#eventual harry x Ginny

[xxlittle0birdxx]

Ginny contemplated the earrings sitting on the seldom-used desk in her bedroom. A simple thank you would have sufficed. The petty part of her had enjoyed hexing Harry's former girlfriend. Some people needed to learn to take no for an answer. She held one up to an ear, and studied her reflection in the mirror. She hated to admit it, but Harry was right. She much preferred them to a stodgy, prosaic bouquet of flowers. Before she could talk herself out of it, she pulled open the desk drawer and withdrew a sheet of parchment, then rummaged for a suitable quill.

[albaskies]

hehe i loved your short hinny fic!! it was soo great!! ❤️❤️❤️ can you please write another hinny fic, maybe hbp and include lots of yearning from harry 🙈🙈 whether that yearning is satisfied is completely up to you!!

thank you so much, anon, that's very kind ❤️ i managed to scramble something up based on your prompt, and had lots of fun doing it. i couldn't make hbp work, so i hope you don't mind i went with early dh instead. i hope you enjoy some angsty yearning courtesy of our very own hj potter!

***

Don’t look at her.

Harry repeats those words to himself like a mantra as he absent-mindedly stacks different kinds of desserts on his plate. The air under the marquee has become thicker now that several guests have stood up to dance, and Harry has started to feel very uncomfortable in Barny Weasley’s sweatier-than-normal body.

He grunts at the dessert selection available on the buffet table, wondering what kind of boring wedding does not serve treacle tart. But then again, he has never been to a wedding before, so what does he know, really.

He walks away in search of somewhere to sit down, carefully trying to shut down his peripheral vision, his gaze dutifully fixed right in front of him. 

Don’t look at her.

Since after the ceremony, he has decided to avoid looking at the dance floor at all costs. He is convinced this is the safest way to keep his mind clear, without being distracted by stupid promises made to stupid best mates, or by the temptation to throttle big-headed Quidditch players - nobody in particular, of course.

He slouches in the first empty chair he finds, his eyes focused on his plate and the assortment of sweets he is never going to eat. He nervously starts drumming with his fingers on the table, while conversation and laughter bubble all around him.

He could take a look at the dancefloor, he reckons, just to check that Ron and Hermione have not started bickering. A quick peek won’t hurt anybody, right?

Do not. Look. At her.

Except that he cannot not look at her. He cannot help but make silly excuses to steal a glance at her every now and then; he cannot help but look for her in the colourful crowd. He cannot help but know exactly where she is under the marquee, even when he is talking to somebody else, when he is eating a bite, or when she is joining Luna in her extravagant dance.

Because Ginny is pure, burning light. He is drawn to her like a flower is drawn to the sun, and he does not know how to contain this dangerous feeling building up in his chest. It’s powerful, urgent, and it makes his heart ache like never before. 

Defeated by his own sorry arse, he looks up and quickly scans the room, trying to convince himself that he is actually checking on Ron and Hermione. He is not fooling anyone, really. 

It only takes him a split second to find her. Because this time she is not talking to somebody else, or eating a bite, or dancing with Luna. This time she is right there in front of him. No, she is actually walking towards him.

Oh bloody hell.

The room seems to blur around her, its noise and chaos fading to a hum as Harry helplessly watches her drawing closer and closer.

He wishes he had the strength to stop her, he really does. But there’s only so much that a man can do when the woman he loves walks towards him surrounded by that golden aura of light, so painfully beautiful, so painfully real.

And just like that, she sits in the empty chair right next to him. She doesn't say anything, yet he understands everything. 

Silence has always been easy with Ginny. It has been easy for longer than he can remember. 

He really should have known, the miserable prat. He should have known that love is a quiet, secret language shared through the simplest of glances. Love is moving together without speaking and understanding each other in a way that no one else ever could. He should have known that clammy hands, fumbling conversations and awkward silences over hot chocolate at Madam Puddifoot’s are an absolute pile of nothing compared to this.

And yet - he couldn’t have known, could he, that he would have found love in a hard, blazing gaze, in the sweet sound of laughter lingering in the air, in little elbows and butter dishes, in a gloriously setting sun. Maybe the realisation would not have struck him so hard, if he had. And maybe, with Ginny, he cannot have it in any other way.

He does not know for how long they remain sitting like that, a foot from each other, without uttering a single word. Their bodies are not remotely touching, and yet he feels engulfed by her, by her flowery scent, by her blazing and unwavering light. Their bodies are not even touching, and yet he feels her warmth everywhere on his body, under his skin, brushing his soul.

The other guests might think he looks like a miserable sod, stiffly glued to his chair just to be around her, just to drink her in for one more minute.

Or maybe they just think he is the weird cousin who creeps on younger girls at family functions. Whatever. He is not even sure he cares.

After all, she has not left yet. She is, too, sitting there on the edge of her chair, incapable of walking away. She stays, and that’s all that matters to him.

A sudden glint of yellow, and Harry notices Luna waving at Ginny from the crowd, calling her to the dance floor. 

They both sigh. The spell of silent and blissful oblivion around them is broken once again.

‘I think I’m going to join Luna,’ Ginny says quietly. 

He is so grateful, like a pathetic, smitten idiot, to hear her voice again. Even if what she says rips a hole through his heart.

When she finally does get up from her chair, it looks like she is wearing a weighted vest around her shoulders. He feels something breaking inside of him.

‘Oh.’ He chokes, clears his throat. ‘Yeah. Have fun.’

Her beautiful, sad eyes linger on him for a moment too long before she gives him a curt nod, and slowly walks away.

What a stupid thing to say, he tells himself. What a stupid, idiotic thing to say, when all he should have done instead was ask her, please stay. Please don’t go, please don’t leave me. I can’t bear to be away from you, I just can’t let you go. I’m sorry. I love you. Do you hear me? I love you. I am so sorry.

A miserable man, he is. A miserable, miserable man who is about to go on a suicide mission but has to push away the only person who makes him feel truly invincible. 

Would it be so bad to dive into the crowd, grab her hand, hold her close to his chest, and drown in that blissful oblivion again? Would it be so bad to kiss her soft, burning red lips, horrifying all the guests and the Weasleys together, hearing someone try and remedy the scandal by explaining that Oh but he’s not really a cousin, you know, more of a distant relative.

Maybe he really should go in there, ask her to run away with him and be just the two of them forever, forget about Dumbledore’s instructions, sod all this Chosen One nonsense. Choose his own happiness, just this once.

But then a silver lynx brings the news that the Ministry’s fallen and chaos unravels. He later ends up wondering to himself if those stupid, idiotic words will be the last ones he will ever say to her.

[libraryofhogwarts]

A Deal Made on Impulse

Ginny Weasley x Pansy Parkinson

Pansy has something she needs to talk to Ginny about, and so it begins.

Chapter 3: Oh the Dread of It All

Series masterlist

Monday morning was a dread. The moment Ginny opened her eyes she was met with a flood of anxiety. She lay in stillness for a few moments until the lingering nausea from the night before had passed.

Hermione was already up and dressed, getting ready to walk out the door when she noticed that Ginny was awake. She paused at the door, hand on the doorknob, “Everything will be fine today Gins,” she slipped out of the door a second later.

Ginny covered her eyes and groaned.

She got up, quickly dressing in her uniform and sliding her Mary Jane heels on. She fumbled with her tie three times before finally getting the knot correct. It was loose but it would have to do for today because there was no way she would get it any tighter with her shaky fingers.

She grabbed her stack of books, corresponding with the three classes she had today, and headed out of her dorm.

Her first class of the day was Defence Against the Dark Arts. Usually, she would dread this class, the professor bore her to tears, but today she was dreading the end of class.

Why? Because, luckily, this was one of the classes she did not have with Pansy Parkinson. Unfortunately, the next class, Charms, was where her luck ran out.

The DADA professor, much to Ginny’s dismay, released the class for the day, meaning Ginny was now sluggishly making her way down the hall to Charms. She wished Merlin would bless her with the stomach flu or something to that degree at this moment. Anything to get out of having to go to class.

She reached the massive carved door of her class. Heaving a sigh, she pulled the handle and made her way inside, hesitant to meet her fate.

She immediately found Pansy, in her usual seat three rows back from Ginny’s. The woman was distracted, talking with friends. Ginny took the opportunity to hurriedly make her way to her seat and slouch into her chair.

The professor entered the room beginning the lecture. He droned on about making a teacup dance around the desk for over an hour. Ginny tried to listen, she really did, but she could feel laser eyes drilling into the back of her head.

She was too scared to turn around and see what was causing her these feelings for fear of finding Pansy Parkinson staring back at her.

The professor wrapped up class shortly after 1:00 pm. It was lunch and then Ginny had her last class later in the day. She rose from her seat intending to skip lunch and make a mad dash for her dorm.

She was so stressed out, maybe sketching or painting could help. Yes; that is what she’d do. She’d go to her dorm and take her stress out on a canvas. Maybe she would even skip her last class and just have Hermione bring her dinner. The prospect of spending the rest of the night tucked away in the corner of her room with the easel sounded all too enticing.

She quickly gathered her things from her desk, not bothering to tuck away her notes or pens, just piling them on top of her books and fast walking to the door.

As soon as she crossed the threshold into the hall she heard it. Her name was being called from the room she’d just left. She paused, recognizing the voice right away. She’d been playing that voice on repeat all night long What can I do for you Weasley and Okay. It was Pansy’s husky voice.

Ginny was tempted to run but she remembered that Pansy had done her a favor yesterday, so instead she paused, slowly turning on her heel to face the woman.

Now, so close behind her, Pansy stood. Just slightly taller than the redhead she looked down into Ginny’s eyes, a glint of humor in her own.

Ginny’s palms began to sweat.

“What can I do for you Parkinson?” Ginny threw her words from yesterday back at her.

“Can we talk?” Her eyes gleaned around the corridor noting the other students shuffling around, some of them noting the unusual fact that the pair was talking, “Somewhere private?”

Ginny’s heart stopped in her chest. What could Pansy want to talk about? Was she not also stewing on what happened yesterday? Shouldn’t they both just pretend the kiss never happened and go back to how things were before yesterday afternoon?

“Sure,” Ginny reluctantly squeaked out, “Where?”

“Your dorm?” Pansy surprised Ginny by suggesting.

Ginny just nodded, turning around and heading down the hall, hoping the girl was following. Or maybe she hoped she’d lose Pansy in the chaos of the lunch rush; students flying through the hallways heading towards the dining hall.

Unfortunately, much to Ginny’s dismay, the woman kept stride with her.

They made it to the portrait door in record time for Ginny. Usually, she was legerly with her walk back to the dorm, stopping to talk to her peers or getting distracted by one of the castle’s ghosts and their antics.

She muttered the password to the stubborn old librarian in the painting. The door swung open revealing a dark tunnel leading into the cozy octagonal-shaped common room lined with red rugs and tapestries depicting scenes of knights in shining armor and spindling forests.

The fire from this morning was still roaring, warming the room to an almost uncomfortable temperature. The heat only added to Ginny’s nerves. She still didn’t look back to see if Pansy was behind her, she could hear the click of her shoes in the empty common room.

They made their way to the stone staircase. Ginny paused her foot on the first step. Once she went up these stairs there was no turning back. She would truly be isolated with Pansy Parkinson, the woman she’d kissed yesterday; the only woman she’d kissed.

Despite her nerves she continued on, something in her gut telling her to go onward, to hear Pansy out.

They were met with yet another door, this one Ginny unlocked using wandless magic. The pair stepped inside her and Hermione’s shared room.

The redhead stood uncomfortably in the middle of the room, watching as the brunette wandered about looking over Ginny’s shelves of paints, music, and nicknacks. Then she moved to Hermione’s selves, pulling off a book to read the back cover.

Ginny cleared her throat after a minute, “So… what was it you wanted to talk about?”

Pansy put the book down, spinning around to look at Ginny. She walked over to Ginny’s bed plopping down on her back to look at the ceiling.

Pansy blew out a breath, almost a sigh, “I think we should date.”

Ginny choked on the air. What did she mean date? She said that so casually as if it was normal for Pansy fucking Parkinson of all people to suggest that she date Ginny Weasley.

“I… I’m sorry, what?” Ginny gasped out.

“Sorry,” the woman sat up from her position on the bed, facing Ginny once more. “I think we should fake date.”

Pansy said it in a tone that suggested that the insertion of the word ‘fake’ cleared up all confusion. It did not. At least not for Ginny. She was at a complete loss for words.

Pansy looked at her shocked state for a few moments before standing to lightly grab the redhead’s hand. She gently pulled her to the bed and sat her down on the edge. Ginny complied, too lost in confusion to do anything else.

Pansy pulled out the desk chair flipping it backwards to straddle it facing Ginny. Her necktie was loose as if she’d pulled at it in frustration. Her button-down shirt was untucked from her skirt and her knee-high stockings were beginning to slip down her calves.

Ginny couldn’t look at the woman for too long or her thoughts would get her into trouble. Trouble like agreeing to Pansy’s plan before even hearing it.

“What do you mean fake date?” Ginny emphasized the last words as if to remind herself what they were talking about.

“I mean exactly what it sounds like. We pretend to date.”

“But… why? Why would we pretend to date?” Ginny’s confusion is palpable, like a breathing being dancing around in the air.

“Because you have an ex-boyfriend who won’t leave you alone. If we pretend like we’re in a relationship he’ll back off, I’ll make sure of it.” She supplies.

Pansy had noticed Dean’s actions over the last couple of months? Had anyone else noticed? Her brothers certainly hadn’t. Dean was probably lucky that they hadn’t; too caught up in their own romantic drama to notice their little sister’s leach of an ex.

“You noticed Dean?”

“Of course I noticed. He was outside most of your classes harassing you for the last two months. He almost makes it impossible not to notice.” Pansy surprised Ginny by saying.

She didn’t think anyone had been paying that much attention to her, let alone her issues with Dean. Hermione and Draco were the only ones who knew, and that was only because Hermione was her best friend and Draco was her best friend’s boyfriend.

Merlin, it was embarrassing that she had noticed. Dean was embarrassing. Ginny could not believe she dated him.

“What about you? What would you get out of us fake dating?” Ginny asked still confused about the woman’s motivations and trying to change the subject.

“Well I get to tell Dean to shove off whenever I want,” she laughed, “and I get to prove to my parents that I am actually gay, despite their doubts.” Gone was the laughter. Now grave seriousness replaced it.

“What do you mean?” Ginny whispered.

Pansy seemed to be hesitant to explain but continued nonetheless, “My parents think me being gay is a phase. It’s obviously not but no amount of words seems to be convincing enough for them.” She sighs and Ginny doesn’t think she’s heard a sadder sigh in her life.

“Maybe dating a girl will prove it to them.” Pansy finishes.

Suddenly Ginny wants nothing more than to leap from the bed and wrap the girl in the tightness of a hug. She doesn’t think Pansy gets enough of those.

Ginny stays where she is, however; she doesn’t even know the brunette that well, she doesn’t need to scare her off by pulling her into a bear hug only a Weasley can truly give. Especially not when this plan is starting to sound enticing.

No, no definitely not. Those thoughts will lead nowhere good. Ginny could not start down that road.

“How would we even convince them that we are dating? They’d never see us.” It didn’t make sense to Ginny. How were they supposed to convince her parents that they were together if they were away at Hogwarts the entire time?

“They are having a New Year’s Eve gala.” she rolls her eyes at the word gala, “You come to it and they can see that this whole gay thing is one hundred percent not going away. Then, we date for a couple more months and the good old-fashioned rumor mill will get the information on us back to them. Hopefully, with any luck, they will be convinced.” She sucks in a breath.

