#for the most part ron for example looks ridiculous

[elisedonut]

Do you guy's want to see Pixel Perciver?

Im playing the GBA HP games again

this time the COS one and look they're actually kinda cute this time <3 In comparison to how the last one i showed for Percy looked at least lol

Also unrelated but look at this window?? i think it's pretty

[amillionideas]

Fred and George - Parte II

I swear I don't hate them, even if it might seem like I do. I just don't adore them and love to explore their faults and their space for growth.

When you strip away the humor and the playful tone the books use, Fred and George’s behavior towards their siblings (particularly Percy and Ron) can easily be seen as bullying. The narrative frames their pranks as harmless fun, but if you take a closer, more critical look, it’s clear that their actions often cross serious lines. What makes it even more striking is how no one really holds them accountable. The adults laugh it off, and their siblings, despite being hurt, rarely push back in a meaningful way. It’s a fascinating (and frankly, disturbing) dynamic when you unpack it.

Fred and George’s Treatment of Percy

Their bullying of Percy goes beyond teasing—it’s a sustained pattern of mockery that actively undermines his self-worth and autonomy. Percy is desperate for validation, both from his family and the outside world, and instead of supporting him, Fred and George treat him like a joke.

• Why target Percy? Percy represents everything Fred and George reject: authority, ambition, and a need to follow rules. They see him as pompous and uptight, and rather than recognizing that his perfectionism is likely a coping mechanism in a loud, chaotic family, they zero in on his insecurities.

• Examples of their mistreatment:

Constantly mocking his prefect status and ambition. Imagine working hard for recognition and having your brothers belittle every achievement. Enchanting his prefect badge to say "Big Head Boy" wasn’t just teasing, it was humiliation. They turned a private, meaningful connection into a laughingstock.

Dismissing his concerns or opinions. Even when Percy raises valid points, they treat him as though he’s being dramatic or ridiculous. This strips him of any authority within the family.

At some point in his fifth or sixth year, Percy began dating Penelope Clearwater, a Ravenclaw prefect, but he kept it a secret from his family, most likely to prevent the twins from mercilessly teasing him (I even took this paragrah from Wiki, so I am not the only one that sees it!)

And the most painful part? When Percy does leave the family, no one, especially not Fred and George, examines how their treatment contributed to that distance. They view his departure as betrayal without acknowledging the years they spent pushing him out. In a way, their pranks are part of why Percy feels like he doesn’t belong.

Fred and George’s Treatment of Ron – Bullying Masquerading as "Toughening Him Up"

Ron, being the youngest brother, gets his own version of their bullying. It’s like they view him as the family punching bag, someone to be toughened up through mockery and pranks.

• Why target Ron? Ron embodies all the insecurities Fred and George don’t want to face themselves, feelings of being overshadowed, overlooked, and underestimated. Maybe teasing him is their way of pushing down those same anxieties, but that doesn’t make it fair to Ron.

• Examples of their mistreatment:

Turning Ron’s teddy bear into a spider after discovering his arachnophobia is downright cruel. This isn’t harmless teasing; it’s using someone’s deep fear against them, and it sticks with Ron into adulthood.

Mocking his achievements: Whenever Ron gets a taste of success, whether it’s becoming a prefect or playing Quidditch, they either downplay it or joke that it must have been a mistake. Imagine how demoralizing that is when you already feel like you’re living in everyone’s shadow.

Physical pranks: they never seem to consider Ron’s physical safety or emotional well-being. Giving him an acid pop that burns a hole through his tongue? Testing joke products on him? That’s not just sibling banter, it’s a violation of his autonomy and dignity.

And the worst part? Ron never gets to express his anger fully. Every time he tries, it’s brushed off as him being "sensitive" or "whiny." This leaves him trapped, hurt by their cruelty but denied the right to defend himself.

Why Does Everyone Let Them Get Away With It?

A big part of what makes Fred and George’s behavior so troubling is the lack of consequences. The adults (particularly Molly and Arthur) fail to intervene in any meaningful way.

Molly’s Favoritism: Despite Fred and George’s constant rule-breaking and bullying, Molly adores them. She brushes off their behavior as "boys being boys," while being far harsher on Percy and Ron for smaller transgressions. Her failure to hold them accountable not only enables their behavior but also deepens the wounds they inflict on their siblings.

Arthur’s Passivity: Arthur Weasley is kind and gentle but largely absent when it comes to disciplining the twins. His light-hearted approach reinforces the message that Fred and George’s pranks are harmless, even when they clearly aren’t.

The Family Dynamic: Fred and George occupy the "funny, lovable pranksters" role, and no one wants to disrupt that image. Acknowledging the harm they cause would mean dismantling a central part of the Weasley family identity.

The Emotional Toll on Percy and Ron

Being the targets of sustained mockery has long-term emotional consequences.

• For Percy: The constant belittling pushes him further toward the Ministry and away from his family. He’s not just seeking career success, he’s looking for a place where he’ll be respected. When your family treats you like a joke, finding an external source of validation becomes a survival instinct.

• For Ron: Fred and George’s treatment exacerbates Ron’s lifelong insecurity. He already feels overshadowed by his brothers and overlooked in his own right, being their favorite punching bag only compounds that pain. It’s no wonder he lashes out at times or struggles with self-esteem. He’s spent his whole life being told, implicitly or explicitly, that he’s not enough.

Why Are They Like This?

It’s easy to paint Fred and George as simple bullies, but their behavior also hints at some unspoken insecurity and fear.

• Fear of Being Unimportant: As the middle children, they occupy an awkward position, neither the trailblazing oldest nor the cherished youngest. Their humor becomes a survival strategy to ensure they aren’t forgotten.

• Rebellion Against Authority: Their rejection of Percy’s rule-following may stem from their own rebellion against feeling controlled by their parents or the expectations of the Weasley name.

• Emotional Avoidance: By turning everything into a joke, they avoid facing deeper, more uncomfortable emotions. Bullying Percy and Ron allows them to project their insecurities outward rather than confronting their own vulnerabilities.

What Could Have Changed?

If the adults had intervened, if Molly or Arthur had genuinely held Fred and George accountable, the entire family dynamic might have shifted. What Percy and Ron needed wasn’t just protection from the twins, but validation that their feelings and experiences mattered.

And maybe, just maybe, if Fred and George had been forced to face the harm they caused, they might have found healthier ways to assert their identity without tearing others down.

In the end, the Weasley family’s warmth is real, but their failures are, too. And when we acknowledge the pain beneath the laughter, the story becomes even more powerful

[kit-kat-reader]

let's talk about the twins (and greater weasley family) in harry potter.

Like most Ron defenders, I am not exactly the most fond person of the twins. I consider their treatment of Ron oftentimes rude, and they aren't exactly nice people.

But I wanted to bring to the table a bit more about the twins.

Here's the deal. I don't have a problem with the twins as people, I don't actually think they're horrible or that they are fundamentally bad. I do think that the humans who make real mistakes. I think it's important to remember that the twins are incredibly young the last time we see their characterisation. Fred and George are only 19 at the beginning of the seventh book, and Fred is only about 20 when he dies. I think it's pretty fair to not be a fantastic person during your teenagers because a lot of people are not very nice during their teenage years.

To compare them to the Marauders, who similarly often engage pranks that are often hurtful to people, but I do believe that George would mature over the next 19 years, and hopefully even apologise to Ron for being a fundamental part of his insecurities like how the mauraders matured during their sixth year and grew up essentially. So my problem isn't with them as people.

It's with the way the narrative treats them. The my usage of word narrative is twofold. For one, it means the actual narrative of the story, and it also refers to how Harry sees the twins. In both cases, the narrative often fails to call out the twins on their mistakes and their mistreatment of various people. In essence, because Harry sees the twins in a positive light, we, as readers are given an narrative that showcases the twins in a positive light. But upon further inspection in a similar way that Neville's relative's mistreatment of him was regarded by the readers as wrong in spite of the fact that the narrative did not tell us that, many readers have chosen to see the twins in a negative light.

And thinking about this we can also talk a lot about the weasley family. Let's talk about Harry sees the weasley family. When looking at a text, tumblr itself has taught me to neither accept all readings nor say there is one true reading. Rather, we acknowledge there is a reason teachers ask us to cite our evidence in the text, explained with the example (slightly changed to fit my point better), "if the text says the curtain is blue, we can talk about what shade it is, but if you want to convince me that the curtain is actually yellow, then you better have a damn good argument."

If we want to extend this metaphor, because of the fact that the series is actually largely focused on Voldemort and that plot, despite the Weasley being pretty important characters, we don't actually know that much about them. Only so much is relevant to the plot and Harry has better things to worry about. In short, Harry may tell us the curtain of the Weasley family is blue, but it is up to interpretation what shade of blue it is.

One reading is that the Weasley family is incredibly dysfunctional. Evidence? A lot. To keep it quick, the way Percy is often ridiculed for having ambition, which is not a bad thing, or how Ron is constantly treated as the least favourite (and the way the twins treat him), how Ginny is shown to be placed in stereotypically feminine roles, or how you could easily the twins behaviour as a desperate for attention given that they may feel that their grades won't compare to Percys.

An equally reading is that the Weasley are incredibly supportive of one another. Like how, despite being separated from the rest of his family, Percy showed support for Ron and him getting prefect. Or how despite forgetting, he didn't like corn beef in first year, Molly proceeded to remember in third year, showing it may have been a genuine accident. Pretty much all of Ron and Ginny's relationship doesn't seem that bad to me, as an only child I don't think I'm in a position to judge it.

Personally, I think they're in some kind of middle ground. They definitely aren't the perfect family that Harry's inner thinking sometimes makes them out to be, but I do think they have genuine support and love for one another, and despite being somewhat dysfunctional they care for each other, and when it matters most they are there for each other.

[thegirlwhowrites642]

Some people says hinny in cos was similar to Orpheus or some even compare them to spiderman. What are other literally significance we can see in whole hinny love story?

Please share your thoughts

Harry and Ginny: three famous love stories before theirs

I still hold the ridiculous hope that one day I'll be able to write a deep full analysis of Harry and Ginny's soulmate dynamic and callbacks to other popular love stories are a part of that analysis. But because you asked so nicely, I want to discuss a bit the two examples you brought up and I'll tell you about another that is one of my favourites.

Orpheus and Eurydice (Greek mythology)

The whole matter of the Chamber of Secrets parallels Orpheus and Eurydice's story, Harry is Orpheus and Ginny is Eurydice.

It is assumed or strongly suspected that Ginny is dead, and Harry goes after her anyway and finds her in a state between life and death. Eurydice dies but Orpheus still pines and searches for his wife, and the existence of the possibility of bringing her back substantially puts her in a position between life and death.

Harry through parseltongue, a particular talent of his, is able to access the Chamber (which is underground). Orpheus through music, a particular talent of his, is able to access the underworld.

Through their journey, both Harry and Orpheus are obliged to leave behind their companions.

Lockhart in the journey loses his memory, a reference to the Lethe in the underworld, the river of forgetfulness.

Art is an important element to remain alive and get out: Fawkes's song (and tears) for Harry, his music for Orpheus.

There's also the element of not looking in order to succeed in saving the girl, Harry can't look into the basilisk's eyes, and Orpheus can't look back at Eurydice.

Tom is an evil version of Hades. Ginny is also both a representation of Eurydice and, in a way, Hades's wife, Persephone.

The obvious difference is that Harry actually saves Ginny.

Peter and MJ, The Amazing Spider-Man (1963 - ongoing)

If we talk about the cinematic versions of Peter and MJ we find a parallel with Harry and Ginny in the break-up scene.

At the end of the first movie of Spider-Man starring Tobey Maguire, Peter refuses MJ, recreating the classic scene of the hero lying to the love of their life about their feelings in order to keep them safe. To protect them they push them away. And the scene happens at a funeral. Now, Harry does break up with Ginny at a funeral for very similar reasons. But the very important contrast is that Harry is extremely honest with Ginny, he doesn't lie about his feelings for her. It's a reference and yet a subversion of the trope (a thing JKR often does with them -> The meaning of Ginny's name).

But let's talk about comicbooks Peter and MJ.

MJ is a character that is talked about in the first issues of The Amazing Spider-Man comics as the "nice girl" who is the niece of the neighbour (a friend of Aunt May). Aunt May keeps trying to set Peter and MJ up but the fact that MJ keeps being described as a "nice girl" makes Peter believe she'll turn out to be ugly, so he avoids meeting her. In issue #25 she appears for the first time but is hidden behind a plant. It's only in issue #42 (November 1966) that we really meet her for the first time. She appears in Peter's doorway making arguably the most iconic entrance in the history of storytelling:

And so it is, that Peter discoveres how MJ is actually a fun, brilliant, extremely good-looking redhead.

Does this remind you of the appearance of anyone else in another doorway?

The door opened and a long mane of red hair appeared. “Oh hello, Harry!” said Ron’s younger sister, Ginny, brightly. “I thought I heard your voice.” -Chapter 4, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, JK Rowling

Until this point of the story, Ginny has been Ron's shy younger sister. We keep being reminded of her, she is constantly associated with Harry's love life, we know that she is supposed to be in a way that we are not allowed to see, we see her but not clearly, like she is hidden, and then she makes this outstanding appearance. She is confident, speaks directly to Harry and makes a funny clever joke about Harry shouting like a maniac. She grabs all the attention and defeats any negative expectations. OotP is in many ways Ginny's debut.

Personally, I think this is the most interesting parallel, but there are some others that I think are worthy of being mentioned.

MJ is in competition with another love interest, Gwen, but she always ends up being the winner, in the sense that she always comes off as the more charming, brilliant, show-stopping one. The one Peter always ends up having more chemistry with (fan fact: this happened in spite of the original plan of the writers).

In OotP, there's a subplot of constant confrontation between Ginny and Cho, and Ginny always ends up being the winner. Not only in absolute terms of her personality but specifically in terms of her ability to connect with Harry (this on the other hand was very much done on purpose).

A turning point in Peter and MJ's relationship is a harsh conversation where Peter is completely distraught over Gwen's death but MJ refuses to make him indulge in his self-pity:

While the subject at hand is different, it is a scene that holds similarities to the lucky you scene in Harry and Ginny's story. Harry is all rattled about the possibility of being possessed and he is throwing himself a bit of a (understandable) pity party. Ginny is the one that doesn't back down from the challenge of confronting Harry about it, regardless of how horrible that "I forgot" is, and she is there for him. That is a turning point in their relationship because Harry sees Ginny in her entirety for the first time.

'All been talking about me, have you? Well, I'm getting used to it.' 'We wanted to talk to you, Harry,' said Ginny, 'but as you've been hiding ever since we got back — ' 'I didn't want anyone to talk to me,' said Harry, who was feeling more and more nettled. 'Well, that was a bit stupid of you,' said Ginny angrily, 'seeing as you don't know anyone but me who's been possessed by You-Know-Who, and I can tell you how it feels.' Harry remained quite still as the impact of these words hit him. Then he wheeled round. 'I forgot,' he said. 'Lucky you,' said Ginny coolly. 'I'm sorry,' Harry said, and he meant it. 'So... so, do you think I'm being possessed, then?' 'Well, can you remember everything you've been doing?' Ginny asked. 'Are there big blank periods where you don't know what you've been up to?' -Chapter 23, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, JK Rowling

Another thing that MJ and Ginny have in common is a very clear identity and storyline that makes them independent from their love interests despite said love interests being the main characters. They also both acquire fame due to their jobs despite coming from a poor family and they both have traumatic pasts (even if for different reasons). They are also both the youngest in their family.

Peter and Harry are both obviously the main characters with special abilities and they are both orphans who lose a surrogate parental figure. Peter though, gets a much better childhood than Harry.

Laurie and Amy, Little Women (1868-69)

What if I told you that Harry and Ginny have a lot in common with a couple of characters from the work of Louisa May Alcott settled in the Massachusetts of the 19th century?

Laurie is a rich lonely orphan that meets a poor loving family with many children (the Marches). He gets really close to them, and he grows up with them. He is specifically best friends with one of those kids (Jo) with which he has a very tumultuous kind of dynamic and he ends up developing romantic feelings for her. Amy is the youngest of the March family and always seems to hold a soft spot for Laurie. Laurie even saves Amy's life at a certain point, partially helped by Jo. Despite a few years of age difference, Laurie and Amy always get along really well, and they even flirt frequently once they are a bit older. But between his feelings for Jo and his age difference with Amy, for years it's not possible for Laurie to develop proper romantic feelings for the youngest March.

The parallels with Harry and Ginny seem quite obvious. Harry is a rich orphan who befriends a poor loving family with many kids that treat him like one of their own. He is specifically best friends with one of the kids, Ron. Ginny is the youngest of the Weasley family and has feelings for Harry from the start. At one point in the story, Harry saves Ginny and for part of that rescue, he has Ron by his side. Once he grows up a bit, Harry develops feelings for a girl (Cho) with which he has a very short tumultuous relationship. It needs to be clarified though, that while Laurie's feelings for Jo are quite intense, Harry simply has a hallway crush on Cho. Regardless, there's a Jo in Harry's story and she is represented by a fusion of Ron and Cho. And, as it is for Laurie, it takes years for Harry to acquire full proper romantic feelings for Ginny, despite the fact that there was always a certain tenderness between them. What keeps Harry from developing proper romantic feelings for Ginny in this case is not really the age difference but the general lack of time spent together, due to Ginny's paralyzing romantic feelings mixed with Harry's complex life (even if not being in the same year at school doesn't help). Cho also serves as a distraction for a while.

