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obsessedwithceleste · 1 year ago

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Lessons in Love

(Or why Enzo should be banned from advanced potion making)

Theodore Nott x Ravenclaw Reader

Summary: Ft. Enzo being bad at potions, the Ravenclaw common room door, and more than one accidental love confession.

word count: 3.3k

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

A deep sigh escapes your lips as you walk purposefully through the empty halls of the castle. You loved Enzo. Really, you did. But how that bastard had managed to squeeze enough O.W.Ls out of his arse to get into advanced potion making was absolutely beyond you.

It’s not that you thought your childhood best friend was dumb per se. You simply thought his talents lay elsewhere. Like in herbology. Or anywhere really where adding a pinch too much powdered moonstone didn’t result in a glittery pink potion exploding all over the front of your robes. This never would have happened of course, if your usual, equally talented, potions partner, Theodore Nott, had actually bothered to show up, but god only knew where that boy had wandered off to.

Walking into classes earlier that day you had been giddy with excitement. While potions may not have been Enzo’s forte, it was most definitely yours and advanced potions was finally giving you the challenge you had been craving. Amortentia, your professor had said, is the strongest love potion in the world, thereby making it exceptionally difficult to brew. You already knew this of course as it had all been detailed in the days readings. Not only would it make someone obsessively in love, but it also had an addictive scent, changing to fit what one was most attracted to. Now that was all well and good until one was covered in it.

Originally, you figured that all would be fine. Enzo profusely apologized, quickly following up with a joke about how “at least you’ll smell nice for once.” But oh how right he’d been. It started with students accidentally bumping into you in the corridor as you went from class to class as they subconsciously leaned in to follow the alluring scent. A minor inconvenience you thought. (Although you did have to choose to ignore that third year almost getting impaled on a statue’s sword because he wasn’t paying attention after you passed.)

But then Cho and Marietta couldn’t stop leaning in to get a whiff of the scent all throughout the start of charms, causing Flitwick to continuously shoot concerned glances at the three of you. You eventually caved, moving quickly and silently to the back of the class room where Enzo was sat with the rest of the Slytherins. As soon as he saw you making your way over, he leaned over, whispering something in Daphne’s ear beside him. She gives you a quick look of knowing pity before moving into the empty seats usually claimed by Theodore and Matteo who were, unsurprisingly, still no where to be found.

“For what it’s worth, I really am sorry,” Enzo mumbles, at least having the decency to look embarrassed as you plop into the seat beside him.

“This is horrible! I did not need to know that Marietta’s amortentia smells like bloody Cormac McLaggen or whatever his name is,” you hiss in response.

Enzo lets out a quiet chuckle, sneaking a quick glance at your house mate.

“Hey,” he whispers after a moment, “What do you smell anyway? You must be going mad having that stuff all over you.”

You shoot a glare at your friend. You had a sinking feeling he already knew, considering he had been poking fun at you for weeks. You shudder remembering all those disgusting kissy faces Enzo had been making at you from across the library just last week. Bloody bastard was fishing for confirmation. Maybe if you ignore him, he’ll simply go away you think to yourself. Enzo however, takes your silence as an admission of guilt, a grin spreading across his face.

“I knew it. So tell me y/n, what does dear Theodore Nott smell like? Cigarette smoke? Hippogriff dung?” He snickers.

“He is my best friend, Lorenzo,” you whisper, giving the boy beside you another withering glare.

Enzo’s face falls at this.

“I’m your best friend.” He grumbles.

“I don’t know why. You’re mean to me,” you reply with exasperation.

He immediately perks up again at this, giving you a slight nudge.

“So I’m right? You do like Theo?” He asks excitedly.

“Enzo, I will avada you, and make it look like an accident,” you hiss in response.

“Come on, y/n, I’m your best friend, you have to tell me these things,” he pouts.

“Oh really? Like how you have to tell me about how you’re probably smelling Daphne’s shampoo right now? Or is it her lavender perfume?” You ask innocently, batting your lashes.

Enzo goes beet red at this, gesturing wildly at you to lower your voice.

“Hush woman! She’s right there!” He hisses.

You say nothing, only giving him a triumphant grin before turning back to Flitwick to try to salvage what few notes you’d been able to take down that lesson.

The final straw occurred during ancient runes when poor, unsuspecting Hermione sat down behind you and asked with a look of bewilderment if you had been showered with Draco’s cologne that morning. Her look of absolute horror only grew as you told her of your distressing situation. You thought she might faint when she realized that Draco had been within earshot and now had a shit eating grin on his face. With a sigh of defeat, you give Hermione an apologetic smile before deciding it was time to turn in the white flag of defeat.

You breathe a heavy sigh of relief as you finally come to a stop outside your common room door. You then frown, realizing you had in fact, made it to your common room door.

“What makes a raven like a writing desk?” The metallic voice of the Ravenclaw common room door asks, springing to life.

This putrid, skanky little-

“You wouldn’t want me to shove either of them up your ars-“

A low whistle catches your attention before you’re able to finish cursing out your common room’s door thoroughly.

“Whoa there feisty, let the eagle be,” Theo’s voice laughs as he steps into view.

The strong scent of roasted coffee beans and smoke that had been burning your nostrils all day hits you once again like a ton of bricks. Giving the eagle another withering glare, you turn your full attention to the looming threat approaching. You would sooner throw yourself off of the astronomy tower than let Theo know that your amortentia smelled like him. Someone had to keep the boy’s bloody ego in check.

“Full offense Theodore, I’ve had a horrendously awful day today, and I really don’t have time for whatever nonsense you’re about to start.” You say with a roll of your eyes as you cross your arms at the boy in front of you.

Theo laughs again, mirroring your movements as he leans against one of the pillars lining the halls.

“Poor principessa. Have a hard day in classes without me?” He asks with a smirk.

You scowl in response. It didn’t help that you had, in fact, missed the brunette’s comforting, albeit annoying, presence all day, but you weren’t about to admit that.

“Now that you mention it, I didn’t even realize you were missing. What snake hole did you slither off to today?” You ask, the lie sliding easily off your lips.

