kids fight dragons?

you almost smiled at his attempt to talk to you.

you only shrugged your shoulders in response

"why won't you talk to me?" he wondered out loud.

"silence Mister Weasley, not only did you arrive late but you are interrupting the class and disturbing miss Y/L/N" the Professor yelled at him

you and Angie stayed up late again, sitting in your beds talking to each other

"so, the yule ball huh?" she smirked

"i know, it sounds so fun!"

"what colour dress are you gonna wear, i was thinking purple" she informed you

"I haven't thought about it, but purple sounds great for you Ang" you grinned

"sooo, do you fancy anyone?" she interrogated suddenly

"no" you responded quickly

"I don't believe you" she glared at you with a smile

"do you?" you asked back, she shuffled in her seat

"you can't tell anyone, promise?" she raised her eyebrows, you nodded your head

"promise" you repeated

"I kind of Fancy Fred" she whispered, even though it was just you two in the room.

you gasped lightly "do you think he'll ask you?"

"probably not" she frowned "i mean, he's really popular, you could go with a girl from Beauxbatons"

"i bet he'll ask you, you would look really cute together" you pointed out

she giggled softly "speaking of a twin, I heard you were avoiding George, why? he's your best friend" she whined

you stayed silent to for a moment, your mouth slightly open, trying to fine the words

"um-"

she let out a gasp and covered her mouth in shock

"oh merlin- do you fancy George?!" she stared at you wide eyed

you stayed silent again, there was no point denying, it's safe to say that ever since you found your new feelings for him, he was no longer your best friend, but your crush.

Angie was your best friend now.

"aw, that's so cuteee, you guys are perfect" she awed

"as friends" you mumbled

"hey, don't say that, he would be stupid to not like you back" she frowned again

"thanks Ang" you murmured, laying on your back on your bed

"let's get some rest, yeah?" she turned off her lamp and you went off to bed

it's been another week and you were sat next to Angie when a paper ball got thrown at her, she looked over and Fred was staring at her, signing at her to go to the ball with him, she nodded her head happily and looked back at you with a big smile

"we need to get you that purple dress of yours" you said quietly.

you both got up and heard footsteps behind you

"wait up" they called, you both turned around and saw George coming up to you, Angie nudged you as he got closer looking at you, you looked at the ground and avoided eye contact with him

"would you give us a minute Ang?" she stepped away to give you a bit of privacy

"i uh- i need your help with something" he looked at you

"with what" you took a deep breath, tapping your foot

"doesn't matter yet, just meet me outside of potions after dinner, alright?" he told you briefly.

even if you were trying to avoid him, you couldn't say no to him when he needed your help

"ok" you mumbled before turning away and walking back to Angie. George still felt like he had done something wrong, but it didn't matter, because he knew how to cheer you up.

"did he ask you?"

you shook your head no and continued walking with her.

you had told her everything about your feelings for him, how you didn't want him to know and that you don't want to like him because you didn't want to lose him

so she knew that you didn't want to talk about it anymore

you finished your dinner and saw that Fred was without his partner in crime, so you excused yourself and began walking to potions.

you turned a corner that led to the classroom and caught George snogging Alicia Spinnet

"George?" you said in shocked. they broke apart and he looked at you

"what do you want?" he grumbled angrily as you interrupted their session

"you told me to come here, you needed help" you spoke weakly

"no I didn't, just go away, I don't know why we're even friends anymore" your heart broke bit by bit as you saw them holding each others hand, she looked at him with such love, it made you jealous that she looked at him the same why you did

"i- I'm sorry" you said soflty

you rushed away, going to your dorm room.

it was pathetic, this whole situation, crying because he was with someone else, crying for a boy that wasn't even yours to begin with. it wasn't like he cheated on you, you're not that type of person, but it hurt to see him holding her waist so gently, so tenderly, kissing her with such passion and love.

Angie came into the room finding you sobbing, you told her what happened and she comforted you

"it's ok, there's always somebody else out there" she cooed

"but they're not him, Ang!"

"I know, I know"

"so do we all have dates to the ball?" Fred asked

Lee nodded and George sat there, next to Fred looking at you, but you refused to look at him, you were embarrassed and uncomfortable

"George and Y/n don't" Angie replied, looking at you

"I might" you interjected

her eyebrows raised as she stared intently at you

"who!" she interrogated

"doesn't matter, I don't know if I'll say yes yet" you blushed nervously, you saw him watching you.

"what house is he in?" Fred wondered

"none, he goes to Durmstrang, he's a seventh year, friends with Viktor Krum but he's super sweet" you smiled sheepishly

"when did this happen?" Lee talked curiously

"this morning when I walked in here, he said i could think about it"

"say yes! please say yes, we both need dates" Angie clapped her hands exitedly

"i'm still thinking, but i'm leaning towards a yes" you saw Fred look at George shortly and glare at him, they seemed to have a conversation with their eyes

"wait, I thought you were going with Spinnet?" Angie interrupted them

George looked confused "Alicia?" he huffed. Angie nodded her head "why would I go to the ball with Alicia Spinnet?" He continued

"Because you were snogging her in th-" you nudged her leg with yours to stop her from talking and she shut her mouth

"What? Where did you hear that from?" she glanced at you and then shrugged

He looked at you and you averted your eyes

George felt like he was about to burst. He was sick of you doing this to him. He had done nothing wrong and you just ignore him.

He looked at you with sad eyes and his began picking his nails under the table

"So you weren't snogging her?" Angie breaks the silence. Still curious

"No! I've talked to her once, where did you hear this Angie?" He shook his head

"Doesn't matter. Let's go. Y/n, we got to study" she stood up and waited for you

You got up and walked out of the hall with her to go study

"Are you sure it was him?" She asked

"Yes. I'm sure. It couldn't of been anyone else, it was him. Angie, trust me" you sighed

"I believe you but I don't get why he would deny it"

You hummed along with her. Wondering why yourself.

the yule ball was coming up and you had gotten your dress along with Angie's. but you didn't have a date, you were going to go up to the boy to say yes but he told you a girl from Beauxbatons asked him and he said yes, they were quite cute actually, so you weren't mad.

but that meant you were alone. even though Angie said she'll reserve a few dances with you, and Fred said he would save one for you, you continued to feel a bit embarrassed, I mean out of hundreds of guys in Hogwarts, absolutely no one wanted to go with you. not to say you were desperate- if a first year, second you or third year asked you, you would probably say no, probably a fourth year too, but no one through 5th to 7th didn't want to go with you? it sounded sad and pathetic.

"so you asked Spinnet, huh?" Angie chuckled, cutting her pork, glancing at George

"what?" he tilted his head

"right, I heard that, good on ya, finally got yourself a date, Georgie" Fred smiled, patting his twins back, making the younger red head tense

"i don't have a date." he denied, he made eye contact with you and you saw a glimpse of hurt in his eyes as you broke it, looking at Fred.

as much as you wanted to avoid him, Angie was always with Fred, and Fred was ALWAYS with George, so you didn't have a choice, because otherwise you would be alone, you had other friends, but you weren't as close, and it would be weird if you suddenly starting sitting with them out of know where. so this was your only option.

"but Alicia has been telling everyone about how you asked her, sounded pretty excited about it" Lee said, looking lost.

George rubbed his face roughly, looking tired and annoyed

"I've told you this, I have no ide-"

"Georgie!" Alicia cut the by off, walking up to him and ruffling his hair, he moved away from her hand and looked at her strangley

"why did you move away, you love when i play with your hair" she pouted. you all looked at him with the same look, a look that said "can't deny it anymore, can ya?"

"no, I really don't" he replied shortly

she giggled, hitting his shoulder softly, obviously flirting

"anyway, my dress for the ball is gonna be orange, in case you want to match your tie, although you're clearly already matching with your hair" she giggled again. you and Angie looked at each other, amused smiles planted on your faces

"I'm not going to the ball with you, Alicia" he spoke bluntly

"don't joke like that, Georgie, it's not funny" she laughed

"Alicia, I would really appreciate it if you left me alone and stop telling people we're going out" he rolled his eyes

"but what about us? you told me you loved me? remember? in the corridor, where Y/n interrupted us" she looked at you bitterly. George glanced at you as you stared down at your plate, the food looking more interesting than this conversation.

he looked back at Alicia

"no, I don't remember, because it didn't happen" he fought with the girl in front of him

"merlin's beard George, stop trying to deny it- I saw it, there's no point in pretending it didn't happen, she knows it, you know it and I know it, now stop" you but in, getting annoyed at his childish ways

he stared at you, looking hurt

"no you don't know it, that's the first time you've talked to me in weeks, Y/n! why have been ignoring me" he spat

you looked at the brunette who clung to George

"Spinnet, do you remember what George said to me when I saw you both that night?" you asked her, she thought back for a moment and replied

"he said he didn't want to be friends anymore"

you looked at George and held eye contact with him for the first time in a ages

he, however, looked disgusted, but it didn't seem like it was aimed at you

"I didn't say that" he shook his head

you sighed, picking up your bag

"I need to study, i'll see you guys later" you got up, walking away from the table

it was the day after the ball, you had a good time, and Angie helped you with that, she grabbed your hands danced with you, smiling brightly trying to motivate you to have fun the whole night.

but you couldn't help but notice George, alone, staring at you almost the whole time, he was without a date and was sat down the whole time that he seemed bored, so much so that he left half way through the ball, he looked handsome, he looked really handsome, it made you want to go up to him and ask to dance, but if he wanted it, he could do it himself.

you had gotten detention a week ago in Snape's class, and after a discussion with McGonagall, he was forced to not have it on the night of the ball. George was trying to prank you by messing with your work cause he thought it would get you to talk to him, but it only ended up in you both getting detention.

bringing you here

"you'll be cleaning the classroom while i run errands" he informed you

"it's already clean sir" George butted in

"then you will sort the books in alphabetical order and then scrape the gum underneath all the desks" he glared at the twin

"without your wands"

he walks out of the room, leaving you and George alone, for the first time in months

you walk to the shelves and begin sorting the books, letting the boy deal with the gum.

you knew that you couldn't escape him in this moment, stuck in this locked room with only him, so when he tried starting conversation, you knew he would wear you down and you'll end up cracking

"so uh- I want you to know that it really wasn't me, that you saw with Alicia" he started

you sighed quietly and took out books, looking at the titles, wondering if Snape wanted them by the titles or authors, you decided on titles because it was easier.

"you can't ignore me forever, Love" he used the nickname, you could tell that wasn't doing the work by not even looking at him.

"love?" heat rose to your cheeks as the butterflies came back after a long time of ignoring them.

"it was Dylan, Dylan Trellweather, he's in Ravenclaw, I found out he was using Polyjuice potion, turns out Spinnet just likes me and he likes her so well, he wanted to be me so he just- yeah" he explained

you believed him, his confusion to the whole situation every time it was brought up seemed quite genuine, and he's supposed to be your best friend, he wouldn't lie.

"I was waiting for you that night, outside potions class. I waited two hours, thought you might of forgotten and were on your way because maybe you went to the common room" he spoke softly, you felt his presence behind you.

you felt his warmth as he stood there, waiting for your reply

you placed the books in their place and scratched your nose

"you should probably get to the desks, wouldn't wanna be here longer because you didn't do it" you said quietly

"please talk to me, what did I do?" he questioned standing beside you, leaning against the shelf, you glanced at him and refused to smile at him

you took a deep breath and took hold of more books, reading the titles and putting them in there place.

you went to get more but he grabbed your wrists gently, turning you to face him, pulling you closer to his tall body

he looked at you, his eyes pleading for you to talk, to tell him what's wrong, but you knew if you did, he would be the one not talking to you. you were saving yourself from embarrassment.

"I'm your best friend, Y/n, you can tell me anything" he reassured you.

you looked at him painfully, feeling yourself begin to cry, the tears forming in your eyes as he began he get worried

"hey, what's wrong, hey, hey it's ok," he pulled you in, bringing you in to his embrace "it's ok" he cooed and you began to cry

"shhh, please don't cry" he hushed, rocking you in his arms.

"I'm fine" you sniffled

"c'mon" he let go of you and held your hand, guiding you to a desk, pulling out a chair for you and making you sit down as you sobbed.

he knelt down in front of you and held your hands

"you looked pretty last night," he broke the silence, looking up at you.

"you always do but you looked really, really pretty" he smiled slightly

you stared at him, admiring the way his hair was in his face, long enough to reach to top of his collared shirt. you took a moment to appreciate his parents for raising this beautiful young man in front of you, who was looking up at you tenderly

"I was gonna ask you, you' know. if you showed up, I was gonna take you up to the astronomy tower- cause you love that spot, i was gonna take you up there, light a few fireworks and ask you to go with me" he admitted

you stopped crying and you wiped your eyes with the sleeve of your shirt

you didn't say anything- he was gonna ask you to the ball?

"this might not be something you want to hear, because of reasons i still don't know, but I love you, I have for quite some time now" he confessed, reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ear, his hand resting on your cheek, you leaned in to his touch, letting your eyes close at the contact

"I'm sorry if that ruins things, but i thought you should know, because I don't wanna keep it a secret, I want you to know how much I love and care about you" he rambled

you looked at him knowingly, giving him a smile.

the butterflies came back again, stronger this time. he felt the same way, it seemed unbelievable, a popular, gorgeous boy like him? liking a girl like you? it had to be a dream.

it wasn't, it was too good to be a dream

"I didn't want you to know about my feelings for you," you began, sighing

"so you avoided me?" he finished for you, looking upset

"I thought you wouldn't talk to me if you found out, I thought I was doing myself a favour" you looked down at the ground

you heard him chuckle lowly, you looked at him, your eyebrows furrowed as you frowned

"I'm sorry" you apologised

he lifted you up off the chair, pulling you into another hug

"don't apologise" he rested his chin on your head, holding your hips gently.

he was always gentle with you, never rough, he would never grab you forcefully or pull you violently.

he always held you with such care and sincerity. and that never changed

"can I- can I kiss you?" he looked at your lips after pulling away slightly, you felt your heart flutter at the question, you nodded you heard, letting him bend down, cupping your cheeks and placing a delicate kiss on you lips.

he pulled away from your lips stared at you lovingly

"well then, wanna ditch?" he smirked mischievously

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#george weasley x fem #george weasley #harry potter imagine #fluff #yule ball #angelina johnson #fred weasley #lee jordan #harry potter #george weasly x reader #oneshot #imagines #oliver phelps #james phelps

1K notes · View notes

catsgut · 2 years ago

Text

Torturous//bully!weasley twins x afab!reader

CW: mentions past bullying, reader is a hufflepuff and goes through puberty summer before 7th year. Later on, this story will contain dark content such as nonconsensual sex, abuse, and manipulation. Read at your own risk!

word count: 1k

Never in your life did you think you would turn into the young woman you were today. Sure, you weren’t as beautiful as your mother (although she would say differently), but you were impressed with how you filled out the summer before your last year at Hogwarts. It wasn’t unknown that you were a late bloomer, but better late than never, right?

Maybe you would even find yourself a boyfriend, you thought as you finished packing your suitcase. It was the night before you left home for school. You never got over the excitement of getting to finally see your friends again and your favorite professors.

With a squeal, you rolled into bed and coved the majority of your face. Staring up at your ceiling, a feeling of dread washed over you. The twins. How could you forget? The thought of your peaceful summer coming to an end made you sigh. They were your worst nightmare. That’s the one thing you were worried about and it was enough to even make you reconsider going this year. But alas, it was your last year. Just one more and you would be free from the tortures they put you through… forever.

You giggled softly as one of your friends pointed as Charlie, a cute boy in your house passed by your cart. He smiled at you and continued to make his way down the train. “You look good!” she said, wiggling her eyebrows. “I see your chest finally grew in,” her comment made you blush as you rolled your eyes. “Not as much as moms…. but I’m glad I finally look a little more my age,” you agreed, thoughts drifting back to Charlie. Maybe he would notice? You hoped.. he might even think you were cute and ask you on a date! I mean, you were both Hufflepuffs. The thought was enough to boost your confidence a little. A date with the cutest boy in your house, a girl could dream!

Your day dream was cut short by a hand snapping in front of your dazed face. “Wake up, love,” the deep voice spoke in your ear. You turned your head in horror to see the red head smirk. “Pleasure seeing you again, ay?” Fred teased and you scooted back towards the window. “Go away,” was all you managed to squeak out before he laughed. Winking at you, he followed his brother down the aisle. You grimaced.

“You have got to stand up for yourself this year! It’s bad enough you let them torment you, but this year will be different. You can’t let the bullying happen anymore, y/n….” but you weren’t listening to her, only thinking about how uncomfortable you felt with his face next to your head. It wasn't the first time Fred had gotten in your face, usually to spew nasty words at you, but it was the first time you felt a burn in your lower stomach. You weren’t sure what it was, maybe how much taller and muscular he was now or the fact that he finally got a much needed haircut, but the feeling slowly pooled up inside your underwear. “This year will be different for sure,” you mumbled as the train's horn shot through the air.

Later that night as you ate dinner after the sorting hat ceremony, your eyes drifted back over to where Fred and George were sitting. The both of them were laughing with some sixth-year Gryffindor; she was twirling her hair and giggling in between them. You almost felt jealous of her, but chalked it up to you never really catching the eye of any boy your age. Actually, the twins were the only ones who ever gave you any kind of attention. 'Just the shitty kind,' you grumbled to yourself. Deciding it would be smart to have an early night, so you left the Hufflepuff table and made your way to your common room.

The empty walls were cold and the air almost felt damp from the pouring rain outside. You shivered and hugged your arms around your freezing body, feeling the goosebumps littering your arms. It almost hurt; it felt like your body was in fight or flight by the way your heart was racing. You were actuall starting to get nervous as the feeli-

"Hello there,' a voice said in your left ear, making you quickly turn your head. Nothing. "Over here," it said again to your right. There they stood leaning against each other. "i'll say, y/n... you've grown," George chuckled and made a point to look at your chest. Fred snickered and walked forward taking a handful of your hair. "We missed you, love," he said using the nickname he's always called you. You rolled your eyes, "I'm sure you did, Fred, but now isn't the time." you tried to sound unintimidated, but you were sure they saw right past that.

Your hand came up to grab Fred's wrist, but George caught it before you could. "Watch yourself, we just wanted to say hello," he spoke sternly with amusement in his eyes. Fred tugged your hair a bit to the side before letting go. "George and I were bored all summer without little y/n to keep us company. I'm excited for all the fun the three of us will be having... especially now that you've finally grown into a young woman," he winked and the two of them made their way towards their common room, leaving you sweating despite the air's temperature.

Laying in bed that night you wondered what the twins had meant. Sure they messed with you every year, but something about their tone scared you even more than usual. What had you going through puberty have anything to do with it. You had a feeling they had something sinister planned, and with a gulp you rolled over and tucked the blanket up over your head. 'This year will be different. This year will be different,' you chanted over and over till you fell asleep while down in the Gryffindor common rooms, the twins smiled knowingly at each other. They finally had their toy back in their grasp, only they were going to end this year with a bang.