But let's go back to Little Women and talk about when everything changed between Laurie and Amy. Laurie's marriage proposal to Jo gets rejected, which leads him into a spiral of despair and very debatable coping mechanisms that he puts into action all around Europe. But in his travels in Europe, he meets again Amy, now a grown woman, mature, beautiful and commanding, and with a man ready to propose to her. Laurie and Amy spend a lot of time together, they have fun, and they share common values and interests, but more importantly, Amy is the one able to shake Laurie out of his spiral of despair and self-pity. Laurie inevitably develops romantic feelings for Amy, but wonders about his moral integrity because Amy made it so easy for him to forget the hurt Jo caused him. Ultimately, Laurie puts his life together and realises that he was destined for Amy, that he would have eventually fallen for her anyway, that they are inevitable. Laurie and Amy marry and he officially becomes part of the March family.

Again, the parallels with Harry and Ginny are evident. It is when Harry is full of rage and sadness that he meets the real Ginny, a Ginny who has matured, has a boyfriend, is fun, shares interests and values with Harry, and seems the only one really able to shake him out of his misery. She affirms herself as a source of comfort and optimism in Harry's life and the more time they spend together the more Harry's feelings grow. Throughout the entirety of the proper explicit development of Harry's romantic feelings, Ginny is taken, let it be OotP or HBP, which doesn't help matters. And when Harry finally realises his feelings, like Laurie, he is faced with a moral dilemma: Ginny is Ron's younger sister. And while Ron is simply Harry's best friend, it is nonetheless a dilemma of loyalty, like it was for Laurie. Harry, in spite of his best efforts, eventually accepts that he can't escape Ginny or his feelings for her. He has no doubts about him and Ginny, he is confident about them as a couple, and he knows that it is what was always meant to happen:

'I just wish I’d asked you sooner. We could’ve had ages… months… years maybe…’ 'But you’ve been too busy saving the wizarding world,’ said Ginny, half-laughing. -Chapter 30, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, JK Rowling

Harry and Ginny eventually get married and Harry officially becomes part of the Weasley family.

Other analyses

It seemed to me that the question was oriented on stories that Harry and Ginny reference in their dynamic and so this was my answer. Other analyses of mine though that explore Harry and Ginny from a literary point of view and that you might find interesting are:

Harry and Ginny, two main characters

Harry is still looking at Ginny

Ginny and Voldemort's yew wands

The meaning of Ginny's name

Ginny destroying a Horcrux?

[moonlightdancer26]

Top 5 worst parts of the hp series?

This is pretty hard tbh. Not because it’s sooo good, but because I have many bones to pick with HP.

Aight, let’s get to work:

1. The treatment of House-elves.

I don’t even need to elaborate. It’s just horrible. They’re literally enslaved and abused, and not one character—not even any of the good guys—in the entire series aside from Hermione has a problem with it.

2. Rowling’s “feminist” bias, sexism, and treatment of feminine girls.

Examples:

Hermione attacking Ron and making him bleed because he kissed a girl being seen as okay and having no consequences. Ron getting pissed about Hermione and Krum (for like, one night) is portrayed as horrible and apparently he’s “such a jerk!!1!”

Lavender and Parvati—who are very feminine—being consistently mocked and belittled by Hermione, Fleur being mocked and excluded by Molly, Ginny, and Hermione because she was… pretty??? Literally what reason was there for them to talk shit about her behind her back. [Plus, when Harry (kinda?) defended Fleur and pointed out that she was chosen as a Triwizard champion, Hermione automatically assumes he’s merely lusting after her.]

Rowling’s constant sexism and transphobia when it comes to Snape’s character. This post perfectly sums it up.

Rowling making the main three female characters (Hermione, Ginny, and Luna) “unique” and “not like other girls.” Omg look! Hermione likes to read and isn’t girly!! She’s soo relatable right?? Omg look! Ginny is soooo badass and fiesty!! She plays Quidditch and has older brothers and she bullies Fleur merely because she’s girly. Do you guys like her yet?? Omg look! Luna is soo quirky and believes in weird mystical stuff (as if they didn’t go to a school for wizards), and is bullied and excluded for it. She’s sooo unique, right??

Every female villain (Bellatrix, Rita, Umbridge) in the series being childless. (I can make an entire separate post about this but I’ll just cut it short.)

The girls’ dorm being portrayed as needing a defense against rape but not the boys’ dorm.

[There are wayyyy more examples but I’m afraid I’ll write a million-word essay filled with hatred and a lot of screaming if I continue.😅]

To make things clear: I put the blame solely on Rowling, I don’t blame any of the girls (except maybe Ginny and Hermione), it’s Rowling’s stupid bias I’m pissed off at.

3. Date-rape drugs (love potions) being sold and used without any consequences.

Merope raped Tom Riddle Sr. by using a love potion on him and he was the one painted as the bad guy for “abandoning poor Merope.” She was a rapist and was painted sympathetically to (and even by) the readers.

Gred and Feorge (not a typo) sold love potions and faced no consequences.

4. Abuse never being taken seriously.

The abuse Harry, Snape, and Sirius faced from their families is never actually acknowledged and taken seriously. People’s treatment of House-elves—literal abuse—is never addressed.

5. How the Hogwarts Professors treat their students.

Filch and Umrbridge flat-out torture students, other professors ridicule, bully, and even sometimes endanger the lives of students (*looks at McGonagall and Hagrid*), and face no consequences for it. Like I get that it’s an old-fashioned Wizard school in the 90s but COME ON.

I have many more problems with the series (the stereotypes and the gender roles, the corruption, Dumbledore, no Wizarding therapy, the grooming and separation, the biases and prejudice, etc etc), but these are the ones I’m mentioning and the ones that bring out the most anger in me, especially the first three.

[chaztalk]

There’s an account on Instagram that used to be an anti Weasley bashing account but has recently become an anti Harmony account screen shotting headcanons/writing prompts from the HarmonyandCo tumblr page (which I’m not a part of), debunking the headcanons/prompts. This seem crazy and all, but we are in a fictional fandom where pretty much anything can happen. And all I can say to the account is, and it may not make much sense, but when someone is doing something like this, where they are making repetitive arguments about what they see as “non-existent”, the more they do that, the more they are arguing it into existence. They are making it relevant without really noticing it. How long has it been since the HBP book has been released, when it became apparent of who liked who? About 18 freaking years. Canon shippers still think shipping Harmony is bothersome.

And you may be wondering if I’m being hypocritical because I shit talk a lot about Romione and Hinny. And the main difference is that they are real. That’s what actually happened. And I can criticize on how they were written and developed. Most anti-harmony arguments are based on assumptions and a lack of an imagination. Some use canon evidence, sure, but in the grand scheme of things, it comes down personal preferences and favorite characters, and most people are super picky about it. Personally, I see myself as someone that can like characters and relationships with different dynamics. For example, I can admit that I’d have no problem with Ron/Hermione if it started gradually developing in OOTP and with Harry/Ginny starting to develop in GoF and not just make it seem Harry’s marrying because of her looks and that she’s a Weasley. But we didn’t get the either of that.

People can talk shit all they want about any pairing they hate/dislike. But when people that are canon shippers discuss how ridiculous non-canon pairings are, I feel embarrassed for them. They won, but instead of talking about how great those ships are, they decide to talk other ships they don’t agree with, especially when they are constantly talking about a “non-existent” ship.

[free-pool-trash]

x of swords - george weasley

part one of three

Summary: Growing up as Harry’s neighbor, you always believed that you were completely regular. In an attempt to feel closer to Harry (your best friend) you begin to dabble in the art of divination and, in the process, you uncover magic that you didn’t know you had. (i hate doing summaries this does not sum it up but you get the jist)

Relationships: George Weasley x Reader, platonic!Harry Potter x Reader, platonic!OC x Reader, platonic!Sirius Black x Reader, platonic!Remus Lupin x Reader, platonic!Fred Weasley x Reader, platonic!Nymphadora Tonks x Reader, platonic!Molly Weasley x Reader, platonic!Hermoine Granger x Reader, Sirius Black x Remus Lupin

Warnings: Swearing, anxiety, fluff, angst, mentions of torture, mentions of death (let me know if I missed anything!)

Word count: 22.9k 

so here it is 😏 i was going to wait until i was completely finished with this to post it but i didn’t wanna rush it and oh my god it’s already so long  😫 I’m moving to Edinburgh in 2 weeks so i won’t be able to write as i have so much to pack so i hope this keeps some of you happy for a while <3 obviously i put a lot of effort into this and spent a lot of time on it so i really hope yall like it and i will personally kiss everyone who comments. likes or reblogs <3

mastelist

Life on Privet Drive was definitely something- something being incredibly boring. Nothing even remotely exciting happened on the street and the company was, to put it simply, miserable.

You’d lived in 5 Privet Drive since birth which, unfortunately for you, meant that your family are extremely close with the Dursleys who live next door. The Dursleys are a family of bigoted, pig-headed bullies. Made up of Petunia, Vernon, Dudley and, in your opinion the only tolerable one, Harry.

From the age of five, Harry had been your only friend on the street and vice versa. Initially, the both of you had bonded over your dislike of Dudley but as the years rolled on Harry and yourself had become virtually inseparable.

It was certainly strange- how close your parents were with Petunia and Vernon. Your mother and father are actually quite lovely, they are the complete opposite of the Dursleys, they’re open minded, kind and extremely friendly. But, you supposed, their friendliness didn’t discriminate from person to person, even if said person forced their orphaned nephew to sleep in the cupboard underneath the stairs.

There was no denying that Harry had been miserable with the Dursleys, who were unfortunately his only remaining family and you supposed you should’ve been happy when your best friend finally got away from them after his 11th birthday.

You’d missed him for the entire school year and you only got a chance to ask where he’d actually gone off to when he’d arrived home for the summer. (You didn’t believe the story Vernon had spun about Harry attending a boarding school for juvenile trouble makers).

“It’s incredible, (Y/n), honestly! I wish you could be there too.” He’d told you when you finally saw him again, after he’d finished his first year in his mysterious boarding school.

“That’s great, Haz, but where exactly is it?” You wondered and Harry only gave you his signature grin.

“Scotland.”

With a heavy sigh you let the subject go, he was clearly happy wherever he was going to school so it didn’t matter where or what it was. As long as he was happy.

By the time his 12th birthday rolled around you’d found the perfect gift for him. You’d made your parents buy you a polaroid camera for him to take away to school, he’d told you so many amazing stories about his school, you wanted to see some of it for yourself so you figured a camera would be the best course of action.

The morning of his birthday, Harry was woken up by the sound of pebbles tapping against his barred up window. The boy looked out to see you waving at him, an excited smile on your face and a neatly wrapped present in your other hand. Harry couldn’t stop the smile that formed on his face as you beckoned him down with your hand. It was barely dawn but you knew better than to give a present for Harry to either his aunt or uncle because they’d only give it to Dudley, so it was best to get it to him before the rest of his supposed family woke up.

Hogwarts was amazing and Harry was over the moon to have discovered he was a wizard and make so many new friends, but he had missed you- his only friend in the muggle world. Your birthday was only a few weeks after his and he hoped that maybe you’d get a hogwarts letter of your own, obviously that hadn’t happened. Nonetheless he was happy to see you in the summer, he couldn’t shake the thought that Ron and Hermione would have loved to meet you though.

Slowly and quietly, Harry snook down the stairs and out the front door to meet you.

“Happy birthday, Haz!” You whisper-shouted excitedly, pulling the green-eyed boy into your house so he wouldn’t get caught outside when he wasn’t even allowed out of his bedroom.

Harry rolled his eyes at the nickname, “I hope you know that you’re still the only person who calls me that.”

“Good,” you said happily, closing the front door behind you. “Anyway, I got you something that you can bring away to school with you!” He rose an eyebrow at you as you pushed the carefully wrapped box into his hands, “Open it,” you instructed. And so he did.

It was very possibly the most expensive gift he’d ever gotten, you (or your parents) usually got Harry presents that couldn’t be stolen by Dudley. For example, your mother had taken to buying Harry his own clothes, seeing as your best friend was a lot taller and thinner than his horrid cousin.

You, on the other hand, would usually make him gifts with sentimental value, something Dudley had absolutely zero interest in. The camera though, you knew would be safe as Harry would be leaving for school again soon enough.

Harry stared dumbfounded at the cardboard box that held the rather large polaroid camera, judging by the image on the box it was a good quality thing, probably expensive. “This is… really nice, (Y/n).”

A bright smile found your lips as you rushed into an animated explanation about why you’d picked a camera as his birthday present this year.

“So you can take lots of pictures of you and your new friends in your new fancy private school and when you come back here you can show them to me!” Harry chuckled and nodded his head, hoping he’d be able to find time to take pictures like you wanted.

“I’ll take pictures of everything. Promise.” He told you, holding out his pinky with a cheeky grin. You linked your pinky with his and nodded gratefully.

“We should christen it,” Harry announced, tearing into the box and he quickly set the camera up before he pointed it at you expectantly. “Well, come on then. I’ve told my school friends all about you, they’re going to want to see what you look like too. So, smile-“ with a disbelieving laugh, you crossed your legs underneath yourself from where you were sitting on the floor across from Harry, and tucked your hair behind your ears before you looked directly at the lense of the camera and gave it the brightest smile you could muster. The camera flashed and the picture slowly revealed itself, it seemed to be good enough to satisfy Harry’s twelve year old self.

He’d shown the polaroid to Hermione first, the bushy haired girl had smiled softly as she held the polaroid gently, “She seems lovely, Harry.”

Harry had nodded his head in agreement, you were lovely. He just hoped Dudley wasn’t terrorising you too much while he was away. His cousin always had somewhat of a crush on you, which Harry knew was ridiculous considering you all but loathed Dudley.

True to his word, Harry had taken plenty of pictures, many were of (non-magic) areas of the Hogwarts campus, many were of his friends; Ron, Hermione, Fred and George Weasley (who had an absolute field day with the muggle contraption), one or two of Hagrid and he even managed to capture a nice one of the owlery. Although you were one of his best friends, sometimes thinking about you while he was in Hogwarts brought his mood down. It reminded him of how much he wished you could’ve shared in his adventures and not to mention how much he missed you, you could hardly send him an owl, what with being a muggle and all, so he only got to spend time with you during the summer months.

Things had changed during his third year, though. When he received a rather shocking, albeit very welcome, letter.

Dear Harry,

I’d like to start by saying: hi, how are you? How’s school? Good? Great. Now that that’s out of the way… when you come home I’m going to KILL you!!! I cannot believe you didn’t tell me you are a wizard! Well, I understand why you didn’t but anyway.

You’re probably wondering how I found all of this out. Long story short, I saw Vernon’s sister floating around your sitting room and then I saw you running out swinging a wand around. I put two and two together. You would not believe how long it took me to figure out how to get in contact with you. I practically had to beg Dudley to tell me how to get this package to you, he eventually told me how in exchange for a kiss on the cheek. It was as horrifying as it sounds, the things I do for you, Haz, honestly. Don’t worry though, you can make it up to me over the summer.

I bought an owl by the way. I’m guessing she found you okay? Look after her for a little while before sending her back will you? She’s just a baby so she can’t do too much long distance travel just yet.The lady I got her from is a witch, she was very kind and knew exactly what I was looking to use an owl for. Her name is Astra (the owl’s not the lady’s)! Isn’t she lovely?

Moving on from that, I felt bad forcing you to send me pictures and getting nothing in return so I have decided to very kindly grace you with my exhilaratingly normal life. You will also find I sent you some of those sweets you like.

Tell Ron and Hermione that I said hi! Oh and Fred and George too! Get into lots of trouble for me ;) I suppose I better stop rambling now, sorry about that I’m just excited (and i might be missing you… just a tiny bit!)

Write back to me soon, if you can! Tell Astra I’m proud of her for making her first delivery! (give her plenty of treats for me yeah?)

I’ll let you get back to your wizardy stuff now, Haz.

Lots of love,

(Y/n) xoxo

P.s. your magical secret is safe with me. promise.

Harry looked up from your letter with a dazed smile, your new little owl was looking at him expectantly, no doubt awaiting her treat, “Good job, Astra. Your owner says she’s very proud of you,” he informed her, handing her a piece of bacon from his breakfast plate and laughed when she hooted happily.

Astra is a gorgeous little tawny, she has brown and white feathers that were fluffy to the touch. Harry could already tell she was well suited to you though, she was friendly as anything with the most curious eyes he’d ever seen.

“Whose it from?” Ron grunted from beside him, munching happily on his huge breakfast.

Harry let out a short laugh, digging into the envelope to pull out the photos and sweets you’d sent, “(Y/n).”

“I thought she didn’t know about you?” Hermione asked from beside Ron, Harry only shrugged.

“She figured it out. She’s quite clever, I think you’d like her Hermione. She says hi by the way.” He answered somewhat distantly, distracted by the pictures you’d sent, all of which had writing on the backs. He paused on one photo, he guessed one of your parents had taken it, you were stood in the woods, surrounded by trees with a huge smile on your face, your eyes were closed and your nose was scrunched up as a very tiny Astra seemed to be nibbling at your ear affectionately.

“I’m sure we’d get along, I admire her determination, really. And she even bought an owl?” The girl questioned, reaching over and petting Astra gently.

Harry’s smile was gentle as Astra hopped onto his shoulder, “Yeah, suppose she did.”