Ginny gnaws on her bottom lip, weighing the pros and cons of this crazy plan. It might help get Dean off her back and it would help get Pansy’s parents off of hers. It’s crazy, that’s for sure, no doubt about it, but… it just might work.

“How long would we fake date?” she needs to know every detail before she agrees to this. Matter of fact they should probably come up with some rules as well, so as to not blur any lines. Not that Ginny thinks she’ll have a hard time not blurring lines, definitely not.

“How about we revisit that question in a couple of months? See where we are sitting with our individual problems and adjust the timeline from there.” Pansy has this whole thing figured out Ginny thinks.

Ginny stares hard and Pansy. Debating back and forth. Should she, should she not? After a few moments of intense staring from both girls, Pansy never breaking eye contact with her. Ginny answers the original suggestion, “Okay. I’ll do it. But I have some rules.”

Merlin was Ginny easy to convince, how embarrassing. She just hoped this didn’t go wrong.

“Yes ma’am. Hit me,” Pansy gives her a salute, some of the playfulness returning to her eyes.

Ginny rolls her eyes, “No kissing. At least not all the time.” Ginny starts.

Pansy doesn’t say anything quite yet, just has a questioning look in her eye.

“I want to save those things for real moments in my life. I know it sounds stupid it’s just-” Ginny is cut off by Pansy’s reply,

“It’s not stupid. I get it, no kissing unless necessary. What about touching? No one is going to believe we’re dating if we don’t kiss let alone touch.”

Pansy makes a good point. Ginny ponders the question, deciding what she’s okay with and what she’s not.

“How about this, we can touch, and give chaste kisses, on the cheek and such. Sound reasonable?” Ginny questions if these parameters are good.

“Okay, I can work with that.” Pansy nods, “Any other rules?”

Ginny pauses. She hadn’t thought that far, only that she didn’t want to blur the lines with too much kissing.

“Uhm, I don’t think so,” Ginny tells her.

“Great,” she slaps her hands on the back of the chair, standing up, going to make her way for the door.

“Wait!” Ginny rushed to stand.

Pansy turns back raising her eyebrows waiting for an explanation.

Ginny walks up to her, coming next to the door, “Who should we tell about this… arrangement?”

“Probably no one, if we want it to be convincing,” Pansy says.

“But Hermione,” Ginny trails off.

“Aah, the golden girl,”

“She’s my best friend. She’s going to know if I’m lying.” Ginny tells her.

“Tell whoever you want Weasley, just try to keep it under wraps, alright? It would be terribly humiliating if someone found out about this.” Pansy looks down at Ginny, a teasing glint in her eye.

“Okay,” Ginny whispers, feeling like the air has suddenly been sucked out of the room.

The girls look at each other, momentary heat sizzling between them.

“I’ll see you later… girlfriend,” Pansy whispers, breaking whatever moment they had between them a second ago.

She’s gone before Ginny can muster any sort of response, the door already closed.

“Bye,” Ginny whispers to the emptiness of her room.

[nidamae-approvedhpfanfics]

This, Too, Is Sacred

An ancient power has required generations of purebloods to pledge their lives to the blood pact. Draco has long known he was born to uphold this tradition; but Hermione's parents have secrets, hidden details about her heritage… and soon it will be her turn to cast in with fate. Dramione AU

Also at

My summary: (I've read it 3 times now- it's that good)

2 yrs post Battle of Hogwarts Hermione's parents are finally getting their memories restored. Once mostly settled her father tells her she's actually pureblood and she Must speak with Molly about the Sacred 28 and what that now means for her as one of them.

This is the one aspect of being a member of the Sacred 28 the Weasleys have not and could not walk away from as it is vital for the survival of all magicals.

More than her immediate duty Hermione finds the loss of families from the Sacred numbers -there were originally 40- mean that her participation may soon be irrelevant. There is work to be done.

Language: English Words: 86,041 Chapters: 23/23 Collections: 33 Comments: 1,905 Kudos: 9,544 Bookmarks: 3,254 Hits: 276,042

Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger, Mr Granger (Harry Potter), Mrs Granger (Harry Potter), Molly Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Narcissa Black Malfoy, Muriel (Harry Potter), Theodore Nott, Blood Magic, Sex Magic, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Forced Marriage, Traditions, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Pureblood Hermione Granger, do not copy to another site

[dream-with-a-fever]

What is your favourite hinny fict of all time?

ooh this is a great question!!! several come to mind, because there are some really incredible writers out there who i think capture harry and ginny perfectly in their writing. and i can’t pick one so here goes:

Orchards by @whinlatter

this oneshot is incredible, building up hinny’s relationship over the summer that we see so little of in the books. it’s just so in character, funny and beautiful. you really see their easy dynamic and how perfect they are for each other. i’ve reread it several times and i will do it again it’s THAT good. also her other work Beasts about post-dh ginny and everything that follows the war with lots of flashbacks and added details. it’s really honest and gritty portrayal of grief & recovering from the trauma of a war

The Path From You by @takeariskao3

i am obsessed with this fic. it’s wonderful bc it has all the canon elements but it’s set a few years after the war, and the main plot is completely fresh and new. it’s like a harry x ginny second chance romance, harry is super protective and they’re both like still so in love with each other it’s ughhh *chefs kiss*! it’s so well-written too. i LOVE it.

quick-fire and warm front by @jiilys

these are two oneshots that i think perfectly capture hinny’s relationship after the war. the writing is just beautiful.

Come Stay for The Summer by @ashotofogdensoldfirewhiskey

this is such a fun and hilarious text-fic. i’m such a fan of hinny in a different universe, like regular high school / soccer fics. just another fun exploration of their relationship. also basically any of the oneshots by this author are so good.

Bewitched by @starlingflight (apologies for tagging the wrong author!!!)

i loved this fic so much. such an orignal concept — it’s mainly a non-magical storyline but with a twist. loved the characterisations and the non-linear format. so cute and fun and the ending is perfect.! also this author has lots of other wonderful works.

FloreatCastellum on ao3 is also wonderful - their missing moments works are so on point.

i also might take this opportunity to self-rec my fic too (lmao sorry) which is-

but i’m a fire, and i’ll keep your brittle heart warm by me hehe

it’s a fic about the beginning and blossoming friendship of harry & ginny during order of the phoenix. basically missing moments and build up to explore how and why these two eventually end up together !

but i am always looking for more fics to read so pls give me recs!!<3

[fairyofspringdays]

The Weasley Family Spouses - Which Weasley is the hottest?

(bill x fleur, percy x oliver, fred x angelina, george x lee, ron x hermione, ginny x harry)

the six weasley spouses were asked to rate all the weasley siblings from most attractive to least. here are the responses:

Fleur

#1 bill - hubby!!! so respectful and sweet and loving, but also so fiery! that hair really gets her going... she had thought his scars were hot even before greyback happened, and he is no less attractive now!

#2 percy - a gentleman, treats her with respect. learnt french to properly communicate with her! he said he'd always wanted to learn another language and when he heard bill was marrying a french girl, it was the perfect opportunity to learn. what a shame that he's gay.

#3 charlie - also respectful. asks interesting questions and always willing to talk. not bad-looking.

#4 fred and george - also respectful. too caught up in themselves to really give her time.

#5 ron and ginny - no.

Oliver

#1 percy - he is the BEST. he is intelligent i mean sure he is academically smart but he's also just intrinsically smart and really thoughtful and caring and sweet and— (cut off before he could go into a full blown rant)

#2 charlie - attractive, great at quidditch. he had a crush on charlie when he was young.

#3 bill and ginny - also attractive and great at quidditch. they overwhelm him a bit.

#4 ron - he doesn't know the kid very well but he must be cool since harry likes him, right?

#5 fred and george - ANNOYING. (he is biased because the twins don't treat percy well)

Angelina

#1 fred - well, obviously. but tell him she put george on top just to fuck with him.

#2 ginny - she's not gay, but...

#3 george - physically attractive, too similar but also too different from fred for her to give him a proper number. either way, he is gay, so.

#4 bill - very cool, nice long hair. she wants to convince fred to grow out his hair too.

#5 ron, percy, and charlie - all physically attractive in their own ways. she doesn't know them well enough to comment further.

Lee

#1 george - very very cute. nice fluffy red hair and pretty hazel eyes. just... very cute.

#2 bill - cool as hell.

#3 charlie and ginny - also cool as hell, just a bit less.

#4 percy - he needs to loosen up a bit. he might know just the thing to get percy to do that, but he's not single.

#5 ron - a bit cool actually, but he's always preferred his men more muscly than tall.

#6 fred - a gremlin.

Hermione

(the only contestant who protested at first, but was eventually persuaded)

#1 ron - very thoughtful and caring, he's brave and loyal and so wonderfully smart and cute! and he can cook!!!

#2 ginny - again, she's not gay, but...

#3 everyone else - more like brothers to her than anything. she does appreciate percy's smarts and the twins' charms, but they're just not ron.

Harry

#1 ginny - she's cool, she's hot, she's wonderfully fiery and he could spend all day mooning after her.

#2 ron - ron's his best mate so he has a moral obligation to put him high on the least. (but he IS very sweet and caring and, well, if hermione broke up with him...)

#3 bill - he isn't gay, but...

#4 fred and george - very fun to be around.

#5 percy - he's a nerd but also there's something endearing about him.

#6 charlie - physically very attractive. refused to comment further.

[cassiopeia-longbottom98]

Nott's Big Question

Relationship: Theodore Nott x Reader

Summary: Theo takes you to dinner. It's just a normal dinner at Blaise's, right?

Warning: Use of Y/N

_______________________________________

"Theo, thank you so much for dinner. You know how much I love Blaise's lasagna." I said happily. I tilt my head to the side and smile.

Theo stares back at me in awe. He admires us from across the table. "My goddess, you are absolutely stunning tonight. You always are, but tonight even the stars are envy your beauty."

I blush at the compliment. Theo has always been very good with his words, but they always seemed to leave me flustered.

"T-thanks Theo.", I say blushing, "You look dashing as ever. Blaise should offer you as dessert." I wink at him.

Theo grins, "Only for you, my darling."

You both talk about your day. Theo rants about how Draco keeps coming in late and how he has to pick up Draco's slack.

Ever since Draco and Hermione had gotten back from their honeymoon 3 months ago, Draco has been coming in late. I have my theory that she's pregnant. She wasn't looking too well after she had to use the floo when we had dinner last week. Theo thinks they are just shagging all the time.

"Hey Y/n!" Ginny calls. I look up to see Mr. and Mrs. Potter. Ginny and Harry have been married for a few years now. Their wedding was on the cover of the Daily Prophet for at least two weeks.

I smile and greet them. "Are you guys here on date night as well?" Theo asked. Harry nodded.

"Yeah. Ginny has been talking about wanting to come back here, since Y/n's birthday dinner." Ginny elbows Harry in the side. Harry grunts and glares at his wife.

"Anyways, I see you guys are here on date night." Ginny smiles and gives Theo a weird look.

'I wonder what that was about.' I think to myself but eventually brush it off.

Harry and Ginny go and sit at their table and we continue with our date.

Theo and I continue to eat your food in comfortable silence. It was never uncomfortable between you guys. He looks up at me and smiles.

When I first met Theo back in second year, he never smiled. I remember the first time I saw it.

It was fourth year and everyone was coming back at the Yule Ball. Draco seemed to be in a mood. Pansy stormed off to the dorm room, and everyone else was starting to get tired. Blaise wanted to lighten the mood and to make his best friend smile, so he asked Blaise to dance. Both being purebloods, they obviously knew to dance properly. The two of them started doing the tango. I watch from afar. Being a muggleborn sorted into Slytherin was rare and that meant I was an easy target.

I laughed at the boys being silly. I turned to see Draco smirking. I looked back at the dancing duo and was taken back. Theo had the most beautiful smile and his laugh could cure all things evil. The Slytherin common room never felt warmer.

"Well, hello lovers. I took time out of my very busy schedule to bring you this exclusive dessert." Blaise greeted. I giggle at his antics. Blaise has always been dramatic. Blaise shows us his very new cheesecake, carrot cake cheesecake. Theo grunts, trying to convince Blaise to leave.

Blaise chuckles and looks down at me, "You know Y/n, if you ever get tired of him, my bed is always available." I chuckle at him as he walks away. Theo mutters about how he is going to kill him.

"Theodore darling, we both know you won't kill him. Who else would you dance with?" He glares at me as he tries a bit out of the cheesecake.

I take a bite and moan. Theo looks up at me hungrily.

"Y/n, would you care for a stroll after dinner?" Theo asks. "I am going to have to work off this cheesecake to keep this sexy body." He grins at my laugh.

"I would love it. Got to keep that figure or else I may have to take up Blaise's offer." I wink at him.

He glares at me as he finishes and goes to pay.

As we walk down Diagon Alley, I lean into him to try and warm myself. "Cold, my love?" Theo asks softly.

I nod. I feel as the warming charms that Theo placed work its magic. Theo has always been a sweetheart. He doesn't act like it around others, but he's such a softie with me. As we walk, I feel Theo pull my closer and wrap his arm around my shoulders. I lean into smelling smoke, wine, and cinnamon. His scent comforts me.

Abruptly we stop, and I look up at Theo. I see him grinning, his cheeks dusted with red.

"Remember this spot?" He asks cheekily. I look up and see we are outside of Fortescue's Ice cream Parlor.

I blush. "Oh Merlin. How could I forget?" It's the day I embarrassed myself in front of you."

"By embarrassed, you mean ruin one of my favorite shirts." I smack his arm. "You know it was an accident." He chuckles. Theo grabs my hands and smiles at me.

"You know that is one of my favorite memories of you. I don't understand how I never noticed you before then. I love your dark green eyes and sandy brown hair. You make my life so much better. I never knew happiness or love until I met you. You know how my father was. I would go through again every time if that meant I would get to be with you. Y/n Smith, I will love you until the day my magic gives out. I will love you until Draco and Blaise stop getting annoying.", Theo says as he gets down on one knee with a ring in his hand, "Will you please do me the honor of marrying me and making me the happiest man in this galaxy?"

I stand there stunned. I never imagine Theo would be on one knee in front of me. I stare at him until I could see the nerves starting to hit. I squeal and wrap myself around him. "Yes, Yes, Yes!!!" I yell. I hear Theo curse under his breath.

"Salazar woman, you about gave me a heart attack. I thought you were going to say no." Theo chuckled.

I look at him and place my hand on his cheek.

"Merlin Theo, I never thought you would have proposed to me. I would always say yes to you. I love you so much."

I pull Theo closer and kiss him softly. Theo leans in and deepens the kiss.

We finally pull away as we heard people around us start whispering. I stand up and pull Theo up.

We apparate back to our house. As we snuggle on our couch, I look at my ring. "How does Y/n Nott sound?" I look at Theo smiling big.

"It sounds perfect love." Theo whispers and he leans down to kiss me.

[lemonagrios]

I've been thinking of an Au like this for a couple of months, so I made some shitty drawings to get some of it out of my system, lol

Me yapping about this Au ⬇️

So when I say "Logan" or "Runaways" Au I don't mean like literally swapping the characters and putting NextGen characters in the existing story, it's more like the general idea of the movie/comics with some plotpoints but not the exact same(?) I hope what I said makes sense lmao 😭

In this Au mutants are still relatively unknown and hidden from the population, but the Malfoys, who are very known and loved for their contributions to medicine and all of the other businesses they own, have known about mutants for a very long time now, and they actually are part of a big anti-mutant organization where they test possible "cures" and weapons for when mutants decide to "rebel" against humanity, even more now that some mutant called Harry Potter has been making some noise they have already tried and failed to silence.

