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pepper-up-potion · 4 years ago

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Humor me (George Weasley x fem!reader)

Summary: Reader can't stand George Weasley but over time she realizes he might be a good addition to her life.

Warnings: crying, angst, let me know if I missed any.

Word count: 5.5k (this is my longest fic so far!)

A/n: I still don't know how to feel about this. A part of me likes it and a part of me feels it could be better. This is my first enemies to lovers and it was very very fun.

———

“Thanks (y/n)! I can always count on you, you’re a lifesaver.” Shouts Neville as he runs down the hall and towards his next class. (Y/n) had helped him put healing salve and a bandage on his cut hand.

“Anytime!” She smiles as she watches him stumble away. She pulls out her book and sits back down on the windowsill.

“Humour me.” Says a foreign voice.

She looks up frowning. “I’m sorry?” She asks politely.

“When was the last time you did something for yourself?” Asks the red-haired boy.

“What are you talking about? I’m doing that right now.” She points to her book: Charms for first years

“That’s weird because I could’ve sworn you were in my charms class and not in first year.” He argues, shoving his hand in his pockets and clicking his tongue.

“Well I’m helping out a first-year next period but I enjoy doing that so I am doing something for myself.” She explains, slightly irritated.

“You can’t be serious?” He waits but she offers no response. She only lifts her nose at him. “That is not taking time for yourself. That’s preparing to help someone else.”

Her nostrils flare as she abruptly snaps her books shut. She shoves it into her bag before swinging it over her shoulder. She steps towards George. She suddenly realizes how tall he is. She gulps before placing a hand on her hip and pointing a finger at him.

“Listen here, helping other people is a very noble thing and if I wish to spend my free time doing that, I should not have to explain myself.”

“Ah, so you admit that you spend your free time helping other people rather than doing something for yourself?”

George smirks at her and she wants to slap it off his stupid pretty face.

“Wha-? No.” She huffs. “I don’t know why I’m arguing this with someone I hardly know but what I mean to say is that yes, it’s demanding and tedious but it’s also rewarding and the most gratifying thing I could ever do, so I believe I am doing something for myself. You just don’t get it because you spend all your time playing stupid pranks on everyone.” She snaps before pulling the strap of her bag further onto her shoulder and walking away. Normally she would feel bad for saying something like that to someone but for some reason she felt George could take it.

“So when will I see you again?” George shouts down the hall.

“I have to go!” She shouts back.

“I’ll see you in class then. Or maybe in the halls again.” He continues.

“Goodbye!” She turns the corner and speeds as far away from George as possible, steam practically fuming from her ears.

———

“Hey (y/n) could I just copy your homework before class? I didn’t have time to do it what with quidditch practice and all.” Asks Angelina.

(Y/n) nods and pulls out her answers, stands and walks to her seat, passing them to her. As (y/n) walks back she sees George slide into the spot next to hers. She grunts before stomping to her seat.

“ ‘Morning.” He sings, kicking his feet on the desk. She rolls her eyes and pushes his feet off, offering no other greeting. Now this is saying something, (y/n) always greets everybody. He laughs a little before turning to his bag and pulling out his textbook.

“Ark, couldn’t you go sit somewhere else?” She asks with a look of disgust.

George shrugs his shoulders. “Yeah, I could, but I’d like to think we’d make a good team and I’d like to test that theory.” He waves a pointed index as if to emphasize his point.

She shudders at the thought of having to work with him. It’s very likely they will, it often happens in potions class. (Y/n) is at the top of the class and she doubts Snape would have any objection to George working with her since she could easily bring up his grade. She sighs as Snape walks in and starts the lecture portion of the class.

“You will have the remaining hour to make your hiccoughing solution. Work with the person next to you.” With a wave of his arms everyone starts opening their textbook and discussing the potion.

To her surprise, George is really good at potions. Logically it makes sense because him and Fred are always creating new things but she never really thought it transferable to school. She watches, a little stunned as George quickly and skillfully goes through the steps of the potion. For the first time since she can last remember, she sits back instead of running the group. George occasionally asks her to cut something or extract oil from a root. She doesn’t argue, it’s sort of nice being told what to do rather than making all the decisions. She doesn’t tell him and refuses to think more of it because that’s not her proper role. She’s the leader, she’s the helper. Maybe this once she’ll let it slide, give herself a break.

Once the bell rings they gather their books and George finally speaks of other things than the potion.

“Relaxing isn’t it?” She tilts her head in confusion. “Not having to take care of others for once.” He continues.

Oh no he didn’t. He just ruined it. He took her small guilty moment of peace and crushed it. “You hardly let me do anything! What was I supposed to do? Fight you?”

George shrugs. “You could’ve.” He winks at her and she lets out an angry moan.

“Ark!” She turns on her heels and walks out of the class without another word.

“Same time next week?” She hears him shout but she’s already in the hallway and simply ignores him.

———

“You know you could give that to a house-elf and they could take care of that for you.” Says George as he leans into the door frame and watches (y/n) clean the chalkboard in the defence against the dark arts classroom.

“Well I don’t need to be taken care of, I’m perfectly capable of doing things on my own thank you very much” she spits back at him.

George and her are acquaintances at best. It’s been a month since they’ve first spoken to each other. Since then he seems to always be around her. Sitting next to her in class, offering to help her with her books in the hall. She’s never asked for him to be there or to share his opinion. Yet he’s there and very verbal about his thoughts.

He steps into the class and sits in the front row. He bounces his leg under the desk and leans back into the chair. He looks nervous but she can tell he’s trying to cover it up.

“What are you doing here?” She asks, curiosity getting the best of her.

“Waiting for Umbridge.” He points up the stairs at the closed door of her office. “I got detention.” He adds.

“What did you do?” She stops cleaning the board and sets the cleaning potion on the desk next to George.

“Gave a ton tongue toffee to Filch. His tongue was four feet long when Umbridge found him.” He chuckles to himself, remembering Umbridge’s reaction.

For the first time ever, (y/n) laughs in front of George. She tries to hold it in but it slips past her. George first looks surprised but soon he’s laughing with her.

“Glad to see someone is standing up to them.” She shakes her head. “Umbridge really is a horrible person. I can't believe all the mean things she’s doing to the students.” Her face is sad. George can see how much she cares for the other students.

“Well, would you look at that? We actually agree on something.” He crosses his arms and smirks at her. “Does this mean we're friends?” He asks.

She barks out a loud laugh. “Don’t get ahead of yourself Weasley.” She grabs her bag and walks out without another word. She can feel George’s gaze following her until she steps into the hall and out of sight. She wonders why her cheeks feel so hot suddenly.

———

(Y/n) is tutoring Seamus Finnigan in the library. They’re whispering over a book when George spots them. He smiles and beelines for their table.

“Mind if I sit here.” He asks, holding onto the chair in front of them. They both look up at him. Seamus smiles and reaches out his hand for a fist bump. (Y/n) rolls her eyes and sticks her tongue out.

“Yeah mate, it’s no problem.” Says Seamus.

“No, you may not. It is very much a problem.” She hisses. Seamus looks at her, shocked by the bitterness in her voice.

“Blimey (y/n), I’ve never heard you so angry before.” He stuns.

She laughs nervously. He’s right, she normally doesn’t talk to people like that. The only exception to the rule is George. She grits her teeth and pastes a smile before looking at George.

“Of course you can sit here George. Any friend of Seamus is a friend of mine.” She somehow manages to sound sweet and somewhat sincere. George raises his eyebrows in surprise. He quickly recollects himself and takes a seat before she changes her mind.

“So, going back to charms. Can you tell me the definition of the substantive charm?” She asks Seamus.

“How long have you been doing this?” George interrupts.

Seamus grabs (y/n)’s arm and reads her watch. He whistles dramatically. “Crickey, it’s been an hour and fifteen minutes. I think we should call it a day.” He grabs his book and bag and gets up. “Thanks again (y/n). See you next week.” And with that, he was off.

(Y/n)’s jaw clenches as she looks from the now empty chair to George.

“Why?” She groans. “Why would you do that?”

“This is great. He got his help and you get a break. What do you say we go down to the dungeon and pull a prank on Malfoy?” He beams at her, pleased with his idea.

She gets the sudden urge to scream. Who does he think he is? Coming into her life and ruining everything. It is quite likely that Seamus won't do as well on the quiz as if he had stayed for the extra fifteen minutes she had planned and now she has to go deal with Hermione who wanted to rant about Ron. Something which she had very much been putting off. She takes a long, deep breath before looking at George again. The urge to scream has faded with the breath but the look on his face makes her see red.

“Could you please, please, find someone else to annoy. I don’t have time for this and you’re really starting to test my patients.” She pleads.

George’s face drops, evidently displeased by her response. He stands from his chair and puts his bag strap over his shoulder.

“Alright, I’ll leave.” He surrenders. There is a pause like he’s debating between leaving or adding another word. To (y/n)’s dissatisfaction, he continues to speak. “Anytime you need someone who doesn’t need help tutoring or homework to copy or healing salve, you know where to find me.”

She laughs loudly making everyone turn to look at her. “Pff yeah okay.” She dismisses, and with that George is turning away and walking out of the library.

She hates the sad feeling that settles in her chest. It’s like it’s telling her she wants him to stay. She rolls her eyes and swears to herself, gathering her things and heading to Hermione’s aid.

No matter how hard she tries not to, she spends the rest of the day thinking about George. His stupid face keeps popping into her head. What does he know? She likes when people ask for help. She is happy being the person people can turn to. She can’t understand what George thinks is wrong with that. Maybe he’s just a horrible person. It’s much easier to tell herself than to think there could be something wrong with her.

———

A week later (y/n) is knocking on Susan Bones’ door and stepping in before hearing a welcome.

“Merlin! I can’t stand him!” She shouts once in her best friend’s dorm room. Susan looks up from her book with her brows knitted.

“Who?” She asks while shutting her book and sitting up.

“George!” She states looking at Susan like she should have known. She shows no sign of further understanding (y/n)’s dilemma.

“Why?” She asks hesitantly. (Y/n) stomps to Susan’s bed and plops onto it.

“First he’s everywhere meddling into my life like it’s his business and now, radio silence.” She adds nothing more, leaving Susan even more confused.

“And that’s a problem because…”

(Y/n) sits up and flails her arms in the air. “Well, why did he make me question myself like that and then just vanish?” She exclaims exasperated.

Susan gapes, further confused. “But, didn’t you ask him to leave you alone?”

“Ark! That’s not the point!” She gets up and stomps out of the room. Susan blinks and looks around the room stunned even though there is no one to share the confusion with.

A moment later (y/n) is back into the room. “What on earth did he mean by if ever you want someone who doesn’t need help, you know where to find me?” She puts her hands on her hips and waits for her friend’s answer. Susan’s eyes light up and she smiles slightly. Now it’s (y/n)’s turn to look confused.

“He said that?” Asks Susan with a hopeful tone.

“Wha- I- Well yes he did but-.” She stops. Susan has left her stunned, she’s too confused to debate.

Susan’s smile grows wider. “Have you heard about Dombledors army?” She asks.

(Y/n) scrunches her nose. “No. What does that have to do with this?”

“Well I think you should come to our next meeting.” Her smile is mischievous, (y/n) hates it.

———-

The next day Susan takes (y/n) to the seventh floor. She stops in the middle of the hall and passes back and forth in front of a stone wall. Soon a door appears in front of them and (y/n) smiles, amazed by the castle's secrets.

Susan is the first to walk in waving at a few people near the door. Once (y/n) follows through the room goes silent. Harry finally walks up to them, hand stretched out.

“Welcome to the army.” He says confidently. She looks to Susan who gives her an encouraging nod. She finally accepts Harry’s hand with a small yet nervous smile.

As she looks around the room she feels a pair of eyes on her. She turns to find George looking at her with a neutral face. She lets out a little screech and turns back to Susan.

“You didn’t tell me he was going to be here!” (Y/n) whispers with a panicked tone.

“Well if I did you wouldn’t have come.” She states simply before walking off to talk with one of the other girls.

“Alright everyone. I think we’ll get started.” Announces Harry. Everyone goes quiet and they quickly form a half-circle around him. She sees a tall man settle next to her in her peripheral. She can just make out a flash of red hair. Her heart starts beating at an unruly pace.

“Today’s focus is on stunning. Nigel and I are going to do a demonstration so watch closely.” Everyone moves to the sides of the room whispering excitedly.

(Y/n) claps her hand over her mouth as she watches Harry fly backwards after being stunned by Nigel. She lets out a relieved sigh when Harry sits back up.

“I’d like to see you do that.” Whispers George into her ear. She jumps a little as his hot breath on her neck sends a shiver down her spine.

She turns to look at him. She has no snarky answer. She just gapes at him in surprise.

“I’d like to see you stand up for yourself for once.” He adds. She huffs in shock.

“I-“ She starts but Harry cuts her off. “Who wants to go next?” He asks.

“(Y/n) and I will go.” Announces George. She freezes as everyone eyes them curiously.

“Maybe someone else would like to go before us.” She tries.

“Nonsense, go on (y/n).” Says Harry enthusiastically. “No one here will judge you.” He adds thinking that’s her concern.

It’s not that she didn’t want to defend herself, it’s just she felt sort of bad stunning someone. She wasn’t sure she had it in her to do it. She walks to one end of the room and George to the other. He stretches out his arm, wand at the ready. She looks at Susan with a pleading look. Susan gives her an impatient nod and (y/n) reluctantly lifts her wand.

Neither of them moves, the room is completely silent. Soon there are whispers in the crowd. George is looking at (y/n) with a challenging eye. She gulps, trying to convince herself to stun him. She thinks that maybe if she does nothing he’ll grow impatient and stun her. That way she wouldn’t have to do it and he wouldn’t get the satisfaction of getting what he really wants.

“Right, any second now. Go ahead.” Says Harry slowly.

Nothing happens. George slumps out of his stans and raises his arms in the air. “Oh c’mon (y/n) stun me!” He exclaims.

She looks at the crowd as they all stare back at her. She suddenly feels weak in the knees. She begins to sweat nervously and looks at Susan. She looks a little concerned, maybe thinking this wasn’t as good an idea as she first thought. She still gives her a weak encouraging smile and a little thumbs up. (Y/n) looks back at George who has his arms stretched out taunting her.

“Oh for once in your life be mean!” He shouts. The words echo in the room.