“Alright! I’m gonna say it!” George Weasley exclaimed, plucking the photo of you from Harry’s grasp, he held it between himself and Fred, the older twin had somehow swiped the letter you’d written. “Harry’s girlfriend back home is quite cute, don’t you think, Freddie?” Fred nodded resolutely, pushing the letter into George’s face as he pointed towards a specific line.

“I have to agree and look, Georgie, she told Harry to tell us that she says hi! Ugh, such a darling,” Fred fake swooned and Harry felt his face heat up while George made kissy faces.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Yeah, you had opened Harry up to a whole new world of teasing yet somehow he didn’t mind.

“Oi, do you think she’d like some of our Weasley products?” George asked genuinely, wiggling his eyebrows. Harry shuddered at the thought of you getting a hold of anything that Fred and George had created, because yes, you would like some magical pranking products. You had quite a talent for mischief, only in Harry’s worst nightmares would the Weasley twins ever get their hands on you.

Harry shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, “Dunno.”

“She single?” Fred asked jokingly and Harry scrunched his face up. He supposed you were single, though, he’d never really pictured you with anyone. He felt quite protective over you, but he supposed he'd like to see you happy with someone he approved of- or alternatively; anyone but Dudley.

“Think so,” Harry told him with another shrug before a cheeky grin spread across his lips, as he focused his attention on the twins who were nudging each other in mock victory, “Why? Should I write home and tell her the esteemed Weasley twins have a crush on her?”

George was the first the speak, he nodded, completely serious and Harry found himself worrying that perhaps one of the Weasley twins would get his hands on you.

“Yes. Absolutely,” Fred snorted and said no more, allowing his younger twin to continue the girl based antics seeing as Fred’s actual crush, Angelina, had started to glare. “In fact, give her my name. Tell her to write to me next time, eh?”

Harry’s eyes widened, oh Merlin, George was serious.

“Oh sod off, would you? The poor girl is a muggle, she’d throw herself off the astronomy tower if she got stuck with either of you prats.” Ron said through a laugh, none of them could deny it was quite funny, even Hermione had to bite back a smile at the chaos your simple letter had caused.

Around two weeks had passed until Astra returned to you, two letters attached to her leg this time.

You greeted her with a warm smile as she landed on the inside of you window, “Welcome home, pretty lady! Did you have a nice trip?” You cooed, patting her feathers and giggling when she nuzzled her head against your fingers. Having a magical owl as a pet was weird, but still, you seemed to be managing her okay.

Astra hooted happily, as if informing you that she did, in fact, have a nice trip. “That’s good! Let me take these letters off and you can have a well deserved rest, I’ve made a nice nest up for you,” you rambled softly as you untied the string that was holding the letters to her leg.

Astra hooted, hopping onto your arm and allowing you to place her on the plush pile of pillows and blankets which she immediately made herself comfortable upon, once again hooting in content when you placed a handful of treats in front of her.

You assumed that both letters were from Harry until you noticed the messy handwriting that covered one of the envelopes, handwriting that definitely didn’t belong to Harry. Besides, never, even in the furthest reaches of your imagination, would your best friend ever refer to you as; “Harry’s Pretty Neighbour”. You set that one to the side for the time being and focused on the letter you knew to actually be from Harry.

Dear (Y/n),

Hi. Sorry I didn’t tell you I was a wizard. If it makes you feel better I was actually planning on telling you this summer, but thank you for saving me from that conversation. I miss you too (only a tad). I hope you’re having a good school year so far, it’s been pretty chaotic here but I promise I’ll tell you every single tiny detail when we see each other at the end of May!

Did Astra get home okay? She’s a really lovely owl, she took quite a liking to George who (terrifyingly) has taken quite a liking to you. He’s been badgering me all week for “permission” to write to you, in his words, “just to say hello.” I think you’d actually get along but he and the rest of his family are very magic oriented, I’d be surprised if he didn’t scare you away… the pair of you together would be my worst nightmare. Don’t even get me started on how I’d feel if Fred was in the mix too. I’m tired just thinking about it.

Thank you for the sweets they were lovely, I put a chocolate frog in the envelope for you, it’s a really popular sweet in the wizarding world- don’t freak out when it hops, it’s just a charm the frog isn’t really alive.

I enjoyed the pictures too, I put a few in this letter for you too, the polaroid is running out of film but it should be enough to keep me going until the end of term.

Write to me again soon, I like hearing from you.

Take care,

Harry.

P.S. I’m really sorry you had to kiss Dudley, I’ll do something to make it up to you. Promise.

P.P.S. If George OR Fred manage to write to you PLEASE don’t eat anything they give you.

With a laugh you set the letter down beside you. Curiously, you reached a hand into the ivory envelope and pulled out the peculiarly shaped chocolate box as well as the polaroids. You viewed the photos with a fond smile, Harry always looked so happy, even with whatever chaos was happening around him. Wizard school definitely made your best friend the happiest he’d ever been.

Opening the next letter, which you now guessed judging by Harry’s letter, came from George Weasley, Harry’s friend Ron’s older brother. That was all you knew about him. You let out a gasp once you opened the seal, a small show of tiny fireworks shot out, exploding in balls of reds and oranges across your bedroom before they disappeared as if they’d never been there in the first place.

Slightly frazzled, yet amazed, you cautiously plucked the letter from the envelope and began reading.

Hello, Harry’s Pretty Neighbour.

I hope you enjoyed the show, hopefully it didn’t startle you too much… I’m not exactly sure what muggles are used to… if it did scare you I’m sorry.

Anyway, just wanted to say hi. Promised Harry I wouldn’t spook you, he’s quite protective of you, you know. It’s very sweet.

I don’t blame him, though. If I had a friend as pretty as you I’d be protective too ;)

Don’t break my heart, write back?

Yours truly,

George Weasley x

And that had been the start of it. Two years had passed since you’d discovered the wizarding world and it seemed as though things had simultaneously gotten worse and better. As it turns out, your lifelong best friend was some sort of prophetic hero in the wizard community and on top of that it seemed that there was a war brewing that he would be expected to lead.

Of course, you were completely useless as you don’t possess the ability to perform magic which also means you're at risk of being hate crimed by some classist, wizard, blood supremacists? You weren’t sure. But Harry was worried.

You’d been writing back and forth to a few of Harry’s Hogwarts friends (your friends now too) for a long while now, you’d even gotten a chance to finally meet them when you’d gone with the Dursleys to collect Harry from King’s Cross Station.

You got along best with Hermione seeing as she was raised similarly to yourself and Harry. However, of all of Harry’s school mates, you liked George the most. Everyone could have predicted it really, you’d been writing to each other constantly and the second you’d clapped eyes on each other in the flesh he’d broken out in a run to crush you in a hug. Harry had groaned at the sight of the pair of you, smiling widely at each other, seeming to slot together perfectly. He had to laugh about it now though, if things went well with Ginny he supposed you’d probably end up being his sister-in-law, assuming his predictions of George falling completely in love with you were correct (they were, he knew).

All air of laughter or wizard/muggle romances was gone at the moment however. You and Harry sat alongside each other, your hand holding his loosely between the swings you were sat on, he’d be going into his 5th year at Hogwarts soon, he’d yet to recover from the last. He’d made a friend only for that friend to be killed right in front of him. He’d almost been murdered himself for God’s sake.

“If you don’t feel safe, Haz… maybe, I don’t know? Don’t go back?” You suggested weakly, knowing he’d never do such a thing. As you expected, Harry shook his head and looked at you solemnly.

“Can’t. Not now that he’s back.” With a sigh you squeezed his hand.

“They should be paying you for this, you know,” Harry chuckled then, squeezing your hand in return.

“I’m doing this for you too. To keep you safe.” He admitted and you sighed miserably.

“I wish I could be of more help.” Harry scoffed, his green eyes shining with pure disbelief as he stared at you.

“More help? (Y/n) you must be joking…” he trailed off as you shook your head, you weren’t joking, you hated that you couldn’t help Harry through this, for once you knew there was nothing you could do to improve the situation in any way that would make an impact, “Oi. Look at me,” Harry demanded, no trace of the usual awkward sarcasm to be heard when he spoke.

You let your eyes meet his again and watched how they seemed to soften when he took in how utterly defenceless you looked, “If it hadn’t been for you, the first ten years of my life would’ve been an even worse hell than they already were. You were the only good thing and you’re still the only good thing about being back in this place.”

He watched sadly as your eyes fell to the floor again, “Besides, the sooner we get this mess with Voldemort sorted out, the sooner you and George Weasley can navigate the whole muggle/wizard romance thing.”

At his statement you barked out a laugh and Harry let himself smile too, “Shut up, Potter. S’not like that.”

Harry laughed then too, “Oh it is so like that, (N/n).”

“It so isn’t.” You grumbled, but your little smile confirmed to Harry that it absolutely was like that.

“Okay. Fine, please then do tell, what is going on between you and the infamous George Weasley?” Harry challenged, revelling in the way your cheeks burned with embarrassment. He let out a low chuckle when you shrugged shyly and kicked the stones beneath your feet.

“I don’t know… We write to each other a lot, and I think he’s really interesting and funny and sweet and of course I think he’s fit. But, I don’t know,” you bit your lip as Harry listened to you, he found it quite endearing. “I just don’t see how it would work. I like him, yeah, but…” Harry scoffed again as you trailed off. He hated seeing you feeling so insecure, Harry was clueless about a lot of things, but he knew exactly how much his best friend was worth- more than all the gold in Gringott’s.

“Ok as your best mate, and as someone who is very close with the Weasley family, I’m telling you that he’s mad about you. All he ever does is ask me about you, Fred is completely sick of him. He’s even told Molly about you, which is truly a commitment believe me,” Harry started, growing more content with the more bashful you became, “And didn’t he write to you just before the Yule Ball to tell you that he was going with Katie Bell as a friend but he wanted to tell you just incase you heard it from someone else and he didn’t want you to get the wrong idea?” Finally, you were back to fighting a smile.

“Yeah he did.”

“Well there you go. But seriously he hasn’t dated or even so much as looked at anyone else since he met you. Which I’ll be honest is super annoying for me but you deserve someone who thinks you hung the stars in the sky.”

A mock gasp left your lips and you released his hand to place it over your chest in faux hurt, “You mean to tell me you don’t think I hung the stars in the sky? I’m hurt, Harry. I think I’ll have to rat you out to Mrs. Weasley.”

Harry laughed but the lighthearted atmosphere didn’t last long before Dudley had shown up with his little gang of bullies, all of whom made fun of Harry’s nightmares.

It was then things had taken a turn for the worst, the sky turned black and storm clouds completely blocked out the previously scorching sun. You looked to Harry for answers but he seemed to be seeing something that you couldn’t, all you knew was that it had become unbearably cold, a feeling of misery making a home in your bones as Harry rushed to pull you to your feet.

“Run! Come on!” He shouted, clutching your hand tightly in his and sprinting through the neighbourhood until you, Harry and Dudley found yourselves struggling to catch a breath in a graffiti covered tunnel.

A terrified yelp left your throat as what you’d been running from revealed itself to you.

Several floating, cloaked shadowy figures swooped into the tunnel on both sides, their hands decaying and boney, their presence leaving you with the feeling that you’d never know positively ever again.

Harry had effectively used his body to cage you against the wall of the tunnel, his back pressed firmly against your chest, your own back pressed to the cold concrete wall, his wand was at the ready as the creatures approached rapidly.

“Don’t look at them.” Harry instructed, protecting you first as you watched in horror as one of the creatures seemed to be ripping Dudley’s essence straight out of his body.

It only took Harry a few painfully long seconds to take care of the creature in front of the pair of you, you’d wished you’d taken his advice and buried your head in his shoulder so you wouldn’t see the monstrous creatures before you, yet, you couldn’t seem to tear your eyes away from Dudley.

The rest happened in a blur, Harry had yet to let go of your hand as it (and your entire body) shook violently. Demontors broke even the strongest of wizards, Harry knew that as a muggle who’d never seen a magical creature, other than an owl, you’d react negatively.

“If it makes you feel any better, I used to faint every time I saw a dementor.” You nodded numbly, giving Dudley a side glance of concern while he mumbled incoherently to himself.

“Is he alright?” You questioned meekly, voice shaking. You were still freezing and the all too familiar feeling of uselessness didn’t do anything to help you regain your inner warmth.

Harry nodded, “He will be.”

“The ministry will be after my head for using magic outside of school,” he told you after a few minutes, squeezing your hand lightly for the umpteenth time, “So I’m gonna have to go away for a while. Probably tonight. Eat some chocolate, it should stop the shaking.” He told you, you hadn’t even noticed you’d reached Privet Drive.

“And they won’t-“ your breath got caught in your throat and your eyes filled with fear, “The dementors. They won’t come back, will they?”

Harry shook his head, “No. But come on, we should get you inside before the ministry shows up and tries to obliviate you.” His final words came out as more of a mumble than an actual sentence as he passed a bumbling Dudley over to Petunia and Vernon before steering you down your own driveway.

“You better not have broken her too, boy!” You vaguely registered Vernon’s voice shouting in your and Harry’s direction.

Your parents were away on holiday at the moment, in Spain. They’d wanted you to come but you hadn’t wanted to miss Harry’s visit, so when you shakily managed to open the door the house was completely dark, you weren’t sure at what point night had fallen.

Harry closed the door behind himself and made his way into your kitchen, the boy rifled through your sweet press before his hand finally settled on what he was looking for. A triumphant sort of yell left his lips as he pulled a bar of chocolate out of the cupboard.

While Harry tossed the bar onto the counter and busied himself with boiling the kettle, you stood in the hallway still, completely rigid.

“Come on, (Y/n). Sit down.” He urged gently, not turning around. Wordlessly, you fully entered the kitchen and slid into a chair facing Harry.

“Don’t you have better things to be doing than making me tea?” You wondered, setting your hands on the table and fidgeting with your icy fingers. Obviously, you appreciated Harry’s fussing but with the way he was talking about the ministry earlier you were sure he had more important things to worry about.

Harry only faced you once he was finished making your tea. He carried the hot cup and the previously discarded bar of chocolate over to you, he placed them both on the table before giving you a hard look, “I’m looking after you first. I’ll deal with everything else later.”

“I used to be the one who took care of you.” You said through a sigh, taking a sip of the hot tea and slumping against your seat as you began to heat up on the inside again.

Harry let out a low chuckle, “Oh how the tables have turned.”

“I liked it better the other way.” You complained, munching on a square of chocolate.

“Trust me, so did I,” Harry groaned, standing up and placing a comforting hand on your shoulder, “Don’t worry though, (N/n). Have a sneaking feeling that you’ll be looking after me again soon enough.”

You patted the hand he had clamped on your shoulder in appreciation, “Thank you, though, for looking after me.”

“Course. I better go. I don’t want you getting roped into anything else tonight,” he said with a sad smile and you nodded in understanding, “We probably won’t see each other for a while but I’ll write. Is Astra back from Cecilia's yet?” Celillia is the witch you’d gotten Astra from in the first place, the pair of you had kept in touch and she’d recently offered to try and teach you some basic divination skills, she claimed that, “Being a wizard isn’t exactly a requirement” and you desperately needed something, anything, to make you feel more connected to your friends in the wizarding world. You supposed you’d need to plan a trip to her cottage soon, after tonight you definitely needed some of her wisdom.

“No, not yet. She flew straight there from the burrow so I suppose she’s probably resting,” you informed him distantly, still clutching his hand, “You’ll be careful, won’t you?”

Harry squeezed your shoulder and let out a deep breath, “I’ll try my best. Promise,” with that he lifted his hand from your shoulder and extended his pinky to you, you gladly linked it with your own. Harry noted, very gratefully, that the warmth had now returned to your hands and you’d stopped shaking so violently.

“Send me a letter once Astra gets back, alright? I’ll keep you updated on what’s going on over on my side.” You agreed before walking Harry to the door, hugging him tightly and watching as he approached the Dursley’s front door.

As predicted, Harry, George, Hermione and Cecillia had let you know that the wizarding world was crumbling fast. Admittedly you were worried about your wizard friends, but Cecillia had done a great job of keeping you distracted by keeping you buried under heaps of divination books, tarot cards and crystal guidebooks. As it turns out, though, you had quite the talent for making accurate detailed predictions.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were descended from a powerful seer,” she’d written to you in awe after you’d managed to predict exactly how a date of hers would go without missing a single detail.

Reading tarot cards quickly became one of your favourite hobbies to indulge in when you weren’t in school. You’d made the mistake of telling George about it in a recent letter, Harry already knew and he also knew that there was no point telling you that he didn’t have a heap of faith in divination. George however was having a field day with the new information.

The older boy teased you at every chance he got, but it was all in good fun as in every letter he sent, you’d find a page that he’d ripped out of his own divination book, the pages would be crinkled and have messy notes scribbled along the margins, with explanations over words that he knew you wouldn’t understand as a muggle. They were actually really helpful. Aside from all the teasing he found it quite endearing that you were trying to get familiar with some form of magic. Even if it was a form of magic wizards tended to ridicule.

He’d been quite worried about you, Harry told him about the dementors and how you’d been quite shaken up after your encounter with them. He’d written to you on a weekly basis, constantly checking in on you, making absolutely sure that no more dementors paid you a visit. He and Harry both kept you up to date with the constant and seemingly never ending rules being imposed upon them by their new headmaster, or headmistress; Delores Umbridge. George also disclosed to you all about his and Fred’s plan to leave Hogwarts and pursue their lifelong dream of opening a joke shop. You had nothing but faith in the twins, really. Your complete faith in them hadn’t stopped you from sending George a handful of crystals that you believed would help his and his shop’s success. He’d teased you relentlessly in each letter since he’d received your package containing citrine, tiger’s eye, amazonite, aventurine and smokey quartz. What he hadn’t mentioned since receiving your little gifts, is that he’d been carrying the five crystals around in their little orange mesh drawstring bag in his pocket everywhere he went. He had to give credit where credit is due and, to be fair to you and your holistic ways, he hadn’t run into any serious obstacles since he started carrying the gems around.