Thank you for reading! I'm excited to continue this story!! i’m having fun with it:)

#fred weasley smut #george weasley smut #weasley twins x reader #harry potter smut #harry potter fanfic #weasley twins smut

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shadowtriovibes · 2 years ago

Text

pt. i: break a sweat

pt. ii: blood, sweat and tears || pt. iii: sweat it out || pt. iv: never let 'em see you sweat

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Word Count: 5.2k

Rating: E

Warnings: 18+, aged-up characters, explicit sexual content, unprotected PIV sex, dubious safe sex methods, even more dubious interpretations of how the room of requirement works

Summary: sebastian makes the house quidditch team after training all summer. before his first match, you let him talk you into a bet over its outcome that will in all likelihood ruin your friendship. (merlin, you sure hope it does.)

"Speaking of which," you say, leaning out of the hug just enough to see Sebastian’s face. "What prize will you not be winning?" Sebastian lets his hands drop down to your hips as he murmurs, "I have something in mind." You force yourself not to get distracted. "Do tell." "If I win, I’d like to take you to the Room of Requirement after the game," he says, and the way he grips your sides through your skirt ensures you have no way of misunderstanding what he’s suggesting.

Seeing Sebastian for the first time since the end of your sixth year at Hogwarts is quite the shock.

You knew from his detailed letters that your dearest friend had spent the better part of his summer break training for Quidditch tryouts in the fall, frequently flying down to the Poidsear Coast to log hours and hours at their pitch.

Sometimes he would even bring Anne along with him when she was feeling well enough to ride on the back of his broom. He’d convince her to release a secondhand Snitch for him to track down, and while he hunted it down, she worked on the assignments your professors had set to help her prepare for her return to Hogwarts in the fall.

He’d even written to tell you that he’d never felt more confident on a broom, and that if he only got to have one last season on your house team before leaving school, he was determined to make the absolute most of it.

You knew all of this, and yet when you first see him in the Great Hall for the start-of-term feast, you nearly swoon like a Muggle schoolgirl at the sight of him.

The first thing you notice is that he’s taller. Even seated next to Anne at the Slytherin table, you can see his entire head whereas you can barely make out the top of his sister’s. Sebastian had never seemed that much bigger than his twin before, but things have clearly changed.

Then, you notice that his complexion has changed as well. He’s tan from spending all summer training in the sun, his button-down shirt suddenly looking so crisply white against his sun-kissed face.

His freckles, too – there are so many more.

But that could also just be because there’s simply more Sebastian now. His shoulders are broader, his chest wider, and even his hair has grown long enough to brush upwards into a less haphazard style (though certainly not as severe as Ominis’).

It’s as if your boyish Sebastian from the previous school year had quite suddenly become a grown man in just three short months, and you can’t tear your eyes away from the sight of him.

It takes you a few minutes to adjust as you slide into a seat across from him next to Ominis, and based on the look on Anne’s face, she at least knows what’s got you so flustered.

During a lull in conversation about Anne’s return, you tell Sebastian, “You’re looking fit.”

You hope you can casually get it out of the way, and that no one will dwell on it.

“Am I?” he asks with an easy smile.

“I mean physically,” you insist, remaining one step ahead of him. “I nearly mistook you for one of the Beaters for the Magpies.”

“Sebastian could never be a Beater,” Anne interjects. “He’s too much of a show-off to be anything but the Seeker.”

“I’ll be whatever the team needs me to be,” he insists. “I practiced for all four positions this summer, so wherever they want to slot me in is fine.”

“Silly Sebastian,” Violet McDowell calls out from a few seats down, a wicked grin on her face. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you that there are many more positions than just four?”

Your entire end of the table bursts into laughter while Sebastian simply flashes a wicked grin, and you think about using your ancient magic to hurl one of the stacked platters of food in front of you at Violet’s head. (Or maybe you should simply toss her out into the courtyard.)

“Is this how it’s going to be this year?” Anne sighs. “When I left, Sebastian was just an awkward boy with his nose always buried in a book, and now the girls are lusting after him.”

“I’m not thrilled about it either,” Ominis agrees. “He had a big enough head before he was attractive.”

“I think it’s excellent,” Sebastian laughs. “It’s about time everyone realized that I’m the perfect man, and all it took was a little bit of Quidditch practice and one last growth spurt.”

“‘All it took,’” Anne mumbles at the same time Ominis exclaims, “‘Perfect man?!’”

While both his sister and best friend take turns putting dents in Sebastian’s inflated ego, he takes it in stride and sneakily winks at you from across the table when he catches you silently observing, your gaze firmly settled on the sharp line of his jaw.

Sebastian makes a mental note of the fact that you immediately go red. Even if no one else notices, he certainly does.

—

Two weeks later, you and Anne link arms with Ominis to walk down with him to the Quidditch pitch to watch the Slytherin team tryouts.

“Now that I’ve got a brilliant witch on each arm, I suppose I won’t be needing my wand as often to get around,” he teases.

“Please, I know a thing or two about that wand of yours,” Anne replies. “Last year I spent a full month reading books on wandcraft that Sebastian brought me from the library. If I had to guess, I think you can probably ‘see’ more clearly than either of us can. It’s powerful.”

“No idea what you’re talking about,” Ominis demurs. “I’m just naturally perceptive.”

Once you arrive at the pitch, the three of you take seats along the practice bleachers with a few of your housemates, who chat excitedly when the Slytherin hopefuls begin to take the field.

You spot Sebastian quickly, even among nearly two dozen others in green practice uniforms circling for warmups on their brooms. Compared to how big he’d looked at the start of term in just his school robes, he’s huge now – equipped with pads across his shoulders, forearms and shins that accentuate his muscular form.

He’d declined a helmet, of course, because despite his newfound bulk he’s still the same exasperatingly headstrong boy you’ve nurtured a crush on for nearly your entire school career.

“Between us, what do you think his chances are of making the team?” you ask Anne.

“Truthfully?” she smirks. “I think he’ll have his pick of positions, unless Imelda wants to humble him on purpose.”

“Which one would be humbling?” you ask, amused.

“Probably Chaser,” she muses. “He’d be an excellent Chaser, of course, but it’s his least favorite.”

“I’ll bet he becomes a Beater,” Ominis offers. “Without the Dark Arts, I’d like him to have some sort of outlet for his intensity.”

“Fine, then I’ll say… Keeper,” you say, smiling to yourself at your private joke that only Sebastian would appreciate. “Because that way he’ll get to stay in one place the whole game and know that everyone’s eyes are on him.”

—

Shortly after tryouts wrap up, Imelda sequesters herself in the girls’ dorm to put together her official roster and the majority of Slytherin’s upperclassmen start passing around Butterbeers while they settle in to await her decision.

Sebastian is inarguably the center of attention, casually leaning against a table in the corner with Anne at his side. A flock of fifth-year girls crowds around him to listen intently as he talks about the impressive diving save he’d made, capturing the Snitch just feet from the ground.

“He’s going to be insufferable now,” Ominis groans while the two of you watch from across the room. “There’s barely enough room for his ego in this friendship as it is.”

“Come now, we can keep him in check,” you laugh. “Especially with Anne here.”

“It’s really good to have her back,” Ominis agrees softly, smiling to himself when he hears Anne’s voice through the noise, telling Sebastian’s fan club how he’d attempted a similar save over the summer and ended up crashing into a derelict poacher camp.

Huh.

However, before you can spend too much more time thinking about Ominis and Anne, you hear the noise in the room spike as Imelda saunters down the stairs, a rolled-up piece of parchment in her hand.

“Who’s ready to meet this year’s Slytherin Quidditch team?” she calls out, and the entire room bursts into excited cheers.

She starts to read off from her list, allowing brief pauses for applause after each name. You and Ominis snake through the common room to stand by Sebastian. He seems to be perfectly calm, but by now you can recognize some telltale tension lingering in his jaw.

Anne holds one of his hands to reassure him, swaying a bit nervously herself.

While Imelda works her way down the list, the four of you learn that hasn’t been named Slytherin’s Keeper. He’s not a Beater either, nor is he ultimately a Chaser.

“Lastly, your newest Seeker,” Imelda teases as she reaches the end of the list. “...It’s obviously Sallow!”

Sebastian beams brilliantly while Anne pulls him into a tight hug, and Ominis smiles and murmurs his congratulations to his friend, assuring him he always knew he’d make the team.

There are several other girls quick to offer their congratulations as well, but you wait for the crowd around him to thin out and for Anne to escort Ominis to get more Butterbeers before you sidle up next to Sebastian and nudge your shoulder against his.

“Excellent work, Bash,” you murmur. “You put on quite a show at tryouts.”

“Only because you were watching,” he flirts back, and you roll your eyes fondly.

Since the start of term, he’s been relentless with his play-flirting. You resist it as much as you can, but it always makes your heart race when he calls you “love,” or offers to carry your books for you, or even charms little notes poking fun at your classmates into tiny birds that gracefully land on your desk during classes.

(You don’t have the heart to ask him to knock it off, because even though you know he doesn’t mean it, it still feels nice to be the center of his attention.)

“Then I’ll have to come to see you start in next week’s match,” you offer. “Especially if you only play that well when I’m watching.”

“You can be my good luck charm,” he jokes. “Felix Felicis is prohibited, but you’re not.”

“That was awful,” you laugh, but Sebastian just grins.

“Tell you what,” he says after a moment. “We should make a bet on it.”

“A bet?” you ask. “On what, that you’ll win?”

He shakes his head. “Too easy, we’re playing Ravenclaw, we’ll obviously win. I mean something more challenging.”

“You’re clearly confident,” you tell him. “What are your terms?”

He considers his offer for a moment and then says, “I’ll bet that I can catch the Snitch in under thirty minutes. I’ll even let you be the official timekeeper, since I’ll be a bit preoccupied.”

“Under thirty?” you ask skeptically. “That’s nearly professional, Sebastian. Ominis told me most games last at least an hour.”

“I’ve been practicing all summer,” he insists. “Anne would release a Snitch and I’d even give it a five-minute head start, but I never let one get further away from me than the far side of Marunweem Lake.”

“Careful, Sebastian, you sound quite cocky,” you murmur, and you think you see Sebastian’s gaze dip down to your mouth for a split second.

“I am,” he agrees. “In fact, I’ll even let you pick your prize first, for if you win.”

“Alright,” you laugh. “When I win, I want… for you to write my History of Magic assignments for the next month.

“That’s it?” he scoffs. “You could have anything and you want me to write your essays?”

“I didn’t start studying magic with the rest of you lot, and I don’t know a lot of the foundational things that Binns wants us to reference,” you remind him. “You know your history much better than I do, and I need to bump my ‘Acceptable’ up to ‘Exceeds Expectations’ by the time N.E.W.T.s roll around.”

“Love, I would’ve done them for you anyway,” Sebastian says dismissively, and you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from grinning at the nickname. “Pick something fun.”

“Fine,” you reply. “I want…”

You consider your options for a moment, trying to think of something that isn’t either obscene or pathetic. Finally, you have an idea.

“There is one thing I’ve been thinking about,” you tell him, a secret smile on your lips.

Sebastian perks up, leaning in closer. “Go on then.”

“I want you to help me set up Anne and Ominis,” you say carefully, watching him for any signs that he’s about to blow up.

He just blinks at you, bewildered. “What.”

“I think they would be a lovely couple,” you croon. “And I know she’s your sister and you’re, y’know...”

“I’m what?” he demands.

“You’re very protective of her,” you say tactfully. “But we’re all adults now, and I think they really understand each other. I want you to help me convince them that they should give it a chance.”

Sebastian is quiet for several long moments.

“Well,” he finally murmurs. “I would prefer it if Anne never dated anyone so I wouldn’t have any more reasons to worry about her, but I suppose if she must, Ominis is a good man.”

You shout excitedly and wrap your arms around his impossibly broad shoulders, pulling him in for a hug. He easily allows it, fondly pressing his nose to your hair.

“I suppose it doesn’t really matter though, since you won’t win and I’ll never have to aid you in your scheming,” he murmurs against your temple.

“Speaking of which,” you say, leaning out of the hug just enough to see Sebastian’s face. “What prize will you not be winning?”

Sebastian lets his hands drop down to your hips as he murmurs, “I have something in mind.”

You force yourself not to get distracted. “Do tell.”

“If I win, I’d like to take you to the Room of Requirement after the game,” he says, and the way he grips your sides through your skirt ensures you have no way of misunderstanding what he’s suggesting.

“O-oh?” you ask softly, squirming a little in his grasp. “Just me?”

“Just you,” he confirms.

His eyes are dark, and despite the cacophony of the room around you both, he’s focused solely on you.

“And what would we be doing in the Room of Requirement?” you ask softly.

He doesn’t even dignify your question with a response. Instead, he deliberately drags his thumbs across your hips, raking his gaze down your body and back up with a pointed look.

“You mean it?” you ask him quietly. “You aren’t just teasing like earlier?”

“When was I teasing?” Sebastian asks, amused.

“This whole time,” you insist, fidgeting nervously with the laces at the front of his Quidditch shirt. “All the flirting, all this back-and-forth… You’re just winding me up.”

“I’m not,” he says quietly. “I thought about you all summer, love. I missed you like mad, and I sincerely want you.”

Merlin.

Some bold part of you steps a little closer so you can lean in close to his ear and ask, “Are you sure we shouldn’t just go to the Room of Requirement right now?”

You hear Sebastian swallow and exhale sharply.

“N-not now,” he answers. “After the match. I just…”

He doesn’t really have the words to articulate it, but he wants to earn your affection. He has to prove he’s good enough first, that you aren’t making a mistake by letting him finally force your close friendship into something more.

“Alright,” you acquiesce, gently brushing your lips against his cheekbone. “Just don’t get too distracted and fall off your broom, because I actually want you to win.”

“The match or the bet?” he asks in a low voice.

You just take a step back with a teasing grin, and before you disappear into the crowd to find your friends, you murmur, “Wouldn’t you like to know, Sallow.”

—

It’s so many flights of stairs up to the Room of Requirement. You almost feel bad for Sebastian, but not enough to stop relentlessly tugging him up countless flights in the quiet Astronomy Tower.

He must be exhausted already, you assume. While the match itself had only lasted twenty-seven minutes and forty seconds, he spent nearly all of them racing around the pitch alongside Ravenclaw’s Seeker, eyes trained on any flash of light that shimmered like gold.

He’d even taken a Bludger to his right thigh. You’d felt like you were going to be sick just watching it collide with him, but he’d merely dropped a few feet with a wince and sped off again.

Not even a damn Bludger could knock him off his broom.

(As soon as your nausea had dissipated, you’d felt another dizzying wave of sensation take over slightly south of your stomach.)

Just as he’d promised, he quickly caught up with the Snitch near the base of the Hufflepuff student section, landing not-so-neatly in the muddy grass with one arm thrown up in the air. He was evidently clutching the struggling Snitch and beaming so hugely you could see it from your spot in the stands fifty feet in the air.

As soon as Madam Kogawa blew her whistle, the Slytherins had begun to move en masse toward the stairs, preparing to turn their common room into the official site of the year’s first not-so-clandestine party.

You, however, snuck away from the group and lingered outside the team’s changing area. Inside, you could hear raised voices.

“Imelda, you don’t understand,” Sebastian was whining. “I need to go now.”

“There’s a way we do things here, Sallow,” she had argued “I’m the captain, and if I say we’re going to discuss the game before anyone leaves, you stay.”

Sebastian had a few choice words to say to that but ultimately relented, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly while you leaned against one of the canvas walls that lined the interior channels of the pitch. Ultimately, it only took about ten minutes to discuss how everyone could improve – and Imelda’s only suggestion for Sebastian had been to try to find a dryer patch of grass on which to land next time.

Seconds later, he’d burst through the door and started to take off toward the castle.

“Bash!” you called out. “Not so fast.”

When he turned and spotted you, his face lit up.

“You waited for me,” he breathed.

“Of course I did,” you said. “I believe you’ve won a prize, and the nature of it is time-sensitive.”

He looked like an utter rake with that crooked smile on his lips. He was still in his uniform head to toe, his hair even messier than usual thanks to his helmet. He’d even kept his pads on, so when he reached out to take your hand, you felt impossibly small next to him.

“Shall we?” he asks, and then the two of you were off.

By the time you reach the Room and ensure no house elves are present, you’re both out of breath and panting.

“Come here,” you whine, throwing your arms around his shoulders and messily kissing along his jawline.

“W-wait,” he stammers. “Let me get these pads off, and–”

He cuts himself off, making a face.

“I need to clean up,” he tells you, suddenly self-conscious. “I must look like hell.”

“You look obscene,” you reply, dragging your hands down his chest pads. “Which is obviously a compliment.”

He wraps his hands around your wrists to stop you from attempting to undo the laces at the front of his trousers. “Just – just let me clean off first, the prefects’ bathroom isn’t far and I got the password off of Weasley.”

“No, don’t leave,” you whine, and Sebastian is merely a man, he can’t resist the girl he’s been in love with for years when she’s begging him to take his pants off.

“I must smell foul,” he laughs. “You’re – you’re seriously okay with this?”

“Look where we are, Sebastian,” you croon, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the side of his neck. “Just imagine what you need.”

For your part, you imagine a plush armchair where you can wrangle Sebastian into finally taking a seat, and one quickly spins to life just behind him. You take advantage of his distraction to shove him backwards toward it and climb astride lap.

“It’s the Room of Requirement,” you tease him, straddling his thighs and dragging your nose along his cheek so he’ll tip his head back for you. “If you require something, the Room provides.”

“I require a bath,” he drawls, cursing quietly when you gently bite just over his pulse point. “Quickly, please, Room.”

Sebastian waits patiently while you eagerly strip him of his pads, but the Room doesn’t change.

“I thought you said you’ve taken baths here,” he points out skeptically. “In a huge basin, like the prefects have.”

“I have,” you insist, frowning. “I don’t know why it’s not…”

Then you trail off, your realization making you go red.

“Go on, love,” Sebastian murmurs, sliding a hand up the back of your thigh to lazily palm at your ass underneath your skirt. “I know that face, you’ve figured it out. What’s the problem?”

“W-well, it’s my Room,” you tell him sheepishly. “So it, um… I suppose it defaults to what I require.”

“And what you require,” Sebastian says slowly, “is for me to not take a bath?”

You squeeze your eyes shut, embarrassed.

“I… I suppose the Room must have deduced that I – I like you like this,” you whisper, dragging your hands across his rumpled Quidditch shirt. “And I don’t need to wait for you to clean off.”

“You don’t?” Sebastian asks, his eyes now impossibly dark. “You’d let me touch you just like this? I’m a mess, I’m covered in sweat and mud and probably some blood, even.”

“Don’t care,” you breathe, sliding your hands underneath the hem of his shirt. “I want you now, Sebastian, exactly like this.”

He says some absolutely filthy words under his breath, sitting back so he can strip off his filthy uniform shirt. You can’t get your hands on his body fast enough, hurriedly familiarizing yourself with his sculpted core, broad chest, and strong shoulders.

He’s less of a mess underneath where his shirt had lain, but his skin is still warm and damp with sweat from the match. You want to put your mouth all over him, everywhere – and there’s so much of him to explore.

“I couldn’t believe it when I first saw you like this,” you confess to him. “You’ve gotten bigger since last spring, and so handsome… how did you become a man in just one summer?”

“You think I’m the only one who changed this summer?” he asks with a low voice. “Look at you.”

“What about me?” you ask dumbly.

