#ernie macmillan x you

[miryum]

Trust (Mattheo Riddle x Reader) Southern Regency AU

Warnings: Reader is a bit of a brat/empty-minded at first but it gets so much better, 10-ish age difference, Reader is in love with Harry Potter at first (or thinks she is), set in the South (of the US), inspired by Gone With the Wind

Y/n L/n was the belle of the South. She had the Weasley twins running after her every weekend and at the weekly balls, their older brother, Charlie, had to have the first dance with her. Her father had rejected numerous suitors, but that didn��t mean they stopped trying. The Diggory family had made a large offer, but their estate was too small for the L/n family.

The L/n’s consisted of the patriarch, William, and the matriarch, Peggy. While William ran the fields, Peggy ran his heart and household. Their oldest was their pride and joy, Y/n, followed by Odessa. Odessa hated being in her sister’s shadow. It meant her infatuation for George Weasley was seen as childish and unwanted. The L/n’s had one last daughter, Della, who was ten years younger than Y/n. Della was a sweetheart who trailed after her mother, following every step religiously.

The family had many acres of fields stretching around their mansion, as did everyone else in the county. Their fields were rich with grains that shipped out to the rest of the state. William had built up an empire that was now run smoothly by his wife. So, no, not a Weasley or Diggory was good enough for their daughter. She was much too young and had years ahead of her before she was considered an old spinster.

Many boys trailed after Y/n, begging for a chance to court her, and she was happy to flirt with them. The boys, after years of growing up around the same children their entire lives, soon learned how to gain Y/n’s attention. They had to catch her when her father was busy, otherwise she would turn into his perfect, sweet little girl who could do no wrong. If her sisters were around, the younger girls would try to steal the attention and Y/n would revert to her cool, unimpressed self that none of the boys could crack. However, if the girl was at a ball or they rode over to her house to catch her reading on the porch, that’s when she would flirt and touch their arm lightly with her coy smile.

But it was not the Weasley twins or the Diggory boy that Y/n wanted. It was Harry Potter. The boy was so oblivious, it was tantalising. He had a mature air around him that no other boy did. He would ride up to her house every Sunday on his majestic white horse, Hedwig, and speak to her like no one else did. He read her poems and took her riding and was just so pretty. He talked a lot about politics and the different families of the South, and that Y/n didn’t like, but he made it up with the little gifts he brought her. There was that lace fan he brought her after his Grand Tour and even some pressed flowers in a thick book. She tried to read the book to show Harry that she cared, but it had such tiny print and was about boring law that she gave up after the first couple of paragraphs.

It was a cool June evening and the windows were open at the L/n villa. The soft breeze ruffled the curtains when the neighbour’s gossip finally reached the ladies in the house. A new engagement in the state! The four females sat at the dining table, William at the head, seemingly bored. Odessa asked excitedly who would be going to the engagement party, thinking of her dear George Weasley.

“It seems like everyone in the county,” Peggy commented, regurgitating what she had learned from the women in her cross-stitch group. “The Weasleys, the Longbottoms, the Malfoys.”

William scoffed and rattled off, “the Weasleys? Their entire brood? And the Longbottoms? They’re hardly in high society. Why invite them? And must we engage with the Malfoys? You know how they get, dear Peggy.”

“William,” Peggy reprimanded, clicking her tongue. “It’s Ginerva’s engagement. Do be kind.”

Y/n raised her head from her plate and asked, “Ginny’s getting married? The little one? To whom? Wasn’t that boy Dean Thomas pursuing her?”

“No, no,” Peggy waved her daughter off. “He was a nice young lad, but they never got along.” She took a bite of food as if she wasn’t about to deliver earth-shattering news to her unsuspecting daughter. “She’s getting married to Harry Potter.”

Y/n didn’t think she heard the rest of the conversation. Small Ginny Weasley, the girl with the choppy red hair and ugly dresses, was marrying her Harry? The Harry that had the most beautiful eyes and lovely lilting words and understanding conversations? Yes, their families were close and Harry was best friends with Ginny’s older brother, but he loved Y/n. She knew it. The way he lit up when he saw her and the way his smile slowly stretched over his lips until he was laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe. All of that was her Harry.

“Y/n?” Della asked from the other side of the table, always aware of her elder sister. “Are you alright?” But the girl couldn’t say anything. For if she did, then her whole family would know her secret. And then her mother would be embarrassed and aghast. Her father would think of her as yet still a child, brushing away her affection. Lousy Odessa would gossip to George Weasley and his twin, wanting to win over their favour, and the twins would surely tell their engaged sister. Della wouldn’t understand, the poor girl just an infant in Y/n’s eyes.

“Yes, yes, I’m alright,” Y/n muttered. “Father, I’m feeling a bit faint. I think something with the salad didn’t sit right with me. I’m to lie down.”

William muttered permission, waving his daughter away. Y/n tried not to run to her room, for fear it would give her emotions away. But the moment her door was locked safely behind her, she fell onto her bed, sobbing. How could Harry do this to her?

Oh, what was her life coming to?

Y/n had a plan. If only she could get Harry alone at his engagement party and confess her true feelings, he would see they were meant to be together. The problem was that Ginny stuck to his side like annoying glue. It seemed as if the two were off in their own little world, gazing into each other's eyes. Well, Y/n huffed to herself, two can play that game. That’s how she found herself surrounded by beaus from all over the county.

Cedric Diggory sat on the bench next to her and the Weasley twins sat at her feet on the grass. Fred Weasley went even farther and laid his head on her skirts dramatically whenever he wanted her attention. Neville Longbottom stood beside them all, looking nervously back at his Gran, who was determined to get her grandson connected to the L/n’s. Even Dean Thomas, still getting over his loss of Ginny Weasley, was there, trying to talk to an anxious Neville.

Batting her eyes and fanning herself playfully under the pretence of the hot sun, Y/n walked the line of flirtatious and bashful perfectly. She could feel the glares of all the other girls at the party, but she ignored them. She was talking to George Weasley when she spotted another boy to catch in her web. “Oh, Georgie, the Malfoy’s are here,” she commented smoothly.

This caught the rest of the suitor’s attention. “Oh, joy,” Fred said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “Come, Y/n, let me whisk you heroically away before that greased boy tries to woo you.”

“You mean Draco?” Y/n laughed melodically, which made Neville blush deeply. “Oh, he’s no harm. A bit rude and uppity, but just a boy when it all comes down to it.”

“Yes, but a boy,” Fred confirmed. “You, love, need a man.” At that, he took her hand and kissed her knuckles.

Y/n opened her fan and hid her face behind it teasingly. “Oh, Mr. Fred, you charmer,” she chastised.

“Oh, my,” Cedric breathed out, which made Y/n’s attention turn from Fred, who pouted, to the Diggory boy. Did the Malfoy’s bring a girl that captured Cedric’s eye? Oh, that would be horrid for her plan. But, no. Following Cedric’s stare, Y/n saw another man emerge with Mr. Lucious Malfoy.

“Who is that?” she asked without thinking, placing a hand on Cedric’s arm.

“What on earth is he doing here?” Dean Thomas demanded, back stiffening and hands clasping behind his back. His voice was just loud enough for Y/n and her suitors to hear. But he didn’t answer her question.

Y/n huffed slightly and turned to Neville. He would always be at her beck and call. “Neville, who is that man?” she asked again, tone firm.

Neville tore his eyes away from the mysterious man and stuttered, “uh, well, Miss Y/n, that’s Mattheo Riddle.” He slowly sat down next to her, as if testing the waters.

“Mattheo Riddle?” Y/n repeated, the name feeling heavy on her tongue. “Why, I’ve never heard of him.”

“Then your father did a good job,” Fred glowered. It seemed as if he wasn’t the only one shooting dirty looks at the new man.

Dean Thomas agreed, “yes, no respectable lady should have heard of him. An absolute abomination of a gentleman.”

Y/n’s eyes widen in the presence of new gossip and scandal, something all ladies of the county grasped for. None were above whispering to their friends behind their hands whenever they heard something enticing. “Whatever did he do?” she asked desperately.

Cedric was the one to inform her that Mr. Mattheo Riddle was the infamous bastard child of Tom Riddle and Bellatrix Lestrange. That made him the nephew of Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy. Allegedly, Mr. Riddle’s father had left him and his mother at a young age, only making visits when he felt it necessary to shape Mr. Riddle into a harsh young man. Mr. Riddle had left to join the military, but was dishonourably discharged when he shot and killed another man for speaking ill of his family and upbringing. He then followed in his father’s footsteps of backalley trading and illicit affairs. With his father and mother’s separate fortunes, along with the one he earned, he had amassed large wealth.

Y/n couldn’t help but watch Mattheo Riddle. Neville tried to hold a conversation with the girl, and she tried to entertain him, she really did, but the way Mr. Riddle held himself on the outskirts of the party captivated her. With a drink swirling in one hand and the other tucked smartly behind his back, he looked… perfunctorily debonair.

For a man a decade older than her, he was incredibly handsome. He was easily the best dressed man at the party, even better than Lucius Malfoy himself. And his hair was most unusual. Rather than the slicked back style that most young boys wore, his had more volume, showing his curls. Y/n could see his striking and calculative eyes from across the yard. They took one sweep around the party, yet glazed over her.

It took everything within Y/n not to march over to the newcomer and demand his attention. Why were his eyes not on her? But then Neville placed a concerned hand on her back and asked if she was okay. He really is a sweet boy, Y/n thought to herself. “Yes, I’m alright,” she assured him. “I just may go lie down with the rest of the ladies.”

“Oh! Of course!” Neville scrambled to his feet and helped her up. Fred Weasley let out a whine when his headrest disappeared, but understood how a delicate lady needed her rest.

“Thank you, Neville,” Y/n said sincerely. She patted his hand and whispered theatrically, “you know… you didn’t hear this from me, but I think Miss Luna Lovegood fancies you.” Neville turned a dark shade of red as Y/n made her way to the house.

But she wasn’t going to nap. With the rest of the girls also laying down, including Ginny, this was her chance to speak to Harry. She would confess her love and he would tell her he always reciprocated and then he would break off his engagement and perhaps Ginny would be sad, but Y/n’s parents couldn’t get mad once they saw how happy their daughter was.

Once inside, Y/n saw Harry bid a loving goodbye to Ginny, the latter who went upstairs to nap. Her future fiancé then turned around and noticed her. “Y/n,” he greeted with a grin. He leaned down to press a chaste kiss to her cheek. “How are you? You’ve been so busy all party, I didn’t have the chance to talk to you!” Ah, so he had seen her with her suitors. Pride filled her. This was going perfectly.

“Harry, could we talk in the library?” Y/n asked, smiling up at him, an intoxication of love filling her veins. Harry raised a curious brow, but agreed. He followed her into the library where he asked if everything was alright. “Yes, I’m fine,” she told him. “I only need to tell you something, Harry.”

“And what is that?” Harry replied with a grin, thinking it was all some lighthearted joke.

Y/n pressed a hand to her chest and looked up at him, eyes wide and pleading. “Oh, Harry,” she began. “I must say something now before you go on with this whole affair! I mean, it is truly noble of you to sacrifice yourself for the poor girl, but I couldn’t let you go on with it! Especially when I know your feelings, Harry,” she said. The boy’s expression slowly changed to one of merriment to one of guarded concern. “I’m in love with you, Harry!” Y/n exclaimed, reaching forward to clasp his hands. “I have been all my life and I know you feel the same! So why marry Ginerva when you could marry me?”

Harry didn’t say anything for a moment before he slowly retracted his hands from her gloved grip. “Y/n,” he said slowly. “I’m utterly flattered. But I’m marrying Ginny. I can’t… I can’t love you, you know that, yes?”

Confusion showed on Y/n’s face, but a small smile still managed to quirk up on her lips. “But you do, don’t you?” she asked. “Love me, I mean. I know you do, Harry.” After a moment of hesitance, she added, “right?”

“Dear,” Harry said, taking her hands in his and patting them reassuringly. “I’ve always been fond of you. You’re very witty and brave. But that’s not… that’s not who I need. I need Ginny,” he stated, looking uncomfortable. “You’re a lovely girl. Any man would be lucky to have you. But… I’m not that man for you.”

Y/n didn’t remember the rest of the conversation. She was sure Harry said some more nice things, all very awkwardly, and she remembered that he kissed her lightly on the cheek, but then she was left alone. She let herself fall onto a nearby settee, face flushed and hand on her stomach. She felt sick. But she also felt mad. Terribly mad. And yet, depressed. Too many emotions were swirling around her that she wasn’t herself when, with a yell, she picked up a vase and hurled it across the room. With a satisfying smash, it crackled and split onto the floor, just like her poor heart.

A low, amused chuckle filled the room and Y/n whirled around to see Mattheo Riddle sitting up on a couch. “What- who- what are you doing here?!” Y/n cried.

“Why, I was just taking a nap when I got disturbed by an unrequited declaration of love and a splintered vase. Whose is that anyways?” Mr. Riddle asked smoothly, shoulders still shaking from his laughter. “Whom will your father have to pay off?”

“Don’t you dare tell my father!” Y/n said, somewhere between desperate and demanding. “Oh, you sordid man! You have no right to listen in on a private conversation.”

“A rather amusing conversation,” Mr. Riddle chuckled, a wry smile stretching his lips. “I never thought you the type to lust after Mr. Potter.”

Y/n’s skirts swirled around her as she turned away from him in anger but then rounded on him again. “You don’t know a thing about me, sir! Why, I’ve never seen you before in my life.”

“And yet by the way you court all those other men, them begging after you like dogs, gives me a glimpse into your character.” It was then that Mr. Riddle took her hand in the most gentle way possible and laid a kiss upon her knuckles. The girl stilled. “Mattheo Riddle, at your service only, dear.”

“My service only?” is what Y/n could think to reply, not even giving her name like a proper lady would.

Mattheo inclined his head in a coy manner. “Yes.”

After a beat, Y/n grumped, “is that all you’re going to say?”

“I have nothing else to say.” Mattheo shrugged. One of his brows raised innocently. But Y/n got the feeling he was anything but. “Other than to ask for your name,” he added.

“Miss Y/n L/n and you will address me as such,” Y/n declared. “None of that ‘dear’ sobriquet.”

“Well, Miss Y/n L/n,” Mattheo began. “You best be hurrying along. The other women will wake from their rest soon and you wouldn’t want to be caught in the library with me, a sordid man.” He repeated her words back, but mockery laced his tone.

Y/n’s face grew hot and she spluttered a bit, looking very flustered and angered. Mr. Riddle watched on in amusement. “And how do I know you’ll keep your mouth shut about what you heard?” she asked finally.

At that, Mattheo Riddle smirked. “You don’t. You’ll just have to trust me.”

A week later was Harry and Ginny’s wedding. Y/n wore a deep blue dress, bordering on black. Yet she smiled and cheered along with the rest of the guests, even as her joy slipped away. She had half a mind to propose to Neville just to pull some attention onto her.

Mr. Mattheo Riddle was not there. Not that Y/n noticed.

She was sitting on the porch about three days later, pitying herself as she worked on her embroidery. She was trying to stitch a lovely sunrise, but she just couldn’t get a cloud right. She hardly heard the sounds of horse hooves clopping down the drive. “Miss Y/n L/n,” a gratingly familiar voice called out.

She sighed and her hands fell to her lap in exasperation. “I’m doing my embroidery!” she called back. “I don’t have time for eavesdropping men who dub me frustrating monikers.”

“You sure know plenty of synonyms for nicknames,” Mattheo commented, swinging his leg over his horse to dismount.

“Father keeps me well read.”

Mattheo bounded up the porch steps to reach her, but then realised that looked too childish, no matter how much he wanted to see her. He quickly composed himself. “And what is the lovely lady sewing?” he asked, settling into the rocking chair near her.

“I don’t recall inviting you up for a chat,” she said snarkily. After a moment where he just smirked at her, she replied, “and it’s a sunset. Or a sunrise. I’m not entirely sure yet. Whatever it is, it’s mightily frustrating.” She pricked her finger with the needle and exclaimed out.

Mr. Riddle’s brows furrowed and he took the cross-stitch away, not wanting her to get any more hurt. “Don’t you have a maid to stitch this for you?”

“Mother thinks every proper lady should know how to wield a needle and thread,” Y/n said, her back straightening. She then scowled. “Of course, Odessa has already perfected hers.”

It was then that the girl noticed Mr. Mattheo Riddle carefully stitching her embroidery, his nimble fingers tugging and looping the needle perfectly. Noticing her shocked face, Mattheo explained, “my grandmother taught me how. It was one of her favourite pastimes. I pricked myself many times — just like you. Of course, my father found it too feminine, but I just liked spending time with my grandmother. Perhaps that’s why my grandmother taught me her craft: so I could spare you some trouble and pain. I will gladly do so, darling.”

The air settled around them. Her father’s hounds were barking in the field and she could hear the servants singing from behind the house, doing laundry. She shifted in her seat. “What was her name?” Y/n asked cautiously, still not trusting this man.

“Merope,” Mattheo answered softly. “The poor thing had memory loss, you know. She couldn’t remember my name, much less what we had stitched last time I had visited. But she loved me. And so she taught me how to embroider over and over again.”

Y/n swallowed thickly. She could almost envision Mattheo as a child, climbing onto his grandma's lap to watch her sew out a work of art. Maybe they had sat on a rocking chair on a porch, just like she and Mattheo did now. She watched him finish the cloud she had been working on before handing her back the hoop. “Why are you here?” she wondered, staring down at the cloud, which was done much better than her own.

“To convince you that you can trust me.” And with that, he stood and kissed her forehead before straightening his suit and walking back to his horse. As he gripped the reins in his hands, he yelled back, “oh, and to inform you that I’ll be competing for your hand!”

She saw him next about two months later, at another county party. But this party was special. It was all for Y/n.

William L/n had gone all out for his eldest daughter. This was the day when all the formal suitors presented themselves. Yes, Fred and George Weasley had been courting her for years, but it would now be official. Not only were two of the Weasleys there, but Cedric Diggory, Oliver Wood, Ernie Macmillan, and Dean Thomas and his close friend, Seamus Finnigan. Neville Longbottom was now happily engaged to Luna Lovegood.

As much as Y/n put on a front, being surrounded by men, some of which were years older, was intimidating. She flirted and blushed and acted like a lady, but when Seamus Finnigan talked to Cedric Diggory about the growth of their family’s crops, talking around Y/n as Oliver Wood tried to entertain her with polo facts, she felt useless. Bored. Like a prop to be placed on someone’s arm.

That’s when Mattheo Riddle walked in. He stayed on the outskirts of the party for a long while, observing. He didn’t hide the fact that he was watching Y/n’s attention be snapped up by suitor after suitor. His eyes were already on hers whenever she glanced up to him. It was a dangerous game he was playing, but one he didn’t want to quit. Maybe this was what had drawn him to this little county in the countryside. Maybe Draco’s letter of invitation wasn’t all for naught. It couldn’t be, not when her eyes made him feel more alive than ever before. Mattheo Riddle made a promise to himself, then and there, as he watched the seven suitors surrounding Y/n. He would marry that girl.

Only a few minutes later did Ernie Macmillan chuckle in disbelief. “Is that Mattheo Riddle?” he asked. Y/n let the other men answer, for fear of sounding as if she had been gazing at the forbidden man. Which, if her father asked, she had not.

“Sir!” Seamus Finnigan called out from where he was lounging on the couch. His arm hung over the back of Y/n’s chair, something he found courage to do with the whiskey flowing through his veins. “Come join us, I beg you.”

Mattheo quirked a brow but strode over from where he was leaning against the wall. “Gentlemen,” he greeted smoothly. “How are you all this fine day?” He shook hands with each man. It was only then he allowed his eyes to settle on Y/n. “Ah, my dear Miss Y/n.” Her eyes watched the way his lip curved into a smile. “It’s lovely to see you here.” He took her hand in his and brushed her knuckles to his lips. It took all of Y/n’s restraint not to take in a shaky breath.

“Why, this is her party, after all,” Fred Weasley said, smirking. “Why wouldn’t she be here?”

“Mr. Weasley.” Mattheo turned to the man. “Perhaps if you had paid attention to my words, I never said I was surprised to see her, only delighted. And I can assure you, I am very delighted.” George Weasley snickered and clapped his twin on the shoulder. Fred just glared at the Riddle heir.

Mattheo sat down on the ottoman by Y/n’s feet, posture straight and perfect. An electrifying shiver ran down his spine as Y/n asked how he was. “Splendid,” he told her. “After all, I am in your presence. Darling, if any of these men told you they were less than splendid, I’ll offer to kick them to the street at your command.” The suitors chuckled at the joke, but Mattheo just held his future wife’s gaze. They both knew he meant every word.

Oliver Wood shook his head. “I still can’t believe I have the honour to meet the Mattheo Riddle. From all the rumours, I thought you were surely a ghost story.”

“I hate to disappoint,” came the easy reply.

“No, no disappointment here.” Oliver held up his hands. “Just surprise. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Mattheo stared down the man. “Why wouldn’t I be here?”

Oliver stammered out, “well, because people see you as- as well, good sir, I needn’t offend, but-”

“Cruel?” Mattheo supplied. After the awkward glances were exchanged between the suitors, he continued, “Unwanted? Cynical, unfeeling, only out for himself and his riches? Well, I can’t say you’re wrong,” he said simply. “I’ve done unhonourable things and I’ve lived my life for my own gain. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings. Or that I can’t love,” he finished, eyes on Y/n.

She shifted under his stare and opened her fan to hide her blush. “I may go lay down,” she whispered out. The seven men around her began to protest, but Mr. Riddle simply held his hand out for her to take. He helped her stand and then bid her farewell. He settled back onto the ottoman to which the other men glared at him.

“Why can’t you corrupt some other girl?” Ernie Macmillan grumbled into his whiskey glass that he took a long swallow of. The other suitors seemed to deflate as well, now calling for more alcohol, slouching in their seats, and using more vulgar language. It was only Mattheo Riddle that kept his posture, his little cup of whiskey, and preserved tone. But even he felt a flare of anger at Mr. Macmillan’s words. “Take another girl for your wife. But leave this one for the rest of us. Why do you suddenly have a claim over her?”

“Another girl, you say?” Mattheo repeated, voice low and protective. “Take another one for my wife and leave her for the rest of you? Is that what you think I want? To just take any girl as my wife? No,” he stated, plain and simple, “I want her and only her. And why do I have a sudden claim over her? I don’t. And do not mistake her for a girl, Macmillan. She is a fierce woman, one none of you boys could handle. But perhaps… Perhaps I have fallen in love with her. Against all reason and sanity,” he added in a mutter, taking a swig of whiskey.

“But it’s foolish!” Fred Weasley exclaimed as all other men were stunned to silence. “You- you’ve only met the girl – pardon, woman – once. More than two months ago. And serving my memory, you never even talked to the Miss.” Fred’s memory didn’t have all the facts, as Mr. Riddle had met Y/n twice and had talked to her on both occasions.

Mattheo shot back, “love often makes us do foolish things, does it not? And I’m willing to be a fool for her, if that’s what it takes.”

Cedric Diggory studied Mattheo for a moment before musing, “you’re an admirable man, Mr. Riddle. But you must know I, along with the rest of these men, will still fight for her hand. And we have an advantage: her father’s approval.”

“What does her father’s approval mean if you don’t have her heart?” Mattheo asked. “If she doesn’t love you, what good does it do?”

“Well, does she love you?” Seamus Finnigan implored, trying to turn the tables on the man.