November through June had brought forth a plethora of unfortunate events. You were practically swimming in school work which left you with no time to write to Harry, or even practice tarot. As well as that, you’d been having nightmares, although Cecillia had warned that these dreams could hold some sort of prophesies within them, you highly doubted that though, you weren’t a wizard, only a muggle. Whether prophetic or not, the nightmares plagued you, keeping you up at night or waking you at all hours of the morning.

On one particular morning, you’d awoken with a gasp. Sweat coated your face, soaked your pillow cases and caused your legs to stick to your blankets in a way not even the June heat could've caused. Your heart pounded against your ribcage, tears welled in your eyes, and your body shook as violently as it had the night you’d come face to face with the dementors of Azkaban. The unadulterated fear coursing through your bloodstream suggested that perhaps this bad dream had been something more than simply that.

As fast as you could manage in your panicked state, you dragged your body out of bed and stumbled towards your light switch, flicking it on before haphazardly ripping a sheet out of the refill pad on your desk, grabbing a pen and beginning to scribble down the dream that you could only describe as a warning.

Your laboured breaths stirred Astra from her slumber, the tawny hooted tiredly, hopping out of her cage and fluttering over to your shoulder, settling there as you wrote.

Harry,

I hope this letter reaches you in time. I might sound completely mad but something terrible may be about to happen. I’ve been having these horrific dreams over the last few months, I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to worry but Cecillia suspects they’re premonitions and I’m terrified she may be right. I’ve just woken up, it’s around 2am and if I’m lucky, Astra should get this letter to you before 6am…

Onto the dream, you were there and you were asleep, I was standing by your bed, it was a four-poster sort of thing, the room was decorated in mostly red and gold. You woke up panicked, you looked completely overwhelmed and you began shouting about your Godfather Sirius, about how he was in trouble… From then on I watched the day play out. You, Hermoine, Ron, Ginny, a boy with brown hair I’ve never met, I think you called him Neville in my dream, and a blonde girl- Luna I think you called her, you all went to the ministry to rescue Sirius and find some kind of prophecy. Harry you have to listen to me, you mustn’t go, it’s a trick, Voldemort planted it in your head and if you go you’ll only put Sirius in harm’s way. But, knowing you, you’re gonna go anyway… so here’s my advice: keep your eyes open for the witch Bellatrix. Keep Sirius away from the veil and please please please, be careful.

I’m heading to Cecillia’s cottage for the day and maybe even the next couple of days, send Astra there when you find time to write back.

I hope I’m wrong but if I’m not; good luck, Harry. I love you and if you don’t look after yourself the dark lord will be the least of your worries.

Lots of love,

Y/n.

Folding up the letter and placing it in a stray envelope, you addressed it and gently tied it to your loyal owl’s leg. “I’m gonna need you to go as fast as you can to get this to Harry, okay Astra?” She hooted with what you guessed to be determination before she set off, out into the night. Thankfully for you, now that your owl was occupied, you knew Cecillia owned a telephone so you’d have no problems contacting her. While writing to Harry, you’d left out a few details about the dream. You conveniently forget to mention that you’d watched his only remaining family member killed at the hand’s of Bellatrix, it had looked so terrifyingly real that your mind couldn’t have possibly conjured it up all by itself. You also failed to mention hearing Harry’s agonising scream as Sirius fell, the noise was nearly deafening. Seeing Sirius, a man you’d only seen in pictures, die and watching your best friend mourn for him was, well, traumatising. There was no way you’d get a wink of sleep for the remainder of the night, so, you quietly tiptoed downstairs and made a call.

The line rang three times before Cecillia’s voice sounded, chirpy as ever despite the late hour, “Hello?”

“Sorry to call so late,” was all you managed, your voice although shaky was immediately identified by the much older witch.

You could nearly see the soft smile on her youthful face as she spoke, “Ah, Y/n my darling, no worries at all! How is my favourite student doing at half two in the morning?”

“Not well, I’ve had another vision. I think you might’ve been right about the dreams being prophetic,” you told her, willing your voice not to crack as the image of your bad dreams crept into your mind once again.

Cecillia let out a gentle hum, “Shall I apparate over? You don’t sound in the highest of spirits, darling.”

“Yes please,” you answered simply and within seconds Cecillia was standing before you, a worried furrow in her brow and her ashy brown hair disheveled from apparating to you in such a hurry. How could she not? You were, after all, her protégé.

“Oh, darling. You look terribly shaken up, come, come, let’s get you some water,” she fretted, guiding you to your kitchen, magically flicking on the light with her wand and filling up a glass of water, with a few flicks of her wrist the glass had floated over to your usual seat at the table, meanwhile Cecillia had stirred you into the wooden chair adjacent the glass.

Wordlessly, the witch peeled your damp hair away from your face and secured it back with a crocodile clip shaped like a huge golden bumble bee, it’s wings adorned with glittering gems. The bee sat comfortably in your hair as Cecillia finally sat down beside you, she made herself comfortable on the kitchen chair, crossing one leg over the other, resting her elbow on the table and using it to prop her cheek up. Her wide green eyes stared at you sympathetically, watching intently as you sipped your water.

“I’m assuming your loyal familiar is sleeping soundly?” She wondered, referring to Astra. You shook your head, simultaneously swallowing a gulp of water before responding verbally.

“I sent her with a letter to Harry, it was more of a warning really,” Cecillia nodded her head, signalling you to go on, “I dreamt of Harry and his friends going to the Ministry of Magic to rescue Sirius Black, but it was a trap. When they got there they were ambushed by dark wizards and Sirius well he…” you trailed off, eyes growing distant and unfocused when the sight of the man being murdered reentered your mind’s eye. A gentle hand on your shoulder pulled you back to the present.

“This one was far worse than the others then?”

You nodded, “It didn’t feel like a dream, cecillia. It was like I was actually standing there but I couldn’t do anything to help though… as per usual,” you muttered bitterly, receiving a harsh squeeze to your shoulder in response.

Cecillia fixed you with a maternal glare, “None of that! You potentially saved a life tonight. And, as I effortlessly predicted since the moment I met you, you’ve got the magical gift of sight,” her hard look melted into something more forgiving as she spoke, “You’re much more than just a muggle. You may have been an extremely late bloomer, but, you’re a witch and a seer at that. A peculiar case indeed, although in the wizarding world stranger things have happened,” the old witch told you proudly, eyes shining with glee as your own filled with confusion.

“How do we know the dream will even come true?” You questioned.

Cecillia simply shrugged and offered you a cheeky grin, “I trust your feelings, darling.”

True to your initial feeling, you hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep, you knew you wouldn’t be able to rest until you found out whether or not your dream had come to fruition. Cecillia remained by your side throughout the night, eventually the sun had risen and your parents descended down the stairs, neither of them were surprised to see Cecillia sitting at the kitchen table. They saw her as an odd woman, very kind and perfectly lovely, but odd. You’d told them that she owned an animal sanctuary and that you’d been volunteering with her, it wasn’t too far fetched really, she had given you an owl after all, not to mention the amount of cats that hung around her cottage.

She explained to your parents that she needed your help at ‘the sanctuary’ for the next few days and that she’d drop you home once the work was finished. It hadn’t been a problem, so you traveled to Cecillia’s cottage after getting dressed and packing an overnight bag (full to the brim with tarot decks and only some clothes).

It was nearly 8 in the evening when Cecillia sauntered into her living room, where you were sitting, sporting a knowing grin, she held a piece of parchment in one hand and an unopened envelope in the other.

Jovially, she plopped herself down beside you, obviously doing her very best to contain a huge grin from forming on her face. Wordlessly, she placed the envelope on your lap with a mere, “For you.”

On the envelope you could tell by the handwriting that it had come from Harry. This was definitely a make or break moment for you. The contents of this letter would either confirm that you did in fact have magic, or, they would be responsible for causing you to experience a seismic amount of embarrassment. Swallowing the lump in your throat you tore the envelope open, freeing the letter and daring to read what was inside.

Dear Y/n,

Your dream was right. And that advice you gave about keeping an eye on Sirius? It saved his life. I suppose I’m mostly writing to say thank you. I’ve got some updates for you too: firstly, it’s finally been confirmed that Voldemort is back so my name is cleared. Secondly, it turns out that Remus and Cecillia are old friends, she contacted him earlier today about your vision and he and Sirius haven’t shut up about how impressive it is. I have a feeling you might be hearing from them soon, The Order now more than ever is in need of a secret weapon and genuine seers are hard to come by. I hate to involve you in this, it’ll probably be dangerous and you know I don’t want to see you hurt, or worse. But having said that, I’m glad we’re in this together now.

Astra got here in good time, by the way, she landed on my window just after I woke up from my vision of Sirius, it was actually quite freaky. I’m taking good care of her so don’t worry, she should be back to you at some point tomorrow.

Hermoine and Ron say hi too. I’m sure you’ll be hearing from George soon, seeing as he and Fred are in the Order… On that note I better get going.

Thank you again for the warning.

See you soon,

Love, Harry.

A bemused smile spread across your lips as you scanned the page, thankful to have finally made a significant difference in Harry’s life. Cecillia was grinning like a cheshire cat beside you, pride shimmering in her emerald eyes. She bumped her arm against yours playfully when you let the letter fall to your lap, “An old friend of mine will be stopping by in a short while. It seems he’d like to get you trained up in some defence against the dark arts.” She told you, still grinning.

“Defence against the dark arts?” You wondered out loud, you were sure you’d heard Harry mention those words to you before, however, the memories were fuzzy.

“Magic to keep you safe from darker magic, the likes of which the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters rely,” she explained darkly. Just then, a loud bang erupted from her open stone fireplace, a bubble of green dissipated as two men stepped less than gracefully onto Cecillia’s faux-fur rug. You recognised them both from your vision. They were Sirius Black and, if you were to take an educated guess, Remus Lupin.

Cecillia wasted no time before she was giddily jumping from her seat to greet the pair who had just appeared in her sitting room.

“Remus! Oh, how wonderful to see you!” She all but squealed, pulling the tall man into a hug and ruffling his already messy hair.

He reciprocated the hug with a gentle chuckle, “It’s nice to see you again, Cece. It’s been far too long,” he pulled away and the pair of them shared a fond smile before simultaneously looking to Sirius. “I trust you remember Sirius?” Lupin asked, almost rhetorically.

Sirius let out a booming laugh at that, “She could never forget me, now could you, Cece?” Cecillia rolled her eyes, and with a look of endearment nearly tackled Sirius into an embrace.

Seeing the woman who was essentially your magical mentor so overjoyed was lovely, Cecillia was jolly at the best of times but you’d never seen her quite like this. Her happiness added to your sense of helpfulness, Sirius Black was obviously important to more than just Harry, if the smile on the free-spirited witches face was anything to go by. Although you were ecstatic for the three witches and wizards before you, you couldn’t help but feel like you were imposing on an intimate reunion.

Awkwardly you cleared your throat, successfully bringing the trio’s attention onto you as you stood by the sofa, smiling unsurely. If it was even possible, all three of their smiles broadened when their gazes landed on you.

“Am I right in assuming that this is my guardian angel?” Sirius asked, separating from Cecillia.

Cecillia nodded, filled with pride, “And isn’t she just the loveliest guardian angel you’ve ever seen?” She gushed, half seriously.

You offered Sirius a bashful smile, along with a nod of greeting, “I’m glad to see you’re alright,” you told him.

His grin stayed fixed in place but he raised a single eyebrow in confusion, “Glad? And yet you’ve never met me before now…” his tone was laced with inquisition, as if he wanted to figure out what ulterior motive you could possibly have for caring about a stranger you’d only ever seen in a dream.

It didn’t take a seer or a psychic to see what Sirius was after, so you simply answered him truthfully, “No, we’ve never met, but you’re still a person, I watched that woman kill you, it was horrible, nobody deserves that. As well as that; I know how much you mean to Harry and what sort of best friend would I be if I didn’t try to help him keep his last family member safe?” Sirius nodded approvingly at your reply, looking between Remus and Cecillia.

“She remind you of anyone?” The black haired man asked in a low chuckle, Remus snickered and Cecillia bit back a grin.

The witch made her way back to your side and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, jostling you ever so slightly when she noticed your vaguely worried expression, “Don’t worry, darling, you just remind us of one of our most treasured school friends, I promise I will tell you all about it later. But for now, I believe Sirius was about to thank you for saving his life?” She prompted, waiting expectantly.

Sirius cleared his throat and straightened his posture before outstretching his arm, offering you his hand which you took firmly in your own. His voice was steady, strong and genuine when he spoke, “I am truly thankful for what you did for not only me but Harry today. I’m extremely proud of my godson for aligning himself with such a strong, powerful and wonderfully loyal young lady.”

“How sweet,” Cecillia cooed, before guiding you to the kitchen, “Come now, boys, kettles on- we have a lot to discuss!” She called over her shoulder.

There certainly had been a lot to discuss. The Order of the Phoenix thought having a seer at their disposal would be extremely beneficial in the upcoming war, the issue was; you are not yet of age and some members of the group didn’t wish to involve a child in their battle. Sirius, Remus and Cecillia made it abundantly clear that if you desired to join the Order, you were more than welcome but you would be welcomed under certain conditions. Those conditions being that your membership be kept under wraps and not disclosed to any muggles, meaning your parents.

“To keep them safe and to give you an escape route if things get too messy, even with the level of magic you’ll have gained by the time the war is in full swing, as a muggle born you’ll most likely need to flee quickly,” Remus explained, though it didn’t make much sense.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to run if my parents knew what we were running from? They’re open minded people, I’m sure they’d understand,” you attempted to reason, the trio but exchanged yet another loaded look with each other.

Cecillia placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, “We have a contingency plan in place, darling. Nothing you need to worry about for right now,” she reassured, easing your nerves a tad. “You trust me don’t you?” She followed up, her tone slightly stonier, more serious. You nodded your head certainly in response, there was no doubt about it; you trusted the witch with your life. “Then,” she began again, a somewhat chastising look on her face, “Trust that I will not allow a single hair on your head to be harmed.” This rule also extended to wizards not in the Order, which meant that when in the magical world, you were to air on the side of extreme caution.

Relating to that, another condition was that, at all times in the magical world, you were to be accompanied by an of age member of the Order. According to Sirius, who your were growing to like more by the second, he was going to arrange for a member of the Order to bring you to Diagon Alley in the morning to get you a wand. The prospect of having a wand of your own was terribly exciting, once again though, you found yourself wondering if you had it in you to properly wield one, or wield one at all for that matter. You were too exhausted to fret for too long, so the thoughts about magic levels and your own capabilities were only fleeting. Once all of the serious chat dissipated into friendly chatter, you managed to slip away from the table at which you were all sat. Making your way back to the sitting room, you tucked yourself into the corner seat of Cecillia’s old and very comfortable sofa, pulled your knees against your chest, wrapped your arms around them and rested your cheek against your knee. Slowly and deeply, you began to breathe in and out, fiddling with the amazonite bracelet that adorned your wrist in order to quell your ever growing anxiety. For a few sweet minutes you indulged in the calm silence, meditating peacefully in your comfy seat until a soft knock sounded from the doorway. When your eyes fluttered open they were met with the image of Sirius Black, leaning casually against the frame of the door, a hand plunged deep into his trouser pocket and another flipping a stray tarot card between his fingers. His eyes were focused on yours as he spoke, “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

You shook your head and patted the seat beside you, “‘Course not, come sit.”

The man chuckled but obliged, settling in the spot beside you and offering you the card he’d previously been fiddling with.

“The ten of swords,” you identified easily, “I assume you’ve been feeling quite overwhelmed if this card found its way to you.”

Sirius hummed, “CeCe tells me that you’ve a penchant for card reading. I was rubbish at divination back at Hogwarts, only took it because I thought it’d be easy but I could never get my head around it,” he reminisced, an airy laugh slipping from his lips.

“If you don’t mind me asking, who were you all talking about earlier when you asked if I reminded Cecilia and Remus of anyone?” He let out a deep sigh before fixing you with a soft smile.

“An old school friend of ours, she was more than a friend to me, but that’s a story for another time,” he started, staring out into the empty space before him a melancholy grin on his lips, “She was fiercely loyal to her friends, if she wanted to help there was absolutely nothing that would stop her from doing so. I know I don’t know you very well, but from what I heard today and the way in which you’ve been described to me by Harry; I can see her in you,” he finished, bumping his shoulder with yours and forcing a happy smile onto your lips which mirrored Sirius’.

“What’s her name?” You asked.

“Her name was Marlene,” Sirius answered.

Your heart dropped with his use of past tense, “Was?”

Sirius bowed his head slightly and began to twist the rings that adorned his slender fingers, “She was killed during the first war,” he told you, making eye contact once again, a grave expression on his face as he continued, “I saw your apprehension earlier when we brought up the topic of secrecy, but you must understand that during the first war we lost so many who were dear to us, keeping you in our back pocket will ensure that you aren’t harmed in the face of this war, if any dark wizards hear so much of a whisper of a muggleborn seer they will stop at nothing to eliminate you,” he paused for a brief second, never breaking eye contact, the gravity of the situation heavy on your chest your fingers absentmindedly found your amazonite bracelet once again. Your movements were halted when Sirius placed his large hand over yours, squeezing it warmly while staring at you determinedly, “You saved my life today, Y/n. So believe me when I tell you that I will stop at nothing to keep you safe,” he promised and you squeezed his hand in return.