Theo cocks as eyebrow at that but leaves it be.

“Matteo wanted to ditch, had to baby sit. Make sure he didn’t get into too much trouble. You know how it goes,” Theo replied shrugging his shoulders. “And what’s a pretty little witch like yourself doing skiving off class?”

Theo takes another step forward.

“Don’t come closer!” You yelp before you can stop yourself. You had no interest knowing what Theo would smell if he got close enough. He frowns at you however.

“And why not?” He challenges, taking another step towards you. This boy really did not take well to being told what to do.

“I- I smell. Really bad. Had to leave class, I just- ya know, smelled, so bad” You splutter, mentally kicking yourself. Who says that in front of the guy they like? Why were you like this?

Theo’s thick brows shoot up at your declaration before he takes a final large step towards you and leans in, pressing his hand against your forehead before moving it down to feel your cheek.

“Y/n are you ill? Do you need to go see Madam Pomfrey? I can walk you there if you’d like.” He says, any bit of snark his voice previously held long gone.

“I’m fine Theodore, really.” you say, batting his hand away.

“Are you sure?” He asks, looking at you disbelievingly.

He leans in again and takes in a whiff of your scent and you immediately tense, freezing where you are. God damn it. His brows furrow.

“Y/n, you smell perfectly normal, maybe a bit stronger than usual, but definitely not bad.” He says, looking even more confused.

Before you’re able to fully process the words that just came out of Theo’s mouth, Enzo and Pansy come barreling down the hall towards the two of you in a fit of giggles.

“Y/n! y/n, you know I’m sorry, really I am, but if dousing you in amortentia is all it takes to get Draco and Granger to make complete fools of themselves in front of each other, I’d do it again!” Enzo exclaims between breathy laughs. “You haven’t seen ferret boy run past, by chance, by the way have you?

“Sorry, amor-what now?” Theo asks, blinking as he purses his lips.

You look between the three of your friends in alarm, praying no one mentioned anything after Theo had just announced that you smelled perfectly normal to him.

“Oh, you’re going to wish you were there! After you left, Draco was so pleased with himself. Looked like a kid on Christmas. Kept trying to flirt with Hermione until she finally sent a flock of doves to run him out of the classroom! Professor wasn’t too happy bout that one. Let us go early to find the blonde loon,” Enzo says, completely ignoring Theo’s question.

“I’m sorry, amor-WHAT?” Theo asks again, louder this time.

You feel yourself cringe.

“Amortentia.” Pansy snorts. “Do try and keep up Teddy.”

“This is what you get for always skiving off class with Matteo,” Enzo adds, nodding at the boy as if he were his disappointed mother.

“Mhmm. Enzo totally floozied over y/n’s potion this morning. Blew it up all over her and she’s been having people wander up to her to take a sniff all day.” Pansy tells him with a sniff.

Theo blinks again before slowly meeting your eyes as what he said only moments earlier begins to sink in. Pansy, ever the cunning witch, was lightening quick to catch on.

“Speaking of which, I am suddenly so interested in what exactly it is that you smell, dearest Teddy,” Pansy says as her eyes flicker between the two of you, a mischievous grin growing on her face.

Theo scowls at the nickname.

“Campfire.”

“Old parchment.” You say in unison.

Pansy smirks.

“Do you smell that Enzo?” She asks, making a show of sniffing the air around her. “I think I smell- a liar. Or two.”

Enzo only snickers as he eyes the both of you up. He knew exactly what you had been smelling all day and you begin to feel panic rise up in your chest. You send a menacing glare his way, daring him to open his mouth.

“Come on Pans, I don’t think Draco and Granger are the only ones who’ll be chatting up tonight,” he says finally.

Glaring at the pair’s disappearing backs, you once again turn slowly back to the problem at hand.

“Soo,” Theo starts at the same time you blurt out,

“This is entirely your fault.”

Theo’s mouth drops open, and he has the audacity to look offended.

“How do you figure mi amore?” He asks.

“You’re supposed to be my partner in potions, but you weren’t there today, so I had to work with,” you shudder, “Enzo.”

Rolling his eyes at your dramatics and giving you a small smile, Theo lets himself relax, leaning on the wall as he towers over you.

“Enzo isn’t so bad,” he says, slowly bringing a hand up to rest on your waist, gently moving you towards him. You pretend not to notice, taking a small, nervous step forward.

“He singed off Matteo’s eyebrows last year. The year before that, he didn’t realize there was a difference between fire flower and fired flour, and his potion melted through the floor. I heard a Puff call him Slytherin’s Seamus,” you retort. “Do you realize how bad you have to be at something to get made fun of by a Hufflepuff?” He snorts at that, cocking his head in agreement.

“Well I’m sorry alright? I’ll make it up to you.”

“You’ll have to. I have to go in again to remake the potion. Don’t want that bad mark on my grade.”

Theo only hums at this, as you’re finally standing nose to chest with him, forcing you to tilt your head up to still see his face.

“You really do smell nice,” he murmurs, pressing his nose lightly into your hair.

You make a face before nuzzling into his chest to hide the redness growing on your cheeks.

“I’m not talking about this in public. I simply refuse,” you say, trying to melt into him from pure embarrassment.

Theo looks down at you with a devilishly handsome grin before turning back to your long forgotten common room door.

“Hey, open up. She technically answered your little riddle earlier,” he tells the door.

The eagle grumbles something unintelligible as it starts to life again.

“I can always melt you down. I’m sure you’d make a great piss pot,” Theo threatens, going to pull out his wand.

The door swings open rather violently and you’re pretty sure you can hear a rather colorful string of curses come out of the eagle’s beak as you make your way inside. Having been there a thousand times before, Theo easily leads you to your shared, but thankfully empty, dorm room, closing the door behind you.

“You really don’t get along with that eagle, do you principessa?” He asks, throwing his shoes off and making himself comfortable on your bed like he usually did.

“Like you’re any better. You just threatened to turn it into a chamber pot,” you retort, falling easily back into your usual banter. This was fine. This was safe.