17 year old Scorpius Malfoy, oblivious to all this tries to be the perfect son for his father while also grieving the (suspicious) death of his mother, he's been feeling weird lately, and he also has a big interest in genetics, not only because he knows he'd have to work in Transigen when he grows up like the rest of his family, but because of some weird sightings of interesting people in the past year.

Some stuff happens, and he discovers the truth about his family's business, the inhuman experiments tried on mutant kids, and a deadly weapon called X-19 that they created and actually have been using for a couple of years to kill important people like politicians and mafia lords while earning enormous amounts of money with it.

This "weapon" is actually a teen around the same age as Scorpius, and somehow he ends up running away with him, albeit kinda not on purpose, on top of all that he also very recently discovered that he himself is a mutant, so things are not looking good.

Some more things I've thought about 🥸

Albus and Scorpius are both 17, and their bond is definitely going to turn romantic at some point in the future bc I love them, they're boyfriends in every universe, I don't make the rules.

Albus name is X-19 as a reference to the epilogue begging with "19 years later" lmao.

Also, since his name was X-19, someone in Transigen who was part of the crew in charge of him and felt bad for him started calling him "Severus" in an attempt to give him a real name, I won't give too much details about this but that's the reason Scorpius says "Severus" in my fanart, "Albus" is a name he'd get later.

Albus was created in a lab, BUT I want him to have both Harry and Ginnys genes, I want Ginny to be the one who has the same mutation as him, so since this is kinda a gender reversal, she has claws like Laura's while Albus has Logan's, and we all know Albus looks a lot like Harry, so I like the idea that he was made specifically to resemble him, just to fuck with their heads when a teen that looks just like Harry and has Ginnys mutation is used against them.

As for Scorpius powers, I mostly made them up lol, it's a pretty basic teleportation with the fact that his skin becomes white the more he uses his powers bc I really wanted him to develop a physical mutation that would eventually (propably) out him as a mutant, also he can only teleport to places he has already been to before, if he hasn't been to a place he cannot go there, but since he's so new to his powers he can't control where he's going yet lol.

I think that's it 🤓 I still have nothing set since this is just for silly fun and I could change my mind at anytime, tbh I doubt anyone would read all that, but I had to let it out, I do want to write a fic someday, but if I draw slow, I write even slower 😭 I hope my English didn't fail me cause lately I haven't been Englishing very well lmao, byeee.

[emeritusemeritus]

No Good Deeds [George Weasley x Reader]

Part 5

Part 1 2 3 4 5

Pairing: {George Weasley x Reader} mentions of previous Fred Weasley x Reader.

Timeline: Set a few years after DH, loosely following Canon.

Summary: A few years after Fred’s death, the investors of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes demand changes to the name. All it would take is two years of a fake marriage to fix the issues, but no good deed goes unpunished.

Warnings: Fake marriage trope because we love the cliché. Mentions of death (Fred). Friends to lovers. Slow burn but mentions of kissing and eventual smut. Swearing. George calls us Angel. Drinking. SMUT. The smut has arrived! P in V, oral (both). Angst, sadness, grief. Tags will be updated with each chapter. Not Beta-read or spell checked.

Honeymoon time 💕

Your wedding to George was a jubilant celebration with your family and friends, a chance to bask in the love you were so thankful to receive from everyone around you. You'd honoured Fred in many ways that day, including photos of him, an empty chair with his name on and many other little ways to make it seem like he was there. You'd noticed George had worn his chain under his suit shirt and the sight of it made butterflies flutter inside you.

It was a small and quaint wedding that had admittedly been rushed in planning, only two weeks after you'd announced your engagement, but it was perfect. No one had doubted your intentions and the day had gone completely to plan, except for the regular hiccups that seem to occur when a group of people are brought together. Muriel had been characteristically foul as usual and had clashed with your great aunt Ariadne though she'd avoided the more triggering topics which was one consolation.

You danced with your friends and your now blended family late into the night, with George eventually stealing you back from dancing with Bill for one final dance.

"Have you had a good day Mrs Weasley?" He asks, holding you close as you sway with surprising grace even with the healthy amount of alcohol you'd both consumed.

"The best, Mr Weasley," you beam up at him, his handsomeness once again hitting you as you look upon his smiling face.

"Couldn't have asked for better. I don't think you've ever looked more beautiful."

The night you'd spent together had not been repeated since, nor had you really spoken about it. There was a lingering tension between you, growing increasingly stronger throughout the day as you thought of your wedding night and honeymoon, the anticipation almost consuming you.

Ginny and Fleur had whisked you away from George not long after your final dance to get you ready to leave for your honeymoon, which you'd be departing for very soon. It was tradition in the Weasley family to immediately begin your honeymoon the night of the wedding and you had readily accepted the chance to exit out of the wedding a little earlier into the night, giving you and George some time alone.

You'd chosen to honeymoon in the U.K. to keep costs down, after all this whole situation was based upon George reclaiming the shop as sole owner and any unnecessary spending would only increase the amount of time you'd be married. Bill and Fleur had graciously offered for you to stay in Shell Cottage with them but George had instead chosen to surprise you with your destination. He'd tactfully evaded every single one of your questions, relishing in his power of knowledge but had thankfully given you a few clues as to what you should pack. Clothes for all weather, from hot to bitter cold, a couple of 'nice' outfits and a bathing suit. So, nothing to really go off.

Percy had arranged a ministry car for you to borrow for the week, his gift for you both and you'd decided to travel like muggles for the week, taking your time and only using magic when necessary. George was driving to your destination, the luggage and travel necessities having been packed up earlier that day by the Weasley boys and Harry.

The crowd cheered as you both walked towards the car that was waiting for you, your family and friends gathered around with jubilant faces as you walked hand in hand towards the car. You both paused to thank and embrace Mr and Mrs Weasley before climbing into the car, George opening the door for you before getting in on his side. You waved at the gathering of people in front of you as George pulled away and as you pulled away from the Burrow, you peered through the back window, squirming around the freshly painted 'just married' sign to see your loved ones fading further away as they carried on the party.

"Are you okay?" George asks gently as he drives out of Ottery St Catchpole, the rolling Devonshire fields passing you by as the sun begins to set.

"I'm... incredible, I don't think there are words for how I'm feeling," you say with a wide smile, giggling a little at your inability to get your words out. He chuckles and reaches for your hand, pulling it onto the gear stick to join his.

"I know what you mean, I feel like I'm floating," he says, flashing you a smile before turning his attention back to the road. You take the opportunity of his attention being elsewhere to really look at him,  the plains of his face looking unbelievably handsome to you. He looked stunning in his suit, the colour and cut of the material only serving as a compliment to his gorgeous red hair and sharp features.

"Checking me out Mrs Weasley?" He says with a smirk, eyes still fixed on the road. You fight to hide the creeping blush that appears on your cheeks, realising that he'd caught you staring. You bite your lip and turn away, choosing to look out of the window at the rolling hills instead. "You can you know, I'm yours now."

You turn to look at him and the smile he has plastered on his face fills you with warmth and nervous excitement.

"You look so handsome, I feel like I can't take my eyes off you," you admit, a little bashfully.

He gives a deep chuckle and squeezes your hand that is still held by his own.

"You have no idea how hard it is to drive right now, all I want to do is stare at you," he admits, though he sounds completely unashamed of his words. You blush and look away again, this time out of pure bliss, wanting to remember everything about this moment.

"Get some sleep Angel, it's quite a drive," he says softly a few minutes later, turning down the radio that was playing music in the background.

"I'm okay," you lightly protest, despite feeling relaxed by the drive. "I wish I'd taken this dress off though, not the best travelling outfit."

"And take that joy away from me? How dare you," he jokes, sounding a little outraged. Your stomach instantly fills with nerves and butterflies at his words; he intended to take your dress off.

You fell asleep a short while later, just as the last slither of sunlight had disappeared into the horizon, the long stretch of road ahead now only lit by car lights and the faint cats eyes on the ground. The mixture of the low humming from the radio, the gentle rocking of the car and the presence of George was enough to lull you into a much needed sleep as you cuddled into a pillow you'd thought to pack, wishing that you were wearing something much less restrictive but that couldn't be helped.

When you woke again, it was still pitch black and George was still driving, the car lights ahead of you the only clue to where you were.

"Hi Angel," George says, noticing you staring as he briefly looks over at you with a smile.

"Mmm, hi Georgie," you mumble back, still fighting off the last embers of sleep. "Where are we?"

"Nice try," he says, not falling at the last hurdle and you give a little huff, hoping that one would have worked. "About an hour away."

"Is there time to stop for a coffee somewhere?" You ask, sitting straighten in your seat as you abandon the pillow into your lap.

"I don't know anywhere that would be open," he says, flicking his eyes to the dashboard clock, prompting you to do so and realising that it was now past midnight, much to your surprise.

"McDonald's will be," you say with a little shrug, trying to see any hints from signposts as to where you were of where the next services would be.

"McDonald's?" He asks, completely oblivious and you can't help but laugh, never having thought about how the notion of 24 hour fast food had not yet entered the wizarding world, making George completely oblivious.

"It's a 24 hour restaurant, usually around road services, it's fast food," you explain. He immediately gets it and let's out a little 'ahhh' of understanding, telling you that there was a services coming up and you could check if there was one there. There was.

Introducing George Weasley to drive-through ordering was nothing short of hilarious and you'd briefly lamented the fact that his first McDonald's experience wouldn't be inside an actual McDonald's building but you were not about to enter a fast food joint at a service station in a wedding dress. You'd both ordered a coffee, yourself a medium coke and then you had excitedly introduced him to not only a Big Mac but also chicken nuggets, both of which were a complete revelation to him and you had to hold back serious giggles at his reactions. Half an hour later and you were on your way, coffees in hand and belly's a little fuller as you prepared for the last part of your journey.

"Are you sure you don't want me to take over? I don't mind driving to give you a break," you offered as you watch him put on his seatbelt.

"You don't know where we're going," he says with a devilish smirk but you feign innocence.

"Then just tell me and I'll get us there," you say innocently, batting your eyelashes at him.

"Nice try baby," he says with an even more sinister smirk, his eyes roaming your face briefly before he turns on the car and begins to pull away after one last sip of coffee.

You were transfixed as George turned right up a long winding path entirely shielded by trees, the long road leading you deeper under the canopy of trees until you were completely surrounded by woodland. You could make out a small, warm light at the end of the long road and became transfixed on the approaching light, trying to focus your eyes hard on that point, trying to make sense of it. The car swerved a little to avoid a large twig in the road which brought your destination into clear view.

You gasped at the beauty of the scene in front of you, looking excitedly at George who looked more than pleased at your reaction.

"George," you say breathlessly as he parks up in the little clearing beside the place you'd be staying.

It was a rustic log cabin, completely shielded away from everything by a large canopy of trees, a beautiful escape completely hidden away from the outside world. The cabin was almost entirely made of wood with wooden shutters and a wrap around deck.

"George it's beautiful," you say, completely gobsmacked as you look at the gorgeous lodge in front of you, seeing it illuminated by the multiple lanterns that offered a stark contrast against the pitch black night.

"Only the best for my bride," he teases, opening up his car door, prompting you to do the same.

"Want to explore whilst I unload the car?" He asks with a grin, holding the keys to the cabin out in front of you, the little wooden keyring clinking against the two old fashioned keys. You nod enthusiastically and reach out to grab them, pulling George in and without much thought, you leaned up to press a kiss to his lips. Instantly, you realised what you'd done and took a step back, blushing a little as you avoided his gaze. His hand had instinctively wrapped around your back and he gave your back a little rub as you parted, showing no ill will as you turned and walked excitedly towards the cabin.

Opening the door, you were immediately met with an illuminated room thanks to the warm lighting from multiple lamps and light fixtures. The cabin was warm, as if there was a log fire already burning and the smell was heavenly, clean and fresh but with an indisputable scent of wood and pine, a natural consequence of it's idyllic surroundings. You walked through a little entrance hall that houses a utility room before stepping into an open living room, dining room and kitchen, all of which were warm and inviting with natural wood features throughout and neutral colours, highlighting the windows which you knew would almost certainly have beautiful views in the morning. There were two brown leather sofas that looked absolutely lush and a single armchair underneath a window that looked perfect for reading, a tall lamp beside it and a little table for drinks. There was a television and a cabinet in the corner and beside that was a beautiful log burner that was indeed lit, radiating heat throughout the home. You couldn't see much through the side door that was half glass but the outside light did illuminate the decking a little, highlighting a rather impressive sunken hot tub that was covered, eliciting a little excited squeal from you.

You walked down a small corridor that led off from the main atrium through a beautifully carved wooden door with an old metal latch which led you to the bathroom on the left and two bedrooms. You crept into the bathroom to take a peak and saw a big bathtub to the left and a built in shower to the right, as if every need was catered for. One bedroom has two single beds partitioned with a beautiful shelving unit and the other bedroom was almost certainly the master.

There was a huge four poster bed against the back wall bookended by two beside tables with lamps that looked entirely too inviting. The bedding was sheer white and completely crease free, only adding to its appeal. There was a smaller television in here too, along with a dressing table and a large, ornate wardrobe that looked older than the cabin itself.

"What do you think Mrs Weasley?" George asks from behind you as you pause to run your hand over the ornately carved bed frame. You turn to see him leaning against the doorframe with a smirk, still wearing his wedding suit but now with his tie removed and a few buttons open near his collar.

"I think it's absolutely beautiful Mr Weasley," you reply, turning to him with a look of pure elation.

"Just like my wife then," he says with a look in his eyes that makes your pulse race. He steps towards you with clear conviction and it's all you can do not to melt into a puddle, the look in his eye so dangerously arousing that you're almost frozen to the spot. It was the first time he'd called you his wife and the reaction that it pulled from your body was almost unbelievable, the sound of it almost heavenly in your mind.

As soon as he reaches you, there's a brief pause as if he's searching your face for any hint of resistance, not that he'd find any. When he sees the look in your eye, knowing that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you, he steps even closer and wraps his hand around the back of your neck before leaning down and kissing you with a burning passion.

Your hands slip up to his chest, feeling the material of his lapels under your fingers and pull slightly, needing to feel him as close to you as possible as you pull his jacket off. His fingers tangle in your hair as the kiss deepens, tongues working together to fuel the burning desire between you both.

With his right hand cradling your head and his left clutching as your waist, he begins leading you to the side of the bed, silently asking if it was okay to go further.

"Make love to me George," you say against his lips, hardly wanting to pull away for even a second. You hear him groan against your lips before his hand slips from your hair and down to your butt, cradling you and taking your weight. In a move that would otherwise impress you if you'd seen it in person, he sweeps you off your feet whilst climbing onto the bed and lays you down softly before climbing over you, kicking off his shoes in the process.

"I've waited all day to rip this dress off of you," he mumbles against your skin as he begins kissing down your neck, onto your bare shoulders where your dress straps began, the soft layers of the gown suddenly feeling much too restrictive as your skin burnt up with desire. He kisses down your chest as your hands tangle in his slightly grown out hair. There's a single moment where your eyes meet, just as he hovers over your panting cleavage and it takes your breath away how absolutely sexy he looks, the desire and admiration in his eyes mirroring your own. His long fingers drag against your rib cage as they dance over to your covered breasts before he reaches in to pull down the cup of dress, exposing your right breast to him, your dusky pink nipple already hard and waiting for him. He groans, watching your breast spring free and immediately bends down to run his tongue over the pebbled nipple, eliciting a deep, breathy moan from you before his lips wrap about the little bud and begin sucking. You moan out again, throwing your head back into the pillows at the overwhelming sensation and suddenly you feel the whole atmosphere change. There's no trepidation anymore, no resistance or questioning but rather just a primal urge between both of you.

