#either that or he's afraid hermione is going to punch him again

[iamnmbr3]

ok the fact that Draco hasn’t come over even once to mock Harry about the Rita Skeeter article claiming he and Hermione are an item leads me to conclude that he is living in fear of it being true and thus doesn't find it funny

[comfortwriting]

A Triwizard Baby Part 2 - F.W

Masterlist, Writing Prompt Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Taglist

This is Part 2 of The Triwizard Baby Series, you can read part 1 here.

Want to be tagged? Let me know!

Fred Weasley x Fem Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Pregnancy, Mention of Abortion, alcohol.

"Oh come on, Y/N." Fred begged again "Please!"

"I said no!" You hissed, slapping Fred's hand away from you, storming past him and hurrying to the bathroom, feeling more nauseous than ever.

Clutching your stomach, you fell down onto your knees and hurled yourself over the toilet, vomiting up your porridge and pumpkin juice. At the moment, mornings were cruel to you - your stomach would churn and you had to endure feeling sick, and most often vomiting up your food. You didn't think anything of it, you told yourself you got food poisoning, or one of your potions had bad side effects, but in reality, as you discovered, food and potions weren't responsible for your morning sickness - Fred's baby was.

"Miss Y/L/N, it appears that you're pregnant." Madame Pomfrey announced, handing you the strange plastic stick, pointing at the tiny circle window with a plus sign inside that stared up at you.

You put your head in your hands and sighed, starting to shake, tears filling your eyes.

"I-I don't know what to do."

"Do you want to keep it?"

"I don't know"

"Do you want to terminate the pregnancy?"

"I-I don't know, just give me time to think."

Wracking your brain and trying to think of how you could explain this to your parents, and thinking about your future, Madame Pomfrey walked across the room, sorting through various potions, you could hear the glass bottles knocking over and clinking against one another. Walking back over to you, she handed you a deep purple potion that was misty and looked sparkly when hit by the light.

"Take this once a day, each morning until you know what you want. This potion will hide any indication of pregnancy as the weeks pass by. You'll still experience the usual side effects, but the most this will do is hide your growing bump."

"The usual side effects?" you scoffed "You're saying this as if this has happened to me before, I-"

Madame Pomfrey shook her head at you "You're in here, in a complete pickle on your own because of Fred Weasley" she said quietly, in case any students were now inside the hospital wing.

You swallowed hard, was your love for him that obvious?

"You're not the first girl of his to end up here" she grumbled "And I doubt you'll be the last!"

Fred knocked other girls up? Who? Did you know them? Did they secretly keep the baby?

Everything started to make your head spin, even more, you pulled the top off the potion and necked a tiny drop down, it tasted bitter yet spicy, you could feel a tingling in your tummy.

"If you run out, you know where to find me," Madame Pomfrey said, ushering around you, fluffing up pillows and making the beds "Now, you better be off!"

You were in shock - not just about being pregnant and hiding it, but the whole night in general from what you could remember. One minute you were snogging your best friend, being cheered on by everyone around you, the next minute you were having sex, then you woke up in the morning with a pounding headache and a hangover from hell - which led you to this moment: you were already one month into your pregnancy, and no one aside from Madame Pomfrey and Dumbledore knew.

You didn't want to terminate the pregnancy, but you didn't want to raise the child either, you felt lost and afraid, and you had no one to talk to - but in the next week or so, you would either have the support of your family or you would be disowned.

"What's up with her?" George asked Fred, looking around after waiting for you to return to the great hall.

"I don't know, Georgie." Fred answered, feeling pissed off "She's been more distant, after the first task she just.. she's changed."

Fred couldn't remember anything from that night, the next morning he woke up and you were already out of his bed, and no one mentioned what happened because they were going through hangovers from hell too - what did they expect? you were the master of drinking games, and no one could ever keep up with you.

You couldn't face Fred after the night you shared together, your brain warned you to stay away from him, to run in the other direction - screaming, whilst your heart cried for him, calling out his name and screaming at you - begging you to run to him with open arms.

You were frightened, alone, and felt ashamed, how could you bring a child up so young during your studies? how could you tell your best friend that you were carrying his child? how could you explain that you were now forever tied to him whether he liked it or not? You decided that you shouldn't and wouldn't tell him, from what you knew of - Fred couldn't remember what happened that night and you were satisfied, the least he could remember the better.

"Probably her time of the month or something, Freddie, don't overthink it."

Fred sighed "Well I’ve been planning to ask Angelina to the ball, I thought she'd get jealous when I took my time to ask her, but she didn't care."

George nodded, trying to think about what could have caused you to be so distant and moody, even George knew your periods and mood swings weren't that bad.

"I'm not giving up on her though" Fred continued, crossing his arms "by the end of the week she'll be on my arm, I can't turn up to watch the Yule Ball without a lass now can I?"

Tomorrow was The Yule Ball, a formal dance held on the evening of Christmas Day. Before realising you were pregnant, you had picked out a dress, you even got excited with the possibility that Fred would ask you - but now you needed to avoid him at all costs, seeing his face and turning him down once more would hurt your heart more than it deserved.

After taking a shower, you stared at your tummy through the mirror, realising that in a couple of weeks time, it would become more obvious that you were pregnant, and remember that you would need to rely on the potion to keep things a secret.

"Okay" you whispered to yourself "Don't forget, don't let the brain fog get you into trouble."

Drying yourself, you pulled on your clothes, constantly repeating the potion, and your plan in your head.

Walking out of the common room and down the stairs, turning around and walking down the hall, a loud whistle made you jump, Fred was following you.

"Don't ignore me, love, you know it's rude."

You glared at Fred, your heart and head both at war just by the sight of him and the sound of his voice.

"The answer is still no Fred, just leave me alone."

Don't look at him, don't get attached to his baby - stop it - just keep walking.

"Is it seriously too much to ask?" Fred hissed "It's just Yule Ball, not a bloody date!"

"I'm aware, Fred!" you raised your voice, feeling stressed, sick, and drained "No, I'm not going with you, just please - leave me alone."

Fred didn't chase after you, he stopped in his tracks and burned holes in the back of your head. He didn't understand, why were you avoiding him? why did you suddenly hate him after being best friends, inseparable for so many years? did he say something wrong? did he look at you funny? he didn't know, and he couldn't put his finger on the strange feeling clawing inside him.

Fred’s heart split in two, and he wouldn’t let you get away with doing this - he would get you back in the cruellest way possible, he had to make you jealous.

“Fine!” he yelled at you “I’ll ask someone else! Someone worth my time!”

The Yule Ball was underway, Fred had managed to ask out Angelina, Hermione with Krum, everyone with a partner - even those who weren’t happy about it, like Ron and Harry. You, however, were sat in the empty Hospital Wing, with Madame Pomfrey and your parents.

The huge lump kept forming in your throat, no matter how many times you kept swallowing it down. You couldn't keep still, your feet were tapping against the floor and you kept picking at the thread on your skirt.

"So what seems to be the issue?" your mum asked politely.

You stared at the thread, avoiding all eye contact.

Madame Pomfrey cleared her throat "Well, Mr and Mrs Y/L/N, you have been called into this meeting today as you need to be made aware of something that involves your daughter, Y/N. This matter will give us all plenty to discuss, and plenty of choices for Y/N to decide."

"What is it, sweetheart?" your dad asked, holding the hand of his wife.

Tears welled in your eyes again, your vision going like Harry's before the Gilliweed would take effect in a few months time.

"Please don't get mad" you croaked, finally looking up at your parents, staring at their concerned, soft faces "I-I'm pregnant."

Your parents went quiet, exchanging looks, appearing to be concerned, and quite shocked, but they understood - and they were going to get you through this.

“I know you’re scared, Y/N,” your mother said softly “You’re so young, raising a baby whilst being a baby - our baby - yourself.”

“We were young parents,” your father added quietly “it wasn’t easy, but we pulled through, we will support you, please don’t be ashamed.”

“The worst thing is” you choked, tears falling onto your skirt “I don’t even have the heart to tell him, he can’t remember what happened.”

Your mum got out of her seat and hurried over to you, pulling you into her arms, stroking your head as you wept, reassuring you.

“Is Fred the father?” Your mum asked under her breath, hoping her husband wouldn’t add him to his hit-list.

You nodded your head “yes” you sniffled “he is.”

“Now,” Madame Pomfrey huffed “I don’t want you going to that ball, you need to keep yourself safe, the baby needs to be safe.”

Well, you can’t join the dance or drink the spiked punch, but that doesn’t mean you can’t watch from a distance, does it?

Sitting down at the table behind Harry and Ron’s, you watched everyone dance with smiles on their faces, falling in love with their date for the night. You felt left out, quite bummed, and worst of all, you now had to watch the love of your life, the father of your child, mess with you on purpose.

Fred’s eyes meet with yours, his pained heart softens for a moment before remembering what you had done to him, and how you would get what you deserved. Dancing with Angelina, Fred gripped her hand, smirking at you before pulling her in for a deep, passionate kiss.

It felt as if time had stood still, your heart - like Fred’s - split in half, tears formed in your eyes and you felt sick, mortified, and betrayed. Pushing your chair out from the table, you got to your feet and ran away, leaving everyone behind as you rushed to the common room.

How could he do this to you? Why would he do this!

You felt stupid, you were getting attached to his child when you wanted nothing more than to be free - but this baby was the only piece of Fred you could ever have, and for all his faults, and mind games, you wanted to be close to him in any way that you could, no matter what.

Bursting into the common room, George gave you a sympathetic look, stopping his conversation with his friend Matt.

“You alright love?” he asked, his ginger hair lighter from the flickering flames.

You wanted to tell him, tell somebody, you couldn’t hide this anymore.

“Are you?” you asked, walking over them, sitting down on the floor by the fire.

“Not really, no” George replied “My twin brother is dancing with the girl I love, bit shit really.”

“Why have you been so distant?” Matt asked, “George and Fred are worried about you.”

This was it, you had to tell them, your words coming up like vomit.

“After the first challenge, when we attended that party when Fred and I kissed - that night went much further - I’m... I’m pregnant with his kid.” You admitted quietly “I don’t know what to do, I’m in love with him, and he can’t remember a thing, and he’s dancing with Angelina - he snogged her infront of me knowing I was watching him!”

You started to cry, hurt and fury ignited inside of George, everything starting to make sense - your absence, your morning sickness, you constantly clutching your tummy in protection when people bumped into you.

“Are you going to tell him?” George asked.

You shook your head “No, and the both of you aren’t going to tell him either, you need to promise me.”

George loved Fred, hell, twins are inseparable for crying out loud, but right now, George didn’t care about his loyalty to Fred, he hated him, he fucked you over and will most likely be fucking his crush tonight.

“I promise” he muttered, “it’s no one else choice, but yours.”

“That goes for who you tell, and for what you decide is best for you and the baby,” Matt added.

Feeling slightly better, you got to your feet and pulled Matt in for a quick hug, and then pulled George in for a close and warm embrace “thank you” you whispered in his ear, nuzzling your face into his neck.

Now three months pregnant, you were heavily reliant on the potion that deflated your bump, the only person to see it was George - who teared up and rested his hand upon it, wishing you were with someone better than his stupid brother.

Fred leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, staring at you and George talking, why was it that you acted as if he didn’t exist yet you were all over his brother? Was he fucking you behind his back? Did you prefer the twin you didn’t know as much over your best friend? Is this why his twin avoided him at all costs?

With the second challenge only a day away, Fred wanted to patch things up with you in time so he wouldn’t have to go to the second challenge alone, although he asked Angelina to the ball - and they had a good time - she wasn’t you, and he missed you more than he would like to admit.

Walking past to go to Divination, Fred stepped out in front of you, stopping you from getting past.

“Quite fond of Georgie now, aren’t you?”

“Let me through, Fred, I don’t want to be late.”

“Only if you go to the second challenge with me” he smirked, getting his hopes up.

You scoffed “Looks like I’ll have to skip this class then.” You turned your back on Fred, walking away from him, leaving him to feel frustrated and pissed off.

Missing out on the challenge, you went through everything you needed to buy for the baby and everything you would need to learn to make sure you were the most amazing mum. You were content with your decision to keep it, that little piece of Fred you could nurture forever.

With Harry succeeding down to moral fibre, you knew there would be endless parties tonight - Fred fucking another girl, probably getting her pregnant as he did you, just to not remember and move on to the next girl.

You loved him so much, but you hated him at the same time.

Feeling yourself finally doze off to sleep, the lights in your doom room flicked on, and heavy feet thundered into the room, startling you and waking you up. Your best friend and her mini group brought the party to you, holding a bottle of fire whiskey with your name on it.

“Get up Y/N!” she yelled, jumping on your bed and bouncing, the other girls cheering and laughing in the back.

You clutched onto your bump, the potion wearing off as it did in the night.

Sitting up in your bed, your best friend got on her knees, opening the bottle and shoving it in your face, the scent of the drink you swallowed down like water making you sick to your stomach - reminding you of the night you had too much.

“DRINK! DRINK! DRINK!” Your friends chanted.

“No!” you hissed “I can’t!”

The rim of the bottle hit your lips, and you couldn’t take it anymore.

“I can’t!” you yelled, silencing them “I’m pregnant!”

The girls stopped and stared at you, fire whiskey spilling out of the bottle and onto your bedsheets. Your heart thumped, your best friend’s eyes were wider than you had ever seen.

“Y/N is having a baby!” Katie squeezed in excitement, jumping on the bed, clapping her hands.

Thanks to Katie, the shock dissipated, and your friends were now supporting you, rubbing your back as you cried, and going through the list of baby things you needed: clothes, nappies, bottles, food, a crib, a pram. They were more excited than you, already arguing over whether it would be a girl or a boy, and who would be the better auntie.

They had a feeling that you didn’t want to tell them everything just yet - and luckily enough, they didn't make you, for now - they just wanted you to know that you weren’t alone, that you were surrounded by help if you ever needed it.

Fred stumbled into his dorm room, fire whiskey on his lips, and red lipstick marks on his neck. His brother George, and friend Matt sat on their beds and glared at him, the two of them looking so angry Fred was convinced they were going to rip his head off.

Fred shrugged his shoulders and got into bed - he had the worst night imaginable - every girl he kissed wasn’t you, his heart didn’t mend - it just broke even more, and from what he gathered - you and George were seeing each other behind his back.

He closed his eyes, drifted off to sleep, and met you in his dreams - holding you close, and swearing that he would never let you go.

taglist: @amourtentiaa @horrorxweasley @alwaysnforeverfangirl @reeophidian @inglourious-imagines @sebby-staan @onlyfreds @pandaxnienke @xmalfoyweasleyx @manuosorioh @cosmiccomicloverqueen @the-romanian-is-bae @fhhsposts

[god-of-dust]

after much deliberation, i decided to post what i wrote of chapter 2 and 3 of Trick Me here. this will probably never end up on ao3 because of Reasons, but someone might enjoy reading it and i definitely enjoy the validation. (also, leaving this to rot in my folder seems like a waste.)

this is rated T, no particular warnings apply besides tom’s occasional murderous thoughts.

-----

There’s no sign of Potter. Figures. Tom glares at the suit of armour as if it’s the one meant to carry the blame for this situation.

Disillusionment Charm firmly in place, he leans on the rough stone wall and resigns himself to wait.

“You’re early. Why am I not surprised?”

In a split second, Tom turns in the direction of the voice and points his wand towards... the empty corridor?

Then Potter’s head—only his head—emerges from thin air.

“Jumpy, too. Again, not surprised,” Potter says, smirking. Then he moves, revealing the rest of his body and the rippling fabric of a cloak.

An Invisibility Cloak. No wonder Potter can get wherever he wants without getting caught. “Where did you get that?” Tom asks, envy colouring every word. That kind of Cloak is worth thousands of Galleons, which is more money than Tom has ever possessed in his entire life.

The things Tom could do with one... he’d have no need for permission to slide beyond the wards of the forbidden section of the library. While certainly tame compared to what a collection from a Dark pureblood family would hold, there are also many old books there that Tom has been dying to get his hands on since he’s seen their titles and felt the power they contained.

“Family heirloom,” Potter says with a shrug.

Of course Potter has a family that provides for him, and of course he has the gall to shrug, like it’s absolutely normal to carry around an object this valuable and use it to go to the Quidditch pitch at night. It’s maddening, to witness this utter lack of ambition in someone who has so much at his disposal and wastes it so pitifully.

He reaches out to touch the fabric. It’s soft and perfect, spells woven so beautifully that it appears not to be enchanted at all. He refuses to believe that this Potter is the one who cast them. “What kind of spells does your family use to prevent the magic from fading? How frequently do you have to refresh them?”

Potter only smiles and shakes his head. “You and Hermione would be amazing together if you just stopped being an arse to her.”

Tom glares at him. His thoughts on that particular topic must be crystal clear, because Potter laughs that full-bellied laugh of his. “You haven’t answered my question,” Tom insists.

“Do you want to stand in the corridor all night discussing my cloak? I thought we had Quidditch to play.”

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Tom says: “Fine.”

“Get under here, then,” Potter beckons, holding a side of the cloak open for Tom to slip under and cover himself.

Sliding in the offered space, Tom instantly becomes very aware of how close they have to stay for them both to be concealed. Wonderful, he thinks, just wonderful. Just what I needed: more contact with him.

He lets Potter lead the way outside; after a bit of fumbling, they find a rhythm that allows them to walk in sync without constantly bumping into each other’s shoulder.

“Thank Merlin you’re shorter than Ron. His feet try to peek out all the time, it’s an absolute nightmare.”

Are his friends all he can talk about? Tom vaguely wonders, before noticing the route they’re taking. “The Quidditch pitch is the other way.”

“We’re not going to the pitch,” Potter replies.

Tom stops in his tracks, making the cloak tangle around Potter’s form; unsurprisingly, it only takes a moment for the miraculous Golden Boy to recover his balance. Tom, voice strained with the effort to keep it under control, hisses: “If you’re trying to trick me, Potter, I swear—”

“I’m not,” Potter interrupts. “The pitch is too open and couples go there to shag all the time, so the chances of someone seeing us are too high. I’m taking you to a place only I and my closest friends know about.”

Again with his friends. “Are you really so arrogant as to believe you’re the only one that knows anything about Hogwarts?”

This time, Potter is the one who stills abruptly. He turns to face Tom, noses almost touching under the cloak, eyes ablaze with an emotion that Tom has never seen on him: genuine, unfiltered anger. “Listen, Riddle. I offered my help, but what I didn’t offer was being target practice for your fucking abrasiveness. You want to learn Quidditch? I can teach you. You want to act like a bastard? Go do that somewhere else, because I’m not afraid to punch you in the face if you insist on constantly accusing me of imaginary crimes.”

“As if I’m not able to defend myself from your punches,” Tom snarls.

Potter’s eyes narrow. “Were you even listening to me?”

There’s nothing stopping Tom from hexing Potter into the next century; nothing, except for the fact that he’d be expelled and then the whole Potter clan would ensure that he’d rot in Azkaban for an indeterminate amount of years. Right now, it seems like a minor price to pay.

He keeps his twitching fingers away from his wand. He needs to hold himself in check if he wants to avoid Potter’s suspicion. After a steadying breath, he says evenly: “I was. My words were... out of line. I apologise.”

Silence stretches while Potter stares at him. Then he turns on his heels, facing away, and they resume their walking.

It takes them a few minutes to reach the boundary of looming trees that students are supposed to never cross. “Is this secret place of yours really inside the Forest?”

“Yeah. That’s why I’m reasonably sure that no one else has discovered it. A wrong turn would take them either into an Acromantula nest or in centaur territory,” Potter explains, navigating with sure steps amidst trunks and twigs and weeds and bushes as if he owns the place.

Both options are incredibly dangerous, for many different reasons. Not even the Headmaster has jurisdiction over the creatures in the Forest, and any reckless student who wanders too far is responsible for their own fate. Over the years, Tom has done a little exploring of his own to gather herbs, shed fur and other potion ingredients, but he never went as deep inside as wherever Potter is taking them now. “How did you discover it, then?” Tom asks while memorising the convoluted trail so that he’ll be able to return later. The potions he could brew with even a small vial of Acromantula venom, or some eggs... he has to find out more about those supposedly wrong turns.

“I followed my nose,” Potter says with a mischievous smirk, previous anger washed away like a leaf in a river. “And perhaps I had a bit of help.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Well, sorry, but I’m not going to divulge my secrets to anyone who asks... besides, you’re smart enough; perhaps with time you’ll figure it out on your own.”

Focus still firmly placed on their surroundings, Tom ignores the compliment. He has no use for Potter’s pretense.

A large clearing suddenly materialises before them, encircled by towering trees whose foliage forms a protective half-dome high over their heads. Ancient magic caresses Tom’s skin, making him shiver with anticipation. There’s a circular area in the center, large enough to hold a dozen people, empty of any grass or stone; Tom is certain that someone has built it that way on purpose. He steps closer, prudent and fascinated in equal measure. “What is this place?” he wonders, eyes wide and searching as he studies the stone while taking in the feeling of rightness and inspiration the space emanates.

“Somewhere where we can have all the privacy we want,” Potter says lightly as he slides off the cloak from their shoulders. To him, this secret spot humming with magic that vibrates in Tom’s blood and bones must be just another day, just another priceless thing dropped on his lap that he wields without a care.

After enchanting a few Lumos spheres to hover around them, Potter extracts a small object from his pocket, lays it on the even ground and enlarges it with a wave of his wand, revealing it to be a trunk. Then he points to a twisted root that peeks out from the soil and transfigures it into three Quidditch hoops, about three meters high.

“I assume you know about Quidditch roles and rules even if you’ve never played, correct?”

“Yes.” Tom’s skimmed through a Quidditch book, if only not to be completely unprepared when it came to playing his part in this charade. He will carry his plan forward and rip the rug from under Potter’s feet, even if it involves studying a few tedious rules of a tedious sport.

“So, you can probably imagine that every role requires different skills, which is why we’ll explore every one of them and gradually build up your stamina and reflexes while you discover what you’re naturally good at.” He scratches at his head contemplatively. “When was the last time you rode a broom?”

“First year flying classes. I was average at the basics and never tried anything more elaborate.” Tom isn’t eager to recall most of those memories because, in truth, it had been humiliating to realise how far behind his peers he was. Unlike them, he’d never had a broom of his own to practice and his confidence had faltered when he needed it the most. The broom’s magic had caught on his hesitation and thus his performance had been lukewarm at best.

“Yeah, I can imagine it wasn’t pleasing for you. Hermione was the same. You really can’t stand it when you don’t excel at something, huh?”

“I doubt anyone enjoys the feeling of being incompetent.”

“Good point,” Potter admits, “but that’s not the attitude you need right now. You always have to start from somewhere and build from there, even if that starting point isn’t as glorious as you’d like.” He squats to open the trunk; it contains a clearly well-loved yet also well-kept set of Quidditch balls.

Tom eyes suspiciously the Bludgers struggling against the chains holding them in place.

“Since we’re starting from the basics, tonight we’re both going to play Chasers, which means that we’ll pass the Quaffle between us and do our best to score through the goals. Of course, there’s more to being a Chaser than this, but it will be enough for now. Before that, though, I want to see you on a broom.”

“I don’t have one. I presumed we’d use one of the school brooms,” Tom says, crossing his arms, mild irritation colouring his tone.

Unbothered, Potter reaches again into his pocket to produce two shrunken brooms. “I brought my Nimbus. It’s very good, especially for a beginner, with quick responses and great stability.”

He holds out his hand and Tom takes the now appropriately sized broom. “...Thank you.”

“Wow, you’re really making an effort into being polite. I appreciate that,” Potter says, apparently pleased. “But now, Riddle, show me how you ride.”

There’s nothing in Potter’s smile and in that particular phrasing that Tom could possibly care for. He straddles the broom and pushes himself to hover in mid-air, one meter from the ground and then one more; feeling how precarious and uncertain his posture is, he does his best to correct it.

“Good. You don’t seem to be struggling much. Are you afraid of heights?”

Tom shoots him a venomous look. “No.”

“That’s one less thing we have to worry about, then.” Potter jumps on his broom and rises too, graceful as a phoenix. Bastard. “Let’s try some loops.”

Tom nods and watches as Potter demonstrates a few simple figures: circle, spiral, figure-eight. They seem easy enough, but when Tom tries to follow Potter’s directions his broom moves in shaky zig-zags instead of the smooth curves he expects it to perform.

“This broom isn’t working,” Tom snarls. He looks at Potter, who’s certainly dying to make fun of him... only to find no trace of sadistic glee on his expression.

Potter circles around him, examining him from head to toe with furrowed brows, almost hawk-like in his focus. “You’re clenching your thighs and hands too hard. The broom reads that as a sign for ‘straight line’ and ‘speed’, and right now that’s not your objective. For curves like these, you have to flow with the movement and lean into the direction you want without overbalancing.” His posture is relaxed, bordering on lazy, as he flies in a large, slow circle for Tom’s sake. “Like this.”

Tom imitates him as best as he can, loosening his grip. “What if I want to achieve a fast curve?”

“Fast curves are more advanced. We’ll try those later.”

Tom tries again with a figure-eight, and he’s surprised when he finds that the broom’s following the path he intended with increasing ease.

“See? Way better,” Potter beams. He looks like he’s genuinely enjoying this.

After a few minutes of loops, Tom’s acquired a mild amount of confidence in his form; at least the feeling that he’ll tip over every time he steers the broom has lessened until it’s nearly gone. Seemingly satisfied, Potter instructs him on how to repeat the same figures with a single-handed grip, then handless, as he explains: “You’ll need your hands free for the Quaffle.”

Even while going through boring drills at this insignificant height, there’s an undeniable thrill to flying, to acquiring control over something as elusive as air. “One day,” he declares, “I’m going to invent broomless flying.” Perhaps a variation of Wingardium Leviosa, combined with a Feather-Light Charm... yes, he’ll do it, and succeed.

“That would be amazing. And honestly, if anyone could do that it would be you.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” Tom scoffs, close to amused. Does Potter really think that compliments will have any effect on him? Tom’s too acquainted with the subtle art of manipulation to take any of Potter’s amateurish attempts seriously.

Potter rolls his eyes. “It’s not flattery, it’s me making an observation. Every single person in Hogwarts knows that your knowledge and control over magic are impressive.” Smoothly diving forwards, Potter reaches for the trunk and grabs the Quaffle inside it.

“Catch!” he says, and throws the ball at Tom.

Instincts rearing up before he can think, Tom steers sideways to dodge, but he’s too quick, too sudden, the broom refuses to cooperate—fuck, he’s lost his balance, he’s going to slip off and fall on his face like a bloody—

An arm slides around his torso, holding him up. A steady hand over the handle of his broom stops its lurching. Tom is barely breathing, his mind catching up to the fact that he’s not going to become one with the forest soil.

“Shit, Tom, I’m sorry, I thought you were ready, I should have warned you—”

Heart still finding the way back to its regular beat, Tom interrupts Potter’s rambling: “It’s fine. Nothing happened.”

“Well it was a stupid thing to do, and I won’t do it again,” Potter insists, wide eyes painfully green even in the dark.

“Just drop it, will you?” It’s embarrassing enough that he ran away from a Quaffle like it was the Killing Curse; Potter’s self-flagellation is just rubbing more salt on the wound. As if he hasn’t done it on purpose anyway, the fucking prick.

With a sigh, the arm around Tom tightens briefly before Potter releases him. “Do you want to stop? We’ve done a lot already. You’ve been great.”

More useless flattering.

“Let’s try again,” Tom orders. He wants to challenge Potter, confuse him, shock him, give him a lesson that he’ll never forget. The plan to ruin his reputation isn’t enough; the matter has become personal.

Uncertain, Potter nods. This time, when the Quaffle comes towards him Tom catches it, albeit unsteadily. A victorious glint in his eyes, he does his best to throw Potter off-balance by flinging the ball back at him.