At that, Mr. Riddle rested his weight on the palm of his hand, leaning back. Even though his face was collected, a brush of pain swept over his heart, knowing the answer was uncertain. “Does she love me?” he echoed, tone soft. “I hope so.” He knew when it was best to shut up, so he didn’t say what he really wanted to; she hasn’t said the words, but I see it in her eyes. I see the fire in her, the same fire that burns within me. “You may think it hopeless,” he observed, looking at the other men. “That it’s foolish, believing she could return my love. Call me a fool, then. But I know what I feel, and I won’t give up on her, no matter how hopeless it may seem.”

Y/n had made it a habit of sitting outside, in case Mattheo Riddle came riding by again. Her efforts weren’t in vain, for a couple days later, his horse trotted up.

The coy look on his face showed he was feeling sly and quick-witted that day. He would make Y/n vie for his affections, no doubt in her mind. He dismounted with a flourish and a smirk, his coattails flipping out behind him. “Ah, my dear Miss L/n,” he called out, his voice carrying mischief. “I hope I find you well today!”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you call me by my last name,” Y/n replied, setting her book down. “‘Miss Y/n’, or perchance ‘dear’ or ‘darling’, but never Miss L/n.”

“Hmm, my apologies, my dear,” he said as he strode up towards her, mock formality in his voice. “I suppose I’ve become accustomed to calling you by your given name. But I do like the sound of ‘Miss L/n’ as well. It has a certain… ring to it.” He took a seat on the rocking chair next to her and studied her book. “Never thought you the type to read Hunchback of Notre Dame.”

“It’s a love story,” Y/n defended.

“It most certainly is not,” Mattheo chuckled. “You’ve read it before, I assume?”

Y/n huffed. Why she continued to entertain Mr. Riddle was beyond her. “His devotion is clear. And yes, I have. Anyway, before you so very rudely interrupted me, I was going to say I thought you would detest my last name.”

Mattheo clicked his tongue and leaned back in his chair. “There isn’t much I could detest when it comes to you,” he admitted, glancing over slyly at her.

“How sweet.” Y/n rolled her eyes sardonically, but couldn’t help but smile. She added after a moment, “though I still thought you would dislike it.”

He shot her a lazy smile. He hadn’t felt this relaxed in a long time, looking out over her family’s lands. “And why would I dislike it, my darling?”

Y/n let out a soft, mischievous laugh. “Well, I thought surely you’d want to change it.”

“Change it, darling?” Mattheo raised a brow. “Pray tell, what would I change it to?”

Her eyes travelled to the sky, for if Y/n was to look at Mr. Riddle, her gaze would be transfixed on his lips. She swallowed and said slowly, “something that sounds like yours?”

Mattheo’s stare snapped towards her. “Are you suggesting what I think you are?” he murmured in a soft tone.

Ever playing coquettish, the woman responded, “what do you think I’m suggesting?”

Mattheo leaned in a bit closer, his heart beating faster at the notion he was about to say. “I think you’re suggesting you’d like to carry the Riddle surname, my darling,” he replied. “Is that what you’re implying?”

“Perhaps,” Y/n forced out after a short silence.

“And here I thought you thought me brutish and sordid.” When Y/n didn’t answer, an embarrassed flush on her cheek, he said in a quiet voice, “you know, if you enjoy Hunchback, you should see Notre Dame in person. Paris is lovely. We should go sometime.” He crossed one leg over the other and turned his attention back towards the horizon.

Y/n’s lips curved into a small smile. “I would like that.”

“Of course,” Mattheo added, clearing his throat, “if you’re still hung up on Mr. Potter, then you should probably go with him.”

Why, Y/n hadn’t thought about Harry once in the past weeks. How peculiar. And based on the little smirk on Mattheo’s face, he knew it. “I don’t think Harry and I were the right fit,” she said eventually.

“Oh?”

“No,” she mused. “It’s frustrating, yes? You think you have your whole life planned ahead and then… it gets ripped away from you.”

“Or maybe it’s just getting started,” Mattheo muttered. “Your life, I mean. You’re young, Y/n. And Harry Potter shouldn’t dictate whether or not your life has started or ended.”

“I’m not getting any younger,” Y/n complained. “Father wants to marry me off to a good, wealthy man before I turn twenty-five. I thought with Harry, I could get some love out of it as well.”

Mattheo asked honestly, “would it matter if you loved your husband if your husband loved you with everything in him?”

Y/n’s fingers fiddled with the pages of her book. “I think if someone loved me that much,” she whispered, “it would be impossible not to love him back.”

Mattheo felt his hand twitch as he looked down at her fingers. Slowly, he reached out to encircle her palm in his. His warm hand held hers loosely, so that Y/n could pull away if she wished, but just firmly enough that she could sense his devotion.

“Why… why are you doing this?” Y/n asked.

“The truth?” Once Y/n nodded, he continued, “I see the fire in you… The same fire that burns in me. Well, that used to burn in me.” Mattheo paused. “I’m sure you know of my father. I hated the man, and am ashamed to call him a father. But, even so, after he died, I’ve felt… stuck, Y/n. If we’re to keep with the fire analogy, I fizzled out. Yet with you…” he chuckled and shook his head. “Well, I’m sure you know where I’m going with this.”

“So what do you want me to do?” Y/n whispered. “Is this you proposing marriage, Mr. Riddle?” She smirked, even though her heart began beating a bit more quickly.

When Mattheo shook his head, she couldn't help but feel just a little bit disappointed. “No, that’s much too soon for you. Maybe in two or three years. But…” he threw her a wry grin, squeezing her hand lightly. “This is me proposing I begin courting you.”

“What?” Her hand flexed around his. “Really?”

“You can trust me.”

Four years later, because Y/n was notoriously stubborn when it came to her beau, Mattheo Riddle got down on one knee. “My darling dear,” he teased, using the nicknames he knew she hated. Y/n rolled her eyes in response. “You have made me wait what seems like millennia to finally officially call you mine. Of course, I’d wait aeons more, but I’m hoping that today, you’ll put me out of my misery and give me the honour of being your husband.”

“You’ll take me to Paris for the honeymoon?” Y/n asked, despite the tears shining in her eyes.

Mattheo let out a loud, joyful laugh. “Yes, yes I will.” And as he slid the ring on her finger, he murmured, “you can trust me.”

“I always have.”

[weasleyreidstyles]

Serendipity

chapter one

summary: it was only meant to be a purely transactional relationship. he would help her strengthen her abilities in return for her getting his friends out of his father's nasty path. he didn't mean to fall for her, but loving her was the easiest thing in his dark world.

no use of y/n, but your general nickname is Meadow. All characters are aged up to be over 18.

pairings: mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw reader; platonic!slytherins x fem!reader; platonic!golden trio x fem!reader

warning(s): none

series masterlist; next part

The atmosphere surrounding the students on the Hogwarts Express differed massively in comparison to your fifth year last year, when everyone was wholly against Harry. Now, however, people whispered in their compartments about how he was right, the Dark Lord had returned. How everything was changing, especially with the rising death toll, wizard and muggle combined.

You were walking to the designated Prefect's compartment, which sat in the middle of the train, with Hermione at your side, your blue and bronze tie clashing with her burgundy and gold one. Your presence at the Ministry that summer prompted the two of you to be topics of few conversations, you sent glares their way.

"What do you think will happen this year?" the Gryffindor girl asked as you both made your way through the throngs of students in the hallway.

"Considering we almost died in June?" you say, a frown painting your face as your mind brings you back to your traumatic time in the Department of Mysteries to aid Harry in saving (and failing to do so) his Godfather. "We'll probably face certain death this year, Mione."

Hermione swatted your arm in feined annoyance at your attempt of a joke. "Don't put that thought into existence Meadow."

You only shrugged as you held the compartment door open for her. Ron was already waiting inside, glaring at Theodore Nott and Pansy Parkinson, who were sat diagonally across from him.

Unlike your Gryffindor companions, you had no issues with the two snakes, in fact they were two people you would consider your closest friends, if it wasn't for the prejudice that went both ways – from your friends and some of their's.

"Stop glaring holes into the sides of their heads, Ron." you scold. "I've told you before, they're my friends. They won't do anything to you."

He said nothing, but he did stop his glaring in favour of greeting the two of you.

The Prefect meeting went on for over an hour and you found yourself zoning out multiple times.

You're going to miss out on important information if you keep daydreaming, tesoro. Theodore. You admired that he was as talented as he was, but it was annoying when he would invade your thoughts. You narrowed your eyes at him.

Stay out of my head, Teddy.

But it's so fun, and so easy. He smirked and turned his attention back to the Head Boy, who was busy assigning roles to the new fifth year prefects. Pansy nudged Theo's arm, breaking his concentration, as she was obviously using her own legillimens ability to berate him. She offered you a smile in apology, which you returned with one of your own.

You'd taken to learning legillimens at the start of fifth year, having read about it in a book you'd taken from the restricted section of the Hogwarts library. You also wanted to protect your mind, especially with the knowledge that Voldemort was back after Harry had returned with Cedric Diggory's dead body at the end of your fourth year.

"Now onto you sixth years." the Head Girl announced. "Like last year, you're going to be paired off for nightly patrols."

She began pairing you off one by one. Hermione was with Ernie Macmillan; Ron was paired with Hannah Abbot; Pansy with your Ravenclaw counterpart and Theodore was paired with you. She then paired off the seventh year prefects before the Head Boy dismissed you all.

~∞~

Ron yawned as he stepped into the corridor. "Thank Merlin that's over. I'm starving."

"You're always hungry, Ronald." Hermione muttered as she walked out behind him, rolling her eyes at his usual ramblings, causing you to laugh at his expense.

"My my, it's a wonder why Dumbledore chose you to be a prefect with that attitude, Weasley." Theodore spoke up from behind you, Pansy at his side, once again shooting you an apologetic smile.

"Piss off, Nott." Ron snarked, turning to face your snickering Slytherin friend, about to take a step towards him when you put a hand on his chest.

"Leave it Ron. He's only trying to get a rise out of you. I'll meet you both in the compartment in a bit." you say, turning to face a smirking Theo with a berating glare.

"Wanted to get me alone, tesoro? Finally. I've waited all these years." he said with a grin, stepping towards you as your Gryffindor friends reluctantly left.

"Don't flatter yourself, Teddy." you say with an eye roll before you turned to Pansy and brought her into a hug. "I've missed you Pans. Good summer?"

"Abysmal." she muttered, sharing a not-so-subtle look with Theo. You looked between them questioningly.

"What happened?" you ask.

Exchanging glancing, they seemed to come to an agreement and Pansy grabbed your hand, dragging you into the closest empty compartment. Theo followed behind the two of you, closing the door and spelling it from unwanted listeners.

"What's with the secrecy? Guys?" you look between them growing more confused by the second.

"Before I tell you, you have to understand, I didn't have a choice, none of us did." Theo emphasises. "I consider you one of my best friends, tesoro. But what I'm about to reveal....it cannot under any circumstances leave this room."

You look at him confused, but the nagging thought that had haunted you all summer suddenly creeped up on your subconscious. Your eyes widened.

"No. Theo don't tell me-" you stutter and he looks away ashamed.

His son is my best friend. My father wants to get into his good graces, I had no choice. Even his voice in your head sounds despondent.

"Oh Teddy." you mumble, wrapping your arms around his waist, hugging him tight.

"I'm to receive the mark during the Christmas holidays." he mumbles dejectively into your hair. "Hell of a Christmas present."

"How good is your legillimens ability?" Pansy asks you. "Can you block people out."

"I have my thoughts locked away into a little mental box, but I'm still working on fully blocking people out." you say, pointedly looking up at Theo, who smiles innocently at you.

"You'll need to practice it then." she says resolutely, but the look on her face indicates nothing pleasant. "Mattheo can help you."

You scoffed. "There is no way Riddle will willingly help me. His father's biggest threat is one of my best friends."

"And you're one of our best friends, Meadow." Pansy says. "Our loyalty to eachother goes both ways. He'll help you, he's the most advanced at it, besides Snape and Dumbledore of course. Trust me."

"What about Harry?" I ask. "And Ron and Hermione, the Order. What am I meant to tell them. They won't be thrilled that I'm taking lessons from you-know-who's son."

"You'll tell them that you're tutoring Mattheo. It's a believable lie. He's shite at Ancient Runes, no matter how much I try to help him." Theo says, nodding his head as a plan forms in his mind. That was true. You don't know how Riddle was still enrolled in that class. "We've already discussed this becoming a possibility. He's more than willing."

"Why are you trusting me with this?" you question, staring between your two friends.

"Like it or not, you're our one way ticket to the right side of this war, tesoro. You know as well as I do that Potter needs as much help as he can get. And you need to protect your mind so that the Dark Lord can't get into your head." Theo says.

"So are you in?" Pansy asks as she heads towards the door. "Because there's no backing out from here, and I really don't want to obliviate one of my dearest friends."

You know the risks. You don't know what this will mean for your current friendships. But you know that Theodore is right. To help Harry, he'll need as much help as possible. Having Theo and Pansy on your side could be a turning point in this brewing war.

"I'm in." you say, nodding your head in agreement. "Just keep the snarky comments to a minimum about Ron, Mione and Harry, please. And relay that message to the rest of your friends too."

"Already done, tesoro." Theo says, ruffling your hair, grinning when you swat his hand away.

You question what he means for a moment when the back of your skull begins to burn with a dull ache. You cradle the back of your neck with your hand, wincing at the sting as Mattheo's deep, raspy voice fills every corner of your mind.

Lessons start tomorrow night, Princess. Don't be late.

He was already in your head, you sighed. It was going to be a long year.

~∞~

You reached the compartment that your other friends occupied at the same time that Harry and Neville seemed to be leaving it.

"Where are you two off to?" you ask as the two boys move away from the open doorway.

"To meet Professor Slughorn." Neville said, although he looked a mixure of nervous and confused.

"Who the hell is that?" you look at Hermione as you go inside, leaving Harry and Neville on their venture.

"New Professor, apparently." she replied. "What took you so long?"

You knew that your friends, minus maybe Harry, had little to no legillimens skills, but nevertheless, you cleared your mind of the conversation you'd had with Theo and Pansy.

"Well Pansy likes a gossip." you said flipantly as you pulled out a book from your never ending bag. "How else are we to know everything that goes on outside of our little circle, now that Lee Jordan is no longer in school?"

Ron and Hermione smile at that, before Ron's face drops.

"Listen, be careful around them this year, yeah." he said, his voice low. "We went to see Fred and George's new shop and watched Malfoy go into Borgin and Burke's with a bunch of known Death Eaters."

Your heart dropped. Theo would be participating in those meeting come Christmas time. That must mean that Draco was already involved.

"Well you know what sort of things they sell there." you say hesitantly. "It probably doesn't mean anything."

Hermione scoffed. "Try telling that to Harry. I think he's convinced that Draco and Riddle have been inducted."

You fall silent shortly after that. The conversation only picking up again when Neville came back to the compartment, Ginny following behind him.

Harry was nowhere in sight.

~∞~

Harry was awol for the rest of the trainride.

When the Hogwarts Express pulled to a stop in Hogsmeade station and you all found a carriage to settle in, he still wasn't there.

"Where on Earth is he?" Mione muttered as the thestrals, that were no longer invisible to you all after Sirius' death, pulled onto the winding road up to the castle.

"He's probably already in a carriage and didn't wait for us. Wouldn't be the first time." Ron assured, although his face betrayed his words as he looked as worried as you and Hermione.

You were unconvinced, and more so when you split off towards the Ravenclaw table when the three of you arrived to the Great Hall and saw, not to your surprise, Mattheo Riddle with bloody and bruised knuckles. As you sat beside Luna Lovegood you felt that same prickling sensation that you did on the train. He was watching you, and he continued to watch you with his cold, unbothered stare through the sorting ceremony and Dumbledore's speech.

Your attention was brought to the doors of the Great Hall where Harry seemed to materialise, Snape's looming figure behind him. But what you noticed the most in the bright glow of floating candles that bothered you more than his lack of punctuality, was the bloody tissue he was dabbing at his recently-fixed broken nose, which he did not have when you last saw him hours earlier.

People stared and whispered as he made his way to where Ron and Hermione were sitting. But your attention was pulled to where Crabbe and Goyle were sat snickering from their seats beside Draco. You narrowed your eyes at Riddle, who was still looking at you.

Got a staring problem, Princess?

Merlin he infuriated you. You focused on him as you thought of your response.

Did you do that to his face?

He smirked. Did I do what?

You didn't give him a response, instead turning your attention to Theo, who was chatting to Lorenzo Berkshire. Did Riddle do that to Harry? You asked and you watched as Theo startled before maintaining the same facade of conversation.

No. It was Draco. Harry was eavesdropping his conversation with Blaise. Matt was with me and Enzo.

Your question was answered, but you were still left unsatisfied. And Riddle's stare had not faltered, which added to your growing bad mood.

Stop fucking staring at me, Riddle. And stay out of my head.

He smirked wickedly and finally looked away, taking the prickling sensation along with him.

~∞~

first post on tumblr after lurking for a year 🫢

i've been a little hyperfixated on the slytherin boys (particularly theo and mattheo) so i thought i'd try out writing a short(ish) fic, but i couldn't be bothered with wattpad (i'm procrastinating finishing a fic on there lol)

i'm also writing this instead of finishing uni assignments that are literally due at the end of the week whoops

[isaacarellanesismyhusband]

so… what’s your deal?

pair: Draco Malfoy x reader

requested by anonymous

Something I've been thinking a lot about as of late is Draco with a punk reader. They wind up in Hufflepuff because under the mean, scary looking outer appearance, they're actually the biggest softest person in the world and undyingly loyal and yada yada, other Hufflepuff stuff. It's someone who can butt heads with Draco on a regular basis without being scared off from doing so [maybe they're even someone who scares him a little bit]. It just plagues my mind without going much further than that, but it sounds like something so fun to play around with.

masterlist | navigation

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Draco wasn’t sure what to make of you. You were a Hufflepuff, but you didn’t look or act like any of the others he knew. Most days, you wore ripped jeans under your uniform, your nails painted a different dark color every week. You had this look that could make anyone back off, and more than once, he’d seen you chewing out someone in the hall who’d pushed their luck with you.

And somehow, the Sorting Hat had put you in Hufflepuff. You, with your dyed hair and sarcastic smirk, were in the same house as the kind, sunny types like Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott. It just didn’t add up.

One day after Potions, Draco ended up walking out of the classroom at the same time as you. He shot a quick look at you and caught you glancing at him.

“What are you looking at?” he sneered.

You scoffed, “Pretty sure you’re the one who was looking first, Malfoy. Stop staring, it’s weird.”

Draco blinked, caught off guard. He didn’t expect you to snap back so quickly. Most people—especially non-Slytherins—tended to keep their heads down around him. He rolled his eyes, though, putting up his usual mask.

“Right, because I’d be interested in whatever… thing you’ve got going on there,” he shot back, gesturing vaguely to your clothes.

Instead of getting offended, you just laughed, and it caught him off guard again. “You say that like it doesn’t bother you that I exist, but I know it does. You’re terrified of me, aren’t you, Malfoy?”

Draco’s mouth dropped open. Terrified? Of you?

“You’re insane,” he scoffed, crossing his arms to cover the fact that his heart had picked up a bit. “I’m not afraid of you.”

“Oh really?” You stepped closer, peering up at him with an eyebrow raised. “You sure about that? Because you look a little… rattled.”

Draco fought the urge to step back, meeting your gaze and trying to keep his composure. “Whatever. Just stay out of my way.”

But the next day in Potions, he found himself glancing over at you again. You had your face all screwed up in concentration, taking extra care with whatever assignment Professor Snape had given you. And the way you were so focused, so careful, caught his attention.

It happened again and again—he’d see you doing these little things that didn’t match up with the tough image you put on. Helping someone who dropped their books, sticking up for a first-year who was getting picked on. And as much as he hated to admit it, he found himself almost… admiring that about you.

You didn’t care what people thought. You didn’t back down. And you never changed, no matter who tried to make you.

Eventually, Draco couldn’t help himself. After class one day, he walked up to you. “So… what’s your deal?”

“My deal?” you asked, a bit amused.

“Yeah, you’re… confusing.”

You laughed, and it was this big, genuine laugh that made his cheeks heat up a little. “Draco Malfoy, confused? Never thought I’d see the day. Look, if you can’t figure it out, maybe you don’t need to.”

And with that, you gave him a little pat on the shoulder and walked away, leaving him standing there in complete confusion—his heart racing a little too fast for comfort.

[dhr-ao3]

Hello Dear

Hello Dear https://ift.tt/ntW9MI2 by lxgwriters "Parkinson, I can't hold it in any longer." "Nott, just say you want me." Never in a million years would we would yearn for one another. But the stakes are high. Our 6th year at Hogwarts had just begun and we knew what fate was planning for us. As a silent war brews, we may just use each other for a pleasure we couldn't say "no" to. a Pansy Parkinson x Theodore Nott fanfic all rights regarding the wizarding world go to J. K. Rowling Words: 5838, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Categories: F/M, M/M Characters: Regulus Black, Kingsley Shacklebolt Relationships: Theodore Nott/Pansy Parkinson, Draco Malfoy/Pansy Parkinson, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Daphne Greengrass/Harry Potter, Michael Corner/Blaise Zabini, Ernie Macmillan/Blaise Zabini Additional Tags: fast burn, then slow burn, Betrayal, Even More Betrayal, so much betrayal that it hurts, enemies to lovers to enemies to lovers to strangers, ill just give you the whole plotline in the tags, Evil laugh, right person wrong time, maybe we'll meet again in another lifetime, hahah, I promise theo actually gets a happily ever after, You just gotta be patient, call the ward we got a mentally ill person on the loose, its mental illness innit, im not sane, smut obv, im not a prude via AO3 works tagged 'Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy' https://ift.tt/XZx3q9S March 31, 2024 at 05:30AM

[morganadpl]

Another Heir - Chapter 2

Draco Malfoy x Ravenclaw

I do not own Harry Potter story or characters

Warnings : Spoilers

enjoy your reading

Can't sleep either ?

After long hours on the train, talking, sleeping, and laughing, the students finally made their way to the castle, expecting nothing less than a beautiful dinner and a long night's sleep.

Helena, Lena, and Neville headed to the stagecoaches, ready to be taken by the thestrals. Yes, the three of them could see the creatures: Lena, since her grandmother's death; Neville, since his grandfather's passing; and Helena, since she watched her father take his last breath at St Mungo's Hospital two years ago.

"Hello, old friends, how was your summer?" Helena whispered to the thestrals, petting one of them on the head. The closest one nodded in approval, and Helena smiled.

She had always been close to animals, but even closer to the ones that could fly. She admired the feeling of freedom and power that emanated from them.

"Weird, Luna is nowhere in sight," Neville said, looking around.

"She probably took another ride. Don't worry about her," Lena answered, reassuring him.

"Probably," Neville said, climbing into the stagecoach. "Let's go."

"Yes! I am starving," Helena shouted, jumping in, followed by Lena.

Everyone was sitting at their house tables. Dumbledore had given his usual speech, as had the sorting hat. Helena was looking around, trying to wave at all her friends in other houses. She saw Ginny, Hermione, and Ron, who couldn't stop eating. She also waved at Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, Justin Finch-Fletchley, and Ernie Macmillan, her Hufflepuff friends.

She kept looking around until she turned back to the Gryffindor table. To her surprise, Harry was nowhere to be found. Turning back to her own table, Luna was not there either. Where could they both be? She had definitely seen them on the train.

