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skampi835 · 2 years ago

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Serpent’s Lullaby - 02 - Traveling without Floo Powder

Fandom: Hogwarts Legacy

Language: english

Genre: Romantic Drama

Style within this chapter: humor, hurt & comfort

Warnings: spoiler, mention of eating disorder and loss

Word Count within this chapter: 5.730

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Link to Ao3

Link to fanfiktion.de (original german version)

If there was anyone in the wizarding community who had no idea how cumbersome traveling was before Floo Powder, it was Ignatia Wildsmith, the inventor of Floo Powder in the 13th century, herself. Or at least her enchanted bust, which perched on the mantle above the fireplace in the Leaky Cauldron and never missed an opportunity to point it out without being asked.

Carol Roswell pondered this as she stood at the King's Cross station, observing the gradual, abstract merging of Muggles and wizards. She had heard Ignatia's remarks about the benefits of traveling with Floo Powder repeatedly over the last few days.

About three days ago, Carol traveled from her home in Worcester to the London pub, which served as a connection between the Muggle and wizarding worlds, with the help of the convenient means of transportation. To do so, she had to find a fireplace that was officially connected to the Floo Network by the Department of Magical Transportation. Fortunately, a student in the same year, Duncan Hobhouse, lived nearby Worcester and had readily offered to let her use his family's fireplace.

It was his way of thanking Carol, for giving him the leaf of a giant Venemous Tentacula in their last school year. The leaf helped Duncan shed his reputation as a scaredy-cat and the almost affectionate nickname ‘Duncuff Snugglepuff' by showing off the plant to his Ravenclaw classmates. Carol seized the opportunity and gratefully accepted his offer, thus saving herself at least a three-hour journey to London.

Her early arrival before the start of term was due to her school supplies shopping list, which had just arrived via a beautiful Barn Owl at the Roswell farm. After emerging from the fireplace in the Leaky Cauldron covered in soot and hearing Ignatia's sing-song »Hello! How lovely to see you!« greeting, she rented a room there for the remaining days.

In Diagon Alley, which she knew about thanks to her former mentor, she proceeded to purchase all the books and other supplies she would need for her sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

For the rest of her days, Carol used a quiet corner of the Leaky Cauldron to prepare for her upcoming school year and to review the material from the previous year, at least theoretically.

Carol Roswell had an unique start to her first year at Hogwarts had two main factors. Firstly, she received her letter for enrollment at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry five years late, meaning she began her magical education not in her first year but in her fifth. On the other hand, it was the circumstances of how she reached Hogwarts last year that still sparked conversations among the students months later. Starting with a flying carriage attacked by a dragon, then a Portkey that ended up on a remote cliff in the sea, passing by Gringotts Wizarding Bank, between magical armors and goblins, and finally through a portal to the grounds of Hogwarts.

Yes, it was confusing, and that was just the first day of a very long year.

That's why Carol has decided for this school year to attract as little attention as possible and, above all, to get rid of the label 'newcomer who needs additional special lessons.’ So while she studied books and parchment rolls in a quiet corner of the pub, the enchanted bust of Ignatia Wildsmith took every opportunity to loudly point out to anyone who tumbled in and out of her fireplace that traveling with Floo powder broadened one's horizons, among other things.

However, obviously no one has told her about the changes brought by the incoming industrialization in England, or Ignatia vehemently ignored it. Because the Hogwarts Express was a very vivid example if one no longer had an idea of how inconvenient traveling was before Floo powder and needed a refresher.

The secret station behind a magical barrier between platforms nine and ten at King's Cross was, in contrast to the invention of Floo powder, a relatively young addition to the world of magic. The railway line stretched from London directly to the Scottish wizarding village of Hogsmeade and from there, it was almost just a stone's throw to Hogwarts Castle, with no stops in between.

Her former mentor, Professor Fig, once told her with growing enthusiasm about the beautiful steam train winding through the valleys. He also occasionally shared a story from his early years as a wizard, which Carol remembered as very humorous. The idea of now being able to have a cohesive experience that had nothing to do with ancient magic strengthened Carol's resolve to travel on the Hogwarts Express itself.

It was admittedly a rather sentimental decision, but it also stemmed from the desire to lead a completely normal life as a witch. Although 'normal' was, admittedly, as flexible a term as the use of Burbotuber Pus in the wizarding world.

And unfortunately, as the morning progressed, it was also a decision that Carol slowly began to regret.

She could have listened to Ignatia Wildsmith's »You can't even imagine how inconvenient traveling was before Floo powder!« once again that morning, after paying for and leaving her room at the Leaky Cauldron and then used Floo powder to travel directly to Fieldcroft or even easier, directly to Hogsmeade.

Instead, Carol, true to the reputation of her house, had obtained a small trolley in conscientious preparation. It was a practical invention of industrialization, which allowed Muggles to transport smaller loads over short distances.

She strapped her oversized and hundredweight travel trunk onto it, held her much more manageable suitcase under her arm, and set off on the morning of September 1st to reach King's Cross station, walking through half of the London city center. Needless to say, the little cart, under the immense weight of the above-average amount of luggage, shook uncontrollably on the way and tipped over to the side several times.

The curious eyes of passers-by, mostly Muggles, turned to her twice, all due to her sentimental decision.

Now that Carol had finally reached the station, she allowed herself a moment to catch her breath and observed curiously. She watched smaller groups of families, some dressed very inappropriately for Muggle society, making their way to King's Cross. She noticed that the contents of their large travel trunks were either non-existent or had been made very light by magic with a levitation spell.

Proof of this was a little chubby boy, no more than in his second year of school, dragging a travel trunk nearly twice his size behind him through the station at an astonishing speed. He was accompanied by a man, probably his father, dressed in a very conspicuous purple cloak with a golden hem.

This father loved his child and didn't seem to want to hide his pride that he was a Gryffindor.

Carol also recognized a wrinkled old lady hunched over on a crutch, walking up and down the platforms without a real purpose. She also talked noticeably often with the most ordinary people who could visit King's Cross that day.

The conversation seemed to have the same outcome every time, as Carol noticed, amused and puzzled at the same time.

For example, now, a neat middle-aged man rushed across the platform, clutching a folded newspaper under his arm, very certain of his destination. But as soon as he had a conversation with the older lady with the crutch, who simply spoke to him out of the blue, he seemed to have a change of heart, turned around, and changed platforms.

Carol's gaze settled on an obvious wizarding family, bringing several travel trunks towards the platform between nine and ten. They were not approached by the older lady with the crutch.

They hugged, exchanged exuberant greetings, and even shed a few tears with the mother before the children and luggage disappeared almost unnoticed behind the massive brick wall. Just like that.

As her nerves began to rise, Carol licked her dry lips. She had no idea if it was really as easy as it looked. But backing out now and transporting her trunk all the way back to the Leaky Cauldron to travel with Floo powder would feel like failure. Moreover, Carol was pretty sure that Ignatia Wildsmith would have had something to say about it.

During her fifth year at Hogwarts, Carol had dealt with some of the most unusual and sometimes dangerous creatures that the magical world could offer. So she wouldn't back down now in front of a magical barrier!

Encouraging herself in her mind, she took a deep breath and squatted down to grab the handle of the cart, which lay flat on the ground under her trunk.

»Carol?«

Surprised, she looked around and couldn't spot anyone specific in the crowded train station at first. Until her gaze landed on Poppy Sweeting, who in turn stared at her with an unusually skeptical look.

Immediately, Carol let her gaze fall on herself to check her appearance. Her dark brown coat was clean, she couldn't see any stains on the pearl white blouse underneath. The black skirt hadn't ridden up above her knees and the knee-high stockings hadn't slipped down.

But before Carol could ask what was bothering Poppy about her appearance, her friend enveloped her in a hearty embrace. »It's so good to see you, Carol! I thought we wouldn't see each other until Hogwarts again.«

Carol smiled, relieved that she had once again thought too much about nothing, and returned her friend's short, warm hug. »It's good to see you too, Poppy. I thought I'd like to take the Hogwarts Express this year,« she explained with a smile.

»So like a normal witch?« Poppy asked, grinning, causing Carol to smirk. Poppy had no idea how much she wished to be normal. Fortunately, Poppy didn't dwell on the detail and asked directly, »How are you? How was your summer?«

»Nice,« Carol replied briefly. »And I'm doing well. The time was very grounded, without any poacher incidents or dragons.«

Poppy herself now grinned a little embarrassed as an older woman with sun-kissed skin and two men in tow approached. »Poppy, my dear. Who is this?« she asked, scrutinizing Carol with her doe-like brown eyes. Meanwhile, one of the men, with a very wrinkled face but an extraordinarily well-groomed full beard, placed a large traveling trunk next to him. On top of it was a transport cage with a gray cat, who uneasily surveyed the crowded train station with her wide-open, amber-colored eyes.

As he straightened up and exchanged a glance with the much younger man beside him, Carol noticed that he was missing his left ear.

»That's Carol, Grandma. I've told you about her,« explained Poppy cheerfully, looking over her shoulder at the woman whose greying black hair was tied neatly in a knot. Her eyebrows briefly raised, and her serious expression transformed into interest.

»Good day. My name is Carol Roswell. It's a pleasure to meet you,« Carol introduced herself politely once again.

»The pleasure is all mine, after hearing so much about you and your shared discovery from Poppy, Miss Roswell. Eglantine Hobbs,« Mrs Hobbs introduced herself, nodding her head kindly. »This is Walton Kolman, a long-time friend and colleague of mine,« she continued, gesturing in a fluid motion towards the older man with the missing ear.

Kolman nodded briefly at Carol and pulled out a pipe from inside his pinstripe suit. »Good day,« he grunted shortly, while the younger man, wearing a chestnut brown beret that matched his outfit, looked almost nervously from Kolman to Mrs Hobbs. »And this is Alan Trent, he's new in our team.«

As if Alan had been waiting for this moment to be introduced, he held out his hand to Carol with a slightly pitiful smile. »For almost two years,« he added meekly, but then exclaimed excitedly, »It's really nice to meet you, Miss Roswell. Your and Miss Sweeting's discovery about the Snidgets has got our whole department all worked up!«

Alan received a smack on the back of his head from Kolman, causing his beret to slip slightly over his forehead. »Quiet,« Kolman grumbled harshly.

Mrs. Hobbs obviously refrained from rolling her eyes, or at least from sighing. »I think you should go over the clause on the confidentiality of magical creatures in your contract again, Alan,« she said sternly.

»Poppy has already told me a bit about you, Mrs. Hobbs. But may I ask where exactly you work?« Carol asked, directing the attention away from Alan, who was rubbing the back of his head awkwardly and straightening his beret.

»We're in the field department of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures at the Ministry of Magic,« Mrs. Hobbs explained. »In the Beast Division, to be precise.«

Carol nodded gently. »I see. That's why the excitement.« She avoided saying the word 'Snidget' again. Although she didn't think Kolman would give her a smack on the back of the head, she didn't want to take any chances.

»Actually, Walton and I were going to pick up Eglantine this morning. But when she said she was still taking her granddaughter to the station, we thought we'd just come along,« Alan explained in a lively tone.

»It's just easier.« Kolman added, packing tobacco into his pipe.