Theo only raises a brow at you.

“The blasted door is still mad at me for making a ur mum joke when it asked me if a chicken came before the egg in front of a bunch of second years.” You admit, letting your arms fall to your side.

Theo lets out a loud laugh at that shaking his head and extending his arm for you. You walk carefully towards the bed before hesitantly accepting his invitation. It’s not that cuddling with Theo was something unfamiliar to you, as much as you were hyper aware of the slightly awkward tension between the two of you that wasn’t usually there. You slide your shoes off as well before curling up next to him and laying your head on his chest. The two of you lay in silence and you slowly let your eyelids flutter shut, lost in the feeling of Theo’s chest rising and falling.

“You know. You still haven’t told me what your amortentia smells like,” Theo says, finally breaking the silence as he gently brings his hand up to run his fingers through your hair.

“Take a wild fucking guess,” you murmur, refusing to open your eyes and determined to get further lost in his warm touch.

He only hums in response, continuing to comb his fingers through the soft locks of hair.

“You know when Enzo asked me if I smelled you today, he thought you’d smell like hippogriff dung,” you say eventually.

“Fucking tosser. What did that git smell? Wild lavender?”

“And Daphne’s shampoo.”

You feel Theo snort as if he expected no less of your ever romantic best friend. Silence once again rolls over the both of you as you absentmindedly play with the edge of his shirt, rolling the soft fabric between your fingers nervously. The quiet begins to feel suffocating, so you open your mouth to speak, but Theo beats you to it.

“Champagne. And that perfume you always use. With the little white flowers. Lilies of the valley, right?” Theo says.

You open your eyes to look at him in confusion.

“That’s what you smell like.” He says, carefully running his hand down your spine, sending a shiver through you.

“I smell roasted coffee. And smoke. Not the fire-y kind though. The kind that sticks to your clothes cause you refuse to quit smoking.” You respond, looking into his eyes warily for his reaction.

Theo only smirks in response, a cocky grin spreading across his face.

“Aw mi amore, I’m what you’re most attracted to?” He asks, the teasing bait evident in his voice.

You feel heat rise to your cheeks as Theo gazed intently down at you in his arms.

“Shut up Theodore. You sure know how to ruin a moment,” you say, once again burying your face in a chest.

You feel his chest rumble with laughter before his hand snakes it way up to your chin, tilting your head up and capturing your lips with his. His lips are softer than you imagined as he moves them gently against yours. You let a soft gasp escape and Theo pulls you closer, gripping your waste tightly, and shifting you on top of him, deepening the kiss until you’re both left gasping for air.

“Was that more of what you had in mind amore?” He asks with an innocent smile, looking up at you with what you could only describe as his best baby seal eyes.

“I mean, you were definitely significantly more shirtless when I imagined it, but I can settle.” You joke.

Theo’s eyes darken however, and he lifts you as if you weigh nothing, flipping you over so that he now hovered above you, your back pinned against the bed beneath you. With one swift movement, Theo pulls his shirt up and over his head before lowering himself back down, his chest now pressed against yours.

“Better?”

You can’t help but laugh at the boy’s determination as your eyes shamelessly take in the lean muscle and tanned skin that was current above you.

“Theodore, as much as I enjoy this, you have to put your clothes on. Cho or Marietta could walk in at any time,” you tell him as you begin to make soft circles across his waist line with your thumbs, admiring the boy in front of you.

“Mm. You mouth is saying one thing, but these,” he says, placing his hands over yours, “are saying something else entirely.”

You roll your eyes, pulling your hands out from under his and handing him his discarded shirt.

“One kiss?” He asks, looking at the shirt as if it had mortally offended him.

“One kiss.”

He leans down, once again capturing your lips with his, but with more intensity this time. You feel one of his hands brush your waist as his thumb pushes up under your shirt, the rest of his hand following soon after, gripping tightly at the warm skin beneath. You let out a breathy moan when he flicks his tongue across your bottom lip, and he takes it as an invitation to let his tongue explore the rest of your mouth.

An awkward cough shakes you from the haze and you look up, over Theo’s shoulder to see Cho standing guiltily in the doorway.

“Sorry,” she says, looking literally anywhere but you and the shirtless boy above you. “Bad time?”

You cover your eyes in embarrassment, feeling heat once again rush to your cheeks.

“What did I tell you!” You groan, letting your head fall back onto your mound of pillows. Meanwhile Theo has a much too self satisfied grin across his face.

#harry potter universe #harry potter #slytherin boys #slytherin #ravenclaw #lorenzo berkshire #theodore nott #draco malfoy #matteo riddle #daphne greengrass #pansy parkinson #fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #theodore nott x reader #how do you write in 2nd person #theo nott #theo nott x reader #theo nott x y/n #theodore nott x y/n

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jadeshifting · 13 hours ago

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AMORTENTIA.

　　　. 　　˚　　　　*　　　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　

the air in the dungeon was practically electric, a low hum of whispered gossip and barely-contained giggles rippling through the students as they slid into their seats. today was the day—Amortentia day. everyone was buzzing, eyes darting around, wondering who among them might catch a whiff of their essence in the swirling potion. the curiosity was intoxicating: what would you smell? would it reveal some secret crush, or confirm a love you hadn’t dared to voice? the thought of brewing it, learning its secrets for future use, had everyone on edge, hearts thudding with anticipation. the room was alive with possibilities, every stir of a cauldron promising revelations and maybe, just maybe, a gossamer thread connecting you to the person you’re meant to be with

WHO IS IT THAT YOU SMELL ?