His hands go straight for your chest, roughly tugging open your uniform shirt with no regard for the longevity of its buttons.

“Here,” he murmurs, his hands cupping your breasts through your thin brassiere. “I can assure you that I noticed where you’ve grown bigger.”

You gasp softly as he tugs down on the cups of your bra until he can lean in and press his mouth to your skin, sucking on one of your nipples and then the other.

“And here,” he murmurs into your chest, his hands returning to the backs of your thighs and sliding up your ass. “You have all these curves now, love, and they’re driving me mad.”

“Sebastian,” you whimper. “Take off my clothes.”

He helps you wrestle your skirt up over your head and tosses it recklessly as far as he can. When you’re left in nothing but your undergarments, Sebastian wraps one strong arm around your lower back and hooks the other below your hips, easily standing up from the armchair to walk you over to the bed you’d hastily imagined into existence.

Once he has you on your back, he tugs down your last remaining garment and leaves you bare and exposed to him, breathless and flushed all over.

“Your turn,” you remind him, even though part of you wishes he could leave the uniform pants on (despite the impracticality).

Once he manages to peel off the last of his clothes, he settles on his knees between your legs and skims a hand up your body, from the curve of your hip all the way up to your cheek.

“Is this too fast?” he asks you softly. “Did I ask too much?”

Your heart aches. Sebastian always stuns you with his sincerity when you least expect it.

You turn your head to kiss his palm and murmur, “No, love.”

His shoulders drop a little, the last of the tension he’d been carrying all week draining from his body. He wants, he always wants so damn badly and he would never forgive himself if he marred your first time with each other by rushing you.

“Can I touch you?” he asks in a hushed voice.

“Please,” you whine, letting your knees fall wide.

(Whether or not the other has ever done this before is still a mystery to you both, and it’s not something you’ll discuss until afterward. But right now, it’s of no importance to you.)

For a while, Sebastian’s hands roam your body without an agenda, acquainting himself with your breasts, your hips, the insides of your thighs. You moan softly when he drags his thumb along your slit, spreading your wetness around until he can easily rub slow circles over your clit.

“How do you feel?” he asks you.

“Good,” you gasp. “So good, Sebastian, like that.”

“Do you want more?” he offers, and you frantically nod, one of your hands fisting the pillow behind your head.

He carefully presses one long finger inside you, glancing between your face and your entrance to make sure you’re comfortable the entire time. One finger quickly becomes two, and when two nearly becomes three, you have to pause and take a breath.

“Enough,” you pant. “That’s enough.”

“Are you sure?” he asks you.

You reach down and wrap your hand around his cock, giving him a few slow strokes while he leaks precum onto your hand and groans helplessly.

“I want you,” you insist. “I’ve wanted you.”

“R-right, yeah,” he agrees, trying to clear his head and focus on the task at hand. “Enough.”

He gently nudges your hand away so he can guide himself inside you, one hand wrapped around himself and the other gently pressing on your inner thigh to keep you still for him.

Underneath Sebastian like this, pinned to the mattress by his hips and hands, he completely overtakes your senses. He’s all you can see, all you can touch — you even taste and smell him.

Masculine sweat. Dark brown eyes. Crisp autumn air. The curve of his collarbone where it meets his shoulder. Woodsmoke. A million tiny freckles. Metallic blood from a split lip. Flashes of copper in his messy curls. Singed pine needles.

Sebastian groans low in his throat as he presses in, his hair falling into his eyes before he frantically brushes it away so he can see you take him for the first time.

Once he’s fully seated inside you, he bends down and presses his forehead against yours.

“Tell me,” he begs, his hand curling gently around the back of your neck to hold you close.

“Tell you what?” you whisper, your lips brushing against his with every syllable.

“Tell me that it feels like this for you,” he practically breathes into you. “It feels like you’re — you’re everywhere, like you’re all there is.”

“Sebastian,” you whimper, and his hips snap against yours.

“Say it,” he growls. “Please.”

“You’re all there is,” you gasp. “You’re all mine, Bash.”

He makes a sound like you’ve sucker-punched him, messily kissing wherever he can get his mouth on you – your cheek, your jaw, your lips. All the while he’s fucking you open with relentless, eager thrusts.

He’s not going to last long, but you don’t expect him to. You just want him to feel good – the two of you have already wasted enough time not doing this, so why delay satisfaction?

You wrap your legs around his hips to hold him against you, rocking your own hips upward to meet him and coax him closer to the edge.

“I’m going to come,” he grits out, grinding into you desperately the closer he gets to his climax. “Can I finish inside?”

“N-no,” you whimper. There’s a potion you can drink to make it safe that takes an entire week to brew, and the batch that’s currently bubbling away at your potions station across the Room isn’t quite ready yet.

“Where?” he begs.

“Anywhere else, wherever you want,” you promise him, your mind quickly tossing out mental images of him spilling himself across your breasts, into your mouth, on the curve of your back.

He pulls out of you with a reluctant moan and kneels between your open thighs, wrapping a hand around his cock to finish himself off. You watch his eyes while he takes you in, seemingly torn between meeting your gaze and staring transfixed at your fingers between your thighs as you get closer to finishing yourself.

“Next time, love,” you murmur softly. “The next time you fuck me you can finish in me, I’ll take it all.”

“Promise?” he asks breathlessly, still an incorrigible flirt even when he’s seconds away from his orgasm.

“Promise,” you whine, spreading your legs a little wider when you catch his gaze lingering again.

You’re so close, desperately rolling your hips against your own hand until you tip over the edge, the rush of your release arching your back before you collapse lazily against the bed.

He shuffles forward and groans your name just before he spills, leaving a warm, wet mess all over your stomach and between your hips. You feel properly claimed – especially when he flops down next to you and immediately tugs you against his chest, unbothered by his release smearing between your bodies.

“You’re amazing,” he breathes into your hair. “Merlin, I love you.”

“You love me?” you whisper against his collarbone.

“Enduringly,” he says.

You rest your cheek against his chest and listen to his racing heartbeat for a few moments before you tell him, “I love you too, you know.”

Just then, the Room starts to rumble.

“What’s going on?” Sebastian asks, urgently peering around for his wand.

He quickly settles and even laughs under his breath when he sees the Room shifting around the two of you to provide a spacious, sunken bathtub in the middle of the room, complete with a luxurious amount of taps that undoubtedly offer an array of bubbles, salts and soaps.

“Oh, now you want to let me clean myself up?” Sebastian drawls. “After you’ve completely worn me out, hmm?”

“It’s more for me,” you giggle. “I can’t possibly sleep like this, but you’re welcome to join me if you’d like.”

As if Sebastian would ever pass up the chance to feel you up in the water.

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #my fic #hogwarts legacy fic #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian x reader #sebastian x mc #ominis gaunt #anne sallow #ominis gaunt x anne sallow #(it's subtle but it's there)#unbeta'd we die like men #how do we feel about “bash” as a nickname because it's my favorite 🥹

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weasleyreidstyles · 7 months ago

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Serendipity; snippets of navigating fifth year with Fred Weasley

series masterlist

based on a request from ages ago. its a little choppy, but bare with me, ive just suffered the worst bout of writer's block ever😓 (i'm actually so sad that i've neglected serendipity so much but im back and i have so many wips to share with you all!!!!)

pairing(s): fred weasley x fem!reader, brief theodore nott x fem!reader (platonic)

Hogwarts doesn't feel the same anymore. The usual air of magic had been snuffed out with each imposing rule that was nailed to the Entrance Hall walls. There is no more laughter in the corridors, no more soft chatter from the figures inside the magical portraits; instead the repetitive notes of Professor Umbridge's sugary sweet tone rattle over deafening speakers.

All boys and girls must remain eight inches apart from eachother.

There will be no house fraternising during meal times.

Talk of any unauthorised groups will be met with adequate punishment.

Curfew must be met by every member of the student body.

That last one still haunts you in your peaceful moments.

It's the reason you sit on one of the uncomfortable plush seats in Professor Umbridge's office, a cursed black quill clenched in your harsh grip as you write out those very words, the familiar cursive of your own handwriting etching painfully into the skin of your non-dominant hand. She was smirking at you under the guise of sipping lengthily from her pink teacup, watching as the tears steadily building in your eyes finally spilled down over your cheeks, which were flushed red from the pain.

How had you found yourself in this predicament exactly?

You were made a prefect at the start of the year, alongside Hermione and Ron, which you'd found out when you got your letter detailing which books you would need for your fifth year. You remember the pride written across your parents' faces and how elated you had been to be given such a prestigious role, one that many Ravenclaw students in your year wanted just as badly as you. It was a revered spot after all. Everyone was elated for you, but none more so than the oldest Weasley twin.

"Are you going to give us unlimited leeway with pranks now that you hold such a position of authority, gorgeous?" Fred's husky voice joked in a whisper as the two of you sat at the dining table during the small party that Molly and your mother had set up in celebration for the three of you.

"Are you asking me to take advantage of my new position, Weasley?" You ask, a small smirk making its way on your face as you fight the blush threatening to paint your cheeks at his sudden closeness.

All summer, he had been flirting with you. At first you put it down to his lack of contact to the outside world and you laughed at his well-timed jokes and played into his flirtations with rebutting jokes of your own.

But then one night, when you flirted back daringly, he kissed you. He actually kissed you. It wasn't your first kiss. No, that went to Harry in a random game of truth or dare back in second year (something you both agreed was wrong on so many levels; it was never discussed by any of you again). But this kiss with Fred felt incredible and it cemented a closer bond with the older twin, whose brilliantly blue eyes sparkled with something more whenever he stared at you after that moment.

He'd rewarded your achievement later that same evening, after the party, behind the closed door of your temporary bedroom, leaving you smiling and giddy for the rest of summer. It's what prompted Ginny and Hermione's loose bet as to how long it would take for the pair of you to get together officially.

Your elation lasted until the very moment you stepped into the Prefects' Carriage and found out who you'd be partnered up with for the year.

Theodore Nott. Notorious for his aloof attitude as well as his surprising intellect that rivalled Hermione's. He was part of Riddle's group, one of the most popular groups in school, possibly trumping even the Golden Trio. But because he was part of Riddle's crew you had learned to hate him just a little – his teasing remarks towards your friends, especially Ron, always sent you into a spiral of brewing animosity.

So when Alicia Spinnet, who had been given the prestigious role of Head Girl, announced that she was pairing you with him, you cast her a look of utter betrayal, which she vehemently ignored.

You did not speak to Nott for the entire time you were meant to familiarise yourselves with eachother, and he made no effort either; grey eyes misted over as if he wasn't even part of the present conversation altogether. Gods how you despised him.

~∞~

Upon returning to your original compartment, following slowly behind Ron and Hermione, Fred had immediately seen your crestfallen look.

"What's up, gorgeous?" he asked from his seat by the window, ignoring Ron's faux gagging at the nickname. He'd also moved further into the corner to allow you the space to sit down.

You thanked him with a quiet smile before sitting down with a sigh.

"Alicia paired me with Nott for prefect rounds. How unfortunate is that?" You mumble, resting your head dejectedly against his burly shoulder.

"You're joking?!" He says with wide eyes. "What the hell was she thinking?"

"I assume it was because Davies paired Parkinson with your counterpart, so you got paired with Nott as a consequence." Hermione said from the opposite seat. "The Ravenclaws and Slytherins in sixth and seventh year were paired together as well."

Yes that was an overarching trend that had seemed to stick over the years.

"Maybe it won't be too bad." Ginny says and you all turn to her in synchronised disbelief. "What? I've never seen Nott speak. Maybe that'll be a good thing. A mute partner is better than a snarky one."

"Just the thought of being in his presence makes me uncomfortable. Mute or not." You say quietly, so only Fred can hear.

"If he does or says anything to you, let me know yeah?" He replied with equal secrecy and you nod your head imperceptibly in response.

He lets you use his shoulder as a makeshift pillow when you find your eyes closing drowsily, brushing the loose hair that falls into your face and ignoring George's knowing glances.

~∞~

The very first round of Prefect duties was utterly boring and painfully long. You and Nott had patrolled the Astronomy corridor with lacklustre precision, both eager to get away from eachother's presence.

It was like this for a while, a few months to be exact, until you both became accustomed to the silence, to the point where it was actually bareable. No longer were rounds a labourous activity; you and Nott began to partake in small talk, to the most minute extent – in no way did this make you aquainted and in the daylight, you returned to steely looks and barely contained snarls of discontent, which was mirrored by your friends, and his. You barely noticed the extra attention that Voldemort's son seemed to be giving you as your friendship with Theo progressed at a steadily growing pace.

At your budding friendship with the Slytherin Prefect, Fred began showing up at the end of your rounds to whisk you away, never sparing Theo a glance. The two of you would wander the desolate corridors, hands interlocked as you spoke quietly and unhurriedly. You noticed that Fred, always grinning and never unnecessarily angry, would grow agitated in Theo's presence and you never understood why.

Until one night, when Fred was loitering at the end of your last corridor to patrol, Theo had said something that made you burst into pearls of laughter; his face had lit up with a delighted smirk at the sound.

Fred's face was stoic and so unnaturally like his usual cadence that it took you completely by surprise.

"Of course you're waiting here, Weasley." Theo had mumbled, mostly to himself, but Fred had bristled from where he was leaning against the wall.

"You have a problem with that, Nott?" He had snarled and you'd looked at him with widened eyes at the edge in his voice.

Eager to defuse the tension, you took Fred's hand and gave Theo a look that read 'stop being an arsehole', before leading the ginger boy away.

Theo had gone back to his best friend to report that Mattheo's suspicions were indeed correct: you had been learning Legillimancy and had unknowingly spoken to Theo without so much as moving your lips.

And Fred had no idea.

~∞~

This routine continued for you and Fred, leaving you at the butt end of George and Lee's teasing. You came to expect him to be waiting at the end of your rounds, where you would part ways with Theo before spending at least an hour in Fred's presence.

On some occasions when it was far too cold to continue wandering the hallways at night, he would tell you to go straight to the Gryffindor common room, where there would be a fire in the hearth and plenty of blankets to snuggle into.

On such occasions, Theo offered to walk you there, despite him not wanting to be anywhere near the lions' den. It was during these times where your friendship with him became cemented as pure and real. Your friends were surprised when you actively sought eachother out during lessons.

Fred hated your budding friendship, but he said nothing about it; it wasn't his place to undermine your friendships.

But it became hard to hold his tongue when Professor Umbridge unveiled her new Inquisitorial Squad, which Theo and his friends had joined in quick succession.

The Inquisitorial Squad was a massive hindrance for Dumbledore's Army. The lot of you had to be more vigilant with your timings for the meet ups in the Room of Requirement, lest you get caught out by these glorified prefects. The Inquisitorial Squad is how you ended up in her office in the first place.

You had been patrolling with Theo, who was complaining about how frustrating having magicless lessons was becoming in the lead up to ypur OWL exams (you'd felt guilty about the DA not including any Slytherins all year, and this further cemented that feeling), when Adrian Pucey and Professor Umbridge came waltzing around the corner.

"Good evening Master Nott." the Professor says warmly, before her gaze sweeps over to you and her beady eyes catch onto the flashy Prefect badge pinned proudly tp your chest.

"Miss Meadow, why are you out past curfew?" She asks with faux concern, mouth twisting with a sadistic smirk.

"Uh-" You look at Theo, who looks just as startled as you. "We're just about to finish our rounds, Professor."

Umbridge lets out a heinous giggle that grates on your nerve.

"Oh my dear, didn't you see the newest decree?" She asks, her face alight with victory when you shake your head. "I have no need for Prefects anymore. I disproved them as a group."

"Wha- Why?" you ask, disbelief painted across your face. Pucey smirks as he looks from you to Theo.

"The Inquisitorial Squad has overtaken that job, Meadow." He spits your name like its dirt on the bottom of his shoe. You share a look of alarm with Theo.

I knew nothing of this Meadow, I promise you.

He looks sincere and you believe him, word for word.

"This sheer display of disobedience cannot go unpunished." Her harsh giggle is the only sound that fills the corridor.

She hands you a detention on a silver platter and you go into it blind. You didn't know that Harry had been trying to protect you, Ron and Hermione from the same fate as him.

~∞~

She dismissed you with a delighted giggle after an hour of writing the same line over and over again.

Curfew must be met by every member of the student body.

Your hand is throbbing from the pain, but all you feel is numb. You wander the hallways like a ghost, not bothering to pay mind to where you're walking, until you find yourself at the portrait of the Fat Lady leading to the Gryffindor common room.

"Password?!" Elizabeth says impatiently, as if she'd been repeating herself over and over.

"Gillyweed." You mumble and she finally takes in your appearance, completely forgetting to open the portrait hole.

"Oh my dear, are you alright?" She says, voice full of concern, and if she were able to, you're sure she'd reach a hand out and place it delicately onto your shoulder.

"'M fine, Elizabeth. Just need to sit down." You didn't realise how tired you were, but from the slurring of your words and the speed with which the portrait swings open, with no hesitation towards the blue and bronze tie donning your neck, you must be on the verge of collapsing.

Fred sees you first.

"Meadow? What are you doing here, gorgeous?" he asks, voice filled with concern.

"Don't know. But 'M really sleepy." You say and you grip at his arms with barely any strength, which he notes with wide, panicking eyes.

"Shit- okay, come on let's go upstairs."

He guides you slowly towards his dorm, ignoring his brothers and Hermione and Harry's looks of worry. He sees the blood dripping from your hand in the dim light of the room, which prompts him to usher you much faster.

He sits you on the marble of the ensuit bathroom, the cold of the tiles barely registers to you.

He's mumbling a series of healing charms against your hand, jaw clenching when the blood flow slows enough for him to see the culprit of your bloodlust.

"Did she do this to you?" He asks, his voice as low as a growl that has your thigh clenching at the tone.

"Technically," You start with a weak laugh, "I did this to myself. She told me what to write."

"It's not funny, gorgeous." He says with a frown that you manage to wipe away with a peck of your lips.

"It's fine, Freddie."

"No. It's not."

You can practically see the plans forming in his brain and the next day, a series of crazed birds are let loose in the Great Hall, all headed straight for the newly appointed Head Mistress, Fred's smirking face meeting her's with no hesitation.

His hand sports similar wounds to you by the end of the day and you patch him up in the same fashion that he did for you.

~∞~

You don't show up to your scheduled Prefect meetings for the rest of the year, and you avoid Theo in the corridors, much to your friends' delight.

His voice in your mind is the only point of contact that you have with your Italian friend, something you keep hidden from your friends, especially Fred.

You look sad, tesoro. He says from across the Great Hall, days after your first detention with Umbridge. You sit facing the Slytherin table beside Luna Lovegood, who looks between you, Fred and Theo imperceptibly.

I'm not sad. I'm bored.

Yes because I'm sure the Gryffindor table is just a delight to be seated at.

You scoff outwardly at his sarcasm.

"What're you scoffing about, gorgeous?" Fred's voice says from behind you. You sneak a look towards Theo, who seems to have engaged himself in a conversation with Riddle and Berkshire, not showing that he was just immersed in conversation with you mere seconds ago.

"Just thinking about all the ways I want to make Umbridge suffer." You say with an offhanded shrug. Luna giggles into the palm of her hand.

"I have plenty of ideas." He says with a smirk as he drags you from your seat and into the corridors beyond the Great Hall.