»Easier?« Carol raised her eyebrows inquisitively. ��Why?«

»Grandma will continue on to Greece with Walton and Alan afterwards,« Poppy explained, with a dreamy smile on her lips. «They're doing field research to study the habitats of hippocampi more closely.«

»And to study their breeding behavior in more detail,« Alan added enthusiastically, beaming from ear to ear. »Since they mostly inhabit the Mediterranean, we need to make sure their breeding sites are protected from Muggle eyes. And while we're in Greece, we might even come across a Chimera or even a Manticore? I would be the- Ouch!«

»Let's hope we don't catch sight of any of those beasts,« Kolman growled, after giving Alan another light slap on the back of the head to interrupt the enthusiastic outburst. »Way too motivated, that lad,« he muttered, shaking his head and puffing on his pipe.

»At least I'm not a sourpuss,« Alan mumbled, straightening his beret and taking a generous step away from Kolman, just in case.

Mrs. Hobbs glanced at the large clock face that loomed over King's Cross Station. »We really should take you to the platform now. It's almost eleven o'clock,« she said. »Alan, could you please help Miss Roswell with her luggage?«

»Sure thing,« Alan grinned, stepping towards Carol's trunk, while Kolman leaned down to pick up Poppy's luggage again. The cage with the gray cat inside wobbled as he did, and the cat meowed indignantly.

Alan leaned forward and paused over the luggage cart, which was wedged under the travel trunk. »How practical,« he said with fascination and lifted the cart by its handle, which took him two attempts. »Uff, it's... really heavy!«

Carol smiled sheepishly. »Sorry. Unfortunately, I don't know anyone who could have made it lighter for me.«

»And you've been carrying this around London? A young lady shouldn't be hauling something so heavy,« huffed Alan, reaching into his vest pocket. With his wand still partially concealed behind the fabric, he discreetly aimed it at the travel trunk and quietly said, »Wingardium Leviosa.«

The trunk lifted only a few millimeters from the ground, almost imperceptibly. Alan satisfiedly put his wand back in his waistcoat pocket. »Well then, shall we?« he asked with a mischievous grin.

The small group started to move along the platform between tracks nine and ten. »Is something wrong, Carol?« Poppy suddenly asked.

Carol hadn't realized that her rising nerves were showing on her face. She briefly pressed her lips together before looking at Poppy with an embarrassed smile. »Honestly, I have no idea how to get through the magical barrier. This is my first trip on the Hogwarts Express. Do you have to tap certain stones or something?«

»Oh dear, you mean like in Diagon Alley?« Alan asked with a broad grin, laughing softly. »Hey, Walton, just imagine all the first years desperately standing in front of the brick wall because they forgot the sequence.« This thought seemed to amuse Kolman's furrowed face, which was still puffing on his pipe.

Mrs Hobbs looked at Carol a little surprised, then seemed to have a realization. »Ah, Poppy told me that you started just last year,« she spoke out loud. »And due to the special circumstances, you were surely accompanied by a teacher, right?«

Carol was very glad that Poppy apparently hadn't told her grandmother about the hair-raising stories that had been on everyone's lips last year. Or Mrs Hobbs had enough tact not to mention it. »Yes, that's correct, Mrs Hobbs,« she confirmed and gladly took the cue.

»With this barrier, there is no special trick. You just have to walk through quickly, my dear,« Mrs Hobbs explained with a soft undertone. »If you get scared, just close your eyes.«

»And if the trunk gets heavy again, you'll know you've made it through,« Alan added cheerfully. »Once you go through the barrier, all spells will fall off. But on the other side, someone from the Ministry should be there to help both of you with your luggage.«

Arriving at the back of the platform, Mrs Hobbs warmly embraced Poppy and wished her a good trip and a magical time at Hogwarts. Good travel wishes were exchanged with all participants in general, as Mrs Hobbs, Kolman, and Alan would also continue their journey.

After Poppy disappeared into the brick wall in the middle of the platform with her luggage, Carol mentally prepared herself. Unfortunately, even Mrs Hobbs' encouraging words were of little help when you were about to run into a massive wall. Therefore, Carol closed her eyes just before the impact.

Fortunately, the impact did not happen. However, not a second after she passed through the barrier, she was almost pulled back by the weight of her heavy travel trunk. The axis of the small trolley groaned pitifully with the effort.

Blinking, Carol looked around and saw a modern, large steam engine already at the platform. In golden letters, 'Hogwarts Express' was written on the red-painted side of the black locomotive, which huffed thick smoke into the air.

A sign on the wall read 'Platform 9¾'. Some students were still milling about on the platform, checking their trunks onto the luggage carts, chatting animatedly, or maneuvering small suitcases or cages with owls, cats, or other pets through the wagon entrances.

A narrow, nostalgic smile spread across Carol's lips. Somehow, this sight finally confirmed to her that it had been worth the effort to travel on the Hogwarts Express. Even though Floo powder would have been much more practical, one could gladly do without the dizzying sensation during and the subsequent dirt and soot on their clothes. In return, she got to see the beautiful locomotive resting in the station, which seemed almost picturesque to her.

Carol wondered if Professor Fig had stood right here many years ago and maybe thought the same thing. The thought of it was comforting.

Meanwhile, Poppy had already caught the attention of a wizard with a wave, who levitated her luggage. Walking briskly, he approached Carol with his wand raised, looking slightly stressed. »May I?« he asked surprisingly politely, waving and brandishing his wand.

The trunk became feather-light once again. »You should hurry, we're leaving in ten minutes,« the wizard explained before turning to help other students.

Together with Poppy, Carol brought the bulky luggage to the backmost wagon, where it was loaded and stowed. Poppy took the transport cage with the grey cat. »I was going to ask earlier,« Carol began while boarding the train with her small suitcase. »Is that your cat, Poppy?«

Poppy beamed. »Yes,« she said proudly, carefully lifting the cage. The grey cat now lay in the cage with its fur standing on end and ears laid back, its amber eyes wide open. The journey was possibly a little too hectic for her. »Grandma bought her for me and said she would take care of me. I guess it was because of the dragon last year. When I told her about it, Grandma was beside herself. Her name is Bluebell.«

Carol could well imagine how Mrs. Hobbs must have reacted when Poppy enthusiastically told her that she had returned a Black Hebridean's egg. However, she did not want to talk too much about her adventures with Poppy from last year in the overcrowded wagon. Therefore, Carol smiled and said, »Bluebell? A beautiful name,« as she squeezed through the first jam-packed wagon.

Poppy followed her with the cage through the narrow aisle that continued through the carriages. Carol looked into the compartments to find two empty seats for themselves. However, at one compartment where there was still space, Carol hurried past it as she recognized Slytherins, including Imelda Reyes and Nerida Roberts, inside.

It wasn't that she couldn't stand Slytherins in general. Carol was generally indifferent to the rivalry between houses. However, she didn't feel the need to voluntarily endure a several-hour train ride with Imelda and Nerida's Quidditch fanaticism. To be frank, they weren't exactly the best of friends either.

The loud whistle of the Hogwarts Express, to herd the last students into the carriages, could be heard above their heads.

Continuing her unsuccessful search two carriages away, Carol felt Poppy's hand on her shoulder. She turned her head to her friend, who looked at her shyly. »Are you really okay?« Poppy asked with a concerned look. The same look she gave Carol at the station.

Surprised, Carol raised her eyebrows and then smiled reassuringly, »Of course. Why wouldn't I?« she asked friendly, pushing herself further down the aisle, hoping that Poppy wouldn't ask any further.

»Because you've lost a lot of weight, Carol,« Poppy spoke with an unusually serious tone, and Carol suspected that her friend had to gather all her courage to make such an honest statement.

She pressed her lips together and stubbornly continued walking. Direct confrontation wasn't usually one of Poppy Sweeting's strengths, but that had obviously changed over the summer holidays.

»Carol?« Poppy cautiously asked again when Carol didn't answer.

Carol let out a quiet sigh, knowing that she couldn't just brush it off. She forced herself to smile, but it came off as bitter. »Yes, that's unfortunately hard to miss,« she had to reluctantly agree. Carol knew that her weight loss was visibly apparent and also knew where it came from. However, she had hoped that her traveling cloak would conceal it better.

»The financial situation of my family's farm is not good. A lot of agricultural land, including surrounding pasture fields, has been bought up to build factories and plants on them. Additionally, the local aristocracy is trying to blackmail my father into giving up the farm,« Carol explained.

Poppy had probably expected some problems, but certainly not this. »What? That's terrible!« she exclaimed in shock.

»Yes, although my father is not willing to give in to the blackmail attempts, our livelihood depends on the farm. The pressure has been getting stronger over the past few weeks. I keep thinking about home and hoping things don't get worse while I'm away,« Carol continued. »During the summer, I helped my father on the farm as much as I could. I also worked at a pub in the evenings to earn money for school supplies. It wasn't a relaxing summer for me, Poppy, but the work kept me distracted from everything that happened last year. My father always says, 'Idle hands are the devil's workshop’.«

»I understand,« Poppy sighed and let her shoulders slump. She looked sadly at Carol. »But why did you say you were doing well? We're friends, aren't we?«

Carol stopped and turned to face Poppy. It was strange that she only just noticed that Poppy had the same doe-like brown eyes as her grandmother. Just then, the Hogwarts Express began to jerk and move slowly out of the station.

For a brief moment, Carol's features reflected the struggles of the past weeks, no, the struggles of the entire last year. Nevertheless, she smiled softly, albeit wearily. »Of course we are, Poppy. You have become a really dear friend to me. To be honest, I don't even know how I'm doing. Last year was...just a lot. Professor Fig's death hit me harder than I care to admit.«

Her friend looked at her sympathetically. She still had her shoulders slumped in uncertainty. »And I'm such a silly gnome that I didn't notice how much it affects you,« Poppy sighed sadly. »I'm so sorry I reminded you of it.«

Carol shook her head. »Don't be sorry, Poppy. I know you're just worried about me. I'm sorry you have to worry. I thought it wasn't that bad.« Carol turned around to continue looking out the compartment windows.

Poppy followed her, still with a small, thick, black cloud of gloom hanging over her head. »Cheer up, Poppy. I'm glad you told me how obvious it is. Most people wouldn't do that out of politeness. At least now I know I have to do something,« Carol tried to cheer her up.

The small, thick cloud seemed to slowly lighten and dissipate.

»You really do miss Professor Fig that much, right?« asked Poppy attentively, but also cautiously. Carol's stomach tightened, but her mouth twitched slightly upwards without reaching her eyes. »Yes. He was my mentor and showed me this amazing world. If he hadn't shown up at my house with my Hogwarts letter last year, that cursed owl would have surely gotten lost three more times.«

Although Carol spoke with a humorous undertone, she secretly wondered if Professor Fig would still be alive if she hadn't been involved...

The door of a compartment in front of them was opened and Charlotte Morrison stepped out into the aisle. Fortunately, her sudden appearance saved Carol from further heavy thoughts.

»Oh, hello Carol, hello Poppy,« she greeted the two girls with a smug and proud smile. Charlotte's dark, frizzy hair was, as often, tied back with a wide headband, and for some reason, she was already wearing her school cloak, which shone in the yellow colors of the Hufflepuffs.

Wait a minute... shone?

Carol frowned and, on closer inspection, recognized the shimmering yellow-and-black badge on the school cloak, which was marked with a large 'P'.

»You've become a prefect? Congratulations, Charlotte,« Poppy chirped happily behind Carol in the aisle.