　　　. 　　˚　　　　*　　　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　

˚☽˚.⋆ MATTHEO RIDDLE. dark chocolate and crackling embers devouring wood chips, with a hint of something dark and unidentifiable

˚☽˚.⋆ DRACO MALFOY. crisp winter air and freshly polished leather, laced with a whisper of expensive cologne

˚☽˚.⋆ THEODORE NOTT. ancient parchment and sandalwood, with undertones of the forest after an unforgiving storm

˚☽˚.⋆ PANSY PARKINSON. rich jasmine and a touch of spiced vanilla, wrapped in a cloud of luxurious bergamot perfume

˚☽˚.⋆ LORENZO BERKSHIRE. sea salt and sun-warmed driftwood, with a tiny hint of freshly squeezed lime

˚☽˚.⋆ BLAISE ZABINI. luxurious cooking spices and smooth, aged whiskey, with the faintest trace of cedarwood

˚☽˚.⋆ ASTORIA GREENGRASS. soft rose petals and sweet honey, tinged with the refreshing scent of a summer breeze

˚☽˚.⋆ DAPHNE GREENGRASS. mellow lavender and fresh morning dew, layered with a whisper of crisp apple

˚☽˚.⋆ MILLICENT BULSTRODE. earthy pine and rich musk, softened by the warmth of freshly brewed coffee

˚☽˚.⋆ HARRY POTTER. freshly cut grass and a hint of broomstick polish, with the undertone of gently burned bay leaves

˚☽˚.⋆ HERMIONE GRANGER. crisp parchment and freshly brewed peppermint tea, with a subtle whiff of vanilla candle wax

˚☽˚.⋆ RON WEASLEY. warm cinnamon and rich butterbeer, tinged with the comforting scent of old wood

˚☽˚.⋆ LUNA LOVEGOOD. the ethereal scent of rain-soaked wildflowers and a hint of parchment, like secrets whispered in a moonlit meadow

˚☽˚.⋆ GINNY WEASLEY. the fiery aroma of spiced apple cider and freshly mown grass, full of warmth and untamed spirit

˚☽˚.⋆ FRED WEASLEY. fiery cloves and burnt sugar, mingling with some mysterious electric buzz

˚☽˚.⋆ GEORGE WEASLEY. smoky bonfires and caramel toffee, layered with a cheeky twist of citrus zest

˚☽˚.⋆ CEDRIC DIGGORY. golden apples and the fresh scent of a cool river breeze, tinged with warm amber

˚☽˚.⋆ NEVILLE LONGBOTTOM. freshly turned soil and blooming flowers, with a faint trace of sun-ripened strawberries

˚☽˚.⋆ CHO CHANG. delicate baby’s breath blossoms and soft raindrops, with a whisper of green tea with too much sugar

˚☽˚.⋆ CORMAC MCLAGGEN. sharp citrus and molten pine candle wax, layered with the crispness of mountain air

˚☽˚.⋆ OLIVER WOOD. freshly mown grass and clean sweat, mixed with morning dew on wood and the stirring of broom polish

˚☽˚.⋆ SEAMUS FINNEGAN. smoky campfires and a hint of spiced firewhiskey, laced with the tang of sea salt

˚☽˚.⋆ DEAN THOMAS. charcoal sketches and warm cocoa, blended with the cozy scent of old bookshops

˚☽˚.⋆ REMUS LUPIN (ooh, scandal). warm honey and worn leather, with a trace of earthy pine forests after rain

THE JUICY AFTERMATH.

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the aftermath of Amortentia class is pure, unfiltered chaos. whispers turned into gasps when Dean realized his girlfriend didn’t catch his scent in the potion—no, she smelled someone else entirely. in front of everyone, too… yikes.

.　　. 　 ˚　. meanwhile, Astoria’s cheeks turned into fiery roses when she realized she smelled the awkward Gryffindor idiot she sneered at in the hallway (RON!! WEASLEY!!), and now she had to question practically everything about herself and her sensibilities

.　　. 　 ˚　. but the real scandal? Padma smelled Professor Lupin. yep, full-on professor. she looked like she wanted to sink into the floor, but how embarrassing was it, really? (no one else wanted to admit it, but plenty of his students knew that the gentle cadence of his voice and his capable nature made them swoon in class.) friendships were tested, secrets spilled, and the whole castle buzzed with the fallout of who smelled what—and more importantly, who smelled who

WHAT DOES YOUR AMORTENTIA SMELL LIKE ?

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after all, if you know, you can zero in the moment someone else smells you—you hear someone whisper a description of your particular brand of personal fragrance, and their harbored affections for you are on full display for you to take advantage of

˚☽˚.⋆ freshly baked cinnamon rolls on a chilly morning, the scent of the creamy glaze cutting through the bite of the cold air

˚☽˚.⋆ the buttery sweetness of caramel popcorn at the fairgrounds, playful and indulgent, mixed with the salty tang of sea breeze at sunset

˚☽˚.⋆the rich, creamy fragrance of coconut oil warming on sun-kissed skin, luscious and inviting

˚☽˚.⋆ the soft, powdery scent of lavender sachets in a vintage wardrobe, delicate and calming with an undertone of light wood shavings

˚☽˚.⋆ the silky smooth scent of jasmine tea steaming in a porcelain cup, refined and subtly intoxicating

˚☽˚.⋆ crisp, clean and freshly laundered linen on a breezy day mixed with the sweet, fruity aroma of ripe peaches on a summer afternoon

THIS YEAR’S AMORTENTIA DISASTERS.

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sure, there’s always one or two, but the Amortentia mishaps that year were legendary

.　　. 　 ˚　. first off, poor Cormac accidentally dosed himself—yeah, rookie mistake—and spent a week hopelessly in love with his reflection (but how different was that from his true self, anyway? no way of knowing.)

.　　. 　 ˚　. then there was Katie, who slipped a few drops into a goblet meant for Mr. Harry Potter of boy-who-lived fame, only for his best friend Hermione to pick it up instead. The look on Katie’s face when Granger started waxing poetic about Katie’s “brilliance” in the middle of the great hall was priceless—but, of course, Hermione was beet red and positively humiliated after it wore off, and i believe the two haven’t spoken since. i think Katie learned her lesson, though.