The back-and-forth of the Quaffle between them slowly acquires a flow. Potter accepts Tom’s viciousness and in turn pushes Tom’s limits, building his reflexes with progressively more elaborate throws, flying around him in circles like an annoying snidget. Tom fumbles, stumbles, grumbles, but he manages to avoid another fall, and he even scores a few points through the unprotected goals.

By the end of the lesson they’re both sweating—disgusting—and Potter is positively radiating joy.

Tom can’t say the same about himself. His performance’s been nowhere near satisfactory, his dexterity and form nowhere near Potter’s. While he still holds no interest for Quidditch, he also can’t stand the thought that Potter can have this golden opportunity to gloat over him. There’s no way that Tom will accept being considered inferior to anyone.

“So, uh... how was it?” Potter asks once they’ve dismounted, self-consciously running a hand through his hair. It looks like a habit of his.

“You’ve been patient,” Tom concedes. It’s true, at least on the surface: Potter’s been nothing but helpful and tolerant of every mistake, adapting his teaching to Tom’s pace with flawless precision. “I could have done better.”

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake,” Potter says, “will you stop with the self-deprecation? You’re learning. It’s all part of the process. Believe me, I’ve seen worse.”

Tom hands the Nimbus back to Potter, who’s extinguishing the enchanted lights and reverting the goal posts back to their original shape. “You’ve also seen best, I reckon.”

Potter huffs in annoyance as he takes the broom and stores it away along with the rest of the equipment. “Yes, and it doesn’t matter. This isn’t a competition. The whole point of us being in the middle of the forest instead of the pitch is that you can be away from judgemental eyes, so could you please stop being your own worst critic?”

“We should go.” If Potter considers having standards the same as self-deprecation, then Tom has nothing else to say. “I can find my way back.” He turns to follow the hidden trail that led them here.

“Wait,” Potter says, interrupting Tom as he was about to cast a wordless Disillusionment Charm on himself. “Do you want to do this again? More lessons?”

Does Tom want to? Is the headache of spending time with Potter worth it?

Like a sharp edge, a thorn stuck in his side, Potter’s words echo in his head. This isn’t a competition. But it is, in a way—it’s Tom’s endurance against his desire to chalk up the whole plan as a failure and sweep it under the rug.

And Potter is still an issue—he still needs to go down in flames, and Tom is the one who has to ignite that fire.

He straightens his back. I won’t quit now. “Same time, next Saturday?”

“I’ll be here,” Potter says. It sounds like a promise.

##

[missing scene with Tom and snake-Harry]

##

At half past eleven on Saturday, Harry prepares to slip away from the Gryffindor dormitory under his Cloak.

“Ron, hey,” he whispers in the darkness of the dormitory, shaking his friend’s shoulder.

Still more than half-asleep, refusing to open his eyes, Ron mutters, “What?”

“I’m going out, will probably be late again. Don’t wait for me, okay?” He’s a little ashamed of taking advantage of Ron while he’s in this state, knowing that he won’t ask questions.

“Yeah, yeah—g’night, mate,” Ron says, words slurred as the dream world ensnares him again.

Then Harry leaves, sliding through the many corridors of the castle as if he were in his Animagus form, until he crosses the entrance; outside he can run, free, breathing in the cold wind that chills his face and lungs. He feels so light, like the world is full of exciting possibilities, like he’s on the hunt for something marvellous.

Yes, he hates hiding these nighttime escapades from his friends. However, he also loves the secret thrill of this undefined thing he and Tom have, this strange agreement that’s neither friendship nor rivalry, while not being neutral either. He knows, he can see that Tom—and how weird it is, that he already thinks of him as such—still despises him... yet he’s also invested in Harry in a way that goes beyond simple hatred or spite.

He could have used many excuses to get his hands on Harry’s Firebolt and sabotage it. He could have cursed Harry himself, especially with how close they’ve been, and Harry has no doubt that Tom possesses a sizable arsenal of slow-building, undetectable curses that would have sent Harry to his grave with no one the wiser.

But then, how absurd it is that Harry’s still not afraid to know that a part of Tom, a loud and powerful one, would rejoice in his pain and in having caused it?

He’s certain that Tom Riddle’s bite is deadly venomous, and he’s been thirsting for Harry’s blood for a long time. The bane of his existence, indeed.

Yet Harry saw something else during their time together: the fierce competitiveness, the stubbornness, the drive towards excellence, the desire to be greater than anyone... and also the insecurity, the self-loathing, the fear hidden behind harsh perfectionism, the sense of not being enough, of having to push himself harder, of not belonging anywhere, of being unloved and unlovable.

Tom Riddle is human and flawed. And he has bite, yes, but along with the venom comes a blazing fire that he keeps carefully concealed under his detached, polished façade. Harry wants to witness more of that fire, wants to bask in it, wants to revel in the privilege of being the one who can bring it out.

He knows what Tom could do, the potential of his cruelty. However, night after night, he discovers an inescapable curiosity for what Tom will do.

A laughter, full and thrilling, shakes Harry’s body as he skips through the forest, jumping over traitorous roots and avoiding thorn bushes intent on drawing blood.

Tom, of course, has already arrived.

Harry admires the transfigured goal posts, smoother and more symmetrical than how his own half-arsed magic would ever mold them, and thinks, This is going to be fun.

“Eager?” Harry can’t help but tease.

Tom gives him one of his looks. “I don’t like wasting time.”

“Of course. Let’s get to it, then.”

Like last time, Harry offers Tom his Nimbus; they warm up by playing with the Quaffle, letting Tom reacquaint himself with the feeling of flying by revisiting a few of the trickier turns. Tom’s control over the borrowed broomstick is still shaky and hesitant, which he clearly hates with a passion, but he’s also improved considerably in a small amount of time.

This may be the one thing in which Tom Riddle isn’t a natural. However, for some reason he’s actually putting in an effort to learn, which leaves Harry wondering why. Merlin knows Tom’s mind works in mysterious ways, and even after spending a few nights with him as a snake and witnessing his unfiltered rants Harry’s not closer to understanding his convoluted reasoning.

“Tonight I think you could try your hand at playing Keeper.”

Tom, always straight to the point, immediately flies towards the transfigured hoops and circles around them. “On a practical level, how is it different from playing Chaser, anyway? The ball is the same, it’s just a matter of catching it as we’ve already been doing.”

Harry feels an appraising smile rise on his lips. “Interesting question,” he replies, turning the Quaffle in his hands. “I believe the main difference is in the freedom of movement. As a Chaser, you can follow the trajectory and position of the Quaffle and other players in the way that’s most convenient for you, while as a Keeper you have to stay in a confined area, since leaving the goals unguarded equals failure. You need sharper eyes and quicker reflexes, which is why I considered it more advanced.”

“But the smaller area should make it easier, not harder,” Tom says with a small frown.

“Theory is theory, practice is practice. You’ll see by yourself.”

“Let’s begin, then.” He looks impatient, and Harry privately thinks that it’s kind of adorable. Perhaps my love for Quidditch is rubbing off on him. Or perhaps he’s just that competitive.

So Harry begins throwing and Tom begins to understand Harry’s point as the Quaffle slides under his guard and passes easily through the hoops time after time. With sweaty hair plastered to his forehead, eyes aflame and gritted teeth, Tom struggles to prevent Harry’s craftiness from allowing him to score yet another point. He’s only managed to catch five out of twenty-four throws.

“You have to keep in mind that I’m not an actual Chaser myself,” Harry says, immensely enjoying the murderous look on Tom’s face. “This could be way worse.”

Tom stills, holding the ball as if he wants to strangle it. “You do so love to make fun of me,” he snarls. “Idiot Tom Riddle, who’s never learned to play Quidditch, who can’t even catch a bloody Quaffle. Must be so nice to sit on your throne and laugh at my pathetic attempts.”

The aggressiveness in Tom’s tone makes Harry feel all kinds of ruffled, and perhaps he should be keeping his mouth shut, but when has he ever listened to reason? So he says, “I thought you had more spine than this, for someone who sits on his throne and laughs at others all the time.”

“What?” Tom says, eyes narrow and voice sharp as a potioneer’s blade.

“You heard me. Is it fun, being an arsehole to Hermione and who knows how many others? How does it feel when you are the one whose efforts feel inadequate, Tom?”

“It’s Riddle, to you.”

“Well then, Riddle: how does it feel? And mind you, I was teasing you as I would with a friend, but I could also be cruel and cutting like you. I could get on the same level of ‘polite bastard’ you seem to revel in.”

The look Tom gives him is utterly blank, which could be seen as an improvement over being murderous, or could also mean that he’s so much more murderous than usual that he’s already on the phase where he’s choosing how to dispose of Harry’s body.

Harry sighs. This is all pointless. Tom hates him, will always hate him, and they’re just dancing around each other waiting for the perfect opportunity to... what? Tom is most likely waiting for Harry to lower his guard enough for him to strike undetected, but what does Harry want? What’s his excuse for being here?

Perhaps this time his curiosity is better left alone.

“Forget what I just said. I’ve been an arsehole,” Harry says. “We don’t have to do this if you’re so frustrated it makes you miserable.”

“Is this what you think of me? That I go around lording my knowledge over people?” Tom doesn’t sound angry—he just stares at Harry like he’s speaking in a different language.

“From what I’ve seen of you... well, yes,” Harry says, uncertain. He feels like this whole conversation is balancing on a very delicate thread. “It’s not overt, but you do act superior and rub your grades on other people’s faces, with those condescending smirks and such... and I don’t believe that you don’t do that on purpose.”

“I—do that,” Tom admits quietly, almost disturbed by the revelation. Even more interesting, he appears to be honestly considering it. “Perhaps... it’s a bit excessive.”

“We all know you’re the most skilled student in this school anyway. It’s not just about grades—you clearly have a touch, a passion for magic that can’t be found in books and that most of us can’t hope to replicate.”

Tom’s eyes catch Harry’s then, a blazing intensity passing between them that makes Harry feel… funny. “You’re telling the truth. You do think that.”

“Yeah. I mean, it’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?”

“Not coming from you.”

Harry frowns. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You—” Tom pauses, raking a hand through his already mussed-up hair. He looks more unbuttoned than Harry’s ever seen him. “I’m not sure.”

“That you wanted to murder me in my sleep, probably,” Harry says unthinkingly. He knows that Tom has never been confused on his opinion of Harry; he’s heard enough dramatics when Tom’s spoken to him as Ezra, long tales on how insufferable Harry is, and how much of an attention-seeker, how brainless and privileged, and so on.

Surprisingly, Tom laughs. It’s brief, blink-and-you’ll miss it, but it’s happened.

Tom Riddle has laughed.

“I might have considered it, yes,” Tom confesses, not even remotely apologetic.

Harry is shocked and more charmed than he’d like to admit. “I don’t know what to do with this sudden honesty.”

Tom shakes his head, and he’s still smiling—not smirking, but smiling—and he looks as unbalanced as Harry feels. “Neither do I.” He locks eyes with Harry, and for a few brief seconds there’s that intensity again; then he breaks the spell to Accio the Quaffle from where he’d dropped it. “Let me try again.”

“Sure,” Harry says, quietly thrilled.

##

[missing scene with Tom and snake-Harry]

##

The trunk containing Potter’s Quidditch equipment sits on the forest floor, lid open. Tom studies the set of chained Bludgers and lifts an eyebrow. “Last time you said that in this lesson I was supposed to ‘learn my way around a Beater’s bat’.” The unspoken question of why Potter hasn’t handed him any bat yet hangs in the air.

“Yeah, I said that, but then I realised that Bludgers might not be the best idea right now,” Potter admits, shrugging. “You’re probably already familiar with how they work from a spectator’s point of view, but this is another instance of theory being very different from practice.”

“In short, you believe I’m not able to undertake this particular task,” Tom says. Of course Potter wouldn’t consider him worthy enough for the scary, angry balls, not when Tom still struggles with inconsistent balance and shaky steering at the best of times. Furthermore, Potter’s famed superior abilities allow him to keenly judge the depth of Tom’s incompetency and find him wanting.

Unimpressed by Tom’s logic, Potter rolls his eyes. “Is it necessary for you to be so dramatic?”

“Don’t bother with lying. We both know it’s the truth,” Tom insists. He has no patience for this display of futile denial.

“It’s a distorted version of the truth, so you can beat yourself up for not being perfect enough, or some crap along those lines. Yes, it’s probably not safe for you to engage with Bludgers yet. No, it doesn’t mean that you’re useless of whatever you’re telling yourself.”

“You seem awfully confident in your ability to interpret my thoughts.” Out of ingrained habit, Tom reinforces his Occlumency shields. While it’s unlikely that Potter has the wits and finesse to master the delicate art of Legilimency, he’s also revealed himself to be unpredictable in many occasions. Better safe than sorry.

“Maybe you’re just obvious,” Potter says dismissively, before tapping his wand on the small set of chains that holds the Golden Snitch in place at the center of the trunk. The ball springs free, only for Potter to catch it immediately with practiced ease and a gleam in his eyes that promises nothing good for Tom. “Tonight we’re Seeking.”

“Will the Snitch’s movements be restricted to this clearing, or will we have to follow its path amongst the trees?”

“Only the clearing,” Potter confirms with a small smile.

Tom lets his gaze roam to evaluate the length and breadth of the space. The shiny surface of the ball would be easily discernible against the dark background. “Seems feasible.”

The smile on Potter’s face grows wider. “Let’s begin, then.”

What followed were blurred hours of Tom fumbling his way through sharp turns, desperately trying to keep himself from losing his grip, then losing it anyway at every attempt to catch the blasted ball, then trying to regain his balance, then remembering to loosen his posture, then failing at commanding his limbs to go on a single direction, thus dipping downwards at uncontrollable speed until he would have surely eaten grass if not for Potter’s steadying hand.

Once they finally touch the ground, Tom flings away Potter’s broom, rage painting his world in red. He doesn’t give a single fuck about the bloody stick of wood and the bloody Snitch, he’s bruised all over the place and he’s sick of this, he won’t stand a single second of humiliating himself any further, he’s utterly and completely done. “How do you fucking do this?” Tom roars. “Why would you willingly subject yourself to this torture?”

“Uh, T—Riddle—”

“I don’t know what I was thinking,” Tom goes on, ignoring him. “Why I even considered to accept this whole ordeal as if it deserves any of my time.”

“Riddle, I told you, this isn’t an obligation,” Potter says. “We can stop, it’s okay.” He’s dismounted too, and he stands there, slowly and cautiously inching towards Tom.

‘It’s okay’—as if Tom needs to be soothed or, worse, coddled. The infantilising undertones make Tom want to tear Potter to shreds. There’s a Cruciatus on the tip of his tongue, waiting to be unleashed, waiting for him to reap Potter’s pain for witnessing Tom making a fool of himself and daring to treat him like a volatile child. I doubt he’ll be so entertained when he’s contorting on the ground, screaming his lungs out, he thinks savagely, extracting his wand from its holster.

As the first syllable of the curse leaves Tom’s mouth, red light charging on the tip of his wand, Potter is fast—he crouches and rolls away from its trajectory, touching down over the stone in the middle of the clearing and drawing up a Shield Charm strong enough that Tom can hear it crackling like lightning. “What the fuck, Riddle?” he snaps, but there’s no surprise or fear on his face, only the sharp focus of a seasoned duellist.

Unfortunately for Potter, a mere Shield Charm isn’t enough to deter Tom; many Dark curses are designed to eat through them like a parchment set aflame. He smiles, all teeth, and Potter seems to sense his intentions, eyes narrowing.

Then the unthinkable happens.

Potter casts non-verbally at the same time Tom’s spell almost strikes home; the jets of their magic meet in midair and twine together in a single stream of pure gold light. Birdsong erupts, filling the space with an otherworldly melody, while luminous threads of magic are birthed from the stream like a spiderweb, surrounding Tom and Harry in a dome until the forest disappears beyond the shimmering brilliance.

What in Salazar’s name is this?

The entirety of Tom’s world is reduced to this moment in time, to Potter’s green eyes reflecting the light. Mesmerised, Tom watches as beads of light appear in the stream of their magic. His wand vibrates and he clutches it harder; the beads gets closer and closer to its tip, and Tom feels the light whispering at him to accept sanctuary in its song, to let it wash away his anger, to cease fighting, to surrender, and his whole body becomes weightless, being gently lifted from the ground by this invisible, absurd, liminal force—

And suddenly it ends.

The light disappears, leaving them to adjust to the night again: the link has been broken. Tom aches for it, deep in his bones. He can already tell how the echoes of that melody will haunt him for many nights to come.

He and Potter stare at each other, feet back on the ground, eyes wide, breathless and at a loss for words.

“What was that?” Tom breathes. “What did you do?”

Potter shakes his head, bewildered. “I have no clue. I just—stopped it.”

“You stopped it?”

“I think so.” Potter crawls towards a point to his side, scanning the grass back and forth until he recovers his wand from where he must have lost it when he interrupted the contact.

“Why?” Tom asks, unable to keep the word inside his still pounding chest. Why would you commit such a blasphemous act?

“Because—whatever it was, I’m not sure either of us was prepared for it.” He’s holding Tom’s gaze, straight on, in a way that reaches deep under his skin.

Unnerved, Tom skims the surface of Potter’s mind and finds a confusing jumble of... something. Too many somethings, all swirling in dizzying patterns. Wonder, doubt, curiosity, wariness, joy—all underlined by the same pure bliss that has enveloped Tom under the dome.

This magic is messing with my senses. “Don’t speak to me ever again. We’re done,” Tom says, with as much vicious strength as he can muster, rising on wobbly legs.

Potter sits in the grass and says nothing, making no move to stop him.

Tom can feel the weight of his gaze all the way to the castle. Once he reaches the dungeons, the Slytherin common room and finally his own bed, he realises how not a single part of his plan has worked out as expected.

His wand, who’s been a faithful companion since he was eleven, has acted in a way that was absolutely mystifying. Still shivering with the residue of that golden magic that doesn’t let go of his limbs, Tom performs a series of spells only to have the proof of what he already expected: the wand responds as usual and nothing is out of the ordinary—not now, not anymore. But if that unreal... thing wasn’t a malfunction, or caused by a curse, then what was it? He’s never heard of anything like it.

For the first time in what feels like forever, Tom’s out of his depth.

He thought he’d ruin Potter’s reputation, only to end up tired, bruised, with his magic acting up unpredictably and his thoughts scrambled beyond recognition. He thought he would teach Potter a lesson, and yet he lost himself in birdsong and light, giving away his power like an utter fool, until Potter was the one to separate them. And isn’t it funny that the reckless Gryffindor poster boy was the one who acted appropriately, while Tom has been too weak, too compromised? Weak, his mind provides.

How could it all have gone so wrong? How could Tom have lost the guidance of his own compass so completely?

For the briefest of moments, he wishes for Ezra’s presence; the snake has no interest in what he calls ‘complicated human affairs’, and his snark would help to keep Tom grounded. And isn’t this another sign of Tom’s weakness, to need another—an animal—to recover his balance?

He rubs his eyes, feeling both keyed-up and drained to the bone. A restless night awaits him.

However, he refuses to surrender to the hold of these thoughts. It’s completely useless to wallow in defeat and waste any more time contemplating this utter failure. Whatever happens next, whatever stunt Potter pulls that could interfere with Tom’s position in Slytherin, he’ll deal with it. Tom is cunning and capable enough to adapt to what fate has in store for him, as he’s always done.

He digs into his potion stash for a vial of Dreamless Sleep.

Potter can rot.

##

Harry crosses for the millionth time the opening sentence of his Potions essay. His parchment has turned into a blot of ink and he sighs, his wand to vanish the black stain. Then, he stares at the blank scroll, mind empty of coherent thoughts, unable to string together the meaning of a single line in the open book before him.

“I need help,” he finally says to Hermione, almost begging. They’re sitting, along with Ron, in their usual corner of the library. “I know, I know, I should write my own essay, but this isn’t—Hermione?” Harry hesitates, as he sees her casting a sturdy Muffliato around their table, the usual sign that a serious conversation was about to happen. Harry shoots a questioning look at Ron, but for once his friend appears to be on the same page as Hermione, leaving Harry out of the loop.

“Harry,” Hermione begins, with a concerned tone and furrowed eyebrows, “what’s going on? You’ve been distracted and spacing out for days, like you can’t focus on anything. It’s the third time you’ve asked for my help this week—even with difficult assignments, it’s not usually that bad.” She’s studying Harry’s face like she would a particularly complex Arithmancy equation, looking for the familiar tells that will betray his secrets.

Even though he knows perfectly well that she’s right, and that he did in fact intend to have one of those conversations, Harry protests on principle: “It’s Potions, you know how much I struggle with it! These essays are an absolute nightmare!”

“Yeah, mate, but maybe it would help if you read from the Potions book, instead of the Defense one,” Ron suggests, tapping his index finger on Harry’s book.

Harry stares at him, mild horror creeping up on his face, before letting his eyes fall on the book. He closes it and, sure enough, the battered cover doesn’t lie. “Fuck,” he says, defeated. He pushes up his glasses to rub at his face. “No wonder it didn’t make sense.”

Unlike Hermione, Ron doesn’t seem bothered by Harry’s behaviour; he shakes his head in playful disbelief, but he seems more curious than worried, which is relieving.

“So, what is it?” Hermione says.

Here it is, the moment Harry’s been dreading since this whole ordeal with Tom has started: telling the truth to his friends.

Like many other times, he doesn’t have a proper explanation for acting the way he does; in true Marauder fashion, he’d just acted on impulse, following the trail of fun. Unlike those other times, however, an explanation will be needed at some point.

This doesn’t mean that he isn’t also feeling quite defensive about this particular issue. After all, it’s not just about him; this is Tom’s business as much as it’s Harry’s, and Hermione won’t be happy to discover that her rival is involved. Harry still isn’t prepared for the fuss she will undoubtedly kick up.

And of course, predictable as the sunrise, Ron asks: “Is this because of whatever you’ve been doing when you sneak out at night?”

“Why are you being so secretive, Harry?” Hermione questions, leaning forwards and lowering her voice even though the Muffling Charm protects them from eavesdroppers. “Are you doing something that could get you expelled?”

“Hermione, I do things that could get me thrown in Azkaban on the regular.” Like being an unregistered Animagus, for instance.

And isn’t that another guilt-flavoured train of thought? The list of people that will need an explanation does include Tom himself. He’s warming up to Ezra in a way that he would have never allowed if he were aware of who hid behind the snake’s form. Yeah, Harry can’t say he’s looking forward to confessing that particular secret to Tom. After all, how can Harry admit to him that’s listened to his unfiltered rants and musings without Tom murdering him in cold blood? The Slytherin is already mistrustful enough, and lying by omission is one of the most dangerous things Harry could do, especially considering that Tom is a Legilimens.

Hermione waves an impatient hand to dismiss Harry’s point, snapping his attention back to the conversation. “You know what I mean, and you’re deflecting.”

Harry begins to open his mouth, but before he’s figured out what he’s going to say Hermione interrupts him again, voice gone soft: “Did you break up with your partner?”

“My what?” Again, Harry looks at Ron and finds none of the confusion he expects on his face.

“You have been disappearing a lot,” Ron offers with an half-shrug. “It was the most obvious conclusion.”

Harry gapes, stunned by the turn the conversation has taken. “Did you two really think that I have a secret lover? Why in the name of Merlin would I hide that?” If only they knew who my supposed ‘lover’ is. And isn’t that a thought, Tom being anyone’s lover, and Harry’s lover to boot? It’s too absurd, too unthinkable to even consider.

Yes, Harry can admit that Tom is handsome, and that he certainly doesn’t lack admirers; even with his poor eyesight, he’s not that ignorant of the Slytherin’s charms. However, Tom’s usual regal demeanour creates a distance between him and the rest of the world. Like a marble statue, Tom Riddle is meant to be admired while staying unreachable, and Harry can’t imagine him letting his shields down for anyone.

Except he did with me. Harry has been a witness to Tom’s temper, his cruelty, his smile. As obstinate as Tom has been with his will to drag Harry into the mud and his constant misinterpretation of Harry’s motives, he’s also let Harry see unflattering, vulnerable sides of him that many others would kill for.

How did that happen? What does this say about us?

“You’re spacing out again,” Hermione sighs. “But if it’s not a secret lover, then what is this all about?”

“I’ve been seeing someone. Not in that way,” he adds, before they can say anything. “But we kind of, uh, had a disagreement, and our magic reacted strangely and I was wondering if you knew something about it that I don’t.”

At the mention of an intellectual debate Hermione perks up, her posture instantly straightening. Harry tells them an abridged version of what happened in the clearing, glossing over the more incriminating details that could reveal Tom’s identity or the reason behind their fight.

“I’m pretty sure I’ve read about something like this before,” Hermione says, tapping her index finger to her lips. She bends to the side to rummage inside her magically expanded bag where she keeps a ridiculous amount of books—though Harry has to admit that, on occasions like this, having a portable library does come in handy. “I believe it was on a wandlore book I got last year. It’s hard to find any useful information on the subject because wandmaking is passed on through apprenticeship and very few masters have bothered writing down their knowledge, but I lucked on this tome that was gathering dust on a corner at Flourish and Blott’s, I’m fairly sure they didn’t even remember having it—ah, here it is!” she exclaims, showing them an ancient leatherbound volume whose title has faded completely. After a few minutes of leafing through the yellowed pages, she says: “I was right! Priori Incantatem, an extremely rare phenomenon that manifests when two practitioners bearing twin wands—that is, wands with the twin cores—attempt a duel.”

“So my... acquaintance’s wand has a phoenix feather core like mine?”

Hermione studies the book again. “Not just any phoenix feather, apparently. It has to be a feather from the same phoenix as yours, which I guess is why most wands don’t have a twin at all, or never meet their twin.” She lifts her gaze from the page to meet Harry’s eyes with her bright ones. “Harry, who is this person? This could be an amazing opportunity to study something that—”

“I can’t tell you, and they made it very clear that they don’t want me to speak to them ever again,” Harry says. Classes with the Slytherins have been... something. While outwardly nothing had changed between them, as they’d never interacted in the first place, Harry could feel the spiky coldness radiating from Tom as if it were alive and ready for him to try and cross it.

“But mate,” Ron interjects, gesturing vaguely at Harry, “wouldn’t they like to know about this? If my wand started shooting weird golden light during a duel, I’d be freaking out and thinking that my magic isn’t working or something like that.”

“I think they’re perfectly capable of researching this on their own.” Maybe that’s the reason behind their odd connection. Their wands... attract them to each other, or something.

Would Tom even want to know? The truth is... Ron is right. Someone like Tom, who prides himself on knowing everything and always being in control, must have been utterly shaken by his magic going haywire all of a sudden.

Harry’s choice is made.

##

A week after the last encounter with Potter, Ezra reappears in the dungeons just as Tom’s Prefect rounds come to an end.

Tom wonders at the snake’s ability to be so precise about his routine. Ready to cage his wayward almost-but-not-quite familiar again, this time with no intention of letting go, Tom lifts his wand in lieu of a greeting.

“Put that away, human,” Ezra hisses, and his tone is enough to still Tom’s tongue. He sounds stiff, his muscles tight and struggling against his obvious distress.

Eyes narrowing, Tom asks: “What happened to you?” If someone had dared to hurt his snake...

“Too many questions.”

“That was one question.”

“Pointless details. Follow me,” Ezra commands, before slithering down the dimly lit corridor, wasting no time to check if Tom is going after him.

Tom curses under his breath. Disrespectful, disobedient creature. He casts a silent Disillusionment Charm over himself and trails behind the sinuous shadow; the snake avoids the treacherous staircases, leading Tom behind faded tapestries and secret passages that he’s never encountered before. Spelling away the cobwebs to prevent them from sticking to his skin and hair, Tom finds himself thinking that not even Potter would have discovered these places—then banishes the reminder of Potter’s existence from his head entirely. The bastard doesn’t deserve a single crumb of his attention.