»Thank you,« the proud prefect almost condescendingly accepted the flowers. »I have to go to another compartment, specifically for prefects and head students. We get all the important information related to the position there. If you two are still looking for a place, I think you can very well take a seat in here.«

Charlotte gestured towards the open compartment she had just left. Carol craned her neck and immediately recognized Lenora Everleigh and Arthur Plumly, who were also Hufflepuffs, and Duncan Hobhouse.

»Hey, we meet again so soon,« the dark-haired Ravenclaw greeted Carol with a broad grin, patting invitingly on the seat beside him.

»Charlotte's right. Come on in, there's plenty of room. Hello Poppy,« Arthur waved and smiled broadly at the girls.

»As I can see, you're taken care of. So, see you later,« Charlotte said goodbye and turned on her heel.

»Bring me some of that delicious cauldron cake from the prefects' carriage!« Lenora called after her, receiving only a laughing »Maybe!« in response from the new prefect.

Carol pushed herself into the compartment with Poppy. She properly stowed her suitcase under her seat and sat down next to Duncan, who sat across from Lenora by the window.

»That's such a cute cat. What's her name?« Arthur gushed, adjusting his glasses on his nose as he spotted Poppy's new friend, who stared sullenly out of the cage. He charismatically provided a perfect conversation topic for Poppy.

»Her name is Bluebell,« she smiled brightly and confidently took a seat beside Arthur. She placed the cage between them, giving him a very good view of the presumably annoying grey cat.

Carol couldn't help but smile contentedly. Last year, she had told Poppy that she should spend more time with people and not just animals, and apparently, her friend had taken those words to heart. It was nice to see the animal-loving Hufflepuff flourish.

Overall, Carol had to admit that all of her classmates had changed a lot physically over the summer. The boys had obviously had a tremendous growth spurt, and most of the girls had acquired feminine curves. And it was particularly noticeable in Lenora.

Lenora Everleigh did not stand out for her extraordinary beauty. Last year, she appeared chubby, awkward, and, above all, she had a bit of a snappy attitude. But now, she no longer looked chubby at all as she conversed deeply with Duncan. Lenora had become a buxom beauty, which even made Carol a little jealous.

One could tell that they were now sixteen years old. At seventeen, they were considered adults in the wizarding world and would be allowed to use magic outside of Hogwarts.

While Poppy and Arthur fussed over Bluebell, Carol turned to Duncan and Lenora to start her own conversation thread. »So, how was your summer?«

»Fantastic! My parents and I were in France for three weeks,« Lenora enthused. »I made so many discoveries! Of course, Paris itself is also very beautiful, especially with that tower. But so many secrets are hidden in the middle of the city and right in front of the Muggles' eyes! At every street corner, you can find something that Muggles can't make sense of and just walk past! I accidentally stumbled into the French Ministry of Magic!«

»Sure, by accident,« Duncan grinned broadly. Lenora's love for puzzles and secrets was no secret. »Did you happen to pay a visit to Beauxbatons as well?« he asked, continuing his curious line of questioning, which Lenora confirmed with a generous nod of her head.

»Oh yes! That school is a real palace from the outside!« she gushed, using her arms to emphasize her excitement. »I would have loved to get closer, but because of the many protective spells, we couldn't even get close to the outer school gate.«

Carol smiled slightly. Unfortunately, it often happened that her classmates talked about something and she couldn't keep up. It annoyed her to constantly have to ask about something, which is why she often held back until the conversation changed.

She briefly glanced at the others. However, it would have been rude to join in the middle of Arthur and Poppy's lively exchange about the fluffy paws of cats.

The compartment door opened and an orange-haired curly head with a broad grin framed by numerous freckles on the face slid in. »Hey there, hey there! Well, if these aren't my favorite Hufflepuffs all in one place!«

Garreth Weasley closed the compartment door behind him and plopped down in the last available seat next to Carol with a wide grin. »And Duncan,« he added with a cheeky grin, which earned him a skeptical glance from Duncan. »Did you get lost, Weasley?« the Ravenclaw asked.

»By no means, my dear chap. I make it a point to go through almost every compartment where there isn't a Slytherin sitting to inquire about everyone's well-being.«

Even the always-friendly and open-minded Arthur pushed his glasses up his nose with a clearly skeptical expression at this statement. »You mean every compartment where girls are sitting?«

Garreth sucked in his breath sharply and dramatically patted his chest with his hand. »Now you're hurting my feelings, Arthur! What do you think of me?«

»I think what's true,« replied Duncan with a grin. Carol tried to stifle a laugh, which prompted Garreth to nudge her in the side. »Hey!« she laughed loudly and raised her arms protectively in front of her. »Mercy, I'm ticklish!«

»I can tell,« he replied with a charming smile. »I was looking forward to seeing you in particular. But what happened to you over the summer, Carol? You almost look like an Inferi.«

The statement hit Carol harder than she expected. But apparently not just her, as there was a brief and very awkward silence, in which only the constant rattling of the train could be heard. Duncan audibly slapped his hand against his forehead and groaned, »Oh, Weasley...«

»What?« Garreth asked with a furrowed brow and a questioning expression. »Can't you see it?«

»Galopping Gargoyles, Garreth! You could say that a little more kindly, without going overboard!« Poppy snapped and glared at the Gryffindor. Lenora followed up with a »Pretty tactless of you, Weasley,« as if he had insulted her directly.

Carol's face grew hot. She was aware that her body had changed due to her lack of appetite, but being compared to an Inferi was too much fun! It wasn't that bad!

»Ah, Lenora, sweetheart. I prefer girls with some meat on their bones anyway,« Garreth grinned cheekily and blew Everleigh an air kiss across the compartment. She caught it, pretended to eat it, and then spit it out.

Garreth made a face, seemingly becoming aware of his misbehavior.

»I thought you were traveling by Floo powder, Duncan,« Carol tried to cling to the first straw that came to mind to change the subject as quickly as possible.

Fortunately, the dark-haired Ravenclaw picked up on it after a brief moment. »Yes, that was my plan. But let's be real, all the soot and dirt and the nauseating feeling that you want to vomit your breakfast back up.« He rolled his eyes. »And besides, I remembered something on a Chocolate Frog card, and I think the witch is right.«

»Oh? Which witch?« Lenora asked, thankfully also on Carol's side. The unique Hufflepuff solidarity was unshakable, even when an individual sometimes couldn't help themselves. Hufflepuffs stuck together.

»Hmm,« Duncan shook his head as he thought, but then blurted out, »Oh, damn. What was the name of that witch who invented Floo powder?«

»Ignatia Wildsmith?« Carol blurted out, surprised, as if from a gun.

»Yes, exactly her!« Duncan pointed appreciatively and gratefully at Carol. »On her Chocolate Frog card it says, 'Travel broadens the mind.'«

___________________________

(I don’t know if the joke’s a thing in english, too.)

Yep, you've just spent almost a whole chapter talking about how inconvenient traveling was before the invention of Floo powder.

I hope you can forgive my literary joke about the 'most annoying character in the game' :)

#hogwarts legacy #fanfiction #ominis x oc #serpent's lullaby #ominis gaunt #carol roswell #poppy sweeting #charlotte morrison #arthur plummly #duncan hobhouse #lenora everleigh #ignatia wildsmith #garreth weasley

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murkyhazed-is-archiving · 2 years ago

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final tag drop hooray

#* &. albus dumbledore.#* &. minerva mcgonagall.#* &. molly weasley.#* &. tess servopoulos.#* &. abigail blyg.#* &. mariana garcia.#* &. mateo perez.#* &. taisa flores.#* &. veronica sterling.#* &. pandora parker.#* &. teeny bradbury.#* &. adelaine collins.#* &. charlotte jackson.#* &. hannah booker.#* &. emeline barnes.

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acourtcfmuses · 2 years ago

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#tag drop #🐚 [ dominique weasley ]#🐚 [ dominique fc chloe rose robertson ]#🐚 [ dominique musings ]#🐚 [ dominique headcanons ]#🦋 [ fleur delacour ]#🦋 [ fleur d. fc candice king ]#🦋 [ fleur d. headcanons ]#🦋 [ fleur d. musings ]#👑 [ king george iii ]#👑 [ george fc corey mylchreest ]#👑 [ george headcanons ]#👑 [ george musings ]#⚜️ [ queen charlotte ]#⚜️ [ queen charlotte fc india amarteifio ]#⚜️ [ queen charlotte headcanons ]#⚜️ [ queen charlotte musings ]

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lqveharrington · 19 days ago

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FRED WEASLEY AND ALL TOO WELL😭🫶 pleasee

All Too Well | F.W.

summary: your daughter gets curious about all the different parchment you had stored away.

pairing: fred weasley x fem!reader

includes: reader’s last name is Lupin, mainly fluff and angst, kissing, playful teasing, pregnancy, death, crying (this fic is practically as long as the song)

a/n: first fic of the 2k celebration! also, i cried everytime i came back to write this 😭 i miss him so much (rules for celebration here!)

It had been exactly eleven years since your beautiful baby girl Charlotte was born, Molly and Arthur Weasley's first grandchild. Born a pureblood, she would be going to Hogwarts this September and you couldn't be more proud. From all the stories Charlotte heard about your time at Hogwarts, she knew she would have the time of her life. Especially since all the stories were about you, her father, and her uncles. You would tell her all the stories of how the twins and Lee would set up pranks only to be scolded by McGonagall. Sometimes you had to scold them too.

You missed the days where you had no care in life except for your studies. You missed spending every single day with your favorite people and seeing them everyday. You missed everything Hogwarts had to offer before the war began.

But even after all the chaos it brought, your sweet girl was born. The only righteous matter to come out of the war.

"Mum, what's that?" Charlotte sat beside you on the couch and perched her head on your shoulder as she looked inside the box you brought out, beautiful red hair draping over your body.

Her gaze was drawn to the different sized parchment, each one having different drawings and dates. Charlotte picked one up and read the name, eyes widening at the signatures signed at the bottom. They were her father's and there were so many of them. "Whoa."

"What're you doing, creeper?" You laugh softly and pull her to sit in front of you, kissing the top of her head when she put the note back inside the box.

"What are all of those?” She gestured to the box and looked at you with curious eyes, fingers moving to touch the gold ring around your left hand; A habit she picked up from you whenever you felt the need to fidget. “Did dad send you all of those?”

You nod and clasp your hand around hers, feeling her pulse. "Yeah, he uhm,” You cleared your throat and blinked fast, ridding yourself of the tears that wanted to spill over. "He would write me one from the day we met until he… Your dad would even write me notes when I was just sitting next to him in class."

You pursed your lips and looked down, mind going through years and years of memories. Every time you received a new note, you wrote down the date to keep track of how long he had been doing it.

"There's so many..." Charlotte looked in awe and made out some of the dates, many of them dating back to when you were eleven. “He must have loved you a lot, mum. Especially since you kept all of them.”

You let out a chuckle, your hand reaching up to hold the gold ring adorning your necklace, thumb feeling the lettering inside. “Well, your dad was head over heels for me, Char.” You watched her pick up different parchment and smiled softly at how intrigued she was.

“Here, pick a couple and I'll tell you the stories behind them.” You hand her the box and watch her eyes light up before closing them and plucking out five pieces of parchment, handing them to you with glee.

Charlotte folded her arms over her knees, cheek resting against her arm. She watched your eyes water again at the notes she picked, making her bite her bottom lip. She didn’t want you to cry. She hated seeing you cry. Especially when it was over her father.

“Do you…” She started and met your eyes again, giving you a small smile in hopes of getting you to smile again. “Do you remember how you got all of them?”