“I can be plenty mean!” She disputes. “Last week, I ate Susan’s cookie.” She adds, puffing her chest.

George tries to hold back his smile. She hears a couple giggles in the crowd.

“That is not mean.” His tone is adoring and she hates it.

“It was her favourite brand.” She adds trying to make it sound more horrific. She’s the only one in the room with a serious face. Everyone else is smiling enjoying the tense exchange between the two.

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “If it’s anything, it’s cute.” He says with a wink. There it is. There’s the final straw. She can feel her blood boil. Everyone holds their breath as they watch her face contort into an angry pout. George smiles wide thinking the pout is possibly the cutest thing he’s ever seen.

She lets out an angry grunt. “It is not cute! You wanna see cute? Watch this.” She flicks her wand and shouts: “Stupify!” The spell sends George across the room. Everyone exclaims as he hits the ground with a thud.

“Excellent! Really good (y/n)!” Exclaims Harry.

Across the room George is whooping. He runs over to her with arms wide open. His smile is contagious, she can’t stop hers from pulling at her cheeks. Laughs spill from her lips as he wraps her tightly into his arms. Fred helps George throw her over their shoulders. Everyone gathers around them and cheers. (Y/n) feels her cheeks go hot suddenly, very aware of George’s hand on her thigh keeping her in place. She looks at everyone’s happy smiles and she can't help but join in. She hates to admit it but George might have been right. Standing up for yourself can feel good.

———

It’s a Wednesday evening. Most people were already back in their common rooms. (Y/n) was walking back from the library, having finished another tutoring session with Zacharias Smith. The halls are practically deserted when she suddenly hears quiet sobs further away. She speeds her pace and turns the corner finally spotting a little boy crying quietly while holding his hand. Two older boys are kneeling next to him. Her breath hitches when she spots him. George hasn’t talked to her since their duel. She would sometimes catch his eye across the classroom or in the dining hall but this is the first time she’s run into him. George is rubbing circles on the boy's upper back as he whispers sweet comforting phrases to the crying boy. As she steps closer she recognizes the boy to be Michael. She has helped him countless times after he has gotten detention from Umbridge.

Looking at George now she questions how she once called him a horrible person. She sighs accepting she might have been too quick to judge. She steps between the Weasleys and kneels down at Micheal’s feet so they're at eye level. She looks through her big bag before pulling out some gauze and a small glass jar of healing salve. Micheal gives her his hand, remembering the drill. She quietly applies the salve and wraps his hand. She listens to George explain to Micheal how soon the pain will subside. She notices he never stops rubbing circles on the boy's back. There’s something reassuring about the movement and she’s not even the one receiving it.

Micheal takes a deep breath, recollecting himself. He looks between George and (y/n) before smiling mischievously.

“Thanks mom, dad.” He tips his head to each before getting up and walking to his dorm. George’s hand stays frozen in the air even if there’s no longer a back to rub. (Y/n) stops screwing the lid to her salve as she looks at the now empty seat. They both jump when Fred starts howling with laughter. His laughs echo down the hall as he doubles over himself, holding his aching stomach. He wipes at his eyes and sighs loudly.

“Good one kid.” He shouts though Michael is much too far to hear it. “Ah! That’s golden.” He adds before he walks off in the same direction as Micheal did before.

George and (y/n) remain frozen. (Y/n)’s face is pale and George's cheeks are tomato red. (Y/n) is the first to move, she finishes screwing on the lid and shoving it into her bag. She’s in a hurry to get out of this very awkward situation. She shoots a look at George who moved from the floor and onto the bench. He’s leaning back onto the wall with his arms crossed. He smirks when she meets his eyes.

“We would have some cute kids.” His tone is teasing but there’s still something soft and affectionate in the statement.

“Oh honestly George, get a grip.” She rolls her eyes and walks away quickly. It takes all her willpower to hold in her smile until her back is turned to George. He’s not wrong she thinks to herself.

——-

She knocks lightly on the dorm room door. She can hear George’s loud laugh on the other side. She hopes he won’t be mad at her for interrupting the fun. Lee opens the door and the smile on his face is quickly replaced by a look of surprise.

“(Y/n)?” He stuns. The laughter in the room stops abruptly. She hears shuffling and soon George is peaking his head over Lee’s shoulder.

Lee quickly moves out of the way and George looks at her with a concerned look.

“(Y/n)? What are you doing here? Is everything okay?” He asks looking around to make sure there is no one else listening.

“I’m sorry to bother you, I know you were having fun there.” She feels pretty stupid now that she’s actually standing in front of him. George shakes his head vigorously to tell her it’s no problem.

“I just-“ she runs a hand through her hair. “I sort of need someone who doesn’t need help with tutoring or homework or healing salve.” The offer is months old. They haven’t even talked in weeks. She never thought she’d actually take him up on it but she didn’t know who else to turn to.

His shoulders drop and a natural smile spreads across his face. “Well then I’m your guy.” He closes the door behind him and guides her down the stairs and into the common room. It’s late, most students are in bed. George asks the few left if they could give them some privacy and they all retreat to their rooms.

“What’s up?” He asks, shoving his hands into his pockets.

She sighs and walks over to the big red couch. She sits down and buries her head into her hands. “I- I’m so tired George.” Her voice is laced with despair. “There’s just so much to do and I’m trying, I really am but I just don't know if I have it in me.”

George sits next to her, so close that their knees touch. “What are all the things you need to do?” He asks softly.

“I have to run the potions club and make that banner for the Ancient Runes Club. I have to tutor Hannah and Seamus and Zacharias and so many other people. I have to make sure Lavender is okay and that Luna found her socks. I have to listen to Hermione and Ginny talk about their boy problems and then give them advice. I have to write back to my parents and help them with their problems. I have to help McGonagall with the rat problem because no one else wants to. Madame Pomfrey said I could intern with her but that means I have to spend ten hours a week in the hospital wing. I told professor Sprout I’d help her extract pus from Bubotuber. I promised Colin I would look out for Dennis and I haven't even seen him in weeks.” It all spills out. For the first time ever she is totally transparent about her problems. “And then I have to worry about my own studies and try and keep my grades up and there’s the stress of Dumbledore’s army, what if we get caught?” She’s panting by the end suddenly feeling much lighter.

“Well maybe you could say no to a couple people. I’m sure the Ancient Runes Club can wait for a sign, Mcgonagall can take care of the rats on her own. You can say no you know.” He places a hand on her thigh and looks deep into her eyes.

“But- I can’t George! I can't say no. Those people are counting on me. What if the clubs fall apart or Seamus’ grades drop or Luna never finds her socks.” Her face is panicked.

“Let me help you.” He says it so softly. She feels a dry lump in her throat. Her jaw suddenly hurts and she feels tears well up in her eyes.

“I don’t want your help George!” She jumps off the couch and onto her feet. George’s hand slips off her thigh and onto the couch. It looks limp and sad without her leg to hold it. “I don’t need you, I was doing perfectly fine before you came around and I’ll be fine without you moving forward.” There’s a pause. “ I didn’t come here for you to save the day.” There it is. She doesn’t want to appear weak. She thinks asking for help makes her weak.

George stands up, towering over her. “Fine. If that’s how you feel then I’ll leave. I will go for good and you won’t have to worry about me meddling in your life anymore. I just want you to know that I’m offering to help because I can see how hard this is for you and I think you deserve more than what you’ve granted yourself.” George steps forward closing the gap. “I think you deserve to be taken care of for a change.” They’re inches away from each other. His face suddenly turns soft as he looks into her tear-filled eyes.

There’s a silent pause. She looks into George’s eyes and she sees the honesty, the care, the love. George is there for her when no one else is. He’s right, she is having a hard time and he’s the one offering the help. No one else. All the other people she has sworn would help her, be there for her, aren’t there. But how could they have known? She never tells them how hard it is, always caring for others. She never asks for their help. It’s not that those people don’t care. She just never opens up to them. She never permits them to be anything else than people she could help. All she ever did was give and give. She never believed she should do anything else. George is the first person who wants her to take, not give. It finally clicks. Everything that George has been trying to make her see is crystal clear now.

A tear spills from down her cheek and she feels her knees go weak. She cups her hand over her mouth trying to hold in a sob. She takes a step back shaking her head in denial. George’s face remains soft but there’s concern in his eyes.

“Hey.” He tilts his head, maintaining eye contact as she tries to look away. “It’s okay.” He pulls her towards his chest and she welcomes it. She falls into his arms as more tears fall down her cheeks. “Let it out.” He says.

With that permission (y/n) cries. She cries like never before. Loud sobs slip from her lips as her body shakes in George’s arms. She cries about all the sad secrets people have confided in her. She cries for all the days she sacrificed for others. She cries for all the “I love that you never say no”. She cries for all the grades she sacrificed to keep others high. She lets out years of pent-up tears, of hurt.

He rubs small circles on her upper back and remains quiet. She was right, there relay is something reassuring about those little circles. She cries for an hour and George never moves, never speaks, never stops her.

Finally, she sniffles her last tear and steps out of George’s arms. He reluctantly lets her go but takes her hand in his. She pulls it away to wipe at her eyes.

“Thank you.” Her voice is so delicate she would be embarrassed if it weren’t George in front of her. She laughs suddenly and George looks shocked. She soon starts crying of laughter and George gapes unsure of what to do.

“Are you okay?” He asks confused.

“I just, I hate you.” She laughs again. George looks stunned. He takes a step away from her and opens his mouth to say something but she cuts him off.

“Or so I thought. You have bugged me every day for months yet there’s no one I want here more than you.” George takes a tentative step forward. The words seem to give him confidence. “As crazy as it sounds I’ve had some of the best times talking with you because I actually said what I wanted to say. You can handle me better than anyone else. You challenge me in a way that I absolutely hate but I know why you’re doing it. You’re helping me learn to take care of myself and that’s hard because it’s something I’ve never done before.” She stops for a moment. The look in her eyes changes. First, there’s shock as she realizes. Then there’s a soft and happy glow. “I think I’m falling in love with you George.” She gasps. It’s almost a whisper. She barely wants to admit it.

“Come here.” Is all he says. She doesn’t move. Her brows knit themselves as she searches his face for an explanation. She takes a deep breath. The step towards him feels like a trust fall. He gently pulls her closer by the waist. He presses his forehead to hers. (Y/n) pushes her nose to his, bringing their lips closer to one another. He repeats the movement.

They tease each other a couple more times before George whispers “Can I kiss you?” She nods slowly and whispers a yes. He tips his head so their lips connect. His soft lips send sparks down her spine. George wraps an arm up to her back and pulls her closer quickly deepening the kiss. She wraps her arms around his next and soon her hands tangle into his fiery red hair. It feels like rain after a dry summer, like the cold side of her pillow, like the warm fire after coming in from the cold, it feels like heaven. Nothing has ever felt more right than their lips pressed together and for once, she’s giving in to what she wants.

When George pulls away she finds herself chasing his lips. She pouts a little missing the kiss. George runs a hand over her hair and looks at her adoringly.

“I’m falling for you too (y/n)”

#george weasley #george x reader #george weasley x reader #george weasley x fem!reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley x y/n #george imagine

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houseofhollows · 3 years ago

Note

Hi! Do you think you could write something for Harry X Reader? For some kinda idea, I was thinking that you could use- “I can’t do this without you.” -Harry

“Promise me!” -reader.

Something like the two are talking about the what ifs during the war and Reader makes him promise that if she is killed or taken that he cannot come after her. Since he has a job to do. If you wouldn’t mind writing so much, maybe even include a bit of angst of torture from her being taken? The rest I would leave to you. Feel free to decline but thank you if you do write it!

promise me

pairing: Harry Potter x reader

warnings: angst, torture, death

author's note: i fkn love angst so much and i feel i write it better than other kinds of fics so this was fun (other than torturing you, sorry about that).

The war had actually arrived. The signs had been clear from the start, but it still came as a shock to most students that they were to fight for their lives; for a person a majority of them didn’t actually know. No one had believed Harry when he said Voldemort was back, sending him glares in the halls and spreading rumors because they thought he was ill.

Harry had just been trying to look out for everyone. With Voldemort back, the entirety of the Wizarding community was in danger, yet the headlines in the Daily Prophet were calling him a liar. Bad things were happening.

Y/N could remember her first year at Hogwarts, being entranced by the beauty of it. It was alive then. The chatter of students made the massive castle feel more comfortable. The soft golden light of the candles brightened the usually dark corridors. The sun seemed to come out more.

Now, the whole world was scary and ominous. The castle seemed like a prison, especially with Snape as headmaster. Clouds took over the sky, enveloping the world in grey. Even the Wizarding towns were being abandoned.

Death eaters lurked in every corner. Black cloaks blending into the black alleys. One wrong move from anyone and they were punished in a variety of ways, usually by Voldemort himself.

Y/N and Harry sat in the tent, silently listening to the radio. Hermione had gone to bed and Ron was still roaming in the forest somewhere.

The radio cracked as Harry turned the nob, trying for a different station. The only light that was on was casting a shadow over his face, obscuring half of his tired features. All four of them had deep and dark eye bags, dry skin, pale faces. That’s what happens when you spend your time looking for Horcruxes that aren’t meant to be found. Such little sleep. Lucky if you are able to eat at least a meal a day.

Harry had wanted to search on his own. He kept persisting in the idea that it was his fight. But they all knew he wouldn’t be able to do it alone.

“What if something happens, you know, to me?” Harry spoke quietly, his eyes on the floor.

“You have the whole school and many others that will fight for you, you know we won’t let that happen,” Y/N tried to assure him, though she was mostly saying it to herself.

“But they shouldn’t have to fight for me. I’m the reason for all this mess.”

“You can’t blame yourself for Voldemort. He’s psychotic and will stop at nothing to see you dead. That’s why we are doing it for you, Harry. You don’t deserve to die in the hands of someone like him.”

“What if something happens to you? Or Hermione, or Ron? I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”

“We are strong, Harry. Our own strengths and our need to protect you will save us. I know it will.”

“If something happens to you,” Harry sighed and closed his eyes. “I can’t do this without you.”

“I need you to promise me that no matter what happens, you keep fighting. You have a job to do.”

“Y/N, I can’t do tha-”

“Promise me, Harry!” she raised her voice. It scared him. She was the calm one in the group. Her voice was always soft and filled with love even in times of distress.

Even during this time.