“I know,” he smiled as he watched your eyes return to the ten of swords and your grin broadened with the sort of mischief he’d only ever seen in four people; James Potter, Marlene McKinnon and Fred and George Weasley. “I have a prediction for you.”

Sirius entertained you fondly, a mischievous air that reminded him of when he was your age surrounding the pair of you, “By all means, do tell.”

“I predict,” you paused for emphasis, “that we are going to be very good friends.”

Sirius let out a booming laugh of which the volume he couldn’t control, “That is a prediction I truly hope will come to fruition.”

“Oh no, this is a duo that spells trouble,” Cecillia giggled to Remus as they entered the sitting room.

Remus looked between you and Sirius with a grin, “With a mentor like you, Cece, I’m not surprised Y/n has a taste for mischief,” the ruffled wizard teased, receiving a gentle elbow to the ribs from your mentor.

“Oi, if you’re going to blame my beloved girl’s mischief on anyone you better blame it on a certain Weasley twin,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows and causing the boys to smile giddily like teenagers.

Sirius bumped your shoulder again, this time with a faux-scandalised smile, “A Weasley twin, eh? Come on then, which one?” You blushed heavily and cleared your throat in an attempt to alleviate the embarrassment filling your being.

“He’s just a friend!”

“Mhm. A friend that sends her annotated pages from his divination text book,” Cecillia sang and Sirius snickered.

“Whichever one it is must be quite taken with you if you made him actually crack open a textbook.”

“Annotations are quite intimate,” Remus half teased although you could see he believed what he’d just said, “I bet it’s George,” he directed the bet at Sirius who carefully observed the way you bit your lip and bashfully looked towards the wooden floor.

“I think you’re right, moony. Now!” He stood suddenly and pointed a finger at Remus expectantly, “We best get going and arrange Y/n’s accomplice for tomorrow’s field trip,” he wiggled his eyebrows before turning his head to face you again, he shot you a wink and you couldn’t stop the airy laugh that left your mouth at his lighthearted antics.

Remus gave Cecillia a one armed hug, “we’ll be seeing you both tomorrow then, it was lovely to meet you, Y/n, perhaps next time Sirius will allow me to get a word in,” he chuckled and Sirius responded by throwing his arm around your shoulder.

“I better get off, this husband of mine is growing jealous,” he told you in a teasingly hushed whisper.

Your eyes widened and you looked between the two men, “You two are married?”

A love struck smile took over both of their faces which immediately gave you your answer. “We’re engaged,” Sirius clarified before pulling you into a proper hug, “Get a good night's sleep, we’ll be sending an order member to collect you early tomorrow morning so you can be in and out of Olivander’s before a crowd can build,” he told you while giving you an affectionate squeeze, you could’ve laughed when you realised that it felt like you’d known Sirius forever but you also could’ve cried when you relived the image of him losing his life and realised that just because it was over and prevented didn't mean it hadn’t still transpired in your mind’s eye, you didn’t let that show on your face though.

“I’ll make sure I’m well rested,” you promised.

With that, Sirius bid Cecillia goodbye, and he and Remus left the way they’d came.

The rest of the night had been spent with Cecillia telling you story after story about her school days and the trouble she’d caused with Sirius, Remus, James and Lily Potter, Harry’s parents, and another boy who she only referred to as “the rat”. Though the tone of the stories were completely lighthearted, they weighed on your chest with a sense of such tragedy. A huge majority of their friends were killed young because of the war, a war that was now waging once again. It led you to wonder who’d be lost to this one, if perhaps you’d be on the list of names that Harry or Cecillia or George would speak about fondly with a dense undertone of sorrow in the years after the second war had long since been won. It was a risk you were willing to take though, the notion of fighting for a deserving cause filled you with a sense of purpose, a purpose you’d been searching for for years. More than that, you felt important. You were needed. An asset. You would actually be of some help.

True to your word, you’d been getting a good night’s rest. The bed in Cecillia’s spare room was the comfiest thing you’d ever come across, though, as you began to stir from your deep slumber you couldn’t recall the empty side of the double bed being quite so dipped.

Slowly and begrudgingly, you cracked your eyes open to see Cecillia smiling tiredly at you in the light of dawn, “Morning, darling. Sorry about the early start, I’ve made you some tea,” she greeted quietly so as to not disturb the peace of the early morning. She held two ceramic mugs, one in each hand and passed you the steaming cup that was hand painted green, keeping the brown one for herself. Tiredly, you patted the spot beside you and pulled the quilt to the side, inviting the witch into the warm bed. She happily slid in, pulling the quilt over her and chuckling quietly when you dropped your head onto her robed shoulder and began to sip the tea she’d made. Cecillia rested her head against yours and sipped on her own tea.

“Are you excited for today?” She asked and you hummed.

“I’m having mixed emotions,” you stated, “I’m excited to see everything, but I’m sort of nervous that I won’t have enough magic to even get a wand,” Comfort spread through your chest when Cecillia pressed her lips to the crown of your head.

“The wonderful thing about wands, lovely, is that the wand picks the wizard,” she began, “so whatever wand you end up with will accentuate the level of magic inside you. Its power will grow as yours does and you’ll soon come to realise that you couldn’t imagine wielding anything else,” her voice was wistful and her eyes shined with wonder as she recalled how it felt to bond to a wand.

“What do you think mine will be like?” You wondered, excitement awakening in you thanks to Cecillia’s encouraging words.

The witch took an exaggerated slurp of her tea before answering, “Something curious,” was all she said.

“Insightful,” you murmured and she shrugged unapologetically, her chaotic energy exuding now that she’d started to wake up fully. “What time is it anyway?”

“Half six, your chaperone should be arriving at seven and Olivander’s opens at eight,” she told you before shimmying out of bed, you whined in the absence of your head rest. “You better get dressed. Wear something nice, rumour has it that your tag along is quite the eligible bachelor,” she wiggled her eyebrows and all but floated out of the spare room. It was practically your room by now though, over the years since you’d gotten Astra and met Cecillia you’d stayed in the room on countless occasions. Cecillia embodied something that was something between a second mother, a spiritual mentor, a teasing older sister and a slightly kooky aunt.

“Oh? So do you reckon I should brush my hair then?” You jokingly called out after her only to receive a harsh scoff.

“Absolutely not! Don’t be desperate!” You barked out a laugh at her response, shaking your head and getting ready for the day ahead.

You were just about finished getting ready when a familiar bang sounded from the sitting room. Taking a deep breath, you gave yourself one last look over in the mirror, happy with the outfit you’d chosen, you made your way towards the sitting room to come face to face with your surprise chaperone for the day.

When you shuffled into the sitting room, a smile immediately stretched across your lips upon seeing who had been appointed to stick by your side for the day, “George!” His name left your mouth in a squeal that would’ve been embarrassing had you not been so excited to see him. It’d been upwards of a year since the last time you’d seen George in the flesh and although you’d seen each other in photos and written to each other at a rate that was almost excessive, the prospect of spending time together in person was, for lack of a better word; magical.

George drew his attention away from the framed pictures that lined Cecillia’s fireplace to see you standing in the doorway, looking as bright as the newly risen sun and sporting a smile that he couldn’t quite put into words how it made him feel. It only took a second before his own cheek splitting smile grew on his face, and with it left his hopes of impressing you with his cool and collected attitude. You hadn’t given him too much time to dwell on his ruined cool guy facade as you all but threw yourself into his arms. The red head let out an endearing laugh, catching you in his toned arms, wrapping them tightly around your torso. A scarlet blush rising on his ears when he felt your smile against his neck. “Hello to you too,” he chuckled against your ear and you pulled back enough to look at him, your arms still secure around his shoulders.

“Sorry,” you started, the smile that still adorned your lips telling him that you weren’t all that sorry at all, “Hi,” you greeted, bashfully pulling your arms away from him.

The sitting room was quiet for a moment as the pair of you only stared at each other, would it be too much to tell him that you’ve missed him? You didn’t want to come on too strong after such a long time apart, you’d already tackled him into a hug within the first five seconds, but with that came your next internal question of; did you really want to keep this boy on his toes?

George, having already discarded his notion of acting nonchalant with you, bet you to the punch. He rubbed the back of his neck and flicked his gaze to the floor before bringing it back to you, “I’ve missed you.”

A giggle left your lips before you could think about choking it down, you nodded your head, bouncing slightly on the balls of your feet, “Yeah, I’ve missed you too. Sorry I haven’t written, Astra is still with Harry.”

George gave you a grin, “No worries, darling. Heard you’ve been a very busy little psychic lately.”

Darling, you mused internally, the nickname echoing through your head and causing your heart to somersault in a way you’d never really felt before.

“Oh how sweet,” Cecillia sang from the doorway, a wicked grin on her face as she took in the two hopeless blushing messes, staring doe-eyed at each other in the middle of her living room. “I hate to break up the reunion, my dears, but the pair of you really should get going,” she instructed, strutting up to you and holding a cloth pouch in your direction, “Sirius left you some spending money, it’s different than the money you usually use but I’m sure George will have no problem helping you out,” Cecillia shot the boy a wink and he nodded, once again growing bashful.

“Now,” she grew serious, directing her words at George and making him slightly intimidated with her strong eye contact, “You are to be extremely careful. You are not to mention that Y/n is a seer and you are not to draw any attention to the fact that she is a muggleborn, if Mr. Olivander asks, she’s a half-blood who's been living in the states and that’s why she doesn’t have a wand,” you wore a confused expression, George nodded in complete understanding, “Did Sirius give you the list?”

George nodded once again, pulling a folded piece of parchment out of the back pocket of his slightly baggy denim jeans, “May I take a look?” Cecillia asked, already snatching the parchment from George’s long fingers and unfolding the sheet and reading it aloud, “Alright! A wand… seriously? He used a whole page of parchment just to write one thing?” She grumbled, stomping over to the nearest side table, leaning down and began to scribble on the parchment. You looked to George as she wrote, “Why do you have to say I’m from the States?” You asked quietly and George leaned down slightly to be closer to your ear.

“Witches and wizards in America don’t get wands until they’re of age, we get them here when we’re eleven,” just as he was finished offering his explanation, Cecillia walked back over, a hard look on her face that you weren’t used to seeing, though it seemed that the look was reserved for George.

Silently she handed him the parchment before looking to you, hard look dissolving back into her usual playful expression, “Have fun, lovely.” She then turned to George again, apparently having had enough of trying to intimidate the poor boy, she shot him a smile, “You’ll be taking the floo to Diagon Alley, my fireplace is big enough to take the both of you at once,” she handed George a pouch of what looked like green powder, “George knows what to do, now, not to sound like a broken record but do stay safe and have fun,” she finished, ushering the pair of you into her fireplace. You couldn’t lie, it was quite strange, you supposed you should get used to things coming across as strange, you were about to be exposed to the magical wizarding world for the first time after all. In the fireplace, you stood shoulder to shoulder with George, noticing the nervous look on your face, he slid his hand into yours gently. When you looked at him, he kept his face focused on his feet, “Ready, Y/n?” Taking a deep breath you nodded shakily.

“Ready, George.”

At your words, George slammed the green powder onto the ground and shouted, “Diagon Alley!”

You were sure you were going to be sick. Whatever the powder was, it had you spinning at a pace you didn’t know was possible, you had screwed your eyes shut and you were almost certain that you could feel yourself physically moving. It was only when George tugged on your hand that you opened your eyes to see that your surroundings had actually changed. “It’s horrible the first time, but you get used to it,” George said, pulling you by your still intertwined hands onto the cobbled street. The dizziness died down after only a few seconds out in the fresh air, the added sensation of George’s thumb rubbing soothing circles against your hand seemed to do the trick in settling you completely as you took in the street ahead of you. It was dazzling, really. A long cobbled street, lined with shops that looked like they were plucked straight out of a fairytale. As planned, the streets were fairly empty in the early morning as George led you down the path towards the shop where you’d hopefully get your wand. The name “Olivanders” was written above both windows of the dark shop, the words “makers of fine wands since 382 B.C.” were to be seen just above the door. Excitement had completely overridden your nerves and you practically skipped towards the door, George followed casually behind you, his hands tucked into his pockets and a fond smile on his lips.

“I suppose you’re excited then?” He asked teasingly and you didn’t bother trying to hide your obvious childlike wonder as you waited for him to catch up with you.

“It probably seems silly to you, but this morning Cecillia told me all about when she got her wand and it sounded so wonderful,” you told him, smiling when he bumped his shoulder against yours.

“I don’t think it’s silly, I still get giddy thinking about the time Fred and I got wands of our own,” he pushed the door open and motioned for you to step inside, slowly you walked into the empty shop. It was dark and somewhat dingy but there was something very mystically inclining about it, you could feel the energy and it was utterly exhilarating.

“Wow,” you breathed out, spinning where you stood, gazing at the boxes upon boxes that lined the shelves.

Only a minute passed before an old man stumbled to the front of the shop, smiling at the pair of you from behind the counter, “Ah, Mr. Weasley, it’s good to see you, it’s been some time. What can I do for you this morning? I see you’ve brought a friend,” the older wizard greeted and you smiled in response.

“I’m looking for a wand. I’ve been living in the states for the past few years but I just moved home,” you lied easily, George couldn’t help but smirk, what he’d give to have had you around for some of his and Fred’s pranks at Hogwarts.

The old man nodded in understanding, his eyes scanned you, his eyes were scrutinising and you fought the urge to squirm under his gaze, “Interesting. One moment please,” he said, murmuring to himself as he searched the isles for what he was looking for. A small “aha” sounded from within the isles, he was back in front of you within seconds, an open rectangular box in his hand. It was absolutely gorgeous, it resembled a raw tree branch, wood spiralling up its expanse until it stopped at the top, cutting off in a jagged, dull edge. He must’ve noticed how your jaw dropped, how could he not? He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off you since you’d wandered into his shop. He was an old wizard, but he wasn’t naive, he was well aware you weren’t returning from America, he could sense an energy in you that he hadn’t come in contact with in a long time. “Curious, isn’t it?” He prompted you, causing you to let out an airy laugh. Cecillia was going to tease you big time when you got back to her cabin.

“It’s lovely, what is it?” He offered you the box expectantly and you hesitantly picked up the wand with as much care as you possibly could. It was cool against your skin and was heavier than you’d imagined it would be.

“Thirteen inch, oak; cut from the base of a tree, which at the time, was almost six hundred years old,” he explained, watching happily as you ran your fingers along the wands several ridges,”With a phoenix feather core, quite a rare piece indeed. Unfortunately, this particular wand has been extremely difficult to match to a witch. But something tells me that you might be just the witch for the job,” he held your gaze and you once again got the feeling that he knew something he shouldn’t, “Go on, then. Give it a wave,” he prompted and you looked to George for further encouragement. George laughed at your lost expression, pulling his own wand out and pointing it towards the now empty box on the counter, “Like this, love,” he demonstrated, moving his wrist in a semi-circle motion, making the box levitate off the counter.

Another pet name. You ignored the butterflies in your stomach in favour of clearing your throat, squaring your shoulders and pointing your wand at the same box George had just made float, which was now settled back against the counter. Imitating the boy beside you, you moved your wrist in a swift semi-circle. Suddenly, a golden light poured from the tip of the wand and warm air surrounded you, gently blowing your hair back and forcing a laugh of disbelief to leave your lips. George stood wide eyed beside you, his lips parted slightly. He was amazed really, he went through five wands before he found the one that fit him, yet you’d found yours on the first try, and he had to admit; you looked glorious doing it.

After paying for your wand, you exited the shop, looking around George’s side at the list he was holding. From what you could make out, Cecillia had added a number of items to the originally very short list; 1) a wand, 2) a pendulum (crystal of the ladies choice), 3) crystals: labradorite, lapis lazuli & azurite, 4) mugwort, 5) new tarot deck (again, whatever she wants Sirius can afford it ;)).

“Suppose our next stop is the divination shop,” George said, mostly to himself but gave you a mischievous smile, “If we hurry up and get our shopping done fast we could probably get a butterbeer in before we rejoin the rest of the Order,” he sang, grazing his hand against yours as you walked side by side.

“Beer? You seriously want to drink beer at half eight in the morning?” You asked him, your eyebrow raised and he replied with an exaggerated roll of his eyes and draped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close against his side and once again leaning his head down so his lips were level with your eye.

“No, you git,” he began with a laugh, “It’s not really beer, it’s pretty sweet; most wizards love it.”

You hummed in acknowledgment, “Sounds nice,” you told him absently, preoccupied with all the intriguing shops that surrounded you. George’s arm remained wrapped around your shoulder as you strolled further into Diagon Alley, seemingly uninterested in his offer for a butterbeer. The pair of you got what you needed from the shop and, since it hadn’t taken long, you decided to take George up on his drinks offer. You noticed that he seemed a little bit crestfallen since your noncommittal answer earlier.

“Hey,” you said, bumping your arm against his.

“Hello,” he replied, returning the gesture.

“So… d’you wanna go get one of those beer things that you were talking about earlier?” You asked nervously, your lip between your teeth. For all you knew, asking someone to grab a butterbeer in the wizarding world was the muggle equivalent to proposing.