"Of course, I do." You sent her a short grin and tucked pieces of her hair behind her ear, her brown eyes and red hair oh-so familiar to you. "I remember it all too well."

10/09/1993

“Weasley, you’re late to your own date.” You wave the parchment in his face and bite back a smile when he rolls his eyes and takes the note from you. “You said to meet you in the courtyard at exactly 3PM.”

Everyone had already left for Hogsmeade and you were left standing in the courtyard with the handmade scarf Mrs. Weasley made for you, the wind blowing it around. You weren’t actually upset with Fred, this happened more than once already, but he had time to serve with Filch whenever he pulled a stunt worse than usual.

“No, it says 3:30PM.” He tapped his wand on the parchment and sent you a lopsided grin, this time making you roll your eyes. “You look, Lupin.”

You took the note from his hands and read it out loud, giving him an exasperated look. He pulled you close by the waist, tilting his head down to meet your eyes. He loved the height difference you had with him, being a whole head shorter than him gave him lots of pun material.

“Wow, it says 3:30PM all of a sudden.” You tuck the parchment into your pocket and strain your neck to look at him. He still wore that smile you loved, making you push up on your toes to kiss him properly.

He grinned into the kiss and pressed his lips against yours multiple times until he was satisfied, adjusting the scarf you wore when he separated from you. You sigh softly and push locks of his red hair away from his eyes, meeting the beautiful brown eyes that you adored.

“Now did you actually leave on time? Or did you leave when Filch wasn’t looking?” You question him as you began the descent away from Hogwarts, careful to walk around the rocky terrain.

“I’m offended! Who do you think I am?” Fred laced his hand with yours and guided you safely around the trail to Hogsmeade, looking over yours clothes to insure you were dressed properly for the fall weather in Scotland. “Of course I left when Filch wasn’t looking.”

You smack his chest with the back of your hand and shake your head, not even a little surprised with the stunt he pulled. “Frederick Gideon Weasley.”

“What? I promised a date to the prettiest girl at Hogwarts.” He squeezed your hand before pulling you closer to him, looking around the area in confusion. “Speaking off, have you seen here? We were supposed to meet up at 3PM back at the courtyard.”

“I knew we were supposed to meet up a three, you prat!” You exclaim and smack him once more, making him laugh. He crookedly smiled, loving how you completely ignored his short jab to defend yourself about the right time you were supposed to meet.

Fred leaned down and pressed another kiss to your lips, effectively shutting you up. You let out a small noise before indulging him, placing a hand on his cheek before pulling away.

“That’s not fair.” You whisper to him, lips grazing his when you spoke. You peered down at his lips before back up to his eyes, smiling when you knew you got caught.

“Nothing’s ever fair, Lupin.” He murmured and smiled back at you, thumb softly tracing his initials into your covered hip.

You felt so much love from Fred — although it did take you years to finally agree to go on a date with him. Maybe it was to spite your dad when he began teaching at Hogwarts, but you truly loved Fred. You had known his family for far too long to ignore the heart that only beats for him.

12/25/1994

“Why is it we learned how to ballroom dance together only to ditch and sneak off to the kitchens?” You ask in a low voice, not wanting to break the calmness that fell over the both of you as you moved further and further away from the bustling Great Hall.

Your hands were laced behind your back as you walked beside Fred, letting the silence overtake after an overstimulating two hours at the Yule Ball. You weren’t even planning to go because you knew your social battery wouldn't be able to handle so many people in one room, but Fred convinced you to go with a simple heart-shaped piece of parchment.

“'Cause you needed a breather. I could see it in your eyes.” He nudged your shoulder gently before slipping his arm around your waist, letting you rest your head on his shoulder; The smell of lemon ginger cookies and firecrackers filling your senses from the suit jacket he wrapped around you earlier.

You smiled softly at his actions as he led you down toward the kitchens. He was everything you never knew you needed and it made your heart swell with so much love. You never wanted to leave his side.

Fred came to the conclusion that the elves loved you a lot more than him when you dismissed them with a bright smile. Whenever he and George visited during the midnight runs, they would always greet them. When you were with him and George, the elves would do anything you asked them to without any hesitation.

While you moved around the space to make a quick snack for the both of you, Fred simply admired you. He admired how beautiful you looked doing such a mundane task or how you would always click your heel whenever you were counting something. He was so in love that watching you just stand and cross your arms when the stove wasn't cooperating made he grin stupidly.

Before he realized what exactly he was doing, you sent him a confused look. "You haven't spoke in like—" You looked over to the wall clock, raising your brows in surprise. "Ten minutes. Are you okay?"

Fred hummed and pulled you to stand in front of him, his hands coming down to rest at the curve of your waist. “Can’t I admire how beautiful you look, Lupin?”

You squint your eyes at him and meet the brown eyes that have been staring at you for quite some time. Although he was bold most times, you saw how raw and genuine his words were.

“I mean, even without trying you just look,” Fred laced his hand with yours and slowly spun you around, breath catching when you faced him once more. He was so enamored with you — no spell was strong enough to break the enchantment. "Absolutely stunning."

You try hiding a smile that made its way onto your face, only settling into it when he moved to kiss your neck. You grasp the back of his shoulders and sigh softly, shutting your eyes briefly before he parted and smirked at your breathless look.

"I wanna marry you." Fred murmurs and thumbs your bottom lip, catching you give him your golden smile. "The only thing I want to do before I die is marry you."

You hum and rest your hands on his chest, fingers playing with his lapels. You wanted nothing more to marry the man in front of you. Every little thing he did was like painting a perfect picture, and you wanted to frame it forever and ever. He would be the only oath you were willing to take.

“Let’s dance for a little while.” He suggested as the muffled music coming from the Great Hall wandered into the kitchens, a slow song coming on at a perfect time. “There’s music and the candle light by the fridge.”

“Just us?" You ask almost like you needed the reassurance, watching him bow and take your hand like any waltz started. He clasped his hand with yours and began to take the calculated steps he learned only a few weeks ago.

“Just us.” He reassured you and snuck a kiss to your lips, earning an eye roll and lopsided grin.

Yeah, this was it for the both of you.

05/26/1996

Fred knew that you would be upset if you found out that him and George were planning on leaving Hogwarts without graduating. Especially since you were so keen on helping the both of them study for their N.E.W.T.S. He knew you wanted to graduate with him by your side, but what good would graduating from Hogwarts be if he and George had a plan that could be set in motion right now?

He was going to tell you a couple weeks ago, but you got so busy with studying for N.E.W.T.S. and ensuring you would get 'outstanding' in all subjects. So he decided to wait. Well, until you found the note he was planning to give you.

You were absolutely heartbroken. The entire day you wanted nothing to do with him, even sitting beside Angelina during potions just to avoid him. But he eventually found you sitting at the top of the astronomy tower, head resting on your knees and fingers playing with the gold necklace he got you the year before.

Guilt was eating Fred up from the inside out. Starting with his heart.

“Are you really leaving without graduating?” You murmured when you felt his body heat approach you, head still staring forward toward the forbidden forest.

Fred sighed and sat beside you, running his fingers through his hair. “The system isn’t working for us right now and—" Then he heard the sound that absolutely crushed him. He heard the hiccup that would soon become sobbing. "Lovey, what’s wrong?”

You were quick to bury your head in your arms. You knew Fred could read you like a book and anything you did now would trigger his different responses. When you sniffled, you knew it was game over.

“Okay, lovey, you're crying.” He pulled you around so that you were sitting in front of him and gently moved your arms away from your face, his own face falling at the way you look at him.

Your eyes were wet with tears, your lip was quivering, and it pained him to know he caused it. You wanted to tell him it wasn't his fault, but if you tried to speak, you would completely fall apart. Everything was stressing you out and the note just pushed you over the edge.

“You know I'll be at the station when you get back.” Fred murmured and tucked your hair behind your ears, listening to your uneven breaths. "I won't leave you forever."

You hiccup and turn your head, biting your bottom lip to help stabilize yourself. "I-I just thought we would have more t-time together before everything got s-so serious outside of Hogwarts."

Fred tilted his head and tried his best to meet your eyes, "But you know that's not the case, lovey. You'll be living with Georgie and I, and you know were aren't exactly the most serious people."

You let out a wet laugh and look down, fingers coming up to play with the infinity symbol on you necklace. Fred smiled softly at your laugh. At least he knew you weren't too terribly upset over the predicament.

“If I do w-well on my N.E.W.T.S, I'll be t-training full time as a h-healer.” You hiccup and trace the symbol over itself, still trying to calm down as best as you could. “And I know you two will run your business together most of the time. So I don't—”

“Lovey, look at me." Fred pleaded and lightly cupped your cheek, tilting your head so he could face you properly. "Nothing will ever come between you and me. You were in my past, currently living in my present, and you are indefinitely my future. You are my everything and I refuse to leave this spot until you give me that golden smile I love."

Your laugh softly and give him that golden smile, "I love you, Fred Weasley."

08/14/1997

Fred proposed to you a couple of months ago. It wasn’t anything too extravagant or crazy, but you definitely cried like a baby when he got down on one knee and revealed a gorgeous gold ring you swore cost more than how much the twins made a month. Flash forward, you were having a wedding at the Burrow surrounded by family and loved ones.

After vows were said and the most passionate kiss was exchanged, you and Fred were immediately separated. He was pulled to talk to family he didn't even know were family while you were stuck plastering a fake smile to Sirius and Remus who kept going on and on about how happy they were for you.

Eventually the both of you were able to get away, running away from your own reception like you would if you were still in Hogwarts. You laughed as you both made it to the edge of the forest, resting your head on his shoulder. Although you were both only nineteen, you knew that this would be forever.

“Do you think they'll realize the bride and groom are missing from their own wedding?” You let your laughter subside and following him wherever he was guiding you. Was it such a good idea to follow him blindly? Not really, but you trusted Fred. "Where are we going?"

“You’ll see.” He moved a hand to cover your eyes and helped you maneuver through the foliage.

It felt like an hour of just walking and constantly trying to peek through his hands until he stopped abruptly, causing you to stumble over your own heeled feet. He helped stabilize you before removing his hand, letting you look at the sight in front of you.

“Tada!”

The sight was drop dead gorgeous. Almost every single note he had ever wrote to you was floating around a cleared part of the forest, small wisps of light acting as your guide to each and every date. Your eyes were filled with tears as you went up to one of the earliest notes, the date going back to the first week of your first year at Hogwarts.

“When did you ever have the time to do this?” You murmured and looked around, hand coming up to play with your golden necklace, the same one he got you forever ago.

“I have six siblings, I can get them to do my bidding.” Fred shrugged and flicked his wand, the song from the Yule Ball playing in the background. From where you would never know. “Shall we dance, Mrs. Weasley?”

"We shall." You smile brightly and clasp your hands in his, letting him guide you through the same waltz. You squealed when he spun you around and fell into his arms, both of your gold rings flashing from the light. The rings that were a promise of love and happiness.

“Thank you.” You look up at him with so much love and sigh. He was now yours forever, bound by the vows you cried to.

He looked between your eyes and tilted his head, "For what, lovey?"

"Just for being yourself. Everything that you do is just..." You find no other way to express what the feeling was, racking your brain for a word but unable to fine the proper wording. You push up on your toes and kiss him silly, pulling away just as fast. "That's what it feels like."

Fred felt warmth coat his cheeks and neck, lowering his head so he was mere millimeters away from your face. “You love me.”