At this point he’s also wondering if Ezra is trying to get him in trouble on purpose. While the snake has never been particularly talkative and often acts oddly even by reptile standards, this mysterious demeanour is unusual and bordering on suspicious.

Ezra halts in front of a familiar, half-open bathroom door, flicking his tongue at the air; then, apparently satisfied, he slides inside.

More and more confused by this bizarre pseudo-adventure, Tom follows.

Once they’re under the greenish, dim light of the Chamber of Secrets, surrounded by snake-decorated pillars that hold up the vast ceiling, Ezra melts into the shadows and disappears from sight. The last shreds of Tom’s patience evaporate. “Ezra, what is going on?” he barely refrains from shouting.

He hears rustling from behind him, and when he turns in the direction of the sound his eyes fall on the pavement. There’s a book in front of him that hadn’t been there before. The cover is clearly old, black and unassuming, but it means very little for Tom. Wary, he extracts his wand. The Chamber is not a place in which one can trust random books appearing out of thin air.

It’s enough to distract him.

“Incarcerous,” a voice says—a treacherous, insufferable voice—and Tom is bound and constricted by ropes of warm magic that bring him to his knees. As if the humiliation wasn’t enough, he watches, powerless, as Potter waltzes in his field of vision and oh-so-casually disarms him.

“You utter bastard,” Tom snarls, like a flesh-eating curse, “release me.” The spell holds strong against his attempts to free himself wandlessly.

With a grin that shows too many teeth, Potter replies airily, “I don’t think I will. We have a lot of things to discuss, you see, and I don’t fancy being hexed.” His gaze turns sharp and he crouches in front of Tom, mockingly. “Besides, you deserve a little taste of your own medicine. Going around caging random snakes? Very rude, Tom.”

“What have you done to my snake?” No ropes will protect Potter from Tom’s ire. His magic is beginning to flare up, warming his skin, ready to set ablaze everything on its path.

Potter feels it, but all he does is sit cross-legged before Tom, unbothered. “Your snake?” he laughs.

“I caught him. He’s mine.”

“Putting me in a glass case and having a few one-sided conversations about how much you hate me is hardly enough to call me yours.”

Tom’s thoughts screech to a halt. The implication behind Potter’s words dawns on him, like curtains closing at the end of a play. It can’t be true, can it? Tom couldn’t have been so foolish—but wasn’t he the one who’s compared Ezra to Potter more than once? Oh, the irony. The cruelty of his misplaced belief that he could be himself with anyone, even an animal.

And then, Potter’s face opens, and his expression morphs into a genuine smile. Something travels down Tom’s spine at the sight. “You’re surprisingly warm, though. And you smell good under that posh cologne,” he says.

“You knew,” Tom says. “You knew all along that I wanted to sabotage you. That I despise you.”

“Yes.”

“You had no right.”

“You put me in a difficult position, Tom. On one hand, I was very aware of the fact that I was taking advantage of you; on the other hand, however... what was I supposed to do? Let you harm me out of the goodness of my heart? I’m not that self-sacrificing.”

[be11atrixthestrange]

Mischief Managed

TW: Smut 

*******

Mischief Managed

I solemnly swear I am up to no good.

Hermione always valued law and order. She was Head Girl after all, it was her job to enforce the rules. She knew them well, she understood them, and she believed in their importance… most of the time.

I solemnly swear I am up to no good.

She resisted the appeal of rebellion for years, always staying in line and trying to keep her friends there too. But Ron must be rubbing off on her, because the allure was back, and she suddenly found comfort in the mantra of the Marauders Map.

I solemnly swear I am up to no good.

She paced quickly down the cobblestone streets of Diagon Alley, repeating the words that validated her choice to break school rules. The fact that the map only worked with the promise of mischief reassured her that sometimes rules were meant to be broken.

Hermione wasn't technically supposed to leave school grounds, but McGonagall granted her special permission this time. As far as McGonagall knew, she was visiting with her parents, who had returned from Australia for the week. Last time she got special permission to leave, she said she had to attend a funeral for a great-uncle. And the time before that, she was— allegedly— in her cousin's wedding. Hermione could only imagine the repercussions if McGonagall ever found out all of those had been shameless lies.

She reached her destination, and knocked loudly on the door. Her jaw clenched and her eyes narrowed when he approached. She probably looked like she was angry at him— Which would have been an easy mistake to make. For Hermione, anger and attraction had always been closely linked, and Ron was finally beginning to understand the differences between the expression she wore when she wanted to punch him, and the one she made when she wanted to shag him. There is something about a man that didn't back down from a screaming match— Ron was never afraid to stand up to her. He challenged her.

"Hello?" he asked when the door cracked open.

"Hello," she said, leaning against the door frame. "Fancy seeing you here."

He was smiling now. "We're closed."

She couldn't help but crack a grin upon seeing him smile. "I know."

"And," he continued, "we're not supposed to let customers in after hours."

Hermione shrugged playfully. "You've never been one for following rules."

With his signature lopsided smile, Ron opened the door to let her into Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. It was true— Ron had never been keen on rules, and it was one of the many ways he challenged her.

"I suppose you're here for a different kind of service, then?" he asked, eyebrows raised imploringly.

He placed a hand on her shoulder, turning her around so her back was to him. Then he gently slipped off her jacket to hang it up. Even though it was just a jacket, the effortless way he hooked his fingers into the collar and slid it down her arms made her shudder. It was the same easy way he would unhook her bra, or guide her knickers down her thighs. It seemed almost like he was ignoring another rule— one that said undressing someone should be a big deal.

The way he did it was entirely non-sexual, like he was simply opening a door, or pouring her a glass of wine. The casual manner in which he could take her clothes off drove her absolutely insane. Whether he was intentionally evading the eroticism of the act or not, all it did was inject sexual tension into every other mundane thing he did.

After he hung up her jacket, he placed his hand on her lower back to lead her to the lounge in the back room. That simple act made her mouth water.

There was an alcohol cabinet in the lounge, and the way he poured her a glass of red wine made her breath hitch.

And when he handed her the glass, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, all it was to Hermione was foreplay.

He could tease her by turning off a light, opening a drawer, or reading a book. It wasn't fair.

"So," he said, letting his hand linger for a moment behind her ear. "You must have missed me."

Hermione cleared her throat, trying to keep her expression neutral. "A little bit."

Thankfully, Ron removed his hand— if he had kept it there longer, it might have left a burn mark. He smiled that goofy grin, took a sip of wine, and interlaced his fingers with hers to guide her to a sofa in the corner of the room.

She winced— it was another broken rule— red wine on a white sofa. But she couldn't help but admire the way he expertly balanced his glass as he sank into the couch without so much as a drop spilled. She was about to sit next to him, but he placed a hand in front of her to stop her, and shook his head.

Hermione smiled— all while groaning internally— when he nodded toward his lap. She bit her lip, balanced the wine in her hand, and sat down facing him, one leg on either side of his.

His calm, nonchalant expression broke for a moment, and she could see a flash of desire in his eyes. It took just a few seconds for him to scan her body. His gaze lingered on her breasts, before moving to her thigh, where his hand was resting. He let his hand slide up her thigh, ever so minutely, so that his fingertips slipped underneath her skirt. Then, just as suddenly, his expression turned neutral again and he met her gaze.

His eye contact burned right through her, taunting her even more than his hand on her thigh. She quickly buried another sip of her wine.

"How's school?" he asked, inching his fingers further under the hem of her skirt. His expression was still frustratingly neutral.

"I hate not having you there." She reached a hand toward his face, gently brushing her fingers across the stubble of his chin. He was a little scruffier than she remembered, and she realized she had no idea what a few days unshaven would feel like against her neck, or her breast, or her inner thigh.

"Stressed?" he asked, pulling her out of her reverie. His fingers were slightly— she might have imagined it— stroking her thigh, but he maintained his curious gaze on her eyes.

Hermione nodded. "That's why I'm here," she said, letting her hand move from his stubble to his hair, which was longer and messier than the last time she saw him.

He removed his hand from under her skirt. She frowned, as the space on her thigh now felt cold and empty. It was only for a moment, to swiftly take her wine glass from her hand and place it on the coffee table. Then he pulled her a little closer to him and leaned back against the couch. His hand found it's home back underneath her skirt, and she tangled her fingers further into his hair. She leaned forward to place a kiss against his head, fully aware that the v-neck shirt she had strategically worn hung wide open for him.

Maybe she could tease him as much as he was teasing her. She shifted forward on her hips, sliding her leg against his hand, so that his fingers brushed the tip of her knickers. He responded by clenching her shirt into a fist at her lower back. Her lips moved down to the side of his head, and she slipped the tip of his ear between her teeth. A muffled groan escaped his throat, his stubble brushed against her neck, and his fingers dug into her thigh.

She released his ear from her grasp to move her mouth to his neck, biting down and sucking his skin into her mouth. He took in a sharp breath, and she paused, waiting for his signal to continue.

"You can bite harder," he said, tilting his head aside to give her better access. So she did. "Leave a mark," he added, and the thought of it— of marking him— just made her want him more. It was like writing her name on her homework, the only way to get full credit.

She could tell he wanted her too when his fingers slid to her knickers, and he dipped his thumbs underneath the fabric. He ran them along the edges, toward her center, until they met one another in the middle. She automatically leaned back slightly to allow him access, and he rightfully interpreted her shift in posture as permission to slip his thumbs down to her clit and caress her.

She moaned and bit his neck harder, and he responded with more pressure from his fingers.

"Do you care about these knickers?" he asked her.

She didn't care— just like her loose blouse, her knickers were a strategic choice. Their transparency made them fragile enough to rip, and assured that her warm, wet response to his touch wouldn't go unnoticed.

She shook her head without removing her mouth from his neck. He firmly gripped the fragile lace and ripped them apart. She lifted her hips so he could tear them fully off, and he discarded them on the floor below the sofa.

Her hips sank back down to his lap, his fingers edged back to her center, and he slipped his thumbs between her lips to spread them apart, giving himself the access he needed to stroke her.

She detached from his neck so she could press herself more firmly into his hand, and smiled at the mark she had left. She lifted onto her knees so her breasts hung dangerously close to his face.

"No bra," he mumbled, starting to trail kisses from her collarbone to her chest. "I love that." Another strategic choice. It didn't take much to push her blouse out of the way so he could cover her breast with his mouth. She felt his tongue run across her nipple, bit her lip, and let out a soft moan.

He increased the pressure of his fingers. One hand continued stroking her, while the other gently spread her, exposing more sensitive skin for him to touch. When her thighs clenched and buckled from the pressure, it was his expertly placed fingers that overrode them, their caresses simply suggesting that she open her legs wider for him. So she did, letting herself get lost in the moment. Then she felt one finger slip inside her, and her breath caught in her throat while her hands gripped his scruffy hair. One finger became two, and her breathing grew louder, a breathy whine escaping with every exhale. She knew he liked that sound. The vibration of his appreciative hum was rattling against her breast, his thumbs confidently massaging her most sensitive places, and she felt his teeth caress her nipple.

Then he released her from his mouth and buried his face into her chest. His hands kept moving on her, in her, and his unshaven chin against her breasts caused her whole body to quiver. "You're so fucking wet" came his muffled voice, and she could almost feel the corners of his mouth turning up into a satisfied smile. "Can't wait to fuck you...Hear you come…"

As a general rule, Hermione didn't love dirty talk. But when it was Ron...

She pressed into his hand while her fingers tugged at his hair. He increased the pressure of his strokes again, and she shut her mouth tight to muffle her growing moans.

"Let it out, Hermione," he whispered into her ear. "We're alone, you can be loud. Scream for me."

Ron was definitely an exception to the rule.

She obliged, letting the sound of her pleasure escape her lips. Ron pressed his lips against the front of her neck, letting a kiss linger there, and he kept his hands moving determinedly, teasingly.

The tension was about to peak, and she felt herself involuntarily clench down on his hand.

"That's right—" he said against the front of her neck, centering his thumb directly on the mound of nerves, pressing, and driving her mad. It was almost like he had studied her body, learned the rules, and knew exactly how to please her.

She felt heat rising between her legs, her breath deepening, and almost let out a moan of satisfaction—

But he swiftly removed his hand from between her legs, seconds before she would have unraveled completely. She groaned, now simply in frustration— he was an expert at pleasing her, and knowing exactly when to pull back to drive her mad. She should have expected this— they could go on all night. Half of her hoped they would.

"I'm not ready to be done with you," he said mischievously, before shifting her off of his lap and onto her back. He climbed on top of her, but just before she captured his lips with hers, he ducked away, landing on her neck.

"Tease," she sighed, while he chuckled. His hand slid up her shirt and cupped her breast, while he kissed his way to her ear.

"Takes one to know one," he whispered, and his hand progressed down her stomach, shortly followed by his head, lifting her skirt up when he got there. He kissed her inner thigh, and trailed his lips to her center. Finding her clit, he ran his tongue across her and it didn't take long for her to feel the build up again.

This time she wrapped a leg around his head to hold him in place, just in case he decided to tease her again. He smiled against her and stopped the motion of his tongue. When she loosened the grip of her leg, he slowly nodded, and resumed. She tried it one another time, pressing her leg into his head, forcing his lips against her, and he paused. She could tell he was smirking even though his face was obscured by her bunched up skirt.

"I hate you," she said, in a tone that implied the opposite.

He removed his lips from her for a brief, tantalizing moment, and locked eyes with her. "I love you."

He might have reached up and literally turned the corners of her mouth up in a smile, it was that automatic. She both loved, and despised, how effectively his words could make her melt.

She let her head relax against the couch cushion and her knees opened wide. He dove right back in, covering her with his tongue, and now that she understood the rules of his little game, she submitted.

Her breath picked up again and the muscles in her legs spasmed as she quickly approached her edge again, but she made every effort not to show it by muffling her voice into the couch cushion, steadying her breath, forcing her legs to relax…

But he didn't buy it. This time, he slowed his tongue and steadied his mouth on her milliseconds before she screamed his name, and broke contact right before she reached her hand to his head to try to keep him in place. What would have been a sound of satisfaction came out as a frustrated groan. With that same infuriating smirk he kissed his way back up to her neck, all while undoing the buttons on his jeans and pulling his erection free.

He pressed his tip against her opening, raising his eyebrows for permission. She nodded and wrapped her legs around his waist as he pushed in.

They'd gotten quite comfortable being with each other this way. This was a far cry from the clumsy, self-conscious Ron of last summer. There were no awkward position shifts, mumbled apologies, nervous fumbles— this was a Ron who knew what she liked. He knew exactly where to touch her, how fast to thrust, how to angle her hips against her to make her bite her lip, close her eyes, and come undone. She was quite proud of how quickly he had learned the rules of her body.

But of course, it was his mischievous side that made him a Weasley, and breaking the rules was his ultimate motivation for learning them. It was his style as a quidditch keeper, a chess player, a prefect, and as it turns out, a lover.

So this time she didn't get her hopes up. She let him snake his arm around her lower back, lift her hips, press his thumb to her clit while she clutched blindly at the couch cushions, exhaling his name with every breath. He continued to pump into her with finesse, his own breath pace was picking up, and a rosy color creeping up his neck. He must have felt her tightening around him as she approached climax again, because he slowed his pace, removed his hand from her, and withdrew. He exhaled a stiff, cooling breath like it had taken incredible self-restraint to pull away.

"Turn around?" he said.

Was it a question? A command? As a rule, she didn't love being told what to do, but when it was Ron...

He didn't have to say it twice. She flipped over, balancing on her forearms while he gripped her hips and pulled her back to her knees. He held her steady and pressed himself into her for the second time, and her name escaped his lips as a moan when he started to pump.

Yes, Ron was an exception to the rule.

His fingers wandered underneath her, found her center, and began to stroke her, keeping pace with his thrusts. Like no time had passed, she was approaching the cliff again— it always happened more quickly the longer he teased her. Her legs buckled, she felt herself clenching down on his cock, and dug her fingers into the couch cushion.

He picked up his pace and pumped into her faster and harder until the couch was shifting with each thrust. She could sense that he was almost over the edge, and she was right there with him. She buried her face into the throw pillow to muffle the high pitched scream of his name, just as he pressed himself powerfully into her and let himself unravel, moaning expletives that that would have offended her if she heard them from anyone else.

He collapsed onto her, his fingers in her hair, but she still felt light under his weight, floating on the euphoria of their joint orgasm.

Well damn. Dirty talk, telling her what to do, swearing, and teasing her— none of that was in the rulebook. Leave it to Ron to make the wrong things feel so right.

They recovered, and Hermione turned back around to face him. He lowered his body back to hers, and captured her lips in a kiss. This time, when he tried to pull away, she pressed her hand to the back of his head to keep them connected. He didn't tease or resist, but melted into her and deepened the kiss, breaking the rules of his own game.

Mischief Managed.

[fredweesleyismyslut]

Forever be yours - Draco Malfoy x Curvy!muggle!reader

A/N: Hey guys!!!!!  I was looking through my list of things that I should write.  It’s literally just a stupid list of ideas that I randomly get before bed because someone(me) apparently can’t sleep at night and sits around lying in bed for an hour before finally passing out.  Anyways, I wrote this whenever I wasn’t busy so I hope you guys like it!!!  Bye, and enjoy!!

You were sitting at lunch with your friends eating lunch, talking about random things.  Your best friend who was sitting closest to you says, “Hey, you’ve been awfully quiet today.”  Looking up you responded, “I’m just tired, I think I stayed up too late.  It’s just...Pansy said-”  Your friend immediately cuts you off, ���Do I have to stab a bitch?  Or...I mean I’m ready for anything I just need you to tell me before so I can prepare-”  “No no...oh my god...well, now I know who to go to if I want to hide a body.”  She smiles, nudging you slightly, “For you?  Anything...especially if it comes to Pansy I can’t stand her ugh it’s like she created her whole personality off of Mr.Scrooge.”  Snorting softly, you nudge her back before breaking out into soft laughter, “So, what’s the problem with her that’s got you so worried.”  “Well, she told me that….that Draco asked her to go to his family Christmas dinner.”  Rolling her eyes she grabs your hand, “I can already see her smug smile.  Well, did you ask Draco?”  Shaking your head you looked down at your hands, “I-I didn’t get the chance to.  I mean his parents don’t even know we’re dating and I’m y’know-”  Cutting you off yet again, “You’re what?  Amazing?  Gorgeous?  Wonderful? A Goddess?  Basically everything better than Pansy?”  Corners of your lips curving softly you look her in the eyes, “Thank you...but I’m just worried we all know how his parents are and me not being the…” whispering the last part, “y’know a muggle and not meeting the...beauty standard.”  “Okay, you know what?  You are valid in feeling that way but I want you to know y/n that you are absolutely gorgeous I would kill for your body and if they don’t like you then it’s Draco who has to either step up for you or you kick him to the curb because I won’t let you accept any less.  Got it?”  She stared intensely into your eyes till you finally nodded, “Yes, mother, I got it.  Thanks for the pep talk.”  Putting her arm around your shoulders she smiled, “Anytime because I am not letting my best friend talk shit about herself.”  Then, she shook your shoulder softly, “There he is.  Go talk to him now.”  

You looked up, seeing the crown of golden hair that you’ve grown to love so much.  Draco practically glowed in the soft glow of the lights, laughing at something his friends said.  Nudging you up slightly, your friend asks, “Want me to come with?”  Shaking your head softly, you declined, “I need to talk to him and I’m pretty sure if I bring you you’ll just glare at him intensely like a lion waiting to pounce.”  Chuckling softly she replied, “Well if you need help just yknow shout and I’m ready.”  She mimed punching someone then as if feeling your nerves, she softly gripped your hand, “It’ll be fine.  Seriously, I can tell how much he’s changed since he’s been with you.  When he looks at you he looks like he is staring into the face of God, like he’s head over heels for you.”  Nodding you gripped her hand back for comfort before letting go to talk to Draco.  His head lifted up as soon as he saw you, a smile forming on his lips immediately at the sight of you, eyes widening like a puppy seeing his owner come home all he needed was a tail.  A girl at the table said something, immediately causing Draco to give an intense glare that if looks could kill you know her head would’ve toppled off and flown twenty feet into next Tuesday.  He stood up walking up to you and grasping your hand in his, “Hey, darling.  I didn’t get to see you yesterday.”  His blue eyes seemed to glow and change colors under the lights as you were drawn towards the comfort of his arms.  “I’m sorry I was kind of tired.”  He nodded as you continued, “Ummmm...are you busy?  We need to talk.”  His face seemed to contort between being worried and trying to keep a smile on.  Looking over his shoulder, he said, “Hey, be right back!”  before turning again to give a final soft glare.  

He took your hand in his leading you out into the hallway before finding a staircase.  “Is something wrong?”  he asked before worry creased his eyebrows even more, “Did I do something, love?”  Breathing to keep your voice from cracking you burst out quickly, “Are you embarrassed of me?” His face turned into utter confusion as he looks to your face, “Embarrassed?  What do you mean, darling?  Why would I be embarrassed?”  Hands trembling you hold his gaze, biting back tears, “I-I just” taking another deep breath you continued, “Pansy told me that you invited her to your family Christmas dinner.  But not me?  Did you not want your parents to see me?”  Draco’s mouth turns into a tight line, confirming your suspicions slightly before he places a hand on your cheek and sighed audibly, “That Pansy...I’m going to-” sighing and ruffling his perfectly gelled hair he continued, “I would never be embarrassed of you, you’re amazing...there’s no better words to describe you besides that you are the love of my life. I didn’t invite her I was asking her how I should invite you because...because we’ve been dating and of course I want you to meet my parents.”  His eyes meet yours briefly before skirting away to look at your hands, “I was afraid it would make you nervous to meet them since they’re not...they’re not the-”  His shoulders slump as he hears a soft sniffle from you, “I suggested she come with one of your friends to ease the dinner process and...and then you could stay the night…”  His hands were picking at each other as if he was having a very intense thumb war with himself, “I understand if you don’t want to come over or even spend the night it might be rushing-”  Cutting him off with a chaste kiss to the lips you smile grabbing his hands in yours, “You’re going to have bloody fingers doing that...Draco, my love, I would love to come over for dinner and...and spend the night.”  A smile spreads across his cheeks quickly as you continue, “We’ve been together for two years I definitely don’t think we’re rushing things and you’ve already met my parents it’s about time I meet yours...even if they don’t like me.”  He places a kiss on your forehead, pushing hair from your face as you opened your mouth to continue, “I do have one condition though.”  He raised his eyebrows in response, prompting you to continue, “Hermione gets to be my plus one.”  Draco’s mouth stutter softly, “Granger?  Why not any of your other friends?”  You smile softly, “Number one because if I brought any of my other friends we might have a full-on war at your house and you know that, especially knowing your father, my friend might bite his head off. Also, I love Hermione and I want her to come if she wants to.”  Draco nodded his head, knowing that your first point was very true, once when one his friends made a side comment about your appearance because you had decided to wear more fitting clothes and before Draco could respond your best friend immediately sent a fist flying his way and he learned from a broken nose not to mess with you.  From then on it was as if they had a silent agreement that they both loved you and would let no one harm you.  You kissed his cheek, rubbing your nose against his slightly before pulling away, “Alright, it’s decided then.  I’m spending Christmas with you and then we’re going back to my house the next day to bake cookies?  My mother misses you she thinks you’re an angel.”  Rolling your eyes softly as Draco chuckled you followed with, “I swear on Godric’s balls that she loves you more than me.  I’m pretty sure she wants us to get married just so you can be her son.”  Draco’s eyebrows perked up slightly as you realized what you’d said as he smiled softly with a glint in his eyes, “So, you talk about marrying me at home?”  Punching his shoulder you snorted, “Noooo…..”  As he laughed, “Speaking of marriage I think I’d like to have a daughter-”  Punching his arm slightly you kissed his lips, “Don’t get ahead of yourself pretty boy we’ve got a long ways to go before we think of kids, but if we did I think two is a good number.”  Draco’s eyes lit as he smiled softly at you, light reflecting off his hair making him look ethereal.  His forehead touched yours as he whispered, “I love you, y/n and I promise I’ll forever be yours.”  Eyes tearing up softly you smiled, “I love you too, Draco...ugh you’re making me cry.”

  Safe to say dinner went as well as could during Christmas with Hermione being as polite as possible and as soon as Draco’s father made a comment you and Hermione immediately went to town on putting him in his place.  This must’ve impressed him as he bit back any comments he said for the rest of dinner and made peace with you.  

The next day, your mother immediately went to Draco as she gave him a big hug, “Mom, just in case you forgot I’m your daughter.”  Draco laughed as your mother waved you off affectionately and he kissed your mom’s hand, “Honey, just wait I got dinner prepared for you.  I’m sure you’re hungry from traveling.”  Your dad came around to get your bags as he gave you a side hug, “He’s a good one, that boy.  In case the day comes, I want you to know I’m okay with you marrying him.  Don’t let him know though I want him to work for it.”  Laughing you linked arms with your dad, “He is a good one.  I love him, dad, like I really do.”  He patted your  shoulder watching as Draco was walking into your house arm linked with your mom as he turned and smiled at you, “I know sweetheart, and if I know anything about love I can tell that he’d do anything for you.”  Your mom peeked her head out the door, “Hurry up, y/n!  You’re letting the food get cold!”  “Okay, okay mom!”  Baking cookies with Draco was amazing as he helped...well if you call rubbing flour over your face helping.  Nonetheless, the cookies tasted amazingly perfect as your mother pulled you to the side before everyone was heading to bed.  “You know, honey...can I tell you something?”  Nodding you let her continue, “That boy...that boy is in love with you.  He stares at you like you’re his sunshine, I mean he could not take his eyes off you all night”  She sighed contentedly as she hummed softly walking off to bed, “Goodnight honey, and tell my future son-in-law good night too.”  Draco came around the corner as he said, “Good night, mom.”  If your mother cried any harder it would’ve been the most embarrassing night of your life second to when you threw up on your best friend after having one too many desserts at the Yule Ball.

[missdawnandherdusk]

Slytherin Extensive Dating a Malfoy Headcanons:

Here’s to all of my lovely Slytherin followers!

You’re sorted into Slytherin and you don’t quite understand why, but there had to be a reason. Draco didn’t quite understand either but not like he cares. pffft. nope. 

You’re a odd Slytherin. No one can deny your ambition or hesitancy to do things just right, but there are some times that you surprise everyone

Draco thinks you don’t belong in Slytherin but damn you’re good at Quidditch

You play as a Keeper. He thinks that it’s stupid but you give him a flash of your smile and maybe he’s forgotten what he’s supposed to be doing on the field too

He swears your part veela because people just stop and do things for you all the time

“Oh, I’ve forgotten my quill, does anyone have an extra?” There are about ten at your disposal from others that you always return with that same distracting smile not that he noticed 

You always get out of trouble, no matter what it is. With Filch or Snape or McGonagall. You just had a way with words and it frustrated him

And oh the way you snark at Potter. It’s not cruel like his normal taunts but you always have a way to sneak that smile in and a wicked quip leaving both he and Harry gaping after you

When Buckbeak goes to attack him, you’re right there, smiling and speaking softly to the beast and it backs down, charmed like everyone else “It’s alright, there’s no need to feel threatened, just calm,” Buckbeak then lets you and Draco approach and you give him that smile and the boy is a goner

“Malfoy?” You call his attention. “Huh what?” He blinks. “Are you alright?” You laugh and maybe he wasn’t paying attention the first time you asked him

You always looked so put together and confident whenever he was around, whenever he noticed you, you were always smiling and flawless and it wasn’t fair in his opinion because it just looked so effortless

First years from any house are hanging onto your every word because you’re always there to show them the way or give them advice on how to get on a professor’s good side which has him sulking because you never talk to him like that

Oh but wait until someone crosses you. He thought you had the patience of a saint but bloody hell 

One of your friends lies to you constantly? Someone betrays you? Oh you have receipts and evidence lined up against them. People from other houses and different years are at your defense because they know it just like you do. You’re ex-friend is a backbiter and damn Merlin if they think you’ll let them get away with it and honestly Draco can’t decide if he’s scared or turned on when he sees the fires of hell in your eyes

But then you catch sight of him and your smile is back and you wave and he’s gawking because yeah he’s definitely both scared and turned on

Even though everyone whispers around the school about what went down, you still hold your head high and still look flawless

But one night he finds you in the Slytherin common room, sitting in the window seat, watching the murky water of the lake, crying silently Draco starts panicking because what is he supposed to do you’re always put together what do you mean you’re crying alone

“Uh... are you okay?” He has no idea why he’s asking, but he can’t just leave you here... can he? 