“Um, I promise,” Harry replied hesitantly.

She gave him a look.

“I promise.”

Her smile was small and tired. Though he hated it, Harry’s biggest wish was to have never met her. She didn’t deserve to be surrounded by such darkness.

Hogwarts had fallen to rubble. Cobble lay in heaps in all corners, broken wands scattered throughout the castle. It had Y/N crying. The place she once called home was now being demolished by the evilness Voldemort had created. The Death Eaters were as vile as him, smiling as they threw killing curses at children.

She was alone. Hermione and Ron had gone off somewhere. Harry had been gone for a while.

If you had told first year Y/N that in her seventh year she would be hiding in a corner of the castle from a Death Eater, she would have laughed. Because the idea of such a thing ever occurring in such a happy place never seemed possible.

Yet she stands behind a knight in an attempt to conceal herself from one of the most vicious Death Eaters she’s ever seen. Her hand covers her mouth to stop the sobs that needed to erupt. Her wand placed in front of her chest.

In a moment like that one, she knew the killing curse was an acceptable option, but she wouldn’t be able to do it even if her mind and heart told her to.

Her eyes widened as he walked up to her, three more Death Eaters trailing behind him. The world stopped, an aching feeling building up in every part of her body. It physically hurt, knowing you were about to die.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t stealthy enough. She had tried to move but only ended up falling to the floor as her legs gave out from pure fear. They laughed wickedly, happy to have another piece of meat to chew on.

She let out a sob as she tried to scoot away, knowing it was no use.

“No, no. Please,” she asked with so much desperation.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be quick,” one of them said with a smile, rotten teeth flashing.

All four of them got out their wands and nodded at each other. A chorus of ‘crucio’ had been shouted before she threw herself back with a scream that seemed impossibly loud. The pain was indescribable, so unbearable the only thing she wished to happen was to hear ‘avada kedavra.”

From their point of view, she looked like a fish out of water, writhing around in a useless attempt to soothe the aches. She couldn’t hear anything, but she knew they were laughing, enjoying the moment a little too much.

The world began to dissolve around her, Harry being the last thing on her mind.

Voldemort’s shrill voice seeped into Harry’s head.

“She’s dead. Your little friend. So upsetting to see her go. I assure you she was without pain.”

He felt as if he couldn’t breathe. All the air in his lungs turned into a solid, blocking his airways as he leaned against a pillar. He looked around, seeing the rubble and the bodies of his classmates.

It was her stupid promise, he thought. She made him go on his own, to not stay by her side to protect her. And now she was dead.

“Harry!” Hermione called out to him.

She and Ron ran to him but stopped as they saw the look on his face. Just from the pure horror and pain painted across his features, they didn’t need to ask what happened. They looked at each other before letting their own features contort. Hermione let out a sob and tears began to obscure Ron’s own vision.

The three stood there in silence as the world caved in around them. Shouts of their friends could be heard, students frantically running past them. The outside of the castle was covered in bodies, those from their side and the dark side.

Harry thought they were too young to be fighting in this war, but as he passed by defenseless and innocent first years, he changed his mind. He was supposed to protect them, to kill Voldemort so they could grow up in a happier world.

He pushed his sadness away and ran for the entrance to the castle, ready to face him. He was fighting for something, for someone. And he was going to be the one to kill him. For his friends, classmates, professors. For Remus and Tonks, for his parents. For her.

#harry potter fanfiction #harry potter x reader #harry x reader #harry x y/n #harry x you #harry potter angst #harry potter #fanfic #harry potter x you #harry potter x y/n #battle of hogwarts #angst

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sophsicle · 3 years ago

Note

What are your thoughts on those who romanticize Snape, specifically his actions with the Death Eaters, and the way he treated the Marauders and (eventually) Harry?

(Yes, this is me hoping for a rant. I just love hearing your thoughts!)

Listen, LISTEN, You don't even understand how like 85% of my personality for so long was ranting about how garbage Severus Snape is. My best friend could tell you horror stories about being at parties where someone casually mentions him and I just go off . I kinda covered a lot of my thoughts about why Snape is ultimately irredeemable here (specifically more irredeemable than Regulus and Draco so I'm not gonna address that in this rant, tho I still definitely repeat some of this stuff, but if you're interested it's there) Okay, lets get into it. Snape falls into this weird trope in Western literature where a male character being in love with a woman somehow redeems him of all his past wrongs. Like the bar is so low for men that a man has one feeling one time for someone who isn't himself and we're all like "aw, how can you be mad at him, he loves her?"

First and foremost, I don't believe that Snape loves Lily, I think he's Jay-Gatsby-levels obsessed with her, but I don't think he loves her. None of his actions signify love. Especially, and I cannot stress this enough because I just feel like this moment tells you everything you need to know about Severus Snape, when he goes to Dumbledore and asks him to save Lily and doesn't give shit what happens to James and Harry. And I know, people are like, "Well, that's understandable, he hates James" which, sure. It is understandable, if all he cares about is himself. But Lily loves James and Harry, and it just shows how little thought he puts into her wants and needs and desires. His "love" for Lily actually has very little to do with her. Now, on the one hand, you can't really blame people for romanticizing Snape because JKR romanticizes Snape so they're just feeling what the narrative is telling them to feel. On the other hand, we spend six fucking books watching Snape abuse children, children who, I might add, are already traumatized. Now we can argue all you want about how he's a kid when he's running around calling Lily slurs and joining the Death Eaters and him coming from an unstable home and eventually switching sides, because sure, as may be evident from the fic I'm writing, I think you could present that in a way that is mildly understandable and sympathetic (could but don't necessarily have to, that goes for Regulus too). But for me, it is the way he treats Harry, Neville, and Hermione after the war, when he is a full grown ass adult, that makes him truly abhorrent.

And I will never understand why finding out he was friends with / pined after Lily makes any of that better? Like people go on and on about that Chapter in Deathly Hollows (The Prince's Tale??) but like, tbh that backstory is irrelevant to me, besides maybe the stuff about his home life. Setting up his villain origin story to be Lily Evans and James Potter getting together is the least effective way JKR could have tried to make me feel sorry for him. He treated Lily like shit, she called him on it, he did not want to change, she walked away. She got with James, who yeah, was an entitled prick sometimes but did want to change. I always think the best way to compare James and Snape is by looking at Snape's friendship with Lily and James's friendship with Remus. Both Snape and James had friends facing bigotry and who were vulnerable in the Wizarding world and James moved heaven and earth, broke laws, performed wildly advanced magic, shared his time and shared his resources, to help Remus in every way he possibly could. And Snape joined the bigots. And y'all know I love a complicated character, but Snape literally isn't complicated. He has one motivation for everything he does and that's his obsession with Lily. I hate when people defend the way he treats Harry by saying "well, Harry reminds him of James" or the way he treats Hermione by saying "well Hermione reminds him of Lily" or the way he treats Neville because "if Voldemort had just killed Neville instead Lily would still be alive" like what. What. What are those justifications? You don't get to take out your anger on these children. You just don't. Like I don't care that you have feelings you're still a gross guy. I think in order to see Snape as anything but a sad little man you have to ignore six books worth of actions. Actions perpetrated by an adult with full knowledge of what these children were going through. Romanticizing Snape requires signing off on child abuse and that's the most fucked up bit for me. And all of that is just what we see. Snape fans love to gloss over the time Snape very willingly spent as a Death Eater. But he is not just a casual supporter of Voldemort (which would still be bad!), he is in his inner circle, he has the Mark. And unlike Draco or Regulus who have family involved with Voldemort and therefore pulling strings to get them into the inner circle, Snape doesn't have nepotism to fall back on here. He gets that close to Voldemort through his own hard work (like credit where credits due booboo) and he doesn't switch sides in the end because he has a "come to Jesus" moment about blood supremacy, he switches because he wants to get with Lily Evans. All of that suggests he was doing some pretty terrible things for a while there that you can't just ignore. I think, as a general rule, it's best not to romanticize anyone, like I do my best not to romanticize Regulus, not to pretend that he was perfect. Because he wasn't. But the thing with Snape is there is just so much canon content where he is indefensibly terrible that I don't understand how we let JKR convince us that this man is some kind of unsung hero? Like okay, he's not a monster. Sure, I guess. Fine. But shit, if the best thing we can say about him is he's not a monster maybe we should stop sticking "Always" on everything like Lily and Snape were some sort of love story because they absolutely were not and pretending otherwise completely denies Lily of all her autonomy. That's like watching the Sound of Music and thinking Rofl and Liesl should have been end game like bish??? are we watching the same movie????

#soph rambles #anti severus snape #marauders era

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missdawnandherdusk · 4 years ago

Text

Beautiful Ghosts

Ghost!Reader X Draco

Summary: Request: @sydthekid1518: I had an Idea for a draco fic, where y/n is a ghost that’s fairly popular with the students and staff, and draco falls for her and stuff? And then maybe y/n and Harry create a plan that would allow reader to come back to life and stuff and be with draco.

A/N: Happy spooky season to all and to all a good night filled with Draco Malfoy. I’m so excited about how this turned out and that I got it done before Halloween because the odds weren’t looking to hot not gonna lie, but here it is and it’s beautiful. As always, let me know what y’all think,,,

“Y/n, please don’t disturb my students,” Snape droned with a monotone voice.

“You’ve got no power over me, Severus,” I laughed, ghosting away from his Slytherins working on Polyjuice potion.

“But I do have control in this classroom, dead or not Miss Y/n, this is my domain,” Snape argued, ruffled.

“I’m eternally bonded to this school. It’s my domain more than it is yours,” I countered, perched on his desk.

“Blasted ghosts,” A boy muttered, catching my attention, “No respect for authority,”

Tilting my head, I made my way over to him, studying the young Slytherin. He was about the age that I was when I had died, moved on, crossed the veil—whatever. His steady grey eyes and twisted sneer told me all that I needed to know about him.

“Another Malfoy,” I mused. “Interesting... And where’s your respect for the dead Mr. Malfoy?”

His eyes went wide at the idea that I was addressing him at all. Like I spooked him. Imagine that, a ghost spooking someone.

“Enough Ms. Y/n. Kindly refrain from scaring my students if you must stay,” Snape intervened. “I’m not scared,” Malfoy shot back.

“Boo!” I teased before passing through the walls of the dungeon and into my favorite spot in the entire castle, even living: the library.

I never had so much time on my hands before being dead, and now I could just take a book and read. Pince had been able to enchant them in such a way that I was able to hold them and turn their pages still. I was in the middle of a riveting tale about a boy who never grew up and had his destiny forced upon him and could fly. Perched on one of the tops of the shelves, I was lost in another world of magic.

“I didn’t know you could read,” I heard the same condescending voice from Severus’ potions class earlier that day.

“Little Malfoy,” I smiled down at him, closing my book. “And why would you assume that? I don’t look that stupid, do I?”

“Well, no,” He fumbled. “But you’re a ghost, you’re dead,”

“Yes, and I like to read, anything else?” I raised an eyebrow at him.

“Don’t call me little Malfoy. My name’s Draco,” He huffed.

“But it annoys you,” I mocked a pout. “And you are a little Malfoy, a bit taller than your father, but young all the same,”

“Who are you calling young? We’re the same age,” His voice raised enough that Pince had to shush him.

“I was born in 1776, I think you’re a little young,”

“1776!?” Draco’s eyes bulged. “But... how? You’re...” Pince hushed him again. I floated down and perched on the desk, trying and failing to contain my laughter.

“Oh, so now you care little Malfoy?” I teased lightly. “What happened to your dismissal of spirits not hours ago?” He didn’t have an answer for that. He just stared and didn’t dare to meet my eyes. “If you really want to know, I’ll tell you some time, but you’re going to be late for McGonagall if you don’t get going,”

Flustered, Draco headed out of the library and I watched him go. Knowing that Remus had a class this hour with the infamous Harry Potter, I headed over and perched on a desk in the back.

“Miss Y/n,” Remus acknowledged, “Perhaps you’d like to aid us today as we learn about ghosts and spirits?” Even though he had grown quite a bit over the years, there was still the same shine in his eyes when he was able to teach—even if it wasn’t a rag-tag group of marauders.

“So... you’re a ghost?” A young Hermione asked, a girl who spent a lot of hours in my library.

“Yes,” I smiled at her. “There are different types of ghosts however,”

“Oh, yes, Poltergeists, Funnels, Whisps, Orbs, and Shades,” She said matter-of-factly.

“Exactly, and Hogwarts has them all,” I looked to Remus who nodded for me to continue. “Most of you know that Peeves is a Poltergeist, a trickster loud ghost. Sometimes they were loud and violent, sometimes... well sometimes you have something like Peeves.” The class laughed.

“I’m sure you all have heard of the Grey Lady?” Remus interjected. “Helena Ravenclaw was murdered by the Bloody Baron and spends the rest of her days here at Hogwarts, they are both what we classify as Funnel ghosts. Ghosts who visit loved ones or loved places,”

“What about Whisps?” An intrigued Weasley asked.

“Well, most others are Whisps,” I explained. “Nearly Headless Nick, the Fat Friar, and most others you see strolling about. There is no strict reason that they’re here, other than they chose not to move on, or felt their work on earth was not completed.”

“Orbs are normally the spirits of animals or humans travelling about,” I continued, “They mainly show up in photographs. It wasn’t till after I died that cameras were invented, and they were found,”

“Any what kind of ghost are you?” A shy kid in the back asked. The class of kids turned to me, all expectant.

“I’m a Shade,” I explained. “It means that when I died, I wasn’t meant to. My soul knowing that, remained, and here I am,”

“Shades are very rare in the Wizarding World,” Remus cut in, “Not many are killed before their time, and many of them are very young,”

“Aren’t Shades allowed to come back though?” Hermione asked. “Because they were wrongfully killed? Doesn’t fate allow them another chance?”

Remus and I shared a look. I remembered when he had asked me that same question when he was no more than a third year as well. There was a solemn sorrow in his eyes.

“Yes,” I answered hesitantly. “There is a possibility, but the odds are almost impossible. Most of them have to do around prophecies.”

Class had ended, and Hermione waved as she went to leave. I lingered behind a bit with Remus for old times’ sake. He was one who had always been kind to me. I was one who never judged him for being a werewolf before he found his marauders.