You can tell that George is feeling for the opening your dress so you divert his fingers to the small, concealed zipper on the side and help him drag it down, much too slowly for your liking. He pulls away the dress after you slip your arms out and you watch carefully as his mouth slips open to a little 'o' shape as he pulls the dress from your body, exposing you completely to his gaze. You couldn't wear a bra with your dress thanks to the unique straps but you had thought you buy a tiny white lace thong that you'd had embroidered with a little 'W' on the left side of the crotch, knowing it would either make him laugh or make him growl. Luckily for you, it was most certainly the latter as he groaned as he spotted it, momentarily fixated on your naked breasts that were exposed completely for his view, his eyes travelling down your body with acute precision before he eventually noticed your little customisation. He groans and leans down to press a kiss directly to where the 'W' was situated, just above your mound and you can't help but squirm as the sensation of having him so close to where you needed him. He notices, of course he does, and his eyes flick up to yours with a look of pure mischief as he begins kissing the inside of your thigh and across your bikini line, teasing you. You groan and can't help but roll your hips as he flutters kisses everywhere apart from where you need them.

"My beautiful wife needs something?" He teases, acting completely oblivious when you knew he was very aware.

"Please George," you beg, "need you."

Like a switch had been flicked in George's mind, his long fingers begin tracing your pussy through the very thin and nearly transparent lace, groaning once again when he feels the wetness seeping through the lace. You feel his fingers hook into the side of your thong, catching your labia with a little stroke before he pulls them away from your burning pussy, exposing you completely to his view. He wastes no time and leans down, licking a long stripe across your pussy, catching your swollen clit with the til of his tongue in the most perfect way that has you gasping and moaning.

"Fuck you taste good, so sweet," he whines into your pussy, resting his forehead against your mound for a moment before he slips down again, this time licking you with vigour. "So wet baby."

His tongue is everywhere, delicately stroking and teasing whilst also hitting every spot you need him in perfectly. It's a perfect juxtaposition between his igniting a fire inside of you, making you burn with desire and pure torment whilst also extinguishing the flames with his tongue. As soon as his finger traces your inner lips as it moves down, gently pressing into your waiting hole before he slips one of his long, deft fingers inside of you, you're gone. His name falls from your lips like a prayer, hips rising of their own accord as you grope your breasts, completely consumed by your pleasure. He slips a second finger into you as you cry out, fucking yourself on his fingers as he circles your clit with his tongue, putting pressure on the left side just as he's discovered drives you crazy.

"George, George!" You chant as you feel the beginning of your orgasm rising in you very quickly, consuming you and burning you from the inside out. Your pussy is drenched and you can feel more arousal gushing from you as your climax crests, George's own moans ringing out in your mind as he pushes you over the edge. It's like you're falling, the crescendo of light and burning arousal overtaking your whole body and mind, the only capable thought in your mind is of George. He licks you slowly as you come down, careful to avoid your sensitive clit as he laps up your cum, fingers still slowly fucking you bath and forth with gentle strokes, extending your pleasure.

You gasp to catch your breath, chest rising and falling rapidly as your heart pounds, the effects of your orgasm still lingering as you feel a tingle across your whole body. It takes all of ten seconds for you to focus your attention back to George who has pulled his fingers out of you and began kissing your inner thigh again, soothing you as you return to him.

You sit up and reach for him, pulling him on top of you as you kiss him feverishly, moaning as you taste yourself on his lips. He notices and groans deeply against your lips, almost growling as you lick at his lips, desperate for a taste. You claw at his shirt, desperate to even out your nudity and feel his skin against yours and as if he can sense the sheer desperation, reaches down and completely rips the front of his shirt, the flying and falling buttons only an afterthought as you fight to get the shredded shirt away from his body. Your hands slip to his smooth shoulders and down his back as you kiss him desperately, pulling his tongue into your mouth so you can suck on it, relishing in his deep groans and little whines. Your hands rest on his collarbones as you slowly pull away from him, pushing him slightly until he realises was you want. You overpower him with just enough force that he rolls onto his back as you immediately latch to his chest, kissing and biting as you make your way down to your destination.

His suit trousers are completely tented, the sheer size an excitement of him almost intimidating to you as you fight to open the fastenings of his trousers. You don't wait even a moment after they are open to slide them down his hips, along with his black boxer briefs until he was completely bare, except from his sentimental chain and your wedding rings. You crawl back up the bed after throwing aside his bottoms and flick your eyes up to see his own desperate look as you come face to face with his rather impressive member. His lips are parted and he looks completely desperate as he watches you carefully, silently pleading for you to take his aching length in your mouth. You grant him reprieve almost instantly, licking straight from the crest of his balls to the engorged tip of his cock, tracing the throbbing vein on the underside of his cock, following the gentle curve. He cries out at the contact and it makes you want to do everything in your power to hear it over and over again.

You gave into him completely, taking his tip in your mouth and licking all around, earning another heavenly noise from him before you sucked in your cheeks and bobbed up and down his length, taking him deeper and deeper with each fall; never stopping your tongue from running along the length of him. You were addicted to him, the taste, the weight of his length against your tongue, the feel of his smooth skin against your lips. You fought to go further with each bob, sucking him down like the most delicious treat from Honeydukes, giving everything you could.

George was moaning mess before you, desperately searching for any part of your body he could reach as he fought to stop his hips from rising each time you'd pull off, like he never wanted to leave your hot, wet mouth. Sweet names, curses and a load more expletives fell from his mouth as you pleasured him until he reached out, leaning forward to pull you closer to him.

You were dripping, more aroused than ever and so desperate for him to fill you that it was all you could think about. He pauses, looking at the little strip of lace that was still misplaced, concealing nothing of yourself and ripped the thin strings on the sides, tearing it away from your body, both of you complete bare to the other's gaze.

It was so intimate and intense that it stole the breath from your lungs, just how adoringly he was gazing at you. His hand grabbed around your neck, holding your face and threading into your hair as he kissed you completely without abandon, your chests pressed together as your leg slipped between his, desperately seeking friction.

"Ride me baby," he mumbles against your lips and as if acting directly on command, you comply. You lift your hips and straddle him, his narrow hips allowing your thighs to rest against his comfortably as your centres align, the heat and sensitivity joining together to make you both gasp.

He reaches down and holds his perfect cock at the bottom, ready for you to climb onto and you can hardly contain your cries as you slowly sink down, feeling him stretching you out. He pulls his hand away, moaning at the sensation as his hand rests on your bum, the large hand and long fingers wrapping around your bum and thigh.

It's sinful how well he stretches you out, filling you completely without any pain or discomfort, like you'd been moulded perfectly for his cock alone.

When your hips rise again and you sink back down, this time much more confidently, your head flips back at the sensation. George grunts and tightens his grip on you as you slowly begin to ride him, hips undulating and breasts bouncing as you fall into a perfect rhythm. Your hair fans out across your back and you've never felt sexier in that moment, feeling adored under his gaze and praised by not only his words but also his moans and growls.

You're both so worked up, so perfectly in sync that you can hardly contain yourself, not even caring to try and hold off the impending climax that threatens you, creeping up slowly until it's impossible to resist. You can feel your walls clenching around him, your arousal peaking as it leaks out around his cock and you're rewarded with the most incredible moans that spill from his lips at the sensation.

"George, Georgie I'm gonna," you stagger, completely breathless as you keep riding him, finding the perfect spot and movement so that he hits every single pleasure point inside you.

"Cum Angel, fuck, cum around my cock," he pants, groaning and tightening his grip on your hips as he fucks up into you. "Godric you're tight, perfect little pussy squeezing my cock so good. Cum for me Angel."

You chant his name as the heat of your second orgasm consumes you, never once stopping as you bounce on his cock. He takes over fucking up into you as you ride out your climax, filling you completely as he shoves his entire length into you before pulling almost completely out and repeating the motion. You're in complete bliss, overwhelmingly so, and can hardly stop tears of overstimulation brimming at your eyes, blurring your vision only slightly. George lets out a roar as he cums, fucking up into you with a brutal pace that is sinful at best. His hands pull you close to him, bruises forming under his grip but it's perfect.

His thrust stop slowly as he comes down from his high, riding out the last of his pleasure as he pulls you down to rest on him, softening cock slipping out at the angle. You breathe deeply as you feel the evidence of his pleasure slipping out of you slowly, trickling down until it dripped onto your inner thighs.

He cranes his neck to reach out to kiss you again, though this time it's like a warm down, gentle and sensitive.

"Welcome to the family," he wheezes after a few moments of comfortable silence and you let out a loud belly laugh at the absurdity of his words, tapping his chest as you slink down to rest beside him, his arm still keeping you pressed to him. He's covered you both with the duvet and you can't resist slipping into a very comfortable sleep, too comfortable and worn out from the day to fight it.

Taglist Requests

@ferntv

@aigowen

@that-lame-ghoul9000

@jules-with-stars

@sleepiemocha

@seppys-return-to-madness

@wtvbabes

@the-mrs-malik-styles

@cedslover

@nisapoosworld

@dashhhhkaaa

@ghostlytv

@fiathefirst

@costheticbabe

@cliffburtonscig

@lildrunkjkk

@levylovegood

@jewelsrules

@jphxnix

@asuperconfusedgirl

@staceys-moms-thighs

@nighttimewrites

@egghasnoleg

@mel119g

@angelrioter

@minatozsana

@quinny921

@blahhh819

@comicgollum20

@moonieseyelash

@marisimps

@xslashers

@70s-chic

@shadyunknowncreation

@rockabieesstuff

@moon-2424

@chx-la

@malenk

@jimmywoosimp

@soulessfictionaddict

@twistedlaces1909

@brookiecookiez0

@nightowlgirl

@football1921

@in-the-middle-of-the-sadness

@rk-ceres

@kisses4fred

@apolloleprince

@slashersimpshadow

@slytherinambitious

@screamingoverfiction

@rhunew

@tomhockstetter7-111

@hagridshaircare

@ellouisa17

@fonderaura

@clemlament

@jennapancake

@murderisfunlol

@ohantonia

@storytime-20

@guavacookie23

@satansdarlin

@smartoneamia

@littlelillysjs

@victorylr

@nanamisfootrest

@nulixity

@03michi01

@hjpbiggestdrider

@wzardweasley

[drarry-soulmates]

If Draco Malfoy had been sorted into Gryffindor (my thoughts):

I can’t even think about that without blushing TBH XD Where Drarry is concerned, JKR really saved herself with her decision to put him in Slytherin. (Not that it helped much.)

He would’ve been deeply loyal to whichever House the Hat picked for him, even if it was different than his family’s. Especially once he sees that Harry’s in the House too (becos we all know boy was instantly down bad for Potter).

Even though Draco insulted Hagrid and Ron initially, Draco would’ve eventually become Harry’s #1 bff (aside from my admittedly incredibly biased opinion that Draco’s character is far more complex & interesting than Ron’s, I also firmly believe his storyline would’ve been more closely followed in this alt-universe, considering his family is working with Voldemort).

If he were in Gryffindor, he would’ve quickly weaseled his way into Harry’s life and heart (because mutual obsession would be there). Don’t tell me 11 is too young to fall for someone—I had a full-blown obsession with a kid in my school at that age.

He would’ve made peace with Ron & Hermione in order to get into Harry’s good graces. His prejudices would’ve died fairly quickly having to be friends with Hermione.

He would’ve been another Sirius (who was sole Gryffindor of Slytherin family, BFFs with the leader of the Marauders). He and Harry would’ve been besties and played together on the Quidditch team. Their friendship would be kinda like a more angsty Scorpius and Albus, their sons (who are canonically gay in the revised final version of play!), because of Draco’s willingness to be his friend, even before knowing who he was.

Even when he first met Harry, a skinny, seemingly poor, shabby and small boy (reminiscent of a more down-trodden raven-haired, green-eyed Weasley), Draco was nice to him, talking bad only of Hagrid. Like, what??! LOL. His last words to Harry in their first-ever meeting was “Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose!” Awee >//<

On Twitter, JKR said jokingly (but we all know it’s not a joke, as I will address further down) that the rejected handshake played over and over again in Draco’s mind consistently in bk 1. The reason this was likely the truth was because in HPCC, Draco admitted to Harry, “I envied you those friendships more than anything else.” More than his fame, all the attention, all the favoritism… Draco confirmed what shippers all knew: he was legitimately just pining for Harry the whole series. 💀😭 AKA, he just wanted to be friends with Harry! Therefore, Draco was only making fun of Harry because that was the only way he could continue to be in Harry’s life. (my hEART</3 ;______;)

Considering how obsessed with each other the two were even as rivals… Can you imagine as friends? They would’ve been CANONICALLY GAY XD Like a Dumbledore x Grindelwald except where Grindelwald was a good guy lol. Draco would’ve been a great asset in their fight against Voldemort, helping Harry with finding the Horcruxes. Imagine Hermione and Draco, the top 2 smartest Hogwarts students, working together!

Draco would’ve saved Harry’s life continuously because it’s canon that Draco is brave for the people he loves. In HPCC, he admitted he felt he didn’t have anyone, not even his parents. He scoffed when Ginny brought up Crabbe and Goyle. Pansy wasn’t even mentioned. He had no one worth fighting for after he thought Harry was dead. Of course Draco would seem cowardly (aside from that time he lied about not recognizing Harry….. >___>“ Because it always comes back to Harry.)

Draco admitted in HPCC that the only reason he went dark was because he didn’t have any real friends or anyone he felt he could count on. He would’ve been good throughout had he been put into Gryffindor bc even in Slytherin he still had such a moral struggle. He was just so good (in actions, not his words). There’s simply no doubt in my mind that had he been surrounded by the love and light of Harry Potter from the start, he would have never even considered straying.

Okay, maybe just a little, because his wand was Hawthorne, which meant he’d be conflicted, but because of the unicorn core, it meant he was canonically a GOOD person. Any conflicting thoughts would’ve been much briefer and more quickly squashed out IMO, with his epic love Harry by his side. >.<”

Drarry and Jily have sooOOOoo many parallels:

Via @the-crooked-library (the link isn't working so I just copied/pasted the post):

JAMES:

Annoying Pureblood Rich Kid

barges into Lily’s compartment on Hogwarts Express with his annoying rich kid buddy

offers friendship

simultaneously insults her poor kid best friend and is therefore rejected

proceeds to make himself a nuisance for the next 5 years

Obsessed as heck w Lily but only calls her by her last name

every time she’s around feels the need to show off

makes the fool of himself every time she’s around instead

good at Quidditch though

hangs about with his gang of Cool Kids

picks on her friend partially out of jealousy, partiallly due to the whole Gryffindor vs Slytherin shit

begins realizing the errors of his ways around year 6

somehow betters himself as a person, loses the ego

becomes a truly sympathetic character at about year 7

Which I believe we can all agree sounds extremely familiar, so to sum this up…

look joanne you can’t just draw all these parallels, put jily on a pedestal as the ultimate Soulmate Bond, and then somehow expect me nOT TO SHIP DRARRY

----

Oh, and JKR calls Jily the ultimate ‘soulmates’ while falsely claiming that Harry and Draco could never be friends……. A few years after that comment, she approved and helped write the canon HPCC, where Harry and Draco…. y'know, become actual legit friends LOL….. and also heavily implied to later become related thru marriage by their sons XD so… Draco will certainly have something to look forward to at family events with the Potters.

Reminder: Despite being hated by the author, Draco lived and fought as one of the main players in the Great War and didn’t kill a single person (good or bad) throughout the entire series.