Professor Umbridge may have cast a cloud of sorrow over the magic of Hogwarts, but nothing could take away the fun you'd been having in the stolen moments with your best friend's brother.

Not even the fact that he was leaving prematurely. Certainly not after you convince yourself to share your growing feelings for him, to have that snuffed out by his secret declaration.

Your chance with him is taken from you as he and George sail away from Hogwarts with guffawing laughter at the sight of Umbridge's sour face. They're off to live their lifelong dream, taking your dreams with them.

The next time you see Fred is after you watch Sirius' body fall through the veil, mind and body too numb to process any and all of your feelings. You only reach out for Teddy in your mind, a comforting voice of reason for all you'd seen. Even the strangely beautiful sight of the thestrals, that were invisible only hours before, did not phase you.

You fell into Theo's comforting embrace the moment you were able to leave the Hospital Wing, Fred Weasley long forgotten at Ron's bedside.

taglist:

(striked out users are ones that i couldn't tag)

@camille-1019 @lovelyygirl8 @xluansstuff @babeylover @thejadeazalea @undercover-smutlover @adhxmoony @dreamingofonceuponatime @thepassionatereader @urmomsgayforme5 @aphroditeisamilf @devotedlycrookeddonut @purplegirls-posts @nofacenonamelikekira @foxboyapologist @lafrone @lovely-maryj @nromanovaswife @leeknows-wife @dracygf @wildlyobserving @ravenclawprincess33 @melllinaa @vellicora @lantsovheiress @emiliahoward @stunkbiggu @vcosette @prongsprincessworld @mattiesgirl @rachmmb @x-kermit-x @sun-fiower-seed @cas-planet @certaindreampost @weirdowithnobeardo @mikalovesicecream @benwadsworthsgf @rainy-darling @faeriepigeons @lovely-blackinnon @hiireadstuff @gimalo135 @elsafromcabinsix @moonlightreader649 @blueshome @nopedefe @spencerreidsthings @navs-bhat @agent-tempest @magimtz23 @y0urm0m12 @sbrn0905 @leona-hawthorne @whatsupb18

#serendipity series #fred weasley x reader #theo nott x reader #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley angst #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #theodore nott x reader

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jamilelucato · 1 year ago

Text

possibility - fred weasley (part 2)

pairing: fred weasley x slytherin!reader

(part 01 here) (more HP fics here!)

summary: being friends with (y/n) has become Fred's biggest challenge.

note: They are in their last year at Hogwarts, so, for purposes, they are 18; besides, the whole canon of the book (it would've been Order of the Phoenix) is mostly nonexistent here.

the reader: can be interpreted as someone with ADHD; she loves literature and she has no friends.

words: 5000+

Enjoy!

Ginny Weasley was a charm, even at the young age of fifteen.

Being her older brothers around, Fred and George tried their best not to ignore her and make her feel welcomed and heard whenever needed. Most of the time, that was an easy task. But, now that she was getting older, it was harder to listen to her complaints.

“She had no right to say that to me!” she whined, angrily snorting. Her red hair moved with her face as she gestured. “She said it in front of Harry, for Godric’s sake!”

George immediately cast a sidelong glance at Fred. It was no secret that Ginny harboured a strong affection for Harry Potter; her infatuation was apparent to anyone with a Weasley surname, and it was common knowledge throughout Gryffindor House. Only Harry himself seemed oblivious to it. However, as Ginny grew older, her feelings seemed to intensify, and Fred frequently tuned her out, lost in his thoughts, while George assumed the role of counsellor. On that particular day, though, it appeared their roles had been reversed.

“Did he hear what she said?” George inquired gently, addressing his younger sister.

“I believe so,” Ginny responded, her voice lowering as she contemplated the encounter.

"Well, how did he react?" Fred leaned closer, although there was a table separating them from Ginny. The dinner table of Gryffindor was crowded with students, so leaning closer was needed for better hearing.

“He didn't,” Ginny replied, her tone a mixture of confusion and uncertainty. “He was with Hermione, and they were engrossed in their conversation. We exchanged glances, that's all.”

“Could it be possible he was simply aware of your presence and not actually listening to your conversation?” Fred suggested, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.

Ginny averted her gaze, reluctant to meet her older brother's eyes. “There's a chance,” she admitted, albeit reluctantly.

“So, he didn't really hear it," Fred remarked, leaning back slightly. “Potter’s a man. If he had heard something and something that involved his name, he would’ve reacted.”

George turned his head to face Fred. “All men, you reckon?”

“Absolutely,” Fred confirmed with a carefree shrug.

But George was out for blood.

“Let's say, for argument's sake, that (y/n) mentioned you. Would you turn to look and react?” George asked, instantly capturing Ginny's attention. She was well aware of (y/n), the enigmatic Slytherin who struggled to maintain friendships but seemed to have formed a unique bond with Fred.

“Sure,” Fred replied, not realising the mischief in his twin's eyes. “I mean, it depends on what she'd be saying about me.”

“Does it really matter?” Ginny chimed in.

“It doesn't,” George answered his sister, then returned to Fred. “But how would you respond to her?”

“She's my friend, Georgie,” Fred teased affectionately, using his twin's nickname. “I'd man up and approach her, saying something like ‘hey, what were you saying about me?’ and get it over with.”

“Get what over with?” Ginny prodded, leaning in closer to Fred.

“Probably turning that friendship into a relationship,” George answered instead of Fred. “I mean, if he were to really man up.”

Fred jabbed his twin with playful force, feeling irked by the insinuations.

“What's wrong with (y/n) and I just being friends?” Fred retorted defensively.

“Nothing,” George shrugged nonchalantly. “She's my friend, too,” he pointed out, “but I don’t dream in my sleep with her doing stuff to me in bed.”

This time, Fred slapped his twin's arm more forcefully. “I've never had a dream about her!”

Ginny burst into laughter, feeling fortunate to sit beside her brothers during this comical exchange.

“You've dreamt about (y/n)?” she asked, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. “What was she doing in your dream? Kissing?” Ginny lowered her voice, casting furtive glances around the room before adding, “Or something more?”

Fred tried to brush off Ginny's teasing with a dismissive wave of his hand despite the hints of a crimson blush creeping onto his freckled cheeks. He shook his head and muttered something about dreams and absurd fantasies.

Ginny and George exchanged a knowing look before George leaned closer to his twin. “Fred, I've known you my entire life, and I can read you like an open book,” he began in a hushed tone. “You're smitten with (y/n).”

Despite his attempts to appear composed, Fred couldn't help but squirm in his seat. “That's nonsense, George. She's just a friend, and I don't think of her that way.”

Ginny chimed in with a playful grin. “Oh, come on, Fred. We've all seen the way you look at her. It's like you're under some kind of love spell.”

Fred glanced around the bustling Great Hall, feeling the weight of the conversation. He had a reputation to uphold, which included being a mischievous troublemaker and a skilled prankster. The idea of admitting his feelings for (y/n) went against the grain of his carefree image. Besides whatever those “feelings” were, they were more complicated than he wanted to admit.

Instead of confessing his feelings, Fred squared his shoulders and made a decision.

“(y/n), she’s a tough lass,” he started saying, “I'm not going to pursue her romantically. I don't want to complicate things for her.”

Ginny and George shared another look, this time tinged with surprise. Fred was known for his mischievous tendencies but rarely showed such maturity and thoughtfulness.

“What are you going to do, then?” Ginny asked, intrigued by her older brother's newfound wisdom.

Fred flashed a determined smile. “I want to show her she can have genuine friendships, so that’s what I’ll be for her, no matter what.”

Ginny exchanged a glance with George, both impressed and proud of the transformation they had witnessed in their older brother.

“That’s actually… very nice of you, brother,” Ginny said, choked with herself for ever uttering those words.

“Thank you,” Fred shook his head down.

It was a well-known fact that (y/n) struggled to form connections with her peers. While she often blended into the background amidst bustling classrooms and boisterous mealtimes, those who paid attention could discern that, in the end, (y/n) was very much alone. Fred just hoped she wasn’t lonely, too.

And if she was (and, let’s face it, if he were to bet, that would be his horse), he would be her friendly shoulder. Perhaps with his initiative, she would open up to have other friends. But that would sadly mean he should suppress those dangerous feelings (and dreams) about her. He understood that showing romantic interest might deter her from nurturing other friendships or, worse, create an unhealthy dependency on him.

While many boys at Hogwarts might desire such unwavering devotion, Fred cherished his freedom and wanted the same for (y/n). He believed that, given the chance, she too could revel in the joy of genuine friendships.

She could feel his penetrating gaze like a warm breeze brushing the back of her neck. It was a peculiar sensation. Since she had unofficially accepted the title of “Fred Weasley's friend,” (y/n) had begun experiencing inexplicable emotions regarding him.

Sensing his eyes on her was just one of her peculiar talents. Her personal favourite was her knack for anticipating pranks by the twins; her gaze would instinctively find its way to the impending victim.

Leaving her Slytherin common room, she hadn't expected to encounter Fred. However, when she turned around, hoping to spot him, he was nowhere to be seen.

“Odd,” she thought, clutching her book closer to her chest. It wasn't a hefty tome; it was, in fact, a notebook where she jotted down ideas and penned the initial versions of scenes that might one day become her debut novel.

While the underwater ambience of the Slytherin common room often served as a wellspring of inspiration, that day seemed to be an exception. Hence, (y/n) had decided to grab her notebook and her trusty pen (yes, a pen; she staunchly refused to compose her muggle-inspired stories with a quill and inkwell) and head to the Quidditch pitch in search of inspiration.

During free periods or after classes, Quidditch practices were almost always happening. (y/n) hoped to find an eager and spirited team on the field to keep her writing juices flowing.

She dared to look around again before abandoning the idea that Fred Weasley was following her. So, confirming the absence of red hair, she resumed her pace.

To her relief, the Quidditch pitch was packed with a team of blue shirts. Ravenclaws weren't known for their blood on the field, not as much as Gryffindors or Hufflepuffs, but they would suffice. (y/n) selected a spot in the bleachers, tucked away in a corner high enough to observe everything but hidden from the spotlight. A few people were around, mostly students, but not in uniform, so she couldn't tell if they were opponents watching the Ravenclaws train or just supportive friends.

As she settled in, she opened her notebook, placing it on her lap, ready to transcribe the imaginary world blossoming in her mind. The words flowed effortlessly from her pen, her gaze seldom shifting from the training session. The sounds of players in action served as the ideal backdrop to her writing.

Without her realising it, the scene had shifted from focusing on battle, blows and gushing blood to an intimate moment between nameless protagonists. (y/n) had yet to fully develop their backstory, but they always made their presence known when she ventured into the realm of fairies: a tall, strong lad and a quick-witted young lady.

In the scene she was crafting, they bid each other farewell before venturing into an ongoing battle. Although their words hinted at sadness, they teased one another playfully, creating a certain ambivalence that (y/n) found challenging to convey.

She had just finished writing down the boy's response when a voice behind her remarked, “I'd change that. No battle-hardened lad would utter something so… girlish.”

(y/n) didn't even flinch. She had sensed Fred Weasley's presence earlier, and his sudden appearance was merely confirmation that she wasn't descending into madness or becoming paranoid. She felt a flicker of annoyance at the idea that he had been peeking at her notes, but with no Time-Turner to reverse the situation, she decided to take his opinion on board. Fred's perspective on how a boy would speak could enrich her literary endeavour.

“Hello, Weasley," she greeted him, her eyes on him as he gracefully hopped from the seat behind her to the vacant one beside her.

Fred, however, didn't offer a greeting in return. “Why are you here?” he cut right to the chase.

With a casual shrug, she answered, “Felt uninspired in my common room.” She closed her notebook, a sense of finality in the gesture.

“Of course you did,” he quipped with bitterness. “That place stinks of rich kids and Death Eaters.”

Rolling her eyes, (y/n) couldn't help but feel a tinge of exasperation.

Fred had a peculiar tendency to launch into rants about the Slytherin House, a habit she never entirely understood. She was, without a doubt, a Slytherin through and through. She couldn't imagine belonging to any other house. Ambition coursed through her veins in her academic pursuits and aspirations for a successful writing career. Loyalty to her family was non-negotiable, and luckily for her, her parents weren't affiliated with the Dark Lord, making it easy to stay loyal to them.

In fact, she'd once pointed out to Fred that he'd make a perfect Slytherin himself. His ambitions were evident, especially with the joke shop he and George planned to open. His loyalty to his family, a prominent trait he shared with most Slytherins, was equally unmistakable. His lineage was as pure as anyone's at Hogwarts, if not more so. Her own mother was a half-blood witch. Yet, when she suggested this to him, he'd responded cheeky. “But red is my colour,” he'd declared, putting an end to their discussion.

“Actually,” (y/n) retorted, returning her focus to the ongoing discussion, “Slytherin’s dorms are very inspiring. But not to a battle scene; for that, I needed the smell of sweaty and strategy.”

Fred raised an eyebrow, suggesting that he found her comment rather amusing. “Leave it to the Ravenclaws to provide the strategy, eh?”

Not having an immediate response, (y/n) fell into a contemplative silence. Her eyes remained fixed on the Quidditch field, where the apparent captain of the team was engaging in a heated exchange with one of the beaters.

“So, about your writing,” Fred spoke softly, as if dipping his toes into uncertain waters, “I like it.”

Her gaze snapped to the red-haired boy, curiosity brimming in her eyes. She was always eager to hear both compliments and critiques of her work. To her, praise was uplifting, but constructive criticism was pure gold. She wondered what else he had to say.

“The battle scene sounds absolutely brilliant,” he continued as if reading her unspoken query. “Although I must admit, I missed a few lines; you write too fast, and your cursive is kind of weird.”

(y/n) showed her teeth in embarrassment. She was not used to being complimented about her cursive handwriting, so it wasn’t a surprise that Fred complained about it, but it was still embarrassing to hear about it, especially from a boy with no better penmanship.

“But you had one more complaint,” she reminded him, noticing Fred was silent.

He gulped, swallowing dry and hard.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “The lad there. You don’t know your men.”

“Excuse me?” (y/n) raised her eyebrows, and her voice unintentionally rose in volume.

Fred quickly raised his hands, a peace offering, his intent clearly non-confrontational. (y/n) relaxed a bit, realising she'd somewhat overreacted.

“Did you ever pay attention to how I talk? Or George or Lee?” Fred asked, turning his knees towards hers. Thanks to their sitting position, he towered over her, but less than usual.

Since she'd accepted her friendship with Fred, she'd inevitably become acquainted with the others in his circle, including Lee Jordan.

“Listen,” Fred sighed, “most men aren't as eloquent as your character. They tend to be a bit more straightforward. Your 'lad' speaks in a way that's... well, a bit flowery.”

“He’s, like, from the sixteenth century,” (y/n) pointed out, defending her nameless protagonist.

“Right,” Fred said, tilting his head. “But that doesn’t actually change anything. No men would say,” and at that, he reached for her notebook without asking permission and opened it to the exact page she had been writing on. “No men would say, ‘I shall miss your sunkissed voice if this ends badly’.”

Placing her hands on her hips, (y/n) arched an eyebrow. “So, how would you put it, then?”

Fred pondered the question, trying to envision the moment in (y/n)'s book. He was not a writer and lacked the skills to be an actor, so he had to re-read the scene to know the rightful reply. He looked back down at the page before returning his gaze to her.

“Don't die,” he suggested, playing the character so well, lowering his tone to sound charming and seductive.

Unfortunately, for (y/n), her heart did a somersault in response. The scene Fred had just read involved the characters' parting words, and the simplicity of “Don't die” carried a powerful weight. It conveyed the protagonist's profound desire for his female counterpart to survive, for her loss would leave a void that could never be filled. The moment's essence was encapsulated in those two words, and Fred had delivered them perfectly.

Not that (y/n) had been planning to meet an untimely end anytime soon, but after Fred's persuasive delivery, she found herself inclined to postpone any thoughts of it indefinitely.

Observing that she hadn't averted her gaze from his eyes and noting the rapid rise and fall of her chest, (y/n) decided to seize the book from his hand swiftly.

“That was ridiculous,” she remarked, attempting to dissipate the moment's intensity with humour.

“That's how I would say it,” Fred nonchalantly shrugged, retracting his knees from their near-contact and turning his attention back to the Quidditch field.

“And who told you my protagonist is based on you, Weasley?” she quipped, tilting her head and arching an eyebrow.

Instead of being hurt by her tone of voice — this was the reaction she anticipated and expected and perhaps wanted — Fred smiled teasingly.

"Well, if you create a character described as handsome, muscular, silky-haired, and unmistakably tall, it's quite obvious to any reader that it's me," he retorted playfully.

Her mouth fell open in mock astonishment at his audacity. With an exaggerated flourish, she dropped the book onto her lap.

“And, of course, you're the female protagonist,” he continued, his smirk growing wider. “Hot-headed and cranky, who else could it be?”

(y/n)'s face contorted into a permanent grimace.

“(y/n), are you writing a fanfic about us?” he inquired, leaning closer into her personal space.

That was the final straw. (y/n) propelled herself to her feet, fueled by her irritation and fixed Fred with an accusatory finger.

“Listen here, Fred. The day I write a book about us, you can call me insane.”

Fred chuckled heartily, clearly relishing her reactions. (y/n) couldn't fathom why he found it all so amusing. Her book centred around fairies battling to regain political power; it had nothing to do with their personal lives. Fred was the one acting irrationally, suggesting it was some sort of “fanfic” and daring to entertain the notion that she would include flattering descriptions of him within the story.

If what he suspected were true, that she harboured a crush on him, then he shouldn't have found the idea humorous. Even if it were indeed fiction, he should have been repelled. (y/n) couldn't help but think that he might be secretly pleased with the notion, which irked her further. She didn't have a crush on him!

She turned on her heel with an exasperated huff and stormed away from the bleachers. However, just before she could escape earshot, she heard Fred's voice, laced with a hint of melody.

“Don't dieee!”

She was on the Quidditch pitch stands again. Only this time, there was an actual match on the field, not just a training session.

The Slytherin team zipped through the air on their latest-generation broomsticks, an annual tradition courtesy of Draco Malfoy's father. They faced off against Gryffindor, known for its fiercely competitive players. Whenever the green and red houses clashed, it was always a breathtaking spectacle.

(y/n) was gladly sitting next to Lee Jordan, narrating the game animatedly. Even when the Slytherins executed brilliant plays, his narration remained spirited. He occasionally mumbled comments about some Slytherin players but also praised them when deserved.

Only three days had passed since Fred Weasley had playfully accused her of basing her book's protagonist on him. Since then, they had seen each other and talked, but the book's topic hadn't resurfaced.

“Wow!” Lee's voice broke her concentration. “The Slytherins are really going after our beaters! I mean, sorry, they're going after the Gryffindor beaters!”

Engrossed in the match, (y/n) confirmed Lee's observation. The Slytherin beaters were prioritising targeting the Gryffindor beaters over the usual strategy of interfering with the opposing Seeker. (y/n) knew little about Quidditch's strategy, so she couldn't discern whether this was a wise move by her fellow Slytherins. However, she grew concerned for the Gryffindor beaters, who happened to be Fred and George.

She rose from her seat, her eyes following the twins' every move.

