#ch; Neville Longbottom

[feathersontheclyde]

" I wanna be shocked but I'm not. I always saw the two of them together. Maybe not in that way you know but .. " he chuckles. " go you guys. "

[ihaveitprinteddout]

TOO CUTEEE 🥺

rubbish and the weather

A/N: my first hp universe fic 🥺 i hope somebody enjoys this because i LOVE neville and i LOVE friends to lovers tropes

Pairings: Neville Longbottom x Fem!Reader

Summary: Neville is hiding two things from you: the chest under his bed and his affections for you. 1.5k words

Warnings: fluff, face kisses, friendly teasing/bullying, SICKENING pining, neville being borderline creepy but in a sweet way, cursing, friends to… lovers?

"'Some have begun to question whether or not the Sorting Hat even exists'. Oh, be serious, there's no way anyone would believe this rubbish"—you toss the flimsy tabloid to the foot of the bed, nearly pelting Neville with the busily patterned cover—"Now, if they'd asked, does the Sorting Hat actually sort... well, then I'd have to think about it."

"If you think it's rubbish, then why are you subscribed?"

He doesn't even have to glance up from his almanac to know you're glaring holes through his skull. And you don't have to see the other side of his skull to know that he's borderline laughing at you.

"Oh, and I'm sure what you're reading is much more enlightening. What is this?"—You snatch the thin booklet from his lap, illuminating the soft yellow cover under your suddenly glowing wand—"Last year's Farmers' Almanac?"

"Give me that—I'm trying to follow weather patterns to understand what crops might attract juvenile basilisks to common gardens in order to decrease slug attacks on spring harvests. Are you even listening?" he whines, smacking your calf with the booklet as you reach for a worn quill and a shred of parchment.

"Mhm! Baby basilisks, slug attacks, harvests, got it!" you coo, scribbling across the paper flattened against the headboard of his bed.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing, plant boy! Go back to reading."

"Actually, I prefer plantsman, thank you very much."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, plant boy."

He turns his back to you again, sitting criss-cross on the edge of the bed, hunched over as he scans the pages for keywords and uncommon patterns.

You shift across the bed, draping one arm over Neville's shoulder and dropping the slip of paper into his lap. Your head rests on his other shoulder while he picks at the edges of the piece and ignores the fire in his face.

"For me?" he says, holding it in his palms like it could rip at any second. Like he'll blink and it'll turn to shreds in his fingers.

"It's your little basilisk"—you run your fingertip along the bottom corner where a tiny, overly worried snake sits looking up at a gigantic slug with sharp teeth that towers over him and his tomato plant—"I don't know how he's going to defend his crops this spring."

You blow a puff of air against the back of his neck, chuckling when he startles and slips the comic into the breast pocket of his pajamas.

"So you were listening after all," he teases, turning over his shoulder to find you splayed out across the bed, face buried in his pillows, arms outstretched like you're reaching for something. He wants to reach back. He wants this kind of view for the rest of his life, if only from afar.

You mumble something into the fluff and shriek when he grabs for your ankle.

"Can't hear all your whining through the bedding."

When you look at him, he thinks he could die. Your eyes sparkle in the dim and awfully warm lightning. If he's lucky, you'll brush off all of his feverish blushing as some sort of medical condition. But he's never been very lucky which is why he reaches for the back of his neck when you grin and roll over.

"I wasn't whining, I was saying—"

Light floods the room as the door flaps open to a few familiar faces that look like they've seen a ghost. You spring out of Neville's bed and gather your supplies. He feels a buzzing in his palms that begs him to beg you to stay. But it's against the rules. Even more so than your presence alone in the boys' dorms.

"I guess that's my cue to leave," you chirp, saluting to the quartet of boys shuffling through the doorway with wide eyes and shy smiles.

"Goodnight, Neville."

You kiss his cheek, patting his shoulder and flitting back through the door with one last wave. Neville sighs and tosses his almanac aside, swinging his legs off the side of the bed before he hears a chorus of high-pitched teasing:

"Goodnight, Neville! I love you, Neville!" Not to mention the kissing sounds and squeaky sighs from the group of Gryffindor imbeciles.

He would never admit it out loud, but even imagining you professing your love for him gives him butterflies. His heart races at the thought of your voice wrapped around the sweet words, your lips forming the dewy syllables just right. But he rolls his eyes and groans, settling across his mattress and forgetting the drawing in his pocket.

...

You'd been wandering around the boys' dormitories in your house sweater, humming the song that played in the pub down the road. Usually you invade Neville's space to study or catch up on tabloids, but tonight you're restless. His quill is flicking away at a sheet of classwork he forgot about until the last minute.

As you press your fingertips to each quilt stitch and dresser decoration, you notice a piece of metal gleaming at you from underneath his bed. A sharp corner protrudes from the edge; it belongs to a small brown leather chest buckled in brass and blooming with rust.

"What's this?" you coo, holding the chest across both of your palms, nudging his calf with your foot and grinning mischievously down at him. And he looks genuinely scared. Pale as a ghost and scrambling after you as you take off across the room with elated giggles and chirps.

"No—no! Give that back, it's personal!" he whines, panting as you bound over one of the beds and curl your arms around the box.

"What's yours is mine, Longbottom! Come on, whatever it is can't be that bad—"

He grabs the back of your sweater like the scruff of a puppy, dragging you backwards and knocking you off kilter. He nearly catches the chest with his hands, but you duck out of reach and jump onto his bed before he can get to you again.

"Tell me, what on Earth could Neville Longbottom be hiding—"

His heart stops when you flick open the latch and toss the lid wide. Then your smile falls.

You finger over the contents of the chest, scraps of parchment and ink fill it to its brim. They nearly spill over the edges when you plop down onto his mattress with the chest in your lap.

Your mouth opens and closes with revelation and awe. Each page is one of your spontaneously dorky animations. Spiky creatures and demon garden spawn and caricatures of Professor Snape litter the pile. They're all drawings you remember, each connects to a moment between the two of you.

Neville takes a deep breath and doesn't dare step closer, "It's not what it looks like—"

"You kept them?" you whisper, looking up at him in shock, "All of them?"

You're still flipping through the stack when he shrugs with a worrisome smile.

"...Yes."

You pause. You pause and take a sharp breath in because he's never sounded so sure in a word. You do a double take at one of the sketches. He sits on the edge of the bed, wringing his hands and glancing over at you anxiously.

"Neville"—and here it comes, he thinks, creepy, perverted, obsessive, and those sorts of things. And you wouldn't be wrong. But then he thinks he might be wrong. Because you set the box aside and spring toward him like a goddamn panther, landing him flat on the floor with a groan.

"That's adorable!

Your wet lips find his cheek and the rest of his face, hands wound into the collar of his sleep shirt as you leer down at him with a grin.

"I didn't think anyone paid attention to those stupid things."

"Well. I do," he huffs.

"I can see that, you sicko!" you shriek, "You better thank your lucky stars I'm so nice. Any other girl would've sent you right to Snape for being so perverted and creepy."

Called it.

"That's why I did it to you, not some other girl."

He doesn't know what to do with his hands, and you go shy thinking you might've crossed a line. Maybe you got too excited, flew too close to the sun, lips too close to his own. But the closeness had felt nice, and you want to make him blush like that forever.

"So you're saying it's not because I'm the prettiest girl at Hogwarts."

And you bat your lashes, pouting and leaving him weak in the knees. With your palms on his chest and you leaning closer, he's tempted to admit he's taken with you. To admit he's loved you since first year. To admit you are the prettiest girl at Hogwarts and in London and the rest of Europe. Forget the world, you're his.

"I never said that," Neville mumbles. It’s the closest he'll ever get to a real confession. At least this year.

masterlist

[meiusoo-twistedtwst]

NRC Faces the Sorting Hat…

Hear me out this is ranked by a serious Potterhead who has DELVED into the associations of each house so allow me to share my thoughts on which Hogwarts house the NRC guys would possibly be sorted into —>

TREY & Cater seem like master manipulators, especially if all those overthrowing Riddle to reclaim Cater’s title as dorm leader theories are true (haven’t read Cater’s ch. 7 arc I rlly need to😭)

Azul & Vil are literally so ambitious, like Azul tried to erase his own past to theoretically present himself as a whole new, blank-slate person with absolutely no embarrassments or flaws while Vil’s determination drove him to insanity as he cunningly used Neige’s trust to try to POISON him

I think Ruggie & Jamil are very self-explanatory as they’re both ambitious & cunning, scheming guys. I chose Slytherin over Hufflepuff for Ruggie as although he’s extremely hardworking & relatively patient (he cleans up after Leona, not a job for the impatient) but he’s not actually all that loyal I don’t think. He only bonded with & followed after Leona because it would benefit him though… (now as I’m writing this I’m starting to think he might actually be a Hufflepuff-)

Silver & Sebek both showed lots of Hufflepuff traits but ultimately the events of Ch.7 pushed me to place them in Gryffindor instead. Just imagine how difficult it would be to turn your sword against the guy you’ve known & loved your whole life? The guy you had once sworn absolute obedience & loyalty to? They’re prime reinforcers as to why Neville Longbottom was in Gryffindor (it takes bravery to stand up against your own friends)

Ace & Deuce: Same thing as above but to a less extreme extent. Arguably, if the Ace is a traitor theories are true then he’d be a strong runner up for Slytherin with how cunning he is. I was hesitant with Deuce since he might be a Hufflepuff, but his background as a delinquent & his willingness to rebel against authority (cough cough Riddle cough) when he could have just stayed completely loyal like Trey (who may have just been plotting Riddle’s fall from grace then) made me put him in Gryffindor

Floyd was between Slytherin & Gryffindor but I don’t think he’s actually all that cunning? Like he knows he’s intimidating & uses that to his advantage but otherwise he doesn’t actively use detailed plots the same way Jade or Azul do? Plus, he’s just not afraid of anything; very brave

Epel was brave for being rebellious & rejecting peer pressure for the most part- definitely hard to say no when your dorm leader is a literal celebrity & accomplished student. Jack is also very self explanatory with how he’s not afraid to stand apart from the crowd (seen in Ch. 2) & he was never so blindly loyal to Leona to the point where he’d ignore or not notice his flaws

+He wasn’t on the Tier maker but I’d put Grim in Gryffindor with how recklessly brave he is (literally so chaotic & constantly defies authority)

I know what you’re all thinking but hear me out… Crowley is a bad (or at least morally grey) Hufflepuff. He preaches love, graciousness, & kindness- which are all dominantly Hufflepuff ideals, & people always overlook this but you don’t actually have to be a nice person to be in Hufflepuff. Every house is capable of producing dark wizards (there was an evil Hufflepuff in Hogwarts Legacy !) so even all those suspicions that Crowley might be downright evil could still make him a Hufflepuff, just not the stereotypical one. If he 100% idealizes kindness, even if he doesn’t positively reinforce it, then he’s still a Hufflepuff (though he is admittedly really Slytherin too)