“Sirius escaped from Azkaban,” He whispered softly, his gaze fixed on the papers on his desk. “I... I thought I was over it. Over him. He had my best friends killed,”

Pity flooded my chest as I hovered over to him, my hand ghosting above his.

“That wasn’t your fault Remus...” Was I going to give away the truth that I knew? Or would I keep it a secret? “And it wasn’t Sirius’ either,”

“How can you say that!” Remus slammed his hand on the desk. “He gave away Lily and James’ location! Then he killed Peter!”

“Remus,” I shook my head. “I can’t tell you everything, because it’s not in the stars, but... your friend isn’t who you think he is,”

A quiet moment passed between us and rather than get upset at me like I had thought he would, he spoke softly and surely.

“You’re... you’re saying there’s hope?”

“There’s always hope,” I offered a soft smile. “For all of us... even me,”

“How are you doing with that? The prophecy?” He asked.

I sighed and shook my head. “I might really be stuck like this for the rest of... forever...”

“Is there anything...?”

“No,” I denied softly. “Interfering with a prophecy can ruin it,”

“Can,” Remus stressed. “Not that it will,”

“But is it worth that risk?” I countered. “I could lose my one shot to come back. To be human again,”

“If I could be human again, I’d take any chance I could,” Remus’ eyes held a sadness that very few could sympathize with. One of those was me.

“Perhaps you’re right,” I murmured and let him be, drifting around the halls for a bit then back to the library to think some more and maybe find the right answer.

What I didn’t expect to find however was Draco, fast asleep where we had spoken earlier, draped over a few books and handwritten notes. I hadn’t noticed the late hour, sometimes time did elude me, and the days seemed to run together.

I didn’t want to wake the young Malfoy, instead, I peered at the books underneath him. Potions books, it seemed. Supposing that a Slytherin might have a partiality to Snape’s class, there was no need to question why he’d rather work on this subject than the others. Knowing Pince would chase Draco out of the library if he didn’t wake, my notion to not disturb him fell to the wayside.

“Malfoy!” I whispered loudly. “Draco, wake up!”

It was useless to try and shake him awake, I wasn’t able to. I could however pull the book out from under his resting head. So, I did.

“Bloody hell,” Draco grumbled, rubbing his eyes. “What’d you do that for?”

“You fell asleep?”

“And that was the only way you know how to wake a person?” He snapped, blinking into consciousness.

I gave him a flat look and reached out to touch him. He shied away, but it was in vain because my hand passed right through his material body.

“Oh,” He muttered. “But you can touch the books?”

“Pince and I worked on that together,” I informed him. “Did you think I would spend eternity and not figure out how to read?”

“I... uh,” He stammered, blushing a bit. “How come I’ve never met a ghost like you before?”

“And that means?” I pressed, perching on the desk.

“Well, all of the other ghosts are... I don’t know... stuck in their ways? Not sad about being ghosts? Haven’t kept up on things like reading?”

“You think I’m sad about being a ghost?” I mused.

“I... you—I mean,” He stammered, looking down in embarrassment. “You just seem... optimistically hopeless,” It was almost mumbled through his exhaustion.

“You know those words have opposite meaning, right?” I teased softly. “And... I’m a Shade. I doubt you’ve met another before like me,”

“A Shade?”

“Do you not pay attention in Remus’ class?” I raised an eyebrow at him.

“I don’t have his class until tomorrow,” Draco dismayed. “And it’s a stupid class anyway,”

“Defense against the dark arts isn’t stupid,” I refuted. “Especially with Remus teaching it,”

“You knew him then... when he went here. Professor Lupin,” Draco noted.

“Yes,” Lost in thought, a quietness passed before I spoke again. “When you learn what a Shade is, you’ll understand,”

“You could just tell me,” Draco whined, listlessly tired.

“But then you won’t pay attention in class,” I smiled. “Go on to bed, Draco. I’m not going anywhere,”

____________________________

Draco sulked in bed that night, thinking about you. Thinking about what a Shade was. Of course, he didn’t wait for class in the morning, instead he took out his DADA book and began to read up on ghosts. And he read. And read. And read. And barely found anything about what a Shade was. All that he knew was that you died when before your time. Maybe that was why he saw the sadness in your eyes.

He had every intention to be at Lupin’s class that day, but having Mythical Creatures beforehand, things hadn’t gone as planned.

“There’s always one,” Your voice sounded amused. “Why am I not surprised it was you, Little Malfoy?”

“It was the bloody hippogriff,” Draco snapped back.

“And somehow I don’t think that’s the entire truth,” You mused, hovering at his bedside. Until Pomfrey gave him the clear to leave, he was stuck with you.

“Won’t you just leave me alone?” He groaned, closing his eyes and laying back on the lumpy pillows of the hospital cot.

“Did you not want to learn about Shades? You’re going to miss Remus’ class after all,” The smile he heard in your voice made him look over to you, skeptical.

Your offer was tempting. Very tempting. He didn’t care much about magic other than excelling at it, therefore things that didn’t pertain to his advancement—mythical creatures and the like— held no inkling to him. And yet, you were a mystery he didn’t mind learning about. He wanted to know more about you. And you specifically.

“I guess, since I’m stuck here,” He tried to play it off as nonchalance, but you raised an eyebrow at him, seeing right through his charade.

“Well, Little Malfoy,” You hovered and perched on the end of his bed. “What do you know?”

“I... uh. Shades are people who have died before their time,” He stammered, not sure why he was so nervous.

“Quite,” You nodded. “Anything else?”

“Our book didn’t have anything else,” He admitted.

You went pensive a moment then nodded. “I suppose that you’d learn more about me in Divination than the Dark Arts,”

“Divination? You’ve got to be bloody joking! That class is a circus!” Draco exclaimed, wincing when he moved his arm too much.

“Perhaps,” You didn’t berate him, but seemed to be lost in thought once more. “But all Shades are tied to prophecies.”

“All of them?” Draco pressed.

“The fates understand that these souls left before their time, and give them another chance, a prophecy... to come back and live one more time.”

“So, you have the chance to live again?” His genuine curiosity seemed to shock both of you. “How?”

“If the prophecy is fulfilled, then I get to live again,” You said it as if it were obvious.

“So, why haven’t you, I don’t know... fulfilled it?” Draco asked.

You laughed something sad and soft. “Don’t you think I’ve tried? I’ve read every prophecy, every book, every scribble. I’ve tried everything... after so many centuries, you give up hope and accept your fate,”

“But this wasn’t your fate,” He argued back. “You were meant to live, back then, whatever that life was,”

“Do you know what happened when I was young, before I died, Little Malfoy?” You spoke, and he could hear the age in your voice though you liked no older than he was. It was your sorrow that aged you. He waited for you to continue. “I was born in 1776, the year the Americans went to war with the King of England. At the time we were living in the French countryside with my aunt because my father had gone to fight in the war. He was a general,” A smile ghosted your lips. “My father died in the war... the battle of Yorktown... that’s what it’s called today. Back then it was just a letter and inheritance money that went to my brother,”

“Hang on, you’re saying that your father fought in the American War of Independence? Under the king?”

“So, he can be taught,” You smiled at him. “Yes, the king at the time was a wizard and until parliament and the ministry were born and declared that muggles and wizards should rule themselves. Of course, the ministry was formed in the beginning of that century, but it took the war for them to call the final straw.”

“So, your father died in the war, that doesn’t explain what happened to you,” Draco pointed out, deeply invested.

“Well, tell me, what happened in France after that war ended?”

“The French Revolution,”

Your warm smile had the same effect as the sun. “Yes, and as I said, I was in France at the time, being tutored at home for the summer. Muggle girls weren’t allowed to go to school back then... I travelled to Hogwarts to receive schooling and even then, I was only allowed to learn Herbology and Potions. At least those two classes stayed the same,” You sounded sad and wistful. “But the revolutionists were going for the rich, any sort of rich. And at the time, they saw knowledge as wealth and power, and I had a reputation for being able to read and attending a private school out of the country and well...”

“They killed you because you knew how to read?” Draco distressed, sitting up, enraptured by your tale. “That’s so... stupid,”

“It was. But perhaps it was my own fault, I wouldn’t deny that I could read. I was proud.” Your smile faded again as melancholy settled on your face. “Now it seems that’s all I do. Fate is funny like that...��

“You’re free to go Mr. Malfoy,” Madam Pomfrey’s voice seemed to draw you both from whatever world had been created with your words.

He had to blink a few times to come to grips with the fact that he was currently in the hospital wing at Hogwarts, and not centuries behind, trying to imagine death for the reason of knowledge. There was an awkward moment between the two of you as you both seemed to realize that you were no longer int eh late eighteenth century. You offered a smile and left without another word, a curious look on your face as you left.

That was the last time he saw you that day, and that week for that matter, but he always wondered what you were doing. What were you reading today? What was your prophecy? Was it really as hopeless as you said it was? Was there a reason that he found himself caring?

______________________

“Oh, hello Harry,” I stood from the corner of Remus’ office, intrigued that the young Potter had come. He looked so much like his father that my heart ached for Remus and to imagine what he felt when he saw Harry.

“Y/n,” Harry seemed surprised. “I... uh... you know Professor Lupin?”

“Well I was here when he went to Hogwarts himself, so yes, I’m quite fond of him if you can believe it,” I smiled as Remus eyed the situation.

“Is there something that you needed Harry?” Remus asked, trying to sound professional, but I could hear the sentiment in his voice.

“The map...” Harry turned slightly pink.

A smile grew on my face. “You have the Marauder’s Map?” I almost laughed. “How in the world did you get that? Oh, if your father knew,” I did laugh this time.

Remus shot me a sharp look and Harry looked at me in wonder.

“My father? You knew my father?” The realization seemed to dawn him.

“Yes, well,” Remus interjected sharply. “Don’t get caught again Potter,”

“Why haven’t you told him?” I demanded as soon as Harry left. “Remus, come on, that’s not fair to Harry,”

“I’m not the one to tell him though! I can’t be!” He protested and I could hear the anxiety in his voice.

“Remus, I’ve known you a long time. And I’ve known James and Lily. They would want you to talk to him. They would want you apart of his life,” I argued, or perhaps encouraged softly.

“Maybe you’re right,” Remus mumbled.

“Of course, I am,” I smiled. “It’ll work out Re, with Sirius, and with Harry,”

“I hope you’re right,”

I left him to his thoughts and on my way to the library, I was ambushed by the younger Potter. Not that I wasn’t expecting it, I knew that Harry would have questions for me as soon as he knew I knew his father.

“Hello Harry,” I smiled.

“You know about my dad,” He burst out, hope in his eyes and tone.

“And your mother,” I smiled and perched on the windowsill nearby.

“Can you tell me about them? Please?” His eyes went glossy with tears that he blinked away.

“Your mother was bold, but still kind and gentle. She looked out for the little guy. She rooted for the underdog and protected the younger years of any House. She was always kind to me. Her and Remus both.” The memory was fond, if it was a memory. Did ghosts have memories after they were dead?

“And my dad?” He clung to every word.

“He... was a bit like you. Always finding trouble whether it was his fault or not. Totally deserved to be smacked a few times... but the war changed him. He grew up rather quickly. Into a protective caring young man. Almost everyone had eyes for him, but he only saw your mother,”

“Do... you think they would be proud of me?” His gaze dropped to his beat-up sneakers.

“Harry,” I called his attention. “You’re their son, they’ll always be proud of you,”

“But—”

“No buts,” I interjected. “That’s all it takes for you to make them proud, I promise,”

He nodded and mumbled a thanks before taking off toward the Gryffindor dorm. Finding solace in the library, I began to read again. Maybe a week had passed. Perhaps two. I wasn’t sure. I was so wrapped up in my books that I became lost to time. Until a blond-haired boy came in, his nose stuck in a book.

“I was wondering when I’d see you again Little Malfoy,” I smiled, from my perch in the library. He didn’t acknowledge me, causing me to frown. “Draco?” I ghosted down and perched on the table next to him. “Are you ghosting a ghost?”

Though he ignored me I could see the smile that twitched at his lips. That gave me little hope. “Is everything alright?” I asked, genuine concern coloring my voice.

“Ask Potter,” Draco snapped. “You seem to fancy him lately,”

“Excuse me?” I was taken aback. “Harry? He just wanted to know about his parents, that’s all,”

Draco frowned at this and he finally looked at me. “His parents?”

“Yes,” I rolled my eyes. “It’s not like he has a lot of people who know his parents and are willing to tell him anything. Dumbledore has made almost everyone vow not to talk to him, but what good is a vow to someone who’s already in the grave?” I shrugged. “Poor kid knows nothing,”

“I...” Draco didn’t seem to have the words. Instead he looked back down at his book. I smiled and rolled my eyes at his antics.

“If you care that much, you are still my favorite Little Malfoy,” His cheeks tinged pink and I laughed. “You’re something else Malfoy, you know that?”

“Says the girl who died for admitting that she could read instead of lying,” He raised an eyebrow at me. I chuckled and shrugged.

“Says the boy who avoided me for what, two weeks, because I talked to a boy about his dead parents,” I mused.

“It wasn’t two weeks,” Draco grumbled. “Nine days,”

“Oh, forgive me,” I laughed. “Nine days.”

He smiled and looked back down at his notes. I think it was the first time I had ever seen him smile and not sneer.

“So, nine days,” He prompted. “I assume you haven’t left the library... read anything interesting?”

I laughed and somehow the hours passed as Draco and I spoke about books and stories we had read as kids, and the ones we were currently invested in. It shocked me to know that he was an avid reader, of fantasy novels, nonetheless. Though I had read just about everyone that he had mentioned, there were a few that I added to my mental list of his that I said I would check out. He seemed sincerely happy at my interest of the books he read.

“Father thought they were childish,” He muttered when I asked him about it. “Fairytales and fantasies,”

“That’s stupid,” I scoffed, and Draco gaped at me, aghast that I would dare to call something his father said ‘stupid.’ It made me pause. “You... you know you don’t have to always agree with your parents,”

His gaze cast downward. “I don’t want to disappoint them,”

My face furrowed. “You’re they’re son, that’s enough for them to be proud,”

“You don’t know my parents,” He scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “I think the last time they were proud of me, is when I was sorted into Slytherin.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” I protested.

“You don’t know my parents,” Draco argued again.

“I do,” I retorted. “Or I did,”

The notion seemed to dawn on Draco as he stared up at me with wonder in his eyes.