“I love you, yes.” You look down at his lips before looking back up to the brown eyes you fell in love with so many years ago. "That's why I married you, dummy."

"Good thing you did too, your dad was going to kill me if I just wasted all your time. You know how hard it was to convince your dad I actually love you?" Fred complained as he dipped you, smirking when you gasped at the sudden movement. He pressed a quick kiss to your lips before pulling you back up.

You furrow your brow before breaking out in laughter as you remember the memories of him trying to get the Remus Lupin to like him. “He’s not that hard to charm, Fred!”

“Considering it took me months to even get him on board of the idea of you marrying me, I don’t believe it.” Fred kept you close, swaying to the music that was now coming to an end.

“Whatever.” You press a kiss to his jaw. “I love you either way.”

04/25/1998

The entire day you've been a wreck. The note you held in your hands felt like a weight, and you wanted to toss it to Fred as fast as possible. Your nerves were killing you, slowly making you twitchy at every movement. You weren't sure how Fred would react to the news, but when you found out, you threw up. Well, you weren't sure if that was because you were scared or if it was morning sickness.

“Georgie, has Fred gone on break yet?” You wander down into the store and pick at your nails, narrowly avoiding two kids chasing each other throughout the store.

“Ah, not yet. He’s dealing with a particularly tough customer. I’ll send him up for you once he’s done though.” George sent you a sympathetic smile and flicked his wand, watching the stairs turn to help the kids return back to their parents.

His smile soon fell into a frown when he noticed how sick you were looking. He knew that you were pregnant, but it was well past the morning and you were sitting upstairs merely working on papers.

“What’s wrong?” He asked and put an arm around your shoulder, guiding you away from the crowds so there were no stragglers to listen in on the conversation.

You purse your lips and spin the golden ring adorning your left hand, head reeling at the thought of telling Fred about the pregnancy. “I’m telling him today.”

“Oo, yeah. Can’t wait to see the look on that wanker’s face.” George chuckled and earned a punch to the arm from you, causing him to recoil and glare.

“Hey!” You scold and place a hand over the lower half of your stomach. “You can’t say that anymore, there’s a child present!”

“Aw, you’re no fun anymore now that you’re married and becoming a mother.” George stuck his tongue out at you before sending you a reassuring smile and giving you a thumbs up. “Congratulations, you can do it."

You nodded and made your way back up to the flat above the store, pacing back and forth from the living room to the kitchen. The nerves were getting worse. The note soon became overly crinkled and you swore your socks were getting tarnished by how many times you frustratedly spun around on your heel.

By the time you thought your nerves were finally settling, Fred walked in with the smile you loved. Your emotions sky rocketed and you ran into his arms, burying your head in his neck while he supported you up by the back of your thighs.

"Did you miss me already?" He chuckled and pressed a kiss to your cheek, earning a quiet 'yes' from you. "Aw, lovey."

After a few seconds of practically gluing yourself to him, you finally pulled away and pressed a proper kiss to his lips. He smiled and thumbed the skin available to him. You hum and direct him toward the couch, pulling away only to giggle when he chased your lips. He sent you a joking pout, ready to protest when you shoved the note into his hands.

"What is this?" He unfolded the paper and stared at you with so much love you felt a cavity coming in. "Turning the tables on me? I— Fucking hell."

"Fred!" You smacked his chest before meeting his brown eyes, unsure of the emotion behind them. "So?"

"So what?" His grinned and tackled you onto the couch, peppering your face in kisses. "You're pregnant! I'll be a father!"

You laugh at the feeling of his kisses, "You're not mad?"

"Godric, how could I be mad at you? You're having my child!" Fred kissed you senselessly, free hand coming down to rest on your stomach. "We're going to be parents!"

"We're going to be parents." You say to him and cup his face, letting your stored tears free fall from joy. "You and me."

"Just us." Fred wiped away your tears and sighed, resting his forehead on yours. "Us and the little one."

05/02/1998

You promised Fred you would stay home today. You promised him. But he never promised he would return home to you, causing you to rush over to the Hogwarts as soon as possible. When you arrived, the war was already won, but you didn't care. You wanted to see your husband.

“Where is he?” You ask the first person you find, sighing in relief when you see the youngest Weasley. You excused yourself and ran over to her, grasping Ginny’s arm before seeing her solemn expression, making you internally panic. “Ginny, where is your brother?”

Although you never specified, she knew exactly who you were asking for. She bit her lip and pointed to where George was kneeling, burying her head in your shoulder. You felt your heart constrict as you held her closely, breath catching at the sight in front of you. Molly was wiping her own tears when she saw you, pulling her daughter away from you so you could see Fred yourself.

“No no no no no no.” You fall to your knees and catch your breath, looking at Fred through wet eyes. A sob threatened to escape your throat when you felt for his hand, the warmth of his hand now gone and replaced with cold. You choked on tears and let yourself cry, hiding your face in his shoulder.

You begged the universe for this to be a horrible joke that everyone was in on. That Fred was okay and well, only pretending to be dead.

"Freddie, please." You cry and clutch his hand tighter, feeling for the gold band that represented your everlasting love. "I need you to wake up, Weasley. I-I can't do this without you. How am I s-supposed to—" You choked on your words, sobbing once more. You couldn't even finish your sentences.

When you felt a pair of arms pull you away from Fred, reality hit you like a train wreck. You stumbled over your feet as you stared at his dead body. Fred Weasley was really gone.

"What happened?" You whisper and stare at Fred, tears still falling. You felt so helpless. You were a healer and there was nothing you could do. When no one answered you, you whipped around and stared at whoever carried you away, another sob threatening to spill over when you saw George. "What happened, George?"

“There was an explosion.” He whispered and pulled you into a hug, letting you cry for a second. He had his last moment with Fred, but you hadn't seen him in hours.

You sobbed and collapsed in his arms, cries ringing out into the Great Hall. The pain you felt was nothing like you ever experienced before. You did everything you could do try and deny it, but no matter what you thought of, the sight of his dead body seemed to appear.

“George, why are we at Hogwarts?” You huff and follow him into a restricted room.

You weren't even supposed to be at Hogwarts and somehow you were standing on the very grounds your heart shattered. Your daughter just started a few weeks ago, but George somehow convinced you to return and dragged you to a room you've never seen before.

George glanced down at you, noticing your distant gaze, like you weren't safe inside the building anymore. “Have you been to Hogwarts since the war?”

“No.” You purse your lips and push the thought of the war away, brows creasing when you see how clean and furbished the room was. “Why? I need to get going soon. My shift—"

“Just look.” He pointed toward one side of the room, revealing the little contents of the room.

You frowned when you looked over. There was nothing of interest. “I can see the Mirror of Erised and a covered portrait.”

“Pull the bloody cover off.” George rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, shaking his head when you stuck your tongue out at him.

“Okay, but I’m not looking at the mirror.” You sighed and covered your eyes when passing the mirror. When you stood in front of the portrait, you pulled the cover off and gave George an annoyed smile. “I don’t understand—" When he gestured for you to look back over, you rolled your eyes before gasping, dropping the cloth without realizing a piece of parchment was attached to the front of it. "Oh my, Fred Weasley.”

“Hi, lovey.” Fred winked at you, wearing that smirk you haven't seen in years. When he saw tears falling from your face, he frowned and seemingly reached out to you. “Why are you crying? Did George upset you?”

“No, in fact he made me happy.” You spoke through tears and wiped your tears, smiling sadly. “I get to see you again.”

Fred grinned again and clapped his hands. “It’s been forever since I saw you last, Lupin. Where were you?”

You furrow your brows and look at George in confusion. “Does he—?” George shook his head and handed you the parchment that fell. You quickly peeled it open and wiped your tears once more as you read the contents. "He made it for a prank he never committed to." You huff and shake your head before responding to Fred. “I’ve been out and about, Weasley.”

He tilted his head and scanned your figure up and down, confusion written all over his face. “It seems as if we have a predicament here.”

“And what is that?” You murmur and step closer to the portrait, not realizing George had left you alone to have a moment with Fred.

“I want to hug you, but the best I can do is talk.” Fred sent you a lopsided grin and blew a kiss at you, making you laugh.

“Seems like a big problem.” You nod in agreement and sigh, wrapping your arms around your midsection. “I’ll understand what you mean.”

“In that case, I’m giving you the biggest hug right now.” Fred spread his arms wide and pretended to give you a hug before his eyes caught the gold ring around your left hand. “Where’d you get the ring, lovey?”

“Uhm…” You look down and spin the ring, smiling down at the piece of jewelry. “I got it from you a bit ago.”

Fred beamed in joy before he flattened again, looking around like he could see past the frame. “Where am I?”

“Home.” You muster a smile and wipe a tear that managed to escape, hands shaking. “You’re at home with your mum and dad. Don’t worry though, they wanted to actually hang out with you.”

Fred scoffed and shook his head, “Still rude as ever, Lupin.”

“Not as bad as you, Weasley.” You laugh softly and hold back anymore tears, hands finding Fred’s adjacent ring hanging around your neck. “I miss you.”

“I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

416 notes · View notes

wisteria-blooms · 1 month ago

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sunburns & dragons (charlie weasley & reader) (12/15)

CHAPTER DIRECTORY

TAGLIST AT BOTTOM! A/N: PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I MISSED ADDING YOU TO THE TAGLIST. I tried my best given it's been 6 months since I updated it... Anyway, I hope this chapter makes up for my absence. I got a bit tired of looking this chapter over and over so I'm posting it and crossing my fingers (ehe).

CHAPTER 12: Going to 'invigilate' with Charlie proves to be more than you bargained for. He's intent on showing you that Care of Magical Creatures should've been your favourite class, that leather is better than silk, and that you sure can fit on the same bed - wait, what? (7.2k words)

CHAPTER 12: MISTER AND MISSUS (WEASLEY)

The late afternoon sun poured into the windows of Madame Malkin's shop, illuminating the curtains of fabric draping from the walls. Swathed in amber light, you were perched on a chair right by the window. Nervous. Anticipating. Waiting. You didn’t want to bother the master at work. The seamstress clicked her tongue when she found the right colour thread.

You had come to pick up your freshly laundered and ironed clothes, and one particular piece that needed a stitch repair. The snag never bothered you but now it felt like sandpaper on your skin. If you were going to say yes to Charlie, you wanted to have a proper wardrobe ready.

Not that you were dying to go. It was just a possibility.

“Thank you for seeing me on such short notice.”

“Of course,” Madame Malkin responded. “Is there an occasion?”

“I’m acting as an invigilator.”

“Have you found a job as one?” she asked. You came here so often that Malkin could piece together some parts of your life.

“I’m helping a… friend in an educational setting. I’d like to look the part.” You drew in a breath. “Would any of this be appropriate?”

Malkin took one look at you. When she spoke again, her voice was firm but warmly informative. ”For someone your age, I’d lean towards something long and flowy. Nothing that hugs the silhouette too tightly. That would be considered improper. Layer it with,”—she gestured towards the cardigan on your lap,— “an article like this. But what you have on is plenty appropriate. There’s no need to change anything.”

You smiled. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

With your clothing in stow, you walked back onto the shopping street. The polished exterior you put on in the shop slowly chipped away as reality sunk back in. You exhaled. The puff of condensation stuck, and you wanted to scream into it to dissipate it and the passersby on the street. Goddamit, you were so confused.