.　　. 　 ˚　. and let’s not forget Jenny, who finally got her crush, Maximus, to fall head over heels—only to discover lovesick Maximus was clingy with a capital C. cue sleepless nights and desperate whispered pleas for antidotes. a couple of brave (or just plain desperate) students tried to brew their own fixes in the dorms, resulting in green smoke, shrieking mandrakes, and one extremely unfortunate case of squishy bones and a subsequent trip to the hospital wing

.　　. 　 ˚　. and of course, the pièce de résistance: Parvati and Lavender dragging a moonstruck Ruby to Slughorn, her eyes glazed over, babbling sonnets about a completely baffled Draco Malfoy—he loved attention, sure, but he looked like he wanted to die. Slughorn went easy on her to save them the embarrassment. the whole school buzzed with these tales, each mishap adding another layer of absurdity to a year that already had more than enough going on

GOOD LUCK IN LOVE THIS YEAR, WITCHES AND WIZARDS

yours truly,

— me :^)

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hssrarepairs · 10 days ago

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📊 HSS Rare Pairs 2024: STATS 📈

Gather 'round, everyone, it's time for some pretty graphs and some big numbers. We gave out 178 gifts for this year's secret santa exchange! So many!! See our masterlists for a full list of works or check out the collection on AO3.

Masterlist 1: Creative Mediums

Masterlist 2: Femslash & Poly Fic

Masterlist 3: Gen & Het Fic

Masterlist 4: Slash Fic

View all gifts on AO3

🍐🎄🎁✨🍐

—

We had a range of ratings...

And a variety of ships...

We had 135 different ships!

Sirius/Severus and Neville/Pansy were our most popular ships at 6 works each

Not far behind were Sirius/Harry, Regulus/Remus, and Minerva/Poppy at 4 works each

We had some super rare pairs like Dawlish/Daphne, Puddifoot/Ron, Pomfrey/Andromeda, Muriel/Umbridge, and Sirius/Kingsley/Severus

Our most popular tags were Fluff, Smut, Established Relationship, Age Difference, and Angst...

Our most popular gift type was Creative Writing but we also had a range of other gifts...

A Rosekiller & Moonwater ship manifesto

A Blackbones fic recipe

Some wonderful crafts: embroidery, bookbinding, crochet, sculpture, diorama

An English and Dutch translation

4 podfics

7 moodboards & banners

And a ship guessing game!

Between all of our gifts, we wrote almost 700k words!!

We had 34 wonderful drabbles and ficlets (<1k words)

The majority of our fics, 67 of them, were between 1k to 5k words

Our longest works were a wartime Severus/Charlie fic (45k words), an arranged marriage Daphne/Harry fic (28k words), and a post-war Cho/Dudley fic (27k words)

Thanks for joining everyone and putting 178 more rare pair works out into the world! 🍐

#hss rare pairs 2024 #hp rare pair #stats #mod post

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emeraldelixirs · 6 days ago

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Bloodsport {I: where’d it go wrong?}

bsf! m. riddle x fem!sallow!reader, fem!sallow!reader stepbrother! t. nott

Bound by Blood, Betrayed by Fate. When you’re dragged to Malfoy Manor under orders from Voldemort himself, you learn the price of your mother’s mistakes: an Unbreakable Vow, tethering your life to the deranged Bellatrix Lestrange. Forced to navigate a web of dark magic, family debts, and impossible expectations, you must tread carefully in a house brimming with enemies—and a few familiar faces. As tensions rise and the lines between loyalty and survival blur, one question remains: will you find a way to break free, or will you lose yourself to the darkness?

Content warnings: 18+ themes, mentions of death, mental, emotional, physical abuse, torture, trauma, dysfunctional family dynamics, taboo themes, grief, underage coercion misogyny, classic canon HP themes of blood purity, house prejudices, oppression

Word count: 2.3k

A/n: and here lays the start of y/n’s trauma, with a lovely flashback. This is merely a filler before I get to the good stuff, bc next part is 8k worth of words and I will not elaborate any further. DISCLAIMER: girl in picture is not descriptive of Y/n, I am writing her with as little description as I can besides last name ofc. I just wanted a fitting pic for the chapter until I get to an official banner.

[playlist: the lakes–taylor swift, july–noah cyrus, forever winter–taylor swift, where’d it go wrong–d4vd]

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It was a bright summer day in June, one of those days where the remnants of spring lingered in the air—a soft, cool breeze running through the wildflowers in the fields surrounding the Parkinson Mansion. Despite the sun’s gentle warmth and the comforting drone of dragonflies and honeybees, something felt off in the pit of your stomach. You couldn’t place it, but the sense of dread fluttered there, stubborn and persistent.

You, Pansy, and Daphne had strayed from the bustle inside—your two closest friends pulling you out to the meadow behind the estate. The Parkinson Mansion itself was a grand, pristine building, though seldom occupied by actual parents these days; they were always away at this meeting or that trip. Under normal circumstances, you’d relish a carefree summer’s day with your friends, but the knot in your stomach refused to untie. Perhaps because your mother had acted so strangely the night before, insisting you spend the night at Pansy’s, hugging you tight enough to leave you breathless and—if you weren’t mistaken—a little dampness in your hair from her tears. You’d woken this morning with an irrational worry gnawing at you, ready to flee back to the perpetually hollow cold of Nott Manor to ask the meaning. But now, it merely circled your thoughts like a blackbird overhead.

Nevertheless, it ought to have been peaceful here. Sunbeams chased off the last dewdrops from the night. Mourning doves cooed in the distance, half-hidden in the branches. The breeze ruffled Pansy’s dark hair as she crouched, meticulously polishing her new Nimbus broom, the latest model on the market. She paused every so often, lifting it into the sunshine to watch the metal fittings glint.

“Lorenzo,” she huffed, “is going to swallow his words when he sees this baby. And he’s coming with Draco later this week—they promised to run a few drills with me. I’ll be unstoppable against them.” Her tone was smug, but you only nodded, half-listening.

Meanwhile, Daphne lay on her stomach in the tall grass, your head pillowed on her back. She’d spent the last hour braiding bright wildflowers into flimsy crowns—two perched precariously on your heads, the third already wilted beside Pansy, who cursed every time it slipped off. Daphne flicked a new chain of daisies between her fingers, giggling under her breath at some rumor she’d heard.