You immediately wipe away your tears and smile, but Draco can see right through this one. He leans against the wall beside the window, waiting for you to explain

“Am... am I really vindictive, manipulative, and controlling?” You seem so insecure as you hug your knees. “I... I know Slytherins are cunning and ambitious... but I don’t want to be a bad person...”

He’s staring again because you always seem to keep him on his toes for trying to figure you out. And he’s never seen you as anything less than perfect and he’s not stopping now. You’re just more real

“You’re not a bad person,” He finally says, sitting on the window seat with you. Teary-eyed you look at him, and now he’s furious towards whoever thought they could make you think you’re a bad person

You laugh hopelessly and again, wipe away your tears. “Thanks Draco,” It’s the first time you’ve ever used his first name

He just nods and leaves you to your thoughts again. Now he’s asking around to what could possibly have you so upset and doubting of yourself even though you’re still put together in the halls, your head held high and maybe he hopes that someone might understand him back he’s not as put together as he seems either

You often come to him now when you’re really stressed out and you don’t want anyone else to know, but you know Draco won’t tell anyone nor judge you

Sometimes he just knows where to find you when you’re thinking alone and he has some sort of sweet, or tea, or something. You two just sit together, not saying anything, but not acting like you have it all together either

You notice in Fourth Year that Draco starts to slip through the cracks of falling into being like his father and you know he’s scared to be like his father but you also know what it’s like to not know what else to do

Draco notices that you’re getting a lot of attention from Viktor Krum and his school buddies. They all seem to have fallen for the same smile that he did but they couldn’t have you, they would never understand you like he did. How dare they even think it

“Do you want to go to the first task with me?” You ask him and he snaps his quill because Merlin how do you move so quietly “Me? Why don’t you go with one of your Durmstrang blokes?” He snaps. 

You gape at him. Sure, you knew you were getting attention from those guys, but was it really enough to make Draco jealous? “I don’t want to go with them, they’re entitled uncivilized imbeciles.” You scoff. “I want to go with you. Idiot!” Then you storm off. 

Draco realizes oh my stars I fucked up shitshitshitshitshitshit uh um bloody hell what to i do

So he chases after you and grabs your hand in the middle of that hall between classes so there are students everywhere

“I’m sorry,” He rushes out and you tilt your head, waiting. “If... if you still want to go with me...” 

“Malfoy bothering you?” One of the Durmstrang asks, coming up beside you, placing a hand on your shoulder and Draco’s blood just boils

But before Draco can get his wand out, you have the guy on the floor groaning in pain taking him down muggle style and Draco has gone back to being scared and turned on You smile at him and take his hand, on your way to the pitch to watch the task

He guesses that you’re dating now? No one ever offiaclly said anything and not much has changed except you always find him in the halls and hold his hand and maybe his most recent batch of Amortentia smells just like your perfume and favorite sweet... And maybe yours smells just like his cologne and favorite tea...

He eventually gets the words out: “Do you want to go out with me?” He’s stuttering and blushing because you two are alone and he doesn’t have to be Mr. PerfectTM and you’re smiling at him again and you’re making it so difficult for him and you know it

“Well duh,” You finally laugh. “You’re so dense sometimes Dray,” 

Everyone thinking that you are the EliteTM couple on campus because of how well you both charade perfection...

When you’re really just total goofballs. You like doodling stupid things on his notes and he always has a cheesy pickup lines at the ready. You two flirt but it’s more like banter because you’re already his and Merlin does everyone ship it 

Tickle fights / “For you my lady,” “Well thank you kind sir,” / Inside jokes / Maybe a prank or two that eventually escalates and ends when Draco has vibrant blue hair and you get the last laugh but merlin does he look good

His parents and your parents believe that they have the perfect couple between you two. Such decorum and tradition, and refinement. (And you and Draco are flying upside down on your brooms, running barefoot through the Manors, making a mess in the kitchen trying to bake without magic, blasting music in the halls and singing off key and dancing) Narcissa knows all of this and adores that you bring such joy to Draco’s life

Umbridge has met her match with you. She is completely enchanted with you, even though you’re running an underground network against her at the school and she doesn’t have the slightest idea Draco is so impressed and Merlin does he love how cunning you are

When No Nose comes back and fear is a constant lingering in the school and amongst Slytherins, you slowly drop your prefect facade and let others know it’s okay to not be okay. “Little Miss Perfect isn’t so perfect is she?” “No, but I am real,” 

You get fascinated with Dark Magic, because well, everyone keeps talking about it and you think that it’s stupid to be afraid of something you don’t know about so you learn and it doesn’t seem so scary when you realize there are counter curses and jinxes that spread like wildfire in the school in an underground network you and Hermione set up

Draco takes the Dark Mark, and so do you. You won’t leave him on his own. You want loyal and cunning and ambitious? Bring it No Nose who honestly believes that you’re on his side and for his cause because who can lie to him? You can.

 You stay at the Manor with Draco during the holidays. It’s almost vital that both you and Draco pull your masks of perfection back on for the sake of surviving. Which leave you both doing things that has you breaking down in each other arms in the quiet of the night because how did it come to this?

Using the same underground network, you feed encrypted information to the Golden Trio and Hogwarts. You always go down and talk with Luna and keep her company behind a silencing charm or two

You punch Pansy in the face when she suggests handing over Harry. 

You and Draco both stand with Hogwarts during the battle. You actually laugh when confusion breaks out across the Death Eaters and No Nose and you have the urge to scream “I’m a Slytherin! Who did you think you were dealing with!?” And maybe you do

After the war it’s hard facing anyone because for so long they thought that you and Draco had gone dark side, but slowly tensions ease and things get better and there’s a light at the end of the table.

You and Draco redeem the Slytherin House and later after you’re married to each other, McGonagall comes and asks you to teach and to be the Head of House for Slytherin

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[wreckofawriter]

The Need For You

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Sirius' Daughter!reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: none, swears?

Request (from my wattpad): Can you do something with Sirius Blacks daughter and Draco? Shes a Gryffindor also thank you sm I love ur work!!

A/n: Before you destroy me in the comments, ik that Sirius got killed by Bellatrix not Lucius but idc. It's for plot. Anyway hope you enjoy! Request are open!

    You had tried being nice, you really had. The first years when you were plunged into the wizarding world you had smiled and nodded taking abuse and ridicule from most of those at your school. It wasnt always direct, sometimes it was just the hatred and the whispers that you could feel from across the hall, you were disrespected, treated like you were less of a human than the rest. So you stopped being nice, in the third year instead of smiling you snarled, you stopped nodding when people told you you weren’t worth anything. You were done being spit on because of your last name. 

    Third-year was not a good one for you. Your last name was in all the papers, headlining the daily prophet. It was whispered in halls and spoken quietly between teachers. Sirius Black had escaped and now everyone was scared he was going to find you. People stopped talking to you. One of the girls locked you out of your dormitory, fearful your father would come looking for you. That was how you officially met Draco Malfoy. 

    You wandered the halls, not sure where you were even going. As you rounded a corner you locked eyes with the blonde boy who had his hands stuffed in the pockets of his robes. You figured he wouldn’t say anything as you passed but you were wrong. 

    “Why are you out of bed?” Draco sneered narrowing his eyes.

    “None of your business Malfoy.” You spat back shouldering past him and to your surprise he chuckled. 

    “It’s nice that you dropped the act you know.” You could feel his eyes on you as you paused. 

    You spun around, “What act?” 

    “The one you put on last year. It was a bit annoying, the whole nice girl thing.” He shrugged, “It’s good to see your true colors finally shining through.” 

    “Go fuck yourself.” you scoffed walking back down the hall.

    He only smirked and watched you leave.

    Draco was interesting. He was a dick, you knew that his dad was a rich asshole and he wasn’t any different. But much to your surprise he or anyone else from his possie for that matter ever messed with you. At first, you thought they feared your father, or even you but you began to suspect something else. Draco, Goyle, Crabbe, Parkinson, they had nothing to pick on you for. Their parents were killers too, it would be like a pot calling a kettle black. If you weren’t wearing red robes you may have even been friends with them, maybe. But something told you you could never look at Pansy without wanting to knock her teeth in. 

    Draco nodded to you in halls, occasionally smiled at you in classes and when moved next to you for being too loud in Transfiguration he was relatively pleasant, despite a few unpleasant comment here and there. He still irked you, he was whiny and weak, he hadn’t had to work a day in his life and you figured he never would, but the truth was he was your first actual friend. 

    Everything changed when suddenly Harry Potter, someone you had been desperately trying to avoid, pulled you aside and tell you what you thought was an elaborate prank. He then brought you to your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher who had told you it was all true.

    You were stunned, your father wasn’t a killer, he hadn’t betrayed his friends he hadn’t murdered anyone. He would be free, you would be free too. Free from glares and ridicule. All of that came crashing down when they explained that Peter Pettigrew, your only proof had gotten away. 

    You had been angry for a while. Everything you had been told your entire life, by your peers, your teachers, your mother, it was all a lie. And now only you and four others knew that. It was almost like some sort of cruel trick.  You got over it by the next year. You realized that while everyone still thought you were a killer’s daughter, you knew you weren’t and that was enough. 

    The Golden Trio befriended you. At first, it seemed forced, like they were acting, mocking friendship. But the awkwardness melted away and you found yourself with friends, ones you could laugh and talk with. It was nice, really nice. You were finally happy. 

On your fourteenth birthday you got a card from an owl you didn’t recognize. When you read the small note you almost cried. It was from your father. He told you he was sorry. He was sorry he wasn’t there for you, that he couldn’t properly meet you. He said he loved you and always would. 

Draco hated it. He hated when out of nowhere you were suddenly best friends with Harry Potter. It was sickening. Why did Harry Potter get everything he wanted? None of it was fair, you were supposed to be his. He was livid, he had made progress with you, you looked at him in the halls you had snorted at some of his jokes and now you were practically attached to his arch-enemy. So Draco did the natural thing. He hated you. He pushed you down and called you names. He belittled you and your father, he called you weak, stupid, pathetic. You snapped back. You always did, you weren’t like the others. 

You spat nasty nicknames back at him, you pulled him down with you. And that was the most interaction with you Draco ever got. He spent his fourth year in a swarm of jealousy and anger only making things a thousand times worse for himself. 

You didn’t think of Draco much, you missed his snarky comments and the banter you had with him but not a lot. His sudden torment of you made it easy to forget that he had once been nice. You got used to hating him, he made it so easy.

When you finally met your father it was strange, like someone had pointed at a stranger and told you that that person loves you more than anything else in the world and you were supposed to love them the same. You knew he was still your dad it was just all so weird. It seemed like he knew Harry far better than he knew you. It didn’t take you long to actually begin to care for the man. He was easy to talk to, despite the awkwardness of the entire situation there was never an uncomfortable silence. You were calling him Sirius for a while, maybe it was because you just didn’t want to call him dad or maybe it was because you were afraid too. Either way just as you were leaving to go back to school you called him it by mistake, he had engulfed you in a hug, and that was the first time in a long time you had cried. 

    Draco seemed off the entire year. He didn’t put nearly as much time into bullying as he usually did. He bounced around a lot, looking almost paranoid as if he knew something was coming that you didn’t. He joined Umbridges group of assholes and broke Harry’s nose but he didn’t even look at you, you were invisible to him. 

    But you weren’t invisible. Draco wasn’t sure what it was but when he lay his eyes on you in fifth year he had been completely enamored. He had liked you before, as much as he tried to deny that he had. But now it was like someone had turned a knob and he couldn’t even look at you without feeling an intolerable need. A need for you. So he did what he could, he ignored you completely, he would force his eyes away from you at meals, he threw himself into classes forgetting about the outside world. He didn’t speak to you until a few days before he was supposed to go home. 

   

    You couldn’t breathe. You felt like you were getting punched in the gut over and over again. You had just gotten him back. After 14 years you had finally hugged him and loved him. And now he was dead. 

    You were going to kill him, part of you really wanted to, it was what he deserved, what he would get. You found him late at night, your eyes were hot with tears as you approached him, your wand clutched so tightly in your had your knuckles were beginning to go white. 

    “Malfoy!” You shouted, there was no one around to hear. 

    He turned and to your surprise his own grey eyes were glassy, his face was streaked with tears, their trials shining silver in the delicate moonlight. He looked so incredibly broken at that moment your wand dropped back to your side. 

“I heard about your dad.” He croaked, “My dad did it right?” 

You stood silent tears dripping off your chin, your eyes narrowed, mouth curled in hurt. 

“I’m sorry y/n. I’m so sorry.” He spoke taking a few steps towards you. 

You raised your wand back up, it sat inches from his neck. You shook with sobs, your throat was closing up around nothing, your blood rushed in your ears. 

Draco didn’t flinch, he just stared down at you, you looked so pretty with tears in your eyes, they glinted like stars. Your cheeks were flushed a fragile shade of pink, they almost matched your lips. 

“I hate you.” You whispered and for a second you thought you were going to do it. But then the second passed and you dropped your arm back to your side spinning on your heel and walking back to your common room. 

Draco watched you leave, his own tears thick and sticky on his cheeks, those three words hurt more than any spell you could have cast. 

    You went back to scowling the following year. You were short with people, you glared more often than you laughed. Draco knew you were watching him, he knew you didn’t trust him, you knew he was up to something. 

    But the way you looked at him was off. It wasn’t the way Harry, Ron and Hermione did, it wasn’t full of the hatred you claimed to have. It was observant, keen, and almost soft. It was strange that Draco couldn’t quite place it. 

    “I don’t hate you.” You said suddenly to him one day on your way down to the greenhouse. It was hot out, the sound of birds and laughter around you. “I hate your father, but I don’t hate you.” 

    Draco just stared at you, your hair was glowing in the sunlight, your lips glistened with lip balm, you peered up at him expecting him to say something. 

    “I just thought you should know.” You finished before continuing down the slope. Draco stood frozen for a moment.

    “Wait!” 

    You stopped turning back to the boy as he took quickened steps towards you. “What?” you asked when he reached you.

    “I’m sorry y/n, about everything.” He said, “I really am.” 

    You paused biting your bottom lip, “I know.” you smiled softly.

   

    You nodded to Draco in the hallways again. You sat next to each other in Herbology and you talked quietly in the dead of night. Draco felt his affection towards you grow with each smile and look his way. You knew what was pierced into his skin but you never mentioned it, instead, you talked about meaningless things like quidditch games ad muggle music. Draco became your escape from the real world. He reminded you of when things were easy if they ever were. 

   

    It was late May. The crickets and frogs at the edge of the black lake were loud in your ears. You and Draco lay side by side in the dewy grass, your robes dampening as you stared up at the stars. It had been your idea, star gazing, you did it for the astronomy tower often but it was different out on the grass, it was better. 

    You felt Dracos hand twitch beside yours, his thumb brushing the top of your palm. Without thinking much you reached out and grabbed it, eyes still glued on the sky. 

    Draco felt his face heat at the feeling of your hand in his own, your skin was soft, it felt good to have your fingers intertwined with his own. He turned his head to look at you. The stars reflected in your eyes, your hair splayed around you as moonlight carved your face with delicate slopes and ridges. You were so incredibly gorgeous. 

    You felt his stare turning to meet his eyes. You stayed still for a second a soft wind rippling the grass around you. Your heartbeat droned in your ears, its beat slowly increasing as you stared into deep pools of icy grey. 

    Draco broke the silence his grip on your hand tightening, “I’m in love with you y/n.” 

    You didn’t move, you didn’t even look surprised, your eyes continued to flick around his face as if you were looking for something. You moved closer to him, your heartbeat so loud the sound of crickets drowned out behind it. You were inches form him when you finally spoke, your eyes trained on his, staring deep into his thoughts. “I know.” your voice was a whisper, breath fanning over his face. 

    Draco leaned forward, waiting for you to stop him but you didn’t. Your eyes slipped closed and you met slowly. Your lips were smooth and soft against Draco’s slightly chapped ones, your hands found their way to his hair as his wrapped around your neck pulling you close to him. The kiss was sweet and slow, he tasted minty and warm. Your tongue swiped his bottom lip and they parted allowing you to deepen the kiss as he tugged lightly on your hair. 

    You broke apart slowly, breath mingling as you stared into his eyes, “I need you Draco.” you mumbled pulling yourself into his embrace. 

Taglist:

@accio-rogers

@roslea

@k3nz-doodl3

@theseuscmander

@sleepingalaska

Masterlist

[fred-george-fic]

In the Middle Pt. 1

Cedric x Reader & George x Reader (Eventually)

AN: Hi Everyone! I recently really got into Harry Potter (I am extremely late to the game, I know) and immediately fell in love with two characters, Cedric Diggory and George Weasley. So for the last few months, I have been working on a fan fiction revolving around those two boys. I have already written the story through Goblet of Fire and hope to improve my writing throughout this journey. I also understand theres already a fic like this in progress, but I didn’t want my fic to go to waste. So, I hope you enjoy! (P.S. I am REALLY working on becoming a more in-depth writer and hope to improve as time goes on.)

Summary: Y/N is attending the Quidditch World Cup with the Weasleys, Hermione and Harry. 

Pairing(s): Cedric x Reader & George x Reader (eventually)

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Italics/Bold = past event. none.

Masterlist

The Quidditch World Cup

You wake up in Ginny’s room within the Burrow, where both Hermione and Ginny are fast asleep. Quietly, you slide out of bed and begin getting ready waking both girls as you do. As you head down the stairs, you can smell the delicious scent of Molly Weasley’s cooking. As you come around the corner, you notice two identical boys and Arthur Weasley sitting at the table. Both George and Fred have been your best friends since your first ride on the Hogwarts Express.

You remember being so nervous to go off to Hogwarts not knowing any other children your age. As you stepped onto platform 9 ¾ you noticed a large family all with ginger hair. Neither of your parents were able to accompany you to the station, so you were utterly alone. Maybe you looked lost or stared at the family too long, but the woman you presumed to be their mother waved you over. “Come here, dear! Don’t be afraid, its George and Fred’s first day at Hogwarts too.” The woman exclaimed. “My other sons attend too, this is Bill, Charlie and Percy.” She points at each boy as she says their names. “Oh, and I am Molly Weasley, who might you be dear?”

“Oh, uh I’m Y/N L/N” You give a slight wave to the family and they all smile and wave back.

“Y/N, huh?” One of the twins say, who you think is Fred.

“Well, Y/N, you can share a booth with us!” The other one states, who you believe in George.

“Oh, thank you” You smile at the two boys as they lead you with them to a booth and you all chat happily until you get to Hogwarts.

Your friendship with the boys has continued throughout the years and now you are all about to enter your sixth year. You sit at the table next to George who gives you a wide smile and continues shoveling food into his mouth. “Oh, Good Morning dear!” Molly says as she cleans the kitchen up.

“Good morning Molly!” You begin to add various breakfast foods to your plate and hear the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs, watching as Harry, Hermione, Ron and Ginny take their seats and immediately start eating. You could tell that Ron just woke up, from his constant yawning and eye rubbing. After breakfast, you all grab your bags and head outside in order to begin the trek to transport to the stadium. As we approached the bottom of the hill, Arthur began talking to a man.

“My apologies, someone had a hard time waking up this morning” Arthur said looking back at Ron. “Everyone, this is Amos Diggory. We work together at the Ministry” Just then a boy dropped down from the tree, someone you had seen at Hogwarts before. “Ah yes, and you may know his son Cedric.”

Hermione, Ginny and I shared glances with each other, a type of look only given by girls who fancy a boy. When you look back at Cedric, you make eye contact and see a slight smile form on his mouth. He was handsome with bright grey eyes and brown hair, so you couldn’t help but smile and tuck your hair behind your ear. Then Ginny and Hermione shared a knowing look between each other. 

As you begin making your way up the hill, Cedric matches his footsteps with yours so that you are walking side by side. “Hello Cedric” you look up at him.

“Y/N, right? In Gryffindor?” He looks at you for a long moment, a small smile spreading across his face.

“Yes, Hufflepuff yourself, correct?”

Cedric nods his head. “You know; I’ve seen you on the Quidditch pitch. You’re a pretty good chaser, for a Gryffindor.” He teased.

“Ah, coming from a seeker, I guess I’ll take it as a compliment.” you laugh lightly.

Cedric let out a laugh and discussed Quidditch with you as you made your way up the hill to the boot just sitting at the top. While talking to him, you noticed George and Fred periodically looking back at you. Last time we had discussed Cedric, both boys referred to him as “Pretty Boy Diggory” and were angry the Dementors got in the way, knocking Harry off the broom and allowing Hufflepuff to win last year. Everyone gathers around the portkey, grabbing onto it. Just before it launched us into the air, Arthur yells at Harry to grab on. “Harry!” He exclaims loudly.

The moment Harry grabbed the portkey everyone spun into the air in a whirlwind. “Alright, let go!” Arthur yells. One by one we all released our grip from the portkey, crashing onto the ground. In your case, you accidently land right on top of George. You hear him groan as you land with a thud. “George! I am so sorry!” You quickly get up and help him get to his feet.

“That’s quite alright” He laughs. Everyone gets up and dusts themselves off, only to observe the patrons walking around the various tents outside the stadium.

We will see you in the High Box later, Amos” Arthur said “Come on then everyone!” He began walking towards the crowd of people beckoning for everyone to follow him.

Cedric and his dad started walking in the opposite direction. He turned around slowly with a wide grin, stated “See you later, Y/N” and then kept walking. 

As we started following Arthur, Fred and George both put their arms around me “Ah, making friends with the enemy” They said in unison.

“You can’t be mad at someone just because they beat us in a quidditch match!” you exclaimed throwing your hands up.

“Sure we can!” They yelled walking into the tent and immediately putting their feet up on the table. You laughed softly and got ready to watch the game. 

The moment we stepped into the stadium, the excitement was contagious. You were wearing a green and white scarf, like Fred, George and Hermione. You let George paint green and white lines on your cheeks. While you felt the bet they had made wasn’t a wise idea, you knew it was best to stay positive about the whole situation. You climbed your way to the top and noticed that Amos and Cedric were already at the top and began to move over to allow you all in.

“Y/N” Cedric said smiling at you. “I told you I would see you soon”

“Well, you were correct. However, I had a feeling you knew that we’d have the same seats for the game” You smiled back at him, unsure what he was getting at. Fred and George each made their way to either side of you. “Hello, Diggory” They smirked, making it very obvious that you were matching with them.

“Fred. George.” Cedric said sternly. He looked at you, then back at the two boys with an unreadable expression. “I’ll talk with you later, Y/N” And then he walked away.  

“Bloody hell you two!” You playfully punched them each on the arms. “I talk to a boy for two seconds and you two have to come up all smug. 

“Come on Y/N! You know it’s all in good fun!” Fred exclaimed.

“We were only trying to intimidate him!” George followed.

“You are impossible” You yelled as the Irish quidditch players began to zoom overhead. The excitement continued well into the night, resulting in the Irish winning the Quidditch World Cup.

As you made your way back to the tent, you heard someone call your name some distance away. You turn around and notice Cedric running through the crowd towards you. “Cedric?” You stop in your tracks and turn around completely waiting for him to catch up.

“Mr. Weasley!” He yells causing Arthur to turn around and stand with you.

“Oh, Hello Cedric. What can I do for you?”

“Do you mind if I talk with Y/N outside the tent for a bit? We won’t travel too far off. No more than a yell away” Cedric looks at Arthur with a hopeful expression.

“Well, I don’t see why not!” Arthur turns and follows the rest of the group into the tent. You can hear the excitement between Ron, Fred and George as they erupt in laughter.

“I just wanted to apologize for earlier” Cedric rubbed the back of his neck, looking at you.

“For earlier?” You ask, not entirely sure what he means. “Oh, you mean with George and Fred? If anything, I should be the one apologizing. They have an issue with entering other conversations”

“Ah, just being protective them? I’ll admit, they can be a little intimidating” Cedric chuckles lightly looking at you.

You immediately begin laughing “Fred? George? Intimidating?” You continue laughing, making Cedric laugh with you.

“Alright, alright. Maybe that wasn’t the correct phrase” He continues, still laughing with you.

You both stand there silently for a moment, taking in the atmosphere of the cup. Cedric turns to look at you and begins to lean in slowly, eyes locked with yours. “Y/N-” A loud explosion interrupts Cedric causing the ground to become unsteady. You lose your balance and you fall against Cedric who manages to steady you. As you look around, you notice a fire erupting and more continue to appear. Arthur exits the tent first followed by everyone else. People are screaming and running madly, constantly knocking people over, not caring if anyone else is around. Someone knocks into you and you fall again, but this time into George, who catches you with ease. 

“George. Fred. Y/N. You’re in charge of Ginny. Everyone get to the portkey. Cedric and I will go look for his father and meet you there.” Arthur abruptly turns and grabs Cedric’s arm running in the opposite direction. You three take out your wands and begin running towards the portkey, noticing some hooded figures in the distance. You grab Ginny’s hand and George and Fred help you create a barrier protecting her from being knocked over. Eventually, you reach the portkey and begin to wait.

“Where are Harry, Hermione and Ron? I thought they were right behind us!” You look around but cannot seem to find them anywhere. After what feels like an eternity, Hermione and Ron come running up. “Where’s Harry?” You all ask at the same time.

“We lost him in the crowds. We hoped he made his way up here.” Hermione said just as Arthur, Cedric and Amos approached.

When you looked down the hill, you noticed that the crowds and hooded figures had all cleared out. But now up in the sky was the Dark Mark of he-who-shall-not-be-named. “Y/N, stay here with Ginny while we go down and find Harry” Arthur stated as everyone ran down in order to find him. As you watched everyone run down, you noticed a flash of red light and immediately grew with concern. Once you looked up, you saw it, the dark mark is already floating in the sky. Eventually, the group returned with Harry in tow and everyone used the portkey to travel back to the burrow.

[rainydayhogwartsimagines]

Whoops.