"Lena, I'm getting worried. Luna is not here, and, LOOK, Harry is not at his table either. Something must have happened," Helena said, gesturing towards their table and in Ron and Hermione's direction.

"Calm down. I'm sure they are fine. Maybe they needed to talk, or they wanted some time alone..." Lena answered, wiggling her eyebrows.

"Seriously? Only Harry is an idiot not to see he's been in love with a girl since second year and is not brave enough to tell her, and trust me, Luna is not that girl," Helena replied, starting to get annoyed.

"Calm down, Eagleeye. Look, both of them are here," Lena said, pointing towards the Great Hall's doors, which had just opened, revealing a bleeding Harry and a smiling Luna.

"Really, a broken nose on day one?" Helena said, looking irritated at the sight of Harry holding a tissue full of blood to his nose. She looked at him questioningly.

Harry looked up, and their eyes met. He waved his hand, indicating it was nothing to worry about. Helena rolled her eyes and turned back to Lena, who was smirking.

"I'll deal with that later. Why are you smiling like that?" Helena asked Lena.

"You say he is overprotective with you, but you are doing the exact same thing," Lena laughed.

"Shut up and eat your chocolate cake," Helena responded, smiling a little. She knew what Lena was saying was true. Harry acted like an overprotective older brother with her, but she was doing the same. It was in her nature, not only with him but with everyone she cared about.

Later that night, all the students were back in their respective dorms. Helena and Lena were sitting in the Ravenclaw common room, showered and already in their pajamas. They were going over their summer, what they expected this year, and how good it felt to be back.

"What did Blaise Zabini want on the train? You guys were gone for a while, AND I've never seen him speak to you or anyone who wasn't in Slytherin," Lena asked, leaning on the couch in front of Helena, eating some sweets.

"Well, it wasn't exactly him who wanted something; it was the new Potions teacher, Slughorn. He was telling some of us that he wanted to create some kind of club with certain students," Helena answered, looking disinterested.

She continued, "He said it was something he used to do the first time he was a professor here at Hogwarts. Harry was there, Ginny and Hermione too. I think it's more of a collection for him," she laughed.

"And how does he choose? I could be part of it... no that would be boring for me," Lena said, looking up, thinking about long meetings at the club about subjects that surely wouldn't interest her.

"I guess by the last name and maybe the grades. Most of us were from old pure-blood families, and Hermione is top of her year. Most of his old students who were in it years ago are now famous or in really good positions in their jobs. He's just extending his contacts for later," Helena explained.

"So... you're staying in it?" Lena asked.

"Why not? You know I'm pretty curious. I take it as an experience," Helena answered, smiling and already thinking of all the things she could ask him or secrets she could discover about other members of the club.

"Yes, I would say too curious for your own good," Lena replied, yawning. "Let's go to bed. We start with Transfiguration tomorrow morning," Lena said, getting up and heading to their shared dorm.

Helena followed, knowing she wouldn't sleep yet. Ever since her father passed away, nights were full of nightmares, fights, and crying... even more so after her trip to the Ministry last year with the rest of her friends. She hadn't told a soul about it; she didn't want to seem weak or have someone pity her. She climbed into her bed and stared at the ceiling, trying to think about anything but that. She thought back to Harry entering the Great Hall tonight. She would have to question him about it tomorrow.

After an hour, everyone was asleep in her dorm, but she couldn't sleep. She turned in her sheets over and over again. After turning for the hundredth time, she decided to get up and take a walk around the castle. Over her years here, she knew many beautiful places, and some of them were so beautiful at night. She loved nights; they felt good and refreshing. The light of the moon was soft, and the silence was soothing. She felt alone, but in a good way, wandering through the corridors and imagining the different students who had passed through them over the years.

She went to her favorite place, the Astronomy Tower. It was an open window to the beautiful view around the castle. Astronomy was one of her favorite classes. She couldn't help wondering, every time she looked at the sky, what could be above it. What was beyond this limit?

She spent an hour, maybe two, sitting on the edge of the barrier until it became too cold to stay outside. She got up and started walking back to her dorm. She was almost at the edge of the seventh-floor corridor when she felt like someone was behind her.

She turned and said, "Who's there?" She waited, but no answer came. "I know someone is here; I heard your steps, even though you tried to be silent," she continued, turning her head to the side, like a mother talking to her child.

Someone stepped out of the stone wall. She saw the platinum hair first, then the blue eyes, and finally his whole figure appearing in the moonlight. "What are you doing here at such a late hour?" he said, not getting too close and sounding a little irritated at not being alone at night.

"I could ask you the same thing, Draco. What are you doing here?" Helena answered, feeling relieved to see it wasn't a teacher. Draco seemed a little confused at the use of his first name. He didn't know hers, but he knew she was friends with Harry. He stared at her without answering.

"Can't sleep either?" Helena asked.

[thatravenpuffgirl]

✨ Requests are open✨

Hi everyone! I'm a new writer on Tumblr, but I wanted to let you guys know that I am taking requests for one-shots, headcanons, etc. Below are details on what characters & ships I'll write, what I will and won't write, request guidelines and stuff like that. Please read this before you request, and if you see one of my posts before this and want to make rest, I'll be linking this post to each of the other posts I make, but anyway, let's get to it.

Characters I'll write for (at the moment, I'll update this when I become more comfortable writing about other fandoms):

Harry Potter, Golden Era Characters:

Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley Ginny Weasley, Percy Weasley, Charlie Weasley, Billy Weasley, Fred and George Weasley, Lavender Brown, Cho Chang, Luna Lovegood, Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, Neville Longbottom, Susan Bones, Ernie Macmillan, Hannah Abbott, Padma Patil and Parvati Patil, Terry Boot, Colin Creevy, basically any other characters that I might have forgotten to list or minor characters.

Harry Potter, Maurders Era Characters:

young Remus lupin, young James potter, young Sirius black, young regulus black, young lily Evans, young Severus snape, young mary Macdonald, young Dorcas meadows, young Marlene Mckinnon, young pandora Lovegood, young Narissa Malfoy, young Bellatrix Lestrange, young Andromeda tonks, young molly Weasley, young Arthur Weasley, Fabien and Gideon Prewett, young Alice Longbottom, young Frank Longbottom, Fleamont Potter, Euphemia Potter, pretty much all of the Black family, and any other characters I might have again, forgotten.

Now, onto request guidelines:

I will write oneshots, headcanons (general or based on a specific prompt, like a character's hobby or relationship with another character) fluff, and angst. I can write some level of smut, but only something like making out, kissing, etc. Please don't be afraid to ask, but please don't be upset if I turn down the request, it's usually only because I'm not comfortable with writing it. I also won't write anything about rape, abuse, incest, anything that's racist, anything smutty that involves a minor and an adult, etc.

2. There are certain ships I will not write about as well, I won't list specific ones, but I will not write about ships that involve an adult and a minor, a student and a professor, polyamorous ships, etc. I get that everyone has their preferences, and that's fine, but I'm not comfortable writing those types of ships. Any other ships, though, are totally fine! I will also write platonic ships, not just romantic ships.

3. Be kind. if you don't like the request I've written, please be polite. Although I am by no means transphobic, racist, etc, I do not have much experience in writing characters that are part of the LGBTQIA+ community or characters with different cultures, and this may reflect on my writing. But, with that matter and just in general, I try my best, so I will not accept any hate on this blog, towards me or others.

4. Be patient. Please take this as a friendly remember that, like the rest of us, I do have a life, and while I'll try to get back to you on a request as soon as possible, I can not write 24/7. So please don't be offended if it takes a while for me to finish your request, I will try to finish it as quick as possible. And, please don't be offended if I choose not to write your request. There are a lot of things I really don't feel comfortable writing about, and that's okay. It's not my intention to offend you if I don't write your request, it's just my preference. And, sometimes it has nothing to do with the content of your request, but simply because I don't have the energy to write sometimes, and I just have to turn down some requests.

5. Please be detailed. This is very important! Please specify in your request, what character you want me to write about, the ship you want me to include if you just want it to be a character x y/n thing, or a nonshipping request, a clear summary of your idea, the type of writing you want it to be (headcanons, one shot, fluffy, angst etc), that type of thing. It doesn't have to be super long, just enough so I know what you actually want me to write. And please only submit your requests via my asks, not in the comments of my posts or anything like that.

And I think that's all! I really appreciate you taking the time to read this, and just an extra note, if you would like to submit anything via my asks, that's not a request, just a question or to share your own thoughts on Harry Potter, please feel free to do so! I would love to hear from you guys. Anyways, thank you again, and I look forward to you submitting any requests you might have!

[haunting-hufflepuffs-basement]

Oh, this is a QUESTION. Because EVERY character in Harry Potter has been shipped with everyone else. This fandom is fucking weird about ships. I would pay money that there's like, a Voldemort x Padma Patil fic out there someplace. But of ones I come across a lot that I viscerally hate this much:

Severus "It's been twenty years and two wars and I'm still not over Lily Evans" Snape being shipped with anyone. I think there's a good reason the Snily ship sunk and thinking about this man with anyone else is a big no for me. Like, I'd read a crackship for him (still waiting for someone to write Snape×Mundungus) but nothing that takes itself seriously, and that's just because I'll read funny crack for anything. It also doesn't help that a lot of his popular ships are children for some reason, and I don't think I need to explain why I'm not reading that.

I'll grit my teeth and put up with background Tonks x Remus if someone is writing something canon compliant, but I will not tolerate this lesbian being shipped with any other male character. Even as crack.

Sirius being in an actual relationship with people not named James or Remus. Man probably hooked up once without about a million people, but a long-term relationship? For somebody that he's not painfully codependent with? I don't think so (I'll read it as crack though).

Remus x Grant Chapman. No hate if you ship or like it, but I did not like ATYD (I quit halfway through), and I don't wanna see it in my other stuff (people don't write Remus x Grant crack so IDK what my opinions in that direction would be).

Voldemort/Tom Riddle x anybody. The whole point of the books is how he can't and doesn't love. Why would you ship him? Including with Bellatrix. Man's hubris would give the greeks a run for their money and he thinks he'll live forever. Why would he BOTHER with an heir?

This last one is soooooo niche, but Puffs the Play has permanently altered my brain chemistry to the point that I will not read anything where Ernie Macmillan and Justin Finch-Fletchley are shipped with anybody but each other. It's a hard no for me. A side of Finch and Mac forever please (not even for crack. They're already crack. I'm not gonna read worse crackships for my crack OTP).

Not here to shit on anyone who likes my disliked ships, but those are my opinions. Or at least the ones off the top of my head.

I should also probably add that any incest and age gap is off the table for obvious reasons. Absolutely not.

What is a ship, canon or fanon, you really can’t stand. You’d rather go out and talk to strangers than read one of their fanfics.

(Harry Potter Only)

[battinscn]

UNEXPECTED VISIT — muggle au! ernie macmillan x f! reader

content warning: period talk

summary: when you bleed on his sheets, ernie ensures you that it’s no trouble.

wc/ avg. reading time: 397 words/ 2 minutes

return to the ernie masterlist here

“AH SHIT,” you cursed when you suddenly jumped out of bed.

you peeled back the duvet and saw the blood tainted sheets.

you should have known better and put on a pad or tampon but the night before knowing that your cycle was due soon.

you quickly hurried to the bathroom to take a quick shower and changed your clothes before returning to the bedroom.

“psst, bubba,” you shook him lightly.

“psst, bubba,” you shook him lightly.

“huh? what?” he croaked out, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. when he blinked a few times to get his vision back, he saw you sat next to him with a worried face.

“what’s happened?” he asked as he cupped your cheek.

he then noticed a wet patch around his torso area and looked down to see the mess of red in front of him.

“i’m so sorry i stained your sheets, i’ll clean it i promise, i just need you to get up.” you teared up from embarrassment, wiping the stray tears with the back of your hand.

“baby, no, don’t cry.” ernie sat himself up and kissed the tears away, “it’s alright. all we have to do is change the sheets, no biggie.”

“i’ll go hop in the shower then i’ll help you clean okay?” ernie pressed his lips to your forehead.

you whispered an acknowledgment back as ernie got up from bed, stretching his exhausted legs and arms.

"c'mere baby," ernie lifted the duvet for you to join in him bed once you came back from putting the sheets in the washer.

"i'm so sorry about what happened, it was quite yucky and i know it isn't the best start to what was supposed to be our lie in morning." you pouted.

"don't ever apologise about your period baby, it's a natural thing and i'm more than happy to help you with it every month. it's not yucky, it just means you're perfectly healthy. you hear me baby?"

"mhm," you hummed and nodded your head, "thank you bubba, i love you."

"i love you more baby." ernie pulled you closer to him, his back to your chest, not a single centimeter of space between the two of you.

he placed his warm hands on your tummy and rubbed it comfortingly, the soothing motion putting you to sleep.

join my taglist here!

tags: @lilytoyourjames

[cherrynott]

thursdays of dark grey skies; h.p.

pairing: harry james potter x ravenclaw!fem!reader

synopse: who would have thought that one study thursday of dark grey skies could change so much?

warnings: none, just fluff

word count: 5.8k words

a/n: i’m so soft, i genuinely loved writing this. enjoy!

The sky was grey.

And it wasn't your typical is-raining-soon-light-gray type of colour, it was a dark shade of grey that stained the sky. There was no rain, there was no wind, it was just- dark. Like the night was trying to break out sooner than planned, fighting the light out of the day. For an early october thursday afternoon, the grayish weather shouldn't feel this uncommon. This captivating. But it just gave (ironically) such light to everything within the dark air reach. It was strangely so beautiful. Harry was at the library with practically everyone he knows when he looked outside of one of the windows. And when he says 'practically everyone he knows' he really means the whole castle was in there. Thursdays afternoons are homework and study afternoons. You catch up with any subject you could be behind, you finish all the work that was due friday (which happened more often than not) and your weekend would be mostly free. It was the most practical plan for the academic life of most students, as Hermoine had once said. So, the Hogwarts library was the place for the fourth day of the week. The environment created there was, to put it simply, those that made you work harder. Everyone shared the same goal; all the students from all years, all the students from all houses. Almost every table was occupied, and some even had to be conjured in the middle and left side of the room, the places that had more students. Red, yellow, green and blue were mixed around and a friendly and calm atmosphere flew above them. Despite being packed, the noise wasn't too loud. Quiet chatter and laughs could be heard, but nothing too extreme. Madame Prince had long ago quitted shushing students everytime one made any type of sound. It just felt right to be in there. Even more so when the big windows that contorned one of the sides of the enormous room showed the magical view of the dark grey sky. And because the light outside was mostly dim, candles flew all over the room to give enough light to work with. And as Harry looked around he felt content. He was seated in one of the newly conjured tables, a little to the right from the middle, so he had a pretty good view of the room in general. Ron was now discreetly discussing with a Hufflepuff named Ernie MacMillan and Seamus about the excessive amount of work Snape gives them, their potions assignment long forgotten. Fred, George and several of their other friends sat in another table close by, trying to finish their transfiguration project without the twins and Lee destroying anything. Luna was drawing, humming quietly, with Ginny reading just beside her, and Hermoine was helping Dean on the essay of History of Magic along with Daphne Greengrass from Slytherin. Harry had already finished all of his homework for this week (a first in his whole life). He had his arms crossed and leaned back on his chair, now observing the intriguing dark sky. The lazy light coming from the candles complemented beautifully the colour of the clouds. Harry would laugh and talk quietly every now and then with those around him, now being completely relaxed with the new work-free feeling that would linger for a few days. He was just back to looking at the window again when something caught his eye. In the very far corner of the library, on the right side of the room, was someone writing calmly in a piece of parchment with some books laying around. And after a few seconds, Harry recognised the person; it was you. You hadn't talked much in your past school years. Truth to be told, it wasn’t that common for Gryffindor's and Ravenclaw's to have classes together, so it all depended on your social luck to befriend one another. But Harry did know who you were. You were in the same year as him, obviously sorted into Ravenclaw, and basically the most beautiful girl Harry has ever seen. Your hair seemed slightly darker because of the light, but your eyes were shining like the little fire of the candles floating around was being reflected within them, and your cute nose was scrunched up ever the slightest in concentration. He then noticed that your legs were crossed beneath you and your feet would sometimes wigle. Not wanting to seem like a creep, Harry teared his eyes from the adorable girl, looking down at his table with a small grin plastered on his features. "She is the cutest, isn't she? " Hermoine said, nudging Harry with a knowing smirk on her face. "What? " Harry snapped his head at his best friend's direction (almost breaking his neck I'm the process), eyes widening. "Y/N. I study with her sometimes. Love her, " now she was just shamelessly messing with him. "Who does Hermoine love? " questioned Ron from the other side of the table, his eyebrows raised as he looked around. "Ron no-" "Y/N. Harry was staring at her. Someone has a crush, " Dean responded with a sing-like voice and a huge grin. The mouth of the boy in question was hanging open by now. "Harry has a crush on who?! " Fred Weasley exclaimed a little too loudly, attracting the attention of almost everyone at their tables. "Shush! " hissed Madame Prince from afar. Harry sighed and banged his head on the table. He really should get new friends. "That Ravenclaw girl! Harry always gushes about her when we get out of DADA with Ravenclaw, " Seamus laughed. "That is so adorable! Ah, young love..." George squealed. Harry tried to go under the table and hide but Hermoine pulled him back almost immediately, making the bespectacled boy scowl. "Don't you guys have any other stuff to do that doesn't concern my love life?" Harry exclaimed indignantly, earning yet another reprimand from Madame Prince. "You're just salty because you know how many guys and girls have their eyes on Y/L/N, " muttered a smirking Ron. "Why won't you talk to her, Harry? " asked Neville rather innocently. Harry looked at you again. Why wouldn't he talk to her? Well, because first- he was awkward; second- what if you didn't want to talk to him?; and third- what would he even say? You continued to write calmly, almost lazily, over the piece of parchment. Harry noted that your hair continued slightly darker, your eyes still shiny, your nose still a little scrunched up, and your feet would still wigle sometimes. And just like that Harry had a small grin again, completely forgetting all about the pairs of eyes on him. "Completely whipped, " whispered Dean to Hermoine. Eventually, they all went back to their tasks, leaving Harry once again alone with his thoughts while looking out of the window. Harry wanted to meet you. He wanted to know your likes and dislikes, what you do when you're anxious or stressed, and find out if you always wiggle your feet when you're sitting. He wanted to know if you were just as attracted to this type of weather as Harry was, or if you preferred sunny days. So, with all of his Griffindor's courage he could gather, he stood up. Harry firstly took off his robes, which were starting to get uncomfortable for a while now, and rolled the sleeves of his white shirt up to his elbows. His clothes were a hot mess (quite literally); his vibrant red tie was loose on his neck and his shirt was ruffled, the top of it unbuttoned, as Harry always felt claustrophobic when clothes were too tight on him, and one of the sides of the shirt practically untucked from his black trousers. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to tidy it up a little, but the raven black locks stayed as messy as ever. He then adjusted his black rimmed new glasses, oblivious as ever from the intense stares of the boys and girls that were close enough to see the green eyed boy. Taking a deep breath, he started his way towards you. "Hi, " Harry said hesitantly, looking down at you. When you looked up, your heart race picked up significantly . The boy was none other than Harry James Potter. Harry, the cutest and the most adorable boy to ever exist (and one of the hottest, to be honest). You felt a strange tingling sensation in your belly as you took in the careless situation his white shirt was in, his loose tie, the rolled up sleeves, and his messy hair. You also noted that Harry had new glasses. His cheeks were a little flushed, and he was biting his lower lip. If possible, your heart started to beat even faster and you were sure your cheeks were no better than Harry's. Harry, unsurprisingly, didn't really notice that you were practically checking him out, thanks to his nerves, and took your silence the wrong way and panicked. "I'm sorry, It's just that I saw you here alone, and you're really pretty- I mean! The tables's pretty! Yes, very nice strong shiny wood, such a good table, really. " You blinked at him. "And the sofa. Must be so so comfortable this sofa. I see why you like it; it's big and warm and it seems like a really good place to take a nap, " Harry continued his ramble, apparently not being able to stop, and getting more nervous and flustered as he talked. He could just feel the group's hysterics from behind; Ron's uncontrollable laughter and Dean's wheeze, Neville's uncertain thumbs up and Seamus smirk. Harry was pretty sure that Hermoine was facepalming and he was terrified of all the teasing from the twins and Ginny he would have to endure once this nightmare was over. He didn’t even want to imagine what his friends and classmates from the other houses were thinking (probably that his awkwardness was too embarrassing and that they would have a good laugh when telling their own other friends, but it didn't matter). "I'm sorry, I'm just going to go– " Harry started to turn around when a hand stopped him. "No! No, I'm sorry, I was just surprised, " you interrupted, quickly standing up and grabbing Harry's arm, pushing him back. Your hand continued to gently grab his wrist, getting unconsciously closer to his hand at each passing second. Your noses were just a few inches apart as well as your bodies, aching to get just a little bit closer. Harry was sure that his heart had exploded by now and he was just a very alive magical breathing zombie, while you feared that your legs were losing its strength and energy. Harry's hand wanted to touch your waist, but it refrained from doing so, fearing that you wouldn't be comfortable with it. "Besides, I wouldn't want to destroy your dreams and not invite you to sit on this really good sofa. " Harry was stunned for a moment at your unexpected teasing and then laughed the most quietly he could, remembering that you were still at the library with hundreds of other students. And with the help of your shy smile and warmth, as well as the calm environment they were in, Harry started to relax, the bad nervous and insecure feeling slipping away. "I'm Harry, " he breathed. You were still close to him. Almost too close. "Y/N, " you answered just the same, glancing up at his handsome face with a, in Harry's most unbiased opinion, precious small grin. After a few seconds of staring at each other, you both pull slightly apart and sit down on the sofa. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, Mr. Potter?" you joked, leaning back to the corner of the sofa, trying to keep your nerves in check. "Well, maybe the infernal teasing from my idiots of friends back there? And you seemed like good company, " Harry responded, leaning back too, turning his head so he could see you. "I'm flattered, but they seem so much fun," you wondered. "Hm, they are. For the majority of time at least. " You turned momentarily your eyes to the parchment over the table. You were writing next week's assignment for History of Magic (you convinced Professor Binn to tell you beforehand) but now you wanted to take a break. You wanted to enjoy Harry's company while it lasted. "How come you're not working or studying? It must be a first in study thursday, " you asked, looking at Harry again, just to see that his eyes were already on you. "For the first time in my life, I'm not behind anything, and already finished my potions assignment with Hermoine's help... So I was just there looking at the window and, well, you know the rest, " said Harry. The big window came all the way down to the far corner Harry and you were in. The new duo was tucked in the corner of the sofa, and had the most perfect view to the outside. You had her back almost turned completely to the window and the wall that met just behind the pillows laying around over the dark red velvet sofa. Harry now noticed that there was a huge red and black squared blanket folded between the cushions and your robes, which looked like they were thrown rather clumsily aside. "How come I've never seen this place? It's way bigger and comfier than the other sofas and tables in here, " Harry frowned. The naps he could have had in here, hiding from Hermoine when she went crazy. You laughed lightly. "Madame Prince is a family friend, so she arranged this place when I came here. Which is more often than not... " you trailed off, noticing Harry puppy's eyes directed at the cushions and her blanket. "Honestly, what is your problem with furniture? Do you fall in love with it every time you see it? " you asked, amusement lacing your voice. Harry snapped his head back at you. "What?! No! " he exclaimed, a little embarrassed. "But this sofa really is the best, truly. I think you'll have a hard time getting rid of me now, " Harry grinned, adjusting his glasses. You had to almost physically stop yourself from fawning over the bewitching boy. "Well, you are now welcome everytime. I could use some company, " you said, feeling giddy. You smiled at each other. "Even if you only come here because of the strong and shiny wood table and the really good sofa and pillows. " "Y/N!" . You and Harry spent the next hour and a half talking and laughing (mostly quietly) with one another. You were just so happy with one another that you didn't want the day to end, afraid that your bond would suddenly disappear. You eventually opened your blanket because it was starting to get too chilly in the library to ignore, even with the flaming fireplaces. The two of you were now tucked in in the blanket, leaning against the many cushions against the line where the window and the wall would meet. Your shoulders, legs and arms were brushing under it, but neither of you made a single move to change that. The room was still packed, seeing that it was still technically early, but not for much longer, as dinner time was slowly approaching. "I absolutely love this weather. It's even more magical than Hogwarts itself," Harry sighed. "Didn't know Potter boy had now become weather boy, " you giggled. "Oh, fuck off, " he laughed, nudging your shoulder with his. "But really, I just love it. I think this dark grayish colour is my new favourite. Just after the colour of your eyes, of course, " Harry grinned. "Oh my, someone save me from this corny weather boy, please!" you mumbled dramatically. "But, honestly, it's my favourite too. I'm really hoping for it to rain tonight."  "Yeah, me too. It's one of the best feelings ever, " Harry said foundly. You frowned. "It's just so pretty. I don’t understand how some people don't like it." "Well, not everyone can have good taste, Y/N. Imagine if everybody liked treacle tart? A total tragedy, " Harry sighed in content, imagining one piece of his favourite dessert. He then pouted. "Now I'm hungry. Thank you very much, Y/L/N. " You laughed. You sure seemed to do that a lot with Harry around, and the butterflies in your belly were still yet to fly away. "It's almost dinner time, anyway. So don't worry much, I'll save you one tart when we get there, " you rolled your eyes. Harry's face fell, and he looked at the rest of the library. There was more noise now, almost everyone was exiting the room or cleaning their things up, heading towards the Great Hall. His friends were still at his previous table, some getting up and stretching (Harry could almost swear he heard Dean's back crack all the way to where he was sitting with you) and others making sure everything was in place. "Already?" He asked in a small voice, making you freak out over how cute the boy looked at the moment. Harry's eyebrows were furred and his pout grew even bigger. His pupils were so dilated that you almost couldn't see his green irises. He was sad and disappointed that he had to leave you and your spot, and you couldn't help but feel giddy at the thought. "Harry, " you called with your eyebrows raised, a smirk plastered on your face, "As much as your lost little puppy face amuses me, we should get going. I too want treacle tart, so let's go, " you teased, starting to put everything in your navy blue bag. "But Y/NNN, " Harry whined, dragging your name. "I am so comfortable right now. Don't want to get up. " "Are you always this dramatic?" you asked, crossing your arms. Harry gave you a lopsided grin, "Did you know that they say that my dad and Padfoot were total drama queens? Must be the genes." You cackled. You weren't even really sure of what, or who he was talking about but it didn't make it less funny. You pushed him off the sofa, yanking the blanket from him and shoving it into your bag, ignoring his protests. You swung your bag over one shoulder and looked up at Harry. "Ready?" Harry mumbled, "Could've at least let me keep the blanket..." You started to walk away, shaking your head, and Harry quickly followed you. "Honestly, Potter, we don't have all night!" "Hey- wait f'me!" Harry exclaimed, hurring to get to you. You just giggled in response, and the two of you made your way to the Great Hall. . Both you and Harry had to endure much teasing and many questions from their respective friends. Harry had his face hidden in his hands, wanting to evaporate out of there. You would play with your rings and roll your eyes at any stupid question. You rolled your eyes quite often. After the initial shock, the whispers and glances had started, annoying you profusely. Can't people just mind their own business? you thought.