“I heard Cho was found snogging Terry Boot on the train ride home,” she announced, her voice lilting with the thrill of gossip. “Not even a week after poor Cedric died, can you believe it?”

A shudder prickled at your arms. Cedric’s death had rattled the whole school, and you still felt uneasy about how the year had ended. You shifted your weight off Daphne, dislodging a few petals. “That’s got to be rubbish,” you muttered, frowning. “Cho wouldn’t move on that fast, surely. She was devastated.”

Daphne shrugged, weaving another blossom through her makeshift crown. “That’s what Astoria heard. From a friend of a friend, she claims.” She sniffed in that way she did when she wanted to sound superior.

Pansy snorted, hugging the broom handle against her chest. “Astoria’s sources are always questionable,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I call bollocks.”

In another world, on another day, you might have teased them both about digging into outlandish rumors. But the knot in your stomach tugged tighter, a creeping sense that haunted you with the talk of death. You cast your gaze toward the sky—blue, bright, with just a hint of humidity that promised a sweltering afternoon. The day felt too perfect, as if something unspoken lurked at the edges.

Trying to ignore the weight in your stomach, you steered the conversation elsewhere: “Have you heard Lyra Nox is releasing a new novel soon? It’s about a woman who falls in love with a charmed portrait.”

Pansy snorted a laugh. “A portrait as the love interest? That’s… creative.”

Daphne giggled, half listening, half braiding. “I’ll skip the reading and wait for your review,” she joked, nose wrinkling in playful distaste.

“I’ll opt out of both.” Pansy deadpanned. You huffed in faux annoyance, reaching over, grabbing a handful of stray wilting daisies, launching them at her.

She grinned at you, “kidding, kidding. Easy Sallow.”

You made a show of tossing a few wilted daisies at Pansy in mock offense. She smirked, swatting them away. The three of you resumed your chatter—about next year’s classes, potential new teachers, Blaise Zabini’s upcoming party, and what you wanted for lunch. The conversation and the bright field nearly lulled you into forgetting the morning’s dread.

Until, you noticed a lone figure emerging from across the field. The shape drew closer, weaving through the tall grass in rushed strides. As it neared, your pulse quickened: Theo. It was definitely Theo, but something about his posture was wrong for such a sunny day. A heaviness radiated off him, like a storm cloud in human form.

He approached, slightly out of breath, hair windblown, and your friends halted their chatter. Pansy stood up a fraction, shielding her eyes against the sun. Daphne paused in her braiding, turning her head so your weight slid off her back. Silence fell.

Theo’s eyes were red at the edges, his mouth pressed into a thin line that barely contained whatever grief lay behind it. Your stomach lurched. Theo rarely displayed emotions so openly in front of others—especially not in front of Pansy and Daphne. The dread inside you knotted further, as if your body already knew what he was about to say.

“Y/n, you need to come home.” he urged softly, glancing at Pansy and Daphne with quick, polite acknowledgement before focusing on you. “Now. Your—it’s urgent.”

Fear spiked hot in your throat. “Is everything… is my mother…?” The question choked off, half-formed.

“We need to go home,” Theo repeated, voice taut. His eyes flicked from you to your friends and back again. He looked… distraught in a way you’d never seen, as if the ground had dropped beneath him. The phrase go home struck a chord of panic. You realized you never wanted to leave the safety of this sunlit field.

“Wh–what’s wrong?” you asked, trying to laugh it off, but fear caught your breath. When he remained silent, you slowly stood, petals tumbling off your lap. Daphne’s crown of wildflowers dropped from her fingers, petals scattering in the grass as she sat up, alarmed, while Pansy clutched her broom handle.

“Just… trust me,” Theo insisted, more hoarse this time. “I—I’ll explain later, okay? We have to go home, now.”

You glanced at Daphne and Pansy, confusion rolling off them in waves. But the dread in Theo’s eyes sealed your decision. “Alright,” you whispered, “Let me just—”

“No,” he cut in, shaking his head. “We need to leave immediately.”

Pansy hugged her broom closer, confusion written across her face. “Hold on—what’s going on?” She demanded, stepping forward. “Theo, you’re scaring us.”

Theo parted his lips, but only managed, “I—I just can’t explain right now.” He caught your arm gently. “We’ve got to go home. Right away.”

Without another word, you allowed him to gently grip your arm, pulling you away from your friends. Shock rooted them in place. Pansy called after you—What’s going on?—but you just shook your head, tears unexpectedly pricking the corners of your eyes. You didn’t know why you felt this sudden wave of sorrow, but the air felt heavier, the sun less bright.

Daphne scrambled to her feet, her half-finished flower crown forgotten. “Wait, Y/N—?”

But Theo gave a final apologetic glance over his shoulder, and the two of you were gone, weaving back through the fields, up the winding path through the overgrown grasses toward the Parkinson Estate. The day felt too bright for tragedy, but dread clawed at your ribcage. You blinked back tears, your breath hitching as you nodded, trusting the urgent plea in Theo’s eyes.

The moment you reached the Floo station inside, your heart hammered out of control. Theo grabbed a handful of powder and swept you into the emerald flames. You clung to his sleeve, a kaleidoscope of color and spinning magic swallowing you until you tumbled out into the drawing room of the Nott estate—your stepfather’s home, which you reluctantly shared.

The abrupt shift from the sun-drenched meadow to this lifeless interior felt like stepping from day into a permanent night when You staggered out, disoriented, gripping Theo for stability.

The drawing room’s silence was a stark contrast to the lively field. At its center stood Narcissa Malfoy, her elegant features drawn tight with concern, and Theodore Nott Sr., whose expression held all the warmth of a gravestone.

A swell of panic rose in your chest, breath hitching. Theo hovered at your side, shoulders trembling in silent grief he tried to bury.

Your stepfather—no, your mother’s husband in name only—met your gaze with chilling indifference. “Your mother,” he said flatly, “died last night.”