“The crowd is getting worried!” Lee Jordan's voice resonated, and (y/n) turned to face him. He raised his shoulders innocently as if to say he was just calling it as he saw it. Before she could reprimand him, Lee resumed narrating the game. “Oh, no! They're targeting Fred Weasley. Both beaters against one guy; not fair!”

Fred Weasley's name caused (y/n) to search the sky anxiously, her eyes scanning the field for his broom. The atmosphere was tense. She had attended the match in neutral black attire and sat beside Lee, determined not to favour any team. Although she had recently become acquainted with half of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, she couldn't help but feel allegiance to her house. Despite her intentions, the sight of Fred being targeted stirred worry within her. She left Lee's side and hurried down the bleacher stairs, seeking a better vantage point of the unfolding events on the pitch.

“And Fred's been hit! Fred Weasley is hit. Was it fair?” Lee's voice reached her ears as she made her way down. “Oh, I see. Oliver Wood, Gryffindor’s captain, is asking for a break, a time-out. Let’s give them ten minutes to regroup. We'll be back shortly.”

(y/n) turned back against the field and found Lee’s eyes through the crowd. She was grateful for the encouragement he silently offered with a nod. It was the nudge she needed to practically leap down the remainder of the bleacher steps, racing toward the Gryffindor Changing Room.

Luckily for her, the stands were consistently high, so in the actual field, there was nobody. She quickly reached the right spot but hesitated behind the curtain doors, listening intently. Oliver was addressing the team, urging them to regain their focus. Harry only needed to catch the Golden Snitch, and with Oliver as the Keeper, they would fend off the Slytherins from scoring further.

Summoning her courage, (y/n) poked her head through the curtain doors.

“Fred?” she murmured, but her voice carried to all the players.

(y/n) saw Fred, all sweaty, squeezing a water container over his face, drinking only half of it. “(y/n)?” he asked, confused by her presence.

She took the opportunity to step fully into the Changing Room. The other players exchanged knowing glances but remained silent; they understood she wasn't an enemy. (y/n) had interacted with Oliver, Angelina, and, of course, Harry Potter himself. Their glances spoke more of intrigue as if they were silently questioning the stage of her relationship with Fred.

Fred handed his now-empty water bottle to George, who appeared equally puzzled about what to do with it. Fred then retrieved his bat from the floor and approached (y/n), who remained fixed in her spot, somewhat intimidated by her unfamiliar surroundings.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her worry palpable. “Are you hurt?”

Fred kept moving closer. “I'm fine,” he assured her.

She nodded, darting over Fred’s shoulder, peeking at George. “And you, George? Are you alright?”

George nodded affirmatively just as Oliver cleared his throat.

“Well, let's regroup outside,” Oliver instructed the team. With that, the players rose from their seats in a flash.

They left the Changing Room, leaving only Fred behind, and George was the last one to go, for he lingered a bit, moving with deliberate slowness. His eyes remained fixed on Fred and (y/n), and as the others filed out, it became evident that Oliver had called them out to grant the pair some much-needed privacy.

As the room emptied, (y/n) seized the chance to scrutinise Fred's face. The water had washed away the grime, revealing his striking features. He looked almost dishevelled, his heart beating fast, and a rosy hue tinged his cheeks. His damp hair was in complete disarray, the ends defiantly pointing in all directions. He seemed to sense her gaze on his unruly locks and ran a hand through them to tame them, achieving only partial success.

“Are you sure you're okay?” Her voice was soft, carrying genuine concern as she narrowed the gap between them, her fingertips yearning to touch Fred's face. “Lee mentioned you got hit.”

Her gentle touch seemed to kindle a fire within Fred. His face flushed, and he stuttered slightly, turning his head to the right when she reached for him.

“Where did the Bludger hit you?” she inquired, studying his face for any signs of injury. His features appeared unscathed, although his cheeks radiated with warmth.

“It grazed my right ear,” he replied, and she instinctively turned his face further to examine the ear. It was only slightly reddened, no worse than the rest of his face.

“I'm sorry they're targeting you,” she uttered with a slow breath, her concern deepening. Her hands left his face, but Fred turned his chin to face her.

“It's part of the game,” Fred shrugged.

Fred had never seen (y/n) like this before. After weeks of their friendship, this was the first time he had witnessed her express genuine concern.

“I know,” she sighed. “That doesn’t mean it’s fair. Or easy to watch.”

“It’s not a battle,” he noted, gingerly alluding to her book. “No one’s gonna die.”

“But some are going to get hurt,” she stated, her gaze fixed on his ear, her worry etched across her features.

Fred loomed over her, his taller stature requiring her to tilt her head upward to meet his eyes and see his facial expressions. Usually, she appreciated that he was taller, but at that moment, it seemed to create an unwelcome distance.

An unspoken question lingered in (y/n)’s mind: What was she doing there? Why had she hurried to the Changing Room?

“Well,” she cleared her throat, avoiding his gaze, “if you're okay, then I should head back. You know, to watch you win or whatever.”

He smiled at her awkwardness, a not uncommon sight when it came to (y/n). He'd witnessed her awkwardness before, often finding it endearing. She sometimes struggled with conversation, especially with other people, leading to uncertain moments. Fred couldn't help but find those moments rather cute.

“You're not cheering for your own house?” he inquired, the corners of his mouth hinting at an impending smirk.

She pressed the inner corner of her mouth with her teeth, pondering her response. “Not when they're being unfair.”

“Three days ago, I swear you wouldn't have said it's unfair if they were targeting me,” he finally allowed that smirk to surface. It was the second subtle reference to her book, or at least a hint at that day, making (y/n) shy.

“Sometimes I want to hit you, Weasley,” she teased, her tone playful despite her lingering concern.

Fred chuckled, closing the distance between them, if that was even possible.

“Do it,” he taunted, his eyes dancing mischievously.

Her gaze met his, and she couldn't help but wonder if he was genuinely asking for it. She certainly had her reasons to want to hit him. First, for teasing her relentlessly. Second, for insisting on being her friend. Third, for involving her with all of his other friends. And now, that — whatever that was. She was eager to touch him, just not to do it in the form of a slap.

Something else fluttered in her stomach, and she hated it, and she hated Fred for it.

“Come on, (y/n),” he teased again, his smirk widening.

Her frustration reached its peak. How dare he jest with her after all the concern she had shown? She had never rushed to find someone before and loathed how unappreciative he seemed.

Without thinking, (y/n) closed the distance between them. Not with a slap, as Fred had half-expected, but with a kiss. It was so swift that Fred barely registered it until he felt her cool lips against his warm ones. A sigh escaped her as she realised he wasn't pushing her away.

And how could he? Fred had yearned for this moment for so long, through countless sleepless nights, because sleep meant dreams, and every dream was about her. Whether he imagined (y/n) seeking help with a prank and then kissing him, or (y/n) struggling with grades and asking for comfort through a kiss, or even the most sensual dreams where she broke into his Gryffindor dorm room wearing nothing but her panties.

Whatever had prompted (y/n) to kiss him, Fred was beyond caring. He hoped she wouldn't stop. He abandoned his mantra of ignoring his romantic feelings for her, forgetting they were meant to be just friends.

Fred kissed her passionately, willingly, leaving his bat forgotten on the floor as he held her close. His hands found her waist, lifting her slightly, bringing her nearer as he devoured her lips.

For (y/n), it felt like paradise. She'd never been kissed before, though she had read about it. Still, she'd assumed a kiss was just lips meeting, nothing more. She hadn't expected her first kiss to be like a scene from a romance novel, but it was. She experienced everything the heroines in her favourite books described: a warmth that started low in her belly and surged upward, a desire to merge completely with Fred. She clutched his red hair as if her life depended on it as if she depended on him.

“Fred! Come on!” a voice from outside yelled so loudly that it snapped both of them back to reality.

Fred was in the middle of a Quidditch match, but somehow, he had just kissed (y/n).

Slowly, he released her, and she stared back at him, her face flushed a deep shade of red, much like his hair. Her hand reached for her own lips as if trying to comprehend that what had just happened was real. She had been kissed. By Fred Weasley.

“We have just a minute, Fred!” the voice shouted again, and this time, (y/n) realised it was Oliver Wood, their captain, yelling.

“I think you have to go,” she said, her voice slightly shaky.

Fred nodded, placing his hands on his hips.

“Like now, Freddie,” she added, and her raised eyebrows conveyed the situation's urgency.

He burst back to reality, hastily retrieving his bat from the floor. Rushing toward the curtained exit, he glanced back at her.

Did he really kiss his best friend when he swore he wouldn’t?

They shared a glance. He would have to be content with that one kiss, for he could never pursue anything more if he wanted (y/n) to maintain her friendships because she was now finally opening up for that possibility.

“Don't die,” she murmured, her tone serious, but a laugh escaped her as she made the witty remark.

Finally, he left the Changing Room. For if he stayed any longer, he feared he would have to kiss her laughter away from her lips.

#fred weasley #harry potter #george weasley #fred and george #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley x slytherin reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x reader

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legacygirlingreen · 1 year ago

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My silly little HCs for Sebastian Sallow

Some of these are really random but I’ve just had an abundance of HC lately so I thought I’d share:

✨ I GENUINELY see a world in which Sebastian could be slightly messy in some areas and very orderly in others. I don’t think he’d be messy in EVERY aspect of his life. Sure his hair is messy (this i attribute to it’s natural texture and the fact he’s a teen boy and likely doesn’t care that much about it), that large stack of books near his bed and on his desk are messy and I’m sure his life can at times be pretty chaotic - but I get the vibe he still cares on occasion. He’s always dressed properly for class, no less than Ominis or his other classmates. I’m sure his papers and class notes are very immaculately organized and he’s got a system that on surface level looks chaotic but to him makes sense for his books and other possessions. I also don’t see it possible that he can be a complete slob either given how small the feldcroft house is and having to share it with Anne and Solomon (and Ominis).

✨ I think as a child he definitely had to learn how to self sooth, or find ways to entertain himself. We get hints that his parents were often locking themselves downstairs to research, leaving him and Anne to their devices and he seems very well liked by his professors - so this leads me to think that with the exception of the resitricted section and occasional mischief, he may not be as “high strung” as he’s often made out to be. With the amount of time he spends reading, snacking and just overall finding ways to keep from boredom, I can see a world where afternoons with Sebastian are much more laid back than one would imagine.

Which leads me into some loose ideas I think he’d conceive if he was dating you/MC:

* laying in the grass together on sunny days, reading silently, pointing out cloud shapes or looking for 4 leaf cloves together

* swimming in the sea in summer, sunbathing on the shores, skipping rocks

* baking the muggle way and enjoying homemade pie over candle light and engaging in thought provoking conversations

✨ I don’t think that Sebastian cares too much about his physical appearance as a teenager but I can definitely see it slowly becoming more and more a priority as he ages. Several people have pointed out that there’s a razor in their dorm and if you zoom in you can see he’s got the appearance of hair follicles on the high resolution zoom in screen grabs, so I think by seventh year he’s experimenting with facial hair. Probably sideburns or just a mustache as that would’ve been fashionable for the time, but I can see him letting his sideburns go in his least year at hogwarts. He’d claim it was “more convenient that way” since he “didn’t have to waste as much time shaving his whole face” but in reality he just feels more grown up and mature and he likes it - but likely wouldn’t want to be seen as vain.

✨ Sebastian grew up with a twin sister and is likely quite well versed in female anatomy and issues… he’s more than likely a SAINT when it comes to that time of the month, however I don’t think he’d see it as anything to mention. Likely just know it’s roughly that time again, casually offer more snacks, perhaps offer a simple back rub without saying anything, or other varieties of comfort without acknowledging WHY he’s doing so. If you ever bring it up he’d likely just shrug and say “just tying to be helpful since I know you likely don’t feel well” And leave it at that.

✨ I can see a variety of the love languages being important to him. I do agree he likely responds well to physical touch. You cannot convince me otherwise that he would not adore having someone play with his hair. He turns into a puppy immediately and it’s canon as far as I’m concerned. He also likely knows some mild form of braiding due to Anne so he probably equally enjoys returning the favor in that way. Sebastian gives me more strong touch in private but little to no PDA . Exceptions can be made for timely acceptable actions like a hand on the arm to escort but nothing crazy like necking in halls.

✨ however… private Sebastian could be a mixed bag. Initially I see him slightly nervous. Sebastian seems confident and headstrong in areas he’s familiar but we don’t see him ever feel unprepared. I get the sense he’d be anxious when he’s going in completely blind to new arenas like physical relations with a girl… So early on here May be apprehensive. I agree with the thought he would research all he could and go out of his way to make sure they were comfortable and he prevented pain. But once he’s got a good handle in it… he’s always looking to improve until he’s confident he’s making you feel incredible…

✨ Sebastian finds feminine hands to be so interesting. Despite not liking PDA I can see him constantly grabbing yours, examining them, admiring the softness, pressing kisses to the back of them, and just all around finding them so insanely beautiful despite being so simple.

✨ Sebastian sallow definitely is the type to practice his signature constantly. He gets bored in class I imagine, with as much reading as he does, he’s likely way ahead of his peers. It’s common to see him doodling out new ways of signing his name and he still hasn’t found the way that’s quite him yet but he will eventually…

✨ deep down I think he can be very self conscious. I imagine he’d find certain features less than perfection … such as his wide nose or bushy eyebrows. Dark eyes and dark features are quite common , I can see a world in which he so often feels quite plain. However the right partner coming along and kissing that button nose or playfully stroking his brow while he rests his head in their lap would slowly make him feel better about what he sees in the mirror. Being complimented on his appearance, something I’m sure gets lost in his many talents, would mean the world to him.

✨Sebastian has a sweet tooth and would 100% rock the dad bod when matured . He’s lean now with all the hogwarts cardio, but once he slows down he’s getting thicker. Just look at Solomon and tell me the sallow genes aren’t slightly husky (Also check out @rednite-dork bc she’s got some awesome art depicting a more aged up, dad bod seb and they are mouth watering 🤪)

I have soo many more but here’s some loose HCs , and I’m always down for a part 2💚

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #fluff #hogwarts legacy fandom #hogwarts legacy sebastian #sebastian sallow headcanon

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awkwardauthorwrites · 2 years ago

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Wildest Dreams - Epilogue

Word Count: 2k

Themes: an unbelievable about of fluff

Summary: Set two years after the reunion, and Y/N and Sebastian are (finally) getting married

Warnings: Potential spoilers for HL. All characters are aged up and around 27/28 years old. Quote in bold italics is not mine. It’s from the film Corpse Bride and I love it too much to pass on using it.

Find Part One here and Part Two here

Two Years Later

Sebastian stood by the fountain at the north entrance of Hogwarts castle and couldn’t help but think of the last time he had been here - how it felt like he couldn’t get Y/N out of there fast enough. It was a stark parallel to the present, where he shuffled between his feet with nervous energy and willed her to move a little faster so that he could finally see her. When he approached Headmaster Black about getting married in the gardens he had half expected the man to laugh in his face and reject him. Instead, he clapped him on the shoulder and agreed without a second thought, muttering about how it would do wonders for the image of the school if the Hero of Hogwarts chose to return there for the most important day of her life. Sebastian itched to shake him off and find a different venue instead, but he knew Y/N wanted nothing more than to get married in the first place she had truly called home, and so he begrudgingly thanked his old Headmaster and informed him of their plans.

They had decided to get married in the summer, partially so they wouldn’t disturb any students, but also because it offered them the best weather for their outdoor ceremony. They would have both much preferred a winter wedding so they could see the grounds covered in snow, but decided it would be easier (and warmer) to get married earlier in the year so they didn’t have to worry about constantly casting warming charms. Sebastian had to admit, the summer flowers added a beautiful touch to the whole affair, his eyes darting over the different array of colours in the gardens around him.

“Stop moving so much,” Ominous nudged him gently. “You’re making me nervous.”

“You’re nervous?” Sebastian laughed and nudged his friend and brother back. “I’m so sorry for putting you out on my wedding day.”

“Apology accepted.” Ominis smirked at him, his head tilting to the side slightly as the guests in front of them talked amongst themselves. Sebastian began to fiddle with his cufflinks as he watched their guests arrive and take their seats, nodding in greeting to those who caught his eye. “You seem jumpier than usual, are you alright?”

“I can’t wait to see her.”

“I remember that feeling.” He smiled softly to himself as he remembered his own wedding day with Anne, how anxious he had been as he waited for her arrival. He would have much preferred to run away and elope as opposed to having all the attention on them both, but he knew she wanted a proper ceremony and he wanted to do things right by her. “We should be starting soon. Are you ready?”

“I was ready the day she said yes.”

“You’re not going to burst into song, are you?”

“Shut up, you prick.” The pair laughed as the music that was playing quietly in the background swelled and a hush fell over the guests. The officiant walked over to Sebastian and Ominis, a large smile on his face as he shook both of their hands and they waited for the bridal party.

Sebastian watched with bated breath as the doors to the castle swung open right as the enchanted instruments started to play the bridal march. The guests stood and turned to watch Anne walk out first, gently leading both of her twins down the aisle. Arabella threw flower petals at random intervals while Alexander clung to his mothers skirts, a toothy grin coming over the toddler’s face as he noticed both his father and his uncle waiting at the other end of the aisle. Sebastian couldn’t help but laugh as Alexander wrapped his arms around his knees while Arabella ran for her father, the rest of the flower petals forgotten. He scooped his nephew into a hug and pressed a kiss to his chubby cheek before passing him off to Anne who gave his arm a gentle squeeze before standing on the other end of the altar.

Poppy and Imelda came out next, both of them looking beautiful in their bridesmaid dresses, with the former giving Sebastian an encouraging smile as the latter sent him a glare and mimed that she was watching him. He chuckled and pulled both of the girls in for a hug before they joined Anne, muttering to Imelda about how he knew she was secretly pleased they had finally decided to tie the knot. She flicked his shoulder, but there was an obvious smile on her face as she stood by Anne and Poppy. The music swelled and went quiet for a few moments before picking up again softly as Y/N appeared in the doorway.

Sebastian felt all the breath leave his lungs as she came into view and he unconsciously pressed a hand to his chest as she caught his eye and gave him a heart stopping smile. He felt his eyes burn as she started to walk towards him slowly and willed the music to play faster so she could reach him quicker and he could take her in his arms. Y/N had always been the most beautiful girl he had ever seen - even back when he had first met her - but the words did not do her justice in that moment as she practically floated down the aisle towards him.

“Breathe, Sebastian.” Ominis nudged him gently and he took in a shaky breath and quickly reached up to brush away a tear before it could escape. He couldn’t look away from her even if he wanted to. He would never be able to put into words how absolutely ethereal she looked, her white dress almost glowing in the afternoon sun. Y/N (finally) neared him and took his hand and Sebastian was hit with a sudden moment of realisation at just how lucky he was. He was so much closer to spending the rest of his life with his best friend and he couldn’t wait.

“Hey, you.” Y/N smiled shyly at him as she took her place by his side, his hand clutching onto hers tightly. Her gaze softened as she noticed the tears that were threatening to spill from his eyes and reached up to brush them away gently. “Good tears, I hope?”