He was never violent except to Harry on the train ride, where he was likely trying to get Harry to go back home, even covering him up with the Invisibility Cloak, since that was the year he was planning on letting in the Death Eaters.

And of course in the bathroom, where Harry was literally stalking him all year… But immediately after that, when Draco had to be hospitalized AND never received any apology from Harry, he still refused to ID Harry at Malfoy Manor.... so he gets a pass.

Draco Malfoy is the epitome of: looks like he can kill you, is actually a cinnamon roll.

[cherryslyce]

Second Son (X) | Regulus Black

Series Synopsis: Forbidden from contacting Harry over the summer, you opt to explore the eerie halls of Grimmauld Place where you stumble upon a lonely portrait of the House's second son.

— Chapter Synopsis: Y/N faces the music and has a talk with Harry. Yule Break rolls around and Regulus makes a breakthrough.

Part IX / Part XI / Series Masterlist

Pairing: Regulus Black x GN!Reader

Notes: Little cliffhanger, oops. Also, yes, we are making progress towards learning the truth (more portrait lore, yay).

The watch stands for the Gryffindor versus Slytherin Quidditch match were brimming in excitement, the student body’s energy revitalized by the appointment of Ron as Gryffindor’s keeper. Standing next to Hermione, you can’t help the exhilaration that swims through your veins, glad that there was a buffer in the grim mood that shadowed over the school year. 

The sharp fweet of Madam Hooch’s whistle signals the start of the match, and enthusiastic shouts begin to erupt from all around you. These cheers only grew in volume as Ron’s flawless performance became apparent to all the watchers. 

You hadn’t realized your friend was this good.

As if reading your thoughts, Hermione leans over to you as Ron manages to knock away the quaffle again, “Harry dosed him with Felix Felicis during breakfast.” 

Quirking your head at the revelation, your eyes follow Ginny’s zipping figure around the field, thoroughly impressed by both Weasleys’ playing. 

“Somehow I doubt that. Harry’s sweet, but he’s not wasteful. There are better things to use the concoction on, no?” Hermione doesn’t respond to your words, but you feel her shift at the implications of them, likely agreeing. 

If your friend group were leading ordinary lives, using Felix Felicis on arbitrary things like Quidditch matches would be fine, if not expected, but with Voldemort lurking about, the liquid could probably be put to better use. 

As the game continues on, you’re hardly surprised when Gryffindor begins to lead by a landslide before ultimately coming out victorious. As everyone explodes in celebration, you quickly slink away from the boisterous crowd, not quite in a partying mood. You had heard Dean talking before the match, and he had mentioned that the party would be open to any house–though, you didn’t suspect many Slytherins would attend anyway.

You figured that the celebration would drag on for hours on end which gave you quite some time to wander without peering eyes.

Roaming the grounds of the castle for a while, you feel lonelier than usual, not having Regulus in your pocket. Despite the boy’s history as a quidditch player himself, he opted to remain in your dorm, stating that he needed peace and quiet. You couldn’t fault him, the both of you were feeling unnerved with every passing day as Harry seemed to pointedly avoid the topic of Regulus’ existence. 

A part of you hoped that he perhaps forgot about the whole ordeal or thought it to be trivial, but you knew he was likely just busy with trying to con Slughorn. 

Feeling the chill of the weather bite at your fingers, you decide to make your way back inside the castle. As you quietly pad through the halls, you’re shaken from your thoughts as a deep voice echoes around the walls, “L/N. Surprised to see you here.” 

Spinning around, you see a familiar figure walking towards you with a small smirk. The faint sag in his shoulders was the only indication that he was fatigued from the quidditch match. 

“Zabini. Shouldn’t you be off sulking with the rest of the Slytherin team?” Your words are tinged with amusement and you spin back around, knowing that the boy would eventually catch up to you. 

As you round the corner, Blaise manages to fall into step with you, “Moping has never been a strong suit of mine.” 

“I suppose tantrums would mar that whole quintessential gentility image you have going on. What about comfort? Is that something you’re adept with?” You weren’t sure what exactly you were hoping to achieve from the conversation, but becoming familiar with the Slytherin may prove beneficial in the future. 

Blaise lets out a quiet chuckle at your words, “Are you asking me to console you, L/N?” 

“Forget me, you’re not really my type. It’s your little peacock who seems awfully peaky as of late. He nearly bit my head off in the library the other day.” You roll your eyes, recalling the strange encounter you had with the Malfoy heir. 

The boy was acting awfully suspicious.

Blaise seems to straighten up at your words, eyes flickering quickly around the hall as he understands your insinuation, “Draco can take care of himself.” 

“If you’re sure.” Your words come out just above a whisper, and you’re left to your thoughts as Blaise seems content with just walking in silence. 

Not minding the boy’s presence, you began to think about possible avenues of research you could explore to try and solve the mystery of Regulus’ existence, wanting to find answers for not only yourself, but Regulus as well. Merlin, how the boy wasn’t mad for answers was beyond you. 

A few moments pass before you’re struck with a thought that has you pausing in your tracks. Blaise is quick to follow, turning to look at your contemplative expression, “Should I be worried that you’re plotting my murder, L/N?” 

“Quite the contrary, Zabini. How do you feel about making these meetings a regular thing?” Your smile is only a tad inscrutable, but you can see the interest glinting brightly in the boy’s eyes. 

“Are you sure you’re not interested in me, L/N? I wouldn’t fault you if you were.” His words have you rolling your eyes, but you can’t help the victorious feeling that bloats in your stomach as you see him let his guard down. 

“Really, you’re not my type. I’m just asking if you want to be…friends, I guess you could say.” You try to plaster on the most companionable smile you can manage. Come on Zabini, accept the olive branch.

Blaise hums in thought before turning around, and for a moment you’re afraid he’s going to ignore your request. Following him quickly, Blaise tosses you a small smile before replying, “I suppose you’ll have to tell me what your type is since we’re friends now.”  

You breathe out a small laugh, “Hard to describe, but let’s just say I have a thing for men that are a bit emotionally constipated. A touch of cynicism and awkward affection never hurt anyone either.” It was hard to put into words, but Regulus had a certain way of jarring you everyday, and his occasional niceties always had your stomach fluttering wildly. Not to mention your bloody patronus was all thanks to him. 

“A certain slytherin, then?” Blaise’s words come out light, but you can see the wild interest flying around in his gaze. 

Shaking your head, you can only sigh at the boy’s quick thinking, “How’d you know?” 

“Well, no one is better than me, but I suppose a fellow Slytherin is acceptable. Also, your ring. Two snakes? Subtle.” Your eyes shoot down to the ring you’ve been subconsciously twirling on your finger, and you gape at Blaise’s amused expression. 

Before you can respond, you’re both distracted by the sight of Harry and Hermione. The pair are sat at the bottom of the stairs, Hermione clearly upset over something, while Harry was trying his best to silently comfort her. Shooting an apologetic glance at the Slytherin, you’re met with a hum of understanding before he’s walking off. 

“See you around, Y/N.” 

As you wave at the Slytherin’s retreating figure, you see Harry shoot you a confused look. 

Great, another topic of conversation we need to discuss. 

Walking over to the pair, you crouch down in front of Hermione, whose eyes are red-rimmed and puffy from crying. 

“What happened, ‘Mione? Do I need to hex someone?” Hermione’s only response is a watery laugh before she’s wiping furiously at her eyes and nose. 

You look to Harry for an answer and he winces before quietly answering, “Ron and Lavender.” 

Well. That’s an unexpected pair. 

“Shall I kill the both of them?” Your voice comes out completely flat and serious, but it’s enough to have Hermione smiling down at you before seemingly calming herself. 

“It doesn’t matter. He can be with whomever he wants.” She is quick to jump up from her spot, “Now, I’ll see you both before dinner then?”

Without waiting for a verbal reply, Hermione clambers up the stairs and out of your sight, leaving you alone with Harry. The boy simply juts his chin at the newly empty spot beside him, looking at you with poorly veiled anticipation. 

Slowly lowering yourself down next to him, you both stare straight ahead in silence. It seems like hours pass as you both sit on the cold stone steps, hoping that the other would speak first. 

Harry slowly reaches for his wand, casting a quiet muffliato, before speaking, “So, Regulus Black.” 

“Yeah.” You nod slowly and fiddle with your ring, unable to bring yourself to say much more unprompted. 

Harry swallows harshly before continuing, “It wasn’t a photo, was it? I thought about it some more, and he was a portrait.” He turns his head slightly and chances a glance at you, “Right?” 

You bite the inside of your cheek in contemplation, unsure of how to respond to his remark without accidentally word-vomiting. 

“Cats out of the bag, I guess.” Your voice is weak, but you feel relieved when Harry looks over and smiles at you. Good to know he doesn’t hate you.

“Sirius doesn’t know.” It isn't a question, but rather a statement–one that has you hesitantly nodding. 

You lean your head down on his shoulder tiredly, mumbling out a small excuse, “Reggie wasn’t ready. We were figuring some things out for ourselves for a while, and he has this annoying gap in his memory that I’m trying to learn more about.” 

“Reggie?” You feel Harry turn his head down to peer at you, “Okay. Uhm, you don’t have to tell me everything now, but maybe when he’s up for it, you can bring him round to Sirius?” 

Tugging your jacket tighter around your curled form, you nod against his shoulder before whispering a small thanks to the boy. It wasn’t the lengthy exchange you were expecting, but you weren’t upset about how it went. Actually, this was probably the best case scenario. 

“So…Blaise?” His words are teasing and you’re surprised that he’s not accusing you of colluding with the boy, especially given how suspicious he’s been of Draco. 

Groaning at the implications of his words, you shake your head fervently, “Absolutely not. We’re just friends, kinda. Honestly, he’s not so bad and I’m hoping that it can be a mutually beneficial friendship. Blaise’s mother has connections spanning the entirety of Europe, and I’m hoping that maybe I can learn some more about Regulus’ predicament if I get some help.” 

“I see. If not Blaise, then Regulus?” Harry’s finger pokes into your ribs as he tries to fight the wide grin pulling at his lips. 

“What?” Your voice comes out strained, but bewildered and it has Harry smiling cheekily. 

“Well, he is quite handsome isn’t he?” Harry pauses before continuing, “Not as handsome as Sirius, though.” 

Shaking your head, you respond woefully, “I will absolutely be telling him you said that. But is there something you want to tell me? I thought you were tripping over your own feet for Ginny?” 

Harry emits a loud groan and gently shoves you to the side, ears flushing beet red. You laugh at your friend’s disgruntled expression and bask in the happy moment, satisfied that you lifted his spirits up. 

The following weeks spin by in a blur, and you’re barely able to take the time to appreciate how uneventful it was. It was the night before Yule Break and you were draped over one of the library tables, head pressed against the cool wood as mountains of scrolls and parchments surrounded your motionless figure. 

You had packed away your things the night before, excited to spend the break with Harry and Sirius at Grimmauld Place (of course, you secretly had your own agenda). Harry was planning on heading to the Burrow for the second half of the break, which would leave you to attend to the recovering Black Lord by your lonesome. 

Hopefully, you could enlist the help of Remus so you could sneak away and explore. 

‘Have you died, little bird?’ Regulus’ voice is airy as it rings in your head. 

‘Unfortunately not. Mind putting me out of my misery?’ The sudden exchange has you peeling your heavy eyes open to stare at a blank parchment next to your head. Your bleary vision slowly warps and dances before focusing. 

‘You’ll have more than enough time to finish work over the break. Go rest unless you wish to miss the train tomorrow morning.’ 

‘I won’t miss it, I have you, my little alarm clock.’ Your tone is sickly sweet, and you could almost feel the way Regulus rolls his eyes at your words. Though, you supposed he was right, it would do you little good to be sleep-deprived on the first day of break. 

Beginning to sort through the mayhem of papers on the table, you barely hear his response, ‘It is truly unfortunate that I am unable to dump water on you then.’ 

‘How gauche, Reg. Besides, you wouldn’t. You love me too much.’ 

Reg doesn’t even pause before he retorts, ‘I’m keen on tough love.’ 

‘Not my observation, you’re a big teddy bear.’ Your smile doesn’t falter, even when you hear footsteps echoing nearby. 

‘A little ironic coming from a bleeding heart.’ 

‘Oh hush, don’t act like it runs for anyone other than you.’ You feel your face heat up at the admission, realizing that it was the farthest you’ve ever gotten at verbalizing your feelings. 

‘I suppose we both make exceptions for each other, birdie.’ 

His words have your face blossoming in warmth, and your hand pauses to hover over your bag. The drumming of your heart failed to cease even as you laid down on your bed later that night. In fact, it only grew worse when Regulus shot you a teasing smile as you rolled over to peer at his portrait. 

Merlin.

The start to your Yule Break was confusing to say the least. 

It was merely your first day back at Grimmauld Place and a sudden swelling of magical energy coming from your pocket had you frantically pacing back and forth in the disappearing room.

Regulus’ portrait had suddenly thrummed with wound up magic the moment Sirius stalked over to give you a firm hug as you settled into the home. The reaction was almost instantaneous, with Sirius even drawing back in confusion, having felt something faintly draw at his magical energy. 

You were quick to make an excuse to run up the top floor, practically barreling through the familiar door once you caught sight of the crystal knob. 

Regulus was currently propped up on the dresser, eyes glazed over as he remained unresponsive. You could feel Sirius’ magic wrapping around the frame and interlacing with the faint magic emitting from the object, only further piquing your curiosity.  

After a few more rounds of circling the room, you’re dragged from your pool of thoughts at the sound of Regulus’s voice. 

“Birdie.” It comes out strained, like he was still trying to sort out his thoughts. 

You practically fly over to the aged furniture, pressing your hands against the edge of the dark wood in worry, “Reg. Are you okay? What happened? Should I do something?” 

Regulus smiles softly at the flurry of questions, curls shaking as he tilts his head, “One question at a time. But yes, I’m alright. As for what happened…that’s a bit more convoluted.” 

“It’s okay, take your time. Sirius thinks that I’m off organizing my classwork anyway,” You drawl quietly. 

“Good thinking, my brother was always amusingly frightened by academic diligence.” Regulus’ musing has you propping your elbows on the dresser, keen on allowing the boy to guide the conversation. 

“Frightened he may be, but I think he’s fond of me now that he knows I’ve saved his life, twice.” You raise two fingers and wiggle them for emphasis, managing to nick a small grin from Regulus. 

“I remembered something. When Sirius hugged you, it seemed to dismantle some kind of block in my memory.” Regulus’ words come out dryly, but he’s still smiling at you like you hung the stars in the sky. 

You feel your eyes widen at his words, “That’s fantastic, Reg!” You pause before leaning back, “Right? That’s good, right?” 

The boy nods, before he sweeps a hand to push back his curls, “It’s amazing. Overwhelming, but amazing. It’s just, with the block gone, I remember everything. Including that two week gap before my death.” 

Your breath hitches, “So, human-Regulus put the block into place then?” 

Regulus nods slowly in confirmation, “Yes. Why he did it though still remains a little fuzzy to me. As of now, I only really can make sense of a few details, mostly about the Dark Lord.”

Your lips part as you try to formulate a coherent sentence, but you’re too surprised by the revelation to say anything, so Regulus continues, “Birdie, the Dark Lord was creating horcruxes. That’s likely how I met my demise. I remember it. Shortly before I–human-me disappeared, he was frantic over it.”

“Horcruxes?” The word feels bitter on your tongue, but you fall short on an answer for what it might mean, “I haven’t heard of such a thing before. Do you reckon that Harry has?”