Neither you, Charlotte, or Clara had gotten home properly the night of the Christmas fair. You’d all fallen asleep in the apartment from fatigue the moment you laid down. You, facedown on the middle couch with both your cousins curled up on the sectional. The horror of your mistake only dawned on you when you cracked an eye open only to be blinded by a rising sun. You threw off the blanket on your body and paced around the room, looking for a letter or howler or—

But there was nothing. You were shrouded in silence, the only exception being Charlotte and Clara’s light snoring.

Amazed, you slowly inched towards the hallway. Charlie’s door was ajar just the slightest. Against better judgement, you peered in. Through the sliver, you saw a mop of red hair on the pillow. Blankets covered most of Charlie’s body except for one bare leg that had managed to sneak out. When Charlie stirred and turned, you withdrew your head and planted your back against the wall. Had he caught you peeping in on him? After a few moments of silence, you deduced he was just tossing in his sleep.

You tiptoed back to the living room. On the sofa, Clara’s chest rose and fell peacefully, and in turn, she made you feel at peace too. It was utterly weirdly and pleasantly domestic, just spending your Sunday morning at home with Charlie and two kids. Had domesticity always been something you’d yearned for, or something spurred on by Bill and Fleur’s baby and some oscillating feelings for Charlie? You let yourself fantasise for a bit; it was some mushy food for thought to soften your recent tantrums.

You returned to the manor in the afternoon. No one, not your father, Draco, Rosamund, or Abraxas asked you about where you’d been the previous night. Puzzled, you had lunch that afternoon and life went on like usual. You peered around the table as you stirred your soup, waiting for someone to bring last night up, but no one did. Not even when Charlotte and Clara spoke on and on about Charlie and the magical night you’d had. You resigned to stay at the manor until Aunt Rosamund left. Charlie’s intentions were still unclear and you needed time alone to think about it.

As you sat in the nook by the window of your old bedroom, a pain festered in your stomach. It’d been three days, and Charlie hadn’t tried to reach out to you. What was he doing? Or rather, what were you doing? What were you hoping to achieve by stalling? What if you just said yes to Charlie and went with him to Hogwarts? Would things go back to normal? You’d give a lot to return to that same level of intimacy and familiarity with Charlie.

On Tuesday, you hovered by the main office at the Ministry. Your destination was the row of mailboxes. You’d written a request for the days Charlie asked of you but both fear and pride kept you from pushing the parchment into your boss’s mailbox. You shifted your weight from one side to the other. He’d probably think you desperate if you showed too much excitement. Then, you thought of Charlie surrounded by his friends, namely Mallory. The thought of them together made your cheeks burn with malice. If you were going to make a fool of yourself, you might as well make it a grand spectacle.

Friday.

You returned to the apartment after work and eagerly waited for Charlie to return home. You wanted to be there when you told him. But if he was going to make you any longer, your heart was going to explode in your chest. When you heard the lock turn, you jumped.

“I can go next week,” you said quickly.

Charlie barely made it through the door before you barraged him. “To?”

How could he have forgotten already? “Hogwarts!”

Charlie’s lips parted in realisation. “Hogwarts.” He drawled.

You nodded. “Yes.” Every second of silence that transpired ate away at your confidence.

“Ah,” Charlie finally said with a sharp exhale. “You should’ve told me earlier, (Y/N).”

“Oh?”

“I made other arrangements,” Charlie said.

The taut muscles of your face went slack.

“I’m just kidding!” Charlie dropped his messenger bag down and ran over to you. In an unprecedented move, he picked you off the ground. You fell limp just as quick, turning into putty in his strong arms. You looked down at him, wisps of your hair skimming his cheek. Your waist burned where his hands held you.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” he affirmed breathily in your ear. You shivered. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have joked like that. But I really am glad you’re coming.”

He was glad. Glad was equivalent to extremely elated as far as you were concerned.

After a few moments, he set you back on the floor. Suddenly, you didn’t like the feel of your feet on the solid ground.

“I’m going to make the proper arrangements, alright?” Charlie shot you a toothy smile before stepping back into his room. He ambled backwards, feet heavy on the floor, not turning away from you until you nodded. When you heard his door close, you turned towards the cupboards and punched the air in celebration.

From an impressionable age, you often daydreamed of being on vacation with a lover. Better yet, a honeymoon with your husband. Just the two of you, sailing for hours, drowning in an ocean of renewed love, and resurfacing the next morning in each other’s arms in a different world. Though, all you could see was Genevieve sucking Max’s mouth off on a dreamy beach, and suddenly, you didn’t want to think about it anymore.

Well, now it was your turn, and this was the closest thing you were going to get.

You bundled your coat closer to you and tightened your scarf. It was hard to think about the beach when your reality was grey skies and a sharp chill that smacked your face relentlessly. The tights underneath your long satin skirt and your topcoat were doing their very best to keep you warm. To distract yourself, you observed Charlie, who looked rather handsome as he walked in front of you. A thin, tobacco-coloured sweater under a topcoat. Black trousers rolled up to reveal grey socks. The only thing the slightest bit scruffy about him were the boots he chose, but you reckoned they were mandatory for the job: handling creatures. A brief image appeared in your mind of Charlie in the fields, calloused hands gripping a leather saddle…

Alright, you were plenty warm now.

Charlie led you to an empty compartment—“this one is my favourite”—and slung his bags and your suitcase on the racks above, then seated himself. You sat on the other side of him. The horn rang twice and the train station gently began rolling backwards out of view. Your fingers skimmed over the book in your purse you brought in case Charlie preferred to keep to himself. How awkward would it be if he chose to keep to himself for the entirety of the ride. Who knew what Charlie, in all his unpredictable glory, was going to do for a couple of hours?

“So,” Charlie started. The cloud-shielded light that flickered through the windows made his eyes look ethereal. “We’ll get there just after five, and we can go over the itinerary after dinner. The exam isn’t until Friday, so you’ll have some time to get accustomed.”

You shuffled back in your seat and smiled. “I spent seven years there. I do hope I’m accustomed already.”

“Seven years and only one with me,” Charlie corrected. “Sounds like a terrible time.”

“I found it satisfactory. I liked your brothers.”

You winced a little thinking about your fight with Fred and George that you haven’t patched up yet.

“Hey.”

You looked up to find Charlie pouting. “Satisfactory enough,” you corrected. “Could’ve been better, you’re right. Is that an acceptable answer for you?”

With a grin, Charlie sunk back into his seat. He lifted his leg and planted his heels on the front base of your seat, trapping your legs in between his. In the process, he scarcely looked up at you. Slowly, you inched back and kicked your legs up on the base of his seat.

“Are you playing games with me, (Y/N)?” Charlie asked. His tone was velvet, impossibly delicious.

Your eyes sparked in a way you didn’t think was possible.

“Perhaps, Charlie.”

“Well, I hope you enjoy losing.”

Your eyes flashed to the door to ensure no one was listening in on this… intimate conversation.

The corners of his lips tilted upwards even further. Charlie was going to send you into cardiac arrest sitting like that, with his legs spread and leaning backwards, taunting you about some 'games' you were going to play. Your imagination replaced the seat’s headrest with a headboard, his sweater with nothing, and the metallic walls of the train with the soft curtains of a four-poster. There it was again, the debauched image of you on your knees, face in between his legs, hands unravelling his belt and the zipper on his pants. And when you finally untangled the string of your present, you’d be rewarded with the tight slap of his cock to your cheek.

The thought of that added fuel to a kindling fire. “I could stand losing sometimes,” you said.

Charlie tilted his head back even further, his expression thick with amusement. “Huh.”

Above Charlie, his bag jostled and teetered until it was perilously close to the lip of the overhead compartment. You got up immediately, shattering the decadent moment, and pushed his bag back. At the same time, the train ran over a bump on the tracks. Now, it was your turn to be jostled backwards. Charlie caught you by placing a hand on the back of your thigh. The feeling of each finger indenting on your flesh, through the thin layer of your tights, registered first before your mind registered what was happening.

Motionless, completely stuck, confused, and hot, you had no idea what to do. Truthfully, the heat from his hand was starting to trickle upwards to your most intimate parts. Lust clouded your own eyes for a moment, and you imagined bracing your knee on the edge of his seat and leaning in to kiss him. You’d force Charlie’s hand to glide onto the curve of your ass. Oh, the places he could go from there…

Two firm rasps on the door wrested you out of your fantasy. Charlie quickly removed his hand. The cart lady cleared her throat, having clearly walked into something unexpected.

“Anything from the trolley?” she asked politely.

If only she knew how hungry you were. “Two coffees, please,” you said, running over to pay.

The sky still maintained slivers of light when the train pulled in at Hogwarts Station. You and Charlie began to deboard, and the stretch of your limbs was very enjoyable. The rest of the ride had been quiet and tame. The book you brought did get read, though you weren’t absorbing much. Your mind was flush with thoughts about Charlie’s hand on your thigh. Without a word, Charlie retrieved your suitcase from the overhead compartment.

“What did you pack in here? Rocks?” he asked as pretended to struggle with your belongings while transitioning from the train to the platform.

“Clothes,” you clarified. “I packed clothes.”

“Funny,” he said. “Mine all fit into a backpack, without any enchantments, for good measure. You know we’re only spending three days here, right?”

“I’m well aware, yes.”

“The wardrobes here aren’t made to fit what you have back home. If I remember correctly, I packed exactly two pairs of trousers and three shirts. You must’ve packed tenfold.”

You scrunched up your nose. “How do you know the state of my closet?” you pressed. By now, you’d been ushered off the train and were moseying on the cobbled roads. “Have you been nosing around when I’m not home?”

“It was on full display when I came in to ask you to come here with me. Stuffed to the brim with jumpers falling to the floor.”

“I was organising it,” you huffed into the cold air. “You came at a terrible time.”

“You keep telling yourself that,” Charlie hummed. Before you could defend yourself, Charlie patted the small of your back and rested his hand there. “Now, let’s get a move on. I’m famished.”

So. Eat. Me.

A rush of nostalgia overwhelmed you when you finally arrived at the entrance of the Great Hall. Everything looked the same as the last time you’d been here: the glow of the floating candles casting a golden hue on the brick walls, the ancient paintings, and the torrent of students that funnelled through the doors behind you. For a moment, you were a feet shorter and years younger with a prickly wave of excitement in your body because it was September again.

“Oh, Charlie, there are you. Wonderful. You’re just in time for dinner.”

Professor McGonagall’s robes swept the floor as she glided elegantly towards Charlie. It took her a moment to register you standing beside him. The world couldn’t fathom a more mismatched pair, you thought. Neither could Professor McGonagall, apparently, with the way her eyebrow cocked.

“Well, hello, (Y/N). It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“It has. It’s good to see you again.”

“I wish I’d known that you’d have a visitor this time around, Charlie,” she clicked her tongue. “I don’t have another room to spare you. You are well aware this is the busiest time of the month.”

“We’ll just have to make do, won’t we, (Y/N)?” Charlie asked, nudging you with his elbow. You swore you saw him wink.

You nodded trepidatiously.

“Very well,” McGonagall said. “Hagrid will take your belongings upstairs for you. Come settle in for dinner.”

Being confined to the same apartment was taxing enough. Now, you were to spend the night within metres of each other? If being rocked around on the train got you this hot and heavy, then you’d implode tonight. You continued to freak out silently behind Charlie.

“Do you dine with the other professors or your students?” you asked through shallow breaths.

“The professors,” Charlie responded. “So let’s get to the front.”