“You did,” He realized. “Can you tell me about them... have they always been so...”

“Strict?” I offered.

“Suffocating,” Draco supplied.

I pressed my lips together and thought a moment.

“Your father, perhaps. I never spoke to him much, and he never paid me mind. But you mother,” I smiled at the memories that came flooding back. “She was bold, cunning. She loved her sisters with a fierce passion.” My smile. “The three of them were some of the brightest witches I’d ever seen,” I glanced over to him. “You have her eyes, her same spirit,”

A smile drew on his lips as his face turned a soft shade of pink. “Do you know that because you’re a ghost?” He mused.

“No, I’m just a girl who can read character pretty well. After seeing so many faces pass through here, and reading so many stories, there are those who stand out and stay with you. Your mother... she stood out to me. And I can see her in your eyes,” My demeanor softened as I realized the words I was saying and if I could have, I would have blushed.

“Thank you,” He whispered as the clock chimed a late hour.

“You should head back,” I sighed softly. “Get some rest,”

“Why don’t I ever see you near the Slytherin dorm?” Draco asked, gathering his things.

“I’d rather not cross paths with the Baron,” I admitted.

“The Baron? Why?” Draco frowned; his bag slung over his shoulder.

“Never you mind,” I smiled. “Get to bed Little Malfoy,”

“Don’t call me that,” He grumbled, trudging out of the library.

The night progressed as did the month and I went from one book to another, soon searching for a book I hadn’t in a long time. My diary from when I was alive. Published as its own book that I had found a few decades ago. Tucked into the pages was what held my fate. My prophecy.

I went to the shelf in which I knew my book had its home, but it wasn’t there. Instead a sliver of time carved away by my missing book. Drifting over to Pince I asked her about where my book had gone. She told me that Malfoy had checked it out and had it for about a week—since the day we spent in the infirmary together.

For the first time in a long time I felt... embarrassed that my story and thoughts were on display for anyone to read. I never cared before, but this felt different.

Cursing the late hour, I knew that there was no way to get to Draco now. The Bloody Baron was protective about other ghosts coming into the Slytherin dorms. I’d have to find him in the morning then. I considered loitering outside the Slytherin portrait, but I also did not want to go anywhere near the Bloody Baron. I had heard and read enough.

So instead I headed to the Astronomy Tower to watch the stars again, having silent conversations with them, wondering if they’d ever grant me life again.

“You’re glowing,”

The voice startled me enough that I actually jumped. The irony of scaring a ghost. I turned to see Draco behind me, his eyes glued to my shimmering skin.

“Yes, all ghosts do it under the moon and stars,” I noted. “By the way, can I have my book back?” I stood, going over to him.

“Your book?” He questioned.

“My book,” I restressed. “My diary? That you have from the library? The one that has my—” I stopped myself.

“Your prophecy.” Draco finished, offering me the book that he had drawn from his robes. “Yeah, I know.”

I stared at him curiously, pulling the book back into the security of my arms, where it belonged. That uncertain feeling returned to my chest.

“You know it’s rude to read a girl’s diary,” I retorted, defensive.

“It’s a published book in the library, anyone can read it,” Draco rolled his eyes. I gave him a flat look and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “So, have you figured out what it means?”

I sighed softly and shook my head in defeat. “The only thing I’m sure of is the great star is Sirius,”

“Sirius, like Sirius Black? Escaped Azkaban criminal?” Draco exasperated.

“Well, the star is his name sake. But I’m sure you of all people know that Draco,” I raised an eyebrow at him. “Your family has a knack for celestial namesakes. If I remember correctly, Sirius is your mother’s cousin,”

“What?” Draco demanded. “No! There is no way!”

“Draco,” I reached out for him in vain as he paced in anger and confusion. “Draco will you calm down?” I nearly shouted.

“Calm down!? How can I when I know that I’m related to that criminal!?” He demanded.

“Sirius isn’t a criminal!” I argued back. “He didn’t kill Peter or those people!” I gasped, covering my mouth in shame, my eyes wide. That was a secret that I wasn’t supposed to tell.

“What do you mean he didn’t kill those people?” Draco sneered, stalking up to me.

“I—I’m not supposed to...” I took a step back, ghostly tears welling in my eyes. “I wasn’t supposed to... Merlin,” I cried, sliding to the ground.

Draco’s demeanor changed from anger to worried and concerned. Not that I noticed through my distress. I felt as if I had just betrayed one of my best friends.

“Y/n, what... what in the world are you talking about?” Draco asked sitting beside me, a failed attempt to reach out and comfort me.

“I promised. I promised I wouldn’t tell what I knew until the time was right,” I sobbed. “Bloody hell, he’ll never trust me again,” I squeaked.

“Who?” Draco demanded.

I looked at him, wide eyed with fear, shaking my head softly. “I... I can’t. I’m sorry Draco,”

I dematerialized and rematerialized in a quiet portion of the castle grounds, away from the rest of the students, among the woods. The trees welcomed me and the further I walked in, the less tied to the castle I felt. I came to a lake and sat beside it. Crying tears that would never fall in my undead state, I stared at the water and my lack of reflection.

“I’m so sorry Sirius,” I wept softly. “I didn’t mean to tell him... I was just defending you,”

“I’m surprised you kept the secret this long,”

Again, I jumped, startled by the voice behind me.

“Hey there Spooks,” Sirius gave a lopsided smile, the years in Azkaban resting in his eyes and in the lines on his face.

“Sirius,” I gasped. “What are you doing? It’s not safe here!” I protested.

“I couldn’t leave my girl to cry, now could I?” He smirked, before his expression sobered.

“You should,” I sniffed. “I’m so sorry Sirius, it slipped out,”

“I know,” He held his hands up in a calming effort. “I knew it would, and it’s okay. Who did you tell? It wasn’t Moony was it?”

“No,” I looked down. “But you need to tell him Sirius, he deserves to know,”

“He won’t even talk to me. He thinks that I betrayed James and Lily and killed all of his friends,” Sirius toed at the dirt—the same tick he had in his Hogwarts years when he had been caught in a lie or prank.

“But you didn’t,” I protested. “He still loves you Sirius, I can see it in his eyes and when he talks about you and James...”

“He—no,” Sirius shook his head. “That’s not for you to worry about,”

“Do not make me mother you,” I threatened. “Talk to Remus,”

“I will,” Sirius sighed. “When the time is right,”

“As a girl who’s waited for centuries for the right time... talk to him as soon as you can,” There was a pity-filled look on his face that I brushed off.

“Any luck with that? Your prophecy?” He seemed almost hopeful.

“No,” I sighed. “But there is one who took the time to ask this year. Like Remus did his first year,” The memory was a soft spot for both of us.

“You were his first friend,” Sirius smiled at the same memory. “So, who is it this year?”

“Little Malfoy,”

Sirius snorted. “We both know you don’t have a sense of humor, drop the act,”

“I’m ser—” He gave me a look and I paused to rephrase. “I’m telling the truth. It was Draco who asked, who read my diary, and knows about the prophecy,” I hesitated. “He’s also the one I told,” My gaze dropped to the ground waiting for the backlash.

“Malfoy!?” Sirius demanded. “You told Malfoy!?”

“I’m sorry! I told you I was sorry!” I shouted back, bristling, feeling my body shudder. Sirius seemed to notice and took a few paces away and composed himself.

I dared to speak. “All he knows is that you didn’t kill Peter. That’s all. I’m so sorry Sirius,” I turned, and he was gone. “Fine! Leave!” I shouted. “Like always... like everyone...”

I let out a scream of frustration that was carried away with the wind. Letting out a sigh of defeat I wandered up to the castle again.

“Y/n?” For the third time tonight, I jumped at the call of my name. It was Draco again.

“Draco, look,” I started. “I...”

“No,” He stopped me softly. “I’m sorry... I...” He shook his head and took off down the hall towards the Slytherin dorms. Chasing after him, he was too far gone, and I was face to face with the Baron.

“Oh, could this night get any worse?” I shouted to no one in particular. “I don’t mean to trespass, apologies.”

“Stay out of my territory and away from my students, you little harlot,” The Baron sneered.

“Gladly,” I growled back. “Arse,” I muttered as I ghosted back to the upper levels of the castle.

Utterly lost on what to do, I found myself by the Black Lake, staring up at the moon and stars. I stayed there until the sun rose over the dark waters, painting the valleys in a golden light. I remained there, watching the sun and moon dance in the sky in an unchangeable waltz that continued for eternity.

“They said you were out here,”

I didn’t jump this time at the sound of his voice as the moon rose to her duet again.

“Hello, Draco,” I murmured softly. “Come to watch the stars with me?”

“Sure,” I could hear the smile in his voice as he sat beside me on the bank of the lake, the only sound was the music of the night, the lake lapping at the small beach, and his gentle breaths.

“I... I’m really sorry,” He murmured softly. “For that night, I didn’t mean to get so angry. I wasn’t upset with you...” Silence fell softly between us. “My parents never told me... I wrote to my mother...” My eyes widened as I gazed over at him, his pale skin almost having the same affect that mine did in the moon light. “I never knew...”

“I’m sorry,” I offered.

“Merlin don’t apologize to me,” He laughed hopelessly.

“Well I did sort of freak out on you, so... sorry.”

He shrugged and his gaze fixed on the moonlit water. “My father thinks it’s absurd that I’m talking to you... and I think my mother is slightly worried about me for it,”

“Any particular reason?” I mused.

“Father has always been against those different than him in any way... my mother probably worries that I’m not making friends...talking to ghosts...” A smile toyed at his lips at the mention of his mother.

“Are we not friends then?” I teased lightly, causing him to laugh.

“Sure,” He rolled his eyes at me, this time causing me to laugh. “Do you miss them?” He asked after a quiet moment.

“Who?”

“Your parents... your family?” He seemed almost afraid to ask.

I pondered the question. “Yes, sometimes... but I’ve spent a lot of years wasting tears that will never fall over people I can never see again... you move on and learn to live after a while... well as much as a ghost can live,”

“You can’t cry, can you?” He came to the fact easier and saner than most did.

I shook my head. “I can feel bitter sorrow, the worst loss, but I can never shed a tear,” I chuckled humorlessly. “The irony, I have the most to mourn and I can’t even cry,”

“I’m sorry,”

I shrugged. “I’ve lived a long time without being able to cry... just reminds me that I’ll never be quite human again,”

“But you could be,” He had more hope than I ever had about the fact.

“Yeah,” I scoffed. “That stupid prophecy,”

“I don’t think it’s stupid,”

“You’ve haven’t spent centuries wondering what it meant,” I argued back:

“In the days when evil lurks around every corner;

The condemned will become innocent;

And the innocent will become condemned;

True love can reanimate a deceased heart;

Under the star of Great Dog;

She will become alive as time is altered;

Two souls will be set free that day as the star takes her place.”

“True love,” I scoffed again; my lips pressed together. “Like some sort of stupid fairytale,”

“I thought you said that fairytales weren’t stupid,” Draco raised an eyebrow at me smirking.

“They’re not,” I rolled my eyes. “Believing that there’s true love out there to save me? That’s stupid,”

“Then maybe there’s no hope for any of us,” Draco sighed. “If someone like you can’t find true love, where’s the hope for the rest of us,”

A smile ghosted me lips at his words as I looked over to him, his eyes still trained on the water.

“You’re really sweet sometimes, you know that Malfoy?” His eyes darted to mine as his cheeks tinged pink.

“Will you come back inside?” He asked softly. “The library isn’t as interesting without you there,”

“Sure,” I smiled warmly at him.

Fall turned to winter turned to spring, and Draco and I spent a lot more time together than I cared to admit. He was almost easier to talk to than anyone else I had met. And that was saying something, because I knew Remus Lupin, who was fascinated with my fascination of the young Malfoy.

But all the same, I found myself crave Draco’s company more and more and cursing the Baron for not letting me see him while he was in his dorm. It was rough when he came down with a cold and I wasn’t able to see him for a week. No number of books could distract me from the fact that he wasn’t there to talk to. That he wasn’t here to talk to me. I had never missed anyone like this before.

But when he felt better, we’d press curfew to mere minutes just to get another word in with each other. Then he’d have to be human and I’d have to remember that I didn’t belong in his world and never could. It didn’t stop me, however, from finding and talking to him the next day. Or the day after that. Or the day after that.

Then there was a day in late spring that caught my attention as Sirius had finally gotten to Harry and his friends, but things had gone from bad to worse as I watched the scene unfold, doing the only thing I could think of, I spirited away to find Remus. He would know what to do, he would know how to help.

After I had explained what I had seen, Remus grabbed his wand and took off towards the Whomping Willow. I followed him, and as soon as I left the castle, I felt the dark presence of the dementors around me.

“No!” I shouted, going up to meet them, and for the first time in a long time gave into my spiritual power, long enough to hold them off and let Remus pass through safely.

I hovered over the Shrieking Shack, keeping the dementors as bay, away from Sirius, away from Remus. They didn’t dare to go near my pure light that was amplified by the full moon. Soon I saw the three of them emerge, Peter in chains, when the light of the full moon hit my little Remus.

With a cry of desperation, I did my best to keep the dementors away as I watched the horrors unfold before me before I couldn’t take it any long and chased after Remus, who was not a wolf into the wood.

“Remus!?” I shouted; my voice lost with the wind. “Remus, it’s me! Please come out!” I caught sight of Hermione and Harry and gestured that they should leave, and quickly. “Remus!?”

I heard a growl and turned, seeing golden scared eyes.

“Hey,” I cooed softly. “You’re alright, you can’t hurt me,”

A pained howl left his lips.

“I know,” I replied. “But you’re going to be alright, let get you back, yeah? To Prongs and Pads, they’re waiting for you.” Tears I wanted to cry weren’t shed at the pitiful heartbreaking whine that left his lips.

But he let me lead him back to the Shrieking Shack all the same. I stayed with him until McGonagall and Dumbledore came. There was a soft thank you from the both of them. I drifted back to the castle, pacing in anxiety.

“Y/n?” It was Draco’s voice. I turned.

“Draco, it’s not safe!” I squeaked. “What are you doing out of bed!?”

“I had to see you,” He confessed. “There are rumors, about Black and Lupin... I thought you’d... Are you alright?”

“Draco, really,” I glanced around, cursing that I couldn’t drag him inside to where it was safer. “It’s not safe for you out here,”

“Bloody hell, Y/n, what about you!?”