“I think so. If not him, then Dumbledore might have an inkling of suspicion.” Seeing your questioning gaze, Regulus sighs and lifts his eyes to meet yours, “I’m not too familiar with what a horcrux is exactly, but I do know it’s a horrifically dark artifact. One capable of splitting someone’s soul through means of murder.” 

“Soul splitting? That sure has ‘Voldemort’ written all over it.” Your breathy laugh does nothing to relieve the sudden pressure in your chest, realizing that Voldemort was much more than just a psychotic wizard deluded by prophecies. 

Shaking your head, you force your anxiety aside, “It’s okay. If Dumbledore has an idea of it, then maybe there’s still a chance after all. Let’s skip over this right now, it’ll do us no good to spoil Yule so early. We can approach Harry about it after the break.” 

Regulus slowly nods, he too, investing his hopes in the eclectic headmaster, “Alright. There is something else I remember. I don’t know as much about it though since human-me was a bit hush hush on the subject. That, or he thought it wasn’t worth indulging after the whole horcrux news.” You bite down a laugh as Regulus rolls his eyes at the thought.

“Oh? Do tell.” You lean forward on your toes, pressing your weight fully on the dresser. 

“It might be in one of the boxes here. It’s some kind of rare book or journal that my Uncle Alphard gifted to me the year everything fell into chaos,” Regulus relays. 

Perking up, you quickly shuffle over to the dusty boxes in the middle of the room, bent on finding out what the boy was talking about. As you rifled through the endless pool of miscellaneous items, your fingers suddenly bump against a leathery surface at the bottom of a particular buried box. 

Fishing out the promising item, you let out a triumphant cry as you hold the book up in the air, “Reggie, is it this one?” You clamber off the floor and practically thrust the tome into the portrait. 

“Bingo. Good job, little bird.” Regulus’ words are colored in excitement and you’re reluctant to take away the book to read the title, knowing that Regulus was eager to look at the book as well. 

Slowly, you retract the item and flip it over, reading the words etched across the dusty orange cover. 

Fuck.

“It’s in Norwegian!” Your cry of dismay has Regulus raising his eyebrows. 

Seeming to take pity on your defeated form, which was slowly sinking onto the floor again, Regulus quickly comes up with a solution, “Birdie, just use a translation charm.” 

“Oh. Right.” You frown lightly at the realization, profusely apologizing to Professor Flitwick under your breath. Some Charms maven, you were.

“Don’t get too excited yet. You should go eat something, I can feel your brain fog from here,” Regulus’ teasing only draws a groan from your slumped form. 

Whipping out your wand, you cast a quiet reducio at the book, thankful that the disappearing room seemed to block out the trace on your wand. You were careless when you first shrank Regulus’ portrait before fifth year, forgetting about the underage magic trace, but luckily the Ministry never owled you a letter of warning. 

Tucking away Regulus and the leather book in your pockets, you swiftly make your way out of the room and down the dimly lit stairs, hands reaching to rub your empty stomach. One thing you didn’t miss during your times at Grimmauld Place was the lack of proper food. Kreacher could cook decently when he wanted to, but he never really seemed to spare an effort when Sirius asked. 

As you enter the threshold of the kitchen, you see a delighted Harry seated at one end of the table, and a flabbergasted Sirius at the other end. 

“Hey guys, what’s up?” Your voice interrupts the silent conversation they were having, with Harry turning to face your approaching figure. 

In spite of Harry’s active attention, it’s Sirius who speaks up, crossing his arms over his chest as he smiles widely, “Prongslet was just telling me about his success in Potions.” 

You nod enthusiastically at the reminder, “Harry is on his way to a Potions Mastery at this rate. Slughorn is practically yodeling his praises.” Your words have Harry rolling his eyes, but Sirius seems even more pleased at the reaction. 

Clapping your hands on Harry’s shoulders, you bring up a pressing matter to the men, “Now, how about we continue this chat over lunch, I’m starved.” 

The next few days of your break are spent following a routine of reading the tome, eating with Harry and Sirius, and surprisingly, exchanging letters with Blaise. 

The Italian heir was quite entertaining to communicate with, even through letters. You both established an unusual bond, and you found yourself finding common ground with him over your interests in dissecting anachronistic pureblood traditions. Blaise was surprisingly progressive about a lot of the political issues that wracked Britain, having grown up in Italy for a long while. 

Apparently British purebloods were the only ones on the upkeep about blood purity. 

You had spent about four days at Grimmauld Place before Harry was off sending a letter to the Burrow, notifying the Weasleys of his approaching visit. 

You were a bit dispirited to have him leaving so soon, but you knew he was eager to see Hermione and Ron (and Ginny, but he would likely send a stinging jinx at you for saying as much). 

It was the day after Harry had left when you decided to do your research more openly, knowing that Sirius had little concern about what books you were reading. As you progressed in your studying of the Norwegian tome, you realized that the book was concerned with discussions and theories on magical essences and their temperament, which was interesting to say the least. 

You could feel it. The truth behind Regulus’ portrait was somewhere in this book.

Though you knew very little about the capabilities of magical essences, you realized that you were much more in tune with reading and feeling other wizard’s magic, so if anyone could figure it out, it would be you. No, it had to be you. 

“Are you sure you didn’t want to tag along with Prongslet, kid?” Sirius’ voice has you raising your head from your reading, the man casually propping his feet on the opposite end of the table. 

“If I’m not here, who will look after you, old man?” You mused. 

Sirius huffs in indignation, “I’m not some pallid geriatric. I’ll be fine on my own. Besides, wouldn’t you rather be off with Molly? I know it’s not my cooking that’s keeping you here.” 

“If you keep complaining, I just might regret my decision. But nah, I like it here. Plus the Burrow is too loud to get work done.” You droned as you brought your gaze back to the text in front of you. 

“Your head is always halfway down a book, kid. You know…you remind me a lot of my brother, he was a huffy scholar growing up.” Sirius’ voice is even, but as you flicker your eyes up to meet his, you can see the undeniable grief lingering in them. 

Sitting up, you clear your throat, “Your brother? Were you guys close?” 

You already knew the answer, having been given a brief rundown of Regulus’ homelife sometime ago during a sleepless night at Hogwarts. 

“Merlin, no. Not when we were older at least. But he used to follow me around as kids, toddling after me with his cherub cheeks and wobbly knees. Admittedly, he was adorable as a youngster. Never had anyone look up to me like he did…then my parents sunk their claws into him.” Sirius seems to be reminiscing more to himself now, words growing quieter with each passing second. 

“Do you miss him?” Your question is barely above a whisper. 

Sirius raises his eyes to study you for a few moments before somberly tapping his knuckles against the table, “Everyday.” 

Reaching into your pocket, you wrap your fingers around the familiar frame, looking back down at the table in contemplation. 

‘Reg...’ 

‘It’s okay.’ Regulus’ words are quiet, his voice sounding choked up. You could tell he was touched and relieved by his brother’s words, unable to hide just how much he missed the man. 

With his approval, you decide to take the leap, “Sirius, I think there’s something you should know about.” 

The man’s eyebrows raise at your words and he leans forward in interest. You inhale shakily as you steel yourself, confidence wavering as different scenarios flurried around in your head. 

Before you can unveil the truth, however, a blast of blue light bursts through the wall and makes its way to the center of the table. 

A stag. 

The appearance of Harry’s familiar patronus has your blood running cold and you leap up from your seat, seeing Sirius slowly rise from his, as well. 

“The Burrow has been attacked. Voldemort knows.” 

The patronus dissipates, and you suddenly can't breathe.

He knows.  

tag list: @krazyk99 @venomsvl @valsarchives @bunny24sstuff @novella12nite @elia-the-bibliophile @txoru @xlifexdeathx @trikigirl271 @the-marauders-world @sleepydang @blueberry-thrawn @lestat-whore @chanaaaannel @clockworkherondale @peachyaeger @thegayhoenextdoor @l--absinthe @ok-boke @anni1309-blog @summer-noir @mikeikax @mysticlockwood-ig @musically-ambiguous @dittos-blog-dylanobrien @friendly-neighborhood-boricua

[xxlittle0birdxx]

The music abruptly stopped, and a few minutes later, the door opened a mere crack. One bright green eye appeared, followed by the rest of Harry, clad in an old and faded Fitchburg Finches t-shirt and an equally ragged pair of joggers. ‘I should have called,’ Ginny said, all at once self-conscious. ‘I listened to the match, and for some stupid reason thought you’d like…’ She trailed off, face reddening. 'This didn't sound nearly as stupid in my head. I thought you might like some company, but clearly you'd rather be alone.'

Harry opened the door wider and gestured for her to come inside before she could babble her way off his doorstep. ‘Never call,’ he said. ‘Always show up.’

[artemisiamezzanotte]

Why both Jily and Jegulus make sense in the Marauders Fandom

Okay, so I have been seeing a few posts recently dismissing Jegulus as a ship and, although I am personally more of a Jily than a Jegulus girly, I thought I'd explain why both ships make sense to me in the context of the original source material.

We know that there is a direct link between the Marauders and the Golden Trio in the books, and that each member of one mirrors a member of the other.

James and Harry being the most obvious, as father and son and the perceived 'leader' of their group of friends.

Sirius and Ron, the 'best friend'. Both from pureblood families, although the Blacks and the Weasleys couldn't be more different in their beliefs. Both feel misunderstood and perhaps misplaced in their family. Both give James and Harry unadulterated, solid friendship that is fiercely loyal and unquestioning.

Remus and Hermione, the outcasts. Remus due to his lycanthropy, Hermione due to her muggleborn status. Both try to counterbalance this by excelling in their studies and are, by nature (again, this is in the original books) more rule-followers rather than rebels.

Peter and Neville, the astonished Gryffindors. Both from pureblood families, both equally surprised by being sorted in the house where bravery is valued most. They each deal with impostor syndrome, but whilst Neville's friends build him up and he eventually comes into his own thanks to Dumbledore's Army, Peter fails (or is failed by his friends) in doing so and betrays them for the dark side.

We know that Harry ends up marrying Ginny, who is, like Lily, a magically talented and strong-willed red-haired witch but is also his best friend's younger sibling. So, James falling for Regulus doesn't feel like too far a stretch to me.

Jegulus also gives the opportunities to explore a lot of interesting considerations for writers, such as (i) what is the difference between loving someone as a best friend and loving someone romantically; (ii) you can't choose the family you are born into but you can make your own family as you grow older; (iii) what are the differences in relationship dynamics between partners, lifelong friends and siblings?

I'm sure someone has more cleverly and thoroughly analysed these parallels before but I just wanted to share my unsolicited opinion with the tubmlrverse.

Overall, I would say if you enjoy reading something, read it. If you find yourself not enjoying something, DON'T. Freedom is fickle in this flawed world, so exercise it ruthlessly where you can.

Ok, rant over, Misia out x

[libraryofhogwarts]

A Deal Made on Impulse

Ginny Weasley x Pansy Parkinson

Ginny is in a sticky situation and Pansy seems to be the only way out. But why would she agree?

Chapter 1: I'll Owe You One

Series masterlist

The walk to Three Broomsticks was awful. Ginny could usually handle the cold. After years of playing on the Quidditch team, she thought she would have built immunity to it with the early morning practices, the grass still covered in frost, or the games played in lightning storms.

But no. It’s mid-winter, meaning the hills surrounding Hogwarts and Hogsmeade are covered in at least a foot of snow and the black lake is half frozen over. Trudging through the snow, boots crunching on the icy snow was not a pleasurable experience.

At least the trip was worth the reward. Ginny could not wait to step inside the pub, warmed by the roaring fire. She would order a butterbeer, hopefully the alcohol could help to heat her insides as well.

She finally crests the hill, setting off to cross the old stone bridge towards the cozy-looking candlelight in the windows of the restaurant.

The old brass door handle stings the skin of Ginny’s palm as she clutches it to open the door from the frost along its metal curve. She hisses and rubs her hands together.

Walking into the room roaring with chatter from other patrons, she makes a mental note to not forget her mittens on her next walk. If she’s honest with herself, however, it’ll probably slip her mind. For some reason, mittens are always the one thing she forgets.

Across a crowd of what looks to be third years, way too young to be in the pub, she sees her brothers, Harry, Hermione, Draco, Neville, and Theo huddled on the couch and surrounding armchairs propped in front of the massive sandstone fireplace.

She weaves her way through a bumbling group of teens, probably drunk off Butterbeer, past two fourth years awkwardly flirting. She inwardly cringes at the boy pretending to yawn, wrapping his arm around the girl. It’s the oldest trick in the book, does he think that’ll actually work?

The girl tips her chin down, hiding her small smile, and blushes when his hand makes contact with her shoulder. I guess so Ginny thinks. She shakes her head, leaving the awkwardness behind her to continue on her path.

Once she reaches the group she’s met with Hello’s and Gin you’re finally here’s, spoken over the top of one another. She addresses them all with a general “Hello, hello,” in greeting before shoving George to the side and plopping down on the end of the couch.

“Hey! What was that for?” George wines.

“I wanted to sit. You were in the way Georgie,” she says the last bit with a sickly sweet tone in her voice.

“You’re lucky I love you,”

“Yeah, yeah, I love you too Georgie,” she stretches her legs and arms out in front of her towards the fire, trying to warm the limbs. The cold from outside still lingered in her bones.

The conversation between her friends resumes. Apparently, Harry was still hopelessly crushing on Cho and needed advice from Ron on what he should do about it. Neville, sitting in one of the armchairs chatted with the twins about the Quidditch game from two days ago. Ravenclaw lost against Gryffindor and while Neville had a lot of house pride his girlfriend, Luna, was a Ravenclaw so he sided with them, hence the friendly arguing between the three.

Hermione was sitting in Draco’s lap in the other chair; the pair in their own little world. They whispered in each other’s ears, Hermione giggling and blushing every so often at whatever suggestive thing Draco says.

Ginny’s heart aches a tinge at the sight of the couple. She wanted that. Her own person. Someone who understood her completely; could make her blush and laugh. Someone to love.

Ginny stands abruptly from her seat on the couch’s end, stretching her limbs. Hermione casts a worrying glance at her. The girls had become very close over the last couple of years especially. The best of friends truth be told. It’s almost as if Hermione could instinctually tell something was off with Ginny’s mood.

Ginny didn’t know if this warmed her heart or only made it worse. She loved that her friend knew her so well and cared enough to pay attention; Ginny was used to getting overlooked. Growing up in a house of almost all boys, she was just another one of the brothers it seemed.

She loved Quidditch more than the average girl her age, she wanted to know all about her father’s trinkets and tinkering, and more often than not she came in for dinner covered in mud after playing in the yard all day when she was young.

It did unsettle her, however, that her friend was so in tune with her cranky mood. She didn’t want that to be the norm for her personality. She did not want to weigh down her friends with her own issues. It wasn’t their problem to deal with.

Though nowadays it seemed that she was… unsettled more often than not. She was always finding the glass half empty rather than full and she didn’t know what to do; or how to change her mindset.

“Getting a drink,” she said with the brightest tone she could muster for Hermione’s sake. The woman just nodded, turning back to her boyfriend, knowing the redhead did not want to talk about what was on her mind.

Making her way across the room, she saddled up next to the mahogany bar. The bar top was glossy and smooth, the grains of wood stood out against the dark stain. There were brass stools with black cushions sporadically placed under the counter.

There was enough space for her to squeeze in between two stools and wait. She gave a wave, trying to flag down the bartender. He just gave a grunt of acknowledgment before turning back to the glass he was polishing. Grump Ginny thought.