Harry wanted to hide under the table, and he had now decided that he should really really really get new friends. Fortunately, the curious stares (at least the obvious ones) eventually stopped. Harry caught your eyes a few times and he made a silly face everytime that happened. You replied every time with another one, enjoying your new 'game'. When the desserts started to appear on the tables, you immediately took two pieces of one of the treacle tarts and lifted your plate excitedly as soon as you and Harry made eye contact again. Harry smirked, and lifted his own plate, showing you three pieces there.

One for you and two for me! he mouthed. You bursted out laughing, shaking your head and shoved a bit of the sweet into your mouth. As for Harry, treacle tarts never tasted better. But this didn't go unnoticed. Especially not the teachers table. Professor Flitwick started a whole bank of bets about his new pair; he and Fred and George Weasley would associate soon enough. "I just know they will be together by January,"  he whispered to himself. "Oh, don't be ridiculous, Filius. Christmas is their time, believe me," answered Professor McGonagall, having heard him clearly even over the room's noise. "February, " piped in Dumbledoor dreamily. "Or never, " grumbled Snape. Professor Sprout threw her water at him. Not long after dinner time had ended, the students went to their respective common room. You and Harry met at the bottom of one of the moving stairs, trying to get ready to go your own way. Ron, Hermoine and a few others waited for him a little far away, not wanting to wait for the teasing to continue. Awkward and flustered Harry was one of their favourites. "Well... I guess I'll see you around," you said, adjusting your bag while looking up at the fidgeting boy. "Yeah..." Harry trailed off, glancing around. He was hitting himself internally for being so lame. "Harry. " you called, lifting your hand to Harry's face so he would face her, thanking everything you knew for your newfound confidence. "Thank you for going to see me at the library. I am really glad you did," you smiled softly. "I am glad, too, " he whispered. Harry then grasped your hand, which was still in his face, and stroked the back of it for a bit. "Good night, Y/N." He eventually said, grinning at your red face. You huffed and pulled your hand away just to push him slightly back. "Don't get all mushy now, you wanker!" "Ah, you wished, Y/L/N, " Harry retorted, starting to walk back to his friends. He then looked at you again. "See you around!" "See you, " you waved and went back to your own friends. . It had been almost three months since that thursday evening, and you Harry really did see each other round. The duo became almost inseparable, if someone saw you, you would see Harry Potter not far away, and where you saw Harry you would see you close by. You had become very close with the rest of the Griffindor's. Harry eagerly introduced you to them a few days after you officially met, and you were welcome with open arms. As for Harry, he was quite nervous when meeting the other Ravenclaw's, but with your help, he soon made new friends with them too. The two of you, despite all of the circumstances, would always make time for one eachother everyday. Be it just relaxing by the black lake, studying at your spot in the library, or messing around the corridors. You had built a beautiful friendship in a very short period of time, and that both scared and amazed you. It was all just so natural. It was all just like it should be. Most said you were secretly dating. After all, you were always touching each other. Arms around the other shoulder or waist, sometimes holding hands, the occasional kisses in cheeks, forehead, head, and the frequent hugs. It all started when you noticed how touch starved Harry was. So, you first started to do small things when you two were alone; grab his hand, lean your head on his shoulder, linger a little longer in your before short awkward hugs. So, when you asked Harry if and how comfortable he was with your affections, and then if you could display them in public, you received a very excited nod from Harry and a very tight hug, as well as a kiss on your head.  

After that, neither of you stopped your affections. Feelings soon developed after your friendship blossomed, but neither you nor Harry acted on it. You liked how things were, you liked your intimate uncomplicated friendship. And besides, you thought that the others' feelings were purely platonic, afraid of rejection. Hermoine and Ron had yelled at the both of you because of it more often than not. It was almost Christmas time, and you couldn't wait for it. You would be seeing your family for the first time in a while, and then you would finally meet the rest of Weasleys, as Ron had invited you to spend the rest of the holiday at his house. When you knew that both Harry and Hermoine were going too, you couldn't help but say yes. Just a few more days. It was thursday again, and because of your now finished tests and exams, you and Harry decided to ditch the study day to spend the afternoon at the black lake. It was nostalgic. The afternoon was just the same as the day you had met, except this time the sky seemed even darker. There was still no wind, and there was still no rain, only the dark sky and the winter cold air. Harry had his back against one of the trees close by, and you were snuggled up to him, trying to block out the cold, even though the you two were under your warm red and black squared blanket. Harry's strong arms were wrapped around your figure perfectly, making you relish the fuzzy feeling that went through your bodies, as you both tried to get comfortable.

Your hair was pulled into a careless bun to keep it out of your face. A fluffy scarf was wrapped around your neck, and you had previously discarded your robe into a shorter and warmer dark blue cape. Your nose and cheeks were flushed with the cold temperature, but you could've sworn you had never felt so warm before. In your gloved hands was a securely held book, and you tried to get lost in its world. Which was very very difficult when Harry was just behind you, holding you, being the adorable boy he was. He had a black beanie in his head and some of his messy raven locks escaped underneath it. His nose and cheeks were pink as well, making his green eyes stand out. Harry wore a dark blue (almost black) hoodie which was a little big on him, but you almost died of how cute it looked on him. For the past half an hour, not much was spoken between you two. You wanted to just finish that chapter, and Harry was trying his best to not disturb you (although it was quite difficult for him to stay still). He first stared a little at you, as you were too beautiful to not to. Then, he read the book with you for a while, but quickly got distracted by the weather. It entranced him, just like in that day at the library. If he could, he would look at it for hours. Harry didn't notice when you closed your book, adjusted the blanket around you more tightly and looked up at him. Only when you lifted your hand to cup one of his flushed cheeks did Harry snap out of his trance. Harry leaned into your touch. "Hello there," he gave you a boyish smile. "Hi, weather boy," you grinned. You stroked his cheek slowly while your other hand reached for his crooked glasses. "I thought we agreed to not talking about that again," Harry frowned. But he wasn't really upset by it, if the amusement in his eyes were anything to go by. You shrugged. "You were making heart eyes at it again." "Well, it's just like the day we met! Remember?" Harry asked, wiggling his eyebrows. "Of course I do. Such a special day. The day I found out that the Harry James Potter fell in love with couches and tables." you said, trying to keep a straight face. But when Harry gave you the most done look you had ever seen, you bursted out laughing. "You will never let that go, will you?" Harry huffed, turning his face to the opposite side from you. "Never," you said. However, when you saw his pout, you couldn't resist and leaned to kiss his jaw. "But, honestly? It was one of the most important days of my life." Harry turned to you. "Why?" he asked curiously. "Because I got to meet the one who would become my favourite person," you smiled softly. Harry's heart was practically bursting out of his chest and he was very worried that you could hear it. He could only stare into your eyes, and the need to taste you was becoming too unbearable for him. A minute passed. Then two. And Harry finally opened his mouth. "I really want to kiss you right now, " he breathed. Your mind went almost completely blank, a very rare occurrence. All you knew was- one, if you were standing right now your legs would have probably given you up; two, the strange feeling in your belly was starting to become a little too intense; and three, you really wanted to kiss him too. It didn't take much for you to answer. "So why don't you?" You met half ways, neither was sure of who moved first. Your mouths were just pressing each other softly, relishing on the new mind-blowing feeling. Harry's lips were slightly chapped because of the cold and they moulded perfectly against your soft ones. It was a soft, innocent peck that lingered for some time. Harry pulled apart after a few seconds, opening his eyes and looking into yours. Harry's breathing was uneven matching your breathy one. And in one quick and craving move, you kissed again. Your hands were on Harry's chest, moving them in an up-and-down motion. Harry grabbed you by the torso and pulled you onto his lap, trying to get you as close as possible. This time, the kiss was passionate, almost desperate, as your mouths moved against each other. Neither cared about the air necessity; you didn't want to pull away, and Harry didn't really care if the oxygen in his lungs ended. Harry brushed his tongue against your bottom lip, making youpart them. Your tongues involved with one another, fighting for dominance. Your teeth would sometimes clash but not in a painful way, it was in a hungry one. You eventually gave up and let Harry explore your mouth. You focused now on the feeling of his body pressed on you; his well built (thank Merlin for quidditch) yet slim body. You travelled your hands up to his neck and your fingers played with the hairs that escaped the beanie on the nape of it. You then threw the beanie to where your book was lying, and ran your hands through his locks, no doubt making them even more messy. When your lungs were finally burning too much, you pulled away just enough for you to trail hot-mouthed kisses from the corner of Harry's mouth, to his jaw and his neck. Harry leaned his head slightly back so you could continue to leave kisses on his exposed skin. He was breathing hard, and he gripped his arms around your waist and torso for stability. His mouth was slightly agape, and he definitely wasn't much cold anymore. Harry didn’t even notice until now that the navy blanket fell just around your waists, keeping the lower part of your bellies and legs warm. You trailed her kisses back to his lips, leaving one chaste kiss there before pressing your forehead against Harry’s. Your breaths were ragged and neither of you had the energy just yet to open their eyes. A few minutes later, your eyes fluttered open and you saw Harry already staring at you with a small smile on his face. You didn’t really know what to say. Should you say thank you? Or confess your feelings for the boy. But wasn't it obvious? Well, Harry really could be very oblivious sometimes. Maybe you should just run and move out of the castle. You have always wondered what Beauxbatons looked like, maybe you could go there. But your thoughts were interrupted when Harry sighed. "You're so pretty," he whispered, as if talking would be too loud and ruin your moment. You chuckled. "I am going to be honest, this was the most unexpected thing I could have thought of when I woke up this morning, and I don't really know what to think, " you said, brushing your nose with Harry’s. "Oh, hm, was-was it bad? I-I'm sorry, didn’t mean to-" Harry started to ramble, and tried to pull away. "No! No, Merlin Harry, I'm sorry, didn’t mean to make you feel bad!" you rushed to say, and hugged him closer. "It was really perfect, I just don't know what this means for us now, you know? It's a little scary, that's all." Harry leaned in and brushed your lips together. He gave you a light kiss before pulling back with the most gorgeous smile you had ever seen. "Well, it would be a little awkward if now you said you didn’t like me back, but I'm pretty sure your mouth was saying something really different not even five minutes ago, so-" "You're a complete idiot, did you know that Harry Potter?" you exclaimed in disbelief. "Your idiot now." You looked like a little kid on Christmas. "My idiot." You snuggled against Harry's chest, being now turned sideways on his lap, and leaned your forehead into the junction of his neck and shoulder. Harry's arms were still closely wrapped around you. You then pulled the blanket up again, making sure it covered all of your bodies, trying to keep the warmth that didn't escape. Harry looked up at the clouds. The dark grey colour still stained them, and little drops of rain met the ground timidly. He didn’t notice when it had started raining thanks to the tree you and Harry were currently leaned on. The smiles on your faces didn't seem to want to leave. It seemed the same. Just like that thursday at the library, as if nothing had changed. But things really did change, and in the most unique and pure way possible. Harry returned his attention to the girl in his arms and hugged you tighter. A content sigh left his lips as he closed his eyes. Here he was, in his favourite place, his home; in Hogwarts, with this magic sky above him, almost protecting him from all his nightmares just because of it's magic aura, with you in his arms. How he got so lucky? He wasn't quite sure. But he finally was happy. Thank Merlin for thursdays, especially the ones with dark grey skies.

[thespiritoflife]

YES FINALLY HAPPY ENDING YES I HOPED THEY WILL END UP TOGETHER!! YES!!!🥰🥰

I loved reading this!!! Scorpius is so cute and jealous Draco hehe😎😎😆😍😍

It is so cute, fluffy and it got my mood much better after part 1 which made me sad AND THIS MADE ME HAPPY🥰🥰🥰

You're so talented, babe, you are amazing writer!!!! I am so proud at you, keep going!! <33

Not her 2(d.m.)

It has been about three months since I broke up with Draco. And when I tell you it was hard for me, it was hard.

And it still is.

I miss him so freaking much,but at the same time I don't. I want some time to myself, to make me realise that I am worth it. I feel like I have lost myself trying to be enough for him. Keyword:trying.

I still spend hours crying over him. Hours crying as to why I wasn't good enough to make him move on from her.

I never told him to forget Astoria. No. I just asked him to move on. But obviously that didn't work.

I am trying to forget about him. I really am. But I just can't seem to do so. Everywhere I go, everything I do, I see him. I miss his touch, his voice, I miss everything about him. But then I don't have to go through constant comparison, arguing and constant reminder of how I am not Astoria, and how I will never be able to be enough, even though I might love him more than Astoria could ever do.

I don't think I could ever be able to forget him, or even move on. I just can't seem to let go. And him and I working in the same department doesn't help. That's why I haven't attended work since the break-up. I didn't want to see him. But I can't be at home forever. I have to face him someday. And today is that day. I am going to work after 3 months finally. And I am dreading it, because I will have to face him.

3rd PERSON POV It's been a week since Y/N has re-joined the ministry and so far its not that bad, mainly because she hasn't seen much of Draco. Its kind of awkward between them. No, actually its very awkward.

Draco would always try to start a conversation, but Y/N would only give short responses and dismiss him. She only talks to him when she really has to. She also has visited Scorpius a couple times, and every time she visits, he would call her 'mama' and she would always remind him that she's not his mum anymore, and never was,while looking at Draco sadly.

Today, Y/N is in a better mood, because it's her birthday. When she came to work, she was greeted and wished by many people on her way to her office, and that brought a smile to her face.

Right now, she was sitting in her office, recalling the time when Draco forgot her birthday. And she didn't even say anything to him, thinking it was just because of work. She scoffed at the memory.

On the other hand, Draco was on his way to her office, along with Scorpius. Scorp insisted that he had made a gift for Y/N for her birthday, and he wanted to see her. Breaking-up with Y/N was hard for Draco too, and he's gonna lie if he said he doesn't miss her. He didn't realize how dependent he was on her until she was gone. He still loves her too. Life is hard for him without her. She always used to make him feel better. But she isn't there anymore, but for her own good. He wants her to move on, to find someone better than him, or so he thought.

He knocked on her office door and heard a faint 'come in'. He was about to enter when he heard his name being called. He turned around and saw Harry Potter, the head of the department. "I want the file I gave you yesterday, I have to check something in it.", he said. Draco nodded his head and turned to Scorpius. "You go inside. I'll be there soon,yeah?", he asked. Scorpius nodded and rushed inside.

"MAMA!",he yelled excitedly. Y/N looked up from her work and smiled. "Scorp, I have told you I am not your mama", she sighed.

But Scorpius just ignored her comment. "HAPPY BIRTHDAY,MAMA!", he crawled on her lap and showed her the drawing he made for her birthday.

The drawing had 3 stick figures, the smallest one had 'me' written above it. And the tallest one had 'dad'. And the last one was Y/N's, which had 'best mama' written above it, in a messy yet beautiful handwriting.

Y/N sadly smiled at the picture.

"Do you like it?", asked Scorpius, looking at her with his big grey eyes. Y/N smiled and hugged him close to her.

"I love it, thank you so so much Scorp!", she kissed his head repeatedly.

Scorpius then crawled down from her lap and pulled on her hand, which made her stand up. "Let's go somewhere!", he looked up at her. "And where do you want to go, Scorp?", she chuckled. "Let's go to...Hogsmeade?", he asked her. "I am sorry Scorp, I have work. How about we go when I finish my work? Till then you can...play here?", she looked at him expectantly. "Okay!", he smiled up at her and went to explore her office.

Just then she heard another knock, and in came Draco. He looked at her from head to toe. She looked really good(and hot) in her white formal attire.(its above if you wanna see it) He always liked when she dressed formal, but never told her. When she noticed him check her out, her cheeks burned, which she tried to hide. She cannot feel this way anymore, she tried to remind herself. "Uh..Happy birthday, Y/N!", he greeted awkwardly, looking at everything but her. "Thanks", she coldly replied. He then looked and her and said the words he might have never said to her before. "Y-you look really good", he complimented.  Something in her snapped when he said this. "I'd prefer if you don't comment on my appearance", she snapped. Scorpius was busy exploring the various kinds of quills in her quill stand. How dare he? He never complimented her when they were together, why now then?

And Draco felt something in his stomach at this, and they weren't butterflies.

Just then, they heard a knock on the door. It was Y/N's secretary. "Excuse me ma'am, but there's someone who would like to meet you.", she said. "Belle, I told you so many times to call me Y/N, and who is it?", she asked confused. "I don't know, but they said they know you." "Alright..send them in." She was still confused as to who could this be when the door opened again, and in came someone Y/N hadn't seen in a while. Ernie Macmillan. Y/N's bestfriend since Hogwarts. He shifted to America just after graduation and Y/N hadn't seen him since then. She gasped and ran up to hug him. "Oh my god, Ernie!", she spoke into the hug. He chuckled and hugged her back. "Yes, it's me." "I missed you! How have you been?", she broke from the hug, pure excitement written on her face. "I have been fine. How have you been?" Y/N took a deep breath and answered with a small smile,"I am good. When did you get here?" "Just yesterday, couldn't miss my bestfriend's 23 birthday now, could I?", he teased. "It's so good to see you again", she smiled. Ernie just looked at her and smiled. "Happy birthday, Y/N", he said and hugged her again, unaware of certain grey-blue eyes glaring at them.

Ernie broke from the hug and looked behind Y/N to see Draco and Scorpius. "Malfoy", he greeted Draco with a single nod which was returned by him. He then looked at Scorpius, whose attention was now turned to him. "And who might you be?",he asked Scorp with a smile. Scorpius puffed his chest out and answered,"Malfoy, Scorpius Malfoy." He definitely got that from his father. Ernie just looked at him and chuckled, surprised by how he looked exactly like his father. He then turned to Y/N again. "So, do you want to hang out later? Maybe we could catch-up?" "Sure!", Y/N smiled. "How about we go for dinner tonight then?" Before Y/N could answer, someone cut off. "NO! Mama and I are going to Hogsmeade today!", Scorpius pouted. Possessive, just like his father.

"Mama?", asked Ernie and looked at Y/N with furrowed eyebrows. Before Y/N had the chance to explain, she got cut off,again. "Yes, Mama.", Draco interjected. "But didn't you marry Greengrass?", he asked. Y/N looked at Draco and saw him tense up, so she decided to answer for him. "Ernie, Astoria uh..died of a blood curse.", she sighed sadly. "Oh, I am sorry Malfoy.", he said with sympathy, to which Draco just nodded. She turned to Ernie again. "And Scorpius calls me 'mama' because I-uh..me a-and D-Draco..w-we"- Before she could finish, Draco cut her off, again. "We are dating." She looked at him with widened eyes. "What?",she half-yelled. "We are dating." "No, we are not. I don't think you remember but we broke up,Draco.", she answered coldly. Scorpius and Ernie just looked at both of them. "Uh..I think I should g-go.", Ernie said. He then looked at Scorpius and thought it was best if he doesn't witness his dad and his 'mama' argue, so he asked him if he wanted to go get ice-cream, to which Scorpius happily agreed to, forgetting all about the argument.

After they were gone, Y/N turned to Draco again. "What was that,Draco?", she shouted. Draco just looked at her and walked closer, and she took one step backward with each step he took forward,until her back hit the wall. "W-what are you doing?",she asked, her voice weak, when Draco suddenly put his head in the crook of her neck, and she felt something wet on her neck. He was crying. "I am sorry, I am so so sorry.", he kept whispering into her neck. "Please take me back, please give me another chance.", he was now starting to cry harder. "I miss you. I m-miss you so f-fucking much. I know you deserve better, someone who'll take care of you much better. I am just m-messed up, I know that. But I am s-selfish, I can't stand seeing y-you with someone else. I lost Astoria, I can't lose y-you too." Y/N lifted his head from her neck so she could look at him. He looked devastated, which brought tears into her own eyes. "But Draco, I am not her, I cannot be her, I don't wanna be her." "Yes, you are not her. You are you. And I am sorry I didn't see that earlier.I love you as you are. You don't have to be her, just be with me. I am sorry for all the pain I put you through,but please give me another chance, I promise I'll be better. I promise it will be worth it. I want to make up for all the times I hurt you. Just please.", he looked at her with pleading eyes. The same eyes that melted her heart everytime she looked into them. Including this time. She slightly nodded her head and watched his eyes lit up. She gave in, once again. She simply couldn't resist him. "R-really?", he asked with hope in his eyes. "Yes.", she nodded again and bit her lip. Draco's eyes went to her lips, and he connected his lips with her, in a passionate,loving kiss. She tried to pull away for breath, but Draco deepened the kiss. He finally let go, both out of breath. He buried his face in her shoulder and kissed it lightly. "Thank you, thank you, Y/N. I promise it will be worth it. I love you, my darling.",he whispered.