“I’m already dead! So, unless you’d like to join me!” I shouted, realizing after the fact what I had said. “Draco, I didn’t mean that,”

“You’re keeping things from me,” It was a broken accusation. “About Sirius, about Remus,”

“Draco, please,” I pulled away. “I... I have to go, I have to make sure that he’s alright,” My eyes trailed up to the top of the tower, knowing that I may have been the reason that Sirius was in chains again.

“No!” Draco shouted, drawing my attention.

He had never demanded anything of me before, not like this. It wasn’t the fact that he told me to stop, it was the notion that he had found his own voice in it that caused me to pause. I waited for him to continue.

“I’ve spent all year, all of my three years here, knowing you, and getting to know you and I’m not going to let you walk away again! I want to know! I don’t want this you can’t tell me act. If anyone, you can tell me. Can’t you trust me? Please,” His voice broke, unshed tears in his eyes.

“Draco,” My non-material heart broke a bit as he stood before me, vulnerable. Shaking and terrified I nodded. “Remus... is a werewolf. Sirius is an Animagus. Peter betrayed the Potters, and Sirius went to confront him. Peter faked his death and killed all those people and it was blamed on Sirius...” In my nervousness I began to ramble:

“...and Sirius and Remus confronted Peter tonight and Harry and his friends were there and I had to fight off dementors so that Sirius would be okay because I couldn’t bear to see him get hurt for something he didn’t do and then I had to go and help Remus because it’s a full moon and he won’t hurt me but for the love of merlin he will hurt you so will you please go inside!”

Draco gaped at me, in utter disbelief.

“Please Draco, go inside,”

“Only if you come with me,” He recovered.

My thoughts for Sirius were forgotten as I took a step closer to him. Instead, all I could see and focus on was the heartbreak on his face and the hand that he held out for me. A hand that I wanted to accept but knew that I couldn’t because I would phase right through him. Never had I loathed being dead so much but in that moment when all I wanted to do was comfort him.

For the first time in almost two hundred years, tears slid down my cheeks. I barely noticed.

“Please,” His voice shook as did his hand as it remained extended to me. “Please, Y/n,”

The moon fell behind the mountains as the sun shed her first light onto us.

And with reckless abandon, I reached out for him, for his hand. In desperation and false hope, closing my eyes, knowing my heart would never break more that in the next few moments for not being a part of his world.

Then my hand felt softness and warmth.

I gasped and jerked back, and Draco seemed to realize this as I did.

“You just...” He stammered.

“I...” Trembling, I held my hand up, the sunlight no longer passing through it but refracting off of it. I finally reached up and felt the wetness of tears on my cheeks as I gasped in pure joy.

“I’m human,” I laughed, “I’m human!” I marveled at my rosy skin and the soft green fabric of my dress as I felt the grass beneath my feet. After a moment, I, at last, looked to Draco, who seemed to be frozen in a state of wonder and disbelief, and almost... scared.

“Draco,” I called softly, “It’s me,” I offered my hand to him, the grin not leaving my face.

“You’re... and...”

I nodded and smiled, taking a step closer to him. “Not scared of ghosts, are you?” I teased softly.

He finally laughed and took my hand, pulling me close, into the comfort of his arms. I began to cry again because for the first time in two hundred and fifty years, I was hugged. I clung to him, my fingers marveling at the softness of his shirt, trailing up into his hair.

“Merlin,” Draco pulled away softly. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this,”

Before I could ask him what he meant—or argue that I had been waiting longer than he ever had—he pressed his lips to mine, and in that moment, I swear I could have died all over again in his arms.

In the days when evil lurks around every corner,

The condemned will become innocent,

And the innocent will become condemned.

True love can reanimate a deceased heart,

Under the star of Great Dog,

She will become alive as time is altered;

Two souls will be set free that day as the star takes her place.

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severusish · 3 years ago

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Hey, thanks for the recently post defending SSHG/Snamione shippers. I'm relatively new to the ship and have been pretty sheltered from the worst of the hate. I felt like I had gotten a punch to the gut to hear people call my favorite ship toxic and unhealthy.

Welcome to the ship. I didn’t know about the hate until I started following the Pro-Snape, Snapedom and Snamione tags on Tumblr years ago. It was a shock to me as well and I’m sorry that you’ve gone through the same thing. 💌

One of the things about the HP fandom currently is that people have extremely strong opinions and are super passionate about their ships, but also there is a tendency for some people to then be equally passionate about their dislike for other people or characters on the basis of problematic traits which were either in canon or fanon.

Your favorite ship is not toxic and unhealthy.

There are some writers who start writing Snamione and do it “more carefully” than others when it comes to avoiding Severus and Hermione being involved physically/romantically when she’s 17. And those who do it “more carefully” tend to involve Time Turner incidents, or Snape Lives/Marauder Time-Turner Era/Post-War AUs, where the characters could realistically be in each other’s company romantically.

Everyone who reads and ships Snamione knows that there are problems that can arise from it if one isn’t careful — we’re aware of power dynamics etc. But then that is true of any teacher-student relationship to have begun or started in a Hogwarts Era setting. Not only Snamione. They just pick on Snamione because it’s easy to cherry-pick the fics you read and choose the ones that are objectively risqué, where Hermione is 17 and still his student.

Fics we know and love, such as Pet Project and Sin and Vice and Chasing the Sun and Unquestionable Love and so so so many more, all of them deal with the age gap and power dynamics elegantly. !!!!!!

The ship is full of potential for angst based on their past interactions but also so much reconciliation.

Additionally I’d like to say that while hate often feels personal, it also generally isn’t.

Don’t let the haters get you down. They will try to make hate feel personal and you have to realize that it’s not about you, it’s about the thing they can’t stand. They have a problem with the thing they are against, not you, and they are targeting you because you defend it.

Again, this doesn’t happen often, but occasionally some Brave Anti will wander into your asks and say something ✨spicy✨which ultimately will be more entertaining than upsetting. Best way to avoid issues is to avoid getting too involved with antis and to avoid becoming anti (in a way that puts others down) yourself.

There is a whole community here ready to lift you up. And loads of discord servers too if you’re looking for more activity outside of the Hellsite (Affectionate.)

Steel yourself for a crazy dynamic primarily between Pro-Snapes and Anti-Snapes. Anti-Snapes tend to be Anti-Snape+Marauder and Anti-Snily and Anti-Snamione. And also Anti-Dramione, come to think of it.

Edit: it’s not very often that I intervene or contribute to posts where an Anti has sent an anonymous ask to my mutual, but when I do, I get long-winded and really specific about certain things. I’m glad my reply to the initial anon and a later complicated reblog was a source of comfort to you.

Anyway. You have my support Anon. Asks and messages always open!

— ish.

#severusish asks #THANKS FOR THE ASK DEAR #SENDING HUGS!#sshg #pro snape #hp fandom issues #problems with the hp fandom #anti vs pro #discourse #severusish says #ALSO I TEND TO JUST LET PEOPLE DO THEIR THING. best policy tbh.#Snamione #sshg defender

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wangyibofanclub · 3 years ago

Text

An Analysis of the Snape/Hermione Age Gap

It’s been nearly 7 years since I’d read anything Snape/Hermione. Recently, one of my friends recommended to me that I read Pet Project by Caeria (https://www.fanfiction.net/s/2290003/1/Pet-Project). I had actually read this story years ago when I was still in high school, and I remember really liking it. The premise of the story is that Hermione finds that Snape is exhausted and not eating or sleeping well. On top of that, no one seems to care (and much less be grateful) for the work he does for the Order. Hermione, in her strong sense of justice, takes him on as her pet project.

This story begins in Hermione’s Sixth Year and extends to the summer and her Seventh Year. My favorite part about this fic is seeing Hermione grow and mature into a wonderful young woman. Snape also grows to trust her and find himself worthy of love. The other characters grow and change too, and honestly, this author did such a GREAT job of characterizing Ron, not as someone dumb, but as a brilliant strategist. Overall, the character development in this fic was TOP TIER.

The story itself is a really slow burn, and that’s really what I want to get to talking about. If you’re reading this post at this point and you’re thinking, “Snape and Hermione? Gross!” Let me just say: yeah, I get it.

I am not against age gaps in general, mostly because they will always exist. Without doubt, a younger person and an older person will be into each other, and we must learn to let it happen as long as the younger person is of legal age and the relationship occurs with consent. The real issue we must tackle is learning how to not let power imbalances affect relationships.

Power Imbalances

Power imbalances come from the age and position as well as the financial. Older people are more likely to be in more prestigious positions over others, and thus there is potential for using their power to push someone younger into a compromising relationship with them. Someone who is older is also more likely to make more money. In that case, they may have a financial leverage over someone who is younger and struggling more, and the person struggling may be put under their control. These are two things that we must keep in mind when thinking about relationships with large age gaps, and it’s someone that we also have to keep in mind when we consider Snape/Hermione stories.

In Pet Project, it takes a really long time for Snape and Hermione’s relationship to build up. Something that I really like about it is that Snape is at first not really interested in a relationship with Hermione (although to be fair, she isn’t interested in a romantic relationship with him either). It really just is meeting of someone who cares about righting injustices with someone who is not respected or properly thanked for their work. I think that her approach to him, and the start of this relationship, is valiant and admirable.

The Numbers and their Meaning

Within the book series, a relationship between Snape and Hermione is not totally unrealistic. In the final book, Hermione is 18 and Snape is 38. That’s around a 20 year age difference, and when you factor in how Wizards tend to live longer than humans, the proportion of the age gap relative to their life span is lowered.

That being said, we must fully consider what it means for Snape to have been Hermione’s teacher since she was 12 years of age. What does that do in a relationship? Another story that we can look into is Jane Austen’s Emma in which Emma is 16 years younger than her best friend, love interest, and future spouse Mr. Knightly. She says towards the end of the book that he essentially helped raise her and taught her as a young child how to behave. In a relationship between Snape and Hermione, we have to keep in mind those same things too. Snape essentially helped raise Hermione, but Hermione had other positive parental relationships, like with her biological parents and maybe even Dumbledore, McGonagall, and maybe the Weasleys. There is still a chance for Hermione to not think of Snape in any other way than someone who is a teacher in her life.

The most important thing we have to look out for in an age gap in which one person has known the other since they were a child is that there was no grooming. Grooming refers to the set of manipulative behaviors that allow a predator to gain access to a victim, to get them to agree to an abuse. Pet Project is very clear in that the romantic relationship between Snape and Hermione does NOT start before she is of legal age and able to consent freely. Furthermore, the story presents Snape as having some real concerns about what it means to be with such a young woman and he recognizes his limitations as to what he feels he can offer, especially with his job as a spy and his troubled past. The story also demonstrates a real growth into maturity.

Adolescence and Maturity

I would like to briefly touch on the subject of adolescence and maturity. In the past, young people were fairly respected. In fact, it was young people who were considered the revolutionaries of their eras. During the American Revolutionary War, the Founding Fathers and early revolutionaries were as young as 17. Alexander Hamilton, whom we all know, was only 21. In the early 20th century, there was the development of the myth of adolescence by G. Stanley Hall. He proposed that people aren’t fully complete until they reach adulthood. What happened was that young people were made to stay in school for longer times, thus the enforcement of a high school education. This was done so that we could universalize the experiences of “adolescents” and “mass produce” adults according to what society felt was needed.

I understand Hermione is young. However, it would be unfair to characterize her as a child and immature compared to Snape for two reasons. First, to call Hermione a child is to ignore the context in which she lived. She was fighting for her right to live and exist in a Wizarding World as a muggle. She was fighting against a corrupt government. She was learning about who she could and couldn’t trust. Hermione was thrust into a tumultuous environment and forced to grow in ways that perhaps many of us don’t fully understand. Many of us don’t know what it’s like to grow up in war. Those of us who do understand what it’s like to grow under discrimination, however, can understand what it’s like to mature faster and face these ugly realities. Hermione is not a child. Second, it’s unfair to call Hermione immature. Yall, we know some adults who are so immature. There are some young people who are more mature, judicious, and wise than some adults we know. Furthermore, maturity isn’t just a status that you gain at a certain age or at a fixed point. It’s something that we learn, it’s something that exists and can ebb and flow depending on the situation.

Final Thoughts

In Pet Project, I feel that Caeria explores these dimensions of power, age, and development. When authors don’t explore those, we run the risk of portraying their relationship in a way that is unhealthy. I also admit that I did not cover all aspects of Snape and Hermione’s age gap relationship. However, I hope that for those of you that aren’t into their relationship are able to approach it in ways that are more understanding and kind to the concept of age gaps. I hope that for those of us who are into their relationship can do so in a way that is healthy and reasonable.

I ended up leaving the Snape/Hermione ship a couple of years ago. I did this because as I grew, I realized that some of the fics I was reading weren’t satisfying that desire for a thoughtful and healthy approach to their relationship. They didn’t study those dynamics of age as well as I would have liked. After reading Pet Project with a new lens, I can feel myself coming back to this ship with my new knowledge. That being said, I would still personally like to approach Snape/Hermione in a way that is careful. I think that it’s the author of the Snape/Hermione fic The Five Winters, Anubis Ankh that says that a Snape/Hermione relationship story should be slow and reluctant. Considering their power differentials and age gap, I agree that this relationship should be approached with care.

All of this being said, Snape and Hermione are fictional characters, and everyone is welcome to whatever they want with them, hate them or leave them, read them or leave them.

#snamione #snape x hermione #harry potter #severus snape

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plant-flwrs · 4 years ago

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hii! can i request a fred weasley x reader where they're like in their 4th or 5th year and in a secret relationship? like kind of having to sneak around and stuff like that and thinking people don't notice but theymre really obvious? thank u!!

the map’s findings // fred weasley

masterlist!

a/n: did i insinuate lee x george in this? yes, yes i did. no shame. also, i really like the way this fic turned out. i hope u guys do too :D

summary: Harry and Ron think they’ve discovered a secret relationship between you and Fred. Little do they know, they’ve just been clueless to the obvious romance all around them.

(2.8k)

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“Mate,” Harry’s voice was muffled from where his head was tucked under his thick blanket, but Ron turned to him anyways. Ron watched Harry’s black, unruly hair spill from under the covers, followed by the light at the tip of his wand and a folded piece of paper.