Kalim is self-explanatory but I did kinda consider Ravenclaw or Gryffindor. Kalim is brave to keep Jamil around even after he tried to defame him & he’s strong enough to keep a genuine smile on his face despite being betrayed & facing near death situations all his life. Now I know Kalim isn’t book smart but he has really high emotional intelligence, he knows a lot more than he lets on, as shown by some of the inquisitive things he says to others

my house :p

Crewel’s got that academically smart (alchemy must be hard) & creative mix (his passion for fashion), I feel like Sam values insight & knowledge mainly to increase sales but just valuing those things makes him a Ravenclaw, & I just put Trein in Ravenclaw because he likes history & different cultures (although he could be a Hufflepuff with his loyalty, dunno though since that’s really just him being a good husband)

Lilia could be a Hufflepuff, with his love & loyalty to the Draconia royal family, but his vast wisdom & eccentricity made me put him in Ravenclaw instead, though I am kinda hesitant about it. With Leona, I know he’d totally be a Slytherin with how cunning he is & although he’s very ambitious, he’s so lazy it’s counterproductive to his desires. But I put him in Ravenclaw because he’s actually so smart & very knowledgeable, wise even

The Shroud brothers honestly could have been in Hufflepuff with their family loyalty, but Idia’s attitude pushed him into Ravenclaw instead. He also loves delving deep into his passions & interests, using knowledge to his advantage. Same with Ortho since he’s a walking encyclopedia & also takes full advantage of his constant access to data banks & the whole internet. The Shrouds are almost like eternal, nonstop knowledge gatherers, especially with how their family literally devotes themselves to researching overblot

Rook is pretty self-explanatory with his intense curiosity & his pursuit for beauty could also be interpreted as a pursuit for diversifying one’s knowledge of the world so one could embrace all the beauty within different cultures & such. But he is also very Hufflepuff with how nice & insanely loyal he is… (so loyal to all he almost isn’t loyal….)

Jade could be a Slytherin, but I don’t think he’s as ambitious as Azul? He uses cunning much more often but otherwise, his genuine fascination with mushrooms & human life places him in Ravenclaw as at his core, Jade’s really into research & gaining more knowledge of a world on land that he was once a stranger to

I was thinking Slytherin could be a good fit for Malleus but I’m hesitant for some reason ..??

Don’t know much about Vargas’s personality & I wanted to avoid just tossing him in Gryffindor to mindlessly follow the jock=Gryffindor stereotype

I know many would put Riddle in Ravenclaw, & at surface level, I would do the same. But to be in Ravenclaw you actually have to believe knowledge is power…& Riddle doesn’t actually love constantly pursuing knowledge. Even if he thinks academics are important, he would have never been studying so diligently if it wasn’t for his mother’s influence and control over his childhood….

•°. *࿐ •°. *࿐ •°. *࿐

Where would you sort everyone?

🎄Merry Christmas everyone~

[training4theapocalypse]

Finders Keepers Ch 18. (Cormac McLaggen x fem!reader)

Rating: Explicit 18+ (no smut in this particular chapter)

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: Canon-typical violence

Summary: Hogwarts has changed.

A/N: This took a hot minute but on the plus side I have the next three chapters written and ready to post! Next chapter coming next Sunday <3

Masterlist

Chapter 18: Calling

Your heart pounds as you make your way through the secret passageway from the Hog’s Head to Hogwarts. This must be how some people feel walking out of the dark tent of the Quidditch changing rooms and onto the roaring pitch. But not you - never you. The feeling of the broom handle slipping from your clutch so often you have to swap hands is an unexpected departure from the norm - something experienced by lesser players. 

But this is no game. 

Because if your side doesn’t win, you’ll be sent straight back to Azkaban. And you’re not letting that happen. They won’t take you alive. You’d rather die - you’d rather take a killing curse straight to the chest than go back to Azkaban. You can’t do it again. You’re not as brave or resilient as McLaggen. 

Though you’ve not yet told him this worry that has been playing on your mind as the two of you, Cho, Marietta, Carmichael, Leanne, Katie, Davies and Krum walk down the winding passageway in silent anticipation, each of you with your brooms in hand. 

After what seems like an extremely long time, you hear noise coming from behind a door at the end of the passageway. It’s easy to pretend it’s a crowd of excited Quidditch fans anticipating your walk-out. It steadies you and makes it easier for you to hold onto your slipping broom. As you approach the sounds of chatter and laughter, you can’t imagine what there is to be happy about - the D.A. coins just said that you were supposed to be fighting. Neville Longbottom will be on the receiving end of your fist if you’re here on a fool’s errand.

Cho pushes open the door and you appear to have stepped into some kind of makeshift camp. Around twenty students are milling around underneath a mishmash of hammocks and banners depicting Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff house hangings. A Muggle storybook that your dad used to read to you comes to mind. Peter Pan. You look at the students and realise how young they all look in their school uniforms. This is a hideout for lost children. It makes you notice how much taller and older you are since the last time you were in the castle. 

The old stone walls look like the ones in Hogwarts but you certainly don’t remember a room like this. “Are we - is this Hogwarts?” you ask McLaggen when you, Krum and Davies, are the only ones who look puzzled.

“Room of Requirement,” McLaggen says, squeezing your much smaller, slightly damp hand. His touch is reassuring. You’d wipe your hand on your fresh pair of jeans first if it was anyone else reaching for it. But McLaggen would never be disgusted by your nerves. It only makes him hold on tighter and rub the back of your hand with his thumb. 

The arrival of your noticeably older group seems to have interrupted something important. There’s a split second of silence when everyone turns to look at you all. “I got the message,” says Cho, holding up her fake galleon sheepishly. And that’s when you clock him. 

Harry Potter.

Cho’s ex-boyfriend and Undesirable Number One stares open-mouthed at her. Marietta’s smirk paints a picture of her blatant enjoyment of Potter’s shock even in the face of a battle. Cho smiles diplomatically and links her arm through Krum’s.

You wonder if Potter has been hiding here all this time. In the school itself. If he has, Potterwatch certainly never reported that. 

As the rest of you follow her towards a small group of Ravenclaws sitting on a bench near the back of the room, there’s a mixture of exclamations and mutterings. There’s a spotlight on you. To be observed from all sides like this is suffocating. The last time you were around this many people was when you were marched through the Ministry atrium by Mr McLaggen after you’d just been sentenced to another two years in Azkaban.

“Is that - ?”

“Krum! It’s Viktor Krum!”

“They’re the ones that broke all the Muggleborns out of Azkaban, right?”

“Oh my gosh, Marietta!” The Patil twins and Lavender Brown greet Marietta with squeals and air kisses. You try not to frown. They’re acting like you’re at a high school reunion instead of battle preparations. 

Just then, the crowd parts and you see two familiar faces from the Ravenclaw Quidditch Team. Although you recognise them, their faces are significantly different from when you last saw them.

“Alright, Captain? Azkaban not exciting enough or something?” asks Terry Boot. You gape at him when he shakes your hand. He looks, frankly, dreadful. His lip is bloody and several of his teeth are missing. There are gouges on his forearms that look as though they’ve been made by a blade. Michael Corner, who shakes your hand next doesn’t look much better. His half-closed, swollen, bruised eye resembles McLaggen’s after his fight with Marcus Flint and Cerys Thicknesse.

“Terry! Michael! Has - has the fighting started then?” you ask.

“This?” asks Terry, examining his own forearms in surprise, like he’s forgotten he’s sporting half-healed wounds. “Nah, this was the Carrows.”

“The Carrows?” you ask, thinking about what you’ve read in the Daily Prophet. “Those Death Eaters who’re teaching here now?”

“Yeah,” replies Terry. “It’s not the same here, Captain. I mean, Muggle Studies turned into Alecto Carrow lecturing us on how Muggleborns are just Muggles who stole magic from unsuspecting wizards.”

“I know a thing or two about that,” you say sourly. “I don’t know how much you heard about why I was sent to Azkaban but -”

“‘Course we know. What, you think we haven’t been keeping up with the player who ‘hoodwinked the Harpies’? That’s how I got this.” Terry rolls up his shirt to reveal a long, healed scar on his torso. “Back in October, Alecto was using you and Carmichael as examples of what happens to Muggles who steal magic. So I asked her who stole her magic since she was so bloody useless.”

“Terry…” You’re too stunned to even finish your sentence. 

“Bloody hell, mate. And they did that to you?” asks Carmichael.

“That’s not the worst of it, I mean, Michael got tortured pretty badly for trying to set some first years free from the dungeons.”

Michael shrugs his shoulders and glances at his ex-girlfriend, Cho, expectantly. Perhaps hoping she’ll be impressed. 

“The dungeons? They’re locking students up?” Cho asks.

“Yeah! By their ankles and everything. Hogwarts has changed.” Michael pauses before giving you a funny kind of grin. “They’ve even cancelled Quidditch.” 

Before you can open your mouth to reply, Harry Potter gets the room’s attention. 

“Okay,” Potter calls to the room at large. Everyone shuts up. You feel alert. Not quite the same cheery excitement as everyone else but something is stirring inside you. Maybe your body is relieved that win or lose, this is all about to be over. Potter continues. “We’re back because there’s something we need to find. Something… something that will help us overthrow You-Know-Who. It’s here at Hogwarts but we don’t know where. It might have belonged to Ravenclaw. Has anyone heard of an object like that? Has anyone come across something with her eagle on it, for instance?”

You, Cho, Marietta and the other Ravenclaws exchange significant looks. There’s only one object like that. When you were at Hogwarts, you passed by the statue of Rowena Ravenclaw wearing it every day. 

But Luna Lovegood pipes up before any of you can. “Well, there’s her lost diadem,” she says in a dreamy voice. “The Lost Diadem of Ravenclaw. Daddy’s trying to duplicate it.”

“Yeah, but the lost diadem is lost, Luna. That’s sort of the point,” says Michael, rolling his eyes.

“When was it lost?” asks Potter.

Jesus Christ, pick up a history book. You pull a face and look at McLaggen but you rearrange your expression quickly when he’s just as perplexed as Potter. 

“Centuries ago, they say,” says Cho, much more kindly than you would have. You can’t fathom how the diadem would help defeat You-Know-Who. You picture Potter wearing the tiara mid-duel, glittering above his scar. “Professor Flitwick says the diadem vanished with Ravenclaw herself. People have looked but -” She looks at you. “They’ve never found a trace of it, have they?” You shake your head.

“Sorry, but what is a diadem?” asks the worst keeper to have ever graced the Quidditch pitch at Hogwarts. It’s not a stupid question but you find yourself rolling your eyes. Even now, almost two years after Ron Weasley was chosen over McLaggen for the Gryffindor team, his presence annoys you.

“It’s kind of a crown,” says Terry. “Ravenclaw’s was supposed to have magical properties. Enhance the wisdom of the wearer.” 