(Draco!Healer x reader!teacher)

Note: I am writing way too much about Draco, damn

Summary: Draco is a healer for Hogwarts, his best friend is a teacher and the students have seemed to notice a possible romance in the works

Warnings: Fluff, injuries, swearing, and yes you are shirtless in a scene or two, the phrase "eye shagging"

You stood beside your desk. "So in summary, no Gaston, you can not use that in a potion because it'd explode." You laughed out. The students all chuckled. "Ma'am.. i cut myself on my beaker can I go get a bandage?" A student asked. You rose a brow. "There's a broken beaker?" You asked. "Yeah, Gaston kind of used eye of newt when your back was turned." The student said. "...Great. Gaston, fifteen points from Gryffindor, miss Weasley get a band aid out of my top desk, class dismissed." You said with a small sigh. You got a bucket and picked up the broken glass. "Miss Weasley, class is--" "I know. But dad would kill me if I didn't help." She said. You chuckled. "I'm sure George wouldn't." You said, picking up shards of glass from the floor. You however picked up the shard the wrong way, cutting your palm. "Shit!" You hissed. "Oh no! Do I need to get a bandage--" "I'm a afraid a bandaid won't fix this." You laughed. "Thank you dear, you should get to class. I got lucky that I don't have students this hour." You assured. She nodded and left, leaving the small mess of glass. You cleaned it up, walking to Madame Pomfrey. "Oh dear, what happened to your hand!?" She asked. "Gaston Burkley decided eye of newt looked fantastic in a antidote for common poisons." You explained. "Goodness that boy loves to cause trouble." She huffed. "Draco will tend to you." She said. "Wait did you say--" A head popped out from a curtain. "Hello there." He greeted with a smile. You smirked. "So when you said 'I got a new job' this is what you meant?" You asked. He chuckled. "Yes." He nodded walking over to you. "Holy crap what happened to your hand?" He asked looking down at it. "A kid decided to add eye of newt to a potion that did not require eye of newt." You said. He chuckled and asked you to sit down. You sat in a seat and he pulled a stool forward, grabbing disinfectant, tweezers and a bandage. He pulled your hand forward. "How big was this shard of glass?" He asked. "Well it was a big beaker so-- Ow!" You winced. "Focus on the questions Y/n." He said. "So you became a potions teacher." He said. "And you became-- Ow-- a pain in my arse apparently." You winced. He chuckled. "After the battle I wanted to help people. I decided medicine was the best way." He said. You smiled. "You always were so kind for someone who pretended to be such a dick." You teased. "I only showed that side to you though." He chuckled. You looked up at him. "We were really close weren't we?" You asked. He smiled looking up. "You were the reason I stayed with the students." He said softly. You felt your cheeks heat up. During the battle his father was so determined to get his son to be a deatheater and side with Voldemort. But the moment he even shifted you just took Draco's hand and he didn't budge. Knowing you were the whole reason he stayed... Really changed the atmosphere of the room.

He cleared his throat, looking down at your hand. "I don't think you'll need stitches but it will definitely scar." He said. "there goes my options of being a hand model." You joked. He chuckled. "I mean you have another hand" he teased. "True true. I think I'll stick to teaching though." You said. "I'm going to warn you this is going to burn." He warned. "I'm sure it's not that bad-- OW HOLY CRAP WHAT DID YOU DO, LIGHT IT ON FIRE!?" You winced. He tried not to laugh, ultimately failing and almost going red. You frowned, almost pouting at him. "Ass." You said making him laugh. "Forgive me but when you said 'I'm sure I can handle it' followed by the equivalent of 'No I can't' I can't help but laugh at that." He laughed out. "He's lucky he's cute. Bastard." You thought internally. He wrapped your hand. "Come to me if you need anything else okay?" He said. You nodded and returned to your classroom.

Class the next day was odd, to say the least. A student's wand seemed to be on the fritz. "What in the bloody blazes is--" "DUCK!" a student yelled. You ducked in time to avoid a bolt. "someone hexed his wand!" A student concluded. "Lily, go get the defense teacher-- Crap!" You dodged. You sighed in relief, narrowly avoiding a spark until "MISS Y/N LOOK OUT--"

You didn't exactly miss that last one. The defense teacher found you on the floor with a gouge in your chest. "Goodness! What happened?" She asked. "Someone hexed Francis' wand!" A student ducked under a desk answered. After removing the hex, she brought you to the wing. "Oh my goodness-- Draco!" Madame Pomfrey called. Draco walked out and saw you, his heart dropping as he did. "What happened!?" He asked. "A student's wand was hexed, tell me she's going to be fine." The teacher said. Draco pushed aside the uncomfortable feeling from removing your shirt and looked at the wound. "It's going to require stitched but I think she'll be fine." Pomfrey concluded. Mcgonagall ran in. "I heard a teacher was injured." She said. Draco was stitching you up, best to his abilities. "Goodness gracious these students will quite literally be the death of us." She sighed. Students were outside of the wing, catching Mcgonagall off guard. "Is she going to be alright?" A student asked. "she'll be fine--" "Who did this?" Mcgonagall asked. Everyone turned to Gaston. "Detention. You're lucky I don't expell you either." She said sharply. "Yes Headmaster." He sighed.

You were out like a light for a few days, Draco sitting by you any free time he had. Occasionally students would visit to see if you were okay, and maybe see the cute medic, but would leave after a few minutes.

You finally woke up though, wincing as you leaned up. "What in the bloody hell happened?" Your first words were. Draco resisted a snort. "That Berkely kid loves to cause trouble." Draco answered. You chuckled. "Ah. Reminds me of--" "Fred and George" both of you said before laughing. "How are those two?" Draco asked. "Mmm. Well I have to deal with the WONDERFUL offspring who clearly get merchandise from their shop." You answered. "How is... All of them?" Draco asked. You smiled. "They're good. Ron and Hermione had a nice wedding. Harry and Ginny did too." You said. "Ah." Draco nodded. "they've asked about you." You said as Draco grabbed antiseptic. He rose a brow turning around. "They have?" He asked. "mmm hmm." You nodded. "Molly says she's sent you sweaters..." You said. He chuckled and nodded. "How in the blazes did that woman even get my measurement.... y/n did you give her my measurements?" He asked making you chuckle. "Mayyyybbbeee." You said. He rolled his eyes. "I'm surprised they would even want to know about me after..." He shook his head. "You saved Fred's life. Molly would never forget something like that." You said. "I blasted a rock." He said. "You saved him." You corrected. Draco looked at you with a bandage in hand. "I'll write to her then..." Draco said with a small smile. "Is this the burning stuff?" You asked. "Sadly, yes." He said. "You must hate me. You've got to, to be using that." You groaned. He rolled his eyes. "Y/n I need you to remove your shirt." He said. You sighed unbuttoning it. "So did never got married?" You asked catching Draco off guard. "Uhm... No. No I didn't." He answered. "Huh." You said. Hermione would never let you here the end of this one. He applied the antiseptic and you winced. "Fucking hell." You groaned. Yep. That's definitely proof you never changed. You always had such a strong mouth. Strong will to back that up too. You leaned forward, allowing Draco to apply the bandages. "Thank you Draco." You said sincerely. He smiled. "You're welcome Y/n." He said. "Uhhh Mister Malfoy, Wesley fell off his broom again." A student called. "Again? Jesus how directionally challenged is this kid?" Draco asked making you laugh.

You went back to teaching, coming in during your breaks to change the bandages and catch up. However your wounds were almost healed and you were now just taking potions prescribed by Draco. Draco knocked on the door frame and you turned around. "It's that time already?" You groaned. "Afraid so." He said. "This stuff tastes like piss." You groaned as he handed you a glass. The students laughed. "You still don't have a filter, even with your students." He chuckled. "Draco, when have I ever?" You asked. "How long have you two known each other?" A student asked. Both of you pondered. "Way too long." You chuckled before drinking it. You coughed and gagged. "Seriously? Whoever designed that must have dead taste buds." You said. He laughed and you smiled. A student's nose began to bleed and he walked over, helping them. "Allergies?" You asked the kid. "I hate them." She grumbled. You smiled and sighed, turning back to write on the board. "At least you get more time with mister Malfoy though." The student said making both of you freeze in place. "What was that?" You asked turning back around. "We've all noticed it, the whole heart eyes, puppy love look you two give each other." A student said. You shook your head, picking up a bottled water and sipping it to get rid of the medicine's taste. "Please, they're practically shagging each other with their eyes." Fred's son, Arthur declared making you cough up the water and Draco turn crimson. "Weasley!" A student scolded. "Those were my Dad's words when describing those two! He said ever since third year the two of them were always looking at each other that way." He said. Draco chuckled. "Of course Fred did." Draco muttered, mentally punching Fred in his mind. "Seriously though, it is obvious that you two are in love." Another student said. "We aren't--" "No we aren't--" "That's--" you both stuttered over every word. "See, you can't even lie about it." Arthur said. You blushed and turned back to the board. "Wait your dad knew them in their third year?" A student asked. "Mister Malfoy saved my dad's life in the battle of hogwarts." Arthur answered. A bunch of students let out "Woahs" and "oohs" but you snorted. "Told you he held you in high regard!" You said to Draco. "Oh sod off." Draco laughed.

"My nose is still not letting up, am I dying?" The student asked. "You're not dying, you might've scratched the inside of it though" Draco said turning back to the student. "Miss Y/n also comes over for all of the holidays and talks a lot about Mister Malfoy too." Arthur said making you snap the chalk with how hard you bared down on it. "Can we please change the subject Arthur!?" You asked. "Yes ma'am." He laughed out. Draco smiled to himself but noticed you didn't ask them to stop talking. You actually would chime in on the personal conversation occasionally as you wrote. "Wait so you knew the Auror Harry?" A student asked. "The Potters go here dude, this isn't new." A student replied. "Yeah but still." They said. "We both knew him." Draco said, cleaning up the remnants of the nosebleed. "My mum knew you too. Said something about punching you in your third year" the student said making you snort. "Is your mother Hermione?" He asked. "Yes." The girl nodded. "That's true." Draco said making the students laugh. "Let's not forget he was a good quidditch player too." You reminded. "Not as good as you were." Draco corrected. "Draco, you could've been in the big leagues if you wanted." You said. "You're the one that managed to trigger a sonic boom while flying." Draco reminded. "You both played quidditch?" A student asked. "Yes. Draco had won most of the matches he was in." You said. "Aside from you and--" you both mimicked the voice Draco would use when talking about Harry "Potter." You both said making the students laugh.

"Do you like teaching instead miss Y/n?" A student asked. You turned around, a sincere smile as you faced the class. "I wouldn't trade this for the world." You said. Draco's heart skipped a beat looking at your happy expression. "It is strange teaching my friends' children though." You added making the students laugh. Draco smiled at that and a student noticed his look. "Was it fun going to school with our parents?" Another student asked. "Oh most definitely. Especially Arthur and Bill's parents. Those two were insane." You laughed. "Oh are you referring to the underground business they ran or the explosives they set off to anger Umbridge?" Draco asked. "Wait what?" A student asked. "Oh yeah, that was a fun day wasn't it?" You laughed. "Fun? It was fantastic." He said. He shook his head "But nothing will ever beat--" "Hogsmeade." Both of you said. You both exchanged looks and the students all felt the tension between you two. "They're doing that thing again." A student whispered. "Oh you mean SHAGGING WITH THEIR EYES!?" Arthur yelled making both of you dissolve into laughter along with the students. "I should go, sorry for disturbing your class." Draco said. "Bye Draco." You waved. He left and you shook your head.

"You so take after your father." You said to Arthur. "We were serious about you and Mister Malfoy though!" A student said. "you two would be perfect for each other Miss Y/n!" Another agreed. "Goodness knows he's in love at least." Another student said. You shook your head with a small smile. "what on earth would make you think that?" You asked. "Maybe the fact that while you were asleep he never left your side. Or the fact that you're with him everytime you're given a break. Or as Arthur said 'the eye shagging of a lifetime'." The student declared. "Oh won't you admit it Miss Y/n? At least say he's attractive!" A student begged. "Don't you guys have anything better to do than gossip over faculty members?" You groaned. "The student's drama is so DULL. This is the highlight of the year! Give us something! Pleassee!" A student begged. You sighed turning back to the board making the students groan. "He's cute." You said making the students roar with delight.

That day was so tiring. You walked into the medic wing and he looked up. "Hey you." He said with a smile. "Hi. I'm exhausted." You said, face planting onto an empty bed. He laughed. "Students tired you out?" He asked. "Oh God. Do not remind me of those little mongrels." You groaned. He shook his head with a smile. "they seemed fixated on me and you" he said. "Oh they love to talk." You chuckled. "One of the students came for their medication earlier." He said grabbing something. "Oh?" You asked. "they said that you concluded that I was 'Cute'." He said with a teasing smile. Snitch. Thar kid was a little snitch.

You rolled your eyes. "These students will be the death of me." You groaned. Draco noticed your avoidance around your answer. "Did you actually call me cute?" He asked, a smirk coming to play on his lips. "I'm not answering that." You laughed out. "Hmm. I'm thinking I know the answer now." He said. You rolled your eyes. "Yes Draco I called you cute." You finally answered. He shook his head with a chuckle.

The two of you never brought it up again until the next time he came with that disgusting medicine. "Oh yay! Poison!" You said. "Y/n you act like a child when it comes to this." Draco said. The students laughed at the banter. You drank it, again, gagging as you did. "It tastes like tar." You wheezed making him laugh. He handed you a bottle of water and you took it. "So did you two talk?" A student asked. "Yes, Madi he's aware of what I said." You said with an eye roll. Draco shook his head, walking towards the door. "No I mean about what he said about you." She said. You looked up with a brow raised. "What?" You asked. "Uhhh..." Draco didn't move, why wouldn't he move. "He said he regretted not telling you something in your forth year." The student said. "Oh?" You asked noticing the nervous look on Draco's face. Arthur leaned off of his hand, perking up like a dog. The students were all hushed. "Draco, care to comment?" You asked. He took his hand off the handle and turned back. "I'm not saying this in front of your students." He declared. "Saying what Draco?" You asked. "Nice try." He said with an eye roll. "You're dancing around the subject." You said stepping towards him. "Maybe I am." He admitted. "Maybe? Sorry do you need tap shoes for the way you're dancing right now?" You asked. He sighed. "What are they talking about?" You asked again, still walking towards him. "It's nothing." He lied. "Draco if it were nothing you would've told me by now." You said. The students were all watching intently. "What are they talking about?" You asked, looking straight into his eyes and he cracked. "That I've been in love with you since our fourth year and I haven't said anything because I didn't know if you felt the same." He said. You blinked and the room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. ".... Draco..." You said, standing so close to him that he could feel your breath. "I never said anything because I didn't know if you felt the same way either." You admitted making everyone almost gasp. He looked into your eyes, cupping your face and kissing you making the entire class cheer. "IT'S ABOUT TIME!" Arthur yelled. You both smiled against each other's lips. "We're never hearing the end of this are we?" Draco asked. "Hell no." You said making him laugh and kiss you again.

You were the talk of everyone's morning for a while and that spark definitely turned into a flame after you two got engaged. Best part: it happened during class. Draco would sit in the back of your classroom watching you teach, occasionally answering kid's questions about what their parents were like in school. He was sitting there watching you and you were laughing at someone's joke. "You two seem so in love." A student said. "We are." You both said, smiles as you answered. "Thanks to us!" Arthur said. "Yes, you and your wonderful 'eye shagging' comments just made me fall head over heels." You snorted. Draco laughed and you smiled. "Have you two thought about getting married?" Bill asked. You both froze during that question. "miss Y/n?" A student said. "Well that's uhm..." You turned back to the bored. "Have you?" Draco asked, noticing the avoidance to the question. "Everyone woman thinks about that when she's in love Draco." You concluded. "So you have?" He asked. "Yes. Have you?" You asked. He got up, walking up to you and setting something in your hand. "I don't know. Have I?" He asked. You looked at your hand to see a ring resting there and you gasped very loudly. "Oh my God Draco." You said. "Will you?" He asked. "Well you have to ask me properly!" You said, tears clouding your eyes. He chuckled, taking the ring and getting down on one knee making the students gasp. "Professor Y/n L/n. Will you marry me?" He asked. You nodded and kissed him making the entire class basically scream.

The two of you did get married, Bill and Arthur taking the credit for the two of you being together in the first place. That came back to bite them though when Fred ended up being the substitute teacher for when you went off on your honeymoon, Fred busting out baby pictures when he'd misbehave. "DAD NO--" "And here's him in his first Weasley sweater!" "DAD!"

[riverdale-retread]

Hermione Lodge’s Dark Dark Marriage 

(Shout out to @ilsalandy who’s been consistent in their interest in Hermione Lodge in particular) 

There is a strange silence surrounding Hermione and Hiram’s marriage.  Hiram is not a man who punches women.  But he does hire a gunman to shoot at his wife.  He engineers a legal case to make sure his wife serves time in prison.  He threatens his wife constantly, in word and by physical intimidation.  She is terrified of him, and explicitly says she’s afraid he’s going to harm or murder their child.  

Hermione has very fraught dialogue with this husband, such as:

Him:  You’ll be my wife again.  Her: Over my dead body.  

which can really be read either way - as dark sexuality or active domestic abuse.

From the time Hermione gets out of prison and tries to restart life in S4E6 and through S5 E2 (which is truthfully S4 E21), Hermione diminishes and hides herself to the point of being an extra in the scenes which take place in her own house.  Hiram parading around whoever Hermosa may truly be (his real daughter, an actress he’s hired, his mistress - many theories are possible) and Veronica showing that she is much more a daughter of Hiram than a daughter of Hermione are developments you might expect Hermione to say something about but she does not.  When Hiram starts to come home bloody from engaging in his fetish for street violence, Hermione is absolutely invisible.

In the last time she speaks before the time jump, when it is blatantly clear that the coast is clear, that Hiram is not going to kill her child and may in fact be subdued, Hermione suddenly announces that the only reason she remarried Hiram and stayed with him this entire time was to protect Veronica.  This is half a truth.  She also protected herself, by associating herself with Veronica, as Veronica’s mother.  She’s already told Veronica that Hiram was less likely to kill an offspring than a spouse.  And what suffering that must have been, to maintain this sham marriage to save her own life, to endure in silence all these indignities and terrors.

The silence around the domestic abuse marriage that Hermione endures is I think an oversight that the show had, but it’s one of those things that is disturbingly true to life.

[duhragonball]

Hi! I wanna preface this by saying this isn’t a request for a liveblog, but just a recommendation for some light reading. There’s a comedy-action series currently running called Mashle: Magic and Muscles. It’s basically just taking the piss out of Harry Potter (mocking the house system, blatantly unfair classes, and just general story structure) in a sort of ‘One Punch Man’ way. It’s a lot of fun and doesn’t take long to get through at all.

I may check that out some time, but from my point of view, taking the piss out of Harry Potter is like shooting fish in a barrel. I shot the hell out of that barrel years ago, and I'm not sure there's much more appeal to be had in seeing it done again. Mashle is probably really good, but I'd probably have enjoyed it more in 2010 than in 2021.

Part of what sucked the wind out of my sails was when JKR went full-transphobe a few years ago, and it started to realize that all the pathetic asshole characters she wrote were a reflection of her own character. Snape was ultimately on the good guys' side, but he still betrayed Lupin just to be a colossal dick. Umbridge was more concerned about sorting her doilies and imposing order on others than in any sort of compassion or moral ideology. Gilderoy Lockhart was a narcissist social climber, desperate to hijack any conversation and make it about himself.

Fans want to compare JKR to Hermione, mostly for lack of any prominent female characters, but Hermione's no saint either. She spent all of Book 3 using time travel to take all of her classes, but she still talked shit about Trelawny for daring to suggest that a person could magically see into the future. Never mind that Trelawny had actually done it before, and got tenure teaching it as a recognized subject. I'm not saying Trelawny was good at her job, but you've got some girl saying "Um, actually, I think I know a little bit more about your life experiences than you do, so I'm going to do everything in my power to discredit you."

Sound familiar?

I'm sorry for going off on a tangent here. You're just recommending some manga to me, and I appreciate it, but I've had this on my mind for a while. Here's the thing I can't get out of my head: Nick Gage robbed a bank.

Let me explain. Nick Gage is a professional wrestler, specializing in "deathmatch" wrestling, where weapons are legal. One time he was pronounced legally dead during a match, because there was broken glass everywhere and he got hurt and I'm not sure I know or want to know the full story. But he got better and he's still alive today. Somewhere in between, he had some hard times and ended up robbing a bank and going to prison for five years.

But Gage is a folk hero, and I admire the man, in part because he appreciates his fans for supporting him. All of his fans, including the LBGTQ+ ones. On July 7, 2020, he cut this awesome promo declaring that trans rights are human rights. He's not sitting on a golden throne, spewing a bunch of bullshit pseudo-biology to millions of followers. He's just speaking from the heart. I think this was one of those deals where you pay someone to do a video greeting, but he went on to add that he would have said this for free, because he believes it. Here's another video where he explains why this is so important to him.

Rowling, and a lot of her characters, they always seem to "punch down", taking shots at people in worse circumstances than themselves. Nick Gage doesn't do that, probably because he's been about as down as it gets, and he knows what that's like. He knows other people have it tough and he has enough empathy to respect what other people are going through. I heard JKR was an unemployed single mother once, but it's hard to tell if she remembers any of that.

This is why I get a little nervous when I hear people talk about things being "wholesome" or "family friendly" or whatever. Because what they usually mean is that they want things to be sanitized, uncomplicated and unchallenging. I never liked the way people put Harry Potter on a pedestal of literature, perfect for young children and college classrooms alike. It carries this broad appeal, and I fear that's because it doesn't really have anything to say, no bold demand that would upset anyone. I mean, there's an implied message about the evils of classism, but Rowling doesn't seem to believe it if she's willing to turn against some of her most vulnerable fans for TERF clout.

Then they made some Harry Potter video game for PS5 or whatever, and all these fans are like "Gosh, I'd like to stop giving this hateful woman more money, but I'm afraid I simply cannot help but answer the call to Diagon Alley once more." It's gutless. You've got generations of people reading these books and the books aren't even that good, and nobody learns anything from them except how to spend more money on this shit. Nick Gage wrestles in broken glass for a living and he gets it, so why can't anyone else?

I'm sorry, I sort of hulked out there for a bit. I guess what I'm trying to say is that Mashle is probably a lot of fun, but it probably doesn't operate on this level, where all the characters are jerks and society is worse off for their introduction into Western Canon. But I might still check it out sometime.

[ourloveisforthelovely]

In Love and Death Part 10

Harry Potter AU

Link to Part 9 

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader 

Rating: M 

_____

Dinner that night was a silent affair. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were having a hard time looking in your or Regulus’ direction. Hermione was afraid that Harry was going to lose his temper and go after the boy across the table. She had a feeling that if Regulus and Harry were to start throwing hands over you, it wouldn’t go well for either party. All that Hermione could do was sit and quietly remind Harry that Regulus knew a lot more dark magic and probably wouldn't be afraid to use it.

“How am I supposed to feel Hermione? They are practically shoving their relationship down my throat. She is clueless about how I feel and Regulus thinks it is funny.”

This had been Harry’s latest comment to his best friend. Hermione tried to remind Harry that Regulus was your first boyfriend so this was bound to be different. Harry was expecting Regulus to be prudish (according to Sirius his whole family was prudes) but what Harry was seeing was the opposite of prudish.

Your eyes flickered up to meet Harry’s. He gave you a frown before looking down at the casserole that Molly had fixed for dinner. You internally shrugged at Harry’s behavior. He was, in your mind, being silly. There was no way that something between Harry and yourself would work. You couldn’t imagine dating one of your good friends.

“How do you know that I won’t sneak off?”

Evan’s voice pulled you from your thoughts as Moody hauled him into the dining room for dinner. You felt the annoyance returning to the pit of your stomach. Evan had been at Grimmauld for a day and neither of you had made a move to talk to the other. After your less than stellar conversation from the previous afternoon, you wanted nothing to do with him (or so you let on). You were hurt by his comments but didn’t want anyone to know. Regulus and Moody knowing were enough for you.

You were already sick of the look of worry in Regulus’ eyes when Evan was near you and the look of sympathy that you were receiving from Moody.

“You won’t be going anywhere.”

You replied, sitting your fork down. Evan’s blue eyes turned to you. He was as annoyed as you were at the conversation quickly going down hill. In Evan’s mind, he did what was best for you and wouldn’t be swayed any other way. You did just fine without him growing up and had no reason to be so damn bitter.

“But how do you know?”

He questioned. You turned your attention to Regulus as if silently asking for him to deal with your father. At the moment, you just didn’t have the strength or desire. Regulus didn’t even need to be asked. His grey eyes locked on his “former” best friend.

“When I knocked you out, Y/n got some of your blood for a blood spell. You won’t be going anywhere that she doesn’t want you to. Long story short, you’re on a leash.”

Sirius and Remus exchanged worried glances. Since Regulus had come into the future, they noticed you messing a little bit more in dark magic as the days wore on. Evan blinked before smiling slyly.

“That’s some dark magic, sugar.”

“Don’t call her that.”

Regulus snapped. Now he couldn’t call you “sugar.” Evan just ruined that for him. You scoffed under your breath.

“Yeah, you should see what else I can do. Supernatural gives me good ideas.”

Moody took his turn. He was still hell-bent on making sure that Regulus, Evan, and yourself didn’t make some fucked up team and start trying to “take over the world.” As long as Moody was alive, he would make sure that you wouldn’t go dark.

“That’s enough, you two.”

Evan focused his attention back on Moody. His cold grin became, if possible, colder. The “proud parent” expression on his face was undeniable.

“It bugs you, doesn’t it? The little girl that makes such a great auror is capable of doing dark magic. Luckily for you lot, she can get away with it being part of the job. If I did it, I would be in prison.”

Your eyes focused on Evan’s smug face. The last thing that you were going to do was to be anything like the man in front of you. You becoming an auror already proved that you weren't anything like your father. Regulus wrapped his hand around yours. His eyes hadn’t left Evan’s face. If looks could kill, Evan would be dead again.

“Stop looking at her”

Evan grinned again as if daring Regulus to do something.

“I can do what I want”

Before you were able to say something Regulus was out of his chair and had knocked Evan on his back. Evan’s blue eyes were focused on Regulus’ wand that was pointed right at his chest.

“Reggie, stop.”

You hissed but Regulus ignored you. He was trying everything he could to stop himself from killing Evan on the spot. It would be too easy but there were too many witnesses.

Evan, meanwhile, appeared surprised but wouldn’t give away any flickers of fear.

“Go ahead. Says crucio as you want. We both know that you can do it.”

Sirius stood up this time when you gave him a pleading expression.

“Regulus, enough.”

He said his voice firm. Regulus put his wand away but didn’t move to help Evan up. The fool could lay there in the floor with his feet in the air for all Regulus cared. Evan stood up and dusted his black clothing off.

“That was scary.”

Regulus took a breath before spinning around and punching Evan in the nose. Evan’s hands were instantly on his face as you stood up.

“Okay, happy family time is over. Regulus, now.”

Regulus turned and followed you out of the room. He ignored all the sets of eyes until the dining room door swung shut behind him.

Stepping into the living room, Regulus expected you to be angry with him. Instead, you looked thrilled.

“Was punching him as glorious as it looked?”

Regulus shook his left hand trying to ignore the throbbing going through his now bleeding knuckles.

“It felt pretty good.”

You clasped your hands together as Sirius and Remus stepped out of the room with matching smirks.

“I’ve been dreaming of laying into that punk from the moment that he walked in the door and you beat me to it.”

You giggled before taking Regulus’ hand into yours. Taking out your wand, you healed his hand. Regulus, didn’t look as thrilled with his actions as you did.

“Are you two good?”

Sirius questioned. Regulus didn’t look at his brother before nodding.

“Fine.”

“Come on, let's go get some air. Y/n, you may want to fix Evan’s face. He’s bleeding everywhere.”

Sirius added before motioning Regulus to come with him. Regulus shook his head.

“I’m not leaving her alone with him.”

“I’ll be there.”

Remus added. Regulus didn’t like the idea but Sirius was right. He did need to get some air before he went off on some innocent person that didn’t deserve is wrath.

“Fine, I’ll be back.”

You waited until the front door was closed before turning and following Remus back into the dining room that was now empty. Evan sat in a chair with several napkins shoved up his very swollen and obviously broken nose. It took all you had to not laugh at his state. If Evan wanted to appear “tough” this was a very damning way “not to do it.”

“We might as well fix your nose. You look ridiculous.”

You commented. Evan looked up, rolling his eyes.

“My nose is just fine.”

Stubborn man...you thought. It was no wonder that your poor mother went crazy or your grandmother was a nut. Your grandmother dealt with your deceased grandfather who was extremely stubborn and stuck in his own ways and your mother had your father (who now you were looking after). Their mental states were no longer any subject to questioning on your behalf.

“Fine, sit there and stew in your own juices.”

You replied, putting your wand away. Evan, wincing from the pain still going through his face, realized that the napkins were filling with blood and he had no other means to stop the bleeding.

“Okay, go ahead. I know this is going to hurt.”

You shrugged.

“Play stupid games and you’ll win stupid prizes.”