George flashed you a grin that was almost childlike, it was mesmerising, so sweet and pure and you almost wished you’d brought your camera to take a picture of it. “I thought you’d never ask.”

With a giggle you let him grab your hand and lead you excitedly towards a building that had “The Leaky Cauldron” written above the door. When you got inside, George led you to a small round table with two chairs and you both sat down opposite each other. As casually as you could, you rested your elbow against the table and let your cheek rest against your fist, for a solid few minutes, while George ordered, you curiously looked around the pub until your gaze finally rested on George who was already looking at you with a soft smile, “Having fun?” He asked, genuinely curious.

You nodded your head, “Mhm, are you? I’m sure getting up at the crack of dawn to take me shopping isn’t something someone like you would usually like to do for fun,” you said, becoming slightly self conscious when you realised that he probably wasn’t enjoying the morning as much as you were. This was all normal for him, you’d nearly forgotten.

George gave you a perplexed look, “Course I’m having fun, love. But, what do you mean someone like me?”

You shrugged, once again pushing down the butterflies that arose in your stomach from the pet name, “I dunno, you’re just- you’re mischievous and fun and… I don’t know, shopping for stuff with me doesn’t seem like it’s something you’d want to do. I just hope Sirius didn’t force you into it,” you admitted shyly, smiling gratefully at the waiter when he placed the mugs of golden liquid on the table.

George chewed on his bottom lip for a second before he shook his head, “He didn’t force me. I sort of, well, I sort of forced him to let me take you. He wanted Professor Lupin to do it but I…” he let out an exaggerated sigh before giving you a smile, “I wanted to spend time with you,” he confessed sweetly, watching happily as a smile formed on your lips and you tried to hide it in the rim of your butterbeer. He laughed when your face lit up once the liquid hit your lips, “Like it?”

“This stuff is amazing,” you almost shouted, taking another large sip from the drink, “No wonder you all love it so much.”

George snickered, “Just in case it wasn’t clear; I’m having a lot of fun with you,” he said all too casually, taking a sip of his drink.

“Where to now?” You wondered, after you’d finished your drinks and set off back towards the floo network.

George shot you a cheeky look and wiggled his eyebrows, “I’m taking you back to headquarters.”

“Sounds ominous,” you commented, following him into the fireplace, nervously.

“D’you want a tip?” George asked out of the blue and you looked up at him expectantly, nodding. “The dizziness isn’t as bad if you keep your eyes open,” he whispered, taking your hand once again and throwing down the same green powder from earlier and shouting a new location that you hadn’t heard before. You cringed as the world began to spin, listening to George’s advice hadn’t helped much as the transportation was just as awful as it had been the first time. Unbeknownst to you, you were squeezing George’s hand like your life depended on it, George’s thumb had resumed brushing circles around your hand in response, the harsh squeezing didn’t bother him at all, not when it was you doing the squeezing. Just like earlier, George led you out of the fireplace and into the unfamiliar sitting room. Though the room was completely unfamiliar it was full of faces you immediately recognised, one face in particular standing out above all the rest.

In a second you’d dropped not only George’s hand, but all of your shopping bags to the floor carelessly and hurled yourself towards the boy who had already begun rushing towards you the second he caught sight of you appearing in the fireplace. Your bodies collided with so much force that you nearly sent each other tumbling to the ground, laughter sounded from both of you as you swayed the other, almost roughly, the way you always did when reuniting after an extended period of time.

“Glad to see you in one piece, Harry,” you told him with a cheeky smile on your lips, opting not to call him Haz in front of all of his wizard friends lest they tease him, not to mention you’d become quite possessive of the nickname, you wouldn’t be too pleased if anyone else started adopting it. Not that you’d ever admit that out loud.

“Yeah, you too,” his smile was as wide as could be when he shook his head, “I can’t believe you’re actually here.”

“Do you want me to pinch you?” You teased, jokingly taking his cheek between your thumb and your pointer, giving the skin between them a gentle squeeze. Harry swatted your hand away with a low chuckle and unraveled his arms from around you.

“Alright, you two, if you’re ready we have some matters we need to discuss with our newest member,” Sirius’ voice sounded from behind you, a knowing look on his face as he watched Harry sneakily pinch your arm in retaliation. He had to fight the urge he felt to reminisce on his old school days; when he’d purposely annoy James, Remus or Peter and receive the exact same mockingly vengeful look that you’d just given Harry.

“I’ll bring your things to the kitchen,” George announced, reminding you of his presence before he walked rather quickly out of the room, bags clutched in his hands.

Harry snorted out a laugh when Sirius followed George out of the room, leaving the both of you alone. Harry wiggled his eyebrows and did his best to make his voice take on a sultry tone, “he’s bringing your things to the kitchen.”

“Shut your mouth, Potter,” you replied, pinching his cheek for the second time and tossing your arm around his shoulder, him doing the same as he led you to what you assumed was the kitchen.

“Do I have your permission to open my mouth to tell you something,” Harry asked lightly, stopping so you were both standing outside a closed wooden door.

“I’ll allow it,” you answered, smiling softly at your best friend.

Harry grinned, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Haz,” the boy groaned at the name but made no further comment, he pushed the wooden door open and walked inside.

The room held a long table where many adults were sat, chatting in hushed whispers when you entered the room, some of whom you recognised and some you didn’t. Mrs. Weasley was fluttering about the table, filling people’s tea cups before she spotted you. The woman, who you’d only ever met briefly at King’s Cross station one year, rushed over to you and greeted you warmly, “Hello, dear! Come, come sit down!” She ushered you to a vacant chair beside George and across from Fred, Harry took the seat on your other side. “I trust you got everything you needed from Diagon Alley? I hope that son of mine didn’t cause any trouble for you,” you gave her a friendly smile and shook your head.

“Yes, we were able to find what we needed and George was very helpful,” Mrs. Weasley, seemingly satisfied with your answer, offered a gentle smile to you and George. She then pushed a cup of tea towards you before sitting down herself.

Beneath the table George bumped his knee lightly against yours, but didn’t break from his conversation with his twin as he left his knee pressed against yours. You didn’t draw attention to it either, simply letting your knee relax against his as the witches and wizards at the long table grew quiet in favour of staring at you wordlessly.

“I’m sure you’ve all heard the news of the seer we’ve acquired,” Sirius’ commanding voice broke the silence as he stood up from his chair, and placed his palms against the table, “I’ve brought her here today so that we may discuss proceedings to ensure her safety.”

“Yes,” a toneless drawl, drawn out nasally from the end of the table drew your attention to a black haired man at the opposite end of the table, “and what of Mr. Potter’s presence?” He asked, almost menacingly. Right off the bat, you didn’t like the greasy haired man. He was rigid and his face sported a permanent snarl and from across the table you could already tell; he wasn’t on your side.

“She’s my best friend, I’m here to make sure she’s not going to be put in any unnecessary danger,” Harry told the man shortly, in a tone that he’d more than likely perfected after having spoken to the man previously.

“As touching as that may be,” the older man snarled, “you are not a member of the Order.”

“Oh, enough, Serverus,” Sirius scoffed, pulling his hand down his face in exasperation before he let his eyes settle on Harry, “Perhaps you should wait upstairs for now. We’ll let you know of any significant updates.”

“I’ll tell you everything later, promise,” you whispered quietly, linking his pinky with yours beneath the table before he stropily took his leave.

“As I was saying,” Sirius spared Severus a glare and continued, “As we know, Yn is an unregistered wizard with an unregistered wand, meaning she won’t be on the radar of The Ministry of Magic. On the downside of this, seeing as her power manifested late, she is also untrained.”

All gazes fell to you once more, only Remus’ eyes were staring softly, crinkled at the edges from the smile on his lips, “I’ll be tutoring her in Defence Against the Dark Arts over the summer. She’ll catch up quickly, no doubt,” you smiled gratefully at him from your spot, relaxing a bit knowing that you’d actually be learning how to defend yourself the wizard way.

“I suppose I will be tasked with teaching the art of Occlumency? A seer with an easily accessible mind is hardly an asset,” Severus drawled. You didn’t have a clue what occlumency was, in all honesty, but you kept your mouth shut in favour of asking Remus when the meeting was over.

The meeting soon drew to a close, the older Order members slinking to one end of the table to arrange the schedule for your glorified summer school while you, Fred and George snuck away to find Harry. You found him sitting against the headboard of a bed in one of the upstairs bedrooms, “How’d it go?”

“Take a guess, mate, Snape had a right sour look on his face the whole time,” Fred answered, sitting on the bed across from Harry’s. George sat beside him and you made your way to sit with Harry.

“Ah, so that was the infamous professor Snape?” All three boys nodded, looks of exhaustion on their faces, “I don’t trust him. Something is very off about him,” you spoke thoughtfully and the boys nodded in agreement once again.

“I don’t like the idea of you being alone with him,” George said, his brows furrowed.

Fred snorted and clapped his twin roughly on the shoulder, “Getting a bit jealous are you, Georgie?” Harry laughed along with Fred while you blushed lightly and George felt heat rising up the nape of his neck.

“Sod off,” he muttered, but made no attempt to deny that he was slightly jealous of all the alone time his old evil potions professor would be getting with the girl he was harbouring feelings for.

The afternoon quickly turned into the evening and before long you were gathering your things and preparing to return to Cecillia’s. Harry would be heading back to the Dursley’s later that night, much to his dismay. You told him you’d be back on Privet Drive at some point the next morning since Cecillia would be dropping you home, as she promised your parents, so he wouldn’t have to suffer alone for too long.

That summer came and went in a bit of a blur. Two days in each week were spent learning how to protect yourself against the dark arts with Remus. He’s an amazing teacher, that couldn’t be disputed. In the space of only two months he had you duelling like you’d been doing it since the day you were born. Of course, you were thrilled to be bonding with your wand and developing (according to Remus) a very impressive skill for Defence Against the Dark Arts. But, on top of that, the shared conversations and exchanging of stories over hefty mugs of hot chocolate with the werewolf had been a huge highlight of your summer, and had caused the two of you to grow exponentially closer.

September was nearing and with it came a stiff breeze that prompted the hair on your arms to stand alert as you waited by the bus stop, the one just down the road from your house. Today was to be an important lesson with Remus, he hadn’t told you what the lesson would entail, but he had said that it was a charm that was “of the utmost importance”.

Although June, July and August were technically your summer holidays, you’d barely had a second to rest. You were, at this point, running on fumes and sheer will power. Extensively using magic was bound to wear you out, however, getting a good night’s rest after a gruelling training session had become something of a luxury for you. Visions of the future and retellings of past torments plagued your dreams and allowed you no time to rest. One vision in particular had been reoccurring, it arrived every night for the past two weeks, taunting you. The autumn chill that dripped down your spine reminded you of the premonition, having your hairs standing due to fright, rather than cold. It was always the same, no details ever shifted or warped and, unfortunately, the experience never grew any less harrowing. The warning that the vision brought about weighed on you heavily and followed you around like a stray cat. Images of a cold, desolate, blue-hued cellar lived behind your eyes, the phantom feeling of freezing metal shackles weighed on your wrists painfully and the undiluted terror combined with the indescribable agony brought about by the unfamiliar wand shoved against your throat had you forcing yourself to stay awake until you physically couldn’t anymore, each and every night. Nobody knew about the vision, you didn’t want to worry them, though, you knew that your distress was beginning to become visible; dark bags were prominent beneath your eyes, Harry had watched you fall asleep in the middle of the day, often on his shoulder, almost everyday that week and Remus could tell by the sluggish movements of your wand that your mind was elsewhere.

A few minutes passed before your bus arrived, the journey to Grimmauld Place was quite long but you couldn’t seem to warm up to floo travel, so going on a regular bus was the better option. When the red double decker pulled up, you greeted the driver with a smile and paid for your ticket. You made your way up to the second story and sat right at the front. The bus, as it normally tended to be, was empty. Resting your head against the window, you let your eyes slip shut, the noises of tree branches brushing against the speeding windows lulling you into a, hopefully, peaceful sleep.

Thankfully when you woke up, no visions lingered. You woke up just in time too as the bus was rounding up to your stop. As usual, Remus waited for you at the bus stop, his hands shoved deep in his tattered jacket pockets and a gentle smile on his lips.

Still groggy from your nap, when you exited the bus you greeted Remus with a tired wave.

“Dare I say you haven’t been sleeping well, dear?” He said gently, walking alongside you towards the house.

You thought about it for a second, perhaps telling someone wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world. “I’ve just, well, I’ve been having this nightmare,” you started, growing nervous just thinking about it.

“Nightmare or vision?” He pressed as you walked into the house.

Guilt creeped into your chest upon seeing the clear worry on his face, “I think it’s a vision.”

Remus nodded quietly, placing his hand on the small of your back and pushing you in the direction of the living room. He gave you a warm smile, when you sat down on the sofa. He grabbed a blanket that hung over the back of the sofa and draped it over your lap. “I’ll make us some hot chocolate and we can discuss this,” he suggested.

“I thought you had an important lesson for today?” He only shook his head, smiling lightly.

He made his way to the door wordlessly and returned within two minutes with two big, steaming mugs in his hands. Remus handed you a mug and sat down beside you on the sofa, accepting your invitation to pull the blanket over his lap too.

“Now tell me; what has been going on in that wonderful mind of yours?”

You took in a deep breath, staring into the hot chocolate and avoiding his understanding gaze, “It happened for the first time around two weeks ago. I thought that it was just a dream, it didn’t feel like a dream but I thought that if I kept telling myself it was I would start to believe it,” you started, taking a sip of your drink before going back to staring at it, “But it kept coming back. Every night for the last two weeks. I haven’t been able to sleep, I’ve been too scared to,” your voice was small as you made the confession. You hated that the feeling of helplessness was beginning to wash over you yet again.

“What happens in this vision?” At his question, you placed your cup on the floor and turned to face him fully, turning on the sofa and pulling your knees up to your chest.

“It’s always the same. I wake up and the first thing I know is that I’m absolutely freezing. I’m in this cellar-like thing. I’m chained up by my wrists and my feet are barely touching the ground… I can’t see anyone but I can feel-“ your breath hitched and you rushed the swipe the tears that were falling away from your cheeks, “I can feel a wand against my throat, it’s pressing hard. There’s a whisper, it’s quiet and ghostly and I can barely make it out but I hear them say; crucio.”

Remus’ eyes widened in horror.

“Then I feel nothing but agonising pain and then I wake up,” Remus’ eyebrows furrowed.

“You’ve had this same vision every night?” You nodded.

“I know I should have said something but I didn’t want anyone to worry,” it was then that Remus grabbed your hands and looked at you with a sense of urgency you didn’t know he could possess.

“I need you to listen to me very carefully,” his eyes were wild and his hands shook lightly as they held yours, “You-Know-Who is back. There are already reports of certain Wizards going missing and none of us have any doubt that it’s his doing. And although I- we- care for you a great deal, it would serve us all well to remember that you’re a detrimental piece in this war. If he catches wind of you, he’ll stop at nothing to take you from us,” your heart was now running at the speed of a hummingbird. “We have a plan in place to keep you safe, I fear we may have to implement it sooner than planned.”

Before you knew it, you were surrounded by the entire Order of the Phoenix, all of whom looked grave. Cecillia sat to your right while Nymphadora Tonks occupied the seat to your left. You had the pink haired auror to thank for your duelling capabilities, as well as Remus of course. Her presence was comforting, she made it a point to shoot you a wink every time she caught your eyes looking more fearful than usual.

“Our original plan will need to be tweaked, I ran into Narcissa Malfoy in Diagon Alley and she very plainly insinuated that I was a person of interest in the death eating community,” Cecillia informed the table, a, for lack of a better word, bitchy tone laced in her voice. She’d told you many of her Hogwarts stories, you could recall her telling you that she and the woman she’d mentioned, Narcissa, had once been good friends until around their fourth year. She hadn’t told you what exactly had happened, only that it had been messy.

“What was the original plan?” You asked, growing frustrated with the Order’s lack of communication skills.

Thankfully, being one of the younger members of the group, Tonks understood your frustrations and spoke up on behalf of the group, regardless of whether they were ready for you to know or not; she understood that it was your life they were coordinating.

“We talked about relocating you to CeCe’s. We also, and far more pressingly, planned on erasing all traces of you from both the muggle and wizard world. Which would mean using a memory charm on your family and friends in the muggle world,” Tonks explained, eyes locked on yours while everyone else in the room glared daggers at the purple haired girl.

“Yes. Though we also planned on telling you this information with a far more delicate approach,” Snapped Molly Weasley from the end of the table, causing Fred, who sat to her left, to roll his eyes.

“She’s been riddled with visions of being ruthlessly tortured with an unforgivable curse for the past two weeks. I think the time for delicacy is long passed,” the older of the two twins practically scoffed. George nodded in agreement.

“Besides,” he set his gaze on you, eyes genuine and unwavering as he spoke, “she’s strong enough to handle the truth. It’s time you all stopped acting like she isn’t.”

The table fell silent. His words hung in the air as many of the adults hung their heads.

“By memory charm I’m assuming you mean obliviate?” You broke the silence, if you could you hoped to start an open conversation with the experienced witches and wizards that surrounded you.

“Yes. They’re completely reversible and once the war is over I’ll restore all of the memories.” Cecillia said.