“And none of you have ever seen anything that looks like it?” asks Potter.

“If you’d like to see what the diadem is supposed to look like, I could take you up to our common room and show you, Harry?” Cho suggests. “Ravenclaw’s wearing it in her statue.”

Potter, Weasley and Granger huddle together to discuss this. Ugh, Granger. You didn’t even notice her at first but the sight of her makes you realise you’re holding a grudge. The scars from her curse still mark Marietta’s face. It’s been years since the entire Umbridge debacle and you can still make out the word ‘SNEAK’ across her nose and cheeks. You glance at Marietta to see if the same irritation you feel is mirrored on her face too but she doesn’t seem bothered. In spite of everything, she’s quicker to forgive than you are. And you think Carmichael has been a good influence on her.

But even though Carmichael might like Marietta’s scars because they give her an ‘edge’, you decide that after the battle you’ll repay Marietta for her part in getting you out of Azkaban by trying to reason with Granger - you’ll ask her to break the curse. If you win and Marietta is seen to be helping, surely Granger will at least do that for her.

“Listen, I know it’s not much of a lead but I’m going to go and look at this statue. At least find out what the diadem looks like,” announces Potter.

Cho gets to her feet but Ginny Weasley gets to hers too. 

“No, Luna will take Harry! Won’t you, Luna?” Ginny says urgently.

“Calm down. Nobody wants your man,” Marietta mutters under her breath and even though you like Ginny, the unexpected jibe makes you snort a laugh.

“Ooh, yes, I’d like to,” says Luna and Cho sits down looking disappointed. You’ve all been trapped inside doing nothing for so long, you know she was desperate for the chance to be useful. Marietta touches her shoulder comfortingly as she sits. 

“So what are we meant to do now?” McLaggen asks nobody in particular as the buzz of conversation resumes and Potter and Luna leave the Room of Requirement. 

“Wait for the Chosen One, to return with an ancient magic relic that’s been lost for centuries?” you suggest, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Should only take him ten or so minutes, I suppose.”

“Viktor!” Calls a voice. You all turn around to see Fleur Delacour entering the room through the passageway with more stragglers. “I ‘ave been worrying about you since I saw you in ze Daily Prophet!” Krum goes over to greet her and she throws her arms around him.

“Woah, steady on Cho,” says Carmichael, bracing Cho’s shoulders as if holding her back. You share her perplexed look when she frowns.

“Come on, she’s not jealous of old friends catching up,” says Marietta.

“Yeah, what are you on about, Eddie?” asks Cho, looking perplexed as she turns to look up at Carmichael standing behind her bench.

“I know you’re not jealous,” he grins. “It’s just that Fleur’s the only Triwizard Champion you haven’t gone out with yet. I thought you might need help restraining yourself.”

“Oh, shut up!” laughs Cho, slapping him away. You and McLaggen crack up at this. 

“Katie!” Another group emerges from the Hog’s Head passageway. You all spin around again to see Oliver Wood, Angelina Johnston and Alicia Spinnet entering the room.

Everyone exchanges hugs and greetings and you keep an eye on the door - the parade of people coming through the passageway is getting thicker. Some you recognise, like students from the years above you, your old Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Lupin and the Aurors who patrolled Hogsmeade in your seventh year. 

“So, McLaggen, is it true that Captain’s been holding you and Marietta hostage?” asks Michael, raising an eyebrow.

You and McLaggen catch up with Terry and Michael. They share more gruesome details of what’s been happening with Hogwarts and you tell them the truth of what happened in Azkaban - from the fight that led to your trial to Carmichael’s breakout as the room continues to fill up with more and more people. 

Sometime later, the door at the top of the staircase opens and McLaggen stands up, looking over your shoulder. “Merlin’s beard, he’s done it. Potter’s got the diadem,” says McLaggen.

“What?!” You stand up, letting your broom fall out of your lap. 

You look up just in time to see Harry Potter practically tumbling down the top few stairs in shock at the size of the crowd. Noticeably diadem-less.

“‘Course, he hasn’t. I just wanted to see the look on your face,” laughs McLaggen.

“Harry, what’s happening?” asks Professor Lupin, meeting Potter at the stairs as you all gaze up at him. 

“Voldemort’s on his way. They’re barricading the school,” says Potter. You inhale sharply and McLaggen puts an arm around your shoulders instinctively. You-Know-Who is coming here. To Hogwarts. “We’re evacuating the younger kids. Everyone’s meeting in the Great Hall. We’re fighting.” 

​​A chill runs through the room, palpable in the sudden stillness that follows Potter's words. You catch Cho's eye, the fear and determination mirrored in her gaze reflecting your own feelings. Marietta fixes the front of her cardigan nervously. McLaggen's grip around you tightens.

You’re fighting. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The entire castle is alight with anticipation. The weight of the impending battle presses down on the atmosphere, darkening the night sky as you and McLaggen lead your group out of the Great Hall. As the most competent on brooms, you and your friends will be covering the sky, leading the aerial defence which suits you just fine.

Cool night air hits your face as the eleven of you make your way through the organised chaos and out, down the front steps of the castle. But just before you stop in the old stone courtyard and ready your brooms, Marietta and Carmichael jog to meet you and McLaggen at the front.

“Wait!” says Marietta, running to catch up. “Listen, Eddie and I are going to find McGonagall and help with her group. Neither of us is great on a broom.”

“What are you talking about? You’re miles better than you used to be -” You start but Marietta doesn’t let you finish.

“This isn’t like practising at home,” says Marietta seriously. “We need to play to our strengths here or else we’ll die.” 

Your mind whirs and you know Marietta’s has already weighed it all up too. Head versus heart. As usual, your head wins. That Ravenclaw logic that you both have in common. Of course, you’d like Marietta and Carmichael by your side as you face certain death but you need to admit she’s right. Everyone needs to do what gives your side the best chance of winning.

“But we’ve been practising for a reason,” urges McLaggen, his heart elbowing its way into the conversation to try and win the argument. “This is the reason! We should stick together.”

“We shouldn’t stick together for the sake of it, mate. Worst case scenario, is that Maz and I hold you back and end up getting one of you killed,” says Carmichael.

All of a sudden, Cho lets out a choked sob and grabs Marietta. You throw your arms around her too and hold on tight. You get a face full of Marietta’s curly auburn hair as the three of you clutch onto each other.

“Eddie and I are better at Transfiguration -” she tells your shoulder.

“Way better than you lot,” calls Carmichael.

Marietta pulls back. “We’re going to help McGonagall with the battlements. She’s already transfigured the suits of armour but we think she’s forgotten about the gargoyle statues on the outside walls.” Her matter-of-fact voice grounds you.

You swallow thickly and try your best to nod. The jerk of your head makes the knot in your throat tighten. There’s no arguing with her reasoning.

“Don’t do anything reckless, alright?” Marietta’s question is directed at McLaggen specifically. He nods.

“We’ll see you when this is all over, innit?” says Carmichael with a cheeky grin that lights up his face. “This time tomorrow, we’ll be back at Seafarer’s having a party to celebrate.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, mucker,” you tell him before he and Marietta turn on their heels.

Nerves. Awful, gut-wrenching nerves rear their head again as you drag your eyes from Marietta and Carmichael’s silhouettes sprinting back through the open castle doors. Your hands shake as you grip your broom and get ready to kick off into the air. 

At least when you were storming into Azkaban you knew what to expect. You were the ambushers. But tonight you’re sitting ducks. You look at McLaggen - his handsome face lit up by the glowing castle torches is so full of determination. His confidence helps you breathe a little easier.

Eleven brooms lift into the night sky, overlooking the ground from the courtyard below to those familiar old Quidditch stands in the distance. The mild summer night air sweeps through your hair. Your stomach settles immediately. You feel at home - just like your first flying lesson at Hogwarts. You were terrified of being launched into the air on nothing but a flimsy-looking piece of old wood. But as soon as you reached a height where you could see everything looking so small you became a giant on top of the world, ready to conquer anything.

You were made to do this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fire.

You’ve never seen flames so high or felt them so hot.

Your face burns, sweat drips down your back and your hands slip from your broom handle.

There’s a snapping and cracking of wood. You’ve never really appreciated just how tall the Quidditch stands are until two of them begin to topple over, burning across the width of the grass pitch in long, white-hot streaks.

Smoke floods your lungs - you’ve lost everyone in the opaque blackness. You can hear their shouting. You need to get higher. You could manage being out here yourself but keeping an eye on the others, worrying about them as they send jets of light through the smog, is distracting you.

More creaking and groaning from above you as you’re forced to double back on yourself to avoid the crashing down of another one of the stands.

Why is everything here made of wood? 

When the Death Eaters set fire to the first stand, the rest of them caught in flames one after the other like toppling dominoes. It’s only right now that you realise how irresponsible it was of you to set McLaggen’s broomstick on fire last year in a fit of rage. 

McGonagall really should have expelled you after all.

You see jets of light down below in the smoke and try not to panic. The smoke is even darker and thicker down where your friends are. They need to get higher too. So high that spells from Death Eaters on foot can’t reach any of you while you regroup.

“Formations!” you yell down into the billowing blackness. “Skyward! Skyward!” It’s useless. Fuck. They can’t hear you above the cracking of the flames and the screaming of curses. You point McLaggem’s dad’s wand at your throat and cast an amplifying charm. “Sonorus… SKYWARD!” 

Your voice - magically amplified - booms across the pitch, slicing through the cacophony of flames and battle cries. Your team appears, rising through the smoke one by one: Krum. Wood. Cho. Katie. Alicia. Angelina. Leanne. Davies. Corner. Boot. And finally, McLaggen.

“What now Captain?” asks Cho.

You remove the amplifying charm. “Retreat. Back to the castle. The pitch is done for and we’re fighting one on one down there -”

“But that’s a good thing!” says McLaggen. “We’re keeping them away from the castle -”

“At what cost?” You snap over the roar of the fire. “We’re not sacrificing ourselves!”

“Listen, I know that you -”

But just what McLaggen knows about you is lost in chaos as a black swishing cloak in a stream of charcoal smoke flies through the middle of your group, sending you all scattering. You just about hang onto your broom. But then another one comes. And another one.

The Death Eaters can fly without brooms. 

This is more than just apparition - they’re aiming themselves as you scatter, trying to purposefully knock you out of the air. And at this height, it means certain death.

Just as the thought crosses your mind - it happens. The world narrows to a single point of focus as you see a figure plummeting through the smoke-streaked sky, their descent uncontrolled and terrifying. All you know when you tilt your broom downwards and speed after them is that they’re one of your group.

If you make it quickly, you might be able to catch them.

“Arresto momentum!” bellows McLaggen’s voice behind you and the speeding body of Alicia Spinnett comes to a cushioned stop just feet above the ground. You decelerate as quickly as you can, your feet touching the ground precisely before you collide with her.