A ringing filled your ears. The day’s brightness seemed to vanish from your memory, replaced by icy shock. “No…” you whispered, hardly aware that tears streamed down your cheeks. “That can’t be—there’s no reason—she was fine—”

Narcissa stepped forward, ignoring Nott Sr.’s disapproving scowl. “I’m so sorry, my dear,” she murmured, voice trembling with empathy. She guided you gently from the Floo, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, beckoning Theo in too.

Theodore Nott Sr. cleared his throat. “She arranged for you to spend the night with Miss Parkinson, presumably to spare you the drama of witnessing… the end.”

He spoke without even a glimmer of sympathy, as if narrating the front page of the Daily Prophet. Your mind reeled, refusing to accept the finality of his words. She can’t be gone…

“H-how?” You breathed out. You already had feeling as to how and why, but you wanted to hear it from him.

He sniffed, “complications on the job,” impatiently glancing between the three of you.

It was because of her.

The mad woman that decided to marry your mother off to Nott Sr that stood emotionless in front of you, that had free reign in your house, pulling your mother into the drawing room for hours on end, sending her away at elusive hours of the night, doing gods knows what. Bellatrix Lestrange.

Theo gave a strangled sob, hearing the one that wracked through you loudly, turning his face away, wiping his eyes. You gripped his sleeve needing his presence as much as he needed yours, letting him tug you in his side.

“Emotional displays won’t—” He cleared his throat.

Narcissa, her voice firm, snapped at Nott Sr. “Leave them. Now. They’ve just lost their mother.”

“This is my house, Narcissa,” The older wizard made a dismissive sound. “They’re old enough to keep emotions in check. The times we live in—”

“Get out,” Narcissa repeated, sharp enough that even he winced, her authoritative maternal side shining through. With a roll of his eyes, he strode out, slamming the door behind him, leaving the room colder than before.

In the hush that followed, your tears came in earnest. Narcissa guided you and Theo to a nearby sofa, letting you cling to each other. She summoned tissues, stroking your hair lightly in a gesture that felt heartbreakingly maternal—something your mother could never do again.

You tried to reconcile the morning’s bright sunshine, the warm breeze, the friendly chatter with your friends, with this. The last vestiges of spring now seemed mockingly beautiful, overshadowed by your mother’s sudden absence. She must have known something terrible would happen—why else insist on your sleeping over at the Parkinsons’? The question gnawed at you.

Theo trembled at your side, every muscle tight. You slid an arm around him, drawing him close. Step-siblings, yes, but more than that—friends, companions. Now you were bound by even more shared loss, being there for him when his own mother passed a few years prior. And if Nott Sr. was your only guardian left, you shuddered at the hollowness that awaited you both under his roof.

Narcissa, kneeling by your feet, pressed her hand to yours. “You’re not alone. I’ll help however I can, you two are some of Draco's closest friends.” Her voice wavered, tears bright in her eyes. But she held steady for you, for Theo, gently bridging the gap left by that the cold, malicious man who cared little for either of you.

Outside, the June sun still shone, oblivious to your world’s collapse. You let your head rest against Theo’s shoulder, tears staining his sleeve. The memory of how lovely the day had seemed only hours ago panged in your chest, a cruel reminder that fate offered no warnings.

You still felt the knot of unease you’d woken with, that sense of dread now realized. The breeze you’d thought was gently stirring your hair had, in reality, been a herald of loss.

No matter the brightness of summer, the world looked bleak and gray now, hollowed by grief.

The sunlit day felt like a cruel mockery, each warm ray a glaring reminder of how a bright sky could so easily clash with a dark heart. You sat on the steps leading to Malfoy Manor’s lavish gardens, reading, but your body felt heavy, your mind drifting back to the day your mother died. The recollection threatened to swallow you whole, and you had no energy to resist.

Bellatrix had held you in her claws for most of the day—torturing you in every way possible except actually casting the Cruciatus Curse. You suspected she was saving that particular brand of agony for a later date. You stared at your tender hands, welts from her punishments forming red and raw across your knuckles. They pulsed with each heartbeat, a physical echo of the emotional storm churning within.

It hadn’t been physical violence alone; she forced you to “charm” a mirror, an exercise that turned your stomach. The mirror displayed a rotating gallery of men—some young, some old and unsavory—teaching you how to coax and manipulate them with your Veela magic. That memory made you feel unclean, as if your soul were smeared by something far more insidious than a simple bruise.

You’d rather have endured a hundred more blows than endure that humiliating “lesson” again. Yet here you were, in broad daylight, the beautiful summer mocking your pain.

At last, the manor’s door opened behind you, footsteps on stone drawing your attention. You glanced up, shielding your eyes from the sun, spotting Theo stepping outside with Mattheo in tow. Both wore suits—dark, meticulously tailored, each cuff hiding the marks that chained them to the Dark Lord’s bidding. They looked weary, but they managed half-smiles, as they talked animatedly about something.

“Columba,” Theo called gently, that old nickname he’d used for you since you were kids. He approached with caution, Mattheo lagging behind like a silent sentinel.

“Ready to go home?” Theo asked, offering a hand to help you stand.

The word home jarred you. Home might as well have been a crypt these days, the Nott Manor empty except for house-elves who scurried about on edge, rarely speaking. You forced a nod, sliding your bruised hand into Theo’s. Pain shot through your fingers, but you let him lift you.

He froze when he saw the injuries marring your skin. “Gods, Y/N… she did this?” he whispered hoarsely, a flare of anger in his eyes. Over his shoulder, you saw Mattheo tense as he peered over his friend’s shoulder, running a hand through his curls before letting it drop to his side, frustration emanating off him in waves suddenly.

You shrugged, trying to sound calm. “I wasn’t doing well enough, apparently.”

Mattheo let out a hollow laugh. “How hard is it to twirl your hair and bat your lashes at someone, exactly?”

Your temper flickered, turning your gaze on him. “It’s more than that, you twat.”

He shot you a look, jaw clenching. “More than enough to get beaten for?” His dark eyes glinted with incredulity, but beneath the sarcasm you caught the faintest glimmer of concern. “Please, enlighten me.”