“We know it’s a huge ask, dear, but it’s our best chance at keeping you out of that wretched creature’s hands,” Molly attempted to soothe both you and herself when she pictured what it would like to be in your shoes, how she’d feel if she had no other choice but to be forgotten by the thing she valued the most; her family. Molly Weasley had never been very good at hiding her maternal instincts, over the summer that fact had become glaringly obvious to you. You and Harry had laughed about how the children of Privet Drive had a special place in her heart.

“I understand,” you told her sadly, chewing on the inside of your lip, “I’m guessing by the atmosphere in the room that I won’t be home to say goodbye before you wipe their memories,” you shifted yours eyes from person to person, stopping when Cecillia took your hand firmly in hers.

Her lips were downturned and her eyes filled with guilt, she shook her head mournfully, “I’m afraid we can’t risk it, my darling. Even being here places you in danger at the moment.”

“Where will she go then? If CeCe’s place isn’t an option we’ll have to find a safe house,” Sirius sounded and, simultaneously, both Fred and George stood up, shoulder to shoulder with very professional expressions on their faces.

“We may be able to help with that, actually. George, if you would,” Fred started, nodding to his twin who straightened his shoulders and puffed his chest out over so slightly.

“Thank you, Fred. As you know, we have a property for Weasley Wizard Wheezes secured and we’ll be living in the flat above where the shop will be,” everyone at the table, including yourself, stared at the twins in confusion, not quite sure where they were going with their little pitch until Fred took over again.

“And that flat has three bedrooms,” he said, a smirk growing on his thin lips.

George spoke again, “Which means there’s one for me and one for Fred.”

“Which means there’s one spare,” Fred grinned wickedly.

Tonks let out an impressed laugh once the penny finally dropped, “We apparate her in and nobody would ever know a thing. Nobody other than those of us in the room know that Y/n is a friend of the Weasley’s, plus us visiting the joke shop wouldn’t raise any suspicion. I have to give it to them, it’s a great idea,”

“And one of the two of us will always be within shouting distance if anything happens,” George added, somewhat pleadingly.

Sirius looked across the table at you, “Y/n, it’s up to you. Whatever you decide will be final, we won’t interfere,” he promised sincerely. It was an easy decision, but still, it weighed heavily on your chest. In all honesty, you weren’t worried about your location, staying with the twins would surely be a light and fun time amidst all the doom and gloom. Your worry was that you would, once again, be handing over your control. Sirius dressed it up as though it was your choice, but you knew that this was probably their best option and in reality you really had no other choice than to move in with Fred and George.

“Sounds good to me,” you whispered halfheartedly, eyes dropping to stare at your lap as your teeth pulled anxiously at the skin of your lips.

“So it’s settled then,” Remus said, “Y/n will go with Fred and George tonight.”

Abruptly, you pushed your chair away from the table and stood up. Sparing nobody a glance, you left the room as quickly as you possibly could, before the lump in your throat could choke you or the tears that pooled in your eyes spilled like water through a broken dam. George made a move to rise from his seat only for Remus to stop him by placing his hand on the boy’s shoulder, “Give her a moment.”

You found yourself locked in the second story bathroom, sitting in the bath. Your legs hung out over the side of the tub while your head was tilted back against the black tiled wall. As hard as you tried to prevent them, tears were streaming down the expense of your cheeks, neck and beneath the neckline of your shirt. The minutes ticked by yet your chest continued to rise and fall rapidly due to the sobs that shook it, your breath uneven. Visions of brutal torture were bad enough when you were in your own home, in your own warm bed, with your parents just a room away and ready to make you a hot cup of tea after you woke up screaming. Now, the visions would without a doubt continue to plague you, unlike before though, you wouldn’t be waking up in a familiar setting, nor would you fall asleep in the comfort of your own mattress, when you woke up screaming so loud that your throat grew raw, your comfort would rely on two seventeen year old boys who seldom took things seriously. It’s not that you didn’t trust them, no, you trusted them with your life- you are trusting them with your life, it’s just that there was already a lot going on in your mind at the moment, moving in with your crush and his identical twin brother isn’t exactly your idea of a nerve killer.

A knock against the bathroom door pulled you from your thoughts. You rushed to wipe your tears with your sleeves, sniffling, “Come in,” you choked out. Cursing your voice for breaking when you spoke.

Remus’ head poked through the door, his body following soon after. Even in an atmosphere as dense as this one, a sense of gentle calm always followed Remus wherever he went. Clumsily, the werewolf slid into the bath beside you with a low “oof” sound, mimicking your position with his much longer legs dangling closer to the wooden floor than your own.

“CeCe has gone to collect your things for you and get Harry, then, I believe, perform the spell,” he eyed you cautiously, hyper aware of your glassy eyes and puffy face. When your eyes widened and you whipped your face towards him, his stomach twisted into knots, he hated seeing you like this. He could sympathise with your feelings. When James and Lily were killed, and Sirius went to Azkaban and even when Peter was presumed dead, Remus had been left with a vicious frustration fuelled by his belief that he was utterly powerless in his own life. He could see in your eyes that that same notion was starting to creep up on you too.

“Already?” You gasped out, pulse rising again, a slight panic setting in. “It won’t hurt them will it? The spell?” You fretted, looking pleadingly to the man beside you.

He shook his head, tenderly taking your hand and placing it against his clothed chest, his beating heart present against the palm of your shaking hand. “I promise you that they won’t feel a thing. They will go on living an exciting life, travelling, seeing the world safely while you’re away. When this is all over we’ll place their memories of you back in their minds and it will be as though you were never gone.” Your teeth found the inside of your cheek again, gnawing relentlessly at the skin as you failed miserably to hold back a fresh set of tears. Remus squeezed the hand he held against his chest. “Let it out, Y/n. It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone,” he whispered, heart sinking lower when your bottom lip quivered and you let a rasped sob leave your body. With a deep sigh, Remus used the hand he was already holding as leverage to pull you into him, wasting no time he enveloped you in his arms, holding you securely as you cried against his chest. Admittedly, it felt good to let it out, Remus’ hand rubbed soothing circles against your heaving back and eventually, you didn’t know how long it had been, you calmed down, your tear ducts all dried out.

Remus held you in his arms for a while longer, even though you’d stopped crying, he could feel your body as it continued to shake. “I can’t promise you it will all be okay, but I can assure you that myself and Sirius, and everyone else for that matter, will be there for you at the drop of a hat; whatever you need,” he spoke against your hair.

“Whatever I need?” You echoed, the pit in your stomach ever growing.

“Of course,” he confirmed.

Remus startled slightly when you suddenly tore yourself away from him. As best you could in your awkward position, you turned to face him and grabbed his hands with as much urgency as he had done with yours. “I need you to do something for me,” Remus furrowed his brows in confusion, but nodded his head anyway.

“If anything happens to me… Don’t make them remember,” you instructed, maybe the request would’ve seemed radical if you had said it to anyone else, but you knew that Remus had experienced losses like no one else you knew, perhaps Harry came close but even his shortcomings couldn’t compare to Remus’. “It’d only cause them pain. If I die and they’re happily living none the wiser, leave them be, please,” the man let out a heavy sigh and took a moment to take you in. Your eyes were hard yet pleading, they left him no room to negotiate and he understood perfectly where you were coming from.

“Alright,” he agreed before raising his eyebrow and readjusting himself to get a better look at you, “However you should know; no matter what may come of this war, none of us will forget about you. In such a short time you’ve given us so much… you gave Harry his first friendship, a friendship that he cherishes more than anything in the world, I might add. You saved Sirius from death, my fiancé and Harry’s godfather. Mentoring you has given Cecillia a new lease of life and Molly Weasley one more child to knit jumpers for at Christmas,” he took a brief pause then went on, “For the sake of saving time I won’t even begin to tell you what you mean to the twins. My point is;” there was a melancholic type of smile on his face when he paused again, as if he was imagining what it would be like to remember you fondly if you did in fact die for the cause, “What you’re asking is incredibly selfless. And while your mother and father may not remember how wonderful you are, we all will.” Remus chuckled lowly when you shuffled your way back into his arms, squeezing his middle tightly. He slung his arm around your shoulders and delicately pressed his lips to the top of your head. You held so much love in your heart for the man who was currently cradling you in his arms. You debated telling him, you weren’t sure if it was entirely appropriate but after the speech he’d just given you couldn’t have cared less, “Remus?”

“Hm?”

“I love you,” you murmured, looking up at him innocently.

He offered you a toothy smile and breathed out a soft laugh, “I love you too.” With a content nod, you rested your head back against his chest, enjoying his soothing heartbeats against your ear. A melodic hum rumbled against your cheek, a quiet giggle left your mouth when you recognised the melody to the song he was humming. The tune of “Rhiannon” by Fleetwood Mac floated through the bathroom bringing a genuine smile to your lips. The werewolf’s humming was interrupted by another knock against the bathroom door, whoever was knocking didn’t wait for a response before entering the room. Sirius stepped in and quietly shut the door behind him. He didn’t question you and Remus' position in the bath but simply slid into the tub on the other side of you, sandwiching you between himself and Remus. The black haired man let out a heavy sigh and leaned his head back against the tiles.

“The mother hens downstairs are worrying up a storm,” he said in exasperation, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Tonks so riled up about someone’s safety. I tasked Molly with making you some hot chocolate to keep her occupied”

“Maybe I should go back down…” you muttered halfheartedly, begrudgingly peeling yourself away from Remus’ warm body.

Sirius gave you an apologetic look, “I held them off for as long as I could.”

“Thanks,” you whispered, bumping your shoulder to his, making him chuckle. After pulling yourself out of the bath, rather clumsily, you took a second to check yourself over in the mirror.

“You’re glowing, darling,” Sirius all but sang from behind you and you couldn’t stop the slight snort that escaped you.

“That’s one way to put it.”

“If you don’t believe me go on downstairs and ask George what he thinks,” Sirius teased, wiggling his eyebrows and receiving a light shove from his fiancé who couldn’t hide his grin.

“Leave her alone, love,” he chastised weakly, “You look perfectly fine, Y/n. Go downstairs and get something to drink, you need to rehydrate.” A bittersweet smile broke out on your lips, his fatherly tone simultaneously soothed you and left you yearning for what you were in the process of losing. Trying not to dwell on the sad fact, you left the bathroom and slowly descended the stairs.

As you assumed, the second you stepped back into the kitchen, Molly began to fret over you as if her life depended on it. Sipping on the hot chocolate she’d given you, you were reminded of how desperately tired you were. All the crying hadn’t helped ease the heaviness in your eyes either. Every bone in your body felt heavy for that matter, you were struggling to even hold your head up.

“You can lean against my shoulder if you’d like,” George’s voice broke you from your hazed state, you’d completely forgotten he was sitting beside you despite his leg that was pressed against yours beneath the table. You gave him a sleepy but grateful smile, as subtly as you could you scooched closer to the ginger and slotted yourself against his side, letting your head fall onto his shoulder. “Will you keep me awake until Harry and Cecillia get here?” You requested in a slurred murmur, your eyes fluttering between open and shut.

“Of course,” was all he said, he looked down at you adoringly, smiling like an idiot when you nuzzled into his shoulder, your nose rubbing against his neck. Try as he might, George couldn’t pull his eyes away from your drowsy face. “What do you propose we do?”

You shrugged your shoulders lightly, “Just talk.”

“How would you like your new room decorated?” He asked quietly, his head tilted down while he spoke to you, so you could hear him and so he wouldn’t ruin the lulled bubble you’d managed to obtain between you by talking too loudly. A sweet smile grew on your face, a smile that all but knocked all the breath out of George’s lungs when you angled your head to make eye contact.

“Can I have a double bed?” George snorted at your question and shook his head no.

“Nothing smaller than a king. What else?”

You pretended to ponder for a moment, “Can we paint it?” The ginger nodded, taking his bottom lip between his teeth.

“If you want to,” he started, almost sounding nervous, “We could paint it together?” Even in your sleep deprived state you hadn’t missed the vulnerability in his voice, it was the same vulnerability that you’d noticed when he’d asked you to go get a butterbeer with him a couple of months ago.

“I’d love that,” you told him, your answer causing his lips to twist into a pleased smile, “How do you feel about the colour green?”

Immediately, his smile dropped and he let out a disgusted scoff, “Green is a Slytherin colour.”

“You keep forgetting that I don’t get the whole house sorty thing,” you reminded him, not happy with his reasoning for hating your favourite colour. “Besides, I love green, it’s my favourite colour.” You told him truthfully. Not content with his disgruntled facial expression you began to defend your preference, “A lot of beautiful things are green; you’ve got grass, trees, emeralds- did you know that emeralds are really useful for enhancing psychic abilities? It also evokes clarity of thought,” you rambled, willing yourself to be quiet when you registered George’s fond expression.

The look of endearment aimed at you brought butterflies to life in your stomach, effectively waking you up somewhat.

“Do you have any emerald?” He asked, you assumed he was only feigning interest, you didn’t know that he could’ve listened to you go on and on about anything and everything for the rest of his life.

“No, not yet. I should probably get some though.” You said through a yawn. Your breath against his neck made him giggle, it was pure and unsuspecting but you took note of it. Everything about George Weasley felt like sunshine to you, his laugh filled your chest with warmth whenever you heard it, his eyes found yours like a lighthouse, guiding your lost mind back to the present each time your gazes connected. His voice, like his laugh, warmed you up when you were cold, giving you a reason to stay awake when you’d rather just slip away. In conjunction with the sun, even if you couldn’t physically see him, you never doubted that he was always there. As well as all of that, like your favourite tarot card; The Sun, he signified good things, hope that hard times will end with you on top, contentment and happiness. While your thoughts consisted of George’s similarities to the sun, his were consumed with the, in his mind, overwhelmingly cheesily romantic notion that you were the moon and the stars, he would’ve cringed if he didn’t wholeheartedly believe it. Everything that made the night sky magnificent was reflected in you. Like the stars, you were mysterious and captivating. Nothing seemed to compare to your glow or beauty, if you were to ask him what he preferred; you or the night sky on a clear night, he’d happily ignore a blank, starless sky in favour of simply staring at you as you went on tangent after tangent about crystals or tarot cards.

The pair of you were pulled from your musings when Harry rushed through the kitchen door looking unmistakably heartbroken, ever the empath when it came to his best friend, Harry’s heart sank the moment he laid eyes on your form, limp against George’s side. The second you saw him you all but ripped yourself from George’s side and the older redhead felt a surge of irrational jealousy begin to build in his chest at how fast you left his hold in favour of the chosen one. He knew it was ridiculous, he’d heard the way each of you respectively talked about each other, at this point you were practically siblings. But he supposed it was rational to be jealous when you liked someone the way he liked you.

Quickly, you crossed the room to Harry who had his arms already outstretched. He knew you were emotionally exhausted when you didn’t bear hug him. You meekly slid your arms beneath his open zip-up hoodie, tucked your head beneath his chin and didn’t say a word. “I shouldn’t bother asking if you’re okay then,” Harry muttered to himself, leaning his cheek against the top of your head and wrapping his lanky arms around your frame.

“Did Cecillia remember to bring Astra?” You asked, it was all you wanted to know about the night’s events.

“She’s in her cage in the living room, darling,” Cecilia said, walking into the room looking guilty.

“C’mon, let’s go have a chat,” Harry suggested, leading you out of the kitchen and upstairs to his unofficial room. Once inside the room you sat down on the edge of the bed, the blue duvet softly creasing beneath you. Harry plopped himself down beside you and offered you a gesture that was always saved for when either of you felt the other was on the edge of something dangerous. Your hands rested against your lap and he deftly slid his pinky over yours, intertwining your two littlest fingers. It was such a familiar experience; he’d done it when your grandparents died, when you’d cried over failed exams that you worked hard for, and in turn, you did it for him when he’d felt as though he had no place in the world, when he’d open up about his parents and when Cedric died and the ministry dragged his name through the mud you’d find your pinky tangled with his almost every night after he’d sneak over to your place after another nightmare or panic attack. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head, ��Not tonight. I don’t want to cry anymore,” you croaked out, looking straight ahead of you at the grey painted wall.

“I understand,” he said, sighing and dropping his head onto your shoulder, “Let’s talk about something else then.”

“Like what, Haz?”

Harry snorted out a chuckle, “Like the way George looked like he wanted to hex me when you left him to come to me,” he teased, a smug lilt to his voice.

“He wasn’t teasing me, perhaps I’ll go back to him,” you grumbled, ignoring Harry’s childish giggles.

“Yeah you’d like that wouldn’t you?” You smacked his arm lightly with your free hand, doing a bad job of containing giggles of your own. “Don’t worry, since he’s going to be your new roommate there will be plenty of time for “oh George I’m so sleepy, please hold me until I fall asleep”,” you let out a cackle at Harry’s terrible impression of your voice, laying your cheek against his wild hair.

“That is so not what was going on, Haz,” you defended with a tiny smile.

Harry let out an airy, disbelieving chuckle, “Then what was going on?”

“He just said I could lean on him until you and Cecillia arrived and we just started chatting about how I wanna decorate my room,” you explained truthfully and Harry nodded.

“Riveting,” he mumbled sarcastically. Despite his snarky comment, the boy removed his head from your shoulder and pulled you against his chest. “Jokes aside, I’m glad you’re staying with him, I know he’ll look after you for me,” you rolled your eyes at the sentiment.

“I don’t need to be looked after,” you reminded him, looking up at him with a chastising smile.

He rolled his eyes right back at you, jostling you slightly in his arms, “No. But you like to be.”

You threw your head back in laughter, “Yeah, I suppose I do.” You did. You quite like both doting on people and being doted on, you’d grown up in an affectionate family so it was no wonder really.