“Hm?” Ron hummed, expecting Harry to have woken him from his light sleep because of another nightmare he had about spiders. Ron didn’t remember these nightmares, but Harry told him all about his sleep talking in the morning.

“Come look at this.”

Ron wanted to protest the wakeup call, but his eyes focused in the dark and he realized the paper in Harry’s hands was the map. The map. Ron always woke up for the map.

Ron stumbled from under his covers, his feet landing loudly on the ground. Harry widened his eyes, flicking them to Neville and Seamus, both of them still asleep. Ron tread over more carefully, rubbing the remnants of sleep from his eyes.

“What is it?” he whispered, pulling the curtains closed on Harry’s four poster and sitting on the bed by Harry’s knees.

Harry thrusted the map into Ron’s arms, the tip of his wand, still illuminated, showing him where to look.

Ron’s eyes followed, and his face was turned into a grimace of disgust before he could help it.

“No,” he mumbled, holding the map tighter in his pale and freckled hands and bringing it closer to his face, knocking Harry’s wand away by accident.

“Do you think-” Harry cut himself off, his lips pulled in a sympathetic but worried thin line, his eyes opened in shock beneath his glasses.

“It can’t be,” Ron gasped out in the way Ron gasps when he doesn’t know the answer to something.

“I dunno, mate,” Harry said wistfully, leaning his back against the headboard behind him.

“I’m going to ask George about it tomorrow,” Ron said, standing with dedication but tossing the map back to Harry with hesitation.

On his way back to his bed, Harry heard Ron mumble, “For Merlin’s sake,” and flop into his bed with a new sense of exhaustion.

The next morning, Ron was pleased to wake with no memory of any spider nightmares, and Harry didn’t have the look on his face he usually did when he was about to regale Neville and Seamus with Ron’s asleep ramblings. Harry, however, had a different look on his face. Something mixed with apprehension and excitement.

“Ready?” Harry asked from the doorway, watching as Ron was neglecting to tuck in his shirt tales and tighten his tie, granted to lose Gryffindor some house points if Snape saw his uniform so out of order. Harry decided to leave it to either Hermione or Snape, whichever got to Ron first.

Ron mumbled something in response, swinging his bag over his shoulder and following Harry down the stairs.

“Still going to ask him?” Harry said, slipping past Ron as he held open the portrait for him.

“Who?” Ron said, squinting as his eyes adjusted to the light let into the hallway by the tall, arching windows.

“George,” Harry said, eyeing Ron as he walked beside him.

“What do I have to ask George?” Ron said, hopping over the trick step in the stairs and pausing as Harry did too.

“You don’t remember last night? The map?” Harry turned at the sound of his name, and Ron racked his brain as they waited for Hermione to come down the stairs.

Ron’s eyes lit up when Hermione reached the last step, causing her cheeks to flush. Ron punched Harry’s shoulder.

“Yes! Bloody hell, thanks for reminding me!” Ron started to the Great Hall, not casting Hermione or Harry a second glance to make sure they followed.

“Ron!” Hermione called, shifting her overflowing bag on her shoulder, “Fix your uniform!”

Ron continued to walk ahead of his friends, going to the Gryffindor table while his hands worked away at his uniform.

“What’s got him in such a rush?” Hermione huffed, tightening the hair tie in her hair as she walked with Harry a few paces behind Ron.

“We saw something on the map last night,” Harry mumbled, craning his neck to see over everyone and making sure he didn’t lose sight of the ginger tuft of hair he was following.

Hermione rolled her eyes, refusing to give into the rumors Harry and Ron would be creating today based on something they thought they saw on an enchanted map-- a map they had no idea it’s origin, or it’s creators, or it’s purposes.

George was where he usually was, right beside Lee and Fred as the three of them stuffed their faces with eggs and bacon and toast. His eyes flickered to Ron when he approached, then he sat up straighter when Harry slid next to Ron.

“Boys,” he mumbled, his mouth full of eggs. Next to him, Lee looked up and quirked an eyebrow. Fred was still busy stuffing bacon in his mouth, just about to wipe his greasy fingers on his school sweater.

“George,” Ron said, his voice overly curious and polite in an attempt to hide the information he was holding, “could Harry and I speak to you?”

George’s eyes shifted between Harry and Ron, as if trying to read their minds and determine if this was worth cutting his breakfast short for. He looked down at his nearly empty plate and decided it was.

“Sure,” George stood, wiping his hands on a napkin, and slung his bag onto his shoulder.

“Where ya going?” Fred asked, looking up at George as he stood behind him.

“Ron and Harry want to talk to me, I’ll see you in Minnie’s class.”

Fred chuckled, seeming satisfied with his brother’s response and paid no more attention to it. Harry watched him as they walked back out of the hall, noticing him leaning over to say something into your ear. You flushed, hitting Fred’s shoulder jokingly, and turned back to your friends, ignoring Fred’s burning gaze on the back of your head. Harry turned away, feeling more confident in deciding to skip breakfast for this conversation.

Along the way, Ron slotted himself in an empty part of the table, picking up a stack of toast and eating it as he walked along the aisle.

“Alright,” George said, stuffing his hands into his pants pockets and rocking on his heels, “what’s up?”

“The map-” Harry started, but George stopped him, alarm in his eyes.

“Is something wrong with it?” George asked, lowering his voice and stepping closer to Harry, “What happened?”

“No,” Ron said, stepping closer to George and Harry as he finished off his last piece of toast, “No, we saw something on it.”

George relaxed and leaned away, propping himself against the stone wall in the hallway.

“That’s to be expected,” he said, smirking.

“Yes, we know,” Harry answered, avoiding Ron’s annoyed huff.

“We saw something in your dorm last night,” Ron said, his tone harsh and hurried.

George didn’t answer, only narrowed his eyes and waited for the younger boys to continue.

“Y/n was in your dorm last night,” Harry said slowly, then glanced at Ron, who nodded him on, “in Fred’s four poster.”

George let out a surprised laugh that echoed in the hallway like a cackle. Harry adjusted his glasses awkwardly and Ron shifted his weight between his feet as they waited for George to calm down.

“He’s such an idiot!” George managed in his laughter, bringing his hand to his face to either smother the sound or wipe his tears, “I knew it was only a matter of time!”

Harry glanced at Ron, both of them holding a look of curiosity and slight worry in their brows. The boys had thought they had unearthed a scandalous secret, and in Harry’s secret wishes, he had drifted off to sleep imagining a scenario in which George would be so pleased with Harry and Ron for telling him that he’d enlist them to help him prank Fred. Harry saw that secret wish drifting out of his grasp as George’s laughter failed to subside.

“George!” Ron finally groaned, stomping his foot a little.

“You two,” George said with an admiring tone before he swiped a hand over his now pink face.

George was too overcome with laughter to pay any mind to the boys, so he simply walked back into the hall, pleased to see food was still being served. He had worked up quite the appetite with all that laughing.

“What’d they want?” Lee asked as George slipped beside him.

“Tell ya later,” George managed before suffocating his laughter with a forkful of eggs.

Fred had paid his twin no mind, once again, his gaze still on you. You had been hiding your face from him since George had left, giggling with your friends in an attempt to avoid Fred’s knowing and painfully flirtatious gaze.

On their way to Transfiguration, Lee walked beside George. Fred trailed behind his friend and brother, walking on the outskirts of the herd of girls you traveled in.

George lowered his head, his mouth close to Lee’s ear so they could talk in a more private way.

“Ron and Harry told me something quite interesting,” George said mysteriously, his eyes trained on Lee’s face.

“What?” Lee said, enthused at the idea of a secret.

“Harry said he saw Y/n in our dorm last night, on the map, in Fred’s bed.”

Lee’s reaction was very much similar to George’s when Harry and Ron told him. It gathered Fred’s attention, and he jogged a bit to catch up with the two, leaving your group behind.

“What’s so funny, mate?” Fred slung his arm around Lee’s slightly shorter shoulders, jostling him as he laughed.

“Told him about your prank idea,” George lied easily, “I reckon he likes it.”

Lee nodded at Fred, who smiled smugly. The rest of the short walk to class was spent with Lee falling into fits of giggles every time George looked at him.

The common room fire crackled loudly, but could not be heard over the bustle of students. With classes let out and the weather outside being dreadful, everyone went to their respective common rooms for the evening.

George and Lee were spread out on the couch, their legs entangled in the middle with each of their heads perched on the armrests at opposite ends. Lee flipped through a Quidditch magazine while George flipped through the new Zonko's catalogue. Both of them were aware of Fred’s absence.

Harry and Ron came through the portrait hole. Ron was squeezing out his drenched bag, tracking a trail of mud into the room as Harry undid his soggy tie from around his equally soggy shirt collar.

“I told you-” Hermione said as she came in behind them, seeming to be completely dry.

“Yes, ‘Mione, we know,” Harry cut her off, digging through his bag for his wand.

Hermione cast a cleaning charm at Ron’s feet, then at the rug he had dirited. The drying spell came from her wand just as easily, leaving Harry and Ron with frizzy hair and dry clothes.

Ron fell onto the floor in front of the couch George and Lee were on, dumping his wet school books onto the coffee table. Harry did the same, though a bit more gracefully. Hermione walked past them and up the stairs to her dorm.

“See anything else interesting on the map today?” Lee snickered, his magazine now resting on his chest as he looked at the boys.

George chuckled, untangling himself from Lee and sitting up. He made no protests when Lee rearranged his legs to fall across George’s lap.

Ron flushed, perhaps in frustration or embarrassment, and scoffed as he riffled through his books.

“Let us in on the joke, George,” Harry pleaded, slumping in his spot on the ground and abandoning his soaked books.

“I dunno...” George teased, resting his warm hands on Lee’s shins as he pretended to be in deep thought, “Should we, Lee?”

Lee perked up, sitting up as his legs stayed in their position on George. He mimicked George’s look before he nodded reluctantly.

“Might as well, everyone else knows,” he flung his legs from George’s, sitting so his shoulder bumped against George’s. George willed his face not to blush. He didn’t think anyone as thick as Ron and Harry would notice, seeing as they still had no idea about you and Fred.

“C’mon!” Ron whined, half at George and half at the smudged ink on his newly written Charms essay.

“Alright,” George said, “We’ll let you in on the secret.”

George leaned forwards, and Harry and Ron shuffled to the other side of the coffee table, closer to the other boys. They were perched on their knees like children waiting for a bedtime story, expectantly looking to George and Lee.

“Fred and Y/n have been fooling around for a couple of months,” George paused for dramatic effect and waited as Ron and Harry shared blushing faces and smug looks, “They don’t think anyone knows, but practically everyone does.”

“Is that why-” Harry started, his mouth forming into an ‘o’ shape as George began nodding his head.

Harry thought back to all the odd comments people on the Quidditch team had made every time Fred was late for practice. Why Angelina didn’t have him running excruciating drills every time he was late, as she did everyone else. All the sly looks Fred made towards the student section at one particular person.

“So, the map was right? They were-” Ron cut himself off at George’s nodding, his face distorting into disgust.

“Hello, losers,” Ginny said, coming from the dormitory stairs.

Harry straightened instinctually. George glanced between Harry, Ron, and Ginny, absolutely in awe at how his little brother could be so clueless when it came to romance. George and Lee instinctually moved away from each other, now that they were in the presence of someone with an actual insight to the world.

“Hey, Gin,” Ron said, his voice low as if he had a lot on his mind.

“What are you lot talking about?” She fell into an armchair that had been pulled close to the couch, so they could still all talk in a low voice and hear each other.

Harry and Ron shared a glance, then looked to George and Lee as if they were asking for permission. George shrugged his shoulders, falling deeper into the couch.

“Y/n and Fred,” Harry said, his eyes searching Ginny’s face for a hint as to if what George and Lee had told them was as well known as they said.

Ginny rolled her eyes and chuckled good-naturedly, “Finally.”

George smirked at the look of shock on Ron and Harry’s faces.

The rain fell against the window in a soothing pattern, and you could have watched it for hours. Your eyes fell upon two drops, watching them race to the bottom of the glass before they joined the rushing water sliding off the building.

Beneath you, Fred’s chest rose and fell in a calming rhythm, a reminder that he was still there when you were too lost in the views of the window.

Fred’s gaze was on your face, as it usually was, and his long fingers were lost somewhere in your hair. You felt his fingertips brush against your ear every once and awhile, also a reminder he was there.

Fred licked his lips, watching your eyes move up and down towards the window. He watched the way your teeth snagged your bottom lip occasionally, watched the way your cheeks would hollow when you subconsciously pursed your lips in thought. Fred watched his own hands on you, one in your hair and the other wrapped around your waist.

Your chin rested on his chest, laid diagonally across the bed so you could see out of the window and so Fred could see you.

“When do you reckon Lee and George are going to tell us?” you said, breaking the comfortable silence that had been between you two. You shifted your head, resting your cheek against his chest and looking up at him.

“When we tell them we know, I’d guess,” Fred said, looking down at you with lidded eyes.

You hummed in agreeance, closing your eyes and hoping Fred would do the same so you could both nap. He didn’t.

“When should we tell them about us?” he asked, a hint on unease in his voice as he waited for your response.

You didn’t open your eyes, “When they tell us they know.”

Fred’s chest moved with a chuckle that escaped his throat, causing you to bounce slightly beneath him. His fingers brushed away hair that had fallen into your face, and his eyes fell closed.

“That’s fair,” he mumbled, shifting his head on the pillows beneath him and drifting off to sleep.

#fred weasley #fred #weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley fic #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n #george weasley x lee jordan #georeg weasley #lee jordan #fred weasley secret relationship #hogwarts #harry potter #ron weasley

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fanfics4all · 4 years ago

Text

Malfoy Manor

Request: Yes / No

Requests are closed <3 Have a nice day/night

Draco Malfoy x Fem!Diggory!Reader

Word count: 3024

Warnings: Being torchered, brother dying, I believe that’s all

Y/N: Your Name

A/N: Bingo card made by @slyttherins

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK!

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Masterlist

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

“The Hogwarts champion…” Dumbledore called and a piece of parchment flew from the flame.

“Cedric Diggory!” He said and everyone cheered. I was cheering the loudest, I was so proud of my older brother.

“Excellent! We now have our three champions! But in the end only one will go down in history. Only one will hoist this chalice of champions, this vessel of victory the Tri-Wizard cup!” Once again people cheered, but the goblet glowed red once again and another singed parchment flew out. Everyone quieted down as Dumbledore grabbed the parchment and read it.