And he did change. He did become better at expressing how much he loves her for her. They both got married shortly after, and not to mention the pure look of excitement on Scorpius' face when he found out that he was going to be an elder brother.

YAYYYY

REBLOG AND REPLYY (I just love replying to comments:))

@scrynexxtins @voldysmissingheart @drvmiones @f4iryluvy

{if you want me to mention you, dm me:)}

[accioprozac]

Jealous : Fred Weasley x Reader

Summary: You’d known the Weasley twins since 1st year and had been pining after Fred nearly as long. You knew it wasn’t requited, Fred treated you like he treated Ginny, like a little sister. Your crush on him was painfully obvious, almost everyone knew except Fred. Still, you were holding out hope. Then Fred asked Angelina to the Yule Ball and you felt your heart spilt in two. But despite Fred’s apparent disinterest in you romantically, he still attempts to sabatoge all your dates and you’re getting sick of it.

Warnings: Swearing

Author’s note: Please interact! Also, I wrote this on my phone so sorry if the spelling and format is a bit wonky.

“The Yule Ball is coming up,” you mention, trying to keep your voice light, “Are you going to ask anyone?”

George gives you a knowing look and you glare at him. He knew about your not-so-secret crush on Fred. Hell, almost everyone did, except Fred. You weren’t exactly good at hiding your feelings.

“I have someone in mind,” he grins slyly.

“Really? Who?” You ask, a bit too excitedly, and he gives you an amused look. “Come on Fred, tell me!” You wheedle but he puts a finger to his lips, zipping them shut.

“I’ll give you a hint,” he starts, “She’s in Gryffindor.”

Well obviously,” George snorts. Fred gives him a look that says what’s that supposed to mean? “You barely talk to any Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws are too smart to put up with your shit and Slytherins? I’m pretty sure that whole house hates you after the prank we pulled last year.”

Fred’s eyes light up at the mention of the prank and he enthusiastically starts to recount Snape’s reaction to his House’s robes being turned red and gold.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

“He didn’t say much, but do you think he could be talking about me?” you ask Hermione anxiously as you both get ready for bed.

“Well it would make sense. You are the girl he spends the most time with.”

“I hope he asks me,” you say wistfully, “Night Hermione.”

“Goodnight Y/N.”

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

The next morning, Hermione’s forehead is wrinkled in thought when you sit down for breakfast, “Y/N,” she starts, “I heard from Lavender Brown who heard from Katie Bell that Fred asked Angelina to the Yule Ball.” Her lips are pursed as she anxiously studies your face for some type of reaction.

“Oh,” you say dejectedly, “Good for him.”

“I’m sorry Y/N,” Ginny says sympathetically, “My brother is an idiot.”

You give her a weak smile back.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

A few days later, Ernie Macmillan comes up to you and nervously asks you to Hogsmead. He’s sweating profusely but you secretly admire his bravery. You accept and the date is fairly uneventful, mostly consisting of playful banter, and he walks you back to the Gryffindor common room, kissing your cheek chastely before departing.

Fred and George caught sight of the kiss and Fred snorts, “A Hufflepuff?”

“What’s wrong with Hufflepuff?” You demand, crossing your arms.

“Nothing. Nothing at all,” he mutters before angrily storming off. George mouths “sorry, I’ll talk to him,” before following Fred.

Ernie doesn’t talk to you again after that date. Every time you approach him, he finds some reason to leave quickly. You couldn’t lie, it was hurtful, was the date that bad? He seemed almost scared to be around you.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

A boy from Durmstang ends up asking you to the Yule Ball. His name is Ansen. He’s tall and has nice eyes, so you accept. Maybe you aren’t in love with him, but he’s a nice distraction from Fred. You get along with him well enough, you both like quidditch and chocolate frogs. He’s not a bad dancer either, he twirls you around and that combined with your F/C dress makes you feel like a princess.

When the Yule Ball ends, he walks you back to the Gryffindor tower and wishes you a good night.

When you enter the common room, George and Fred are talking in harsh whispers, heads bowed. Both of them are still in their Yule Ball suit. Fred looks up and seems a bit annoyed, “Who’s that bloke you went to the ball with?”

“His name is Asen, he goes to Durmstang,” you say, shrinking a bit under Fred’s glare. “He’s really nice,” you added, just because you could.

“You went with him??” Fred huffed, sounding a bit disbelieving. “He’s Bulgarian, how do you guys even talk?”

George grinned, “I bet there’s not much talking involved when they get together.” You shoot him a look, not helping George.

Ginny glares at them from a armchair by the fireplace, the splitting image of her mother, and they shrunk under her angry gaze. “Stop being gits,” she grabs my hand and pulls me to the girls dormitory, “Tell me everything.”

Once you’re done recounting the date, she smiles, “He sounds nice.”

“He is.”

“You don’t sound too happy,” Ginny notes innocently.

“I know,” you sigh. “I just wish I that Fred had asked me.”

Ginny winces, “I know the feeling.” Harry, right.

“I’m sorry Gin.”

“Boys are stupid, who needs them?”

“Here, here,” Hermione agrees from her bed, her voice is thick with tears and muffled slightly by her pillow.

“I’m going to kill Ron.”

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

The next day, Ansen’s hair is bright blue. When you try to talk to him, he seems disgruntled and brushes you aside, muttering something about “stupid Weasley twins” and “she’s not worth the trouble.” You narrow your eyes and put two and two together. Fred and George.

You storm up to them and Fred gives you an annoyed look as you cut of his conversation with Angelina.

“You two are unbelievable! You can’t just prank everyone I try to date,” your voice raises a bit and you know you’re making a scene, but you’re to mad to care. You can feel onlookers burning holes into your back with their curious stares.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Fred drawls and George quickly removes himself from the situation, putting his hands up like don’t get me involved.

“You dyed Ansen’s hair blue and now he won’t speak to me,” you shoot a glare at him, “Not to mention whatever you did to poor Ernie.”

“We prank everyone,” he says defensively.

“You scared them away,” your voice is accusatory.

“Well if they’re that easily scared away, they’re not worth your time,” he replies breezily.

“You don’t get to do this,” you repeat. Your voice is quiet but shakes with anger and hurt.

“Why not?” Fred asks, looking a bit sullen.

“Because you don’t get to do this. You don’t get to ruin all my chances of love after you broke my heart,” your eyes widen at your thoughtless confession.

He gaped silently for a moment, “When I broke your heart?”

“You took Angelina to the Yule Ball.” At his blank look, you felt your face grow hot with anger, “You know what? Forget it. Fuck you Fred Weasley. Stay out of my life”

“Wait, Y/N!” He scrabbles up and grabs your wrist. You jerk it away from him, feeling like he burned you, before running into the girls dormitory.

Hermione, who had been silently watching the exchange, set her book down, “Fred Weasley, you are a compete arse,” she hissed before running after you.

She finds you lying face flat on your bed, “Y/N? I’m sorry about Fred, boys are idiots.”

You let out a watery laugh, “I hate him,” you pause, “but I also love him and he doesn’t love me back and it’s hurts, Mione.”

“I know,” she sighed, wrapping you in a hug. You allow yourself to cry on her shoulder and she glares at the wall behind you, thinking of all the things she wanted to do to Fred Weasley for hurting you.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

You avoid the Fred for a whole week and you’re absolutely miserable. You’ve been spending more time with Hermione which is fun and all, but you missed George(and maybe Fred too). It’s not that you were mad at George, but if you spoke to him, Fred would probably be there. You made sure to continue to smile at George in hallways but your face would turn icy at the arrival of Fred.

The next week, you’re walking to potions and Fred grabs you and pulls you into an empty classroom. “I need to talk to you,” he says.

You sigh wearily and avoid his gaze, “What do you want Fred? Can’t you just leave me alone?”

“I want you.” His voice is so earnest and when you look up to meet his eyes, he’s smiling nervously, hands wrung together.

You look away, “No, you don’t. You’re just saying that because you can’t stand seeing me with another boy and no longer fawning over you like a lovesick little girl.” Your tone is venomous and you take a step back, preparing to leave but his voice stops you.

“That’s not true,” he says defensively, “I fancy you, I think I always have. It just took seeing you with another bloke for me to realize.”

“What about Angelina?”

“I don’t love her, I love you,” his frank declaration stuns you into silence.

“You love me?” your voice is a hoarse whisper.

His face flushes and you hate that you still find him endearing after everything he’s done, he nods solemnly, “I do. I know I’ve been awful to you these past weeks and I don’t blame you if you don’t want to see me.”

You feel your resolve crumbling, “I’m still mad at you but I do miss being friends.” You don’t address the love confession, you were still too mad and hurt for that.

“I’ll make it up to you Y/N, I promise.”

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

He stays true to his word. He walks you to every class and even apologizes to Ernie, who is no longer avoiding you. He doesn’t try to demand anything from you or push you, leaving everything up to you. Slowly, you begin to trust him again and can feel your relationship shifting from friends to something else.

Your first kiss is at the end of the school year. You say goodbye to George and turn to Fred, nervously aware of his family standing a few steps away. “Write to me?” you ask and he nods. You stand on your tip toes and peck him on the lips, quickly. He stares at you in shock for a moment before gently grabbing your waist and pulling you in for another a kiss that leaves you both breathless. You can hear his brothers hollering in the distance and Molly scolds them.

When you pull apart, Fred’s face is almost as red as his hair, “Bye Y/N, I’ll uh- see you next year,” he pauses, “Or maybe you could come to the Burrow sometime during the summer? You don’t have to but I reckon Mum would love to have you, and I would too of course-“

You cut off his rambling with a laugh, “I’d love to Freddie.”

[keijislove]

Hello ! Could you do a harry × hufflepuff!reader with the promps 6 ans 14 ? Thank you !😊😊

A/N: Hi! Sorry if it’s a bit long... This was the first request I got off anon, lmao 

ENJOY!!

Prompts used: 

6. 'Don't make me hex you into the next year! ' 'I'd like to see you try.'        14. ‘My Ammortentia smells like you...’

Strawberries: Harry Potter X Hufflepuff!Reader

It was just another day in Slughorn’s Potions class, you stirring your cauldron while daydreaming.

‘Who do you think yours will smell like?’ asked Luna. ‘I feel mine is going to be a Crumple-Horned Snorcack.’

You stuffed your knuckles into your mouth to prevent yourself from giggling. ‘I, um, don’t know.’

‘What do you smell? I know it’s weird... for you, having a soulmate or whatever.’

See, that was one of the things you adored about Luna.

You couldn’t possibly keep a secret around her, somehow, she just knew. But it also allowed you to seek her consolation at times without having to embarrass yourself by telling her what it was.

Why?

Well, she was Luna Lovegood after all.

You were one of the best potion students, and were fairly good at all your other classes, Luna and Cho kept asking you why you weren’t a Ravenclaw.

You just hoped your Potion skills could help you find out who you were meant to be with...

You swallowed, snapping out of your daze. ‘Uhm, yeah, not sure. Hope it’s someone nice.’

‘That’s sweet.’ Luna remarked in her same, breathless voice.

You smiled.

‘Alright, now, time’s up.’ Slughorn clapped his hands together. ‘Who wants to share what their Ammortentia smells like? Miss Diggory?’

You cursed internally. ‘Yes, Professor.’

You took a sniff. ‘Sir, it’s, um, treacle tart, um.... pumpkin juice? Yes, and...’

You sniffed again.

‘... muddy grass?’ You spoke.

‘Very good, miss Diggory!’

‘What was it?’ Luna asked as you left. ‘The muddy grass?’

‘Can you stop doing that?’ you joked. ‘It’s freaky.’

‘Don’t change the subject Y/N.’

You sighed. ‘It smelled like, I dunno like quidditch robes or something. Maybe it’s a sporty guy.’ You mumbled.

You didn’t have to specify who, it was Luna.

‘How do you know what boys’ quidditch robes smell like?’ Luna questioned as you whacked her with your book.

-----------

You traced shapeless patterns on the grass, softly caressing your yellow scarf with your other hand.

It was a scarf you were very proud of.

Your brother had given it to you, and it was the last thing he ever did give you, to be completely honest...

Your tiny ‘revisit’ was interrupted by a sneer behind you.

‘Hey Diggory, who did your potion smell like?’ Malfoy asked in his horrible, drawling voice. ‘Longbottom?’

‘I seriously don’t understand what you’ve got against Neville.’ You spoke. ‘And no, if you must know. It smelt like someone else.’

‘Bet it was a grave.’ Malfoy sniggered. ‘Oh, where’s your brother?’

You tensed up immediately, but stroked your scarf to calm down.

‘Patience is one of the most important qualities a true Hufflepuff should possess,’ Cedric had told you. ‘And you, Y/N/N, are one of the best Hufflepuffs I know.’

‘Where is he?’ Malfoy continued.

‘Shut up.’ You spoke through gritted teeth.

‘It’d be nice if he’d passed some of his qualities onto you.’ Pansy lazily called. ‘At least he was good-looking. Look at you, bag of pickled toads.’

‘Shut up, prat.’ You warned.

‘Blimey Diggory... is your brother dead?’ Malfoy asked. ‘I didn’t even notice...’

That was the last straw.

‘

Oh, fuck patience.’ You muttered under your breath, lunging at him.

‘Argh!’ Malfoy groaned as you socked him square in the stomach. ‘Geroff me, you lunatic!’

‘What’s going on?’ Harry, Ron and Hermione had approached you.

Understanding the situation, Ron and Harry both seized either arm of yours while Hermione ripped Draco off of you before both of you could hex each other too badly.

‘Get-off-me!’ you snarled in Harry’s face.

‘No.’

‘GET-OFF-STUPID-PRAT-’ you struggled against his firm grasp. ‘IDIOT-CEDRIC-NOT-FUNNY-’

‘What exactly are you trying to say?’ Hermione asked, confused.

‘Shut up Granger, I don’t want to talk about this.’ You spat, snatching your bag up and ‘accidentally’ whacking Harry with it, before leaving.

-----------

‘What happened?’ your friend, Hannah had asked when you had stormed into the common room.

‘Malfoy.’ You curtly answered. ‘And Potter.’

‘You know, I don’t see why you hate him so much.’ Ernie walked up.

‘Who doesn’t hate Malfoy?’

‘No, no, I meant Harry.’ He spoke.

You groaned.

This was a subject they’d brought up millions of times.

‘He is a prat, for one.’ You began. ‘He’s so bloody proud... all the teachers fawning over him, Slughorn calling him ‘special’, heck, even Snape would be happy now that he’s suddenly become excellent at Potions. I reckon he cheats off Granger.’

‘Nah, Hermione isn’t like that.’ Hannah said.

‘And he is thick-headed.’ You finished.

‘Oh, is that it?’ Ernie smirked. ‘You’re jealous of him?’

‘OI!’

-----------

‘Good morning.’ Professor McGonagall crisply greeted. ‘In the five years you’ve been with me, you have learnt that Transfiguration is not a topic to be messed around with. And as you start your sixth year, I expect you all to behave more mature with this subject, especially you, Mr. Smith.’

Zacharias Smith scowled at her.

‘Now.’ She continued. ‘Who remembers what I had told you all at the beginning of your first year at Hogwarts? Miss Diggory?’

‘Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts,’ you recited, trying to imitate her voice. ‘Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned.’

The class howled with laughter.

‘Charming, Miss Diggory.’ Professor McGonagall sarcastically remarked, but you could’ve sworn you saw the corner of her lips twitch.

You grinned to yourself.

‘Now, as Miss Diggory said.’ She spoke. ‘There will be no messing around. I demand silence as I declare... the Gryffindors shall be joining us today.’

You knew by ‘silence’ she meant your groans.

You stuffed your handkerchief into your mouth before groaning quietly.

The red-scarved students made their way in.

McGonagall began assigning partners.

‘Weasley with Macmillan, Brown with Smith, Granger with Abbott and Potter... with Diggory.’

‘Not with him!’ you yelled at the same time as Harry yelled ‘Not with her!’

‘Yes, definitely together.’ The Professor mumbled.

You scoffed as Harry sat next to you, both of you glaring daggers at each other.

‘Look, I don’t want to fail this subject.’ You warned. ‘My career depends on it, so will you try to act civil?’

‘Yeah, I’ll try.’ Harry sneered. ‘Do you even have a career plan?’

‘For your information!’ you hotly began. ‘I do. I want to become an Auror.’

‘Auror?’ a small flicker of interest flashed in his eyes but vanished as you rolled your eyes and turned to your work.

Harry sniffled.

He paused, terror rising up inside him.

He croaked out. ‘Do you... can you smell strawberries? And vanilla?’

‘Oh.’ You frowned. ‘Um, yeah, the strawberries would be my shampoo and... the vanilla would be my lotion, why?’

‘No reason.’

---------

‘Oh, merlin’s arse.’ You muttered, trying to get past a horde of boys wanting to ask you to Slughorn’s Party.

You knew they didn’t like you; they just wanted an excuse to attend it.

‘FOR THE LAST TIME, SOD OFF!’ you yelled, shoving past.

They still followed you.

You ran to the library, where you met a certain Chosen One.

‘Don’t mind me.’ You huffed. ‘Please, I’ll do anything, just don’t tell them I’m here!’

Harry opened his mouth to say that it was alright, but stopped as a smirk settled on his face.

‘No.’

‘What?’ you asked. ‘Merlin’s arse, please! I told you, I’ll do anything!’

‘Anything?’ he cheekily asked.

‘Anything.’

‘Hmm... let’s see.’ Harry smirked further, thoroughly enjoying himself.

'Don't make me hex you into the next year!' you warned.

'I'd like to see you try.'

Brandishing your wand, you tried thinking of a jinx while Harry stood there with an amused expression on his face.

‘I’ll tell them you’re here.’ He said lazily.

‘Oh, alright!’ you snapped. ‘You win, I’ll give you whatever you want, now let me hide!’

‘Promise?’

‘Promise, MOVE!’

You dove behind a shelf and stayed.

Meanwhile, Harry was having the time of his life.

He wasn’t going to rat you out to those guys anyway, but there was something on his mind and he couldn’t pass up the perfect opportunity.

As a stampede of boys rushed over, Harry realised why you were so desperate to hide.

‘She’s not here.’ He coolly spoke. ‘Try the Hall.’

‘How should we know you’re not helping her hide?’ a Ravenclaw demanded.

‘Have you met me?’ Harry sarcastically said. ‘I don’t help my enemies.’

Yes, as lame as it had sounded, they seemed to buy it.

‘I don’t help my enemies?’ you questioned, climbing out of the shelf.

‘It... it sounded cooler in my head.’ Harry muttered.

You supressed a giggle. ‘Well, O’ Chosen One, what can I do for you?’

‘Er, about that.’ Harry began. ‘I wanna ask you something first?’

‘Yes?’

He smirked again. ‘Do you actually have a date?’

You covered your face and groaned. ‘No, they don’t even like me, they just want to get out of detention or come to the party, most of them.’

‘Mmhmm.’ Harry said distractedly.

‘Do you have a date?’ you shot back.

‘I will, by the end of this hour.’ Harry nonchalantly replied.

‘Whatever.’ You huffed. ‘What do you want.’

‘Be my date for Slughorn’s Party.’

If you had been drinking water, you were sure you would’ve spit it out.

You opened and closed your mouth like a goldfish.

‘What?!’ you finally sputtered.

‘Be my date for Slughorn’s Party.’ He repeated.

‘No.’ you stated. ‘No, no, no way, no.’

‘You promised!’

‘WHY DO YOU WANT TO TAKE ME?’ you yelled. ‘Take Ginny Weasley or Cho or something.’

‘But I want to take you.’ He said.

‘Why?!’

‘Our deal did not include so many questions.’ Harry cut off. ‘You’re coming, that’s final.’

‘Oh, well, fine!’ you snarled, stomping off.

Damn your loyal arse.

----------

‘I look ridiculous.’ You remarked, looking in the mirror.

‘Nonsense, you look amazing!’ Hannah squealed. ‘I’m so jealous, I wish I could go too.’

‘Yeah, yeah.’ You muttered.

You were wearing a(n) F/C dress, complete with your H/C hair falling elegantly onto your shoulders.

‘Oh, I forgot to ask.’ Hannah spoke, ‘Who’s your date?’

‘You do not want to know the answer to that question.’ You said. ‘Believe me.’

Hannah shrugged. ‘You look hot! Have fun!’

You walked in the direction of the Gryffindor common room, waiting for your ‘date’ to come along.

‘Hurry up, Potter.’ You muttered.

As if on cue, a voice sounded behind you.

‘Someone say my name, Diggory?’

There he stood, in all his glory, Harry Potter, the Boy With a Large Smirk Plastered Across His Face.

‘Can you not do that?’ you whined.

‘What?’

‘That weird face.’ You spoke. ‘It’s annoying.’

‘My apologies. Shall we, m’lady?’ he offered you his arm in mock-kindness.

‘Of course.’ You played along, taking it.

‘Where is this positive energy when you threaten to break my arms almost ten 

times a day?’ he quizzed in amusement.

‘Shut up.’

---------

Boring.

That’s how you were feeling.

You desperately wished you hadn’t agreed to come to this stupid party.

Harry seemed to notice your gloomy mood.

‘What’s wrong?’ he whispered.

‘Look at this.’ You muttered in disgust. ‘Look at all of them, sapping over each other when they barely know the other.’

He laughed. ‘Wanna slip out?’

‘Where are we going to go?!’ you asked in exasperation.

‘I know somewhere.’

---------

‘The Astronomy Tower?’ you questioned.

‘I like coming here when I’m bored.’ Harry shrugged. ‘Looking at the stars calms me.’

You nodded, understanding.

‘Let’s... sit.’

You sat down as Harry copied you, settling down next to you.

‘This is nice.’ You remarked.

‘What is?’

‘Not having to fight with you.’ You explained as Harry laughed.

‘Maybe we just assume too much.’ He suggested, causing you to giggle.

It was a sound pleasant to Harry’s ears, and for some reason, he wanted to hear it again.

‘I never asked.’ He began. ‘And I’m sorry. How have you been, er, holding up?’

He didn’t need to explain, you understood.

‘I’m fine.’ You answered. ‘I do miss him, awfully so, but... nothing’s changed much.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean that it’s still the same.’ You explained. ‘Nobody comforts me. Nobody knows me as Y/N Diggory, my best friend or Y/N Diggory, the girl from Hufflepuff, none of that. I was always Y/N Diggory, Cedric Diggory’s stupid younger sister. And now I’m Y/N Diggory, the late Cedric Diggory’s mourning sister.’

‘Oh. That’s... well, at least you’ve got your parents.’ Harry mumbled.