As you strode the length of the Great Hall to the front podium, you couldn’t help but notice that every step you took attracted a turn of the head. Not of any boys, but girls. You dared look back at a group who’d been audibly whispering, but that didn’t stop them. You had to wonder if you’d gotten something on your face, but you couldn’t have—you were constantly checking on the train. Confused, you reverted your attention to the table reserved at the front.

“Is there a seat for me?” you questioned. You’d prefer not to be left floundering about. “You know, seeing as how Professor McGonagall didn’t seem to be expecting me.” What happened to the arrangements he was making?

“There’s always a seat for you, (Y/N). I promise.”

You found a spot with Charlie at the very edge of the long table which was favourable because it kept you out of sight from the little piranhas. The row was occupied by professors from school years past, someone acknowledging you with a smile and a tinge of confusion. You weren't offended; you knew you paled in comparison to Charlie’s accolades. All you were to be remembered by was your last name.

“Charlie!” a gruff voice called from beside Charlie. Hagrid. With a sniffle, he droned on. “Didn’t think you’d make it, thought you were abandoning me.”

“I would never, Hagrid,” Charlie said. “In fact, I brought extra help for us.”

You almost laughed when you saw Hagrid’s head pop out from behind Charlie’s shoulder.

“Oh!” he said, making sense of your face. “That’s the missus, isn’t she?”

You looked at Hagrid curiously. “I’m (Y/N) Malfoy,” you corrected.

“Oh, yeah, missus… missus Malfoy, my bad,” Hagrid muttered, clearing his throat that was thick with embarrassment. “Must’ve gotten myself confused… you can blame Charlie here, mentioned he’d moved in with a woman a couple weeks ago… funny, I was thinking that, since he started dressing better than I’d ever seen him… avoided my questions about it…”

Charlie just laughed. “You remember that? Nevermind, I take offence, Hagrid.” He adjusted the collars of his dress shirt. “I’ve always been rather sporting to those who really know me.”

“When did you say that?” you asked. “About you moving in with me?” Charlie’s smugness about his fashion was now the least of your priorities. You understood why you were the belle of the Great Hall.

“In front of one of his classes,” Hagrid answered. “Never heard groans so loud. All the girls... none of 'em looked happy.”

“I’ve never had so many people look at my ring finger so much,” Charlie said, extending his left hand and looking at his knuckles. Then, he picked up his goblet and drank like he hadn’t just done catastrophic damage to your reputation.

You leaned in closer to Charlie who was in the midst of having a sip of water. “So your students think we’re married?”

Charlie retracted his lips off the rim of the glass with a soft pop. Those damn moist lips. Heat reluctantly pooled in between your legs again. He leaned towards you, eyes low, and whispered, “Probably. My bad. I hope you can forgive me for this gaffe.”

“Charlie, you didn’t do anything to dispel those rumours?” you chatisted. Your words and heart did not align—how you wished…

“I couldn’t presume their imaginations would take them that far.” He pressed his lips together in thought. His blue eyes twinkled in realisation. “Well, I suppose it won’t support your cause when we’re walking to the same room together tonight.”

“Charlie!” you hissed, giving him a gentle slap on the shoulder. He fell over with a pained expression before chuckling.

“Don’t worry,” Hagrid assured, the insinuation gliding off of him entirely. “I’ll take you there.”

When dinner concluded, a new burst of nervous energy tickled your skin. You slipped out quietly with Hagrid and Charlie through a side door. Charlie was all up on you, asking if you were ashamed to be hypothetically married to him to which you just sighed, feigning annoyance. He had been persistent about this topic as if you’d struck a pretty deep chord.

“It wouldn’t be that bad,” Charlie defended himself with enthusiasm. “I could be a good husband if I tried. I’m already quite the lover.”

You laughed. “Alright,” you conceded. “So, show me.”

Immediately, you regretted speaking your mind. Conversely, Charlie didn’t seem to mind. He sounded rejuvenated, almost excited. “You’re on.” He then sent a heart-stopping smirk your way before taking a couple long strides to catch up to Hagrid.

You squinted at his back. What the hell did he mean by that?

The opposing tower of Hogwarts was quiet and tranquil. It housed mainly professors, ancillary staff, and visiting guests. The chatter of the students had long filtered out to the wind outside and the flickers of the burning torches. After Hagrid showed you to your room and handed you a spare set of keys, he left to retire for the night.

“Go on,” urged Charlie, staring at the keyhole. “It’s your first time, not mine.”

You complied, turning the key and opening the door. When the door swung open fully, your eyes widened.

“Wow,” you breathed. “It’s gorgeous.”

Your eyes wandered to the back of the room first. Red velvet curtains hung against the window, draping against the stone walls. A canopy bed with the same curtains stood a foot away, the end of it facing a roaring fireplace. It was similar to what you slept in back in your school days but was much more spacious. Two nightstands flanked both sides. The torches on the wall provided light ample for reading. A dresser and a long mirror were perched on the sides of the room at an angle. Right beside it, all the way at the end was a door that connected the room to the toilets.

You walked over to the sofa in front of you where your luggage had been placed.

“Should we start unpacking?”

“I reckon, yeah,” Charlie agreed. “Don’t stuff up the closet too much, now.”

“Oh, you’ll be alright,” you said.

Together, you unpacked your luggage and toiletries. As you neatly organized everything in your closet, you stared curiously at the bed and back to the couch. How would you decide on the sleeping arrangements?

“Now that we’re situated,” Charlie said as he closed the dresser door. “Why don’t we do something fun? Something… naughty, perhaps?”

Every fibre of muscle in your body tensed as you turned slightly to face Charlie. The sparks from the fireplace behind him illuminated the edge of his freckled face. You backed up into the side of the bed, stumbled slightly, and calmly tried to stabilise yourself. The devious little smile Charlie sported remained in place as he closed in on you like a lion closing in on its prey. Your neck flushed under the collar of your cardigan. At this point, Charlie stood a mere two inches from you, close enough to touch. His hands travelled upwards to the collar of your blouse, his thumbs kneading the material and the back of his cold hand carressing your hot neck.

You shut your eyes as Charlie’s hands pulled the fabric closer together. So, this is how you were going to go. And boy, were you ever ready for it. Your mind reeled back to when he kissed you in front of your parents and all the pleasure you felt from it. His big hands squeezing your waist, his rough lips on yours…

Your daydream shattered when you heard the clasp of your cardigan tighten, metal scratching metal before the two ends hooked. Not undone, but done up. Confused, you opened your eyes.

“Bundle up, (Y/N),” Charlie said with a delicious smile. He patted your shoulder. “It’s about to get cold outside.”

What was that that Madame Millicent said about edging? You'd be sure to tell her about it if you saw her again.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

You were doing your best to follow behind Charlie’s speedy footsteps. The rhythmic echoing of his shoes on the stone ground reverberated in the empty halls. This all felt so wrong, like you were one wrong turn from being busted by Filch. But you were with Charlie, who was a walking, breathing get-out-Azkaban card and overarchingly, you weren’t students anymore.

When you’d calmed down, Charlie stopped in front on a steep, spiralling staircase. His eyes skimmed from your eyes down to your choice of footwear and he clicked his tongue.

“You might trip, so I’ll carry you up.” He patted his thighs and waited. “Want a ride or not?”

Your lips parted at the visual: Charlie, naked, his skin glowing under the hazy moonlight, lips parted, motioning for you to get on top of him.

Well, fuck.

You hopped onto Charlie’s back, finding it worthless to fight him. Your arms enveloped him and you rested your head gently on his shoulder. He felt so sturdy and strong. Strike that, strong was the wrong word—he was herculean. You were proven right; he was ascending the stairs faster with your weight than you would yourself.

“I guess you really wanted to ride me, hm? Charlie’s voice, tainted with suggestion, resonated in his chest, tickling your bare fingertips.

“It was a bit better than I anticipated, sure,” you responded, forcing yourself not to laugh as he rounded a corner.

“My ego’s wounded.”

“Your ego’s as thick as these walls, Charlie. I couldn’t imagine making a dent.”

“I’m going to drop you, (Y/N).”

You giggled. “So be it!”

When he held you steady, you egged him on. “Well?”

Charlie refused to follow up on his threat and instead, persisted until you reached the top floor. Instead of dropping you, he let you down gently, your feet landing feathery soft. Your head swiveled around the area Charlie had led you to: the astronomy tower. The sky, littered with stars upon a backdrop of muted swirls of green, spun around the arched windows. Bitter wind sifted through the openings, and you shifted a step left to block yourself from it.

“What are we here for?” you asked.

“I’m not sure,” Charlie admitted. “It’s just one of my favourite places to be when I need some peace and quiet. A way to unwind after a long day, if you will.”

“Those aren’t words I associate with you.”

Charlie chuckled. “I can’t fault you for saying that.” He directed you closer to the ledge where the telescope was planted. “Did you like astronomy at least?” he asked, tinkling with the height of the telescope.

“Of course,” you responded. “I quite fancy the stars. They’re so lovely.”

“More than Care of Magical Creatures?” he jested.

“Much, much, more.”

“Must run in your family.”

“How do you mean?”

“Your mum’s side names their children after stars, don’t they?”

Startled, you interrogated Charlie. “What? How did you know that?”

“How did I know that?” Charlie asked himself. He gave a noncommittal shrug, his smile never wavering. “Guess I’m just that smart.”

“Next thing I know, you’ll be reciting my aunts’ names,” you joked.

“I’ve got that covered, don’t you worry.”

“But seriously, how did you know that?”

“I have a pretty infallible memory for everything you say.”

You narrowed your eyes. “I don’t remember telling you that.”

“Well, my brothers are quite the talkers,” Charlie shifted the blame. “Plus, it’s kind of obvious. Andromeda, Bellatrix. Should I keep going?”

“You’ve been stalking me, Charlie!” you accused hotly.

Charlie just shrugged his shoulders like your family history was common curriculum, something as easy to recite as to who the first ever Minister of Magic was or a spell like lumio.

“So.” You decided to change the topic, choosing to proceed more delicately than driving Charlie into the ground. “Do you come here often?”

“Every week,” Charlie affirmed, leaning closer to the edge.

“What for? To freeze?”

“It wasn’t that bad in September,” Charlie corrected. “I just fancy looking up at the stars and thinking.”

“What do you think about?”

“About my life, how I got to where I am,” Charlie responded smoothly. A question like this, had it been directed to you, would’ve stopped you in your tracks. “And what I want to do in the future. So, I guess, the past, the present, and the future. It’s sometimes unnerving knowing the world’s so big and I’m just a small piece of it.”

“You’re not small.”

Assuredly and cockily, Charlie agreed: “I know that.”

You reddened, though the dark did a marvellous job concealing it. You clearly meant his stature and his presence but he might’ve been referring to something else—like, something in between his legs. You kept your head held upright instead of looking downwards.

You wanted the conversation to last the whole night. Talking to Charlie without him cracking a joke was so rare. You had no doubt everything he was saying was genuine. “What do you see in your future?” you pressed.

“Well,” Charlie started. “I see myself in Romania still, with the same job. The rest of it, I haven’t the foggiest.” He cocked his head towards you. “Where do you see yourself, (Y/N)? You must have some pretty big dreams in that pretty head of yours.”

You smiled at his compliment. “I’m content to be where I am as well.”

He pushed his palms against the concrete ledge and stretched his back. “With Bill being everything mum wanted and more, I’m off the hook for now,” Charlie remarked in a chipper tone. “I can breathe! She used to send me letter after letter pressing me to come back to England and,” Charlie laughed, “settle down, all that domestic stuff that Bill’s clearly a natural at.”