McLaggen lands with a thud beside her and lowers his wand. Alicia gets to her feet clutching her heart, searching for her wand in her pocket.

“Fuck. Shit. Thanks, McLaggen.” Alicia’s stunned gratitude is genuine.

He nods. “Just stay alive, alright?”

The rhetorical question hangs between them for just a second until it's punctuated by a yell from the flames behind you.

“Aha! Stupe -”

“Protego!” You whip around, hoping you’ve sent it in the right direction. Your invisible barrier flies up separating you, Alicia and McLaggen from the Death Eater just in time to deflect a stunning spell which rebounds and knocks him onto his back, out cold. 

"Nice one," says McLaggen. 

“Thanks.” Your voice is as steady as your wand arm, still holding up the shield charm as the three of you scan the pitch for further threats. 

There’s another roaring creak above you. A flaming stand sways in the air and the three of you gape momentarily in shock as the burning wood begins tumbling down.

You and McLaggen retreat backwards while Alicia stumbles the other way. The colossal stand smashes onto the grass between you, sending tremors across the pitch. For a moment, fear paralyses you, the sight of the divided pitch a stark representation of how quickly fate can turn. 

“Alicia?!” your voice cracks as you call out, the fear of loss more suffocating than the smoke as you shield your face from the burning embers, looking for her in the darkness. 

“I’m here!” You can’t see her. And you’ve got no idea where your brooms are. “I’m okay!” she calls.

“Alicia? Cormac? Captain?” It’s Katie Bell’s voice from the same side as Alicia.

“Yaxley! There’s more here!” says a man’s voice behind you.

You and McLaggen whirl around to see more Death Eaters on your side of the pitch.

“Get back to the castle! Tell the others!” yells McLaggen to Katie and you both start sprinting towards the entrance to the Quidditch pitch, in the direction of the castle, hearing the Death Eaters shouting spells at you as you run for your lives. With an awful pang of guilt, you realise you lost your broom in all of the confusion. By now it’s probably reduced to nothing but firewood.

You point McLaggen’s dad’s wand over your head at the stands above. “Bombarda!” With an echoing snap, more burning wood begins to crash and fall.

You run as fast as you can, each step a gamble as you weave through the deadly rain of debris. The screams behind you tell you at least some of the Death Eaters aren’t so lucky. A chunk of wood plummets into the sand at the edge of the pitch with such ferocity, it reminds you of a speeding bludger. Then with a start, a memory from a lifetime ago flashes to the surface of your mind. A memory of a game you watched long ago in these very stands, watching Potter being chased by a bludger around the pitch with such targeted ferocity it broke his arm.

An enchanted bludger.

Just as you and McLaggen run through the entrance to the pitch, you grab his hand and drag him sideways.

“This way!”

“Wha - where?!”

“Hooch’s office!”

McLaggen doesn’t ask any more questions as you race towards the office on the outskirts of the pitch.

You barge through the door and lock it behind you.

The room is undisturbed. It looks exactly how you remember with the cabinet full of spare brooms and cases upon cases of spare Quidditch equipment.

“What are we-?”

“Cormac, do you remember that game back in our third year when Potter had that bludger chasing him and only him? And it broke his arm?” you ask urgently, as you start opening crates, frantically looking for the ones with the training bludgers.

“Yeah?”

“We’re going to recreate it.”

“We’re gonna get a bludger to attack the Death Eaters?”

“Not just one…” You find the heavy crate you’re looking for in the corner of the room and open it with a heaving grunt. Twenty bludgers strain against their straps. “And they need to be enchanted so they only attack the Death Eaters. Just like that time with Potter. They’ll be damn near impossible to stop with a wand. They’re too fast to get a good aim at.”

“You  - you know how to do it?”

“Not me. You.” You look up from the crate. McLaggen’s face is smeared with soot and there are holes burned by embers on his t-shirt. His hair is wilder than you’ve ever seen it. He runs two hands through it in that stressed-out way he does sometimes. 

“I don’t know how either!”

“You worked out how to extend the perimeter of the Fidelius Charm on your own,” you remind him.

“That took almost a week. And Carmichael helped.”

“Now’s not the time for your newfound modesty to make an appearance, McLaggen.” You throw open the broom cabinet and grab one of the spare school brooms. “I can buy you ten minutes.”

“No -” He tries to take the broom from you but you grasp it tight. “No way. You’re not holding them off. I’ll do it. I’m better at duelling -”

Of course, he wants to. But it’s time for you to take a leaf out of McLaggen’s book. It’s time to be brave.

“You’re better at duelling but I’m better at flying,” you say firmly, not quite believing you’re about to go back out there and face the Death Eaters on your own. “I’ll distract them and if I’m quick I might be able to stop them following the others back to the castle.”

“What if it doesn’t work?”

​​You drop your broom and put both hands on his shoulders to look him in the eyes. 

“McLaggen, you’re ten times the wizard any of those Death Eaters are. But if you can’t -” You pause thinking about the last time you gave him a pep talk before Gryffindor played Hufflepuff. “If you can’t do this - that’s okay too. Just get back to the castle. Alive. Please.”

“And you?”

“I’m not going back to Azkaban, Cormac!” The words fly out more hysterically than you’d intended. “I either do this or die trying. I won’t let them take me. I’d rather die than go back.”

“Okay,” he says simply, taking your face in his hands. You don’t even realise you’re crying until McLaggen wipes away a tear from your cheekbone. “Okay.”

Cormac pulls you close and kisses you. 

Kisses you like it’s the last time he’ll ever get the chance.

“Ten minutes.”

Chapter 19: Quidditch

Tag list: @countlambula, @ratsys, @aweidlich, @navs-bhat, @stainedpomegranatelips, @chiaraanatra, @xxvelvetxxxx, @ohnoitsrosie, @dracosisteer, @daisydark, @intense-sneezing, @lipstickandloveletters, @ichorai, @marmie-noir, @lolitstiana, @evabellasworld, @ivebeentrashsince2001, @xyzstar, (let me know if you want removed at any point btw!)

[morgan-magic]

OUR SOULS IN TIME | CH 5 ON AO3

In which Draco begins the chapter on his knees for Hermione, Theo enters the chat with Veritaserum, and we earn the inappropriate use of transfiguration tag 🍏

Additional tags so far:

Aurors Draco and Hermione; Forced Collaboration; Competent Draco Malfoy; Hermione Granger is So Done; Fast Sexual Burn; slower emotional burn; Addictive Behaviours; Therapy; Draco Malfoy is a Little Shit; Draco Malfoy & Ginny Weasley Friendship; Minor Neville Longbottom/Pansy Parkinson; Horcruxes; Banter; Historical events; Time Travel; Hermione Granger & Harry Potter Friendship.

Rated E and updates weekly.

Read on AO3

[sideprince]

Can we talk about this for a moment please:

‘Sir Cadogan, did you just let a man enter Gryffindor Tower?’ ‘Certainly, good lady!’ cried Sir Cadogan. There was a stunned silence, both inside and outside the common room. ‘You - you did?’ said Professor McGonagall. ‘But - but the password!’ ‘He had ‘em!’ said Sir Cadogan proudly. ‘Had the whole week’s, my lady! Read ‘em off a little piece of paper!’ Professor McGonagall pulled herself back through the portrait hole to face the stunned crowd. She was white as chalk. ‘Which person,’ she said, her voice shaking, ‘which abysmally foolish person wrote down this week’s passwords and left them lying around?’ There was utter silence, broken by the smallest of terrified squeaks. Neville Longbottom, trembling from head to fluffy-slippered toes, raised his hand slowly into the air.

-Prisoner of Azkaban, Ch. 13

According to Sir Cadogan, Neville had the whole week's passwords, which implies that Neville was only in possession of the paper he'd written it on for a week at most. In fact, in the previous chapter after McGonagall gives Harry back his Firebolt and says, “I daresay you’ll need to get the feel of it before Saturday’s match, won’t you?” Harry and Ron run into Neville:

They turned into the corridor to Gryffindor Tower and saw Neville Longbottom, pleading with Sir Cadogan, who seemed to be refusing him entrance. ‘I wrote them down,’ Neville was saying tearfully, ‘but I must’ve dropped them somewhere!’ ‘A likely tale!’ roared Sir Cadogan. Then, spotting Harry and Ron, ‘Good even, my fine young yeomen! Come clap this loon in irons, he is trying to force entry to the chambers within!’ ‘Oh, shut up,’ said Ron, as he and Harry drew level with Neville. ‘I’ve lost the passwords!’ Neville told them miserably. ‘I made him tell me what passwords he was going to use this week, because he keeps changing them, and now I don’t know what I’ve done with them!’

-PoA, Ch. 12

Stay with me, there is actually a point to all this.

The Quidditch game was on Saturday. Sirius Black entered Gryffindor Tower that same night. In the next chapter (Ch. 14) we see Ron spend the next few days getting attention for Sirius' attack, then he and Harry are invited to Hagrid's - who wants to talk to them about Hermione - and when they get back to Gryffindor Tower that evening there's a post on the noticeboard about a Hogsmeade visit that weekend. We know that Hogsmeade visits only happen every few months, and that the last one was in Ch. 10.

So the timeline would be:

Neville gets passwords and writes them down

Quidditch match within the same week

Sirius attacks Gryffindor Tower

Hogsmeade weekend announced for the Saturday following the match

Therefore Neville could not have possibly gone into Hogsmeade, ie. left school grounds, between writing the list of passwords and Sirius entering Gryffindor Tower. Which means that if Neville had lost the paper with the week's passwords on it, he could only have done so on school grounds. Yet no one, including the teachers, is asking the question of how Sirius Black was able to get his hands on Neville's cheat sheet if it meant he had to enter school grounds to do so in the first place.

In fact, all McGonagall does is punish Neville and prevent him from going into Gryffindor Tower by himself, while not checking the school's security and searching for the breach in it that allowed Sirius to get into the grounds in the first place. Sure, we know that he did so because he was an animagus and apparently the protective charms don't apply to animals (which, as an animagus and Deputy Headmistress, McGonagall should have flagged), and we know that it was Crookshanks who stole Neville's passwords to give to Sirius. But McGongagall doesn't know this. Neither does the rest of the staff. All they know is that a student lost a list of passwords on school grounds, and Sirius Black got his hands on them - inevitably also while on school grounds.

And yet no one reaches this conclusion or does anything about it.

[so-scarlett-maroon]

Doubts and Presumptions Ch. 6

Ship: Hermione x Draco x Neville Rated: E for smut No Archive Warnings Apply Updates Weekly

Summary: After a nasty break up Hermione feels ready to be a little more adventurous with her love life. But when she flirts with Draco Malfoy at a party and starts developing feelings for Neville Longbottom in the same week, she worries she might have gotten a little in over her head. Soon both men are vying for her attention and their rivalry leaves Hermione breathless. What's a girl to do?