Evan smirked.

“He’s got a nasty temper...that man of yours. It's always benefited him well for the dark lord.”

You had to let the comment about Regulus roll off of your back. Evan wanted you to get upset...you knew this.

“You know I could be a dark witch very easily. Trust me I have had the opportunities and have had the thoughts. I wouldn’t worry about Regulus black if I were you.”

Evan’s eyes narrowed a bit more.

“It runs in the family.”

You tentatively reached out and touched his nose. Evan hissed when you pinched him.

“Too bad that I like breaking chains of behavior.”

You said with a smirk then said “episkey.” Evan groaned as his nose instantly healed. He put his hands over his face brushing away tears of pain.

“You never said what your mother did to you. I get the abuse part…”

“That’s enough.”

Remus came in with a very stern voice. You met his gaze with a grateful expression before turning back to Evan.

“That’s what you need to know. Abuse should be enough. I don’t have to worry about that now. She’s dead and gone...I guess I should thank you for that but I’m not. I don’t owe you anything.”

You did well avoiding Evan over the next couple of days. To your delight, you were called into work several days in a row which kept you away from the house. The more you stayed away from Evan, the better off you would be.

The only negative was you were spending more and more time away from Regulus. Both of you had been so busy that there were several days the two of you were so exhausted penciling in a kiss was difficult.

Regulus, meanwhile, had been on a job with Moody to attempt to take down some death eater. It had been a week since he had actually seen you in person. Phone calls and texts weren’t the same as seeing the face that he was in love with.

“I dare someone to bother the two of us over the next few days. I will hex the fuck out of whoever dares to knock on my door.”

Regulus muttered to himself as he stepped back inside Grimmauld Place. He was automatically greeted by the sound of Teddy screaming. Walking inside the living room, Regulus stopped seeing Sirius wandering around the room with the crying baby in his arms.

“What’s going on around here?”

Regulus asked as his clearly frazzled brother turned to face him. Evan, meanwhile, was sitting on the couch with a grin on his face.

“Did you come to watch the show? Your brother is about to unravel a jumper over this baby crying?”

Regulus scowled at Evan.

“I suppose that you couldn’t get off of your ass and help.”

Evan shook his head.

“Nope. I don’t live here. I’m trapped here. I never agreed to look after someone’s offspring.”

Regulus shrugged. He didn’t feel like dealing with Evan at the moment but this was a great time to throw some sarcasm his way.

“Well, you can’t look after your own so I shouldn’t be surprised.”

Regulus fought back a laugh as Evan’s smug smile faded and was replaced with an almost hurt expression. Turning his attention back to Sirius, Regulus frowned.

“Where are the kid’s parents?”

Sirius sighed.

“They went to get take-out. Does this baby look sick to you? I think his color is off.”

Regulus crossed his arms over his chest. What did Sirius honestly expect him to do? Regulus knew nothing about babies. He was, for the most part, avoiding Teddy because it reminded him of what he wouldn’t be able to have with you.

“What color was he earlier?”

Sirius stomped his foot impatient.

“That isn’t funny, Regulus.”

Regulus held his hands up.

“What the fuck do I look like? A fairy godmother or pediatrician?”

Sirius stepped forward with Teddy screaming even more. Regulus winced.

“This is a bad time for you to be a smartass! Does he feel warm to you? I think he might have a fever. Maybe we should take him to the hospital or something.”

Evan, from his place in the corner, laughed.

“Yeah, take him to the hospital over a fever.”

Regulus’ cold face was back on him.

“Look, if you don’t have something useful to say then shut up.”

Regulus reached out and put his hand on Teddy’s forehead before touching Sirius’ forehead then his own.

“I think he feels fine. You are probably stressing him out. Hell, you’re stressing me out.”

“What is going on?”

Both Regulus and Sirius turned to see you standing in the doorway. You had come home, wanting nothing more than to have a hot bath. Now it looked liek that wasn’t going to happen.

Sirius turned almost ready to beg you for help.

“I don’t know. He won’t stop crying. Nothing I do will help and your boyfriend is being mean.”

“I didn’t do anything to you!”

Regulus snapped. You had to fight the urge to laugh.

“Okay, Sirius let me have the baby.”

You crossed the room and gently took Teddy in your arms. After a few moments of quiet cuddling and smooth-talking, the little boy was content in your arms.

“I have been doing that for hours!”

Sirius said a little more over dramatically than necessary. Regulus rolled his eyes.

“Sirius, go take a nap or drink a juice box or something.”

You, meanwhile, were happy with cuddling Teddy. Maybe it was for the best that you didn’t have kids. Something told you that if Regulus and yourself had a baby this would be what you would come home to on the regular.

“Sheesh, all you all have to do is talk in a nice calm voice and look at that he stopped crying. I don’t know where the hell I have developed this skill from but babies smell fear. Look at these big blue eyes...I want one.”

The comment left your mouth before you had time to process your thoughts. Sirius and Regulus automatically had matching looks of pain on their faces. You blinked a few times, feeling automatically guilty. Regulus turned and walked from the room without another word.

Sirius held his arms out again.

“I’ll take the kid. You go deal with him.”

You followed Regulus out to the back garden. He stood with a cigarette in one hand while staring out into the darkness.

“Reggie, I didn’t think.”

He turned to you with a frown.

“I’m not mad at you...just the situation. You would be such a wonderful mum...so much better than what Sirius and I had. It's not fair that you...we don’t get a chance.”

Regulus didn’t care how much you denied it. You had grown so much since Teddy was born...maternally that is. No longer, did you quickly pass Teddy back to Tonks or Remus if he started crying. Now you cuddled the baby and knew exactly what to do to make the child happy.

There was also the honest truth about you being a much better mother than Walburga. Anyone would be a better mother than her! Regulus’ mind went back to a conversation that he overheard you have with Sirius a few weeks before…

“So you mean to tell me that you wouldn’t care what house your child was placed in at Hogwarts? I figured with Regulus and yourself both being Slytherins, you would want that.”

You looked up from the magazine that you were reading.

“It doesn’t matter. Every child is different and it shouldn’t matter what house a kid is put in. Just because mummy and daddy are in one house doesn’t mean that a child deserves to be treated or ostracized for being in another one...like yourself, for example, you didn’t deserve the hell that you were put through. If Regulus and I ever had a child that was put into Gryffindor that would be just fine. You’re a Gryffindor and I haven’t killed you yet so I think I could deal with my child being one. Every child has special traits and those traits should be valued...even if it is different from what your family considers appealing.”

You, meanwhile, wrapped your arms around Regulus from behind and pulled him from his thoughts. Smuggling your face against his back, you took a moment to speak.

“I can see that healer that Tonks told me about. I know it's something that you want...even though you deny it.”

Regulus didn’t respond for a few moments.

“And if it doesn’t work?”

You didn’t move your face from your previous position.

“At least we tried? I know it's reckless to be thinking about that during these times but…”

Regulus turned. He wrapped his arms around you and rested his chin on the top of your head.

“Y/n, since when do we care about what people think? We wouldn't be together if we did.”

You nodded in agreement. Regulus was right there. The two of you would have broken up ages ago had others had their way.

“I’ll call the healer in the morning.”

_____

@amelie-black

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@truly-insatiable

[halothenthehorns]

TLTNL- THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX

It didn't entirely come to their expectations, as they'd been expecting a rant about his mother, but instead he snarled in frustration and got to his feet, pacing and muttering angrily, "woman just can't leave me in peace! Even in death she'll find a way to drive me mad, or more mad as I'm still convinced that's what I'd have to be to go back in there for some stupid meeting that Snape's a part of."

"I think we should leave and get some lunch," James sighed as he gazed down at the book. They'd only been at this for a few hours, but really, they'd just been dealing with so many things back to back already a break felt needed.

Sirius stomped wordlessly to the kitchen still muttering obscenities.

They ate their meal in some resemblance of peace but Sirius still refused to leave his plate, scraping it clean and then still scraping his fork against it. Remus hadn't actually meant to whisper, "Sirius, you didn't really mean that right? You know that place didn't-" he broke off as he couldn't think of how to phrase what Azkaban had done to him.

  "I'm not acting right," he muttered to his plate alone. "I know I'm not, I don't need to see you two acting so off when I'm mentioned to notice it myself. Haven't gone after Harry, haven't done a damned thing really, now I'm actually back at that place, been there since Harry got there it seems, and I don't come up to see him until I hear that woman shouting." He sighed and shook his head, letting his hair fall into his face.

"You've clearly got a lot on your mind," James tried his very best to put something light into this. "A new feeling for you I'm sure."

Sirius did not rise to the bait, but he didn't seem to want to linger on this in front of them either as he pushed away from the table and wouldn't look at anyone as he went back to the room.

On the way there Lily managed to step in the shards of the vase James had broken earlier. She quickly banished the mess without remorse, that was just one step of ridding Petunia from her life.

James sat unhappily in his seat as he watched Lily sit back down beside him cuddling their child, his mind still on Sirius as he began flipping to his chapter and wishing he had more to comfort his best friend with, but so long as the topic was going to be over that house he didn't see how that was possible.

Harry was stunned at the news while Sirius elaborated that his dear old mother had put up a Permanent Sticking Charm on these so that they couldn't take them down.

"Spiteful old hag," Sirius spat, "can't get away from that even in her death."

"Well maybe you shouldn't have given her the idea," James still tried to play this off as a joke, "she did give you absolute hell when you put all that stuff up in your room."

Sirius still refused to react past grumbling.

Then he quickly tried to usher them all down the stairs before anything woke up again.

"I don't understand why you don't just put something in the way, put a door in front of curtains or something if keeping her face covered keeps her silent." Harry asked.

"I've got one better, just blow the whole wall up and be done with it," Remus added on.

"Oh how I wish I still had Moony's wisdom at a time like that," Sirius sighed theatrically before explaining to Harry what Remus knew full well, "the permanent sticking charm keeping her to that wall means that you'd have to rip down that whole house to get that thing gone, the charm is now in the very fabric of the building and no amount of blasting walls will get it off unless the whole frame goes with it, that's some powerful magic to get rid of anything, and not going to be used on something as precious as headquarters right now." His face puckered with disappointment as Lily explained the more reasonable half.

"As for putting something more solid to keep that woman blocked, I'm afraid that magic can't just have a wall put in front of it and there won't be consequences. So long as it's enchanted to react to noise and start screaming, if you try to cover that up, the person who did so will suffer terribly for it. It comes with its own countercurse that if you block it in any way from acting like it should, you're cursed. The curtains are enough that it can still activate, while ah, well at least you won't have to see the stupid thing."

Harry just sighed and grumbled about complex magic.

Harry asked what a thing like that was doing here?

"Striving to torture me till the end of my days," Sirius huffed.

Sirius was surprised no one had told Harry this was his parents place. He'd offered it to Dumbledore as Headquarters, about the only useful thing he'd done of late.

James felt his heart sink as he could feel the weight of that even if he hadn't seen his best friend in person.

Lily beat him to the punch by sympathizing, "I'm sure you're just exaggerating like always Sirius, just because he's got you doing things you don't want to be doing."

Sirius wasn't so sure, he still couldn't help a worm of agitation going through his brain of how he'd been acting. He'd been acting more normal last year with the Tournament going on, this just didn't feel right to him.

Harry, who had expected a better welcome, noted how hard and bitter Sirius's voice sounded.

They all gave a hard twitch at that, though they hadn't really been pretending before, you couldn't deny anymore something bad was going on with their Padfoot.

Remus tried to force some hope into his voice, "I'm positive he's just in a mood because he's in that house for a while, once he and Harry step back out he'll lighten up at once."

Sirius took a deep breath and tried to take Moony's words to heart, but he also couldn't pretend Harry's frown deepened at the words.

He followed his godfather into the kitchen which was hardly less creepy than the place above. A long dark room lit only by the fireplace at the end that had a stew pot dangling above it, and more kitchen cooking things on the ceiling.

Sirius still couldn't stop a nasty little shiver for the reminder of that place, where so many of his mother's precious 'lessons' about everything he hated had taken place.

A haze of smoke left the whole place with a foreboding feeling as they all took seats around what appeared to be a pile of rags. Mr. Weasley and Bill were still at the table as well talking in low voices, but Bill quickly caught sight of their entry and called out a greeting to Harry, asking if Mad-Eye had gotten him here by Greenland?

"What a shame he didn't, I heard the scenery is lovely," James rolled his eyes.

Tonks said that he tried,

Lily snorted softly as she could honestly imagine that.

while coming forward and accidentally knocking a candle onto a piece of parchment.

"When she said she was clumsy, she really meant it," Remus chuckled softly.

"Did you really think she was kidding?" Harry laughed lightly back.

"Some people exaggerate it," Remus half heartedly persisted, trying to press into any mundane point with Sirius still looking so tight over continued mentionings of this place. "Just because you drop or break something once in awhile, I've been known to be clumsy as well. This however, is clinically clumsy."

Finally causing the others to start a light giggle as well.

Tonks began apologizing at once as Mrs. Weasley swooped in to save the paper, and in the instant flash of light Harry recognized what he thought were building plans.*

"Just what are they looking into?" Lily asked of no one with exasperation.

"Couldn't tell you," James pouted.

Harry was sad to note he didn't even have a gut feeling about this, it was probably something of the Order he was never told.

Mrs. Weasley caught him looking and quickly snatched the paper away to go into Bill's already stuffed arms full of other similar things.

"That woman's just no fun," Sirius sighed tragically, trying to force himself to remain off his own mother for a time and focus on this overbearing one.

She snapped of no one that these things should all be put up right at the end of meetings.

"Or, you know, don't bother hiding stuff inside the Order and just let them know anyways," James grumbled.

Bill didn't argue the point as he got his wand out and vanished the lot with Evanesce.

"Where do they go?" Harry asked in surprise.

"Wherever Bill wants them to," Remus shrugged, "they've probably got some special place they keep all those documents that only Order members can summon them from."

Sirius told Harry to come have a seat next to him, and then reintroduced Mundungus.

They all felt a sharp spike of agitation at the mention of him.

The thing Harry had taken to be a pile of rags gave a prolonged, grunting snore, then jerked awake.

"I can not believe you of all people were sitting next to him," James balked, staring down at the page. Sirius looked just as confused at his setting mate, but then they were all surprised at Harry's sudden burst of laughter.

"What's so funny then?" Remus prompted as Harry rubbed gently at his temple, his eyes shining with mirth.

"Oh, I just remember all of a sudden Ron telling me about how Sirius reacted when Dung came over. It was just Sirius, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and Bill there at the time when he showed up. Apparently he came stumbling into the house, saying 'Dementors attacked, Figgs going to kill me, where's Dumbledore?' Mr. Weasley apparently flipped out at once, ran down into the kitchen and sent an owl off to me, and disapparated before Dung had really gotten all the words out."

He paused there and turned those same amused eyes on Sirius and continued, "Want to know what you did? According to Ron and Hermione you made him repeat it, and then you started strangling him."

Sirius cocked his head to the side, then nodded like this made perfect sense to him. The others couldn't help but give grim smiles as well, it felt rather appropriate to the way they were feeling. Harry finished off by saying, "It took Bill pulling you off to get you to stop, but from then on Ron said that you tended to dog Dung wherever he went, and he'd flinch every time you like scratched your nose or something."

James was still chuckling mercilessly at the imagery as he went back to the pages.

He turned hung eyes on everyone questioningly, before saying he voted with Sirius.

"Bet you anything that wanker agreed with me just for some brownie points," Sirius sniffed in disdain, hardly mollified to find out he'd attempted to strangle someone who had been supposed to be looking after his Godson.

Sirius told him the meeting was over, and Harry was here now.

Mundungus had to struggle to focus on him while asking if he was doing alright?

"No thanks to you," Lily still couldn't help but snip.

His fumbling fingers began going through his robes until he came out with a pipe, which he quickly lit causing a nasty smell to linger in the already hazy place, then he added on he owed Harry an apology.

"The least of which," James sniffed.

Molly cut off anything else as she snapped at him not to light that in the kitchen!

"I can't believe he had the nerve to do something that agitates her, right in front of her," Remus raised a brow as he still knew how ticked Lily was at him for the moment, surely Molly was just as bad if not worse as she probably approved of Harry being followed.

Mundungus quickly agreed and pocketed it, but the smell of burning socks still lingered.

"Pleasant," Lily crinkled up her nose.

Then she snapped of the room at large if they wanted dinner any time soon she needed some help, before turning on Harry and saying he was excluded as he'd had a long day.

"I'd have rather been next to the stove," Harry muttered to himself, his rage had made him forget about his cold upon arrival, but he still hadn't fully regained feeling in all his fingers from that flight.

Tonks bounded forward at once to offer her services to a clearly apprehensive Molly.

"I'm supposing Tonks has knocked over one to many stews," Remus smirked.

She tried to tell her as well she'd done enough, but Tonks waved her off and said she wanted to help while going to help Ginny get some cutlery out.

"I'm sensing that's the wrong place for her to be," James rolled his eyes, "more likely she should be set to some potatoes, least she can break those all she likes."

Soon the whole kitchen was busy with something, leaving Harry, Sirius, and Mundungus at the table.

Sirius still felt a flaring agitation rising in him, still pestered over this reunion.

Mundungus asked Harry if he'd seen Mrs. Figg lately, and Harry tartly replied he hadn't seen anyone. Mundungus spoke like Harry hadn't, saying he hadn't meant to leave his post, but there had been a really good business deal-

"Sirius dear, I need you to do me a favor and start strangling him again," Lily said almost pleasantly.

"I'm positive I'll be all too happy to," Sirius almost managed a cheerful look back at the thought.

Harry felt something brush against his knee as he stopped listening to him and glanced down to see Crookshanks. He twined once around Harry's legs before hopping into Sirius' lap, who began absentmindedly scratching him.

"I've missed hearing about that cat," Remus gave a light snicker. 

James just suppressed a smile as he imagined Harry looking down at exactly the wrong time. Mundungus bringing that up, and Sirius glaring at him would have been a precious thing described. Sadly the subject got changed in the next sentence before he got to hear of any such thing.

Sirius asked how Harry's summer had been?

Then Sirius flinched again, harder, as he'd already had to realize how dumb that question was, yet he couldn't have bothered to find out any point before now? What exactly had he been so busy doing to not have done so?

Harry just grumbled how lousy it had been, making a grin flit across Sirius' face.

"So glad you find that funny," Harry happily poked fun, while the others all listened curiously to see just what about that had made Sirius act even a smidge more normal at laughing at anything.

Sirius told Harry he had nothing to be complaining about, he'd welcome a dementor attack.

James could not read that without a nasty catch in his throat, hoping beyond everything his best friend was kidding about that part, as Sirius still flinched at the thought of what those foul demons were going to be doing to his future. Sirius making light of this was entirely his Padfoot though, so he read on with more enthusiasm than he would have thought.

A deadly struggle for his soul would have broken the monotony nicely.

"Sirius," Lily began dangerously, clearly saying she'd switch that threat of violence to him in a heartbeat if she heard of anymore fool headed moves on his part.

At least Harry had been allowed out of the house, he'd been stuck in here for a month.

"I, what?" Sirius demanded, feeling like his heart had just dropped down into his stomach. This couldn't really mean what he was thinking...

Harry asked why, and Sirius explained that the Ministry was still after him, and Voldemort knew all about his Animagus disguise.

"But, all of that was true last year too, and you were getting around just fine!" Remus snapped, trying to pretend he hadn't watched James go the worst shade of red at having to be reminded who their friend was sharing all of their secrets with.

So there wasn't much use he could do for the Order, so Dumbledore seemed to feel.

There was a deadly moment of silence where everyone just sat there for a moment and gaped at what Sirius had just implied he'd been up to. No, he hadn't really-

Sirius' temper snapped. The shouting they'd all been expecting before to come up when faced with his mother finally seemed to have tantamount as past memories blocked out everything and he began shouting, "I can't decide who I hate worse right now, the rat for my name still being smeared, or Dumbledore! HE PUT ME IN WHERE!?"

His voice may have ruptured to stop him from continuing, that or he actually realized the baby was crying fiercely now, either way he forced himself to stop that and instead got to his feet and began stamping more than pacing across the room in frustration.

"Sirius-" Someone tried to say, but he didn't even take note of it as he kept going in a forced lesser volume, "it's damn near as bad as if I'd been locked into Azkaban all over again, there's no way I'm actually-" he cut himself off that time though, because in some nasty twisted way it did explain his behavior so far. If Dumbledore had actually convinced him to stay in that house for his safety, than he would be in the worst mood of his life the whole time there, it's no wonder Harry's problems were falling to his wayside, he had trouble thinking of anything else now when he wasn't in that place, but trapped back in those dank walls and he'd be a bottomless pit of self pity.

"Listen Padfoot," James insisted over his still fussy child, who was now making more noise than Sirius, but Lily refused to leave the room this time as she kept soothing him patiently and keeping an eye on Sirius. "Dumbledore's insane for thinking that's what you should do, and Merlin it's a twist of irony you've actually seemed to listen to him in doing it, but I think you're forgetting something really important."

"What?" He barked like a snapping animal.

"It's not happening to you now. You never have to go back there again if you don't want to. Deep breaths Pads, I promise Dumbledore will rue the day he decided to do this to you."

"Rue?" Remus asked more to change the subject than anything. "Look at you using big kid words."

James theatrically pouted at him, while Sirius sighed but at least stopped shouting for now, and so had the baby. James still kept watching Sirius carefully as he went grumpily back to his seat, but when it became clear he was the holdup Sirius just waved him on, though now he looked more likely than Lily to be strangling a certain someone soon, and it wasn't Mundungus anymore.

The tight way Sirius said Harry's headmaster's name made it very clear Sirius had just as many bad thoughts about Dumbledore as Harry lately, and he felt a sudden upsurge of affection for his godfather.

"Mutual hatred of someone will do wonders to bring two people closer together," James gave an awkward smile in agreement, his thoughts on Snape and how for so many years four people had spent their lives hating his every step. Now one of them was on the same side as him.

He still tried to encourage at least Sirius was in the know, but Sirius corrected that sitting around listening to Snape's reports

"That is actual torture," Remus declared.

"I'll be lucky if I don't go mad and murder everyone in the room next time," Sirius agreed.

and all his snide comments was hardly riveting news, especially as he kept making cracks about Sirius lazing on his backside, asking about the cleaning.

Harry wondered if Sirius had known at the time he sounded exactly like his father did upon reading that, then he felt his spirits sink that much lower as Harry kept realizing that with every minute he valued getting to watch James do anything, his Sirius probably missed his brother double.

Harry asked what that meant, and Sirius explained they were trying to make this place fit for human habitation again, it had been abandoned for ten years,

"Ten years eh?" Sirius muttered absently, trying to draw the timeframe in his head, but since he honestly had no clue of who died first, his parents or Regulus, it still wasn't helping anything.

and some nasty stuff had taken to breeding in here.

Mundungus, who hadn't been listening to a word, suddenly cut in towards Sirius that the goblet he was holding was solid silver.

Harry felt a sudden flash of violence overtake him, some memory trying to bubble right to the surface of his strangling Mundungus-

"I can see what his attention was just so riveted on," Lily snarked.

"Trust Mundungus to try filching something from that house," Sirius said with an actual touch of indulgence though, he'd help loot the place for the man even while holding some burning violence for him.

Sirius disdainfully agreed it was a fine piece of fifteenth century goblin-wrought silver with the Black crest and everything.

Mundungus muttered to himself that bit would come off though.

"Why would he want it to?" Remus asked in honest confusion. "Wouldn't it be worth more with that crest in place, proving its pureblood usage."

"Depends on what Dung's using it for I guess," Sirius shrugged without care.

They were all interrupted by Molly's shriek at the twins just to carry it!

James could already feel a touch of indulgence replacing his lackluster mood at Sirius' future problems, the twins always had made him feel better though and this sounded like something right out of his late teen years.

The three at the table only just managed to look up in time, and jump away from the table.

The twins had tried to enchant a cauldron of soup, a flagon of Butterbeer, and a wooden board holding a loaf of bread complete with knife soaring towards the table. Too enthusiastically though, as the soup skidded the length of the table leaving black marks and only just not falling off the edge, the Butterbeer really did fall with a crash, and the knife slipped right off the board and soared point blank into the table where Sirius' hand had just been.

Harry had to swallow very hard around the boy's sudden laughter, that felt like a bad omen to him.

Molly was telling her kids off already in shouting tones about how just because they were of age now did not mean they had to whip their wands out for everything!

James wasn't shouting that too loud considering his infant was still being rather fidgety in his mother's arms, but the tone was clear in his voice and they were all giggling now as none of them would deny they had been the same way after they'd turned seventeen.

Fred was trying to ignore his mother by hurrying forward and apologizing to Sirius while wrenching the knife out of the table, but both he and Harry were to busy laughing to notice.

"Good to know some things don't change," Sirius muttered as he brushed some hair back out of his face and grinned at Harry who'd quickly forced himself to ignore his moment and had indeed been laughing along.

Crookshanks had been startled so bad he'd darted under a dresser.

Arthur was trying to agree with his wife that now they were of age they should be showing more responsibility-

"Parents always think you're supposed to be responsible no matter what age you're at," James sighed.

while Mrs. Weasley cut in that none of their brothers caused this much trouble!

Lily winced as she heard that again, how she wished Molly would quit badgering those boys about being like their siblings, it couldn't be good for any of them to always be compared to each other, she still remembered how Ron had been on that first train ride and how badly it had shown him being looked over when it came to his fourth year.

She slammed a fresh flagon of Butterbeer on to the table, and spilled almost as much again.

"I'm sure that got her point across better," Remus snorted.

All while yelling Bill hadn't felt the need to Apparate every few feet!

"But Percy apparently did, and no one was yelling at him for that," James huffed.

"I don't buy that for a second," Harry muttered to himself, thinking of how Bill's very look screamed he didn't like abiding by normal standards and enjoyed his reckless moments.

Charlie hadn't charmed everything he met!

"Charlie clearly needs some fun tips then," Lily smiled to herself.

Percy -

James voice broke with a sharp hiss of frustration even before he found out how the guys own parents reacted. He didn't care if he had no personal relation to Percy himself, he now couldn't help picturing that little shit of a Weasley in as foul a way as possible.

She stopped dead, catching her breath with a frightened look at her husband, whose expression was suddenly wooden.

Lily felt herself wobbling and tucking her child that much closer to her as it hurt to picture such a thing happening to those parents.

Bill jumped in by saying he was hungry, and Lupin swiftly agreed the stew looked delicious as he tried loading a plate to hand to her.

"I see why the Order's still keeping you around," Sirius nodded to himself, "least you can still manage to change the subject slick as butter."

For a few minutes there was silence but for the chink of plates and cutlery and the scraping of chairs as everyone settled down to their food.

Harry gave a sad sigh as he wondered if Percy would be proud of himself for creating such an awkward silence at just the mention of his name.

Then Mrs. Weasley turned to Sirius.

"Oh boy," they all muttered, as Sirius wasn't being at his most pleasant around them while in mention of that house, but around someone he'd shown not a spot of like for inside it, this could turn ugly fast.

She brought up that there was an odd rattling in the writing desk upstairs,

"And she's telling you this, because?" Remus asked with honest amusement.

"Wants to know the best spell to set it on fire?" Sirius shrugged carelessly.

it could just be a Boggart, but she'd rather have Mad-Eye check it before they opened it.

Harry suddenly blinked in utter fascination at the idea as he turned to Remus and asked, "you said a Boggart could read your mind and automatically turn into the thing you fear most, but could it do that if it doesn't realize Moody's looking at it? What do Boggarts look like when no one's around?"

"No one knows a Boggarts true form," Remus reminded, "not even Moody. Most likely it's just hiding as something already to fear you, and the person who did get closest to it could still manage to transform and scare them before they'd cast it off."

Harry was still trying to picture Moody being afraid of anything a Boggart could turn into as a laughable idea, but still the idea of that Boggart bothered him for some reason, like it did scare someone.