“Merlin, yes.” Sebastian breathed, his voice cracking slightly due to his emotions. “The best.” He resisted the urge to tug her against him and kiss her like they weren’t surrounded by their friends and family, and instead settled on standing a little closer than necessary and pressing his lips to her knuckles softly. “You are stunning.”

“Look who’s talking.” Y/N’s gaze ran over his suit appreciatively and his grip on her hand tightened fractionally as he remembered that they needed to get married first before he could whisk her away and have his way with her. He was vaguely aware of the officiant starting the ceremony, sharing anecdotes about love and friendship that he couldn’t pay attention to as he stared at the woman standing in front of him. He didn’t know what he had done in a past life to deserve her, but he would spend every day of the rest of his life - the rest of their lives - showing her just how much she meant to him.

“I love you,” he mouthed the words, his lips twitching into a smile as he watched her flush delicately.

“I love you more.”

“Impossible.” He frowned playfully and shook his head as she continued to stare at him with pure adoration on her features.

Neither of them could believe this day was finally here. If anyone had told Sebastian and Y/N when they first met all those years ago that they would be standing where it all started, surrounded by their loved ones, both of them would have blushed and stuttered in protest; but here they were, and Sebastian could think of nowhere else in the world he would rather be. He always thought his favourite version of Y/N would be her first thing in the morning, and that had been true from the very first moment he had woken with her in his arms two years ago up until that exact moment. Nothing would ever compare to how completely and utterly captivating she was, looking like his own personal divine being.

“...Sebastian?” Y/N muttered his name, a coy smile playing on her face.

“Sorry. I’m here,” he offered the officiant a sheepish smile and shrugged one of his shoulders while tilting his head in Y/N’s direction as if to say, can you blame me? “Could you repeat that, please?”

“Do you, Sebastian Sallow, take Y/N Y/L/N to be your wife? To - ”

“I do.” The minister, as well as their audience, laughed as Sebastian interrupted with a cheeky smile on his face as he glanced at Y/N. He had waited so long for this moment and now that it was here he just wanted to skip forward to the most important part. He knew he should be a little more patient and show some restraint, but had been waiting for this for longer than he would ever admit. He wanted to be able to finally call Y/N his wife.

“Very well, then.” The preacher turned to Y/N, amusement sparkling in his eyes. “And do you, Y/N Y/L/N, take Sebastian Sallow to be your husband? To live together in matrimony, to love, honour, comfort and to keep in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do.” A tear slipped down Y/N’s face as she took in the look of pure devotion on Sebastian’s face. She had never been more sure of a decision in her entire life.

“You each have a ring for the other,” the officiant looked between the pair, taking note of both of their living smiles and unshed tears. “These are placed on each other’s fingers as a visible sign of the vows which you have taken today which have bound you both together as husband and wife. I hope they always remind you of your promise and love for each other.” He looked over at Sebastian, who in turn took the ring from Ominis’ outstretched hand. He thought his hands would shake during this part, but they remained steady as he slipped the ring on Y/N’s finger, his heart thumping in his chest as he did so.

“With this hand I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine. With this candle, I will light your way in darkness. With this ring, I ask you to be mine.” He brushed a stray tear from Y/N’s face and gently kissed the piece of jewellery before letting her turn to Anne so she could get his ring.

“With this hand I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine. With this candle, I will light your way in darkness. With this ring, I ask you to be mine.” She repeated the vow back to him, her voice wavering slightly as she slid the wedding band onto his ring finger, the metal gleaming in the afternoon sun.

“I’ve been told you have both been through many adventures together, but let us begin this one with a kiss. I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

Sebastian was already tugging Y/N towards him before the words were finished, both of his hands resting on her waist as he dipped down to press his lips to hers. He thought his heart was about to beat out of his chest as she wound her hands up to the back of his head and pulled him in closer, the crowd fading out of his mind as he held onto her tightly. Imelda whistled loudly as their kiss lasted long enough to be indecent and Y/N broke away to laugh, her face flushing as Sebastian tried to chase her lips and pull her back into another kiss. She grinned at him and pressed a sweet, chaste peck on his lips.

“How do you feel about being a married man, Mr Sallow?”

“You’ve made me the happiest man in the world, Mrs Sallow.”

#sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x y/n #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian x mc #sebastian x reader #sebastian sallow fluff #sebastian sallow x slytherin!reader #sebastian sallow fic #sebastian sallow x fem!reader #hogwarts game #hogwarts #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #hogwarts legacy #awkwardauthor #awkwardauthorwrites #awkwardauthormasterlist

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everythingharrypotterblog · 1 year ago

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charmed [16]: 'cat, rat, dog, and dove' (remus lupin x reader)

a/n: WELCOME BACK TO CHARMED. WE ARE HERE. we have arrived to this moment. BUCKLE THE FUCKING FUCK UP.

brief summary: the year has culminated into this one fateful night at the shrieking shack. word count: 9k

series summary: if you're here, u know what this series is abt im not gonna waste space and recopy it here THIS CHAPTER IS ALREADY TOO LOADED.

series masterlist here

join taglist here

16.

The sun was out. Its rays peeking through the leaves of trees, their heat was much stronger in this month of spring than it was in autumn, when Y/N and Remus took their first early morning walk to escape from the Castle. It became a habit they maintained all school year, and it was so hard to believe that they had already walked their way to final examinations season. Two terms had rolled by, laying down all the tiles needed to strengthen their relationship even more.

Y/N’s arm was around Remus’ bicep. It was warm enough now for them to abandon their jackets, and they strolled through the Castle grounds in simple button-ups.

Remus peeked down at Y/N, who by reflex caught his eye. He shut an eye tightly in an exaggerated wink. Y/N smiled, resting her head against his arm for a second.

“Can’t wait for our kid to experience all that is Hogwarts.” Remus said.

Y/N’s eyebrows knit together as she beamed up at him.

“Rem…”

Their chests burned from elation as they continued in their stride.

“Thinking a bit ahead though, don’t you think, we’ve got more than 11 years before we get to that point.” Y/N chuckled.

“Oh, you’re right. Before that, it’ll be you n’ me teaching them.”

“I agree with you. Sending them to Muggle primary school seems way too risky for exposure.”

“I do worry about socialization though.”

“Hmm. Me too. We should probably get in touch with other wizard families that have children the same age as ours.”

They came to a small halt as they overlooked the train tracks.

“I can’t wait for our kid to get on the train for the first time.” Y/N sighed.

Remus patted her hand in his. “What did you feel your first time on it?”

“Terrified.” Y/N chortled. “I was anxious even as a child. You?”

“Me too. But I guess, something really deep inside me- I don’t know. I just felt like my life was going to change, I guess.”

Y/N smiled softly at the gentle man before her.

“And we have to take that train really soon again.”

“Yeah.”

“Crazy.”

They continued walking, the castle of Hogwarts standing tall against them, hovering and watching over them as it has done for so long.

As the year continued to draw to a close, the exam season proceeded on. Today were the Charms finals for the 3rd-years, as well as the 5th-years’ OWL’s. Even the Weasley twins had been spotted with their books open, working in a corner of the library.

Y/N downed the last of her tea, as she rifled through a pack of fresh grading sheets. She waved her wand, and yesterday’s 2nd-year evaluations floated upwards, inserted themselves neatly in a folder, and slid themselves into her briefcase.

She clapped her hands together and got up to the door, opening it to a crowd of her 3rd-years.

“Ready?”

She let them trickle in and take their seats at the individually separated desks. Walking through the aisles, she placed an exam sheet on each one facing down.

“Alright, everyone, please get your things straight and then leave your bags up here in the front. Remember, you’re only allowed your quills for the written part.”

“You guys have one hour. Don’t forget to check both sides of the paper. Time starts… now.”

A synchronized whoosh of 30 papers being flipped over echoed across the room, followed by the etching of quills.

Y/N hated the written exams. She had nothing to do but to count the tiles in the classroom and twiddle her thumbs.

She was on her 5th recount of how many tiles spanned from one wall to another when a figure flashed in her peripheral.

Remus had passed by and judging the complete silence, assumed Y/N was sitting an exam. He waved cheerily, happy he had opted for practical examinations. Y/N rolled her eyes when she spotted him. Remus turned back around and passed the classroom door again.

“STOP.” Y/N mouth silently, gesturing to her students.

A few of them looked up and laughed, leading to a few more turning their heads.

“Enough.” Y/N shook her head, waving her wand and the door slammed shut, Remus disappearing from their sights.

“Professor Lupin’s just gloating that all his finals are over.” Y/N hushed the group. “Now get on, I’m not giving you extra time.”

She winked at the end, and the students returned to their scrolls, the atmosphere in the classroom noticeably lighter.

Light filled the room as Y/N clicked the lamp open. She turned to her side to find Remus wide awake as well.

“Can’t sleep?” She muttered.

“Nope.”

Y/N huffed, stacking her pillows and coming up to a seated position.

“It’s the full moon soon. How are you feeling?”

“The usual.” Remus yawned, turning on his side. He examined the grey circles under Y/N’s eyes through his wrinkle-decorated own. “I just feel a bit weird.”

“Hm.” Y/N responded. “Me too.”

“We’re probably just tired from so many back to back exams and all the grading.”

“Yeah. And my heart is kind of hurting. I just can’t really believe this year is ending. This has been the best job I’ve ever had in my whole life.”

Remus slid his hand under the covers to find hers.

“All good things must come to an end, my love.”

Y/N smiled sadly.

“What are the odds Flitwick needs another year off, eh?”

Remus chuckled.

Y/N clicked the lamp off and the two laid back in once again total darkness. Outside their window, roamed the creatures of the night. Centaurs, unicorns trudging across the Forbidden Forest, Dementors floating outside the Castle perimeter, and strolling stealthily in the Hogsmeade village; a ginger cat and its newfound friend, a big shaggy black dog.

Remus strolled along on his daily walk of the Castle grounds. Y/N had opted to stay in bed well into the afternoon that day, feeling more tired than usual.

He found a tree stump near Hagrid’s Hut and installed himself comfortably under it. He pulled a book from the pocket of his robes and opened it to the page he had last marked. About three quarters of an hour passed when he noticed Harry, Hermione and Ron come down and go into Hagrid’s. He returned to his book.

A small while later, he noticed more figures make their way to that direction. One sported a bowler hat, which he recognized as the Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge, and two wizards followed him. One of them had a shiny axe attached to his belt, which glistened when it caught the sun.

Comprehension dawned upon Remus. He had heard of Hagrid’s Hippogriff case with Malfoy and the Ministry, and Y/N had told him in passing of the Harry and his friends’ interest in the outcome.

They emerged from the hut and crossed paths with the men. Remus closed his book. Those three better not involve themselves any further with the case, he thought. He didn’t want them to be exposed to the execution.

"THE DARK LORD LIES ALONE AND FRIENDLESS, ABANDONED BY HIS FOLLOWERS. HIS SERVANT HAS BEEN CHAINED THESE TWELVE YEARS. TONIGHT, BEFORE

MIDNIGHT... THE SERVANT WILL BREAK FREE AND SET OUT TO REJOIN HIS MASTER. THE DARK LORD WILL RISE AGAIN WITH HIS SERVANTS AID, GREATER AND

MORE TERRIBLE THAN EVER HE WAS. TONIGHT... BEFORE MIDNIGHT... THE SERVANT... WILL SET OU... TO REJOIN... HIS MASTER....

Harry dropped the crystal ball he was supposed to return to Professor Trelawney and ran.

Thus began a very fateful night.

Remus walked through the Castle that evening and felt a weird shift in the air. Exams were over sure, but there was a certain trio that seemed the opposite of celebratory. Making his way down to the Great Hall, he took a seat next to Professor Sprout.

“Evening, Lupin.” She said happily.

“Good evening, Professor.” He responded kindly.

“Y/N coming soon?”

“Hm? Oh, I’m not sure, she’s taking a nap now. She’s been awfully tired this past week.”

“That’s okay, classic end-of-year burnout” she replied, then proceeded to ask him how if he had finished all his grading.

Remus conversed with her a bit distractedly as he watched over the Gryffindor table, spotting Harry, Ron and Hermione. They were visibly pre-occupied and were huddled away from the other students, discussing seriously.

“Have you heard from Hagrid? Poor thing, his Hippogriff’s been sentenced to death today. It’s going to happen tonight, any minute now actually I think.”

Remus turned to face her. “Really? That’s horrible…”

Professor Sprout pursed her lips in agreement before taking another bite of chicken.

Remus looked over at the trio again. They were standing up hastily, walking out of the Hall with quick little steps. He frowned. What were they up to?

He took the time to finish his dinner calmly and bid the fellow staff goodbye. Making his way back into his office, he pulled out his things quietly as the bedroom door was still shut; Y/N was probably still asleep.

He took a seat at his desk and pulled out what looked like an old used piece of parchment.

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

The map opened and unfolded as traces of ink bled upon its pages, forming its intricate content. He scanned it quickly, before turning his attention to Hagrid’s Hut. Hagrid’s dot was there, along with Dumbledore’s and other names he assumed were Ministry officials.

Running along the path to his Hut, he stopped at the two dots moving right under the Whomping Willow. It was Harry and Hermione. Where was Ron? What were they doing by that tree?

A thought popped in his head and his stomach sank. He moved up the map, praying to God that his far-fetched conjecture wouldn’t be true. Landing on Hogsmeade Village, he looked for the Shrieking Shack. The weight in his stomach sank even further. Ron’s dot was there, accompanied by none other than… Sirius Black.

His hands shook. He had to go help him. But as he watched the dots move, a third one came into view.

It was labelled “Peter Pettigrew”.

At that second, the blood had left Remus’ face. His hands grew cold. He shook the paper. He rapped his wand at it. He blinked and blinked again. The dot was still there, labelled with that name as clear as day.

In that very moment, a 13 year-old puzzle just came together with this one final piece. The web wove itself to completion. He understood… Stuffing his wand in his pocket, he jumped out of his chair and sped out the door.

In the Shrieking Shack, blood pressures were high.

Ron lay in the corner, with his weight off his broken leg, clutching his rat Scabbers. Hermione stood in the corner, quiet and pale.

Harry was fuming, frozen with his wand lifted and pointed to a ghastly, ghost-like Sirius Black.

"Going to kill me, Harry?" he whispered.

Harry stopped right above him, his wand still pointing at Black's chest, looking down at him. A livid bruise was rising around Black's left eye and his nose was bleeding.

"You killed my parents," said Harry, his voice shaking slightly, but his wand hand quite steady.

Black stared up at him out of those sunken eyes.

"I don't deny it," he said very quietly. "But if you knew the whole story."

"The whole story?" Harry repeated, a furious pounding in his ears. "You sold them to Voldemort. That's all I need to know."

"You've got to listen to me," Black said, and there was a note of urgency in his voice now. "You'll regret it if you don't.... You don't understand...."

"I understand a lot better than you think," said Harry, and his voice shook more than ever. "You never heard her, did you? My mum... trying to stop Voldemort killing me... and you did that... you did it...."

Crookshanks jumped in between the two and sat itself at Black’s feet, looking back at Harry with deep yellow eyes.

The seconds lengthened. And still Harry stood frozen there, wand poised, Black staring up at him, Crookshanks on his chest. Ron's ragged breathing came from near the bed; Hermione was quite silent.

And then came a new sound -

Muffled footsteps were echoing up through the floor — someone was moving downstairs.

"WE'RE UP HERE!" Hermione screamed suddenly. "WE'RE UP HERE -- SIRIUS BLACK - QUICK!"

Professor Lupin came hurtling into the room, his face bloodless, his wand raised and ready. His eyes flickered over Ron, lying on the floor, over Hermione, cowering next to the door, to Harry, standing there with his wand covering Black, and then to Black himself, crumpled and bleeding at Harry's feet.

"Expelliarmus!" Lupin shouted.

Harry's wand flew once more out of his hand; so did the two Hermione was holding. Lupin caught them all deftly, then moved into the room, staring at Black, who still had Crookshanks lying protectively across his chest.

Y/N woke up to a dark room. She groaned and rubbed her eyes. Her entire face felt scorching hot and her mouth was dry like she hadn’t drank in days. She rolled over in the bed. She had crawled under her blankets in the evening before dinner for a quick nap, but judging by the chill and dark air outside, she must have slept into early night.

She felt a tightness in her pelvic area, like cramps. She placed a hand on her abdomen.

Pulling herself out of bed lazily, she head to the bathroom. Her period was supposed to start a few days ago, so this must’ve been it. However, as she sat down on the toilet, there was nothing.

Suddenly, a realization jolted her mind awake.

She ran back to the bedroom, rummaging through her drawer for a pregnancy test. She went back to the bathroom and waited for the result.

Positive.

She put down the test swiftly, looking away as she felt her heartbeat quicken. She couldn’t believe her eyes. Slowly, she picked up the stick and read the result once more.

Holy shit.

She looked around her and it occurred to her that Remus was nowhere to be found. She checked the clock. It was well past 10pm.

Where the hell was he?

"Where is he, Sirius?"

Remus spoke in a tense voice, cutting through the weighted silence that took over the Shrieking Shack.

Black's face was quite expressionless. For a few seconds, he didn't move at all. Then, very slowly, he raised his empty hand and pointed straight at Ron.

Mystified, Harry glanced around at Ron, who looked bewildered.

"But then..." Lupin muttered, staring at Black so intently it seemed he was trying to read his mind, "... why hasn't he shown himself before now? Unless" -- Lupin's eyes suddenly widened, as though he was seeing something beyond Black, something none of the rest could see, "-- unless he was the one... unless you switched... without telling me?"

Very slowly, his sunken gaze never leaving Lupin's face, Black nodded.

"Professor," Harry interrupted loudly, "what's going on --?"

But Harry wasn’t able to finish his sentence, as what followed knocked the wind from his throat.

Remus lowered his wand. He walked to Sirius’ side, seized his hand confidently and pulled him to his feet. He gazed deeply into his eyes for a second, before the two men pulled each other into a deep embrace.

“I don’t believe it—“ Remus gasped, voice muffled.

“God, it’s been so long,” Sirius muttered back, “my friend.”

"DON'T BELIEVE IT!" Hermione screamed.

Lupin let go of Black and turned to her. She had raised herself off the floor and was pointing at Lupin, wild-eyed. "You -- you --"

"Hermione —"

“— you and him!"

"Hermione, calm down —"

"I didn't tell anyone!" Hermione shrieked. "I've been covering up for you —"

"Hermione, listen to me, please'" Lupin shouted. "I can explain —"

Harry could feel himself shaking, not with fear, but with a fresh wave of fury.

"I trusted you," he shouted at Lupin, his voice wavering, out of control, "and all the time you've been his friend!"

"You're wrong," said Lupin. "I haven't been Sirius's friend, but I am now — Let me explain...."

"NO!" Hermione screamed. "Harry, don't trust him, he's been helping Black get into the castle, he wants you dead too -- he's a werewolf!"

There was a ringing silence. Everyone's eyes were now on Lupin, who looked remarkably calm, though rather pale.

Where the hell was he?

Y/N’s head was spinning as too much was happening at the same time. She glanced around hurriedly for signs of Remus, then remembered she was clutching the positive pregnancy test and looked back at the positive result, then saw the Marauder’s Map was splayed across the desk, still open.

She closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. She stuffed the test in her pocket then headed towards his desk. She’d be able to find where Remus was on the map, then would go back to sleep.