On AO3: Chapter 6 Chapter 1

Excerpt Below

When the invitation to the International Magical Cooperation Gala arrived, Neville had been expecting it. Whenever the Ministry needed to show off in front of the other Wizarding communities, they always paraded out the war heroes. Neville was on the B team, back row to the Golden Trio of course, but invited all the same. But this event was going to be different than all of the ones before. Because Hermione would not be Ron’s date, Romilda would. He knew it would be a hard night for Hermione. He didn’t know how he could make it easier on her. She’d made it clear that babying her was not appreciated.

Neville sighed, tossing the glossy paper on to his counter. He walked across the small space to his living room. He lived in a tiny flat above his shop allowing him to always be nearby to take care of the plants. The downside was living in a place much too small for someone of his size. It also didn’t help that he’d filled much of the space with his personal plant collection. He had hanging pots with flutterby plants and squills as well as a potted fiddle leaf fig and monstera plants. He settled on the rug in front of his Floo, the leaves of the monstera pushing into his face, and called out Grimmauld place.

Harry’s boyish grin greeted him in the green glowing flames. “Hey Nev, what’s up?”

Neville pushed the monstera plant to the side, giving him room to sit. “Hey mate, have you looked through the post yet today?”

Harry shook his head. “Haven’t had the time. What came?”

“Gala invite,” he answered simply.

Harry nodded, understanding instantly. “How about you step on through? She wouldn't like us talking about this without her.”

Neville had already been down in the shop this morning, watering and pruning, so he was dressed in a deep red shirt and jeans, but he’d had no time to clean up before he’d Flooed. His nails had dirt under them and he knew he still smelled of vegetation. He supposed that was nothing new for him though, and walked through the open Floo.

Maybe she won’t go, he mused. Godric knew she deserved a reprieve. Hermione and Harry had been trotted out more than any of the rest of them. Avoiding more of that and Ron as well would be for the best.

As he stepped out he found the room empty. He assumed Harry had gone to grab the woman on both of their minds.

She walked down the stairs her tan, ankle length skirt swooshed with each step. She looked happy, calm. Possibly even glad to see him. He hated that he wasn’t here with better news.

“Hey Nev, what a nice surprise.”

He smiled back, but it must not have been very convincing. She narrowed her eyes. “What’s going on?”

Neither man responded.

Continued on A03

[browneyesandhair]

Storm of Yesterday by ShayaLonnie

Summary:

Hunted by Voldemort, Hermione and Harry make a last stand in Godric's Hollow. When the Boy-Who-Lived lives no more, Hermione is thrown back in time into another battle where she has a chance to save not only Harry, but another Potter. — Begins Mid Deathly Hallows, AU going forward.

Relationship: Hermione Granger/James Potter

Characters: Hermione Granger, James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Harry Potter, Alice Longbottom, Frank Longbottom, Emmeline Vance, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Mary Macdonald, Narcissa Black Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, Neville Longbottom, Various Weasleys, Lily Evans Potter

Additional Tags: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Violence, Canonical Character Death, AU - Canon Divergence, AU - Time Travel, AU

Notes: Oh my goodness - I absolutely love this story. The character development for James is so fascinating. The slow burn between James and Hermione and how they don't immediately get together, it feels way more natural. I'm obssesed.

(This is part of my year of recs. I'm trying to share some of my favorite stories on tumblr. I've set up a series of Soulmate recs for each month on the 15th, but these will be randomly dispersed throughout the year.)

Spolier below of ch. 25/68

Okay, but why did you choose a bowl of ice cream as the picture? Because this scene WRECKED me. It was so integral and important, but it was just such a heartwrenching moment. Specifically this moment:

Hermione reached out, looking at Harry's hands. "I'm sorry," she whispered, more to James than Harry. "I didn't mean to scare him or to—"

Angry and guilty, James shifted Harry to his other arm, pulling him further away from the witch. "Can you just . . . can you let me take care of my own kid, Hermione?" he snapped and then turned away, following Molly into the house.

AHHHHH! Like it still kills me. ABSOLUTELY AMAZING STORY!!

[ihaveitprinteddout]

I am so soft for this 🥺 Y/N's small acts of kindness throughout the hospital probably mean to the patients than she could ever know. she truly is an angel 🤍

An Angel/// Neville Longbottom x Reader

A/N: I really just wanna get this fics done so this is a short author’s note. No one cares about this part anyways so it’s fine.

Other holiday fics:

Sirius Black   Charlie Weasley   Draco Malfoy   Newt Scamander   Harry Potter   James Potter   Remus Lupin

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

     When Neville walked into his parents usual room he thought he’d walked into the wrong one. He paused for a minute and looked around. It had been beautifully decorated with an assortment of holiday decorations. The room usually seemed sad and grey but today it seemed lively. His gran looked up at him in surprise. 

     “We walked into the right room,” she said as they continued walking. “So then who’s done all of this.” She gazed around in wonder and Neville was too busy doing the same to even realize she had asked him anything. 

     His mother sat on the bed with her eyes fixed on the small but beautifully decorated. Neville tore his attention from the decorations and walked up to his parents with his same small smile.

     “Merry Christmas, mum. Merry Christmas, dad.” They didn’t even seem to notice him but he didn’t mind that much. His mom’s eyes drifted over to him, she gave him an absent smile before looking back at the decorations. Neville went to go sit down. 

    The door opened which usually only happened when there was a healer but this time it was different. A young woman, close to Neville’s age entered. You was wearing a santa hat and had a box in her hands. When you saw Neville and his gran you smiled. 

    “Sorry, I didn’t know anyone would be here.” Neville stared at you in amazement….you were beautiful. 

    “It’s fine,” his gran replied. “Are you a healer?” You shook your head. 

    “No, but one of my relatives is and so I help around here a lot.” 

    “Good, so you must know who decorated this place. It’s gorgeous.”

    “It was me actually. Sometimes the rooms in this place seem kinda drained of life and so I thought it would be nice for the patients if it looked a bit more….cheerful, I guess.” She got up from her seat and walked over to you. 

     “Well, you’ve done an amazing. Thank you.” She pulled you into a warm sort of hug only a grandmother could produce. You smiled and tried your best to hug her back despite the barrier of the box. “What else do you do around here?” 

     “Sometimes I sit and talk with the patients, a lot of the get lonely or I’ll take them outside or maybe play a game with them. I just try my best to keep them happy.” The woman smiled at you.

     “Your wonderful, your like an angel. I can’t believe I’ve never seen you around here,” she continued. Neville agreed with his grandma wholeheartedly. You were indeed an angel. You laughed. Neville made a mental note of how beautiful it sounded. 

     “I don’t know about all that but thank you anyways. My name’s (Y/N).” 

     “I’m Augusta.” You turned to the boy who was staring at you with wide eyes.

     “And you are?” It took him a minute to realize that you were even talking to him. 

    “Oh! I’m Neville,” he mumbled. He looked down at his feet and you could see his face getting red. 

    “Hi.” You gave him a little wave before turning back to his grandmother. “I’ve got a little something for them if you don’t mind.” 

    “I don’t mind at all, go ahead.” You walked over to the bed and handed them both a identical piece of candy. Frank gave you a smile smile but Alice looked ecstatic. She grabbed your hand and looked like she was trying to find the words to say but couldn’t figure it out. When she let go you turned back around and walked over to where Augusta and Neville were sitting.

     “It’s not much but they seem to really like that candy so I try to get it for them as often as I can.” Augusta grabbed your hands between her two hands and smiled up at you. 

    “It’s lovely.” You looked over at Neville. 

    “I’ve still got a few more to drop off. Do you want to come with me?” Neville’s eyes went wise like he didn’t realize you knew he was there.

     “Me? Yeah, absolutely! I’d love to spread the joy and whatnot,” he replied awkwardly. You had a hard time trying not to laugh but you didn’t want him to feel bad so you didn’t. 

     “Come on, Neville.”

     You dropped off the remainder of your presents with Neville at your side. He was a bit quiet and awkward but you thought it was adorable and found yourself enjoying his presence very much. As you went around you told him a little bit about all of the patients, some of the healers, and the rooms. He listened with a great amount of interest.

     “That’s all really wonderful. You’re kinda…..awesome.” You laughed. 

     “Thanks.”

     “No really, gran was right, you’re like an angel. You smiled down at you feet. 

     “Thanks but it’s really not that big of a deal.” You finally looked back up and found him looking right at you. 

     “I think it’s a pretty big deal.” You stared at each other, slowly realizing that you were the only ones in the corridor. 

     “We’ve arrived at your parents room.” He looked around. 

     “Have we? Time really flew.” 

     “Yeah, you should go in. I’ll be right back.” You gave him a warm smile and he instantly believed you. 

     “Alright.” He walked into the room and sat down across from his gran without saying a word. He didn’t need to say anything the smile on his face said everything. 

     “You like (Y/N) don’t you?” Neville looked up at her quickly. 

     “What? No! I’ve only met her today, don’t be ridiculous.”

     “Neville, I know you. That girls wonderful and so pretty.” Neville averted his eyes so he didn’t have to look at her. There was a long silence.

      “Okay so maybe I do. But she’s….she’s perfect, she’ll never even think of a guy like me.” His gran looked confused. She leaned forward and placed a hand on his arm. 

     “Any woman who wouldn’t love my grandson is a fool.” Neville smiled at her and patted her hand with his own. 

     “Thanks gran.” A few seconds later the door opened. You entered carrying two mugs. 

      “I brought you guys hot chocolate. You’ve been so nice to me.” Augusta and Neville exchanged looks that you just barely caught. 

     “Have mine, dear. You’ve earned it. Oh and I’ve forgotten I’ve got an old friend here I promised I’d visit, I better go but you two should sit down and enjoy yourselves. I’ll be back.” She passed you before you could even think to question the authenticity of her excuse. You shrugged it all off and went to sit with Neville. 

     “I really appreciate you coming around with me Neville,” you said as you passed the mug to him. Him took a sip, savoring the taste. 

     “It was no trouble, I really enjoyed it. Spending time with you was fun.” He wondered if saying that was too forward but he’d already said it now. No going back. 

     “I enjoyed spending time with you too. We should do it again sometime. I’m up here almost every weekend maybe you could join me. Or we could do something else.” You looked into his eyes. You really hoped he’d agree to it but you honestly didn’t know. 

     “Really?” He sounded way more surprised than either of you had even expected. “I mean……yeah, totally.” He tried to play it off and act cool which you found hilarious. 

      “Fantastic.” You leaned across the table and kissed him on the cheek. “I’ve got to go but I’ll see you then. Have a fantastic Christmas.” You got up and walked towards the door, only looking back just at the exit to way at him. He waved back with a dreamy sort of look in his eyes. He watched you walked away with a small smile, his hand drifted to his cheek where your lips had been.