They’d never understand, not fully, not when you hadn’t even understood barely—the art of charming guarded men, of coaxing out secrets with a coy turn of phrase, all while Bellatrix delighted in your squeamishness. The memory of that mirror and those endless faces made your stomach churn.

“Lay off it, Matty,” you muttered, brushing his shoulder lightly as you passed him to reach the door with Theo.

Mattheo stayed put. You glanced back to see him rooted to the spot, arms rigid, eyes locked on the horizon as if waging an internal war. Theo stopped by the threshold, keeping a gentle hold on you. “You coming back, Mate?” he asked, trying for a casual tone.

“Nah,” Mattheo exhaled, glancing over at the hand Theo rested on your back. “Go ahead. I have a couple things to tend to.” His voice sounded distant, any previous good mood lost.

You rolled your eyes with a touch of exasperation. Lately, this was the version of Mattheo you always got: cold, distant, and bitterly brooding. “Fine,” you said sharply, words cutting more than you meant. “We’ll see you at Zabini’s party later, yeah?”

He raised his hand in a noncommittal wave, turning away to pace near the garden steps. You half-wanted to call him back, to tell him you needed him at the manor just as much as Theo, that you despised him for being so frigid but also respected his reasons for it. But your body ached, and your heart was too drained for another confrontation or his dejected attitude.

Theo gently guided you inside, toward the Floo station. You cradled your bruised hand, stepping into the emerald flames with your stepbrother by your side. Home. The concept twisted in your mind like a knife, the echo of your mother’s demise still haunting your chest.

taglist: @moonlightttfae

A/N: I love a good broody Matthew and a protective Theo, anyone else? I quite literally thrive off of it, and platonic scenes between the Slytherin gang. Anyways, feedback, likes, weblogs are always appreciated. And lmk if you want to be added to the tag list!

#joy to the works ✨#mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle fanfic #mattheo riddle x you #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x you #mattheo riddle imagine #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #bloodsport masterlist

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sk1fanfiction · 1 month ago

Note

(ch. 15 review) — it’s the way i kept trying to prolong this chapter 😭 anyway. i love inconvenienced tom (i’m sure dumbledore does too) like it’s so him to sleep way after curfew but complain about being called to do something during his “sleep time” and then i love how absolutely irritated he is once he enters dumbledores office and sees his two nightmares — harry & mini abraxas reincarnate being there. him using a silencing spell and dumbledore lowkey approving is just hilarious, harry’s a bit too loud for everyone’s taste apparently. i seem to have forgotten that voldemort is gorgeous? but did malfoy not clock the identical faces?… also tom riddle experiencing empathy??? and for abraxas’ clone?? oh dumbledore (and maybe ruby) what have you done to the poor guy ! the parvati and lavender fight… that’s so sad i know she’s in love with her but saying mean things to your friends is never nice and i feel so bad for lavender bc yes she’s a bit boy obsessed (although tbf cedric is beautiful) she’s still a good friend and she’s just a teenage girl !! also ruby doing nothing to help, i feel you girl, it’s awkward getting between two close friends arguments. i also did not realise that draco and pansy were officially dating oops. ALSO DAPHNE AND ANTHONY?? i did not expect that at all idkw but personally i’m thinking good riddance oops, jk but i don’t mind them together but poor ruby she’s a bit confused and bitter (although there is a perfectly handsome single guy who is literally in a blood vow to protect her so, she shouldn’t be too disheartened idk). nice to see blaise getting complimented on his bone structure yearly, it’s quite phenomenal. HARRY AND CHO MY CUTIES, he’s a little awkward and nervous but he’s got the spirit !! lastly that note… i’m wondering who wrote it and i’m leaning towards tom bc of their conversation in the forest when she ran away and also his affinity for participating in writing things for the potters during valentines. ooh and nott is such a dick i kind of love that for him.

I ended up prolonging this chapter to >7k to wrap up dangling plot threads so that's valid (the next one that I accidentally posted earlier is more normal length -- that'll be up on Sunday after I proofread it).

That's on me for giving Tom one of my most unserious habits (pretending to 'go to bed early' so people won't bother you for three hours). Harry is definitely (canonically) too loud (controversial but I like OOTP CAPS-LOCK!Harry). Truly the stuff of nightmares.

Malfoy (nor anyone else who has seen them both, like Narcissa) did indeed not clock the identical faces (Clark Kent effect, ig).

Also I haven't given Voldemort a physical description except for his red eyes in a while (since Three Can Keep A Secret, I think?). That is on purpose, because I couldn't decide whether or not I wanted OG/Snake Face Voldemort. But I came to the conclusion that (I think this is canonically correct?) he got the snake attributes from the regeneration potion in GOF, and in RFMD he gets regenerated by the Elixir of Life, and then Jadis from Narnia lives rent-free in my brain and I was thinking about that scene from The Magician's Nephew where she eats the forbidden apple or whatever, which makes her Beautiful in An Eldritch Way and decided to go with that...

Tom?? Experiencing empathy?? He begs to differ and says it is totally for strategic reasons.

Honestly, I do feel bad for making them fight :( Lavender is a good friend (will never get off my Justice for Lavender Brown soapbox) but the whole situation is just so messy. If I were Ruby I wouldn't know how to intervene either.

I was never sure if Draco and Pansy dated in canon, but I decided, what the hell, I've never done a proper Valentine's Day chapter before, so, why not. And on the note of Daphne and Anthony yeah that was intentional blindsiding (I think the only times they were seen together were Ancient Runes class and the junk shop and both were Ruby-centric things). Confused and bitter -- that's exactly why I said jealousy, jealousy is required listening for this chapter (for Parvati, too).

There is a perfectly handsome single guy who is literally in a blood vow to protect her

👀

I can't decide who would be more horrified by this proposition.

Blaise loves that for himself, too. I was re-reading OOTP to figure out Harry and Cho and then I realised that their #1 pastime is actually talking about sports 🤦🏾‍♀️

Of course it's Tom. Who else lives in the intersection of loving to fuck with people and misuse stationery for nefarious purposes?

#asks #mimi #<3

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