Sirius indifferently agreed, while Molly moved on to talking about some curtains full of Doxys and how they should tackle that tomorrow.

"I wouldn't let Sirius anywhere near anything in that place without taking his wand away, and that's too dangerous as well," James shook his head at Molly. "Just what makes her think it's a good idea to let Sirius help try and clean anything?"

Sirius just wasn't in the mood to respond back and keep playing this off like a joke, the thought of that room like every other dragging up some haunting memories he'd done a good job of burying over the years, this one in particular being the time his dad had given him a week long lecture on the dark creatures of the world and what Sirius was expected to do if he ever met them, not a pleasant reminder while sitting next to Moony.

Sirius stated he looked forward to it, while Harry wondered if he was the only one finding sarcasm in that.

"I can't imagine it was hardly disguised," Lily muttered, Sirius had never done a good job of hiding any feelings.

Opposite him, Tonks was entertaining Hermione and Ginny by changing her nose between bites.

This was so randomly unexpected James had to stifle a giggle before going on, and then read slightly louder over the others still doing so.

Even as Harry looked it extended into a long beak-like protuberance that resembled Snape.

"If she has never done that to his face, I will pay that woman my weight in gold this instant to do it now," Sirius managed to get out in between laughter.

"No, no, you're not thinking hard enough," Remus instructed with a smirk, "she's supposed to be doing it behind his back in the Order meetings while he's not looking."

James actually had to stop to catch his breath back from laughing so hard, while Lily rolled her eyes and was beginning to think Tonks really would fit into this bunch a little too well.

Then she took another bite, and it shrank down to a button. Apparently this was a regular mealtime show, as Hermione and Ginny began asking for favorites.

"This really is fascinating," Lily grinned the more she realized how flexible Tonks's ability was outside of a text describing it.

One asked for a pig snout, and when she was done Harry had the impression of looking at a female Dudley.

"Urgh, as if the original version wasn't vile enough," James chuckled.

Mr. Weasley, Bill and Lupin were having an intense discussion on about goblins.

"Think I'd rather go back hearing about Tonks noses," Remus huffed quietly to himself, which Sirius still heard and rolled his eyes at, hoping Moony wasn't going to be like this every time he was mentioned, and completely ignoring the fact that he had been the same lately.

Bill was talking about how they were giving nothing away, no one could work out whose side they were on. They could just be staying neutral.

"That's what they're doing now," Lily agreed.

Mr. Weasley didn't believe they'd really join You-Know-Who, he'd wronged them too much, reminding them of that goblin family in Nottingham.

"Has that happened yet?" James asked in confusion, though after a while all of the deaths really started blurring together.

"I think Sturgis was actually doing some looking into that area," Remus nodded to himself, "he mentioned it last time, so maybe, or it's just fixing to."

"Must be a big name in the goblin community to still be remembered so vividly," Lily said sadly, as normally wizards were horrible about keeping track of other creatures history.

Lupin countered it all depended on what they were offered. If Voldemort was promising freedoms wizards were denying them, they'd be tempted.

Remus muttered something under his breath about how that would tempt a lot more than goblins, but Sirius gave him a hard nudge to shut up that kind of talk.

Then asking Bill if he'd heard anything from Ragnok?

Bill sighed as he explained how anti wizard he was at the moment, he felt shorted because they'd never gotten back their gold from Bagman, claimed the Ministry was doing a cover up so they wouldn't get their dues.

"I'm sure no one got their gold back from Bagman," Lily scowled at the reminder of that, the twins in particular nearly having suffered a great fallback for it.

Laughter broke off the end of that though, from the rest of the Weasley's and Mundungus.

"Well at least this sounds far more entertaining," James grinned.

He was telling them a story about how he sold this guys nicked toads back to him for double the price.

James nearly couldn't finish to the end he was laughing so hard, though he really was the only one.

Lily still found him too annoying to laugh at such a stupid thing, and though Sirius normally would have he was on Lily's side for once. Remus still looked distant and distracted like he hadn't even realized they'd switched to another topic.

Mrs. Weasley cut him off saying they didn't need to be hearing stories about his business while Ron was slumped over the table laughing.

"At least someone's enjoying themselves," Harry sighed.

Mundungus apologized at once, but tried to offer that as the other guy had nicked them in the first place as well, Mundungus hadn't really been doing anything wrong.

"Can't fault his logic though," Sirius did nod in agreement to that, causing Lily to glare at him as she wished he was kidding.

Molly snapped back Mundungus must have missed a few crucial lessons on right and wrong then.

"Don't know what she's talking about," Remus snorted, "he's clearly looked them all up verbatim."

"So he can do them exactly wrong," James smirked.

Fred and George were keeping their faces out of sight, while Mrs. Weasley shot Sirius a nasty look at the end.

"Just what have you been up to regarding them?" James suddenly demanded eagerly.

Since the first time that place had come up, Sirius truly looked interested in the story again and waved James on eagerly in hopes he would at least find that out.

Then she got up to check on dessert, and Sirius informed Harry Molly didn't approve of Mundungus.

"So what's she glaring at you for then?" Remus asked in honest disappointment if that had been what that look was for.

"I most likely indulged him a lot before he skipped out on Harry," Sirius offered, "and maybe she didn't approve of the way I handled him when he came to tell us."

"Can't imagine that's it," Lily scoffed, "since I can all to easily picture Molly wanting to throw a swing as well."

Harry asked why he was even in the Order, and Sirius explained that he was a useful crook, very loyal to Dumbledore, knows a lot of the underbelly information that came in handy. Molly in particular disliked him because he'd skived off on his tailing duty of Harry.

"I'm positive she's not the only one," Sirius sniffed, even if he was still on Harry's side he should have known about it, it didn't negate that Dung hadn't been doing his job.

Lily was frowning to herself for a different reason, thinking that it technically was Sirius' house and Molly shouldn't be shooting looks at him for having anyone stay over. She did wonder at Sirius' motives behind this, but she knew that he didn't know now.

Three helpings of food later and Harry's pants were beginning to feel a bit tight, quite an accomplishment as they used to be Dudleys.

"Probably back from when he was single digits though," Harry corrected with a slight snort.

He was starting to feel a bit sleepy, and clearly so was the rest of the table.

Just as Molly was encouraging them all to head that way though, Sirius turned to Harry and said how surprised he was, he'd expected him to demand answers about Voldemort the moment he'd stepped in here.

They all burst out laughing at that one, though Harry blushed vividly as he was again reminded who he had demanded those answers from, very vocally.

The atmosphere in the room changed with the rapidity Harry associated with the arrival of Dementors.

"You sure do have the best timing Padfoot," Remus muttered.

Harry agreed he had, but his friends had told him the Order wasn't telling so-

Molly cut him off that was exactly right, he was too young.

Lily flushed in agitation at Molly saying that for her son. It should be Sirius' decision, and more than that, it should be hers to decide what Harry knew at what age. She wasn't the only one scowling hatefully for that comment, but somehow it hurt her the worst that she watched Harry flush with a new embarrassment as his eyes flickered from her and away again almost shamefully, like he'd just been wondering if his mum would say the same.

Sirius asked back since when did you have to be in the Order to be asking questions?

George interrupted loudly to demand of where this attitude had come from? While Fred agreed they'd been trying to get Sirius to tell them for a month and he hadn't shared a thing!

"Honestly Sirius, I think I'm impressed with your restraint," Lily seemed the only one who was surprised though.

James now looked offended for his mate as he said, "Sirius knows better than to get between a mum and her kids. Molly probably asked Sirius specifically not to say anything to them and he knows to respect that."

Lily looked chagrined enough Sirius didn't even bother to smirk at her, much.

Fred mimicked his mother near perfectly about how they were too young to be in the Order.

"They've always seemed rather good at their impressions," Remus muttered randomly as he shifted uneasily in his seat, he could already feel a fight breaking out and he wasn't even in the room for it.

Sirius returned it wasn't his fault what his parents decided to share, but Harry-

Molly cut across it wasn't his decision either!

"Hey!" Sirius barked in outrage.

"He's the only one who should get to decide," James agreed dangerously. He'd spent hours now hating the world that left Sirius the one doing so, but he'd had to come to the acceptance of it all the same. Who was Molly to be saying anything otherwise?! Harry was just a friend of one of her kids!

Her normally kind face was looking dangerous as she reminded Sirius of what Dumbledore had said.

"He's less of a right than Sirius!" Lily sneered back, looking quite dangerous herself Harry noted. "Who's Dumbledore to be telling Sirius anything to do with Harry? Merlin, we left Sirius as Harry's Godfather, and even if it's not recognized because of that stupid bloody thing everyone thinks he did, those who do know better should respect it!"

Sirius asked her of which part with the air of bracing himself for a fight.

Molly shot back the part about telling Harry more than he needed to know.

"Dumbledore needs to get a grip on what he thinks everyone needs to know," Remus snapped hatefully. First trying to keep Harry at such a terrible place he didn't want to be at, now trying to enforce Sirius do his dirty work as well, where did the man think he got the right to control them like this?

Almost everyone was watching the pair like a tennis rally.

"I imagine this would be quite a show under most circumstances," James muttered as he was honestly having a bit of a hard time picturing it. Someone they'd never even really met arguing with his best friend about the circumstances of how much his infant son should know about the Order while he wasn't even in the picture.

Lupin's eyes were fixed only on Sirius.

Sirius came a second too close to snapping, 'thanks for the backup Moony,' but managed to stop himself just in time as it really wasn't fair to be turning his temper on him now when he had just snapped in agreement with him. At least his friend Remus was still acting the same as he should be, whereas they'd still yet to see their friend really taking on his normal roll of anything regarding Sirius or Harry in this twisted future.

Sirius said back he wasn't going to be saying more than needed to be known, but Harry was the one who saw Voldemort come back, (ignoring as always the shiver that passed everyone except Harry, Remus, and Sirius at the mention of that name,) and Harry had more a right than anyone-

Molly cut him off he was only fifteen!

"Don't you cut him off just because he's making a good point," James muttered petulantly.

Sirius instantly snapped back he'd dealt with just as much as the Order at that age!

Harry couldn't stop a soft little smile creeping across his face for that. He hadn't even spoken those words to Sirius, and yet his godfather really did seem to know him so well as he'd said the same thing Harry had been thinking for a month.

Mrs. Weasley icily agreed no one was denying what he'd done, but-

Sirius cut her off to remind he wasn't a child!

Molly snapped right back he wasn't an adult either, he wasn't James!

Sirius looked like he'd just been kicked in the sack. What exactly had he been saying for Molly to insinuate that? Had he really lost a chunk of his mind in Azkaban to really not be able to tell the difference between them sometimes? Sure they looked a lot the same, but he wouldn't really-

James's face had been steadily growing more red the more he got out of Molly talking to his brother like that, but the moment he realized she'd just shot the lowest of blows at him he switched to several shades too pale for his normal coloring and stated in a flat, cold voice, "Molly just lost any of my respect."

"Dad!" Harry yelped defensively at once. He couldn't say he was pleased at Molly's coddling of him in this moment, but that was too far for him of someone he cared deeply for.

"I'm not going to let her get away with talking to him like that," James vowed without a change in expression. "Not after all he's been through, what he's still going through."

Harry glanced around beseechingly, but he didn't see anyone who didn't disagree with James. Harry winced as he did admit that Mrs. Weasley had crossed a line with that remark, but Harry still wished they'd cut her some slack as she was speaking out of anger and clearly trying to look out for him even if it was in the wrong way.

Sirius said back flatly he was perfectly clear who Harry was.

Sirius wished he had that same confidence in his future self. Despite how warmed he was James was using that icy tone, that no one in here had even thought to question the remark besides him, he honestly wondered if it was needed as Sirius wasn't as convinced that he wasn't just a bit loose around the edges, if maybe he did sometimes get the two swapped. He'd like to think he never got that bad, but well, twelve years was a long time, and he'd be wishing he had James back now more than ever in that hated place...

Molly said she wasn't as sure, the way he went on sometimes it was as if he thought he had his best friend back.

Remus suddenly realized they were the only ones enraged over this, and that in fact Sirius was trying to burrow himself into his seat and not looking at anyone, but instead seemed almost guilty of his future actions. James was too distracted by half reading, and half forcing himself not to shout as Remus leaned in to whisper, "Sirius mate, you know that's not happening to you, it never could."

Sirius only nodded as answer, and while he'd have liked more, Remus let it go for now.

Sirius should know that Harry was still in school and be responsible enough not to forget it.

Sirius demanded back, his voice rising with every word, that she was implying he was an irresponsible godfather?

Lily had said a lot about Sirius before, but never that, and she was right behind whatever nasty retorts James was interlacing as he forced himself to keep going.

Molly said it meant Sirius had been known to act rashly, which was exactly why Dumbledore was making him stay at home.

"I'm going to kill Dumbledore doing that to you!" James finally broke and yelled that bit, regretting it instantly as it only started his son crying again. Giving the book a nasty toss aside, he took him from Lily and cradled him in his arms for a moment to calm himself as much as his baby it seemed. "Don't," he said without looking up when he'd seen Harry moving out of the corner of his eye. "I'll get it in a second, just let me," he took a deep breath as he kept his baby to him for an extra second, but now the child had calmed himself back down he didn't seem to want to move again as he nestled into the crook of James's neck. Sighing with content, he managed to keep him there while summoning the book back to him, and managed to keep hold of both while forcing himself to keep going. At least now he couldn't lose his temper.

Molly turned on her husband then for backup, but Arthur took his sweet time in answering that now Harry was here, he should know some things.

Mrs. Weasley snarled back there was a difference between that and inviting him to ask whatever he wanted.

"I'm still struggling to understand where she feels she gets the right to say anything regarding Harry," Remus snarled under his breath as he massaged his temple.

Lupin cut in then, while Molly looked to him almost hopefully like she thought she now had an ally,

"Remus, if you actually agree with her on this, I will hold you down myself and watch them take your head off," Lily promised.

Remus just nodded silently, knowing he wouldn't fight back. If he really had changed so much he'd side with her over Sirius, then there wasn't anything left of his Marauder heritage. It didn't even matter if he disagreed with Sirius, he should stand by him anyways to her face.

but all he said was that Harry should be given the general picture from them rather than, other means. His tone made it obvious he was aware a few Extendable Ears were still around.

"There's my Moony still in there," James at least seemed to approve of this answer.

Molly was breathing heavily as she glared at everyone, giving in at last, but saying that Dumbledore had his best intentions in trying to prevent this.

Sirius bit back he wasn't her son!

Molly shot right back he was as good as.

Sirius felt a burn vanishing all his ire at her. Suddenly another woman flashed across his mind, of Euphemia Potter saying the same thing about him so many years ago now. He'd realized the Weasley's had unofficially adopted Harry, he just hadn't realized how much it paralleled his own family with the Potters. He hadn't even really been the one so angry with her right now, to worried for his own state of mind and what he could have been seeing while Harry wasn't there, and now he was confident he really couldn't say a word against her. Not after he now saw those fierce hazel eyes claiming him as Molly had just done for Harry.

Demanding who else he had?

"The fact that she even needs to ask," Lily's harsh tone came out muffled through her gritted teeth. She'd hated that sting of replacement several times now, but none worse than this where Molly was actively trying to block Sirius from doing his job, what Lily honestly wouldn't even be doing in that moment was hurting so bad she never could have imagined this feeling.

Sirius bitterly reminded he had him!

Molly's lip curled meanly as she reminded he hadn't been doing much good in Azkaban before now.

James couldn't actually allow his temper to snap again with his little charge nodding off while still trying to hold onto conscious trying to catch at his father's flyaway hair, so it just wasn't as satisfying watching Lily and Remus look ready to deck her any second like he knew he wanted to. It was least helpful of all Harry, nor Sirius were on the same boat, both were watching the three of them almost pitifully, though neither risking saying anything to the contrary it was clear they didn't fully agree. James didn't understand how Sirius could be so on this woman's side right now, how he wasn't the angriest of them all, and he would demand answers from him once his kid fell asleep and they had a real excuse to pause, but for now he forced himself to read past that moment that shouldn't exist.

Sirius began rising from his seat, but Lupin cut across both of them Molly wasn't the only one at this table who cared about Harry, and for Sirius to sit down.

"Not one word Sirius, or I'll mute you," Remus promised, his eyes still flashing dangerously as Sirius looked to try cracking a dog joke at a time like this.

Mrs. Weasley was still trembling with fury, while Sirius had to slowly force himself to retake his seat. **

Then Lupin turned to Harry and said he should have a say in this.

"Do you really think he'd say anything against Sirius' side?" James forced himself to ask slowly and calmly, better than starting to shoot curses at someone who wasn't here.

"No, but it was still a valid point," Remus huffed without looking at him, his eyes still focused dangerously on the book. Remus was really wishing that instead of telling Sirius to cool it, he was instead ripping Molly a new one for bringing that up.

Harry instantly agreed he wanted to be told what was going on. He did not look at Mrs. Weasley as he said this, too touched by her saying he was as good as her son, but also impatient with her mollycoddling. He wasn't a child.

Mrs. Weasley's voice cracked as she turned on her own kids plus Hermione, telling them to get out.

"Again, I am going to point out, where does she have the say to be telling Hermione anything," Lily hissed, far past caring she hadn't said much coherent besides that lately, this woman was pushing every last one of her buttons. "It should be up to her own parents to decide!"

Harry honestly felt like maybe Mrs. Weasley could claim there, as perhaps the Grangers had left Mrs. Weasley in charge of their daughter and what all she could know, but that was an honest guess as he had no clue of Hermione's parents relationship with anyone. He was honestly just trying to think of any defense for someone who'd touched him so deeply, but he still couldn't bring himself to undermine his own mother.

Fred and George shouted back at once they were of age, while Ron demanded if Harry could why couldn't he?

"Sadly, the parents original points against their own children still stand," Sirius said under his breath, clearly the only one going to do so, though he had no doubts all those being removed would pounce on Harry the moment he was alone.

While all Ginny could protest was that she wanted to stay.

"Poor Ginny really doesn't have any kind of excuse," Sirius muttered absently.

Mrs. Weasley began forbidding any such thing, but again Arthur cut her off, saying the twins were of age and could hear at least this.

"I- he couldn't have said that when they'd be saying that all summer! Why does he cut in now to back them up?" Lily balked at the randomness of this.

"I suppose Mr. Weasley still wouldn't let them into the Order meetings, but now when I'm hopefully just going to get a few questions answered, he thought that was okay than whatever the twins were trying to ask," Harry offered.

Molly was going scarlet as she forced herself to agree with this,

"Can't baby them all forever," Lily snapped grimly.

but then she tried to insist that Ron, but Ron cut her off it didn't matter, Harry would just tell him anyways, then suddenly he phrased it as a question as he looked at Harry.

"Now why did he ask you that?" James raised a still fuming brow. "Would have been much stronger if he'd thrown that out not as a question."

"Guess he thought I was still too pissed at him to hold his weight," Harry sighed as some pesky part of his mind snipped he just may not.

For a split second, Harry considered telling Ron that he wouldn't tell him a single word, that he could try a taste of being kept in the dark and see how he liked it.

"Ouch, Harry sure knows how to get his revenge point across," Remus winced as he watched Harry flinch at such a thing being spoken, he was not proud of that thought.

"I can't see him doing it," James said without looking up, "angry he is, but he's never been petty."

But the nasty impulse vanished as they looked at each other.

James nodded without surprise while Lily gave her son a pleased smile and Harry basked just for a moment in his parents happiness at that.

Mrs. Weasley entirely lost her temper as she shouted at Ginny to get to bed, now!

Ginny did not go quietly.

Harry gave a light chuckle to himself at that little spitfire, he had no doubts Ginny may well be clever enough to be going through the twins stuff the moment her mother was back out of sight and try to sneak back down with an Extendable Ear.

She stormed up the stairs and made such a racket Mrs. Black's ear splitting portrait began shrieking again, while Lupin ran off to restore calm to that.

"What he's usually best at," Sirius gave a half hearted smile that didn't match the still sour tone of the room.

Only when he returned next to Sirius did his godfather ask Harry what he wanted to know?

"I really do love how open ended you are with him," James forced a smile that felt like cracking plaster. At least he'd tried though, and it was as good as any attempt he could make at praising how Sirius was handling his son.

Harry took a deep breath and asked the question that had obsessed him for the last month.

Lily hummed as a stirring of emotions still bothered her for that being true, Dumbledore better show his white beard around soon to explain that mess, but listened eagerly to this news that should have long since been given to her son.

Where was Voldemort? What had he been doing? He'd been trying to find out through the Muggle news but couldn't find anything.

Sirius said that was because he hadn't been causing any funny deaths, as far as they knew, which was quite a lot.

More than he thought they did, Lupin added.

"Well that's nice at least," Remus tried, unintentionally Harry was sure, for the same smile he'd offered him that same night.

Harry asked why he'd stopped killing then, as Harry knew he had done so at least twice in the past year.

"Well don't say it like it's such a bad thing Harry," James muttered.

Sirius said it was because he was trying not to draw attention to himself, his comeback hadn't gone off as he'd wanted to, Lupin agreed Harry had messed it up for him with a satisfied smile.

"Well at least someone's having fun with this," Lily almost managed a smirk for Harry's now bewildered face.

Harry asked how, and Sirius reminded he wasn't supposed to have survived.

"But I'm glad you did by the way," Sirius inserted as James's small face twitch showed Sirius hadn't at the time.

Nobody apart from his Death Eaters was supposed to know, but Harry had come back and instantly informed Dumbledore.

Harry asked how that had been helpful, and Bill reminded that You-Know-Who was only scared of one person, the very same Dumbledore. While Sirius added that thanks to Harry, Dumbledore had managed to recall the Order of the Phoenix in an hour after Voldemort's return.

"That really is some brilliant timing though," James really did smile this time. "If we'd been able to do that the first time around, I'm actually positive far more lives could be saved, a lot more could be done to cramp him up more often."

"It's not the one with the most pieces, but the one with the most knowledge," Remus agreed while both his friends rolled their eyes at him and his word wisdom talk again.

Harry asked what the Order had been doing then?

Sirius said they'd been trying to work against Voldemort carrying out his plans, which Harry interrupted to ask how they knew what those were.

"I thought that you put that one together yourself," Lily reminded Harry of his last year and watching Dumbledore give Sirius those orders.

"I was still aiming for more specifics than my guessing," Harry defended.

Lupin told that Dumbledore had a shrewd idea, and Dumbledore's ideas were normally accurate.

"I do like how you sidestepped actually giving an answer to that," Sirius told him sarcastically.

While Harry asked what Dumbledore's idea was then?

"And Harry fell for it," James said tragically, he'd have never let Moony get away with that.

Sirius said that first of all, Voldemort was trying to get his numbers back up. He used to have countless witches and wizards he'd bullied and bewitched to work for him, plus a plethora of Dark creatures.

Remus tried his hardest to smother the flinch that gave him, he really hated his job for the Order and had no delusions he'd pick back up on it for Dumbledore's orders.

He wasn't going to try taking on the Ministry with a handful of Death Eaters.

Harry watched those around him smile without humor at the idea, but then why did he get a nasty little pit swelling inside of him at the idea of that?

So they were trying to make people aware Voldemort was back to keep them on guard, they'd be less of a target for Voldemort that way, but it was proving tricky.

Harry asked why, and Tonks explained it was Cornelius Fudge.

"Still can not wrap my head around anyone being that dense," James muttered in disgust as his infants heavy breathing began lightly filling his ears, at least encouraging him to keep a gentle volume even while referring back to something he hated.

Harry tried to ask why he was being so stupid, while Arthur said it all boiled down to Dumbledore.

Tonks agreed Fudge was frightened of him.

"He's what now?" Lily demanded like she thought James was playing a joke.

Arthur added on frightened of what Dumbledore was up to.

"He's up to trying to save your useless arses," Remus still had his head cocked to the side as he tried to find any other way to interpret this news and coming up short.

Fudge thinks Dumbledore's plotting to overthrow him.

There was a moment of silence where you could hear crickets chirping in the background after the stupidity of that statement. None of the others could even think to add anything onto it, and James had to remember how to get past such a new level of stupid to even keep going.

He thinks Dumbledore wants to be Minister of Magic.

"But he doesn't," Remus said slowly and clearly, trying to form a proper sentence again. "If he did, he'd have done it ages ago."

"I think Fudge and Vernon could form their own group of idiots, but they're too dense to understand how to put together the meeting," Sirius muttered.

Harry tried to say Dumbledore didn't want, while Arthur agreed everyone knew Dumbledore didn't want the job, even though a lot of people had told him he should take it after Millicent Bagnold had retired.

"I'd still take her over this dunderhead any day," Lily sniffed, "pull her out of retirement or something, please!"

Fudge had never forgotten though how popular Dumbledore was when he took office, even if deep down he knew how much more clever than him Dumbledore was and how back in the early days he'd been asking for Dumbledore's help with his new position all the time.

"I would so love to pay someone to follow him around and try to at least get him to admit that though," James huffed.

He was now enjoying his new power too much, and he'd convinced himself Dumbledore was making this all up to cause trouble.

"That doesn't even make sense, about anything!" Lily still insisted as if hoping repeating this enough would make anyone see sense.

Harry was getting angry now as he asked how anyone could think that, that Harry would make it all up?

"Fudge was there when you, when-" Lily had to swallow hard to phrase that without crying from remembrance of what her son had been through, "outside that maze. There just isn't a way possible he could explain that away!"

"Apparently deniability stretches so far it can block even the worst of memories, I almost envy him," Remus stated.

Sirius explained that if he accepted Voldemort was back, it would put the Ministry in a state of fear they hadn't had to cope with in fourteen years.

"Just because you're pretending it's not happening doesn't mean it's not," James felt a growl building in his throat as he got that out, but the vibrating was already stirring his restless charge and he forced himself to temper off.

Lupin switched back to explaining the problem with the Ministry denying Voldemort's return, it put the rest of the populace in a dangerous position of being made unaware anything was happening, leaving them all vulnerable to the Imperius Curse for starters.

Harry felt a shiver creep up his spine at that idea of so many left unprotected, all the damage Fudge was doing to countless people just because he was afraid. Harry had now seen fear do so many things to people, and yet he still couldn't imagine acting in those same ways.

Harry looked around the table beseechingly as he asked if anyone was telling?

Sirius gave a humorless smile as he reminded that with a ten thousand galleon price on his head,

"Really? That was actually more than I was expecting. You think if- ouch!" He yelped as Remus smacked him hard for making light of that.

he could hardly stroll around the street handing out fliers.

"Oh but it would be so much more interesting if I did," Sirius persisted, trying to duck around Moony's swinging hand now, "what better impact than- ouch, Lily!"

Her eyes flashed, threatening to use worse than a stinging hex on him if he kept poking fun at this while his friends still adopted fear filled looks at any mention of it. Sirius honestly just did because it made him feel better to pretend this was funny than be reminded who had put him in this situation, but held his tongue back nonetheless in hopes the subject would just be changed off of him.

Lupin added next that he was not a popular dinner guest, as being a werewolf tended to be an occupational hazard.

"Remus," James began in agitation.

"What? I'm not wrong," he shot back at once with his arms crossed.

"We still hate the way you phrase that," Lily snipped at him, while he rolled his eyes at the lot of them. There really wasn't a nice way to say it, though they all tried to pretend otherwise.

Harry was just gazing sadly at Remus for a moment as an extra surge of hatred flashed for Snape, Skeeter, and everyone else who had been making Remus' name so public of late. It's no wonder if he'd been doing worse since he'd left Hogwarts, he clearly had a hard life without people automatically reacting to his name.

Sirius added on for them that Tonks and Arthur would get fired if they tried anything, and they needed people inside the Ministry they could trust.

They have managed to convince a few though, Arthur added on, Tonks and Kingsley for instance. Kingsley in particular was useful to have on their side, as he was leading the hunt for Sirius.