He was an old man, with a scruffy beard and just as white of hair that reached the tips of his ears. In all the years Ginny has been coming here she doesn’t think he’s muttered more than ten words to her; usually choosing to communicate through grunts.

She looked to the shelf containing the alcohol, knowing it would take the bartender a couple of minutes before he begrudgingly made his way to Ginny to take her order.

She scanned the top shelf, nothing looked too enticing. The second shelf had some sort of liquid in a pear-shaped bottle. It glowed blue and had, what seemed to be a shimmer to it. Interesting, I’ll have to try that one of these days.

By the time the bartender made it to her, she was on her second perusal of the selves.

He grunted again by way of asking for her order.

“Just a Butterbeer please.”

He said nothing and grabbed a stout cup with a thick stem and some sort of swirling pattern to the glass. He filled the container almost full from the tap, then he set the glass down on the counter. Before Ginny could grab it however she noticed a figure in the mirror on the back wall behind the liquor.

No. Please no, not right now! It was her ex-boyfriend, Dean. They had dated for a handful of months before Ginny called it quits. He was nice enough if you ignored the fact that he complained about everything Ginny wore, who she talked to, and everything she did. Oh, and he seemed to be allergic to monogamy; always chatting up other women.

When she finally officially broke up he was upset but he left her alone after that, at least until a week later when he started showing up outside her classes, dorm room, at dinner or breakfast, and just in general any place he thought Ginny might be begging for her back.

He’d plead that he would change, that they were great together, that they should not let that connection go, they should give it another shot, blah blah blah.

At first Ginny found herself feeling sorry for the guy. Why? She had no idea, but then she remembered all the trouble he put her through and those emotions quickly faded. She tried to explain that this was best to Dean in the least harsh way possible; trying to keep some semblance of peace, but maybe she needed to be a bit harsher because he was not getting the point.

No matter how many times she’d tell him that it would never work, that they weren’t right for each other he didn’t take the hint. She was getting sick of having to reject the guy at every turn.

Now Dean’s form was moving closer in her direction. She moved to grab her glass and bolt for her friends but the bartender grunted again in disapproval. She looked away from her cup, at him to see that his wand was out. Right the foam. He tapped the stick on the side of the glass as it magically began to fill with a frothy foam on top.

She tapped her foot in impatience, grabbing the glass as soon as he was done and leaving a couple of galleons in its place, not caring that they were worth more than the cost of the beverage.

She turned intent on racing back to her group. If she made it in time Dean would surely leave her alone. Ginny was almost positive that Dean was scared of Draco.

Who could blame him really, Draco’s a scary guy but after seeing the way his eyes soften when Hermione rants about the latest book she’s reading or the way he places a steading hand on her elbow when she stumbles walking back from the library after hours of studying, Ginny can’t find it in her to fear him anymore.

Unfortunately, Dean was too close for her to make it back to the cozy couch. She turned in the other direction, hoping to lead him away from her friends so she could circle back before he noticed what was happening.

She passed the hallway that leads to the bathrooms when she heard him call her name. Ugh, the desperate way he said it. Like she was the one causing the issues and if she just heard him out they could fix this.

Well, they couldn’t. There was nothing to fix, not before and definitely not now. She was beyond sick and tired of having to delicately explain this concept to him. He just could not take no for an answer, could he?

She had to get this to stop. She could not take any more of the relentless pursuit. She felt like she might lose her mind if she had to endure one more moment of it. That’s when she saw her.

Pansy Parkinson.

She was in the same year as Ron and Harry but the Slytherin and her had shared quite a few classes. Even sat next to each other in one.

Pansy was walking towards her, likely on her way to the restroom from the looks of her route. Ginny sidestepped just in time to block the woman’s path. Pansy stopped abruptly at the unexpected intrusion. Eyebrows furrowed in confusion at Ginny’s obvious interruption of her path.

“What can I do for you, Weasley?” she had a teasing tone in her voice

“Kiss me?” her question was high-pitched, in an effort to soften the unexpected question.

“What?” her brows shot up her forehead.

“Please, I’ll owe you one. A huge one.” Her eyes pleaded, turning to the side in a way of gesturing to her ex, now standing behind her at a distance. Maybe he feared all Slytherin’s not just Draco? That could be useful information.

Pansy seemed to ponder the idea for all of two seconds, looking back towards Dean and then focusing her attention back on Ginny, “Okay,” she surprised Ginny by agreeing.

Just like that Pansy’s lips were on her own. She really didn’t think this far into her master plan, in the moment, stupid, impulsive plan. What should she do, and how should she react? She’d never kissed a girl before. She’d thought about it sure, but never done it.

Pansy answered her questions by sliding her cold fingertips across her temple and into her hair, the other hand coming to her waist and pulling her in. Their hips met in a crash just as Pansy’s tongue brushed lightly across her bottom lip asking for entry.

Ginny immediately granted her access, opening her lips, their tongues meeting and swirling. She whimpered, her free hand coming to the curve of Pansy’s waist and melting into the woman.

At Ginny’s touch, Pansy pulled back just slightly, her eyes closed, their foreheads resting together. The breaths intermingled, tangling just as their tongues had moments ago.

The woman pulled back, the cold air filling the now gaping space between them. Ginny wanted to whimper at the cold; the loss of touch but she held back. She looked up at Pansy, a slight pink, almost invisible, now coating her cheeks and the tip of her nose. It’s as if she’d been walking out in the cool air for a few minutes.

“You own me, Weasley,” Pansy started back for the hallway, “Don’t you forget it.” She threw that last bit over her shoulder.

Ginny looked over her shoulder to where Dean had been minutes ago only to find the space empty, the man nowhere in sight. She turned walking back to her friends, biting down in a hopeless effort to hide her smirk.

Except this smirk had nothing to do with the fact that she had avoided a confrontation with her ex and everything to do with the sassy woman she now owed a favor to.

She was so fucked.

Hello hello! Thank you for reading the first chapter to a fic that is very near and dear to my little sapphic heart. Now I've already spewed the nitty gritty on my AO3 so if you want some more info go check that out but I am still working on this fic. I am all ears to how you perceived this work: if its amazing pls do tell, if it's trash also lmk that lol. I'm very interested to know your opinion or if you have any ideas/wants on where you would like to see this series go. You can comment or my asks are totally open! Again thanks!!

[ibbythebee]

hi!! can you write a seamus x reader one shot where he sees reader getting closer to ginny and gets all pouty cause he never thought he'd be jealous of someone younger than him but eventually he gets his head out of his ass (maybe ginny herself does it for him cause she's tired of them pining or whatever) and confesses to reader

totally okay if you dont feel like it btw cause i know you dont usually write for seamus

a/n: Yabsolutely! Thank you so much for your request, anon. I'm up to write for any of the Harry Potter bois. They all deserve some love. Can I also just say, that I love Seamus' rings.

Green-Eyed

gif credit: @X_phantomhorseman_X on wattpad

pairing: Seamus Finnigan x Reader | best friends to lovers

summary: Seamus shouldn't be jealous of Ginny spending more time with you. You're just a friend to him, nothing more... right?

genre: a good dose of fluffy angst

warnings: jealous Seamus, slightly possessive, pining, 'spud' nickname, Ginny and Seamus banter, little bit o' good old kisses

words: 3.8k

masterlist

»»————-　⌁　————-««

There you are again, doubled over at something Ginny’s told you. You’d just gotten back from a Quidditch game, and to Gryffindor’s delight, they’d won the game.

It was intense, exhilarating, thrilling. Gryffindor won for Godric's sake, so why—

“—do you look so down?” Neville inquires, settling himself on the couch next to the said teen.

The Irish boy doesn’t do much but sigh and shrug, leaning a cheek on his fist and staring into the fire pit.

"It's the O.W.Ls coming up, isn't it? Yeah." The dark-brown haired boy nods as if he's just said something genius. "I can't say I'm any good at Transfiguration, but I'll definitely help you with Herbology."

Seamus still doesn't react, intently listening in to what might be so funny for Ginny to say to make you laugh so much. Just the sound of you giggling across the common room is causing his heart to skip. He should be the one making the jokes. He should be the one to see how beautifully you grin, how the bottoms of your eyes water once your laughter turns into wheezes of breath.

Dean appears into the Irish boy's vision, and he has to force himself to look up at his tall friend.

"Damn. Why the long face Seamus?" Dean asks with a soft frown.

The said boy only huffs in response, and shakes his head to return his focus to the dancing flames.

"Oh I know what it is..." Dean nods as if he's just said something genius and situates himself between his friends. "It's the O.W.Ls isn't it?"

"That's what I said!" Neville chirps. "Come on Seamus I'm sure you'll be fine. For now, let's just celebrate our Quidditch win."

"Yeah mate, you don't have to look so—" Dean goes to tap his friends shoulder and is instead rewarded with a glare.

"I'm fine, alright?! Nothin's going on. Not the stupid O.W.Ls or class or anythin'. It's nothin'."

The voice he hears next has his stomach in a twist and the tips of his ears turning red.

"What's nothing?" You come out of nowhere, face just inches away from his. You giggle when you see Seamus flinch at your sudden appearance.

He wants so badly to steal you away. Like you used to do when you were in your early teen years. You both loved to just run together, to be outside and be loud. He so badly wants to just take your hand and run off somewhere, away from everyone, away from Ginny.

He'd initially been able to tolerate the youngest Weasley hanging out with you when you had began to talk to each other more often in your third year. He was ecstatic to see that you were getting along with more girls in Gryffindor, but then it got to the point where he began to feel neglected. Where he felt he was second best. Where, when he'd invite you to hang out, you'd tell him that Ginny had already asked you.

"Nothin's nothin'," he answers, standing up with another huff. He runs a hand through his hair and when his eyes dart to yours, your smile is gone and your eyes have softened.

"Is... everything alright?" you ask. Gosh, why is it that anything you say or do now gets his stomach feeling funny?

"I... I said I'm fine," he glances around at his friends, all of them look concerned. Even Ginny who's standing beside you has her brows pulled together.

He looks to you last, eyes lingering on yours for longer than a few seconds. And you look so worried, and he hates it when you're sad. But then he sees Ginny's arm thread through yours and so he combs his hair with his fingers again, voice dropping in volume. "I think I'm just gonna call it a day. Night guys."

Dean, Neville and Ginny chorus in 'goodnights'. You, on the other hand, freeze in place until he begins to walk in the direction of the stairs to the dorms.

You catch the sleeve of his robe and thankfully he doesn't pull away immediately, despite how agitated he looked just seconds before.

"Let's talk about it tomorrow okay? Just us two." You utter. And when he doesn't say anything, you continue gently. "Sleep well, stinky."

With pursed lips, he smiles. "You too, spud."

You watch him walk away, his robe slipping out of your fingers. You stay there staring, until the last bit of his clothes disappears behind the wall of the stairs.

"What was that all about?" Dean asks beside you. "I don't think he's ever been this stressed for a test."

"I don't think that's the reason," Ginny squeezes your arm. She gives you a knowing sort of look, only you have no idea what she's trying to insinuate through her eyes. "Come on, you said you'll chat to him tomorrow, I think it's best we all get to bed. I'm sure he's fine."

"You don't think I said something to him? Have I said anything to him to make him so mad?" You murmur to her. "Oh no, what have I done Ginny?"

"Hey, hey, hey. Shut your mouth right now," her brows pull together when you pout. "You know he's not gonna stay mad at you for long. He never does. You know that."

"But, what if I actually did do something wrong and he... and I haven't even said sorry and he..." An ocean of worst case scenarios flood your brain and you're not sure if you want to talk to him tomorrow, fearing that what he might say will break your heart. Fearing that you'll lose him forever.

Ginny rolls her eyes gently, and pulls on your arm to lead you to the dorms, away from the ears of your nosey classmates and peers. "He doesn't hate you. And he won't hate you. Ever. I just know it, so please stop worrying. Please stop thinking so much... hey, I can see you thinking. Stop."

She taps your head, the place between your eyebrows and it's as if she's just pressed a restart button.

You spring back into action, back straight, eyes less droopy, no more pout.

"There." Ginny says, letting go of your arm as she turns to her dorm room.

You send her a weak smile, and she returns with her own, a more motherly sort of grin.

"It'll be okay, you and him are gonna be just fine tomorrow. Plus, he still called you 'spud'."

"You're... you're right!"

"I'm always right," she makes a show of blowing you a kiss and then opens the door, closing it in front of her until you can only see her face between the wall and the edge of the door. "Goodnight!"

You catch her 'kiss' and hold it to your heart with a theatrical sigh. "Goodnight, genius. Enjoy dreaming about Harry."

»»————-　⌁　————-««

That night Seamus had only one thing on his mind. Dean pressed on to try and get an answer out of the Irish boy as to why he's been acting so strange lately. When there was no notable answer, the taller boy gave up and rolled over to sleep. Seamus, would eventually surrender to his pillow, however then wake up an hour or so later. Such a pattern presented itself that night as he thought meticulously about what sort of answer he'd give you tomorrow, he thought about whether he should lie or tell the truth.

He could tell you the truth, the whole truth; then there's the risk that you won't accept him. That you'll grow even further away from him. That all these years of being inseparable, all these years of being comfortable with one another could fall down the drain in a few words.

And then he could lie. But you don't deserve to be lied to. He hates lying, especially to you.

Seamus is simply in too deep. He thought that this pathetic jealousy over Ginny, a girl a year younger than him, would simmer down over time. It's only grown since. And he hates the way he hates how well you and her get along. He hates how much he envies the smiles you give her, the laughs, the time with her even.

He hates it all because Ginny doesn't deserve any of it. He hates it all because he sees how genuinely happy and excited you are to see her everyday, and you don't deserve to lose a beautiful friend like her, just because he's absolutely fallen head over heels for you.

He has to tell you the truth. Even if you'll never talk to him again, even if his heart breaks into a million pieces, he's going to tell you everything.

Someone's shakes him awake and he groans, rubbing at his eyes and yawning hard. When Seamus' vision finally adjusts to the new morning light, he finds Neville in front of him already in his uniform, smiling down at him.

"Morning, Seamus."

"Hey Neville."

It's a routine. Neville being the morning-person of the friend group, it was decided since their second year that he would be the other boys' alarm clock, so that they could go to breakfast together. If only he'd be able to wake you too, so you could tag along.

As Neville wakes the rest of the group, Seamus is quick to get himself ready for the day. Despite his restless night, his eyes don't look very sullen, he actually looks alright. So he smiles at the mirror, and slips on his rings, those ones that you love. Ever since you complimented them in his second year, a day didn't go by where he didn't wear them.

Dean, Neville and Seamus all make it to the Great Hall and situate themselves by Harry, Ron and Hermione. Even Ginny's already there.

Seamus cranes his neck, but he doesn't see you anywhere. Like a magnet his gaze is pulled toward the Weasley girl and she waves her hand, motioning for him to come to her side.

As the rest of his mates tuck in, he carefully makes it to Ginny and sits on the opposite side of the table.

"Hi," he says.

"Hi."

"Is there... somethin' wrong?"

"Yeah." She simply says and lowers her voice as she leans in closer to his direction. "I know what you're so upset about. And there's no shame in admitting it."

"What are you talkin' about?"

To mask the intentions of their conversation, Ginny picks up a hash-brown and starts to chomp on it. "You know what I'm talking about. There's a reason why I didn't wake up Y/N this morning. I wanted to talk with you alone before she gets to."

"Stop bein' so vague, Ginny. Just tell me what's goin' on." He tries hard to keep his voice calm but firm, remembering that she is also your most beloved friend and he shouldn't be so envious over her. "I'll stop walkin' on eggshells if you promise to too."