[saiilorstars]

Ch. 9: The Pureblood Lessons

Fandom: Harry Potter (hogwarts year 1-7) Pairing: Draco x OFC

taglist: @ocappreciationtag​​ @arrthurpendragon​​ @anotherunreadblog​​ @maaaaarveeeeel​​ @stareyedplanet​ @foxesandmagic​

Story Masterlist // Romina’s Masterlist

If you’d like to be a part of this OC’s work/edits, let me know!

Trevor the frog ribbited along the school lake while his owner endlessly chased after him, failing to catch the frog as it continued hopping away.

Romina giggled and swiftly swiped Trevor off the grassy ground. "You just love running about, don't yah?" she cooed at the frog.

"And you just love picking up disgusting things, don't you?" Pansy Parkinson mimicked her tone from the side. She and Arden were in the middle of arguing but of course Pansy took a moment to throw that comment out.

Romina ignored her for the first couple of seconds. "Neville, you're going to have to let me take care of Trevor during the summer, please."

Neville was startled by the comment, mostly because he didn't think anyone - much less a girl - would ever think about seeing him during the summer vacation. "S-sure. A-anytime y-you want."

Romina beamed. She always wanted a pet of some sort but she was never allowed one. Not even a goldfish!

"Look at that fellas, Longbottom's all red because someone might actually like him in this school," Draco had made a stop with Crabbe and Goyle. He was close to laughing at Neville's clearly excited face from Romina's words.

"Oh sod off, Draco," Romina said calmly. "Go taunt someone else for today. Unless you want to meet Trevor up close."

The moment she took a step towards him with the frog in her hands, Draco backed two steps extra. "Oswell, you better get that slimy creature away from me."

A mischievous expression settled across her face just as Romina glanced back at Neville. "You came over…" she said innocently, making another advance for Draco. "Don't you want to touch him."

There was a look of fury in Draco's face that no eleven year old should have been able to conjure up. "Oswell, you'll regret it!"

Romina laughed, and behind her Neville was struggling to hide his own. "You know all about the trapdoor incident with Harry, Ron and Hermione. Do you really think I'm not capable of it?"

Because thanks to Fred and George, the entire school knew about Quirrell and Harry's face off for the Stone. Romina had withheld her boasting of proving right to the three Gryffindors only until Ron had been let go of the hospital wing. She was still waiting for Harry to wake up and point out how Snape wasn't behind anything at all. But beside that, the whole school knew about the three Gryffindors and one Slytherin going through deadly traps set by professors themselves. Needless to say they'd earned some fame, and for Romina some acceptance again.

"Sometimes I think you're not quite the Oswell society would think," Draco ended up saying, but whether it had been a compliment or an insult he wasn't sure. That startled him, but he didn't think on it further.

For Romina, it was the best thing anyone could have said to her. "Draco," she lowered the toad, "That's the kindest thing you've ever said to me. I'm shocked."

"I'm not playing that game," Draco unexpectedly snapped.

"I should give you a hug!"

"Go hug Angel!"

Romina still wouldn't stop smiling and when she opened her arms for a hug, Draco quickly stalked off, calling out to her afterwards about her 'overreacting'.

Romina laughed and turned to Neville, holding Trevor out for him. "I owe Trevor big time now."

Neville barely had time to smile when they heard Hermione calling out for Romina. The girl was running towards them at lightspeed, her face almost covered completely by her bushy hair. Romina handed Trevor to Neville quickly for fear of being tackled down by Hermione.

"He's awake! He woke up!" Hermione was shouting, and thus had every student she passed by hear. "Harry's woken up!"

"Has he!?" Romina exclaimed excitedly. It had been four days since they had come back from the trapdoor but Harry, sustaining some heavy injuries, remained unconscious in the hospital wing.

Hermione nodded her head. "He's - he's with Ron in the-the h-hospital...wing!" she was out of breath due to her run. "I-I saw him! But...I had to...come get you…"

"Well let's go!" Romina didn't wait another minute and pulled Hermione into a brand new run.

Ron and Harry were already talking in the hospital wing, and while it took Madame Pomfrey another round of convincing, the girls were soon able to join and talk with Harry over what truly happened with the stone.

"What really happened, Harry?" Romina was the eager one to ask the question everyone was dying to know. "Who was it? And you can't say it was Snape because he's still working here."

"It wasn't Snape," Harry finally let Romina have the win. "It was Quirrell."

"It's always the quiet ones…" Romina mumbled to the side, but promptly received a whack on the arm from Hermione.

Of course, when Harry told the three of his friends how Voldemort had attached himself to - quite literally - the back of Quirrell's head, all jokes were put aside. Harry then explained how he had attained the stone from his pocket - thanks to Dumbledore's clever trick - and was able to fight off Quirrell/Voldemort until they had turned to dust.

"Love's the way to win?" Hermione made a face. She was never one for fairytales and this one was just plain wicked. Harry's mother's love had been his ultimate protection against Voldemort and Quirrell.

"So the Stone's gone, then?" Ron asked after Harry finished telling them the story. "Flame's just going to die?"

"That's what I said, but Dumbledore thinks that - what was it? - 'to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure," Harry repeated Dumbledore's words to them but no one was really understanding.

"Well, maybe it's for the best the Stone to just be destroyed," Romina said quietly. "It was causing too much trouble. Honestly, nobody should live forever."

Harry nodded. "So what happened with you afterwards when you got back to Ron?"

"We ran like mad," Hermione said with widened eyes. "We were heading to the owlery to contact Dumbledore when we met him in the entrance hall."

"And he just knew you were going after the stone," Romina said, slightly amused. "How well must he know you, hmm?"

"Do you think he meant you to do it?" Ron suddenly asked, getting both girls to look at him weirdly. "I mean, he sent you your father's cloak and everything…"

"Well, " Hermione exploded, "-if he did - I mean to say that's terrible - you could have been killed."

"No, it isn't," Harry calmly said. "He's a funny man, Dumbledore. I think he sort of wanted to give me a chance. I think he knows more or less everything that goes on here, you know. I reckon he had a pretty good idea we were going to try, and instead of stopping us, he just taught us enough to help. I don't think it was an accident he let me find out how the mirror worked. It's almost like he thought I had the right to face Voldemort if I could..."

Romina and Ron had matching faces, and Ron - unknowingly - spoke both their thoughts out loud. "Yeah, Dumbledore's off his rocker, all right."

"Ron," Hermione scolded but the ginger went on without a care.

"Listen, you've got to be up for the end-of-year feast tomorrow. The points are all in and Slytherin won, of course…" Ron threw a warning look in Romina's way, as if to say for her to keep quiet. "You missed the last Quidditch match, we were steamrollered by Ravenclaw without you - but the food'll be good."

"Yeah, and we can tell you all about how Fred and George thought it would be hilarious to gift you a toilet seat," Romina still laughed at the idea the twins had. "Nearly got them kicked out of the hospital wing."

Harry laughed, but the soreness of his head prevented him from a complete laugh.

~ 0 ~

"You're just an idiot, do you know that, Parkinson?" Arden was barely containing her shouts while Pansy, sitting beside her at the Great Hall, seemed less than put together.

"How dare you call me that, muggle-born?" snapped the girl. She discreetly looked over to Romina who was once again warning her - deadly silent of course - not to even dare to use the word against Arden. "Learn your place!"

Romina thanked Daphne Greengrass for the biscuit and tried her best to eat her dinner without snapping both Arden's and Pansy's necks. Those two were beginning to tire her out with all their bickering.

"Don't get stressed," she heard Angel say. She cracked a smile when she met his gaze and saw him sending her a worried look. "They can figure it out."

"I don't think they can," Daphne whispered to them, quietly drinking from her goblet.

"Nah, look," Romina nodded over to Dumbledore who was arriving to take his seat at the High Table. "They won't last longer."

"Not even because we've won the House cup they seem to forget their arguments," Daphne made a gesture to the Slytherin-colored banners decorating the room.

"Another year gone!" Dumbledore had begun his usual speeches, and of course everyone - including Arden and Pansy - ceased to talk. "And I must trouble you with an old man's wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully your heads are all a little fuller than they were... you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts. Now, as I understand it, the house cup here needs awarding, and the points stand thus: In fourth place, Gryffindor, with three hundred and twelve points; in third, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two; Ravenclaw has four hundred and twenty-six and Slytherin, four hundred and twenty."

The Slytherin table erupted into applause for themselves. No one else in the room seemed to agree.

"Yes, Yes, well done, Slytherin," Dumbledore cut in, "However, recent events must be taken into account."

Confusion fell across the Great Hall and with it came a curious silence.

"I have a few last-minute points to dish out. Let me see. Yes. First - to Mr. Ronald Weasley…"

Romina snapped her head in the Gryffindor table where she could see Ron looking just as shocked as everyone else.

"...for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award Gryffindor house fifty points."

The Gryffindor tables cheered for the new addition, but Dumbledore wasn't finished there.

"Second - to Miss Hermione Granger... for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor house fifty points."

"Third - to Miss Romina Oswell - for the outstanding collection of memory and logic, I award Slytherin house fifty points."

Romina wasn't exactly cheering for her own collection of points, and neither was her table, because they were all busy doing calculations…

"Fourth - to Mr. Harry Potter...for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house sixty points. And, there are all kinds of courage. It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends. I therefore award ten points to Mr. Neville Longbottom."

There was no doubt who had won the House cup with the shift of points. Even with Romina's 50 additional points, Slytherin had lost to Gryffindor by two points.

"Which means, we need a little change of decoration," Dumbledore clapped his hands and the Slytherin decorations came down to be replaced with Gryffindor's mighty lion and its brilliant red and golden colors.

The entire Great Hall had burst into a new round of applause and cheering, except for Slytherin of course. Their seventh year streak had broken. Romina was sad, of course, but she felt like losing wasn't the end of the world. There was always next year. In fact, there were six more years left.

~ 0 ~

The ride back to King's Cross would be long enough and when Romina and Arden sat down and noticed some of the dirty looks the older Slytherins were giving them — more specifically at Romina — the trip felt agonizingly long.

"Okay, why are they all staring at you?" Arden said in a hushed voice.

Romina rested her hands on the table, shooting dirty looks back at the elder Slytherins. "I don't know. Somehow they think us losing the House Cup is my fault. I won you 50 extra points!" She had exclaimed at the students and perhaps it was the embarrassment of being called out but they looked away.

"Your 50 extra points did nothing for us, Oswell," Draco said on his way down the aisle.

Romina arched an eyebrow at him. "Oh, well, I didn't see you risking your life to get those 50 points."

Blaise had come up behind Draco and heard Romina, leading him to snort. "Please, for Malfoy to do something risky, there'd have to be, I don't know, some sort of hurricane or something."

"Wow, did we just agree on something?" Romina laughed.

Draco rolled his eyes at the two. "You know, this is the kind of behavior that'll never let you rise the ranks."

"What ranks?" Arden made a face.