It took a while for her eyes to scan the entire Castle for his name, to no avail. Where the hell was he? Surely he was not outside… It then dawned on her that tonight was the full moon.

Shit.

She looked over to the Shrieking Shack and nothing could have prepared her to see what she saw. Not one, but six dots. One was Remus, but he was accompanied by Harry, Ron and Hermione, as well as…

Y/N felt her heart freeze. Sirius Black? And… Peter… Pettigrew?

None of this felt possible. It couldn’t be. Grabbing her wand, she rushed out the office.

With this new information, the full moon had completely been replaced in her mind. Unfortunately, the only one who did seem to still remember was a certain Potions professor, on his way up to their office right now, where the map laid wide open.

"Not at all up to your usual standard, Hermione," Remus said. "Only one out of three, I'm afraid. I have not been helping Sirius get into the castle and I certainly don't want Harry dead.” An odd shiver passed over his face. "But I won't deny that I am a werewolf."

Ron made a valiant effort to get up again but fell back with a whimper of pain. Lupin made toward him, looking concerned, but Ron gasped, "Get away from me, werewolf!"

Lupin stopped dead. Then, with an obvious effort, he turned to Hermione and said, "How long have you known?"

"Ages," Hermione whispered. "Since I did Professor Snape's essay..."

"He'll be delighted," said Lupin coolly. "He assigned that essay hoping someone would realize what my symptoms meant.... Did you check the lunar chart and realize that I was always ill at the full moon? Or did you realize that the boggart changed into the moon when it saw me?"

"Both," Hermione said quietly.

Lupin forced a laugh.

"You're the cleverest witch of your age I've ever met, Hermione."

"I'm not," Hermione whispered. "If I'd been a bit cleverer, I'd have told everyone what you are!"

"But they already know," said Lupin. "At least, the staff do."

“The staff? Does Professor Y/L/N know?” Ron gasped.

Sirius let out a howl of genuine laughter. “Professor Y/L/N!” He cackled.

Remus scratched the back of his head, suddenly slightly bashful. “Professor Y/L/N and I… have been married for over 10 years.”

Harry, Ron and Hermione’s jaws dropped.

Silence fell over the room once again, as Remus stood there not knowing what to say next and Sirius standing by his side with his arms crossed, a slight smirk on his face.

“Well, we knew that!” Hermione exclaimed, finally. “That was more obvious than the werewolf thing! The whole school talks about it—“

She was interrupted as a new set of footsteps echoed from the staircase. The kids froze as Remus and Sirius turned to face the door, wands at the ready.

In burst Y/N, as if right on cue in a play. She was flushed and was panting, it appeared she had ran the whole way there.

“Remus!” She cried out upon seeing him. “YOU HAVE A LOT OF EXPLAINING TO DO—“ She took a step forward until she spotted his company, and slowly took the step back. “What…” She murmured shakily, “is happening here?”

“Professor Y/L/N.” Hermione gasped softly.

Her eyes hovered over Harry, Ron and Hermione, who were in shock to see their Charms Professor, before landing upon Sirius. Something unrecognizable flashed across her gaze. She couldn’t believe what, or whom, she was seeing. She had thought the map made a mistake.

Y/N didn’t hear her. “Siri…?” she whispered, fixated on the man in front of her.

That’s when Harry lost it.

“‘SIRI?’ I TRUSTED YOU TOO! SO THIS WHOLE TIME -BOTH- OF YOU HAVE BEEN HELPING HIM?”

Y/N jumped from the sudden outburst and Remus came by her side to put a soothing hand on her shoulder. “Remus, you better explain and you better explain quick.” She said tensely.

“We have not been helping Sirius," said Lupin. "If you'll give me a chance, I'll explain. Look —"

He separated Harry's, Ron's and Hermione's wands and threw each back to its owner; Harry caught his, stunned.

“There”, said Lupin, sticking his own wand back into his belt. "You're armed, we're not. Now will you listen?"

"If you haven't been helping him," Harry said, with a furious glance at Black, "how did you know he was here?"

"The map," said Lupin. "The Marauder's Map. I was in my office examining it —“

"You know how to work it?" Harry said suspiciously.

"Of course I know how to work it," said Lupin, waving his hand impatiently. "I helped write it. I'm Moony — that was my friends' nickname for me at school."

"You wrote —?"

Y/N caught Harry’s eye and gave him a confirming nod.

"The important thing is, I was watching it carefully this evening, because I had an idea that you, Ron, and Hermione might try and sneak out of the castle to visit Hagrid before his hippogriff was executed. And I was right, wasn't I?”

He had started to pace up and down, looking at them. Little patches of dust rose at his feet.

"You might have been wearing your father's old cloak, Harry--"

"How d'you know about the cloak?"

"The number of times I saw James disappearing under it...," said Lupin, waving an impatient hand again. "The point is, even if you're wearing an Invisibility Cloak, you still show up on the Marauder's Map. I watched you cross the grounds and enter Hagrid's hut. Twenty minutes later, you left Hagrid, and set off back toward the castle. But you were now accompanied by somebody else."

"What?" said Harry. "No, we weren't!"

I couldn't believe my eyes," said Lupin, still pacing, and ignoring Harry's interruption. "I thought the map must be malfunctioning. How could he be with you?"

"No one was with us!" said Harry.

"And then I saw another dot, moving fast toward you, labeled Sirius Black.... I saw him collide with you; I watched as he pulled two of you into the Whomping Willow —"

"One of us!" Ron said angrily.

"No, Ron," said Lupin. "Two of you.”

He had stopped his pacing, his eyes moving over Ron.

"Do you think I could have a look at the rat?" he said evenly.

"What?" said Ron. "What's Scabbers got to do with it?"

"Everything," said Lupin. "Could I see him, please?"

Ron hesitated, then put a hand inside his robes. Scabbers emerged, thrashing desperately; Ron had to seize his long bald tail to stop him escaping. Crookshanks stood up on Black's leg and made a soft hissing noise.

Lupin moved closer to Ron. He seemed to be holding his breath as he gazed intently at Scabbers.

"What?" Ron said again, holding Scabbers close to him, looking scared.

"What's my rat got to do with anything?"

"That's not a rat," croaked Sirius Black suddenly.

"What d'you mean — of course he's a rat —"

"No, he's not," said Lupin quietly. "He's a wizard.”

"An Animagus," said Black, "by the name of Peter Pettigrew."

"You're both mental.”

"Ridiculous!" said Hermione faintly.

"Peter Pettigrew's dead!" said Harry. "He killed him twelve years ago!" He pointed at Black, whose face twitched convulsively.

"I meant to," he growled, his yellow teeth bared, "but little Peter got the better of me... not this time, though!"

And Crookshanks was thrown to the floor as Black lunged at Scabbers; Ron yelled with pain as Black's weight fell on his broken leg.

"Sirius, NO!" Lupin yelled, launching himself forwards and dragging Black away from Ron again, "WAIT! You can't do it just like that -- they need to understand -- we've got to explain --"

"We can explain afterwards!" snarled Black, trying to throw Lupin off.

Y/N joined and stepped in front of Sirius. “Sirius, please!” She put both hands on his shoulders, causing him to flinch. Her voice was shaking. “They deserve to know the full picture.”

Black stopped struggling, though his hollowed eyes were still fixed on Scabbers, who was clamped tightly under Ron's bitten, scratched, ad bleeding hands. “Fine. But make it quick. I want to commit the murder I was imprisoned for.”

"You're nutters, all three of you," said Ron shakily, looking round at Harry and Hermione for support. "I've had enough of this. I'm off."

“Ron.” Y/N said sternly. “Sit down. I’m not joking, you’re going to listen.”

Hermione spoke, in a trembling, would-be calm sort of voice, as though trying to will Professor Lupin to talk sensibly.

"But Professor Lupin... Scabbers can't be Pettigrew... it just can't be true, you know it can't..."

"Why can't it be true?" Lupin said calmly, as though they were in class, and Hermione had simply spotted a problem in an experiment with grindylows.

"Because... because people would know if Peter Pettigrew had been an Animagus. We did Animagi in class with Professor McGonagall. And I looked them up when I did my homework -- the Ministry of Magic keeps tabs on witches and wizards who can become animals; there's a register showing what animal they become, and their markings and things... and I went and looked Professor McGonagall up on the register, and there have been only seven Animagi this century, and Pettigrew's name wasn't on the list."

Lupin and Y/N laughed.

"Light again, Hermione!" he said. "But the Ministry never knew that here used to be three unregistered Animagi running around Hogwarts."

Y/N cleared her throat.

“Sorry, four Animagi. Although we didn’t really know back then about you, my love.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Still, wanted to make sure you got the number right.”

Hermione’s eyes grew wider if it was even possible. “Professor Y/L/N, you’re an Animagus too?!”

Y/N nodded and gestured to Remus to proceed.

"All right... but you'll need to help me, Sirius," said Lupin, I only know how it began..."

Lupin broke off. There had been a loud creak behind him. The bedroom door had opened of its own accord. All five of them stared at it. Then Lupin strode toward it and looked out into the landing.

"No one there…"

"This place is haunted!" said Ron.

"It's not," said Lupin, still looking at the door in a puzzled way. "The Shrieking Shack was never haunted.... The screams and howls the villagers used to hear were made by me."

He pushed his graying hair out of his eyes, thought for a moment then said, "That's where all of this starts -- with my becoming a werewolf, None of this could have happened if I hadn't been bitter... and if I hadn't been so foolhardy..."

He looked sober and tired. Ron started to interrupt, but Hermione, said, "Shh!" She was watching Lupin very intently.

"I as a very small boy when I received the bite. My parents tried everything, but in those days there was no cure. The potion that Professor Snape has been making for me is a very recent discovery. It makes me safe, you see. As long as I take it in the week, preceding the full moon, I keep my mind when I transform.... I'm able to curl up in my office, a harmless wolf, and wait for the moon to wane again. Before the Wolfsbane Potion was discovered, however, I became a fully fledged monster once a month. It seemed impossible that I would be able to come to Hogwarts. Other parents weren't likely to want their children exposed to me. “

Hermione noticed a hint of sadness as she watched Y/N listen to her husband’s story.

"But then Dumbledore became Headmaster, and he was sympathetic. He said that as long as we took certain precautions, there was no reason I shouldn't come to school...." Lupin sighed, and looked directly at Harry. "I told you, months ago, that the Whomping Willow was planted the year I came to Hogwarts. The truth is that it was planted because I came

to Hogwarts. This house" -- Lupin looked miserably around the room, -- "the tunnel that leads to it -- they were built for my use. Once a month, I was smuggled out of the castle, into this place, to transform. The tree was placed at the tunnel mouth to stop anyone coming across me while I was dangerous."

"My transformations in those days were -- were terrible. It is very painful to turn into a werewolf. I was separated from humans to bite, so I bit and scratched myself instead. The villagers heard the noise and the screaming and thought they were hearing particularly violent spirits. Dumbledore encouraged the rumor.... Even now, when the house has been silent for years, the villagers don't dare approach it...."

"But apart from my transformations, I was happier than I had ever been in my life. For the first time ever, I had friends, three great friends. Sirius Black... Peter Pettigrew... and, of course, your father, Harry -- James Potter."

Y/N sniffed.

"Now, my three friends could hardly fail to notice that I disappeared once a month. I made up all sorts of stories. I told them my mother was ill, and that I had to go home to see her... I was terrified they would desert me the moment they found out what I was. But of course, they, like you, Hermione, worked out the truth...."

"And they didn't desert me at all. Instead, they did something for me that would make my transformations not only bearable, but the best times

of my life. They became Animagi."

"My dad too?" said Harry, astounded.

"Yes, indeed," said Lupin. "It took them the best part of three years to work out how to do it. Your father and Sirius here were the cleverest students in the school, and lucky they were, because the Animagus transformation can go horribly wrong -- one reason the Ministry keeps a close watch on those attempting to do it. Peter needed all the help he could get from James and Sirius. Finally, in our fifth year, they managed it. They could each turn into a different animal at will."

"But how did that help you?" said Hermione, sounding puzzled.

"They couldn't keep me company as humans, so they kept me company as animals," said Lupin. "A werewolf is only a danger to people. They sneaked out of the castle every month under James's Invisibility Cloak. They transformed... Peter, as the smallest, could slip beneath the

Willow's attacking branches and touch the knot that freezes it. They would then slip down the tunnel and join me. Under their influence, I became less dangerous. My body was still wolfish, but my mind seemed to become less so while I was with them."

"Hurry up, Remus," snarled Black, who was still watching Scabbers with a horrible sort of hunger on his face.

Y/N bit her lip as she dared to watch her old friend. She wanted to go touch him, comfort him, after so long… but she remained frozen on the spot as Remus continued.

"I'm getting there, Sirius, I'm getting there... well, highly exciting possibilities were open to us now that we could all transform. Soon we were leaving the Shrieking Shack and roaming the school grounds and the village by night. Sirius and James transformed into such large animals, they were able to keep a werewolf in check. I doubt whether any Hogwarts students ever found out more about the Hogwarts grounds and Hogsmeade than we did.... And that's how we came to write the Marauder's Map, and sign it with our nicknames. Sirius is Padfoot. Peter is Wormtail. James was Prongs."

"What sort of animal --?" Harry began, but Hermione cut him off.

"That was still really dangerous! Running around in the dark with a werewolf! What if you'd given the others the slip, and bitten somebody?"

"A thought that still haunts me," said Lupin heavily. "And there were near misses, many of them. We laughed about them afterwards. We were young, thoughtless -- carried away with our own cleverness."

I sometimes felt guilty about betraying Dumbledore's trust, of course... he had admitted me to Hogwarts when no other headmaster would have done so, and he had no idea I was breaking the rules he had set down for my own and others' safety. He never knew I had led three fellow students into becoming Animagi illegally. But I always managed to forget my guilty feelings every time we sat down to plan our next month's adventure. And I haven't changed..."

Lupin's face had hardened, and there was self-disgust in his voice. "All this year, I have been battling with myself, wondering whether I should tell Dumbledore that Sirius was an Animagus. But I didn't do it. Why? Because I was too cowardly. It would have meant admitting that I'd betrayed his trust while I was at school, admitting that I'd led others along with me... and Dumbledore's trust has meant everything to me. He let me into Hogwarts as a boy, and he gave me a job when I have been shunned all my adult life, unable to find paid work because of what I am. And so I convinced myself that Sirius was getting into the school using dark arts he learned from Voldemort, that being an Animagus had nothing to do with it... so, in a way, Snape's been right about me all along."

“Don’t put it all on yourself,” Y/N said grimly. “The blame’s to share. We both decided to not go to Dumbledore.”

"Snape?" said Black harshly, taking his eyes off Scabbers; for the first time in minutes and looking up at Lupin. "What's Snape got to do with it?"

"He's here, Sirius," said Lupin heavily. "He's teaching here as well." He looked up at Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"Professor Snape was at school with us. He fought very hard against my appointment to the Defense Against the Dark Arts job. He has been telling Dumbledore A year that I am not to be trusted. He has his reasons... you see, Sirius here played a trick on him which nearly

killed him, a trick which involved me —" Black made a derisive noise. Y/N shushed him.

“Oh, Y/N, don’t go defending him now—“ Sirius chuckled.

“I’m not! I’m just— Rem, continue the story.” She said, crossing her arms defensively.

The two exchanged looks between each other, a bit of playfulness coming from Sirius’ end whereas Y/N still looked conflicted about being in his presence.

"Severus was very interested in where I went every month." Lupin told Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "We were in the same year, you know, and we -- er -- didn't like each other very much. He especially disliked James. Jealous, I think, of James's talent on the Quidditch field... anyway Snape had seen me crossing the grounds with Madam Pomfrey one evening as she led me toward the Whomping Willow to transform. Sirius thought it would be -- er -- amusing, to tell Snape all he had to do was prod the knot on the tree trunk with a long stick, and he'd be able to get in after me. Well, of course, Snape tried it -- if he'd got as far as this house, he'd have met a fully grown werewolf -- but your father, who'd heard what Sirius had done, went after Snape and pulled him back, at great risk to his life... Snape glimpsed me, though, at the end of the tunnel. He was forbidden by Dumbledore to tell anybody, but from that time on he knew what I was...."

"So that's why Snape doesn't like you," said Harry slowly, "because he thought you were in on the joke?"

"That's right," sneered a cold voice from the wall behind Lupin.

Severus Snape was pulling off the Invisibility Cloak, his wand pointing, directly at Lupin.

Hermione screamed. Black leapt to his feet. Harry felt as though he'd received a huge electric shock.

Y/N gasped and clutched her stomach. Black slowly grabbed her shoulders and placed himself in front of her protectively.

"I found this at the base of the Whomping Willow," said Snape, throwing the cloak aside, careful to keep this wand pointing directly at Lupin's chest. "Very useful, Potter, I thank you...."

Snape was slightly breathless, but his face was full of suppressed triumph. "I've just been to your office, Lupin. You forgot to take your potion tonight, so I took a gobletful along. And very lucky I did... lucky for me, I mean. Lying on your desk was a certain map. One glance at it told me all I needed to know. I saw you running along this passageway and out of sight."

"Severus --" Lupin began, but Snape overrode him.

"I've told the headmaster again and again that you're helping your old friend Black into the castle, Lupin, and here's the proof. Not even I dreamed you would have the nerve to use this old place as your hideout — and you too Y/L/N. Here you are helping him out, a real criminal couple you two are…”

"Severus, you're making a mistake," said Lupin urgently. "You haven't heard everything -- I can explain -- Sirius is not here to kill Harry --"

"Three more for Azkaban tonight," said Snape, his eyes now gleaming fanatically. “Though I do feel bad for you, Y/L/N, you never should have gotten involved… in the first place…I shall be interested to see how Dumbledore takes this.... He was quite convinced you were harmless, you know, Lupin... a tame werewolf —"

“Don’t - you - fucking - dare—“ Y/N said through gritted teeth, wanting to lunge forward to strike Snape, but Sirius and Remus caught her arms, holding her back.

“How sweet.” Snape said sardonically.

"You fool," said Lupin softly. "Is a schoolboy grudge worth putting an innocent man back inside Azkaban?"

BANG! Thin, snakelike cords burst from the end of Snape's wand and twisted themselves around Lupin's mouth, wrists, and ankles; he overbalanced and fell to the floor, unable to move. Y/N screamed, throwing herself down to check on him. With a roar of rage, Black started toward Snape, but Snape pointed his wand straight between Black's eyes.

"Give me a reason," he whispered. "Give me a reason to do it, and I swear I will."

Black stopped dead. It would have been impossible to say which face showed more hatred.

Harry stood there, paralyzed, not knowing what to do or whom to believe. He glanced around at Ron and Hermione. Ron looked just as confused as he did, still fighting to keep hold on the struggling Scabbers. Hermione, however, took an uncertain step toward Snape and said, in a very breathless voice, "Professor Snape -- it it wouldn't hurt to hear what they've got to say, w -- would it?"

"Miss Granger, you are already facing suspension from this school," Snape spat. "You, Potter, and Weasley are out-of-bounds, in the company of a convicted murderer and a werewolf. For once in your life, hold your tongue."

Y/N whipped her head around, hearing the way Snape was beginning to speak to Hermione.