"Agreed." She swallows the last bit of her hash-brown and turns to him. "You need to tell Y/N that you like her more than a friend."

Taken aback by her bluntness he coughs into a closed fist and fills his goblet with some juice. "Right. Well. Straight to the point. I was gonna tell her anyway."

"You were?"

"After I sort of yelled at everyone last night, I did a lot of thinkin'."

"That never ends well."

He sends her daggers and she grins back. "I was thinkin' that she deserves to know the truth of what's happenin'. I'm tired of... holding it in."

He wasn't going to admit to her that he's completely tired of being envious over her. Besides, she probably already knows that. With that grin on her face, she definitely knows.

"Good then. I'm glad," she says with a nod. "And for the record sorry not sorry for stealing her away from you."

He wants to glare at her again, but instead he chuckles with a shake of his head. "I can understand wantin' to steal her away. She's... she's brilliant."

"Don't tell me that. Tell her that." With a flick of her chin, Seamus' attention is turned to the entrance of the Hall and he sees your form sauntering in.

Maybe it's because he's going to tell you the truth today, maybe it's because the sun rays pooling through the windows are illuminating your figure like an angel who's just come down from heaven, but you look more beautiful than ever. And when you find his eyes and smile, that toothy giddy sort of smile, Seamus almost stumbles out of his seat to stand.

"Mornin' spud," he runs his fingers through his hair.

"Hi stinky. Did you sleep okay? Are you... feeling a little better?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just uh... are you good to talk now or do you want to eat first?"

"Oh, well we can..." You find Ginny waving at you from behind the Irish Boy and then she sends you a thumbs up and a nod. "We can talk now."

"Great, um..." He looks around the room, especially at the Gryffindor table and a few people turn away their gazes when he sees them watching you speak.

Witnessing you both converse so seriously wasn't a regular sight to your peers. You'd instead always be joking around, filling the Hall with noise and trying to stop Seamus from practicing his charms at the table. So, it's no surprise that they're all staring now, eager to dig up new gossip.

"You wanna go somewhere more private?" You murmur, as you step closer to him.

Feeling heat begin to burn on the back of his neck, he tells you 'yes', and without warning takes your hand and sprints out of the room. The last thing he wanted was people seeing him blush.

You yelp at the sudden action, none the less following him, not before glancing at the youngest Weasley, who's looking at you with a smirk.

Seamus takes you through the halls, and soon you realise that you've been here before. You've held his hand and ran in this way together before.

A few students gasp, stepping out when you almost collide. Each time it happens you share a laugh with him, and before you even get to your destination you're completely out of breath, small beads of sweat sticking loose strands of your hair to your forehead.

You're at the flying lesson grounds. Your favourite place when you were younger students, the best place to play tag, complain about the pettiest problems and the best place to just run around until you both can't feel your lungs.

Your feet slow once they touch grass and then to your disappointment Seamus removes his hand from your wrist and falls to the ground in a sigh. His chest moves up and down with each catch of breath.

In no time you've joined him, letting your knees buckle and landing right beside him. Fixing your messy hair, you speak with a breathless voice. "We have to do that more often. I don't know why we stopped."

"Because of Ginny."

Seamus is met with silence. And your eyes. And your pupils are asking him, 'what?' 'Why?' 'How?' 'Why?' 'Why?' 'Why?'

A small bump appears by the edge of his jaw, and then he's sitting up, so you quickly do the same. He looks ashamed; head ducked, corners of his lips turned downward, fingers fiddling with his rings.

Goodness, now that you are looking at him, now that you are actually here and ready to listen to his every word causes his heart to race. Is he really going to go through with this? The possibility that in a few minutes you're never going to want to see him again looms in his mind and when he opens his mouth, nothing comes out.

"Seamus." Firmly, you say. "Is this what you wanted to talk about? Ginny?"

"No." He finally turns to you, and the moment your eyebrow raises the tiniest bit he folds. "And yes. There's... a whole bunch of things I want to say. Ginny is one of 'em."

He expects you to respond, only silence ensues. Your gaze is stern, yet there's a hint of concern as your bottom lip is pulled between your teeth, gently nibbling.

This is it. He sighs a big sigh, and shifts in his seating position till his knee taps against yours. To his relief you don't move away, you're simply completely ready to listen.

"Okay. Firstly... this is the most stupidest thing ever. To admit out loud, you're gonna think I'm an absolute sod, but you deserve to hear it. Basically... gosh. Ever since you and Ginny have been getting closer and closer, I've been spendin' less time with you and..." He clutches onto one ring and squeezes, as if it would squeeze out all his nerves. "And to sum it up, I'm... well I'm jealous. Of her. Takin' you away from me."

Your face is unchanged, still concerned, but still solid and stern. Your eyes move from watching as his hands fiddle in his lap to his face.

"And it kinda, like, pisses me off a little how much she makes you laugh." He turns till you can only see the back of his head, and the gentle dust of pink over the apple of his cheek. "I used to be fine with it. I really did, I was happy that you made such a good friend, especially a girl after hangin' out with just us boys. But then, I just couldn't stay happy. Every time I'd see her... like take your arm or whisper something in your ear or told you a joke that only you could understand I felt... I felt like, y'know, like 'I should be the one doin' that', 'only I can make her laugh that much'. And all that stuff."

He huffs, and manages to move his attention back to his hands, so you can see how much he chews the inside of his cheek, you can see how much he's thinking but how hard it is to let it all out. So, you nudge his knee with yours to continue. To let him know that you're still listening and that he's okay.

"Last night everything came together and I've figured out why I'm so mad with Ginny. You... you can probably guess what it is. But—." With a hand combing through his hair, he takes all the Gryffindor bravery in him to meet your gaze. "I... I really like you, spud."

And all you can feel in the thump thump thump of your heart hammering through your veins.

"Now, I-I-I know that it's out of the blue, it might be weird to hear — I don't know — I don't expect an answer from you. You can hate me. You can never speak to me again, if you want, but I can't keep these feelings from you anymore."

You've never heard him speak so seriously before. So earnestly. So vulnerably. The way his eyes fall on you, you feel like screaming, like kicking your feet. You're relieved to be sitting down, because your legs feel like jelly under his gaze, under his words. Under his spell.

"I like you so much, Y/N. More than a friend."

There's so much you're experiencing internally. And like a cup that's been overfilled, you feel the trace of a line drawing from your eyes own to your chin. The way Seamus' expression softens at your reaction causes you to go overboard and suddenly you tackle him in a hug, burying your face right into his neck, just beneath his jawline. And you sob in between silly giggles as you feel his arms settle around you.

"S-Spud?"

Another round of sob-giggles ensue, as your grip only tightens. "I-I love you, you sod."

It's hard to decipher who's heart is pounding with your chests pressed to tightly together. It's practically all you both can hear other than his and your chuckles of relief.

You finally pull away from him, hands pressing into the grass on each side of his head, your knees straddling his hips.

There's no more words verbally exchanged, as his hands slowly come up to cup your jaw, a calloused thumb tenderly moving across the skin of your cheek bone to wipe a tear. When he sees you grin, he immediately reciprocates.

Those ocean eyes of his look to you with complete adoration. They're apologising to you for taking so long to confess, and they're telling you how much he loves you, with the way his eyelids slightly droop and the corners of his eyes crinkle with his smile. It's now do you realise how long and pretty his lashes are. With the help of his hands by your jaw and neck, you lean down to get a better look. You lean in till your noses touch, and then you twist your head and you're so close to him that your lips collide.

His fingers squeeze into your skin, desperate to feel more of you here. At first you're both hesitant, slow with just light touches, getting comfortable with each other's movements. Then to test boundaries, your mouths open a little wider, and he presses against you harder. So much so, you both forget how to breath.

"You taste like orange juice," you whisper.

The rumble of his chuckle reverberates against your body. "And you're just beautiful. I-I can't believe it."

"I know. How is this happening right now?"

"I suppose Ginny is the one to thank. Though I hate to admit."

You laugh, as you help each other to sit up before anyone happens to see you in your compromising position. You take his hand and begin to stand up, pulling him to your side. "Then guess what we're gonna do now?"

"Um... what?" He doesn't like the look of your smirk.

"We're gonna go back to the Hall and you're gonna tell Ginny thank you. And sorry."

"Oh, no, no, no."

You're already dragging him.

"No, no. I've used up all my bravery today, I can't face her now— she's just gonna rub it in!"

"Do you want to kiss me again?"

"Absolutely."

"Then you have to do what I say."

Good Godric, you're the only one he'll listen to, the only one he'll let to boss him around. The only one that can make him melt. Allowing you to pull him back through the grounds of the school, he feels a new sense of heat rise to his chest and neck. You're no longer friends. But you are his. And he is yours.

It's all thanks to a girl with red-hair, and for him being green-eyed.

[bridenore]

HD longer fics recs : 125k to 150k words

Here are a few recs for fics ranging between 125k and 150k words. 

You can see my recs for fics that have more than 200k here and between 150k and 200k here.

All Our Secrets Laid Bare by @firethesound [149k]

Over the six years Draco Malfoy has been an Auror, four of his partners have turned up dead. Harry Potter is assigned as his newest partner to investigate just what is going on.

Any Instrument by @dictacontrion [131k]

Draco Malfoy wouldn’t go back to England for anything less than an exceptional case. Being asked to figure out why Harry Potter can’t control his magic might be exceptional enough to qualify.

By the Grace by @letteredlettered [139k]

Harry is an Auror instructor. Malfoy wants to be an Auror.

Dwelling on Dreams by @the-sinking-ship [135k]

Draco thought he could avoid Potter for the duration of his brief return to England. He’d stick to his schedule and be back home in Paris, where he belonged, in a few short months. No trouble at all. He had plenty to occupy him, what with the opening of the London branch of his successful apothecary, his innovative research, drinks with Pansy, a backlog of unread potions periodicals.

Except Head Auror Potter is everywhere — in Draco’s chair, at his door, in his dreams. All six feet of motorbike-riding, combat-boot-wearing, sex-hair-sporting Saviour of the World packed into one unfairly fetching uniform. Potter won’t leave Draco the bloody hell alone, won’t let him breathe, let him forget, let him sleep.

Because no matter how fast Draco Malfoy runs, Harry Potter is always hot on his heels.

Eight Days A Week by @romaine2424 [121k]

This is foremost a love story and second it’s about those growing up years. Becoming adults with adult lives and adult decisions.

Yes, Harry’s a Trainee-Auror and Draco’s a Healer-in-Training after the war. Yes, Harry eventually moves into 12 Grimmauld Place. And, yes, attraction happens between Harry and Draco and they fall in love, but then there’s more. Draco is now free from Voldemort, free from fear of going to Azkaban, free from his Father’s beliefs, and free to be the person, the witch, the woman she always felt she should be. And for Harry, it’s time to lose the shackles of his childhood and discover who he really is and what’s truly important in life. This story begins one year or so after the Battle at Hogwarts and follows their relationship faithfully for two years. The final chapter will take place later in their lives.

This is a positive transition story without body dysphoria, but will contain moments where prejudice and slights arise. This story is categorized as M/F.

25 Holiday Scenes for Eight Days a Week by @romaine2424 [16k]

Eight Days a Week continues with 25 Holiday Scenes. As of now, they are all family oriented. If that changes, I’ll update the ratings! We begin where we left off in the Main Story (before the epilogue), which is a few weeks after Libby’s surgery. They were married in the summer, and Prim, their daughter was born in September.

Every New Beginning by @fencer-x​ [140k]

“You curl your lip and wrinkle your nose and sneer and call me Saviour, yet you only seek my help at the eleventh hour. That’s what’s fucked up, Malfoy.” || Draco Malfoy is dead, and Harry is absolutely totally fine with that.

Graceless Heart by shushu_yaoi_lj [132k]

Harry is lost and broken after the war. He has gone to countless funerals, broken up with Ginny, moved back into Grimmauld Place—which feels darker and dirtier than ever before despite how much he tries to fix it. He feels lonely and desperate, but he won’t ask for help, and he still can’t cry.

When he agreed to help the Aurors at Malfoy Manor over the summer, he thought that he would be breaking dark curses. Harry never thought that he would actually spend his days sorting out dusty books with Draco Malfoy, or teaching him how to cook.

Little by little, as they begin to navigate their life post-war, Harry and Draco become intimate…in more ways than Harry could have ever expected.

A Sword Laid Aside by @korlaena [128k]

When Draco’s cover is blown during a deep undercover operation and the Ministry is compromised, Ron takes Draco to the only safe place he can think of—Harry. Hiding out with Harry Potter, who has been missing from the Wizarding World for almost two decades after a shocking fall from grace, is nothing like Draco thought it would be.

Taking Chances by @gracerene09​  [135k]

After the war, Draco disappeared and started over in America, vowing never to return to Great Britain and the fraught past he left behind. Unfortunately, when his mates convince him to sign up for an exchange programme for the last year of their Auror Training, Draco learns that he doesn’t have much of a choice in the matter.

That Which Divides Us by oldenuf2nb / @dianacopland [126k]

Three years after what would have been their seventh year at Hogwarts, the war between the forces of light and Voldemort’s minions grinds on. But even within the ranks of the Order of the Phoenix there are vast disagreements over what is good for ‘the Chosen One’ and his volatile relationship with Draco Malfoy has many on edge. Sometimes even the best intentions can reap disaster.

This Ain’t the Garden of Eden by @romaine2424  [131k]

In 2020, Hit Wizard Harry is starting to enjoy his life. He’s divorced, and no longer Head Auror. His biggest project these days is trying to remodel 12 Grimmauld Place for him and the kids.

Draco Malfoy is recovering from his wife’s death. But is happy with his Ministry position as Temporary Head of the Department of Intoxicating Substances, and with his son who he adores.

This all changes quickly when Minister Shacklebolt decides not to run for another term. The assumption is that ‘all is well’ in the British Magical world, and that Hermione Granger-Weasley will easily be voted in as the next Minister for Magic. However, Draco knows better. He knows she has a strong competitor who is wooing those who live in Knockturn. And if he wins, the Ministry, and all that has been accomplished the previous twenty odd years, will be destroyed.

To have a Home by Aulophobia [126k]

Not quite a decade after the war, Draco Malfoy was happy with his quiet little Muggle life in Oxford. He had a small group of friends from the university he’d attended, and colleagues from the law firm where he worked as a solicitor. He played folk music on his violin around the city. And he volunteered to provide legal services getting mostly idiot teenagers out of trouble with the law. His life was full. He had no contact with the magical world, and all was the way he liked it. And the feeling of emptiness in his chest, the feeling some part of him was missing, was at least better than the alternative. Or at least it was until the last few months when he kept getting called down to the police station to get Harry Potter out of trouble. Indecent exposure and possession was one thing, but the latest charge was for murder. OR Harry and Draco find each other again after the war in Oxford, a completely non-magical city. Together they solve the mystery of the city which hates all wizards but them.

What We Pretend We Can’t See by gyzym [131k]

Seven years out from the war, Harry learns the hard truth of old history: it’s never quite as far behind you as you thought.

where all the veins meet by eight_of_wands [146k]

It's the summer of 1998. The battle is over, and Voldemort is dead, but Harry still has more questions than answers. Who is he without a piece of Voldemort's soul in his head? What is he supposed to do now?

His friends try to help, but the only thing that can hold his attention—one of the only things that ever has—is Draco Malfoy, out on parole and weirdly hanging around the British Museum.

As they keep running into each other, Harry sees that Malfoy is different, and he wonders if he can be someone else, too.

Featuring rumpled band shirts, poker games everyone hates, fumbling sex, and a Harry going a little mental over how wands even work.

I hope you enjoy these stories as much as I did!