"You would never understand, King. It's beyond your muggle world."

Arden shook her head. "Whatever. I'm going to get me some candy off the trolley. I'd offer you some but I don't want to." She slid out of the booth and promised Romina she'd be back in a few minutes. She pushed past Draco and disappeared down the aisle.

"You really have to be a grump at all times?" Romina asked Draco a moment later. "I thought that was Blaise's job."

"Watch it, Oswell," Blaise warned and continued down the aisle to find him a better seat.

Draco surprised Romina by sliding down in the opposite seat of her booth. "You're going to have to watch your mouth in the future."

"Is that a warning?" Romina frowned. "Like, are you threatening me?"

"No," Draco said sharply, "It's a precaution. Trust me. Unfortunately, you're like Arden King in this world. You've lived cooped up in the muggle world to know the rules and the consequences in the Wizarding community."

"Consequences?" Romina understood less and less. "What on earth are you talking about? Can you go back to insulting me? You made more sense then."

Draco rolled his eyes and snapped at her to listen. "I don't want you getting into trouble because you just didn't know. You need to be careful now that you're going to be more involved in our world."

A strange smile spread across Romina's face. "Draco, I'm shocked."

"By what?"

"Your ability to care for my well-being — albeit it is very misguided."

Draco rolled his eyes again. "Forget it! This is what I get for trying to be nice!"

Romina chuckled. "It's a foreign concept to you, huh? Keep going, I'm fairly interested in how you're going to wrap it up."

Draco deadpanned her for a long minute. "Do you have to be so...you all the time?"

"I don't know how to be anyone else," Romina said simply.

"Well in this world — our world — you're going to have to be the best version of yourself," Draco said, leaning forward on the table, "Mistakes are not allowed, Oswell. Seriously."

Romina wondered how rash these "consequences" had been to have him looking even more pale than he already normally was. She tilted her head at him. Putting all her jokes aside, she suspected he was being honest with her. It was such a strange notion coming from him of all people. "Okay, um...well, you're right. I don't actually know much about our world, but that's not my fault. My aunt and uncle did that on purpose. Oswells are not very well liked amongst the public. You saw what half of the school did to me when they found out who I was."

"See, that's the thing, Oswell. You don't have to worry about all these different people so long as you pick the best of the group. And believe it or not, the Oswell name still carries prestige."

Romina scoffed and actually laughed thinking he was being absurd. "Yeah, right!"

Draco remained perfectly calm in the face of her laughter. "You are a pureblood witch, Romina. Your family has remained one of the last few pureblood families to remain. You fail to see how that puts you up the ranks."

"Well, I just...never really put thought into that," Romina admitted, her eyes shifting towards the other Slytherins around them.

"Why would you being surrounded by muggles," Draco said, shrugging, "I can't say that I blame you for lack of knowledge but now that you're here, you should learn. Learn the customs and traditions of purebloods — of our social circle."

"I-I don't know any of that stuff," Romina said, her face scrunching, "I wouldn't even know where to begin."

"I could help you," Draco said, startling her. "I would," he said, seeing her face of doubt.

"Why would you help me?" Romina raised an eyebrow at him. "You barely seem to like me."

"Purebloods help purebloods," Draco said flatly, "You're one of us, Oswell."

"Well, would you help Pansy if she was in my situation?"

"Alrihgt, maybe you're also about the least annoying girl of our year."

Romina smirked. "See, now that sounds more like you. So, how exactly would you help me out in this predicament? I doubt you'll be coming over to my house to give me lessons."

"God no!" Draco nearly laughed in her face. "I'd never step foot in your neighborhood."

Romina's smirk spread. "Never say never. I can be very persuasive."

"You would never persuade me to do such a horrible thing like that. You're missing my point here! Look, I'll write to you, okay? You do get our kind of mail, right?"

"I live in the muggle world, not the Stone Age," Romina said with a laugh.

"I'll take that as a 'yes'," Draco said, "Then you better respond to my letters, got it?"

"Got it," Romina nodded, fairly bemused with the whole thing. "I look forward to these history lessons. You should know that's where I got my lowest test score. I suck at history."

"Oh, so it wasn't Potions then? I hear you can be kind of bad at that too."

"Get out," Romina pointed at him to leave the booth.

With a smirk on his face, Draco slid out of the booth and went to go find Blaise further down.

Romina had just gotten comfortable on her own when Arden returned with a couple sweets in her arms. "Oh good, Malfoy's gone." Arden plopped down beside Romina. "I kind of hate that guy."

"Eh, he's not that bad," Romina shrugged. For the moment, she decided to keep Draco's abrupt help to herself. She didn't want it going around and getting to Harry of all people.

Halfway through the trip, Romina left the Slytherin compartment - which was really just the further compartment in the train the House collectively decided to overtake - and went to go find Harry. She found him, Hermione and Ron in a compartment more at the front of the train and sat down with them.

"You're not mad Gryffindor won this year, then?" Ron seemed to size Romina up while she took her time to answer.

"It's just a competition, Ron," she shrugged, "I don't really care. I can't say the same for most of my House, though."

Ron still cracked a smile at her. "That's fair. You know we'll crush you next year too, right?"

"Ron," Hermione jabbed her elbow in his side.

Romina just laughed. "Bring it on, Ron!"

Hermione exchanged a stunned glance with Harry. Maybe Romina's and Ron's relationship had finally mellowed out into a real friendship. Their suspicion was confirmed a moment later when Ron spoke again.

"You must come and stay this summer — the three of you! I'll send you an owl!"

"Ron, you would want me to come over?" Romina raised an eyebrow, skeptically looking at the ginger.

"I know we had differences, but you're definitely not like the Oswells were portrayed," Ron gave a sheepish shrug.

Romina hummed, swaying her head. "You're the second person to tell me that."

Romina remained with the Gryffindors when they finally reached their destination. It was a hassle getting back to the Slytherin compartment to retrieve her things and then getting out of the train. Luckily, it was easy to spot the Weasleys amongst the crowd of parents waiting on the platform.

Romina and Arden trudged with their trunks towards them and had a moment to chitchat until Romina spotted Lyonel and Sage approaching them. After the school year they had, Romina sqeualed with excitement seeing them.

"Well, someone's looking far happier than the last time," Lyonel hugged Romina tightly. He was happy to see the great change in his niece.

Romina pulled away, incredibly happy. "You wouldn't believe what happened!"

Sage nudged her husband and nodded in the direction of Harry, Ron and Hermione. To the side was still Mrs. Weasley and Ginny.

"Did you make new friends?" Lyonel went ahead and asked Romina, who immediately went red in the face.

"You did not just ask me that like I'm some kindergartner!"

Her friends, including little Ginny Weasley, burst into laughter. Romina covered her face, and shook her head in mortification. But deep down, she wasn't really that bothered.

A/N:

End of Book 1! Book 2 will continue in this same story! I don't have plans of making it into separate stories because there's literally 7 books so...yeah!

[serenaew]

Serena's Masterlists: HP: other ships and gen

Last updated 28/12/23

Overview

Other Ships:

Restoreth my soul (M, Bellatrix Lestrange/Alice Longbottom, complete)

[Filk] Nocturne (G, Snape x Reader, complete)

Gen:

Secret Passage (T, Severus Snape, complete)

Sectum Princeps (Dolorissimum) (M, Severus Snape, complete)

Highway to Hell (T, Severus Snape, complete)

Whoso list to hunt (T, Aberforth Dumbledore & Severus Snape, complete)

Peeving Whistles (G, F&G Weasley, Peeves, complete)

Lavender's Blue, Lavender's Green (T, Neville Longbottom & Albus Severus Potter, complete)

(And I Will Try To) Fix You (T, OC, complete)

The Art of Fugue (T, no character, complete)

[Filk] Embers and Soot (G, no characters, complete)

Assorted poetry:

A magic of its own (T, WIP: 2/?)

Details under the cut!

Details

Other ships:

Restoreth my soul (M, Bellatrix Lestrange/Alice Longbottom, complete)

Summary: You leava me no choice. Additional Tags/Warnings: Marauders Era, dark, torture, implied abuse, reference to Psalm 23

[Filk] Nocturne (G, Snape x OC, complete)

Summary: Flute solo filk (fanmusic), written for EtherealTrail's Snape x Reader fic Remedial Venom. Additional Tags/Warnings: flute solo, original music, Romanticism, Impressionism, Dark Academia

Gen:

Secret Passage (T, Severus Snape, complete)

Summary: The origins of the secret passage from the Room of Requirement to the Hog's Head. Additional Tags/Warnings: Canon Compliant - Deathly Hallows, Secret passages (Hogwarts), Headmaster Severus Snape, Cruciatus Curse

Sectum Princeps (Dolorissimum) (M, Severus Snape, complete)

Summary: The first cut hurts the most. - A canon-compliant-ish fic about how Sectumsempra came to be. Additional Tags/Warnings: bullying, domestic violence, Dark, Anger, Teenage Severus Snape, Character Study

Highway to Hell (T, Severus Snape, complete)

Summary: Severus hesitated before taking the last step to the Astronomy Tower. Additional Tags/Warnings: Double drabble, Battle of the Astronomy Tower, Canon Compliant

Whoso list to hunt (T, Aberforth Dumbledore & Severus Snape, complete)

Summary: Those on the hunt should never judge an inn by its looks. The pre-prequel to my Unspeakable Mysteries series, can be read as a standalone. Additional Tags / Warnings: Hog's Head Inn, Unspeakable Aberforth Dumbledore, Unspeakable Recruit Severus Snape, Good Severus Snape, Pre-Canon

Peeving Whistles (G, F&G Weasley, Peeves, complete)

Summary: Of portable swamps and whistling poltergeists. Additional Tags/Warnings: Book 5, Drabble

Lavender's Blue, Lavender's Green (T, Neville Longbottom & Albus Severus Potter, complete)

Summary: Albus Potter finds himself stuck on one of his Potions assignments, so he seeks his godfather Neville Longbottom's help. Additional Tags/Warnings: HP epilogue compliant, Potion technobabble, inspired by real-life frustrations, Herbology Professor Neville Longbottom, Slytherin Albus Severus Potter, text fic

(And I Will Try To) Fix You (T, OC, complete)

Summary: You remember fables from the olden times saying good old Muggle "Spellotape" can fix things magic can not. Additional Tags/Warnings: Drabble, POV 2nd Person, Hurt no Comfort, Song: Fix You (Coldplay), inspired by Peformance Art

The Art of Fugue (T, no character, complete)

Summary: The mind is not a book, to be opened at will and examined at leisure. Thoughts are not etched on the inside of skulls, to be perused by any invader. The mind is a complex and many-layered thing, Potter — […] Only those skilled at Occlumency are able to shut down those feelings and memories that contradict the lie. — Severus Snape, in Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix OR: What happens when the author hears double at the word "fugue", and is being challenged to write a poem. Additional Tags/Warnings: Poetry, Occlumency, Fugue, both dissociative Amnesia, and baroque music, Music Theory, inspired by: The Art of Fugue (J.S. Bach)

[Filk] Embers and Soot (G, no characters, complete)

Summary: An a cappella mashup song of Chim Chim Cheree (Mary Poppins) x Once upon a December (Anastasia) x In Noctem (Harry Potter). Additional Tags/Warnings: Filk, mashup, a cappella, original arrangement

Assorted poetry:

A magic of its own (T, WIP: 2/?)