You let out a mirthless laugh. ‘I’d trade places with you, then. See, it’s the same at home. I’m just... an extra waste of space. Even mum and dad preferred Cedric. I’m the useless one, you see. Next to their beautiful son Cedric, I was always second best. Y/N. Their second-born. The less talented one. The stupid one. The non-attractive one.’

Your voice cracked a bit at the end, but you composed yourself. ‘I’m being thick, you probably think I’m stupid.’

‘I don’t think you’re stupid.’ Harry muttered. ‘How come you never cry? Like Cho, I mean.’

‘Because I don’t want to appear weak for him.’ You sighed. ‘You see, as much everyone preferred Cedric over me, I still loved him. I loved him quite a lot, actually. He hated it when I cried. I remember once when we were young, Cedric fell out of a tree and hurt his leg so badly, I started crying because of how bad it looked. He didn’t have any of it. He always told me, ‘Whatever happens, Y/N/N, don’t cry. You’re strong. You’re tough. And I can’t bear seeing you in tears. If and when a day comes where you cry because of me, I swear I will never forgive myself.’ And there he was such an idiot. Put his name in the Goblet. Went along and got murdered by Voldemort, didn’t he?’

Harry didn’t speak, so you continued.

‘I just wonder.’ You whispered. ‘You know, if he’s watching us this very moment. Somewhere from up there.’

You gestured to the stars.

Your head was turned towards the sky, but Harry couldn’t stop staring at you.

‘And so I know.’ You said, ‘I know if I cry, he’s up there somewhere, feeling disappointed in me. I don’t need anymore of that. I’ve had enough of ‘Diggory’s sister Y/N’ and ‘The ugly one’ or ‘the useless one’ it’s maddening.’

‘I don’t think you’re useless.’ Harry whispered. ‘Nor ugly. And you always were Y/N Diggory to me.’

‘That’s a bit consoling.’ You mustered a weak smile. ‘Thanks.’

At that moment, a familiar smell made it’s way to your nose and you gasped.

‘Your hair.’ You shakily whispered. ‘It... it smells like fresh, muddy grass.’

‘Oh.’ Harry flushed. ‘Er, yeah, sorry, I had Quidditch earlier this evening.’

‘Oh my god.’ You muttered. ‘No way.’

‘What?’

‘If I tell you something, Potter.’ You began. ‘Don’t make fun of me.’

‘I would never.’

You swallowed. ‘I think...My Ammortentia smells like you...’

Harry didn’t speak.

‘Go ahead, laugh.’ You muttered, trying your best not to cry then and there. ‘Run away. Hex me or something.’

Harry couldn’t think straight.

Your delicious scent was ever-so inviting, the strawberries fresh in your newly shampooed hair.

His gaze kept unwillingly flickering to your soft-looking lips, covered in a light tint of cherry lip-gloss.

As the lips he was looking at pressed themselves into a think# line, his gaze shifted towards the rest of your face, and to his horror, you were crying.

‘No, no, no, no!’ he said quickly.

‘What?’ you hiccoughed a little, ‘Go ahead, call me names or just leave.’

‘No, Y/N!’ he pressed. ‘Don’t cry, no please. I didn’t mean... no, I was just thinking. I think my Ammortentia smelt like you too.’

You let out a tiny gasp.

Neither of you knew what you were doing, somehow, your lips had messily collided and were now moving in sync.

You brought out a hand and tangled it into Harry’s untameable hair as he softly caressed your cheek.

Both of you parted, lips swollen, gasping for breath.

‘Well...’ he began. ‘That was unexpected.’

[malfoysstilinski]

stupid chicken | DRACO MALFOY

pairing: draco malfoy x slytherin!reader

summary: after draco’s hurt by buckbeak, you find a way to put a smile on his face. short fluff.

warnings: hufflepuff slander :(

“That stupid chicken!” Draco seethes, pale face nearly bright red as he clutches his sling-clad arm close to his chest, stalking down the dimly lit corridors of Hogwarts.

You smile discreetly from beside him, unsure why Draco was so insistent on mocking the Hippogriff who had attacked him in a frenzy of fear, all due to Draco’s own cockiness. It wasn’t Buckbeak’s fault at all, but Draco was blind to all his wrong doings.

He glares when Hannah Abbott and Ernie Macmillan giggle at him as he stalks by, lip curling in such a menacing way that you would have recoiled too, had you not been his girlfriend. Draco would never treat you how he treats the rest of the school’s population— he acted cruel to maintain his reputation, yet around you, he was a clingy, cuddle-loving teenage boy, just desperate for some positive attention.

“Bloody Hufflepuffs,” he spits, “Why are they even here? Society has surpassed the need for them!”

You chuckle and roll your eyes. “Calm down, Draco. I’m sure they meant nothing by it.”

You could tell Draco was in pain from the injury on his arm and that he was humiliated due to the increased frequency of his crude remarks. He was glaring at anybody who dared breathe near him, grabbing your arm with his good hand and leading you quicker to the Slytherin Common Room.

As soon as he muttered the password and the door slid open, the two of you planted yourselves on the leather couch, so close that your shoulders brushed.

You take his mobile arm and hold his hand, smoothing up and down the sleeve of his robes in an attempt to calm him down. Slowly, his jaw starts to unclench and you can feel him relaxing beside you.

“I don’t know why you didn’t just listen to Hagrid, Draco,” you tut, intertwining your fingers with his slender, pale ones. “He strictly said not to approach Buckbeak unless told so.”

“This is not my fault,” Draco mutters bitterly, refusing to look at a perspective other than his own. “If he can’t control his beasts, then he shouldn’t have them! I don’t see why we need his stupid lesson anyway. It’s a waste of my time.”

You sigh and squeeze his hand. “Does it hurt?” You change the subject.

Draco nods. “Yes. When I move it more than when it’s still.”

You pout sympathetically. “Oh, Draco...” you sigh. “Whatever will I do with you, hm?”

“You sound like my mother.” The corner of his lips tug up into a small smile, making you chuckle.

He sighs as she leans back, clenching his eyes shut as a particularly stinging pain shoots through his arm. You frown, wishing you could somehow help him. You unlink your hand from his, causing his silver pools to open up, a frown written across his pale features.

“I’ll be right back,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his temple.

Draco’s brows scrunch up. “No. Stay.”

“I’ll be back, you big baby,” you promise him.

You keep your promise and you’re back from your dormitory in less than two minutes. Two minutes too long in Draco’s opinion, who looks relieved to see you once you plop back down onto the leather couch beside him, on the other side of him this time, so you’re next to his hurt arm.

“What are you doing?” He asked when you tenderly lift it out of the sling.

You’re careful with him, your fingertips barely grazing the bandages covering his arm as you prop it up onto a pillow on your raised knees. Draco raises his brows curiously as you pull out a selection of colourful pens.

“Pick a colour,” you order him.

“Green,” Draco replies, causing you to smile and roll your eyes. “What are you doing?”

“Making your poorly arm look better,” you beam, popping off the cap for the green marker with your teeth.

The two of you are silent as you hold it between your lips, your writing hand moving out to touch the bandages wrapped around his arm whilst your other hand gently tilts it. Draco’s face shows no sign of discomfort, just curiousity and admiration as he watches what you’re doing, so you continue.

“It’s a snake,” he realises when you’ve drawn half its body near his thumb. “For Slytherin.”

“Yep,” you smile, before you write your name near it.

Draco begins to scold you once he realises that you’re drawing hearts around your name, but he sees the look on your face and doesn’t find it in him to do so. He lets you add a couple of flowers nearby, your artistic talents coming into play when you add a cartoon sunshine and a smiley face.

“It looks like a Hufflepuff threw up on my arm,” he mutters, acting as though he didn’t love it.

He likes the way you’ve drawn over his bandages, he likes how gentle you’re being with him and how you’re taking the time to pay attention to him in a sweet way.

Draco scowls when he realises he’s zoned out and you’ve written “buckbeak waz here” smack bang in the middle of his bandages.

“Y/N!” Draco complains as you giggle, putting the cap back onto the green pen. “That is not funny.”

“It kind of is,” you tease, glancing back up at him.

Draco goes to protest, but ends up lost in y/c/e pools instead. His breath is stuck in his chest and he releases it through a shaky sigh rather than an angry remark, his minty breath fanning your face. Your smile brightens as he leans closer to you.

Draco presses his lips against yours, his good hand cupping your cheek. You kiss him back gently, careful not to get too carried away and hurt the arm that’s resting between the two of your bodies.

“I love you, idiot,” Draco whispers as you pull away.

“I love you too, but you’re the idiot.”

...

Just a random idea I had!

harry potter/ draco tag list: @dracoswifeyy @axva03 @danielsharmannn @dumbledorrs @beiahadid @gloryekaterina @danastik @justmimithings @babydol @cauliflowercounty @booksmione @lexymoniqu @mirandabate28 @purpleskymalfoy @sabor-a-ksoo @malfoycrave @sonia-the-actual-witch @lunalovegoodsgirlfriend @mariah-can-dream

[weelittleweasley]

masquerade (part four) (d.m.)

prompt: draco malfoy was your rival in slytherin house. both of you ambitious, bold, and daring. as one of the few pureblood slytherin families left, you promised yourself that you would continue your lineage, but not with scum like malfoy. instead, you would meet a suitor at the annual masquerade ball hosted by the malfoys each year. but what if your prospective suitor is someone you didn’t expect…

warnings: language, mentions of sex, anxiety, tension, nausea, injury (snapping bones)

pairing: draco malfoy x fem! pureblood reader

word count: 7.4k

author note: thank you so much for all the love and support on this series! this is the final part! i hope you all enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it! i love you!

Things were over between you and Malfoy. Whatever it was that happened between you two was done with. The ordeal of trying to pretend like there wasn’t chemistry between you two while also hating the other’s guts all while maintaining excellent grades and completing your prefect duties was exhausting. Not to mention the confession that had slipped from your glossed lips that day in the library and Draco not reciprocating feelings was the straw that broke the camel’s back. 

That day in the library haunted you. Whenever you closed your eyes you saw the scene unfold. Lips pressed to sensitive skin, muffled moans ringing in your ears, the sensation of his cold, calloused hands running up your thighs as your nails dug into his shoulders. And then it came crashing down. The uncertainty and guilt that clouded his voice and his cold grey eyes empty as they stared at yours, warm and ripe and full of hope. The feeling of bile rising in your throat as he admitted his intentions as hot tears pricked up behind your eyes. For a moment, he looked sorry. But then it was washed away with a shake of his head as you ran away as fast as your legs could take you.

You felt foolish, letting yourself get so carried away with a childish fantasy that someone as evil and cruel as him would soften for someone else. You were destined to be rivals with Draco. It was foolish of you to try and derail that course. Foolish of you to surrender and admit what you were feeling. It told him that he was your weakness and now he could exploit that. Draco Malfoy was your Achilles Heel. 

Your friends immediately took note of your change in behavior after that day in the library. How you quietly sulked around the room for an hour, reading and writing in your small leather journal that your mother had gifted you. It was times like this where you needed her guidance most, but you were still scared to tell her what really happened at the ball that night. Instead, you plunged yourself in work to distract you from thinking about him and your feelings. Daphne encouraged you to talk out your feelings; that it wasn’t healthy to keep it all bottled in. You thanked her, but insisted that you rather write your feelings down for now rather than talk about them. In an odd way, seeing your thoughts laid out on a sheet of parchment was more satisfying than talking about it. The way the quill glided over the paper as you wrote down the inner workings of your mind. It was satisfying. 

The days trudged by and more time passed, but it was still so difficult to even look at Draco. Even if you had snuck a glance, your heart would sting and your stomach would feel queasy. Your mouth ran dry, your face flushed, and your palms were sweating. And somehow, each time you looked at him, Draco was always looking back. His eyes were cold and dry and empty. He had gone back to the way things normally were between you; hateful and bored with the other. You would instantly look away and shake your head, pushing the intrusive thoughts of him out of your head. 

Being in class with him was hard, but completing prefect duties was harder. Soon enough, you couldn’t take it anymore. Being on the same prefect schedule with him was torture, completing your rounds side by side, not a word spoken as you busied yourself with walking ahead of him or walking behind him. His presence made you too self-aware and too nervous to say anything. Eventually, you couldn’t take it anymore. You walked up to Pansy, another Slytherin prefect, and asked if you could switch shifts with her. She happily obliged, “Who’s your partner?”

Swallowing hard and sighing, you responded, “Malfoy” his name like poison in your mouth again. A familiar sensation. You once again hated his guts. It was a familiar, welcoming feeling. 

Pansy twisted her brows together, “Oh. Well, I don’t think so anymore. Draco got promoted to Head Boy. Professor Snape came in here weeks ago and gave him the position. I’m filling in for Draco’s position as prefect now. So it looks like we’ll be together regardless doing prefect duties.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach. “Wait, wait, hold on. Snape promoted Malfoy to Head Boy?” you spoke in disbelief. First of all, Draco was a horrific prefect, he wasn’t good with the first years like you were, he often used his position to take points away from houses and give points to Slytherin, and not to mention, doled out detentions if he was looked at the wrong way. “There were so many other choices for Head Boy and they chose him? What about Ernie Macmillan? Merlin’s sake, Ron Weasley is a better choice than that! If Granger is Head Girl, you think Malfoy is going to pay attention?” you ranted on and on, completely enraged that Draco had won at something yet again. You understood why Granger got Head Girl instead of you. She was the top student in the class as well as the favorite of Professor McGonagall. But Draco? That made no sense. It was like the universe knew you needed yet another reason to despise him.

Pansy observed your fuming nature as you paced back and forth around the Slytherin common room, biting at your nails as you groaned in frustration. Gently, she reached out and touched your arm. You stopped in your tracks and looked at her concerned eyes for you. You sighed and spoke, “I’m sorry, I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

She gave you a sad half smile. “I may not be as bright as you, (Y/N), but I know when something is bothering my best friend. You’ve been in this mood for weeks. Spending more hours in the library, keeping yourself up with studies, writing in that journal so often, stealing looks at Malfoy when you can, the way you tense up when his name is mentioned...” she speaks as you surrender, giving her hand a squeeze. “I don’t know all the details and I don’t have to, (Y/N). But just know that whatever he did or is doing...he’s a fool. A selfish, cowardly fool. You are so much better than him and you deserve much better than him.”

Her words make your heart warm as small tears form in your eyes. You had been so absent in your friend’s lives recently and yet they were so warm and loving and welcoming when you needed them most. Without saying a word, you pull Pansy into a warm hug as she hugs you tight. “I love you, Pans. Thank you.”

Pansy smiled into your neck as you hugged. “No need to thank me. I love you more.”

----------------

The days continued on and you were feeling better. Seeing Draco in the halls became easier, you no longer tightened your shoulders at the sight of him or held your breath when his name was mentioned in passing conversations. Instead, you made like he wasn’t there. It was much easier that way. 

What wasn’t easy was seeing Tracy Davis follow Draco around in the halls like a lovesick puppy. She would link her arm through his, giggling loudly at something he had spoken, dramatically throwing her head back. Part of you knew she was doing this for show, but part of you wondered if she was really happy, if Draco was really happy. Or was this just an alliance they had made against you in order to keep you down and make you feel worse about yourself.

You suppressed those feelings down and jotted in all into your notebook. However, a part of you still felt guilty doing this, especially when your mother asked you in her letters to you how you were, you lied and said you were great and enjoying your seventh year just fine. Lying to your mother felt like you were keeping the dirtiest secret from her. It was eating away at you. 

You hovered over your desk in your dormitory as Daphne and Pansy both sat on their beds, doing homework or reading. Daphne noticed you nervously bouncing your leg and playing with the quill in your hand as you stared at the parchment in front of you.

Daphne sat up and spoke, “Is it to your mum?” Without even turning to face her, you shake your head and bite your lip, trying to figure out where to start and how to tell her. “You don’t have to tell her everything, (Y/N). Tell her what you are comfortable sharing.”

Spinning around in the chair you say, “That’s the thing, Daph. I don’t even know what I’m comfortable sharing.” She gives you a sad look as Pansy closes her book and focuses her attention onto the conversation. “My family hates the Malfoy's. If I tell her that I was secretly seeing him here and there sporadically, I don’t know how she’ll react, nevertheless how my father will react...” you trail off. It wasn’t that your parents would loathe you or do anything rash to you. It was the threat of scandal amongst the other pureblood families that scared you. How would other families react to news of a (Y/L/N) having relations with a Malfoy? The threat was enough to keep your silence. You sigh, “I told Draco that day in the library that I was falling in love with him...” Your friends’ eyes widen. “I know, it’s a lot, but it was happening all so quickly and I blurted it out. But it was honest. There’s something about Malfoy that makes me tell him the truth. He’s like a magnet and he pulls it all out of me in one go. I think that’s one of the reasons I can’t stand to look at him. I’m afraid it’ll happen again,” you huff at Daphne and Pansy watch you sadly. “But back on the topic of my parents, I don’t know where to start. There’s so much to tell them.”

And that’s when it hits you. Your leather journal. You had been cataloging everything since the ball in there. There was no need to write a letter to your mother when you could just send her the pages of your journal. You spring to your feet and run to your bedside table, opening your drawer, and ripping out the pages that spoke of you and Draco. Pansy’s eyes widen in shock, “Woah, what’s that for?”

You run back to your desk and grab an envelope and seal it with wax and the stamp of your family’s crest. “No need to write it all down,” you walk to the window where your family’s owl, Athena, is perched, “when it’s already written down, is there?” You flash a smile to Pansy and Daphne, reassuring them that this was exactly what you needed. “Right to Mother, Athena. No time to waste,” you pet her head before she flaps her wings and takes off. 

Daphne and Pansy look at you quizzically as you smile. “It’s all written on those pages. Every thought. Every feeling. I want her to know. I need her guidance,” you tell them as they nod. Your mother always gave you the best advice and guidance whenever you needed it most. It always came from a place of fierce love and protection. Her rationale always made you feel better. And right now, you needed that more than ever.

It didn’t take long for your mother to receive your notebook pages and immediately write back to you. In fact, it took less than a day for Athena to be right back on your window sill, perched there with a content look on her face. Hopefully a good omen.

You sat on Daphne’s bed with her and Pansy, all chatting and eating sweets from Daphne’s mum’s care package from a while back. You all turned your heads to Athena and your stomach dropped. Her letter was here.

Springing from the bed, you walk to Athena and gently pluck the note from her beak. “Thank you, Athena,” you stroke her head as she gently coos at you. You walk back to Daphne’s bed and plop down, peeling the wax from the envelope as your heart thumps in your chest.

What could your mother have written? Was she cross about the fact that it was Draco? Was she surprise? Was she scared? Did your father have something to say about this?

Slowly, you unfolded the note and took a deep breath as Pansy placed a reassuring hand on your knee. “Dearest, (Y/N),” you start as you read out...

I knew the instant we got back from the ball that the situation was one that had hurt you deeply. I couldn’t imagine what it could have been; you looked like you were having such fun on the dance floor and with the suitor that you had been talking to. And then it dawned on your father and I that the only reason you would be upset was the suitor was not who you thought it was. It would have been someone you dreaded and there is only one person in the world you feel that way towards.

I didn’t want to say anything to upset you or press you into telling me the details of a conversation you didn’t want to have or were uncomfortable sharing. But I do want you to know that your father and I are not angry at you in any way shape or form. It’s alright that your suitor was Draco and that you felt some connection with him at the ball. 

Instantly, you let out a breath and relaxed. She wasn’t cross. You let out a light laugh and continue to read the letter out loud.

What I am surprised over is the fact that you continued to pursue something with him whether you realized it or not. But I should have know. Similar to your father, when you have your eyes on something, you do not give up easily. You fight for what you want until you know you can’t have it. And even then, you don’t back down. You always loved a challenge, something I have always admired about you.

The one thing that scares me, however, about this trait of yours is your liability to get hurt. Like you have. When you do see something you want, my dear child, you put everything on the line. Your feelings, your thoughts, and your heart. It’s such a beautiful thing, to be vulnerable about your feelings, and open to the suggestion of sharing your thoughts and feelings. But someone can take advantage of that as it seems Mr. Malfoy may have. 

Here’s what you need to know, my darling. Even though you have laid your thoughts and feelings and heart on the line to Mr. Malfoy, you don’t have to keep them on the line. He doesn’t not control you or your thoughts or your feelings or your heart. You are in control of those things. He cannot tell you how to think or feel or live. You are the one to make those decisions for yourself. Take back your control, darling. I know you can because I have seen you do it time and time again.

I’ve told you this many times and I will say it more and more times until your heart beats to the rhythm of the sentence. You have divine feminine energy within you. Use this to your ability. You have the energy of a thousand suns blazing in your eyes. Use this to your ability. Don’t melt yourself. Melt others with it. I know you can because I taught you how. 

(Y/N), I know you are brilliant in every way brilliance can take form. This is a mere set back in the grand life that you have ahead of yourself. I know you will push through this, it is just a matter of are you going to allow yourself to push through it?

As for your relationship with Mr. Malfoy, that is up to you. I can’t tell you how to think, feel, or live, just like he can’t tell you. But if you still find yourself longing for him after more time, then I think you have unsettled business. If he finds himself wanting the same thing...well, darling, I think you have your answer.

And for the record, may I just say, I have never seen you talk or write with such passion about someone like Draco Malfoy regardless of your standing with him at the time. You notice things about him, (Y/N). Just read your own journal. You notice the smallest details about him, the colors in his eyes, the way he talks, the sounds of his footsteps, the canter of his laugh. It’s all written down in those pages. The only time I have experienced passion like that is when your father wrote love letters to me when we were engaged. 

Now, my child, I leave you with this. What do you want to do?

If you need me, I am an owl away.

I love you most,

Mum

You close the note before you and just sigh, closing your eyes. Your mother has given you guidance, alright, but somehow you ended up more confused than before. You pull the note again and scan over her words as Pansy and Daphne wait for you to break the silence. Instead of speaking, you throw your head back and groan, flopping onto Daphne’s bed. 

The two girls both lightly laugh before Daphne says, “I’ve always loved your mum.”

You playfully slap her with the letter. “Not funny.”

Pansy starts in, “But hear her out, (Y/N). She has a point. About the way you talk about Draco...” She holds up the pages from your journal that your mum sent back as she flips through them. “May I?” she asks, seeing if she can read them out to you and Daphne as you nod your head. “His eyes are ones I can’t forget. To most they are blue. But they’re not just blue. Around his pupils are silver shards that dance around, like ice caps in the ocean. His eyes are cold, but hold so much potential. They melt when he looks into mine. But they don’t just melt for anyone, they melt for me; he melts for me.” 

Your two best friends look at you knowingly as you stare at them clueless with a shrug. “That’s poetic as all hell,” Daphne laughs, looking at the journal entries. “Look here! When he speaks to me, the words fall from his parted pink lips either the sweetest nectar or the most bitter poison. Either way, I still listen to him, hanging on every last word to ensure that I absorb it all before I can spit back a response just as witty and charming as his.” Daphne shakes her head. “And you mean to tell me that the two of aren’t smitten?”

You pull yourself up from laying down. “Okay, sure, I write about him nicely, but regardless. He told me he didn’t know what his feelings were towards me weeks ago. I haven’t spoken to him since. And it’s beside the point. He’s moved on with Tracy Davis now. The window of opportunity has slammed shut,” you inform them.

Daphne lets out a wild laugh as you furrow your brows in complete confusion. “Tracy Davis?” she cackles. “Are you daft? He can’t stand Tracy Davis!” she exclaims as you remain confused. “Sure, he and Davis danced with each other at that party and she’s around him, but that doesn’t mean he likes it. He’s been telling her to piss off since she tried spreading a rumor that he kissed her in the library!” she tells you as your eyes widen. This was news to you. “You’re forgetting that I’m also best friends with the dumb blonde bloke,” Daphne smirks. “I have intel.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me!” you smack her arm.