"But if -- if there was a mistake --"

"KEEP QUIET, YOU STUPID GIRL!" Snape shouted, looking suddenly quite deranged. "DON'T TALK ABOUT WHAT YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!" A few sparks shot out of the end of his wand, which was still pointed at Black's face. Hermione fell silent.

“ENOUGH!” Y/N jumped up, pulling her wand out and pointing it straight at Snape. “Hermione, get back.”

“Step aside, Y/L/N. You don’t know what you’re doing.” He grunted.

“I said, get back, all three of you.” Y/N snapped, Harry and Hermione hurrying and backing up to where Ron laid.

“Severus, I’m serious, you need to hear them out.” Y/N said. Her voice was steely. She moved out from behind Sirius and inched her way closer to Snape, softly but steadily like a cat.

Snape ignored her. Remus struggled against his binds, his eyes not leaving Y/N. But deep down, he knew he didn’t have to worry. He had seen her fight during the first Wizarding War, and he knew how much more powerful of a witch she had grown into. Snape unfortunately, did not, as he returned his attention to Sirius.

"Vengeance is very sweet," Snape breathed at Black. "How I hoped I would be the one to catch you...."

"The joke's on you again, Severus," Black snarled. "As long as this boy brings his rat up to the castle" -- he jerked his head at Ron -- "I'll come quietly...."

"Up to the castle?" said Snape silkily. "I don't think we need to go that far. All I have to do is call the dementors once we get out of the Willow. They'll be very pleased to see you, Black... pleased enough to give you a little kiss, I daresay... I --"

What little color there was in Blacks face left it.

"You -you've got to hear me out," he croaked. "The rat -- look at the rat --"

But there was a mad glint in Snape's eyes that had never been seen before. He seemed beyond reason.

"Come on, all of you," he said. He clicked his fingers, and the ends of the cords that bound Lupin flew to his hands. "I'll drag the werewolf. Perhaps the dementors will have a kiss for him too —"

“Severus.” Y/N warned, wand still at the ready.

Before he knew what he was doing, Harry had crossed the room in three strides and blocked the door.

“Harry!” Y/N cried.

"Get out of the way, Potter, you're in enough trouble already," snarled Snape. "If I hadn't been here to save your skin --"

"Professor Lupin could have killed me about a hundred times this year," Harry said. "I've been alone with him loads of times, having defense lessons against the dementors. If he was helping Black, why didn't he just finish me off then?"

"Don't ask me to fathom the way a werewolf's mind works," hissed Snape.

"Get out of the way, Potter."

"YOURE PATHETIC!" Harry yelled. "JUST BECAUSE THEY MADE A FOOL OF YOU AT SCHOOL YOU WON'T EVEN LISTEN --"

"SILENCE! I WILL NOT BE SPOKEN TO LIKE THAT!" Snape shrieked, looking madder than ever. "Like father, like son, Potter! I have just saved your neck; you should be thanking me on bended knee! You would have been well served if he'd killed you! You'd have died like your father, too

arrogant to believe you might be mistaken in Black -- now get out of the way, or I will make you. GET OUT OF THE WAY, POTTER!"

“Okay, I said ENOUGH!” Y/N raised her voice.

With a wave of her wand, the floor tiles under Harry’s feet rolled upwards in a wave, and sent Harry tumbling back to the back of the room where Ron and Hermione were.

“Snape, I told you to listen,” She said, advancing on him with her wand. “I told you, I don’t want to have to do this. But you have clearly lost your mind.”

Snape turned to face her. His dark eyes darkened even more. “And I told you, to get out of my way.a What are you possibly saying, Professor Y/L/N, you really think I’m going to duel you?”

Y/N cocked her head to the side. “Why, you scared you gonna lose?” She said in a volume just above a whisper.

Snape jerked his wand and a spell flew at her, she whipped her own wand and deflected it. It bounced to the wall and knocked an old painting down.

With her empty hand, Y/N reached out to the trio and conjured a sort of bubble around Ron, Harry and Hermione. It was a protection spell.

Remus screamed in muffled yells as his mouth was gagged, and Sirius tried to free him but to no avail, there was no untying magical ties without a wand.

Y/N’s chest was heaving as she felt her heartbeat quicken.

A rapidfire of spells followed, bouncing between the two like fireworks. Y/N waved her wand, deflecting those Snape sent at her, conjuring out some of her own in the milliseconds in between.

Snakes shot out of Snape’s wand, flying toward Y/N. She waved her wand and they turned into pink satin ribbons, falling through the air. She flicked her wand one, two, three different motions and jets of orange, red and purple shot toward him. He deflected two of them and managed to physically dodge the third. Snape rose his hands and a ring of fire encircled Y/N.

Remus let out another muffled yell, struggling terribly against his restraints.

“Don’t-“ Y/N muttered through gritted teeth as she began to make effortful circles with both her wand and her non-dominant hand. The others watched in terror. “Piss - me - OFF—“

The molecules of water vapor surrounding her had liquefied and splashed down onto the floor to put out the flames. “The shack’s made out of fucking wood, Snape, you want us all to DIE?”

She raised her wand high above her head, the water getting picked off the floor and she pushed the wave into him. It slammed his body into the wall behind him and with another wave of her wand, the water froze; trapping him there, suspended.

Remus watched from the ground in awe. He had forgotten how powerful Y/N had become and it was magnificent to witness.

Snape’s head had knocked back and it drooped down, hanging from his neck. He had been knocked unconscious.

Sirius found Remus’ wand and untied him.

Y/N took a deep breath and lowered her wand. She waved her hand, and the protective barrier in front of the trio disappeared. Remus jumped to his feet and rushed to her, capturing her in a soulful hug.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He said, taking her face in his two hands, searching and scanning for signs of distress.

“I’m good, I swear.” She said, steadying her breath.

After what seemed like forever, finally Remus let her go. They immediately turned back around to heightened squeaking noises, coming from a very distressed Scabbers, still stuck in Ron’s tight clutch.

“Professor Y/L/N…” Hermione began.

“That was amazing.” Ron breathed.

“How you used the Freezing charm to- to- Oh God, Professor Snape.” Hermione gasped once she saw what state he was in.

“This still doesn’t mean I believe you.” Harry said firmly.

Y/N, Remus and Sirius exchanged a look.

“Then it’s time we gave you proof.” Remus said, advancing.

“Ron, give us the rat.”

#charmed #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #prisoner of azkaban #professor lupin x reader

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writing-in-the-impala · 1 year ago

Text

Secret Smokes (Part 6)

Pairing: Teacher! Remus Lupin x Reader

Series Summary: When the reader bumps into the new DADA professor on the bridge in Hogwarts she begins to build a friendship with him all thanks to their shared feeling of not belonging and love for muggle cigarettes. Their friendship blooms while they both fight internal battles deciding what is wrong and what is right leading to a lot of fluff, angst, flirting and a rollercoaster of emotions.

Warnings: Swearing, Drinking, teacher-student relationship (but like it’s all legal chill), SLOWburn we’re in for a long ride

Word Count: 3k

A/N: Hello I’m posting from my phone as I’m currently travelling so the formatting may be messed up. Sorry! It literally took me forever to do this formatting on my phone so this is the best you’re getting. I wanted to update this week not to leave you all hanging for a while again so deal with it. Love you tho!

| SERIES MASTER LIST (All chapters) |

Previous Chapter, Part 6, Next Chapter

The weekend came around quickly as it usually did when you had so much work, you didn't speak with Lupin about his Lycanthropy or about your friendship again since that day instead you actually ended up opting out of the evening meetings to spend time with your age appropriate friends and to attend the duelling club run by Sebastian. Maybe it was out of self preservation that you avoided Lupin as your feelings towards Lupin became more clouded with each day, it definitely wasn't a school girl crush on the new profesor it was deeper than that, the thought of his hand on your lap or him calling you dear made you want to blush.

You were with a small group of friends that the twins organised, and at one moment someone suggested drinking games and all of you quickly became a lot more drunk. About half way through your night you saw a few teachers come in, Lupin included, you smiled at him as others greeted him and the other teachers as the walked in and sat on the opposite side of the pub. Lupin would look over to your table every so often but you barely ever noticed as you weren't the sharpest on instinct when you got drunk. He noticed when you looked at him, a few of the other girls at your table were also looking at him but he was only looking back at you, you didn't know but all he could think about was how you started to ignore him after he took you to the lake, he believed he messed up with that conversation. You pretend to be okay with it because you're a good person but like everyone you're scared and you are allowed to be, but it hurt him to have you avoid him. "Look Professor Lupin is looking right at us." One of the pretty Ravenclaw girls whispered to the rest of the girls who were in the area. "Do you think he gets off on the attention from students? He wants us to look at him?" Another Slytherin girl replied. "I don't know but I hope so, I'd like to help him get off." The first girl replied. "I'm going for a cigarette, Fred, George , care to join?" You stood up and the twins followed, you made eye contact with Lupin and quickly flashed him your pack of cigarettes and motioned your head towards the door not thinking about who he was, in your mind you were just inviting a friend out for a smoke.

You needed to escape the conversation inside, it made you uncomfortable how many girls wanted Lupin and it did seem like he was looking over and enjoying the attention. Lupin walked out and lit a cigarette of his own standing not too far away from you and the twins, just the sight of him and the alcoholic mixed made you feel like the temperature went up as soon as he was outside. "Profesor Lupin care to join us?" Fred said winking at you quickly.

"I don't want to interrupt." He replied gently.

"Interrupt?" Fred asked. "It's not interrupting if you've been invited." George added. Lupin walked over closer to you guys and joined in a mundane discussion about how schools should allow a certain level of pranks as a sign of magic practice. After about five minutes Fred and George quickly made a excuse to go back inside leaving you alone with Lupin, the alcohol still pulsing through your skin, it fell silent as you both just looked at each other. "Hey." You said "Hey." He replied softly taking a step closer. "You know I've never seen you drunk." He said softly. "You smell of fire whiskey." You replied to suggest he is also drunk. "Not as much as you dear." He replied that one word shooting through your body making your heart beat a bit faster you didn't know how to reply. "Y/N, have I offended or upset you?"

"No I have drank quite a bit I do understand that I smell like-"

"No, I meant the other day at the lake."

"What? How was that meant to upset me. That was one of the most beautiful things I've seen moon boy." You said immediately regretting the last word.

"I was worried my condition did in fact scare you."

"No I already knew,"

"You just seemed to avoid me after..."

"I don't care about your condition, I had plans I should have probably warned you, I wasn't avoiding you."

"I'm glad to hear that, I was worried... now let's go back to moon boy?"

"I know I regret it already I think moony would've been better, I was just trying to say something to make it seem like I don't care about you being you but now I realised it sounded horrible and you're my teacher so maybe calling you that is inappropriate." He laughed in reply.

"You really do smell of fire whiskey profesor." You said your internal monologue out loud.

"How about now." He took another step closer to you.

"I'm not sure maybe another half a step." You said even though the space between you was minimal. "Accio." He gently whispered and you were magically pulled towards him nearly crashing into his chest. "How about now?" You felt his breathe with every word he was so close to you. In this moment you forgot that he was your profesor your body was on fire you were turned on and aching to kiss him. He laughed when you didn't reply just looked at him in the eyes and he took a step back. "Cat got your tongue?" He asked leaning back on the wall behind him creating space as you stood frozen in the same place.

"I'm just drunk, can't think straight." You said sitting down on the floor.

"Do I need to get you back to your friends?" He asked kneeling down besides you and lightly stroking your head.

"No I'm enjoying myself right here." You replied and he stood up leaving you, confusion hit, did you upset him? He was the one flirting with you. He came back moments later with a glass of water. "Here you go." He handed you the water and you looked curiously at him. "Drink." He insisted. "Thank you profesor."

"How much did you drink dear?" He was standing above you, hands in his pockets while you looked up to him.

"Enough that I'm scared I'll say the wrong thing and reveal too much."

"About my condition to others?" he sat down besides you seeming more serious now.

"No... I can't say you're my teacher." You look down at your feet avoiding his eyes. "Tell me dear." He pressed.

"Don't use that word."

"What word?"

"You know what word."

"Why dear?"

"Because it feels like I'm on fire when you use it." You said instantly regretting it.

"Can I tell you a secret?” He leaned on closer to your ear and whispered “I know."He licked his lips as he watched you look back at him with a shocked expression. "It's time you go back to your friends." He continued as he stood up.

"But I want to stay and talk with you."

"I believe we've both already said too much." He held his hand out to you and helped you stand up. You didn't say anything else but rather allowed him to open the door for you and you walked in as he followed, you walked over to the table with your friends and he went over to his table no more words spoken. "So how was your flirting session with Lupin?" Fred whispered in your ear. "Shut it Weasley." You stated while looking up at Lupin who was too busy laughing along to someone's joke to notice you. "What did I miss?" You asked George. "Nothing it's getting a bit boring here I think we should go find some fun out of here" he replied. "I agree I am sick of listening to who has a crush on who at this table." Fred said grabbing his jacket and standing up. "A lot have been taking about their crushes on you," Fed said while leaning out a hand to help you stand up and then looping it with yours while waking out the pub. "Our dear old Percy has competition, apparently that Swallow Slytherin guy is talking about you." George filled you in on the gossip. "Yet we all know none of them have a chance don't we Y/N." He said with a wink and you nodded. "Your profesor watched us walk out, his eyes were glued to you." George added.

"Oh not you too." You said laughing I'm disbelief.

"Y/N don't deny it." Fred said.

"Where did this rumour come from between you two?" You asked as the three of you walked back towards the castle.

"Well you may not know dear old Lupin is a friend of our mums," Fred began. "Friend of Harry's parents and through that our mums so we know him a bit." George added.

"Now we know you quite well and this year is the first year you're gone every evening and you're actually going to lessons..." Fred explained.

"That doesn't mean I like Lupin." You protested.

"But blushing when you hear his name or staring at him whenever he's in the same area as you-" Fred continued.

"Okay maybe I have a school girl crush on him but what girl doesn't." You said and the guys looked at you as if to say that they know it's not a school girl crush. "let's keep this between us. And not telling poor Percy he'll be heartbroken." You warned them and they promised to keep your secret.

On Monday you received an OWL from Lupin cancelling your tutoring sessions for this week as he had "prior commitments". You looked over to him after receiving the OWL but he was busy in his own conversation and didn't even glance towards you. You usually saw him in the corridors during the day and would share a smile but today it seemed like he disappeared completely.

During his DADA lesson he made the class write a essay "once you are done please leave your parchment on my desk and you're free to leave." He said before sitting down and beginning to mark some other years work. You spent the lesson looking over towards him but he was starting down he almost looked uncomfortable. You couldn't concentrate on the work so you just sat there looking at him, how he was writing, how he breathed, how he moved and then he looked up making eye contact with you. Your body froze you felt like you had just been caught he looked straight back down before you could look away. His eyes had no feeling behind them it felt like a completely different person to the guy who used magic to bring you closer to him or said the word "dear" gently to light your body on fire. After you finished your work you took your paper to his desk he didn't even look up when you put it down but you knew he knew it was you. "Profesor may I have a word?" You asked him in a whisper.

"Miss L/N other students are still finishing their work is this urgent." He sounded and looked annoyed.

"No profesor I just wanted to know why you've cancelled my tutoring for this week." You felt like you've messed up, he no longer wanted anything to do with you.

"As I've already mentioned I have prior commitments." He replied not even looking up from his papers this time. You didn't press you just left the room and that was it. From that point onwards he no longer came to the bridge and you no longer went there either you checked the map every evening in case he decides to go but no, the next week the same repeated the cancelled your lessons and stayed far away from the bridge. If you knew this would happen you wouldn't have spoken to him at all at the three broomsticks. The way he looked at you or should I say didn't look at you during DADA was becoming too painful so you started skipping his lessons. You would see him in the great hall and he would never look back at you. It was horrible it made those two weeks feel like the longest two weeks at Hogwarts if your life.

You began occupying a lot of your time with the duelling club, Sebastian was quite friendly for a Slytherin and he taught you a lot. You were becoming quite fond of him and you could tell he had a crush on you. You began thinking more often that maybe Sebastian is the exact distraction you need to get over your school girl crush, you enjoyed the attention. He was missing the soul Lupin had, Lupin was the only person you could speak so deeply with. Sebastian was your age and not a profesor but you just didn't find him as attractive so your mind was still stuck on Lupin, this didn't prevent your friendship with Sebastian developing.

Sunday evening you had nothing to do so you were wandering around the lake while the sun was setting, you spent the time thinking about Lupin as you sat near the water reading a muggle book. As it got dark you went back into the castle and that's when you bumped into Sebastian. "Look who it is!" He announced while approaching you and going in for a hug to say hello. "Sebastian." You acknowledge him.

"What have you been up to sport?" He asks you as you continue to walk back to the dorm. "Killing time." You said lifting your book.

"You should've said we could've killed time together if you know what I mean." He said as you slowly walked passed the bridge you looked at it longingly .

"What do you mean?" You asked intriguingly.

"Well instead of reading that... what is it?"

"It's a muggle book." You're replied holding it up. "I forget you're into boring stuff like that. Well darling instead of some boring muggle book me and you could've spend a nice Sunday together. You know I could take you out to some nice places forget about Hogsmeade we could travel into the city." He boasted.

"Really?" You said a bit unamused he was nice but he sometimes was cocky and you hated that.

"I've got my ways darling." He said with a wink at the same time you heard someone clearing their throat behind you, both your heads snapped backwards to see Lupin.

"Are you both aware that you're out last curfew." Lupin stated and you check the time.

"Profesor we apologies but it is only by 3 minutes, we're heading back to our dorms." Sebastian insisted

"Mr Sallow, the Slytherin dorm is the opposite direction." Lupin pointed out. "You better start going that way or I will have to give you and Miss L/N detention as well as take away house points."

"Yes Professor, bye Y/N." He said hugging you good bye "Good night profesor." He said walking away and you replied with your own goodbye and good night ready to quickly run back to your dorm. "Not so quickly I need to speak to you." He stopped you and you nodded. He began walking back towards the bridge and you followed him. He stood in his usual spot lighting a cigarette and you just watched him, he handed you one but you refused it. "I don't like when he speaks like that to you." He stated while looking out from the bridge, you didn't reply since when could he decides how people speak to you, he didn't even speak to you. "Do you like it?" He asked looking at you this time and you looked back into his eyes seeing hurt in his eyes, which didn't make sense considering the hurt he was causing you over the last two weeks. "Why have you been ignoring me?" You asked.

"I've put distance between us because as your teacher I'm concerned you're becoming too close to me. I am responsible for you here and your parents put trust in us to keep you safe."

"Who are you keeping me safe from?" You snapped back it felt like you could cry at any moment hearing how much distance he's put between the two of you.

"Me." He replied sternly. "Now answer my question, do you like it?" He didn't break eye contact.

"No." You replied looking back into his eyes.

"Very well." He replied putting his cigarette out. "I expect to see you in your tutoring session on Monday and in my lessons. From now on no more skipping, do you understand?" You nodded in reply. "Now you should get back to your dorm it's past curfew. He said beginning to walk away, one hand in pocket not looking back at you. If he did look back he would see how confused you looked. You felt almost like you could cry from the overwhelming mix of feelings he had caused.

NEXT CHAPTER | More stuff I wrote

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