[ritualoflovesmemory]

Exit Strategy (From Ch. 4)

The sounds of the goblins clearing the cavern grew louder. Kreacher’s huge ears twitched as he came to a stop.

“Master does not have much more time. Has Master decided to whom he will go?”

Harry’s brow furrowed in concentration. While he had slept, Kreacher had attempted to surreptitiously scout for allies with whom Harry could connect. Most of his obvious choices weren’t available. His first choice would have been to meet up with Lupin and Tonks, but Kreacher had been unable to find them. Shell Cottage and Aunt Muriel’s house were off the table as well, since Kreacher had reported that both were abandoned. Harry scowled when remembering Kreacher’s description of the burnt-out homes. The Burrow was a no-go, as was Luna’s house. 

The guilt of losing Ron and Hermione welled up in the pit of his stomach, but it was buffeted by the potential guilt of so many others who were in danger. He had no idea where the Weasleys had ended up. Not for the first time, he wondered if Ron’s death would mean the end of his connection to the family he considered to be his own. How could he ever look Mr. Weasley in the eye after leading his son to his end? Would he never be gathered up into one of Mrs. Weasley’s bone-crushing hugs? Could he ever explain things to Ginny?

Harry’s eyes burned again. He shoved the thoughts back, unable to think straight. With monumental effort, he turned back to Kreacher, who was patiently standing at the ready. The elf seemed to understand what Harry was thinking, but did not bring attention to the fresh tears streaming down his Master’s face.

“Still trying to figure that out, Kreacher,” he said with a sniffle. “What do you think about Neville’s place?”

The old elf looked thoughtful. “Longbottom Manor is an old, pureblood home. There are many protections, and Kreacher will not be able to gain entry. But it would be a safer place than most.”

“That figures. I’ve still got my communication coin from the DA. I don’t want to give away the plan to everyone with a coin until right before I leave, just in case,” he turned the coin over and back in his hand. Hermione’s superior spellwork on the Protean Charm was intact, even now that she was… “I’ll send out a call for members of the DA to check in. Maybe that will give us a better idea of options.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/42198018

[feathersontheclyde]

After the words came out of his mouth he immediately regretted them. He just wanted to help but now he fears he may insulted her. Shes a passionate person. Hell he can relate he spends every night in the books hoping to perfect his craft.

He chuckles nervously. " Sorry and you don't look too tired don't worry. Not to the naked eye. I just noticed how hard you've been working and if I can help I want to. " He's happy she says yes but the mention of Pansy turns the top of his ears red.

" Pansy ? What do you mean ? What do you wish to know ? "

❧ Random / Discussed Asks ☙

➤ @gcldenmemories asked: " I hope you don't mind my unsolicited opinion but you've been looking a little low the last few days. It's expected .. you're such a hard worker. Perhaps you'll join me for tea and pastries ? I have an herbal mixture that could leave the dead revitalized. " he laughs. " sorry was that too morbid ?! " - neville sksjsjdj

   Hermione blinked at him for a moment. She looked low? Well, probably, she works a bit too hard when it came to her career as a healer, always wanting to provide the best possible care for all of her patients. Maybe that's why she looked tired. All those late shifts, no time for much of anything else. And yes, she'd had the lecture from both Harry, Ron and Ginny, but her work... it just meant so much to her.

   ❝Do I really look so tired?❞ She asked, her brow slightly raising. Neville was a bright wizard, but he could probably see the faint bags under her eyes, ❝Suppose I can't argue with you, can I? Even if that was a bit morbid.❞ She mused, a smirk appearing on her lips, ❝Alright, Neville. Tea and pastries it is. But,❞ always a but, ❝if I agree, you have to tell me about Pansy.❞ Hermione Granger, forever the observant.

[user230507021118079]

Never Alone - Ch. 77

summary: "𝘐𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐'𝘷𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘮𝘺 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘏𝘰𝘨𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴, 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺. 𝘉𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘪𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘯𝘰𝘳 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦. 𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴…𝘐 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦."

𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙝𝙚 𝙣𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙚𝙙 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙜𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙝𝙞𝙢 𝙖 𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙞𝙘𝙚…

*the only characters I own are Ciara, her family, and Jade. all other rights go to she-who-should-not-be-named

blog masterlist || previous chapter || ch. 78

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Ciara stumbled down the staircase, trailing behind Neville, Seamus, and Ginny who were following Professor McGonagall as she led some of the other adults outside. 

“Let me get this straight, Professor” Neville exclaimed, “You’re giving us permission to do this?”

“That is correct, Longbottom” McGonagall replied without even turning around to face him. 

“To blow it up?” he asked, “Boom?”

“Boom!” the professor confirmed.

“Wicked” Neville said with a smile. 

“How exactly do you propose we do this, Professor?” Ciara piped up, climbing down the rest of the stairs herself. 

“Why don’t you confer with Mr. Finnegan.” she suggested, “As I recall, he has a particular proclivity for pyrotechnics.” 

Ciara glanced over at Seamus who stood to her right. The smile that was growing on his face was almost scary. 

“I can bring ‘er down.” he said with confidence. 

“That’s the spirit. Now off you go.” she ordered. 

The four of them took off for their destination; the farthest bridge that connected Hogwarts to the Dark Forest. 

As they approached the bridge, a sudden spark of light caught her attention. She glanced back over her shoulder. 

“Woah” she exclaimed. Causing the rest of them to turn around as well. 

Slowly rising from the ground, a wall of golden magic was growing to cover the castle in its entirety. Below it, now stood a line of stone statues marching to take positions around the perimeter. 

“As pretty as it is, doubt that’s gonna hold for too long” Seamus said honestly. 

Ciara nodded in agreement, 

“All the more reason to blow this bridge to hell” she said, and the group continued their jog. 

In the distance, just outside the line of the forest, Ciara could see a large crowd of dark-cloaked shapes. There were too many of them for her mind to comprehend. 

Explosions suddenly sounded from above them. The group of them jumped slightly, looking up. They watched as tendrils of smoke bounced off of the shield, which shook dangerously, but it still held for the moment. 

As more shots rained down, the doors suddenly burst open ahead of them, depositing the Weasley twins in their path. 

The two of them wore matching, crazed smiles. 

“Nice night for it!” George called out to the group of students as they passed them by. 

Ciara quickly spun on her heels, cupping a hand to the corner of her mouth, 

“Hey Weasleys!” she shouted, getting their attention. They looked back at her expectantly. “If we make it through this, I swear I’m visiting that shoddy joke shop of yours!”

They both beamed, beginning to jog backwards. 

“We’ll hold you to that Slytherin!” Fred shouted back at her before both he and his brother turned, taking off back towards the main courtyard. 

Ciara dared to smile, before turning around and sprinting to catch up with the rest of the DA. 

By the time they had finished laying the charges, a large crowd of Snatchers had appeared at the other end of the bridge. They continuously pounded against the waning shield, their shouts still echoing into the air. Continuous blasts of energy still hit the protective magic relentlessly, and Ciara couldn’t see it holding for much longer. She just hoped that they could get the bridge down in time. Neville stood guard at the other end, facing the Snatchers head on. One snatcher had tried to run forward at the shield but was incinerated upon impact. The rest of them scrambled backwards in fear a bit. 

“Ha! Ha!” the group at the opposite end of the bridge heard Neville exclaim giddily. “Yeah! You and whose army!” he said cockily. 

Of course, it was in that moment that a particularly large explosion rocked the grounds.

Ciara looked back towards the castle, eyes widening as she watched the shield wobble dangerously one last time before suddenly fading into the night air. 

“Oh no” she whispered. 

She turned around, staring at Neville’s back. In front of him, she watched as one of the Snatcher’s reached his hand forward. Then, dared to take one tentative step, crossing the line that the barrier once stood on. When he didn’t explode, a sick smile rose on his face. 

“Neville!” Ciara screamed. 

The boy turned and sprinted back over the bridge, behind him a stream of Snatchers hot on his tail. Outside, shots of spells rained down on the now unguarded castle. In front of them Neville desperately fired curses back at the crowd that was closing in on him at a terrifyingly high speed. 

Finally, he passed the center-most part of the bridge, and he quickly shot a spark out of the wand, hitting the main charge that lay on the wall. Ciara watched anxiously as the spark traveled down the wires to the pounds of explosives that lay in waiting underneath the bridge itself. 

The first section of the bridge exploded in glorious fashion, taking a great many Snatchers with it, sending them plummeting into the deep ravine below. The remaining ones on the bridge were forced to pick up the pace as section after section of the bridge exploded one after another. Neville was still running with all his might, and was nearly to the other end, just ahead of the explosions themselves. The main Snatcher was still practically biting at his heels, however. The two of them were barreling fast towards them when the last section blew, sending the rest of the Snatchers falling into oblivion. 

The group of them looked up, but their smiles of victory instantly faded. 

Neville was nowhere to be seen. 

Behind her, Ginny gasped, alarmed. Seamus stood frozen. The group of them stood there in silence, unsure of what exactly to do. 

It felt like hours before suddenly, hand slammed onto the wooden planks at the group's feet. Neville’s soot-covered face followed shortly after. 

“That went well” he said, smiling painfully. 

“Told yeh I’d bring ‘er down” Seamus said proudly. 

Ciara moved forward, helping hoist Neville onto his feet. He brushed some of the ashes off of his clothes before looking up with a smile. 

“What?” Ginny asked. 

“That was kind of exciting.” he admitted. 

Seamus broke out into another wicked grin, and Ginny just shook her head. 

“Mad. The both of you.” she muttered.

Suddenly, the ground at their feet rumbled. Ciara reached out her hand to keep Neville from falling into the ravine for good this time. The four of them looked out into the distance, honing in on the main courtyard, which had since become the main battle ground. 

They watched with wide eyes as a new danger began clambering through the grounds. 

“Not good” Neville muttered.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

blog masterlist || previous chapter || ch. 78

[kilmongers]

NEVILLE LONGBOTTOM in THE GOBLET OF FIRE.

[pottermetaarchive]

Ah, no, I don’t believe it … I’ve lost my wand!”

Goblet of Fire, Ch. 9

I’m honestly surprised this doesn’t happen more often in the wizarding world. We’ll see a lot of them change hands in Book 7 when they start being stolen, but no one, not even Neville, not even tiny little first-years who aren’t used to carrying them around, seems to have any difficulty with wand misplacement. I’m quite sure I would lose the thing within a week.