“Harry Potter.” He said in a hushed tone, but everyone could hear because of how silent the room was.

“Harry Potter?” He called louder.

“No...no!” Hagrid expressed.

“Harry Potter!” Dumbledore shouted. Everyone watched in shock as Harry slowly walked up to the front. Dumbledore gave him the parchment and people started shouting in anger.

“He’s a cheat! He’s not even seventeen yet!” Someone shouted. My boyfriend Draco was very upset by this. He couldn’t believe Harry was once again being the center of attention. However, he wasn’t the only one. Everyone seemed to be upset that Harry was also a champion. This obviously pleased Draco.

As much as I liked Harry and he was my friend, Cedric was my brother and I was going to fully cheer for him. The first challenge was to retrieve a golden egg from a dragon. Each competitor was getting a different dragon and I hoped with all my heart that Cedric would be alright. I watched as they brought out a Swedish Short-Snout with the golden egg in place. A cannon went off and everyone watched to see who was first. Cedric walked out and everyone from Hogwarts cheered, just about the whole school was cheering for him. I watched my brother take in his surroundings and he smiled at me. The dragon screamed which brought his attention back to it. He thought quickly and used a Transfiguration spell to change one of the rocks into a dog. The dog barked and brought the dragon’s attention away from my brother. Cedric went for the egg, but the dragon was smart and moved his attention back to him. The dragon shot fire towards him and it hit him in the face.

“Cedric!” I shouted, fear clear in my voice. Draco pulled me towards him and held me tightly. Cedric didn’t let that stop him and he retrieved the egg. Everyone cheered and they got the dragon under control. Cedric was taken to the hospital wing and Draco and pulled me along to see him.

The second task was after the Yule Ball, which was a break my brother needed after being burned. Luckily he was alright, but I realized how dangerous these tasks really were. All four of the champions stood at the edge of the platform on the Black Lake. They were told they had to retrieve something that was stolen from them. All four of them jumped into the lake and none of us could really see what was happening beneath the surface. Cedric returned first with his girlfriend Cho. Hogwarts students erupted in cheers when he raised above the water. The two swam to the platform and were pulled up onto it. I hugged Draco and rushed down to my brother. He was first and safe!

Like the second task, no one knew what was happening during the final task. All four champions had to go into a maze and one would return as the Champion. Cedric and Harry both got a head start since they tied for first last task. The cannon rang and they were off into the maze.

“Go Cedric!” I cheered as he jogged inside. He turned back to me with a smile as the bushes closed behind him. It wasn’t long before the other two champions joined them in the maze. However it felt like forever until someone returned with the cup. It turned out to be Harry and people cheered. I also cheered for my friend, but my cheers died in my throat as I noticed what he was hunched over.

“Cedric?” I whispered, catching Draco’s attention. Tears formed in my eyes and I ran down to see my brother. Our Father pushed his way through and he cried, falling to his knees beside him.

“Cedric?” I asked, also dropping down next to him. I gently shook him, denying that he was dead.

“Ced? Come on, this isn’t funny!” I cried and shook him a little rough.

“Y/N, love, he’s not asleep…” Draco said quietly, trying to pull me away.

“N-No… No! He can’t be!” I cried.

“How did this happen?” I asked, turning to Harry.

“Voldemort, he’s back. He killed him.” Harry cried and my eyes widened. That monster killed my brother… Draco pulled me to him as I cried harder.

I knew that was the start of the war. That wasn’t the year it really started, but that was the year people’s fear really set in. The real start of the war started the summer before year seven. After Cedric died Harry made sure to watch after me. He told me it was my brother’s wish to watch after me. The first few months I didn’t want to be near Harry, but I realized it wasn’t his fault. That’s why when I found out Draco had taken his mark, I ran right to Harry. He became very protective of me after that, but I never actually broke things off with Draco. I still loved him, despite the choice he made.

Harry took me with Hermione and Ron on his quest to find all the horcruxes. A task given to him before Dumbledore was killed by Snape. Harry told me about how Draco was meant to do it, but couldn’t. I wanted to send him a letter, but that would put us all in jeopardy. However, after a scary meeting with Luna’s Father we apparated somewhere safer.

“They’ve kidnapped Luna because he supported me. He was just desperate.” Harry reasoned. No one said anything as we all got off the ground.

“I’ll do the enchantments.” Ron said, taking his wand out. Hermione stopped him, her eyes glanced at the trees and her breathing stopped. The three of us looked the same way she was and our eyes widened. Snatchers came from behind the trees and had smirks on their faces. One of them had Hermione’s scarf around his neck and smelled it.

“Hello, beautiful.” He said, it was Scabior. All four of us started running, splitting off from one another hoping we wouldn’t get caught. I was unfortunately clumsy and tripped on a tree root, which led to me being caught. The man roughly pulled me to my feet, took my wand, and dragged me with him. We entered a clearing and I was shoved to the ground. Ron was pulled along and also shoved to the ground by another snatcher. Hermione and a messed up looking Harry were already there, now surrounded by snatchers. Scabior took their wands.

“Don’t touch her!” Ron shouted and Grayback punched him.

“Stop it!” Hermione begged.

“Your boyfriend’ll get worse than that if he doesn't behave, lovely.” Scabior said, painting her face with the light from his wand. He turned it towards Harry, it made it really clear how messed up his face actually was.

“What happened to you, ugly?” He asked. Harry felt his face and now realized what happened.

“What’s your name?” He asked.

“Dudely. Vernon Dudley.” Harry answered.

“Check the list. And you, ginger?” He asked Ron.

“Stan Shunpile.” Ron lied.

“Like ‘ell you are. We know skinny Stan. Try again.” He said and Grayback, who was holding Ron down pressed his boot into his neck.

“Weasley… Barney Weasley.” He strained out.

“Weasley, eh? Wouldn’t be related to that blood traitor Arthur Weasley, would you?” He asked.

“Piss off! Arthur Weasley’s ten times the wizard you are!” Ron growled.

“Worth ten times you if I can find him. Wasn’t you that tipped him off, was it?” He asked. Ron said nothing and the man turned his attention to me.

“How ‘bout you? What’s your name?” He asked.

“June Hazel.” I lied.

“Pretty name, but don’t fit your face.” He said and turned to Hermione.

“Penelope Clearwater. Half-blood.” She answered. He took her hair in his hand and sniffed it.

“You smell like vanilla, Penelope. I think you’re going to be my favorite.” He said.

“I call this one. She smells like strawberries.” The man that grabbed me pulled me up and sniffed my hair. I gulped and held my breath, tears brimming my eyes.

“There’s no Vernon Dudley on ‘ere.” Another snatcher said. Scabior turned his attention to Harry.

“Hear that, ugly? The list says you’re lying. How come you don’t want us to know who you are? Hm?” He asked.

“The list is wrong. I told you who I am-” Scabior put his finger to Harry’s lips, stopping Harry from continuing. His want was probing Harry’s face.

“Change of plans, boy. We won’t be taking this lot to the Ministry.” He said after a moment. Each one grabbed us, taking out stuff from us as well. They apperated us and suddenly we were at Malfoy Manor…

Scabior and the others took us past the yew hedges. All of us were scared about what was waiting for us inside the dark looking house. We started slowing down as we neared the gate. Bellatrix, Lucius, and Narcissa Malfoy were on the other side. Scabior grabbed Harry by the arm and pushed his face up against the iron bars. Bellatrix stepped closer.

“Show me.” She said. Scabior reached up and pushed Harry’s hair off his forehead. Bellatrix pointed her wand, illuminating his face. Slowly a creepy smile appeared on her face. The four of us were taken inside and Bellatrix took Harry. She pushed him down to his knees and waited for Narcissa to return with Draco. He walked into the room with his Mother and my heart clenched. His eyes widened when he saw me.

“Draco!” His Aunt called, snapping both of us out of our haze. Draco walked towards his Aunt and she pulled Harry up by his hair.

“Well?” She asked with a hopeful smile.

“I can’t be sure.” Draco answered after a moment.

“Look closely son, if we are the ones to hand Potter over to the Dark Lord, everything would be forgiven, all would be as it was, understand?” Lucius said and you could tell they were all scared, but especially Draco.

“Now we won’t be forgettin who actually caught him. I hope, Mr. Malfoy.” Scabior said.

“You dare to talk to me like that in my own house!” Lucius shouted.

“Lucius!” Narcissa scolded him in a whisper and pulled him away from Draco.

“Don’t be shy, sweetie. Come over.” His Aunt grabbed his hand and pulled him towards Harry. Draco kneeled in front of him and I bit my lip. Please don’t give him up Draco…

“Now, if this isn’t who we think it is, Draco, and we call him, he’ll kill us all. We need to be absolutely sure.” Bellatrix said.

“What’s wrong with his face?” Draco asked after a moment of studying Harry.

“Yes, what is wrong with his face?” Bellatrix asked Scabior.

“He came to us like that. Somethin’ he picked up in the forest I reckon.” Scabior answered.

“Or ran into a stinging jinx. Was it you dearie?” Bellatrix asked Hermione, walking over to us.

“Give me her wand, we’ll see what her last spell was.” She said. The three of us looked worried and Bellatrix laughed.

“Got you.” She said and turned her attention to the snatcher with our wands.

“What is that?” She asked when she looked at him.

“Where’d you get that from?” She asked him, referring to the sword.

“It was in that one’s bag when we searched her, reckon it’s mine now.” He said pointing at me with a smirk. Bellatrix went crazy and started choking the snatchers, making them let go of us. She took the sword as everyone looked on confused and scared.

“Out! Go!” She shouted at them letting her spells fall. The snatchers ran out, fearing for their lives.

“Sissy, put the boys and this one in the cellar! I want to have a conversation with this one! Girl to girl!” She shouted and grabbed me. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were dragged down to the cellar by Narcissa and Wormtail. She pushed me onto the floor and got on top of me.

“That sword is meant to be in my vault in Gringotts. How did you get it?” She hissed.

“What else did you and your friends take from my vault!?” She shouted.

“We didn’t take anything! Please! We didn’t take anything!” I begged, crying.

“I don’t believe you.” She said and moved to my arm, carving something into it with her sharp knife.

“No! Please! We didn’t take anything!” I screamed in pain.

“Stop it!” Draco shouted and they turned to me.

“She said she didn’t take anything, leave her alone!” He said.

“Draco?” His Mother questioned with a kind, yet waring tone.

“You care for this one, don’t you?” Bellatrix asked with a smirk.

“Please, just stop.” Draco begged, his eyes never leaving me.

“Who is she?” His Aunt asked.

“She’s my girlfriend…” He admitted.

“Is she-”

“Yes, she’s a Pure-blood, please let her go.” He begged, cutting his Father off.

“What’s her family name?” Lucius asked.

“Diggory.” He answered.

“A Hufflepuff? Are you Mad? She-”

“Let her go Bellatrix.” Narcissa said, cutting her husband off.

“But they were in my vault!” She shouted.

“Question the goblin then, let her go.” She said, standing her ground. Bellatrix got off me and Draco rushed to help me up. He pulled me off to the side with his parents and sat me in one of the chairs.

“You’re alright, love.” He whispered as he held me. Ron, Hermione, and Harry suddenly came up the stairs and got Bellatrix’s wand from her. The three of them started fighting with the Malfoys. Bellatrix grabbed me and held her knife to my throat.

“Stop!” She shouted and everyone looked our way.

“Drop your wands. I said drop em!” She shouted. The three dropped their wands and everyone was still staring at us.

“Draco, grab em.” She said and he did as he was told.

“Well, well, well, look what we have here.” She said, walking closer with her knife still at my throat.

“It’s Harry Potter.” She said in my ear, but it was loud enough for everyone to hear.

“He’s all bright, and shiny, and new again.” She said as Harry’s face turned back to normal.

“Just in time for the Dark Lord.” She said.

“Call him.” She said, but no one moved.

“Call him!” She said again, but louder. Draco stayed in his place, so his Father stepped up and revealed his dark mark. He went to call him, but an odd squeaking started happening. Everyone looked up and Dobby was sitting atop the chandelier undoing a screw or something. It suddenly dropped and she pushed me as she ran back to avoid getting hit. I fell to the ground as Ron grabbed Hermione and Harry went to get their wands. Once Draco lost the small battle with Harry he rushed over to me.

“Are you alright?” He asked as Lucius was shot back by Harry.

“I’m fine…” I whispered.

“Stupid elf, you could have killed me!” Bellatrix shouted.

“Dobby never meant to kill. He only meant to maim or seriously injure.” He said. Narcissa went to shoot a spell at them, but Dobby snapped his fingers and her wand was then in his hands. While everyone was distracted by what Dobby did, Draco pulled me up and out of the room. He took me up to his room and sat me on his bed.

“Let me see your arm, love.” He whispered. I showed him and saw she had carved ‘Blood Traitor’ into my arm. Tears welled in my eyes as I noticed the blood still falling from my fresh mark.

“Hey, look at me, it’s not true.” He said, gently caressing my face.

“But it is though, you know it is.” I whispered.

“No, not here it isn’t. You can’t let them see that side of you. If I want to keep you safe I either have to let you go or ask you to do something you might never forgive yourself, or me for that matter, for.” He said, his voice breaking.

“B-But I can’t bear to let you go again. I thought I lost you when I told you the truth…” He whispered.

“W-What do I have to do to stay?” I whispered. He looked at me with wide eyes.

“You’d have to take his mark…” He whispered. My heart stopped, but I didn’t know where Harry and the others were. It was either stay with Draco or go out alone…

“If it means I get to stay with you then I will…” I answered.

“Love, this is serious. I can get you out of here without anyone knowing all you have to do-” I cut him off with a kiss.

“I can’t lose you again either. I thought you were dead this whole time, I can’t go through that again.” I said, resting my forehead on his.

“You’ll never forgive me…” He said, letting his tears fall.

“I’ll always forgive you. I love you Draco Malfoy.” I said. Draco pulled me in for a gentle and loving kiss. Something we both desperately needed.

“I promise, when all this is over I’m going to get you a ring and give you the perfect life you deserve.” He said and I smiled.

“As long as you’re in my life, it is perfect.” I said and pecked his lips again. No matter what happens, as long as I still have Draco still in my life everything will be alright. He was the only thing I had left. He was the only one I really needed.

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