James had to cut off his snort of amusement with a small cough instead as he turned worried eyes on Sirius, though at least his best friend tried to play that off as a joke again. "Now I wonder how that meeting went? Would really hope I sat in on that one, though do you think it's too much to ask Kingsley to start spreading word of just how dumb it is to be looking for me at all?"

"Well my liking for Kingsley just went up tenfold," Remus muttered.

He'd instead been giving false information that Sirius was in Tibet.

"Bleh, no way could I survive out there, I couldn't stand replacing my diet with yak milk."

"I am going to smack you," Lily promised him.

Harry began in confusion if no one was spreading word, but Sirius reminded about Dumbledore, and pointed out why he was in so much trouble with the Ministry lately.

"Ah," they all muttered, at least Dumbledore was doing something besides annoying the piss out of all of them.

He'd been going around telling anyone and everyone with a trace of fear that Voldemort was back, and the Ministry was trying to retaliate by discrediting him as an old man losing his grip. They'd already taken away his Chairmanship on the International Confederation of Wizards and had voted him out of his Chief Warlock position on the Wizengamot. They were even trying to take away his Order of Merlin, First Class.

"Can they actually take that away once it's given to you?" Harry frowned at a rather mean blow in his opinion.

"Only if they can prove he didn't rightfully earn it in the first place," James shrugged without much care.

Bill added on with a grin Dumbledore said he didn't care though so long as they didn't take him off his Chocolate Frog Card.

"That sounds like Dumbledore," Remus muttered almost wistfully, still half hoping to hear the return of the headmaster they knew and trusted rather than this control freak ruining both Harry and Sirius' life of late.

Arthur snipped at his son this wasn't a time for laughing,

"I think you all need a few good laughs," James mumbled pitifully, wondering when his friends had fallen out of that business, knowing it had happened at the point he'd stopped being around turning them into these cold, barely recognizable people.

if Dumbledore carried on in this way he'd wind up in Azkaban.

"I'm honestly not convinced that place could hold him," Lily said mostly to herself, "or more over, that they could get him there."

"Can't deny it would be a show to watch them try though," Remus sighed without any humor.

Harry stared oddly at them for a moment but was too distracted to really let that sink in.

Harry asked if Voldemort was recruiting for more Death Eaters, word was bound to get out that he was back then.

Sirius reminded Voldemort didn't exactly go door to door to do this.

"Yeah, he only did that to Crouch, and that didn't seem to work out too well for him," Sirius finished himself with a roll of his eyes, then went cross eyed as he realized what he did.

James was just ignoring him at this point.

He tricked, jinxed, and blackmailed them all as subtly as possible. He also had bigger plans than just that.

When Sirius hesitated, Harry pushed what else while Sirius and Lupin exchanged a look.

"Now you're asking the real questions," Lily said a bit eagerly, her boys reacting that way must mean Harry was starting to scratch at what supposedly was too much information.

Sirius began slowly and carefully that it was something he could only get by stealth.

Harry automatically guessed it was a weapon, adding on he didn't have it last time?

Sirius agreed, and Harry wanted to know if it was more powerful than the most deadly curse, but Mrs. Weasley broke in that was enough!

"Damn that woman!" Sirius barked in frustration, causing all of them to jump, though thankfully the baby slept on. "If I want to tell Harry every little detail, would you just let me get on with it."

"You're just pissed because she cut in at the good part," Harry softly rebuked.

Sirius shrugged as he wasn't going to deny that while the others were just happy to see their normal Sirius again agreeing with them.

Harry hadn't realized she'd come back, but she marched into the full room again and snapped at every last one of them they'd heard enough, now get to bed.

Fred began protesting she couldn't boss them-

"Actually, I'm sure she can right to your own place," Lily muttered tersely, in no mood to defend her, especially to the twins, but that one had come out on impulse.

she snapped back he was going to watch her do it. Then she turned still burning eyes on Sirius and said Harry had been told enough, any more and he may as well be inducted into the Order.

"Please, please just ignore her and keep right on going," Remus placed his hands together and actually pleaded, there was no way she could actually cut off there when that had been a real answer for once!

Harry instantly agreed to the idea, but the word no was spoken sharply again, this time by Lupin.

"Remus James Lupin, I am renouncing your middle name just for that," James huffed at him, though his eyes were too dark for the joke, it was clear he didn't actually find it funny Moony had switched sides.

"You know I hate it when you call me that you twit," Remus huffed, though there was no force to his return, he felt bad himself like he'd give himself a good smack as well.

"Exactly why he did it," Sirius pointed out as he slumped back into his seat with a pout.

Remus turned on him and was fixing to start a snip right back, but Lily cut them off by telling them to hush so that James could hopefully find out just a little bit more.

The Order was only comprised of those overage, and had left school, he finished with a look at the twins.

"Honestly I don't see why though," Remus butted in, whether to keep in his friends good graces or honestly meaning it they weren't sure. Honestly it was just a sight to watch him argue with himself for a moment no one was going to stop him. "I think some spies in school would be just as useful, could surprise the lot of them how much you learn in that castle."

"Well I won't say I'm not pleased they haven't stepped that far yet," Lily rolled her eyes, thinking telling Harry these things was one thing, but actually going full through with making him an official member and expecting him to do work for them while in school really was pushing it. There did still have to be some priorities.

Then he turned to Sirius and told Molly was right, they'd said enough.

Sirius just shrugged and didn't argue.

James's face puckered as he honestly struggled to imagine that. Not his Padfoot, who had to be almost physically restrained from backing down from any fight, who only did so while still grumbling that he hadn't gotten his last say in like he was still doing now for his and Remus' tiff. The dynamic between Remus and Sirius' friendship had clearly changed just as much as the two themselves, and James was sick of hearing about these strangers passing as his friends.

Mrs. Weasley beckoned imperiously to her sons and Hermione. One by one they stood up and Harry, recognizing defeat, followed suit.

"Chapter's done," James announced as he gave the book another careless toss away, and got up to put his infant down for a proper nap.

HPHPHPHP

There's a lot of Molly lovers, and a lot of Molly haters, and most of them all center around this chapter. Really, like with Ron in the last book, there's no way to make everyone happy, but I do hope you enjoyed this chapter and what I ultimately had them all feeling for her. I won't deny this chapter truly did annoy me, as Sirius is given so much crap from Molly and Dumbledore telling him how to treat Harry when in every way possible it should be Sirius' decision. This will be the worst of what's said about her, I did promise and I will never break that promise that this'll never hit bashing territory for any character. Everyone gets a fair shake with me, as everyone does have their high and low points.

* You know, I'm actually not sure what that is supposed to be. Probably is something random we're just never told about. I kicked around a few ideas, like the Ministry for one though I can't come up with a reason why they'd need building plans for that place since people from the Ministry work there, but I suppose it could be documents of the Department of Mysteries, but I honestly doubt those plans exist and no one of the Order's been inside there, so I'd love some suggestions of other places those plans could be.

**I'm aware that Sirius technically was 'the first of thirteen to rise and so the first to die,' in that moment, but honestly it'll never be brought up by my characters as they won't be digging past the moment to realize that. Just something fun I enjoyed seeing someone point out once.

[ginevraweasiey]

the thomas-finnigans

after the war...

dean is still paranoid. seamus is still angry. that day at the castle, the remnants of their childhood still withering away around them, seamus takes dean’s hand and he squeezes so tightly that dean knows it will bruise when seamus finally lets go. they had been through so much, so many secrets, so many hours hiding from everyone, and it was all over. the war and the running and the hiding was done, so dean takes seamus by the face and he kisses him with everything he has in him.

five years they had spent, so in love that sometimes it hurt. they were thirteen when they first became boyfriends, fifteen when they ended things, seventeen when it started back up again. through it all, through seamus’s anger in fifth year, through dean’s relationship with ginny weasley, they had been in love. 

they go home together, to dean’s mother house, after the battle. and they sleep in dean’s old bedroom with the muggle football posters and the pictures that don’t move and it’s so perfect even if the bed is small. but, dean looks over his shoulder too much and, sometimes, his little brother drops a toy and dean apparates away to some forest far away. he’s not accustomed to not being in hiding or to loud noises not being snatchers there to take him.

seamus is so, so angry at the world. he’s so angry that this boy he loves so much is always so scared. he raises his voice a lot and he trembles with anger when he reads about death eaters in the daily prophet. dean has to calm him down and make him take deep breaths so that he doesn’t work himself into a frenzy.

it’s perfect, sure, but it’s so hard. to be so young and so in love and trying so hard to recover and piece themselves back together. seamus gets them a flat in london, near diagon alley, and dean cries when they get there. seamus cries, too, only because he’s so happy that dean is happy and that they’re at home with each other. they spend nights just letting everything go, punching holes in the walls and then repairing them and crying and screaming and laughing and snogging.

life goes on, as it does, and seamus’s fury becomes a diluted anger that sits heavy in his chest but that he learns to ignore. dean starts to forget to check behind doors and he opens the windows on warm mornings without fear of hearing the familiar ‘crack!’ of snatchers appearing. 

dean asks seamus to marry him over breakfast in 2002 and seamus tells him not to be selfish and to give him a nice, dramatic proposal. so, that night, they get dressed up and go to the leaky cauldron and dean asks again. seamus says yes and, even if they get some stares from a few people at booths, most of the bar is cheering and seamus is so happy and dean is crying again. 

they can’t get married, not legally under the ministry, not until 2010. but, they have a nice ceremony anyway and all of their friends are there. neville is both dean and seamus’s best man. ginny is pregnant with her first and laughing and happy for dean and harry tells seamus that he didn’t know they were together until after the war and they’re all laughing together. they dance to dean’s favorite muggle music and every single person at the wedding forgets completely about the war, just for one night.

seamus asks about children soon after the wedding and dean’s heart aches. he’d love to be a father, love to give a child what he had never gotten from his own dad. and seamus’s dad wasn’t the best, either, and dean knows they’d be great fathers, but he doesn’t know where to start.

seamus enlists the help of the smartest witch he knows, who happens to have pull at the ministry and who happens to be called hermione granger. hermione takes them to st. mungo’s, which apparently has a program for adoption that dean and seamus hadn’t even known existed. it’s a long and difficult couple of months, convincing the hospital and the ministry that they could be fathers together.

jack neville thomas-finnigan is a few months old when they finally take him home. neville holds him for the first time and he cries and dean and seamus both have this smile on their faces. 

jack, of course, looks nothing like them, but dean says jack’s got his eyes and seamus is convinced that their noses are identical. it’s a running joke that lasts until jack is well into adulthood. their son is a ball of energy, always bouncing off the walls and getting into trouble with dean’s paints and cameras and seamus’s products from weasley’s wizard wheezes. 

seamus works with george at the shop, developing all sorts of fireworks and jokes, with his affinity for fire. he smells like smoke all the time but it’s sort of endearing in a weird way. dean does professional photography and art and jack is raised being completely loved by two equally brilliant fathers.

they go through the same process again about two years after they take jack home. it’s much easier the second time around, only because the ministry is beginning to become more lenient with these types of things. ruby cecilia thomas-finnigan is exactly as, if not more, energetic and wild as her older brother.

their terrors children never know fear. they never know the type of anger that still dwells on seamus like a looming ghost that haunts forever. they don’t know emptiness or injustice or a love that they must keep secret. dean and seamus make sure of that. jack goes to hogwarts and wreaks havoc with james potter and fred weasley. ruby follows in his footsteps and letters are sent home practically begging her fathers to please get her into line.

(seamus pretends to be angry but dean knows that they both find this entirely too funny)

(leave it to my daughter to accidentally set fire to the potions professor, says seamus. dean wishes he’d have set fire to the potions professor when he was in school, but he figures hermione beat him to the punch.)

and when the ministry of magic finally gets their heads out of their arses and realizes that love is love is love is love and allows for same-sex marriage for wizards, dean and seamus hold another wedding. their children and their friends are there and they dance again and laugh again and neville is best man but so is jack and ruby is the maid of honor. 

sometimes, dean flinches when he hears apparation. and seamus still trembles a little when he reads news of death eaters in azkaban or sees lucius malfoy in public. but it is an incredible feeling for them both to look at their son and their daughter and know that they are not afraid. they are the products of a love that has been in felt in dean and seamus’s bones since they were thirteen. it’s an absolutely remarkable fact and an absolutely remarkable life.

“after the war...” masterlist

[adenei]

“Go. You go and don’t even think about coming back here.” for Romione 😊

@my-patronus-is-a-champagne-glass Thanks for the prompt! I really loved writing this one!!

************************************************************* Hermione stood up from her desk and gathered her things. “Elizabeth, I’m taking the afternoon. I have an appointment outside the Ministry. I’ll see you on Monday,” she said to her colleague and friend.

“Ooh, more wedding stuff?” Elizabeth whispered.

Hermione smiled. “Something like that.” The wedding was only a month away now, so her assumption was justified.

“Brilliant! Have a great weekend, Hermione!”

“See you,” Hermione responded as she made her way to the lifts. 

Hermione was headed to see a mediwitch at St. Mungo’s. Everything had been seemingly fine with her since Malfoy Manor, save for a few spasms now and then if she exerted too much energy on any given task. She’d recently talked to Fleur who had made the suggestion. Hermione had tried to reassure Fleur that she was fine, and she was the one to thank for that, but Fleur wasn’t convinced.

‘Zer could be hidden damage zat I did not catch. It would be best to have a mediwitch check for ze things I could not.’

So Hermione was on her way to get the work up done, and to be reassured of a clean bill of health.

****************************************************************

Ms. Belmont, the mediwitch, had just finished performing a number of spells, which was the last part of the work up. Hermione had already been administered potions, and answered a series of extensive questions about what she remembered of the events of Malfoy Manor before this point. She genuinely liked the woman who was helping her. 

“Well, Ms. Granger, I have good news and bad news after reviewing the scans.” Ms. Belmont said.

“Oh?” Hermione asked.

Ms. Belmont nodded. “Despite the extensive time and force you were under during the Cruciatus, your body has not undergone any significant damage. You were incredibly strong in fighting it. However, the spells did detect layers of scar tissue around your lower abdomen, around the outside of your uterus. It will likely affect your ability to conceive and carry a healthy pregnancy in the future.”

Hermione stared at the mediwitch. She wasn’t exactly sure what she was expecting to hear, but it wasn’t that. She’d never even thought there could be any repercussions in that area of her life. 

“It’s not to say that you can’t get pregnant, but it will be more difficult. Luckily, the uterus itself is not damaged, but the scar tissue around the outside could cause problems as it needs to expand as a baby grows.”

“I see,” was all Hermione could say.

“I will be more than willing to work with you if you and your partner come to a point where you are ready to start a family, of course. Do you have any other questions for me?” Ms. Belmont asked.

“Er, no, not right now. Thank you,” Hermione said.

“Of course. Please don’t hesitate to owl if you need anything.” Hermione nodded at the mediwitch’s words and gathered her things. 

She exited St. Mungo’s, and began walking down the street. Ms. Belmont’s words were echoing in her brain as she walked aimlessly. Hermione was having trouble thinking straight. She turned down an abandoned alley and apparated away. She found herself not in front of her own flat, but in front of Shell Cottage. Her body seemed to be working of her own accord as she felt her hand knock on the door.

Fleur opened the door after a few moments. “Hermione! Please, come in. Victoire just settled in for a nap.” As she shut the door and turned to look at Hermione, she noticed the look on her face. “What’s wrong?” 

Hermione sat on the couch in the sitting room. “It’s...I’ve just been to see a mediwitch. She was very nice, did a full work up and everything. I’m truly always amazed at how Magical medicine works…” she trailed off. 

Fleur was busy heating the kettle for tea, and gathered mugs from the cupboard. When Hermione didn’t continue, she turned to her and asked, “Eez everything okay?”

“Y-yes, for the most part. The only thing she found was some scar tissue.” 

Fleur poured the hot water in the mugs and brought them over, sitting across from Hermione. “Where eez the scar tissue?”

Hermione’s throat tightened as she looked down and clutched her lower abdomen. 

“Oh, Hermione I am so sorry.” Fleur said. This was what she was afraid of. 

“It’s- I’ll be fine. I just- I needed to tell someone. I don’t know how I’m going to tell Ron. How is he going to want to marry me still if I can’t-”

“Hermione, do not speak like that,” Fleur stopped her, but before she could continue, Victoire began crying in her room upstairs. “Please, take all ze time you need here, but do not make any rash decisions.”

Hermione sat quietly sipping her tea as Fleur tended to Victoire. She kept trying to come up with ways to tell Ron. He didn’t even know she’d been to the appointment at all. She remembered back to the times they’d talked about the prospect of kids and starting a family someday. His face always lit up at the prospect, and he was such a wonderful uncle to Victoire. Hermione felt the tears start to stream down her face. She couldn’t take that away from him.

Fleur came down a while later with Victoire in tow. “Listen, Hermione, you are more than welcome to stay, but I promised Molly zat we would be by for dinner, and Bill eez meeting us there.”

“Oh! Of course, it’s fine. I need to get going anyway. I should probably get home before Ron wonders.”

“I’m so sorry. You know I am always here if you need to talk, of course. We’ll see you on Sunday?”

“Yes, yes of course. Thank you for the tea.” Hermione then told Fleur she’d rather apparate than floo, and saw herself out as she heard Fleur lock the front door and floo to the Burrow. 

The sun was warm and the fresh air felt nice against her skin. Hermione decided to walk on the beach before settling on an abandoned log, watching the water. She thought she’d put the war past her. The nightmares had stopped ages ago, everyone had healed, and then she had to go and tear open all those old wounds. Tears began to fall again. How could she have been so stupid to believe she’d walked away from the Cruciatus Curse unscathed, by Bellatrix Lestrange no less. 

Hermione had lost track of time, having forgotten to wear her watch that day, as her thoughts began to spin out of control. She wasn’t sure how long she was sitting there, and was only brought back to reality when she heard a familiar voice calling her name. No, no, no, I’m not ready. I can’t confront him yet, she thought.

“Hermione? Hermione!” Ron called as he moved quickly towards her. “Why didn’t you come home? I stopped by your office to pull you away from your desk for the day, but Elizabeth said you’d left for the afternoon, but then you weren’t at the flat either. I checked your parent’s house and the Burrow, and that’s when Fleur said you’d been here, but she thought you’d gone home.” He paused to look at her, noticing how she stared straight ahead, instead of looking at him. “What’s wrong?” Ron made to move to her side, but stopped abruptly when she backed away and held her hands up as if to stop him. 

“I’m sorry. I just, Ron, I really need to be alone right now. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“What? Hermione, where were you this afternoon? What happened?” Ron was confused by her reaction. 

Hermione shook her head. “I can't right now. I just need a little space! Please, just-. Go. You go and- and don’t even think about coming back here. Please. Not right now. I’ll be home later.”

“But Hermione-”

“Ron, please!” Her voice broke ever so slightly. It was all she could do to hold it together. She couldn’t do this right now. She needed more time to process this on her own. 

“No,” he said. They hadn’t had a row like this in years. Ron had no idea what had happened, but the look he’d seen on Fleur’s face earlier indicated she knew more than she was letting on.

“Ron, why can’t you just give me the space I’m asking for?” she pleaded with him.

“Because we’re not in school anymore, Hermione! I’m not just going to walk away and let you sort it out and ignore me. We’re getting married in a month! I thought we were past this!” He let the frustration take over his words.

“You may not be saying that anymore after you do find out what this is all about,” Hermione realized a moment too late that the words had escaped her as she clasped her mouth with her hands, hoping the ocean breeze prevented her quiet words from being heard.

“What are you on about?” Ron sat down next to her in disbelief of what he’d just heard. The anger had dissipated and now all he could feel was fear. The fear that he could be losing her. He softened his tone. “Hermione, please. Talk to me.”

Hermione closed her eyes as a few more tears escaped. “I went to see a mediwitch today.” She waited a moment, gathering her thoughts before continuing. “To- to make sure there were no...lingering effects from the Cruciatus Curse.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked.

“Because I was sure it would all check out to be fine, and I didn’t want to worry you.” Hermione sighed.

“But it’s not fine. Otherwise we wouldn’t be here right now.”

“No,” she said plainly.

“Please tell me.”

Hermione took a deep breath in and exhaled deeply. “There’s a good chance I may not be able to carry a child. It’s not- It’s not definitive, but she said I could have a harder time because of the layers of scar tissue that’s built up around my uterus.” Hermione subconsciously moved her hand over her stomach.

Ron felt like he’d been sucker punched. Not because of Hermione’s confession, but because she thought he might not want to go through with the marriage because she might not be able to have children. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close.

“Hermione, love, I wish you would have told me. That I could have been there with you.” He tried to reassure her.

“I’ll understand if you want to call things off, since I can’t give you a family.” It was as if she hadn’t heard him, or felt his arms around her.

“I’m not going anywhere, so bloody get that thought out of your head right now. You’re my whole world, Hermione. Kids or no kids, that doesn’t matter to me. You matter to me. We’ll figure this out together. I love you.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead.

She felt as if a weight had been lifted off of her as she melted into him. “I love you, too.” She looked up at him, her eyes finally meeting his. Ron kissed her hard then, channeling all of the emotion he felt into that one kiss.

When they broke apart, Hermione chewed on her bottom lip before admitting, “I just thought we were finally past it. The nightmares are gone, the pain is gone, but now this will always be a constant reminder. It’s like she’s haunting me on purpose.”

Ron shook his head. “No. Don’t even think that. You haven’t let her get the best of you yet, so we can’t let this setback change anything.”

“I know, I know.” Hermione said. He was right after all. “I’m sorry I tried to push you away. I was just so scared.”

“Well, being alone never helps anything. Learned that the hard way. I hate to break it to you, Hermione, but you’re not getting rid of me that easily,” Ron said as he played with her hair.

“Good.” Hermione said through a smile. “Can we go home now?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Send me a prompt!

[thefemalethatwrites]

Riddle-Lestrange (Fred Weasley x OC)

Request: Yes, it just won’t let me tag them @seppys-return-to-madness

Prompt: Tom Riddle, Aka Voldemort, and Bellatrix Lestrange have a baby girl. When Harry 'defeats' Voldemort the first time round and Bellatrix is placed in Azkaban for torturing the Longbottoms, she's sent to live with the Grangers, for neither of her parents to find her.

Relationship: Fred Weasley x OC

Warnings: Cursing(?), Death, Injures

Word Count: 690

Chapter: ONE | TWO

***

Trixie's POV "Trixie! Get up!" Parkinson yelled, I groaned and sat up looking towards her,

"And what made you think you could call me Trixie?" I asked as I got out of bed and changed, 

"It's your name" she answered, I rolled my eyes before going into the bathroom and brushing my hair and teeth,

"That doesn't give you the right to call me it, you either call me Lestrange or don't call me at all" I retorted before walking out of the dorm into the common room, where Crabbe, Goyle and Draco were.

"Morning Trixie" Draco piped,

"Morning" I say,

"Why does he get to call you it" Parkinson whined, I rolled my eyes

"Because Draco isn't a whining cow like yourself" I snapped before leading them all out of the common room and to our first Flying Lesson, we arrived and I noticed that we were put with Gryffindor, I stood next to Hermione and smiled, she gave a small one back before Madam Hooch arrived

"Okay I want you to place your right hand over the broom and sat up" she said, I stuck my hand over it and the broom shot up to my hand without saying anything, I grip tightly to it, after a couple of minutes everyone had brooms in their hand, "Okay, I want you to mount your brooms, then a nice hard kick off the ground, hover for a few moments before leaning forward and coming back down" Madam Hooch demanded, I mounted my broom before Neville Longbottom went up in the air before his broom went out of control and took off, "Mr. Longbottom!" Madam Hooch said before he came at the crowd causing everyone to dive out of his way, I sighed and took off after him "Miss Lestrange!" Madam Hooch yelled as I was gaining on Neville, he fell off it but his robe caught something that was off the wall, I manage to grabbed his wrist as his robe ripped for him to fall, I landed with him and was approached by Madam Hooch, "Not bad for a first year, Lestrange" She said, I nodded

"I'm afraid I've injured his wrist when I caught him" I say, she had a look at it

"It's a broken wrist, poor boy" she said before getting him up, "Nobody flys while I take him to the Hospital Wing, if not you'll be out of here before you say Quidditch" she ordered as she walked through the crowd and into the Castle.

"You see his face" Draco said catching my attention as he picked up Neville's remembrance ball, "If he gave this a squeeze, he'd have remembered to land in his fat ass" he said making me sigh,

"Give it here Malfoy" Harry demanded stepping up to him,

"No, I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find, how about the roof" he said flying into the air,

"Draco, don't be an ass" I call up to him, I noticed Harry getting on his broom making me raise an eyebrow as Hermione gave him a lecture,

"Give it here or I'll knock you off your broom!" Harry yelled balancing himself,

"Is that so" Draco said before Harry attempted to knock him off but failed, "Have it your way" Draco said before throwing the ball, Harry flew past him before I sighed and mounted my broom before flying past Draco at a speed. I flew past Harry and caught the ball before it hit the window and threw it back to Harry, I looked in the window to see Professor Mcgonagall staring wide eyed at me, I gave a small nod before returning to the group, I landed and went over to Draco and the others, I slapped Draco over the head, "Ow" he said as his hand shot up to the hit,

"Next time, don't be an ass" I say before noticing Professor Mcgonagall,

"Harry Potter! Trixie Riddle-Lestrange!" She called out, we approached her and she led us somewhere, "Trixie, you'll have to wait a moment" she said before taking Harry further down the corridor, "Wood, I've just found you a seeker" I heard her say making me raise an eyebrow as she came over to me, we walked down to Professor Snape's classroom, "Severus, I'm sorry for intruding but I need to talk to you" she said, he came to the door, "You're still struggling to find a chaser for the Slytherin team are you not?" She asked,

"Yes" he said,

"Well, I found you one" she said mentioning me.

"Flint" Snape snapped, Flint came out and looked at me,

"Professor?" He asked,

"Meet your new Chaser, Trixie Riddle-Lestrange" Snape said, I looked towards him as he looked down at me and raised an eyebrow

"A first year?" He asked, I glared at him

"Yes, if you have a problem I would happily take a beater and hit you with a bludger" I snapped, he smirked and stuck his hand out

"Welcome to the team" he said, I shook it before being led off by Mcgonagall.

***

I overheard Ron bitching about Hermione

"No wonder she hasn't got any friends" He said making my jaw clench before Hermione stormed off from me, barging past the boys, I followed and punched Ron,

"I suggest you keep it buttoned when it comes to talking about my sister" I snapped before running to catch up to Hermione, she locked herself in a cubicle in the girls bathroom making me sigh, I leaned against it "Hermione please let me in" I say, she didn't reply so I pulled my wand out "Alohomora" I jinxed and the door unlocked so I went in and locked it behind me, she looked up at me with tears steaming down her face, I pulled into a hug as she cried into my chest, "Don't take it into any account what that ginger says" I whispered stroking her hair.

After she finished crying we came out of the cubicle only to be faced with a troll, I pushed her back into the cubicle and ducked as it swung it's club smashing some of the cubicles making her scream, it swung again so I rolled out of the way as it smashed the remain cubicles,

"Hermione move!" I heard Harry yell making me look over to see him and Ron stood there, Hermione ran under the sinks, it went to swing but Harry grabbed hold of it and landed on its shoulders, it tried to shake him off instead it got Harry's wand up its nose before grabbing him and dangling him upside down, I grabbed Hermione and pulled her to the side and placed her behind me "Do something!" Harry yelled as he avoid the swing of the club

"What?!" Ron yelled,

"Anything!" He retorted avoiding another swing, Ron pulled out his wand

"Swish and flick" Hermione commented,

"Wingardian Leviosa" Ron jinxed, the trolls club hovered in the air, I pointed my wand at the club

"Desendio" I jinxed as I made a quick movement down causing the troll to go unconscious.