She holds up her hands in defense. “Hey, hey!” she exclaims, “Not anything revolutionary. Draco doesn’t talk about his feelings like that, so I don’t know exactly what he’s feeling,” she says as you groan and Pansy hits her over the head with a pillow. “Ouch! Merlin’s sake! You guys are bitches, you know that?” she rubs her head. “All I know is that he was hoping to find a certain someone in the stands of the quidditch match tomorrow...” she trails off and looks away with a smile on her face.

Your heart starts to flutter and your stomach does a flip as you swallow hard. He wanted you to come to the quidditch game tomorrow. Was he planning on telling you something? An apology of sorts? That was to be suspected after the way he acted weeks ago. “How do I know that he’s not going to be cruel to me again?” you speak wearily look to Pansy and Daphne for support. “I can’t just forget that he quite literally left me high and dry after the incident in the restricted section of the library.”

Pansy furrows her eyebrows in confusion and then her eyes widen. “You didn’t tell me that!”

Daphne hits Pansy in the arm, earning a sharp Ow! from her. “Oh, can it, Parkinson,” she huffs. “I’m not saying you should forgive him right away, (Y/N). He’d be asking for too much. But I’m saying this as both of your friends and for both of your sake’s...hear him out. Listen to what he has to say. And you can move from there. How does that sound?” she asks. You gulp and slowly nod. She was right. You didn’t need to forgive Draco for what he had done, but you did want to hear what he had to say for himself. 

“Brilliant,” Pansy smiled. “Now can you please tell me the tiny detail of the two of you banging in the library!” she yells as you laugh.

-----------------

You stood in the mirror and looked at yourself, nibbling on your bottom lip, nervous to leave your dormitory and head out to the quidditch stands. The Slytherin scarf draped across your neck felt tight as you loosened it to breathe freely. You flopped your hair to one shoulder as you thought about what was going on happen at the game. But you couldn’t think anymore or else you’d get sick. 

“It’s just a quidditch match,” you speak out loud so Daphne and Pansy can hear your thoughts. “It’s just a regular quidditch match.”

Daphne and Pansy look at you with a smile on their face. “Exactly. We’re gonna watch Slytherin kick some major Gryffindor ass and after we will, we’re going to celebrate with loads of fire whiskey and good music. Plus, Jamie sent me a care package with lots of Daisyroot Draught that we can part take in,” Pansy tells you, walking over to the mirror that you stare at, resting her chin on your shoulder. “You look adorable,” she tells you. “Come on,” she giggles. “We wanna get good seats.”

The three of you walk through the castle, chatting about the game, making your predictions of what will happen, who’s going to score first, and making bets on plays. “If the Gryffindor stands chant Weasley at any point in the game, you owe me ten galleons and a chocolate frog,” Daphne tells Pansy.

You laugh, “Yeah, right. In his dreams. If they start chanting his name, I’ll give you fifteen galleons and three chocolate frogs.”

Daphne smiles and extends her hand, “Deal.”

The three of you are too distracted to realize that you are passing the Slytherin locker room before you halt in your tracks when someone crossed your path. The three of you stop in your tracks as your fiery eyes meet his icy ones. You look at his eyes, expecting them to stay still like they have for weeks. But contrary to what you thought, they crack under your heat and gently start to puddle and melt under yours. 

Daphne breaks the silence first, “Good luck out there, Malfoy. Don’t let us down.” She smiles at him as Draco meets her gaze and he reciprocates.

“No need to worry, we’ve got a game plan for victory,” Draco tells her as Daphne high fives him. Draco slowly looks back at you as you watch him intently for his next move. “I’m glad you guys came,” he speaks, but his eyes don’t leave yours. They remain on you the whole time monitoring your reaction as you inhale quietly at his words. A small smile plays on his lips before he speaks, “I should get out there. Game is starting soon.”

With a small wave goodbye, he scurries off, catching up to the rest of his teammates as you three continue to walk to the stands. Pansy hits your shoulder teasingly. “Someone looked happy to see you.”

“Oh, shut the fuck up,” you laugh at her.

You and your friends make it to the Slytherin section of the quidditch stands, students of all years gathering to watch the game, hooting and hollering for their house. The excitement in the air was palpable and you couldn’t help but smile. Quidditch matches were always great fun.

Surveying the stands, you try to find other faces that you recognized. That’s when you stumble upon Tracy Davis with #03 drawn in green make up on her cheek. That was Draco’s number. You tap Daphne on the shoulder and nod in her direction. “What the fuck is that?” you ask, genuinely curious. Daph said there was nothing between Tracy and Draco, but this could prove otherwise.

Daphne groans, “You’re bloody kidding me.”

Daphne, with no sense of control, stands up on the the bench and yells out over the crowd. “Oi! Davis!” she screams, drawing everyone’s eyes to Daphne and then to Tracy. “Get Malfoy’s number off your cheek, eh?! He’s got his eyes on someone else and he’s told you he’s not interested! Need I remind you of the little conversation we had three days ago, yeah?” she threatens as Tracy’s eyes go wide before wiping the number off of her cheek with her scarf. “That’s more like it.”

She hops down from the bench as the crowd around her laughs and you blush wildly. “What was that for? And what conversation did you have with Davis that gave her that reaction?”

Daphne smirks, “Let’s just say that if I catch David flirting with Malfoy, she’ll have bigger problems to worry about then me calling her out in front of the student body.” Madam Hooch’s whistle blows. “Alright, now, pay attention, the game is starting.”

Within seconds, the Slytherin quidditch team and Gryffindor quidditch team fly out on their brooms onto the field as everyone begins to cheer. You could feel the adrenaline in the stands. As you clapped, you watched as Draco flew out smoothly on his broom, running his fingers through his platinum hair as you saw his eyes search the stands for someone. His blue eyes scanned the stands quickly before they found yours as you looked back at him. Sighing, you let a small smile creep up onto your lips before a smile appeared on Draco’s. A rosy blush appeared on his cheeks before he looked away quickly and refocusing on the game. Slowly, the same rosy hue appeared on yours and you smiled to yourself. 

“Did I just see that right?” Pansy teases as you roll your eyes.

“Oh, would you focus on the game, Parkinson!” you laugh, pushing her arm jokingly as she laughs.

And soon enough, they are off. Draco immediately off to catch the snitch against Harry, the rest of the teams on the field, zooming past on their brooms. Draco flies around the arena on his broom and you can’t help but watch in awe. As much as you hated to admit it, the boy was good. He knew exactly how to maneuver himself in a manner that would get him just ahead of Harry, flying just underneath him before dying upwards to abruptly cut him off. He was a skilled seeker.

The game was going on for quite sometime now and people were biting their nails. There were so many close calls of where the snitch had almost been caught but was just out of reach for Draco or Potter. 

You watched intently as green uniforms zipped past maroon ones as the crowd cheered as their beloved quidditch team zoomed by them. “Come on, Malfoy,” you whisper to yourself, watching him as he and Harry bump into each other and push past to catch the snitch.

That was the thing that you noticed about Draco whenever he was doing something that required patience. He would get frustrated. You could see it now as he contorted his face and scrunched up his nose as his eyes darted between the snitch and Potter. The grip on his broom was iron as he continued to soar through the the arena, desperately reaching for the snitch before it zipped another way. 

As the game kept on, you nervously danced in your stance. “I don’t know if I can watch,” Pansy nibbled on her painted black nails. “It’s driving me nuts.”

You would agree with Pansy, but you couldn’t take your eyes off the field as Draco continued to zoom back and forth and back and forth, your head growing dizzy by how intently you watched him.

Draco was growing more irritable by the second, you could tell by his body language. His mind was elsewhere as he looked around the field, losing track of the snitch. He wasn’t in the game. 

His eyes darted around, but before he could realize, the bludger was hurling towards him at lightning speed. With a hit to the gut, Draco fell off his broom and right onto the grassy ground as the crowd gasped. Your heart sunk and your mind instantly yelled for you to go to him. “Oh, shit,” you whisper as you look at the ground worriedly as Draco held onto his side, writhing in pain, eyes sealed shut. “I have to go to him,” you say without much thought.

Before anyone can protest, you are running down from the stands and to the field as you can hear Madam Hooch blow the whistle and pause the game due to an injury. Draco is immediately taken to the infirmary as you watch him be carried off the field. 

You follow the group of mediwitches as they bring Draco to Madam Pomfrey, a few of his teammates alongside him, trying to ease his mind. You could hear Draco speak about how they should put the alternate Seeker in and finish the game. He spoke about how they needed the win, but Zabini kept saying that the game would still be paused until Madam Pomfrey knew he was alright and didn’t break any bones. Draco groaned, insisting that he was fine and that he even thought he could finish the game, but it just earned him laughs.

As they put Draco in a hospital bed, you waited to go in, instead standing outside, biting your nails nervously. He would be just fine, but that didn’t stop you from worrying. 

You intently listen in on the conversation happening inside with Madam Pomfrey, Draco, Zabini, and Goyle. You hear Draco groan in pain and Madam Pomfrey state, “Two broken ribs. Nothing too serious, but enough to keep you out for the rest of the game.” Draco tries to convince Pomfrey to let him play, but she just shakes her head and speaks, “Absolutely not, my dear. Can’t risk it. Anyway, boys, hold down, Mr. Malfoy’s arms. This may cause him a bit of pain...Ferula!” she chants as you hear bones snap back into place and Draco cry out in pain which makes you wince at his voice. “There we go. You can let him go, boys, thank you,” she tells him. “Drink this. It’ll help you feel better,” she instructs. “Now, rest. You boys tell Madam Hooch that Mr. Malfoy will be just fine. The game can go on if you see fit.”

Draco sighs and starts devising, “Put Harper in. He’ll be just fine. Keep doing what we’re doing and tell Harper no matter what Potter does to throw him off balance, push through. At the end of the day, Potter doesn’t know his ass from his elbow.” You hear Goyle and Zabini exchange a few words with Draco, making chatter.

Taking a deep breathe, you decide that now was the time to make your presence know. Slowly, you walk into the entrance of the hospital wing and watch as Draco is laid in his hospital bed, Goyle and Zabini at the edge of the bed. Other students are in other hospital beds, either resting or chatting to their visitors. You softly smile as your eyes land on Draco as you see him sitting up, wincing in pain. He tells his friends that he’s fine, but he clutches onto his side and winces. Poor boy.

Slowly, Draco scans the room and his eyes fall on you as they widen. He’s shocked to see you are there to say the least. “Um,” Draco stutters. “You guys should get back onto the field. Remember, play the offensive. Defense will fall back if we need to,” he directs before Goyle and Zabini walk away.

Zabini looks at Goyle knowingly before he looks at you, “(Y/L/N).” He smirks.

You nod, “Goyle, Zabini.”

Goyle smiles, “Have fun.”

You gulp a little before making your way to Draco’s bed and stand by him. “You took a pretty nasty blow, yeah?” you chuckle.

Draco sighs with a small smile, “Nothing I can’t handle.” You just look at him for a moment, the two of you just looking at each other, typical. You look around and spot the chair next to his bed as you point to it, questioning if you can sit with your eyes. “Please,” he tells you.

You sit in the chair beside his bed and clear your throat awkwardly. 

It’s silent for a while, neither of you knowing how to start this conversation. 

Draco is the first to speak, “I’m glad you came to the game. Even though you left now to come see me, I’m still glad you came.”

“Of course,” you nod your head. “I love watching you play quidditch. W-Well, I mean, everyone I suppose,” you stutter over your words as Draco smiles gently at you. 

It’s silent again. This was painful.

Draco sighs, “I obviously wanted to do this in a different setting, but I’m still going to say it.” You swallow hard as you bite down on your lip, waiting to hear what Draco has to say. “I’m a coward, (Y/N). I am. You’ve always been braver than me and I admit it. In everything. You’ve always been bolder, more confident, and more unapologetic than I have been and I’ve always envied you for it in more ways than one,” he speaks. “I’m a coward to not saying anything to you after the ball. I’m a coward for not giving you an explanation for my behaviors. And most of all I’m a coward and a dick for treating you the way I did in the library weeks ago.”

“Draco, I-”

“Please,” he begs you. “Don’t make excuses for me. I know we’ve had it out for each other for years and I guess the night we shared at the ball made me question everything I’ve ever known about our relationship at that scared the hell out of me,” he confesses. He felt that same way that you did, but it was comforting to know that you were both in the same boat. “You were trying to be upfront with me about things and I only played games with you and I’m sorry. The thought of being with someone that I was supposed to hate with every cell inside my body was something that made me sick. I tried to avoid you at all costs, but at the end of the day...I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Your heart beats hard against your ribs and your stomach is doing flips. Your mouth is dry and your mind is mush. Was this real? Draco was confessing his feelings?

“I know our families have vendettas against each other, but I can’t live that that when I know how I feel about you,” he confesses.

A shaky smile appears on your face as you deeply inhale. “And...how is it you feel about me?” you lean in closer, resting your elbows on your knees, propping your head up with your hands teasingly.

This makes Draco chuckle. “Well,” he clears his throat. “I hate the way that you always seem to show up at the most inconvenient times,” he jokes as you giggle. “I hate the way that we get along like a house on fire when we least want to, I hate the way that you know exactly how to push my buttons, but I know exactly how to push them back, I hate the way you can just give me a look and you can have me thinking about that look for weeks,” he breathes as you blush. “I hate the way that I didn’t recognize your beautiful eyes the moment I looked at them in that bloody ballroom,” he tells you. “I hate the way that I didn’t kiss you that night,” he speaks as your heart starts beating faster and harder, you can hear it in your ears. “I hate the way that I didn’t tell you how I felt about you that day in the library.”

You sit up straight and speak with all sincerity in your voice. “Tell me now, Draco,” you speak just above a whisper. “Please.”

He sighs, “I’m not falling in love with you, (Y/N).” 

Your heart stops. It sinks into your stomach. The room starts to spin. What?

“Because I’m already in love with you.”

You let out a shaky breath as you chuckle. “Merlin, Malfoy,” you breathe out and shake your head. “I’ll break your ribs again, don’t tempt me.”

Draco laughs, “I’m sure you would, princess.” Your heart flutters at his nickname for you that he had given you weeks ago in the library. “But I do. I’m in love with you. I just didn’t realize it at the time, but it’s true. And I don’t expect you to complete forgive and forget everything that went down between us. But I just want to know that we still have a chance together.” You smile and hold his hand in yours giving it a squeeze, letting him know that this was quite alright. “I don’t believe in fate or destiny,” he tells you, referring back to that first conversation that you had in the gardens at the ball, “But I do believe that night happened for a reason. And you and I are supposed to be here. Together. Now.”

Without saying another word, you lean in and kiss him. Your lips are gentle on his, not nearly as rough or desperate as your other kisses have been. It’s sweet and it’s soft and it’s just as passionate as your others have been. His other hand cups your face and draws you closer to him as he inhales deeply, savoring this moment between the two of you. Slowly, you draw away from each other and press your foreheads against each other, resting there for a moment.

You slowly smile and let out a breathy laugh, “You really drive me mad.”

Draco smiles, “Get used to it. Because I’m not stopping anytime soon, my love.”

--------------------

Months have passed. Graduation was complete, you graduated second in the class right behind Granger and Draco not too far behind you. It was something you would hold over his head for the rest of his life and something he would grow to hate (but secretly love how competitive you still were).

It was the summer now, the grass was lush and green in the countryside and white and yellow flowers erupted all over the gardens of the Malfoy Manor. You admired each one as you went for your morning stroll, book in hand as you quietly read to yourself, flipping the pages every so often.

You let the fresh summer air fill your lungs as you smiled to yourself happily. The gentle breeze made the skirt of your sundress dance as you walked through the gardens, letting your finger tips brush the lush brush underneath you. The manor was beautiful in the early afternoon.

As you continued to stroll, you heard, “Love?”

“By the roses, darling!” you called out with a smile in your voice as you heard Draco call out for you.

Soon enough, there he was, dressed in fresh pressed tan trousers and a crisp white shirt. His platinum blonde hair was swept back perfectly as he ran his hands through it. “Hello, gorgeous,” he smirks as he walks up to you, arms wrapping around your waist and ducking his head down to place a sweet kiss to your lips as you smile. 

Draco lips danced with a smirk as you furrowed your brows, knowing he was up to something. “What did you do?” you giggle.

He scoffs, “What? I can’t look at you and smile?” He teasingly pokes at your side as you knock his bicep with your book. Draco looks next to him as the erupting rose bush and with a snap of his fingers, a white rose finds its way his hands. “For you, my dear.” Just like he did months ago at the ball. Your heart flutters.

You smile and accept the rose with a kiss on his lips swiftly. “Thank you,” you laugh. Draco links his arm with yours, continuing to stroll through the gardens with you.

“You know the drill,” he sighs. “Rose, bud, thorn. Hit me with it.” Smiling, you think, “Rose. It’s really a perfect day outside. I’m delighted to spend the day out here. Bud. I’m looking forward to my parents’ arrival at the manor today. And I don’t think there is a thorn today. So far, so good.” Draco smiles at you and kisses your temple. “Your turn.”

He thinks. “No thorn for me either. Rose is spending the day with your parents. Bud is only two more weeks until I get to call you Mrs. Draco Malfoy,” he pulls you closer to his side. He holds your left hand up so he can see the ring that he had placed on your ring finger just three months before. The ring glimmered in the sunshine as he inspected it. “I did quite a bloody good job, didn’t I?” he praises himself as you roll your eyes.

But he was right. The ring was beautiful (and large). A beautiful diamond set in the middle of two emeralds. Draco had gotten the ring custom made for you. He had taken the mask that you had worn to the masquerade ball and had the ring made from the jewels on the mask. The sentiment was enough to have you a crying, babbling mess when he told you after he had proposed. 

Draco had proposed right after you graduated. He wanted to get married and start your lives together as soon as possible. He had proposed in a very subtle way, but you couldn’t ask for anything more. Draco had taken you to a beautiful flat in the heart of London. It overlooked the city and had copious amounts of space. That’s when he told you that he had bought it for the two of you. It was close enough to Healer School and St. Mungo’s so you could both study and then work couldn’t be too far. It had a large master bedroom, a guest room, an office, and another smaller bedroom that Draco suggested could be a nursery. And that’s when he got on one knee and asked you to be his forever.

You smiled at your fiancé. “You did a lovely job, darling,” you smiled up at him, running your fingers through his hair. “Good Godric, I love you so much.”

“I love you so much more than that,” he challenged as you rolled your eyes. “Forever and always, my love.”

Your heart fluttered at the thought. Forever and always with Draco Malfoy. If you had told yourself at the beginning of the year that you would be engaged to your sworn rival, you would have laughed in your own face. But the now, you couldn’t imagine doing life without him.

If this wasn’t proof that destiny or fate existed, you didn’t know what did.

------

TAGLIST: @pxroxide-prinxcesss @kerie-prince @quadrupledeckertaco @labualill @jasmin3414 @anxietyspacetart-15 @andy-blur @alicemaryfairy @fivenightslaughter @harrysboo28 @babydol @brattypeony @dracoswhore007 @mendes-marvel @linmalfoy @sylvanslytherin @ama0310 @pettyluxury @cecile-sucks @bxbyvivi @muse-et-espirit @aylinolmez @jjeykayy @xoxohollands @itsbebeyyy @wontlastimokwiththat @suavenaya@quacksonsssandtea @lana-isabelle @abitofeverythinggg @thatguppienamedbae @renaisancebaby @calamislunafox @sofiasanabriaaa @smithdani @weaslebeemalfoy @goldenpeaxh @shaniajones  @fa-me @imbadwithusernames @stillyoursfaithfully @cherrytomato2 @idyllicsongbook @sarcasticallywitty15 @itsalltaken-blog @whattheactualfuckyeet @sahvlren @dumspirospero-1 @Gabby101rose @anythings-n-everythings @leydileyla @another-lonely-heart-blog

[clnriswood]

DRACO MALFOY X CEDRIC DIGGORY X READER

Something Different | Part Two

a/n: Hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Let the love triangle commence!

tag list: @call-me-banana-bandit @pillowjj @truly-insatiable @natsiboo @justmesadgirl @boredoffmebox @jjjmaybank @jejegu

X

“Can’t get this blooming rubbish to work,” Ernie Macmillan grumbled.

He, along with a select few of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff N.E.W.T. qualifying students, were huddled close in Flitwick’s musty classroom. As their class was drawing to its close it seemed that not many had yet grasped the spell’s complexity. The girl, with her hair in two tight french braids, had her legs folded up in a criss cross shape as she focused all her might into what was growing to be harder and harder spellwork.

“Aguamenti,” she said, forming a sideways S shaped arc.

Sure enough, a stream of water burst forth from her wands tip, only, the liquid lasted a mere second before sputtering out like a broken down vehicle. Beside her, Cedric was having more luck. Effortlessly, he created a perfect arc of crystal clear water, which he, with little effort, aimed backwards so as to shoot into his opened mouth. As the girl watched him, mouth agape, he gave her an infuriating wink of his ocean blue eyes.

“Show off,” she scowled with defeated pout.

Cedric, though it was by no means intentional, then spat his water on her with a bellowing laugh. Out of sheer disgust and retaliation, the girl raised her wand and spoke the charm once more, but this time it proved to be far more effective. A tidal wave's worth of water hit Cedric’s smug face, making him fly sideways onto the ground for cover as the Hufflepuff side of the class went berserk with laughter. Cedric, though sopping wet, looked happy as ever as he went climbing back into his seat, water droplets dancing off the edges of his eyes, nose, and lips, like diamonds. Professor Flitwick, unsure whether he should be impressed or not, flourished his wand and turned the student’s clothes back to being bone dry in an instant.

Across the room, it seemed the only Gryffindor with the same capabilities as Cedric was Hermione Granger, who was trying with much difficulty to teach her friends the day’s spell.

“Whadda you reckon?”

Ron Weasley sat beside her, his wand spurting a pathetic gurgle of water from its tip. The ginger boy seemed rather impressed with himself, given.

“Ronald,” Hermione snapped.

Beside them, Harry Potter mustered a similarly pathetic ooze of water. He seemed to be amusing himself, watching it spit up all over his desk with an idiotic grin at Ron.

“You’re not saying it with enough energy,” Seamus Finnigan chimed in. “See? Watch.”

Seamus sent his wand aggressively up through the air, his face scrunched as he practically yelled his aguamenti charm into existence. Professor Flitwick had turned abruptly to watch the magic take effect, and was, due to his unfortunate placement, sent toppling off his little stack of books. The water charm slapped him clean onto the floor, making the drenched little man squeak with shock.

“Finnigan,” he spluttered as he stood up, his clothes dripping a halo shaped puddle around his feet, “detention!”

Unsurprisingly, class was cut just a little early that day.

. . .

“What was that about, last night?”

She caught up with her Gryffindor comrades the second she was out of class. Her boots thwacked the stone floors of the halls loudly as she struggled to keep up pace so as to get updated and still make her next class on time.

“What was what about?” Harry replied dumbly.

“Your nose you fool!” she hit him against the back of his head with her notebook.

“Ow,” he snorted, rubbing his neck.

“You’ll have Malfoy to blame for that,” Hermione answered matter of factly while Ron tended jokingly to his friend’s nonexistent neck wound.

“I figured just as much,” the girl said, sliding in beside her friend and keeping up her pace as the idiot boys fell behind.