You giggled. “You can’t be tamed, can you?”

“Not exactly.”

Scissors cut through the flesh of the tender moment. He was nothing but honest tonight. So, this was when your heart lurched for the first time. Charlie was warning you that he couldn’t be tamed or held down by conventions like marriage or domesticity; he was here for a weekend, a winter, before running back to Romania.

“Well, the stars are beautiful tonight, aren’t they?” you said, cocking your head upwards and swallowing the fleeting joy of this trip.

“They are brilliant, yeah,” Charlie agreed. "But don't you think it'd be better with a dragon or two in the sky?"

You nodded. Your eyes gazed at him wistfully. If there was only a way to capture his devotion to this moment and make it forever.

“You’re in an awful rush to get back,” Charlie remarked as you ran down the hall, your eyes dating door to door for the correct number.

“It was chilly up there, Charlie! I’m freezing!”

When your little astronomy session had concluded, you realized just how cold your fingers and toes were. You exhaled loudly when you entered the warm refuge of your bedroom. You ditched your scarf and topcoat, took off your boots, and toed over to the fireplace. You outstretched your stiff, cold hands and let the flames breathe on your skin.

“Get used to it,” Charlie advised from the door, two steps behind you, still unbuttoning his topcoat. “We’ve got a full day outside tomorrow.”

You shuddered at the thought.

Charlie crouched down next to you by the fireplace.

“If I could give you one piece of advice, I’d say you’re better off wearing something more substantial. A teeny sheer skirt won’t do you any favours in the fields.”

“Oh! Well,” you began to retort, a huff tailing your sentence. Words, words you thought you’d locked up in your head, slipped out of your mouth faster than you could stop them. “I must’ve misunderstood. I thought me wearing less excited you.”

“Huh.” But when his words coagulated in his throat, it meant that you’d caught him off-guard. You’d revel in the one second you embarrassed the infallible Charlie Weasley. “Normally, yes, but I prefer you warm and alive this weekend. So, heavy duty denim and leather are much sexier.”

“I thought we would be in the classroom,” you mumbled. “Where it’s toasty.”

“We will be on Friday. But you should get a feel of my course first, don’t you think?”

You deadpanned. “No.”

Charlie laughed, falling back against the velvet couch. “You’re hilarious, (Y/N), really.” He pressed his palm on your shoulder, the patch of skin he touched growing unbearably warm, before using it to lift himself off the carpeted floor. He got up and headed down the room towards the entrance to the bathroom. “Would you like me to draw you a bath, milady?”

You shook your head. “No, I can do that myself, thank you.”

“Alright,” Charlie conceded. “In that case, I’m going to take a quick shower and before you broil for an hour.”

“What?” you gasped, exasperated. “I don’t take that long, Charlie.”

Charlie shook his head with a grin before disappearing into the bathroom.

“So, how are we doing this?”

Charlie stood steady, arms crossed, on the other side of the bed from you, his back against the door. His hair was clean but growing unrulier by the second, the dry air tempting each red ringlet back. His jaw was freshly shaven, and you were absolutely tantalized by him. His biceps bulged against his white t-shirt as he tightened his arms. Boyish, but so handsome. Your tongue stuck to the edge of your lips as you drank in him like a nightcap.

“Hm.” He pondered, raising his hand to rub his chin. “I don’t mind taking this side.”

“Oh.” Your eyes widened. “I was going to take the couch.”

“You’d fall right off if you moved an inch,” Charlie said.

You sighed. “Well, I had a suspicion that you’d end up kicking me off the bed in the middle of the night anyway.”

Charlie’s eyes sized up the mattress. “The bed’s big enough for both of us.”

“I can’t imagine it is.”

“You could sleep horizontally and you wouldn’t be able to touch me.”

“Are you assuming I sleep horizontally?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised, honestly.”

“You seem more the type.”

“Well, suit yourself.”

Charlie lifted the covers and glided into bed. He fluffed up the pillows and sighed in pleasure as he sunk in. You mimicked the motion, but when you slipped in, your body teetered on the furthest edge possible. You kept your eyes trained on the ceiling. How were you to expect any sleep being next to Charlie?

“By the way, (Y/N)? Can I ask you a question?”

‘Yes, I’d love to have sex with you.’

“What is it?”

“What happened to that little number you usually have on?”

You turned your head to look at Charlie whose arms shot out from under the covers. His pointer fingers mimicked a line, tracing up and down. “You know, the strappy dress?”

You wiggled against the bed, hating the way your shorts felt against the bedsheet. You had to preserve the last shred of propriety in case you were stuck in the same room as Charlie, and it looked like that prophecy fulfilled itself. “I wasn’t wearing it for you.”

“Shame, you looked great in it.”

Your heart bloomed at the compliment. “Maybe if you’re lucky, then tomorrow.” His laugh tickled your ears; he was that close. “Good night, Charlie.”

The next morning, you stirred to the sound of running water. A shower. For a moment, you imagined you were back at Fred and George’s flat, but then the crushing realisation that you hadn’t spoken to them in weeks choked any bit of excitement in your body. Fred wouldn’t be there to wake you up in the most annoying and intrusive manner. George wouldn’t be hurrying you to get ready for breakfast. It took another moment to acclimatize to your surroundings. In a span of three months, you’d gone from looking up at the vast ceilings of your bedroom at the manor, to the condo, and now, the curved, mahogany ceilings of Hogwarts.

“Hey,” Charlie greeted as he exited the bathroom, steam billowing in from behind him. When it cleared, it was evident he had just a singular towel wrapped around his waist. You jolted up immediately.

“Good morning!” you responded, eyes cautiously wide at the sight of a half-naked Charlie. What a way to wake up.

“(Y/N), hurry it up.” Charlie was walking over to the bed, causing you to inch back. “You’ve got twenty minutes before we have to be at breakfast.”

You shot up and looked at the alarm clock next to you. “Oh, you’re right.” The sheets tangled around your legs almost caused you to faceplant into the floor, but somehow, you freed yourself at the last minute, landing with a graceful limp. The moment both of your feet landed on carpet, you ran to bypass Charlie to the bathroom.

“Remember, (Y/N)!” His voice seeped through the heavy walls. He was way too chipper for a cold morning. “Heavy duty denim and leather!”

Your mind combed through your closet: flush with satin skirts, sheer pantyhose, silk blouses, and cashmere sweaters. Materials meant to seduce Charlie, but it was looking more like the only thing you’d seduce was a sharp talon into the flesh. “I don’t have a leather jacket!” you called back.

“You can borrow one of mine!” Charlie assured.

Breakfast proved beneficial for your stomach, spirits, and ego. With Charlie’s large jacket, once again, perched on your shoulders, you were certainly magnetic, eclipsing Fleur at the ball. The curious glances from all the girls as you strolled down the Great Hall washed off you like water on wax now. In fact, as pitiful as it seemed, you revelled in their jealousy. You could live in a deluded world where Charlie was your dutiful husband. And if you shut your eyes and brain off hard enough, it was a world where you and Charlie were visiting your future children at Hogwarts.

Okay, that was a step too far. There were many things to be done before you got there. Procreation, for one…

You opened your eyes to an icy glance from a teenage girl sitting with her feet up on the bench, her eyes grazing the outlines of Charlie’s jacket. You smiled politely back.

After breakfast, Charlie led you outside, trekking through dirt paths and tall grass to the forest. There was a certain ardentness that radiated from him. Charlie’s smile fully reached his eyes, and you could appreciate every crinkle as you walked alongside him. You chalked it to him being back in his natural element. His passion was so handsome.

In a perfectly sequestered area on the fields, fenced in with twine, Charlie started his tour of the ‘classroom’.

“See, these guys aren’t so bad, are they?” Charlie was practically begging for your acceptance as he held a flobberworm in between his fingers. It jiggled midair. “These are harmless and easy to take care of.”

You dry heaved and waved your hand in the air. “Please get that out of my sight.”

“Oh, come on.” Charlie stepped over so he was in front of you. “If you can’t feed a flobberworm, how are you going to advance to the next level?”

“The next level?” You blanched. “I thought you were showing me around the classroom. And correct me if I’m wrong, but I thought I was invigilating.”

Charlie set the flobberworm, which immediately took to a piece of lettuce, back on the table. “Look, (Y/N), you can’t tame a dragon without learning to tame a flobberworm first.”

You laughed. “When did I ever say I wanted to tame a dragon? Charlie, this is exactly what a bait-and-switch is.”

“You didn’t?” Charlie asked, fake surprise settling in on his features. “I must’ve misheard, then. Well, you pass this level on effort alone. Let’s move onto the Bowtruckles, they’re just a tad more interesting.”

You stopped him in his hot pursuit of the forest. “Charlie, I’m fine, really. I’m not scared of Flobberworms or Bowtruckles.”

“Yeah?” He quirked an eyebrow. “Then what stopped you from pursuing excellence?”

You inhaled, the cold air burning your nose. You wanted nothing more than to be truthful with Charlie and have a conversation like you did on the top of the Astronomy Tower last night. But a more sensible part of you told you to be cautious; you couldn’t wedge you and Charlie apart even further, put your differences on display, and send him running to Mallory. You couldn’t be more polar opposite if you tried; he and Mallory were like mirror reflections.

And after all, a part of you still pined heavily for him, so being truthful could be detrimental.

“I just didn’t like the larger creatures. You know, the ones bigger than me.”

“Well, let’s work our way up.” Charlie clapped his hands together, a puff of air leaving his mouth as he did. “We’ve got all afternoon. Hagrid definitely has some Hippogriffs around here.”

You pouted. “Can we just get back inside?”

“What? Does Hippogriff aversion run in the family?”

Was he referring to Draco’s incident back in his fourth year? “How did you know—”

When you didn’t answer as quickly as he’d liked, Charlie took the liberty to sweep you up. He used your hips as a swivel and flipped you over over his shoulder with ease. You yelped as your face dipped below his shoulder bone.

Helpless, you let him carry you like the spoils from a heist. “Alright, alright,” you conceded. “I am terribly excited for the next level.”

“That’s my girl!” Charlie commented.

You didn’t have to see his face to know he was smiling.

Initially, you wanted nothing more than this lesson to be over. You hated the unpredictability of wild beasts. They could be loving and sweet for a moment then decide in a split second to chomp your hand off. But as you began heading back to the castle, you realized you were sorely mistaken. With great trepidation, you had conquered the Hippogriff that you swore was your mortal enemy ten years ago. It helped greatly that Charlie’s hands were either on your shoulders or your hips to steady you.

“Breathe,” he had whispered near your neck. His body was flush against yours. “You can do this.”

You nearly salivated at his words.

It was beginning to get dark out. Charlie’s cheeks were stained pink from the cold. You were freezing, too, so you were more than ready to have a bath and sit by the fireplace in your room.

“Mr. Weasley,” a professor intercepted you at the entrance. “I’m glad you’re back. Someone’s been trying to ring you for the past hour. I’ve heard it’s of high urgency.”

Charlie seemed surprised.

He thanked the passing staff member. “I should get that,” he said to you. “I’ll see at dinner, alright?”

Charlie strode down the length of the hall in a hurry. Eyebrows furrowed, you watched his figure retreat with an uneasy feeling in your chest.

>> NEXT CHAPTER (COMING SOON)!

CHAPTER DIRECTORY

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