“You did?” Hermione raised a brow.

“Yeah, he had a spot of blood on his knuckles,” she explained.

“Clever,” Hermione grinned, her brown eyes shining with satisfaction.

“I s’pose,” she shrugged, itching to move the conversation along. “Anyways, what exactly was Harry doing that got him his nose smashed in by Malfoy’s fists?”

“Not just his fists!” Ron called from behind. “The git stomped on him too!”

“Brutal!” Harry chortled.

Hermione, exasperated, turned quickly around so as to procure her wand and send fizzling pink sparks up by the boy’s feet, making them instantly shut up.

“As I was going to say,” Hermione said cooly, as if nothing had just happened, “Harry was spying on Malfoy. He wanted to confirm a suspicion of his.”

“And what might that be?” the girl said, her braids swaying on her chest as they closed in on their destination.

“Harry thinks Malfoy is a death eater,” she said.

Her stomach flipped like a pancake in the fryer that was her stomach, “and?”

“Reckons he is,” Hermione said, her pace slowing, “but I don’t know. I think it’s likely he was just trying to show off to his friends. I mean, he’s sixteen years old! And it’d be very odd to have a sixteen year old boy working for You-Know-Who, don’t you think?!”

“Yeah,” the girl replied flatly, ignoring the continuous churn of her belly, “it would be odd.”

. . .

Herbology was off to a calm start that year. Professor Sprout seemed quite pleased to see the returning faces of Neville, Cedric, Y/N, and a few of her other star students. She’d explained that they were to kick off the school year by repotting the plants from the Hufflepuff Common Room, as they’d gone the summer in their untouched pots and burst forth with so much new life that they now required transplanting. As Cedric had put it, it seemed the plants had “gotten busy that summer.” This had sent the girl roaring. Her, Cedric, and Neville had then stood together, enjoying the hot sun that sizzled their skin to a light fry and making easy conversation. Being Hufflepuffs, Y/N, Cedric, and a few of their fellow housemates agreed to transport the plants back to their Common Room following the end of their lessons. On their way out of the class, now that she’d gotten Cedric alone, the girl updated him on what Hermione had told her. She held a large brown pot in her hands, one dripping with long and lively vines, while Cedric carried a bundle of singing sprouts.

“What, so you reckon he is a death eater then?” Cedric’s brows lifted as they made their way across the sun soaked grounds.

It smelt of dirt and flora, but the girl wasn’t sure if the source was the grounds or just herself and Cedric.

“Dunno,” she shrugged, “but I think… I think there’s something different about him.”

Cedric threw her the side eye, “yeah?”

The girl sighed, blowing a puff of air from her mouth as she attempted to phrase her next words in the least ridiculous way possible.

“Malfoy looked at me.”

Cedric stopped walking, “what?”

“He looked at me,” she said again.

Her friend blinked at her like she’d gone loony, “and then what?”

“And then nothing,” she replied.

“So you- now wait a minute let me get this right,” Cedric said, rubbing his long fingers over his mouth so as to suppress his grin.

“Oh shut up,” she grumbled and began her march away.

Cedric was laughing as he continued, chasing her down.

“So you think it’s possible something is off with Malfoy because he looked at you?”

“You don’t understand,” she explained, sort of folding her arms grumpily over her chest while keeping a grip on the plant, “he never looks at me.”

Cedric had gone silent for a moment, making her feel like an idiot.

“You don’t believe me,” she sighed as they entered the school’s halls.

Cedric stopped her, a firm hand coming to her right arm and making her feet come to a halt. The boy gave a little smile, looking down at her with those ocean eyes and shaking his head. Little dimples arose on the perfect curvatures of his bronzed skin.

“I believe,” he said, “that you see the best in people. Even when they don’t see it themselves.”

She let his words sink in as the chirping of nearby birds filled her silence.

“So... d’you think there is some part of him worth trying to save?” she asked.

Cedric looked just a little frustrated as he replied, “I think that even if there was, it wouldn’t be your job to do.”

He was right, she knew that much. But she couldn’t help but to wonder; if he wasn’t hers to save, who was?

After bringing their first round of plants by the Common Room, the two made a rendez-vous to meet with Julian, Ernie, and fellow housemate Hannah Abbot, who seemed to hang close by Ernie. From there, the group scarfed down a quick meal (Y/N had a particular craving for pasta that night), and headed back off to the greenhouse. It was dark out now, and the girl pondered Draco’s absence from the Great Hall as they padded jovially across the green grass. On her second trip, she handled a particularly sleepy cactus, who snored loudly in its cozy little pot.

“Last one back has to get us all butterbeers from the kitchen?” Hannah had asked her friends with a wink.

They laughed in agreement before all promptly bolting off towards the castle, soaked in the white of the moonlight. Cedric unsurprisingly took the lead, with Y/N following close behind. Her boots slammed against the hard floor, her friends squealing as they weaved in and out of groups of disgruntled students in the hallways. She could’ve sworn she remembered bolting past Cho Chang, who looked gloomily off in Cedric’s direction, but truth be told she wasn’t paying all that much attention. That was, until she caught sight of a ghostly figure sweeping down a nearby corridor void of students. Realizing who it was, she went skidding to a halt, Julian flying past her with a cackle. She glanced once to her friends, mentally coming to a decision, and then back to the figure in the corridor. Silently, she slipped aside and trailed the boy down the hall, following quietly after him for about a minute before he took notice of her presence.

“Why are you following me?” he grumbled lowly without turning.

She planted her feet, pushing a strand of hair from her face as she spoke nervously, “erm-”

Draco Malfoy whipped around, one brow raised high in confusion, “Y/N?”

He looked just as gaunt as the day before, only now he’d peeled off his robes, wearing just the shirt and emerald tie beneath it, the white sleeves of his undershirt rolled to his elbows. His ice colored eyes pierced holes through her inquisitive stare.

“Me,” she affirmed with a crooked half smile.

“I thought you were-” he started with a shake of his head before deciding against it. “I thought you were someone else.”

“Oh,” she replied quite dumbly, “sorry?”

He just blinked at her with an exasperated shake of his head, “nevermind.”

She didn’t exactly know how to respond to that, or what had even brought her down the corridor in the first place, so she just cleared her throat with a kind of half-smile-half-grimace. Draco, realizing she wasn’t going to explain herself, did it for her, his face resuming the usual sneer he reserved for her.

“Well, what do you want?” he said, eyes moving over her shoulders so as to verify no one was coming their way, like he wouldn’t want to be caught dead speaking to her.

“I just,” she stuttered awkwardly, “thought I’d say hello.”

The boy wore an expression of utter bewilderment, “what?”

“Hello,” she repeated with a nervous laugh. “I mean, I saw you in the Great Hall last night and you just looked a bit down so I reckoned I’d see how you were doi-”

“Fine,” he cut her off, the word sour on his tongue as he grew suddenly defensive. “I’m fine. Not that it’s your business anyway. Or that I’d care what you think. Or that I was even looking at you. Or that I ever would.”

She felt her heart go momentarily heavy with upset, but she refused to show it on her face. Where the hostility had come from she didn’t know. Why she’d bothered to think he may have quelled it was even more of a question mark to her. Draco glared her down with those big blue eyes, the strong line of his jaw giving off a frustrated little pulse as he awaited her response. Not wanting to show him her hurt, the girl just smiled and let loose an airy little laugh.

“Of course,” she said. “Because the day Draco Malfoy is vulnerable is the day the sky falls, right?”

As she’d expected he’d had no verbal response to this. Instead, his scowl softened, just for a second, and he blinked through his long lashes with a great and buried sadness.

“Your problem isn’t that you don’t have anyone to save you,” she voiced aloud, more to herself than him as she came to a spoken realization, “it’s that you don’t want to be saved.”

And so she resumed a brisk walk, moving past the boy and giving him a light slam of her shoulder as she pushed him aside and continued down the corridor. The smell of mint and a delicious dark cologne swam through the air around her, but she huffed it grumpily out as she made way in the opposite direction of the boy. She’d almost rounded the corner when he suddenly called her name. She stopped, not turning but simply staring forward in silence as she waited his turn to speak.

“You have dirt on your cheek,” he said quite loudly.

The girl gave a half turn, throwing the snow white boy a glance. His hands were stuffed into his pant’s pockets, his eyes sparkling just a tad brighter than they had a moment ago. While his words were harsh, his voice hadn’t been. Rather, it was pitched more gently and high, like he was -- joking with her? Moreover, if she focused hard enough on the curvature of his round pink lips she could just make out the beginnings of a smile. Likely this was Draco’s way of silently apologizing, she assumed. Lord knew he would never actually apologize, after all.

The boy’s lips twitched, and his eyes extended a gentle and silent plea for her to say something back.

She sighed in defeat, shaking her head and giving him the satisfaction of a sheepish grin, “goodnight, Draco.”

. . .

“The hell happened to you?” Ernie asked.

The girl had come stumbling through the Common Room’s secret entrance. In one hand was her still sleeping cactus, and in the other was her wand, which she currently used to levitate five full mugs of chilled butterbeer.

She loved her Common Room. It was huge and shaped like one big barrel. Within its round shape were  dozens of squashy brown and yellow sofas, floral tapestries, thick cream colored rugs, and foliage of all shapes and sizes scattered across the ceiling and walls. The floors were a dark oak wood, the walls were a big light brick, and the windows were tall and thin with mosaic yellow flowers imprinted into them. The ceiling stretched so high she had to crane her neck if she wanted to see the golden chandeliers and hanging green potted plants that huddled neatly around them. Protruding from about halfway up the room, against a wall covered entirely in moss and vines, was a wooden ledge about the third of the size of the space that had been transformed to be a miniature extension of a second floor. Currently, an orange and red fire roared from the stone fireplace her friends were huddled by, and a plate overflowing with hot freshly baked chocolate chip cookies was being devoured by them.

“Here, let me help,” Cedric flew up from the sofa to greet her.

The boy snatched the cactus from her one hand while the girl passed butterbeers around to her friends. They all clinked their glasses and took appreciative swigs from their mugs as Cedric used his magic to latch the little cactus onto a spare patch of wall with his free hand. Afterwards, he joined Y/N by her side, sinking down into the heavenly cushions beside her, his shoulder pressed comfortingly against hers. He too had stripped his robes off, and had one long arm leisurely against the back of the sofa, almost touching the girl but not quite. His white shirt clutched attractively to the obvious curvatures of his chest beneath it… not that she’d been looking, or anything.

“I got distracted,” the girl decided on telling them the half truth as she took a bite out of a gooey cookie.

“By what exactly?” Hannah laughed curiously.

“Uh-” the girl’s brain, scrambled, shot off the first thing that came to mind, “Cho Chang.”

“Cho?” Cedric asked with an arch of his perfect brows.

Her two boy-friends seemed to find this amusing, as they both snorted into their sleeves and suddenly found interest in looking directly at Cedric.

“Yeah,” she continued, taking safety in the clearly effective lie, “she looked really upset.”

“Wonder why that is, huh Cedric?” Julian prodded his friend with his wand.

Cedric had gone suddenly flush with pink, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth as he gave a flustered and incoherent mutter.

Only Hannah seemed to have some sympathy, saying, “drop it, boys.”

Ernie blinked slowly at her before splitting his lips into a massive grin as a lightbulb went off in his head.

“Dropped,” he announced. Then, “actually, I’m quite tired. I’d better go to bed, right Julian?”

Julian, catching on, mimicked his friend.

“Wait-” Cedric started, his eyes going wide with panic.

He looked to Hannah with desperation, but she reluctantly stood, putting on a lousy act as she yawned unconvincingly. Ernie gave her a thumbs up from the boy’s staircase as she forced out her declaration of sudden sleepiness.

“Me too, uh, yeah. Goodnight you two.”

And so the three friends went their separate ways, leaving just Y/N and one very disgruntled looking Cedric Diggory in the Common Room. For a minute afterwards the two friends just sat in silence, neither wanting to acknowledge whatever strange occurrence had just taken place.

Finally, the girl turned against the sofa, folding her legs up on top of each other as she blinked at Cedric with a chuckle. Cedric mimicked her, the two facing each other.

“Alright, Ced?” she smiled at her friend.

He gave a defeated sigh, his ocean blue eyes meeting her own as he rubbed nervously at his neck. The girl giggled as she leaned forward and pulled a hand from his sun kissed skin, bringing it into her lap so that she could hold his palm against her own. This only seemed to agitate the boy further.

“Y/N-” he started with a stutter. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

She looked at him with wide eyes, releasing his fingers, “yeah?”

Cedric looked down at the girl’s now emptied hands and then back at her face, giving a loud clear of his throat.

“Um,” he started anxiously, his mouth half open as he awaited more unarriving words to come out.

“Yeah?” she said again, a little more worry in her voice this time.

“I-” he tried, shaking his head. “You-”

She gave the boy a nervous and worried smile, “yes, Cedric?”

His breath came fast and broken as he gave a defeated sigh, “you have dirt on your cheek.”

“Oh?” her shoulders relaxed as she released the boy’s hands.

She didn’t know what she’d been expecting but it definitely wasn’t that.

Cedric looked like he wanted to slam his skull into a wall, his friend not taking notice as she unsuccessfully attempted to use the back of her hand to rub her cheek clean. The boy grimaced, to himself not to her, and then pushed his friend’s hand gently aside with impatience. Her eyes flickered up to his as he gave his index finger a gentle suck before moving it to the girl’s cheek. His one hand came up to her chin, holding it up against the dying fire’s glow, his other coming to gently sweep at her dirtied skin. She couldn’t help but stare into his massive focused eyes, her body unfamiliar to this sort of touch from him. He looked more at ease staring at her cheek than in her eyes, she noticed. She also noticed just how impossible it was to not notice how attractive he looked with the fire’s shadows flickering across his perfectly defined nose and lips. Her breath seemed to get just a little glued in her throat at the sight. And then, satisfied, Cedric’s eyes moved back to hers. Well, if it wasn’t already before, that had her breath stuck to her throat for sure.

This was the closest their faces had ever come to one another, she realized. Cedric’s eyes were glossed over with some sort of expression she’d never read in them before, and that look alone sent her heart roaring dangerously quickly to life. It also didn’t make it any less tense that it had gone deathly quiet, the only sound in the room being that of their gentle breathing. The boy swallowed down the lump in his throat, his eyes flickering ever so quickly down to the girl’s mouth and back up to her eyes, where they seemed to undecidedly move back and forth over her. She was still very aware of the feeling of his hand beneath her jaw, forcing her stare to his own.

Seeming to catch on all of a sudden, Cedric released her, blinking quickly and sucking in a deep breath.

“Uh, y- you’re all good,” he stood, backing quickly away and putting distance between himself and his friend.

The girl, still a little in shock, just gave a weak laugh and inaudible thank you.

Cedric ran a hand through his gold-brown locks, his eyes on the floor as he moved backwards further, mumbling a quick goodnight before practically bolting out of her sight. From nearby, she heard a plant on the wall give an encouraging whistle at her. She snapped her head in its direction with a glare, silencing it. Then, it was she who stood.

She gave the boy’s staircase a final thoughtful glance, and let her own weighted footsteps drag her through the Common Room. The ground felt like mud around her ankles as she went, and it was as if a dumbbell had quite suddenly been dropped inside her chest. Silently, the girl climbed the stairs, carrying the weight of not one but two boys in her heavy heart, unaware that she was even doing so.

[fallin-4-ya]

Precautionary Purposes

cedric diggory x reader

summary: you and cedric have been best friends for years; but ever since ginny suggested you dip your toes in the dating world, you find your dates becoming more and more horrible with no explaination.

request: please write a fic about a fem hufflepuff reader who’s best friends with Cedric, they both are in love w each other but can’t work up the courage to confess bc they don’t think it’s mutual and it might ruin their friendship. So maybe Ginny tells her she should start going on dates, so George, Dean and other guys ask her on different dates, and Cedric can’t stand it so he finds ways to sabotage their dates.

warnings: mentions vomit once but besides that none!

You finally sat in the Hufflepuff common room after a long day of classes. Excited to catch up on your favorite book, you took a seat on the yellow velvet couch closest to the fireplace. As soon as you were cozy and began reading, a certain distraction entered the common room. Cedric Diggory. The boy you had basically been head over heels in love with since third year. Cedric was everything you could dream about in a guy; he was tall, devilishly handsome, incredibly kind and loyal. On paper he was nothing short of perfect, but there was an itty-bitty problem. He was your absolute best friend and he had no romantic feelings for you whatsoever. So rather than admitting anything, you saved your friendship the trouble and buried your feelings for him deep, deep down. Although they did have a nasty habit of making their way to the surface every once in a while.

‘Hello, Earth to Y/N.’ Said Cedric and pulled you out of your trance.

‘Oh! Hey, Ced. How’s your day been?’ you questioned into his dreamy eyes.

‘Not bad, the Weasley twins played a great prank in-‘ he started, but you lost him somewhere after the Weasley Twins. You couldn’t help yourself but to get distracted by every sense of his being. This boy was going to be the absolute death of you. You had it bad. Really bad.

The next day you headed over to Ginny at breakfast. You slammed your books onto the Gryffindor table and took a seat beside her. She looked you up and down and smiled.

‘Wow, Y/N. You look terrible.’ Ginny said jokingly, ‘Got a case of the Diggory’s do you?’

‘Very funny, Ginny.’ Sarcasm dripping from your tongue.

‘I just don’t understand what you two are waiting for. I mean, he clearly likes you, and you clearly like him, so I’m not seeing the problem.’ She remarked back.

‘Well,’ you said getting frustrated, ‘what do you suppose I do about it, Gin.’

‘If I were you,’ offered Ginny, ‘I’d probably go on a date or two. You know, distract myself, keep my options open.’

‘Keep my options open…’ you pondered aloud, ‘Thanks, Ginny!’

The day following breakfast was very uneventful. Well, at least before Ginny told her brothers about the conversation you two had at breakfast. The next thing you knew after charms, you had a very attractive younger Weasley Twin approach you in the corridors, asking you to accompany him to Hogsmeade tomorrow. You blushed furiously and nodded your head yes.

(‘Like, um, on a date?’ ‘Yes, Y/N, like a date.’)

When you headed to the common room later that evening you were stopped by a rather stern looking Cedric. ‘Hey, Ced. Are you alright?’ you questioned, raising your brow.

‘Why didn’t you tell me you were going on a date with George Weasley?!’ he said.

‘Oh, um, I don’t know. I just didn’t think it was that important. Plus I just assumed you didn’t want to know and-‘

‘What makes you think I didn’t want to know?’ Cedric asked deadpanned. But before you could think of an answer he brushed off, ‘You know what, never mind. I’m sorry I said anything. You two will have a great time. Good night, Y/N.’ And with that he was off, leaving you stood absolutely bewildered in the Hufflepuff common room, wondering why Cedric was so concerned about a silly little date.

The very next day next day you were sitting across from George Weasley in The Three Broomsticks. You had to admit, the afternoon was going so smoothly. George was a wonderful date: he was sweet, funny and kind; but there was one problem, he wasn’t Cedric. And although as much as you wished the cute ginger in front of you could distract you, it was of no use.

However, a loud crash pulled you out of your thoughts; and before you had any time to react, you and George were covered in sticky butterbeer. Madame Rosmerta apologized profusely, ‘Oh my goodness, it's like I tripped on thin air. I’m sorry, my darlings!’

Suddenly you saw a hand reach out and give you a towel, ‘You alright there, Y//N?’ Cedric said revealing himself, ‘We were sitting over there and watched the whole thing happen. Rotten luck, Weasley.’

‘No problem, Diggory. Me and Y/N were just finishing up anyways.’ He smiled sweetly at you and glared at Cedric, ’Why don’t we head back to the castle and get you cleaned up?’

And with that you and George Weasley headed back up to Hogwarts. After much chatter, you both agreed you had a wonderful time but enjoyed each other’s company better as friends. You definitely weren’t upset at the notion, especially considering the very next day Dean Thomas asked you out. Shocked but slightly satisfied, you agreed to take a walk with him by the black lake. You two were really enjoying your time together; Dean was respectful and genuine, which made your heart slightly a flutter. Not the way Cedric did of course, but enough to distract you from the Diggory’s, as Ginny liked to call it.

 Things were going well, and Dean reached out for your hand. However, as soon as he grabbed a hold of your fingertips, dung bombs erupted from his robes filling your nose with the foulest smell. 

‘I’m so sorry, Y/N!  I have no idea how those got there!’ said Dean, rushing back towards the castle. Leaving you with the second failed date of the week.

‘What’s the matter, Y/N?’ Cedric greeted you at  dinner, ‘Dean Thomas didn’t stand you up did he?’

‘Nope, even worse.’ You chuckled, ‘Dung bombs went off in his robes. You know, I’d forgotten how bloody horrible those smelt.’

 Your eyes met his and both of you bust out into hysterical laughter. With tears of joy, and tummies pain stricken from the laughs; you forgot, just for a moment, how easy it was to get lost in him.

Over the next few weeks, Lee Jordan, Ernie MacMillan and Zacharias Smith had all asked you out, each one ending more disastrous than the next. You became quickly frustrated at the pattern emerging. Someone would as you out, something would go horribly wrong and Cedric (out of all people) would be there to comfort you. It was like the whole world was out to get you, and you have had enough.

You huffed your way in the common room one evening, and plopped your way onto the couch. You felt a soft hand on your shoulder. Cedric, you sighed to yourself as he took the seat next to you.

‘Rough day?’ you nodded at him, ‘Want to talk about it?’

You exhaled softly, ‘I don’t even know anymore, Ced. I just feel like the entire world is against me when it comes to the love department. First George and the butterbeer, then Ernie and the swamp in his four poster, then Lee and the rouge bludger, then Zacharias throwing up! And do I even have to mention Dean?! It’s like everything I’m doing is wrong, Cedric. And I can’t help but to feel like it’s all my fault’ You said in all of your frustration.

‘Y/N, darling. Don’t say that, you deserve the absolute world and you know that. Besides, how could it be your fault the Zacharias ate those acid pops-‘ he stopped mid-sentence, catching himself. Your heart dropped and you turned your head slowly. 

‘Cedric, I didn’t mention anything about acid pops.’ You stated bewildered. Cedric stared at the floor, unable to meet his eyes with yours. 

‘How did you know that acid pops made Zacharias sick?’ you questioned him again, but suddenly the pieces clicked together. ‘Cedric, Madam Rosmerta didn’t trip on her own that day at The Three Broomsticks. And the dung bombs weren’t put in Dean’s robes on accident, were they? Oh my God! Cedric Diggory, have you been the one sabotaging my dates!?’

There was so much going through your mind. Why on Earth would Cedric do such a thing, you questioned to yourself. You looked up at his face searching for answers, looking for anything.

‘I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I just couldn’t even fathom the idea of you being with someone else because-‘ he hesitated, ‘because I love you.’

You stared at him, in shock; because the boy you have been head over heels for has just told you that he loved you. You had absolutely nothing to say, so instead of saying anything at all you crashed your lips onto his. Cedric melted into you, wrapping is hands onto your waist. You pulled away from him.

‘You know, Cedric, If you would have asked me I would have said yes.’ You smiled at him.

‘This was just for precautionary purposes, you know?’ Cedric laughed.

‘Precautionary purposes?’ you giggled back, ‘Of course, of course.’

He then pulled you into a soft kiss, and with that your case of the Diggory’s was cured.

(‘You should probably apologize to those poor boys.’ ‘Yeah I probably should’)

Author’s note: oh my goodness! i had such a wonderful time writting this! i hope you enjoy it! thank you nonnie for the request! <3