“It’s getting late. We should get you settled into your new home,” Harry announced, pulling himself and you up from the bed, “I wasn’t going to say anything but you look terrible. You need sleep.”

“Thank you, Harry. Just what every girl wants to hear before moving in with her crush,” you joked, gently hitting your hip against his.

The kitchen was quiet when you returned, it seemed everyone had grown tired from the dramatic events of the evening.

“Ready to go then?” Fred asked, his coat already on and a handful of your bags in his hands.

“As I’ll ever be I suppose.”

After saying goodbye to everyone you, Fred and George traveled to their apartment by floo, to your dismay. The apartment was bare as they’d only just moved in but you could see it had lots of potential for becoming a cozy home for the twins.

As your first night in your new residence began, your aching eyes and tired mind didn’t leave you with any time to dwell on current events, the second your head made contact with the pillow you were out like a light. A dreamless slumber welcomed you for a while until your peace was broken by the all too familiar nightmare.

The first thing you recognised was the burn coming from your wrists. Shackles adorned them and effectively held your hands high above your head, stretching them uncomfortably. Goosebumps painted the expanse of your arms and legs, due to the freezing temperature in the nondescript cellar. A feeling of hopelessness planted firmly in your chest, the feeling only hightening when the familiar echo of footsteps, heavy and loud, drifted from the corridor outside of your field of vision. You knew who was approaching, you’ve lived this before, and so, you held your lip between your teeth and squeezed your eyes shut. The face of the dark wizard who always brought about your intense suffering was, for the most part, completely fuzzy, unrecognisable, featureless and bone-chillingly terrifying. You’d learned over the last two weeks of having this vision that it was less harrowing if you closed your eyes.

“I’ll ask you once more,” The voice was distorted, like it was being heard through a weedy radio, ominously unplaceable, “Where is he?”

You held no control over your voice, as was the norm during visions, as you felt and heard yourself reply, “I’ll tell you once more; I’d sooner die then sell him to you.” You felt your teeth gritting and your jaw clenching while you spoke. Jaw only tightening when the pointed tip of the wizard’s wand stabbed unforgivingly against the column of your neck.

“And die you will, my dear. But not yet-“ your eyes sealed themselves shut and you did your best to shake yourself out of the vision before what you knew was coming took place, as usual, your attempts were fruitless, “-Crucio.” Just like that your body was consumed by pain, the likes of which you’d never imagined possible, until you couldn’t even register yourself screaming anymore.

You bolted upright, clutching at the sheets of your new bed. Laboured breaths left your mouth and you aimlessly gripped at your neck, where the wand had been pressed, and let the tears spill freely. Momentarily disoriented, you’d forgotten where you were. Deep, heavy bursts of air left your mouth as you hastily scurried out of bed and towards the door. Somewhat aimlessly, you gravitated to the door across the hall. A yellow hue seeped from under the frame into the otherwise dark hallway. Light flooded the hall once you managed to fumble the handle down and pull the door ajar, a discombobulated ginger greeting you with half lidded eyes, obviously having been dozing off before you disturbed his peace.

“Sorry,” you rasped once your peace of mind returned to you and you realised where you were. Despite knowing that you shouldn’t have been standing numbly in his doorway, your feet seemed to be rooted in place, you couldn’t have walked away if you wanted to.

“S’alright,” George called out to you softly, sitting up in his bed, his back against the headboard. “You can come in, you know.”

Shutting the door behind you, you nervously shuffled into the room, stopping when you reached the side of his bed. George’s eyes roamed your face and he took notice of your still somewhat panicked expression, he drew his covers to the side and patted the empty space by his side. Something that always intrigued you was people’s preferred side of the bed, some people gravitated towards the left while others were more biased towards the right, but George Weasley? He slept right in the middle. The twin slept with a huge number of pillows, to the point where it was almost laughable, many of which you could only guess he’d smuggled from the Burrow.

Far too wound up to save face, you slid into his bed and didn’t shy away when he guided you into his side and tucked you tenderly beneath his lean arm. His embrace offered a greatly appreciated warmth as the chill of the dank dungeon always lingered long after the vision itself was over.

“What’re you doing up so late?” You asked, your voice gravelly. As you spoke, George effortlessly shuffled your body and his down so that your backs were resting on the mattress and not the headboard. Your head found it’s home against George’s shoulder and your hair was being tentatively twirled between his fingers.

“It’s our first night actually sleeping here. I couldn’t get to sleep,” he explained, his voice low and laced with fatigue. “I’m not really used to having my own room. It’s strange not hearing Freddie snoring or breathing.”

“I get that,” you whispered, “it’s quite comforting knowing for certain that someone is there with you.”

George nodded then. His eyes were glued to your face and he hadn’t even registered his own thought process before his lips were pressing delicately against your forehead. Today had appeared to be the day for laying all your cards out on the table, yourself and George hadn’t danced around your feelings for each other half as much as you usually did when you’d be in each other’s presence. Neither of you had the energy anymore, besides, if today’s events proved anything it was that; things were getting seriously messy as the war built momentum and it was clear that time was something that could very well be running out.

“Yeah,” he regarded you carefully, a little grin growing on his lips, “It is.”

A comfortable silence overtook the room. George’s twirling of your hair never ceased, every now and then his fingers would ghost over your shoulder and you’d catch yourself smiling against the cotton of his shirt as your eyes grew tired enough that they were close to falling shut.

Just as you were working up the motivation to lift yourself up and trudge back to your own bed, George spoke, “You can sleep here if you want, with me,” there was that innocent vulnerability again. There was never an ulterior motive when it came to him, he did things purely for the sake of making others happy, if he felt he could make a difference he simply needed to. Especially when it came to you, he realised.

“You don’t mind?” You asked, daring to peek up at him.

“Course not. I could use some company anyway.” He reassured you, his lips returning to your forehead, only this time the action held far more intention. “You don’t snore do you, love?”

You snorted out a giggle, looking up at the ginger cheekily, mischief dripping from your little grin that forced George’s heart to stutter rather violently and he hoped you hadn’t noticed. “No. But I drool.”

George’s face contorted, his nose scrunching up adorably in disgust, “Do you really?”

“Suppose you’ll have to find out, won’t you?” You teased and he sighed deeply, his disgruntled expression melting into a soft, adoring smile.

“I should’ve expected this, I knew you couldn’t have been completely perfect,” he said, mockingly sorrowful.

You scoffed, pushing his chest lightly, “You’re doing a lot of sweet talking tonight, Mr. Weasley,” you told him and he shrugged innocently.

“Just wanted to see you smiling again, darling.”

“Yeah, well, you’re doing a good job,” you assured him, the bashful yet tired smile that stretched your lips as you gazed up at him proved that you meant what you’d just said. “I like it by the way, the sweet talking.”

At your words, a huge, shit eating smirk grew on the boy’s freckled face. He managed to rearrange your bodies so that you were still tucked under his arm but you were now facing each other at eye level. “I knew it,” he proclaimed cockily.

You raised a challenging eyebrow, biting back a smirk, “Oh did you?”

George nodded pridefully, “‘Course I did. You see, I’m a little bit psychic,” his words forced a booming laugh from your lips, your cheeks hurting from the smile he’d orchestrated.

You shook your head, smile never dulling as you let out a chastising whisper, “oh sod off.”

“I love your smile,” he said suddenly, his eyes widened in horror when he realised he’d uttered the words out loud. The world could’ve stopped in that moment and you wouldn’t have noticed, all you could take in was George’s face, his eyes searching yours for something.

Carefully, you slid from hand from his chest to his red, blushing face. You cupped his cheek gently, moving your thumb against his cheek bone, almost swooning where you lay when he nuzzled against your touch. Working up some Gryffindor courage, George mimicked your movement, removing his arm from around your shoulder and bringing his palm to rest against the curve of your jaw.

As you stared at each other, you weighed up the pros and cons of telling him that you were completely head over heels for him. Your decision, apparently taking far too long, was made for you when George tugged you impossibly closer to him.

“I wasn’t going to tell you… you’ve had so much going on I didn’t want to overwhelm you,” he said, brown eyes boring into your soul.

“Tell me what?”

He took a deep breath, preparing himself for every possible outcome that may spring once the words on the tip of his tongue are spoken aloud, “That I love you.”

[rhenuvee]

Fred Weasley Fluff Alphabet

A/N: Seen a lot of these so I decided to do one of my own. And yes I do know there are different versions of the fluff alphabet but I chose this one, hope it’s ok. 

Warnings: Swearing

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A = Admiration (what do they absolutely adore about you?)

Fred adores your laugh and smile. Making people laugh was always his forte, so seeing that beautiful smile of yours makes it 10x better. If you’re lucky you might catch him blushing at your reaction, but he’ll never admit it.

B = Body (what is their favorite part of your body?)

This sounds weird but your head/face lol. 1. He likes to rest his chin on top of your head, or lean on yours at least. 2. Going back to A he loves your smile and 3. He loves it when you rest your head on him, whether it be his chest or shoulder, he’ll also kiss your temple. 

C = Cuddling (how do they like to cuddle?)

Would rather be the big spoon with his arms cradling your waist, bringing you closer to his body. Gives head pats, and whispers sweet nothings to lull you to sleep. Lowkey though, likes being the little spoon. You can only catch him like that if he’s too exhausted to think, and ends up just collapsing into your arms to sleep. Oh yeah, George is probably tired of seeing this.

D = Dates (what does their ideal date with you look like?)

Definitely tries to bring you somewhere or experience something new each time. But generally, if there was a place that made you significantly happier, he would take a mental note of that place and bring you there again sometime. I can picture trips to the beach, amusement parks/fairs, and maybe some sport like skiing or snowboarding, or maybe even just tobogganing (if you have snow).

E = Emotions (how do they express emotion around you?)

I don’t think Fred’s one to hide his emotions in the first place. I think most of the time he’d just be open and honest with himself. If he was feeling upset, though he might shut others out, he knows he’s calm when he’s with you. So once he feels like his head is clear again, he’ll talk it out with you.

F = Family (do they want one? If they do, when?)

Definitely wants a family in my opinion. The idea of mini you and/or mini him is something he’s always wanted. Probably wants kids once you guys are married. After that, he cannot wait to have a family with you.

G = Gifts (how do they feel about gift giving? What are their habits when it comes to this?)

I don’t see Fred as going all out with gifts, but occasionally will spoil you (like on your birthday for example). He likes giving and receiving gifts, though most likely isn’t his primary love language. 

H = Holding Hands (when/how do they like to hold hands?)

Holds hands whenever you’re walking together- yes I’m sorry, you’ve become that annoying couple that occupies half the hallway and has a walking speed slower than a turtle. But other than that, likes holding your hands out of reassurance, whether it’s him ensuring you’re going to be okay or vice versa. 

I = Injury (how would they act if you got hurt?)

Small injury? Asks if you’re okay and stuff like that for the first three seconds, then it’s right back to teasing about how clumsy you are. Big injury? Definitely tries to stay by your side as much as he can, might make light jokes to make you laugh.

J = Jokes (do they like to joke around with or prank you? how?)

Yes of course, who do you think he is. We all know he does all jokes of the sort, but more common ones for you that I can picture are things like scaring you in the hallways, and a lot of teasing to make you flustered. Might’ve pranked you once or twice with his WWW products- never again by how much you looked like you were gonna beat his ass (unless you like being pranked then you do you). 

K = Kisses (how do they like to kiss you?)

I feel like he likes longer kisses more. If you have alone time together, you bet your butt he will not stand for a simple peck. Once again- yeah you’re the annoying couple. Only gives small kisses if you’re saying bye to depart to different classes? Stuff like that.

L = Love (how do they show you they love you?)

He shows love through his loyalty. He’d never fight or abandon you if you weren’t at your best. He knows that leaving or ignoring a situation isn’t going to fix it, so he’d rather stay with you and figure it out together.

M = Memory (favorite memory together?)

His favourite memory was when you jumped into his arms when you went to his shop for the first time. You both had been apart, sending letters as much as you could, and now you finally are able to see each other again. He loved the look on your face when you saw the shop and when you said how proud you were of him.

N = Nicknames (what do they call their s/o?)

Love, darling, princess, doll. Will also call you those really ridiculous ones.

O = On cloud 9 (what are the like when they’re in love? Is it obvious? How do they express their feelings?)

I’d say he’s obvious when he’s in love. At first it might be the fact he’s more touchy with you, as in things like bumping your shoulder or patting your head. He expresses his feelings just by showing you any signs of affection. 

P = PDA (Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or do they get shy when others are watching?)

Yep, pretty upfront about your relationship, I can’t see him having those secret ones. There is rarely a time where people won’t see him latched onto you unless you’re in separate classes, at work, etc. Brags from time to time, mostly to 1. make you flustered and 2. as a comeback when Ron keeps asking why you would choose Fred. Does not get shy, unless George teases him about him being clingy. 

Q = Quality Time (how do they like to spend time with you?)

He just likes talking with you. He likes hearing your voice. You don’t have to be up and running about to have a good time with Fred. He likes talking, and your reactions to his stories. He also likes listening to whatever funny moment happened to you- he wants to feel included and laugh at the joke too.

R = Rhythm (what song reminds you of them?)

Errrr the songs I listen to don’t really correspond to Fred’s personality, so sorry if it might not be the songs you like or you think match him. But the one that comes to mind is Talk Too Much by COIN.

S = Secrets (how open are they with you?)

I’d say 90% open with you.. He doesn’t really see anything he has to hide from you, and again he likes telling you things. Burped loudly in charms class? He’ll tell you. As for the 10%, comes from his own insecurities. Sometimes there are things he feels iffy about, but as long as you’re willing to, you can talk it out and comfort him.

T = Time (how long did it take you to get together?)

Really depends who you are to him at first. If you’re already friends, maybe a month at most of teasing and matchmaking from your friends and his friends will make you get together. 

U = Upset (how do they act when you’re upset?)

He’ll do anything to get you smiling again. Sometimes he may act a little clueless, so he’ll just come over to you and hold you tight to his chest. Fred will let you vent, cry, whatever you need without judgement. He prefers if you communicate with him to discuss what’s upsetting you, but if you need time he’ll wait however long.

V = Vaunt (what are they proud of? Do they like to show you off?)

As a joke he always says he’s proud of the fact you’re able to keep up with his energy. But in reality he’s proud of your ability to stand up for yourself, and not take anyone else’s bull. Of course he likes to show you off- would definitely love those moments that you both get in the groove and bounce jokes off each other and make everyone laugh.

W = Warrior (how do they feel about you fighting? Would they fight for you, beside you, etc?)

Would rather you not fight, but shamelessly finds it hot when you roast some dude who’s being an asshole. If it was for a serious reason then he wouldn’t want you to fight, and would rather he take care of it instead.

X = X-Ray (how well are they able to read you?)

Pretty well I’d say. Overall your relationship is easy going, and you two fit like puzzle pieces so there’s little to no problems. However, there might be specific times when it takes a while for him to realize you’ve not been feeling well. For example, hiding your feelings. He’d rather you two communicate.

Y = Yes (how would they propose to you?)

Even though Fred can be boisterous, I can’t see him proposing in front of people. Would definitely go overboard with wherever location he chooses though. And yeah, thousands of hugs and kisses right after so no need to worry.

Z = Zen (what makes them feel calm?)

He’s calm when he can tell you’re happy, and also if you start to feel less insecure about yourself (not forcing obviously). Also feels calm when you’re with him, or at least near him. Is the most at ease when you’re in his arms, snuggled up to him in bed, and him stroking your cheeks.

[bluegreenandpurple]

Game Night

Hey there! I've been tagged by @bavalon18 to write a drabble for the HPRomione Discord Popcorn and my prompt was: revenge.

I'll tagg @mina-roman and your promt is: "you better stop rambling and do what you came to do"

I think this is T rated, as it doesn't have adult content but be warned there is a bit of cursing and suggestive talk.

And now, up with the drabble!! I hope you enjoy!

............

Game Night

“A cauldron! A cauldron in your head? Neville at potions! No? er… the Bubble-Head Charm?... shit, shit… holy shit, Rosie, I don’t know what the hell is that! What are you- are you floating? Yeah? A… A ghost? Are you a ghost with a Bubble-Head Charm?”

“Time!”

“IT’S AN ASTRONAUT, DAD!! A sodding astronaut!”

“Language, Rose!”

“An anstrunaut? How was I supposed to know? That can't be a word!” Ron asked befuddled, searching for support from the rest of the lot.

“Blimey, dad, is not! As-tro-naut is, though.” Answered Rose, frustrated.

“As-tro- what?” Asked Ron, but Rose wasn’t listening anymore, she was already on her way to the couch peaking the score notepad from the centre table. So he looked at his wife. “Wasn’t this supposed to be the easy version of the game?”

“It is, love. We're playing only with professions and occupations.” Hermione answered, then jested, “But we could try objects and animals if-”

“Ohh! Come on! You can’t recover from this! Dad, we’re losing five to eighteen!”

“Ha! regretting something Rosie?” Hugo was poking teasingly at her ribs.

“Oh, you... shush it, Hugo!” As Rose began to shove her brother’s hands away, Hermione leaned back on the couch, crossing her arms.

“Maybe this will show you not to underestimate your mother’s capabilities at games, Rose.” At this, everyone froze and turned to look at Hermione whose face has been completely morphed into the smuggest smirk ever displayed in the Granger-Weasley household.

“Are you - Nooo? Are you jealous that she chose me?”

“Oh, don’t be mum. I absolutely regret it.” Complained Rose, dropping herself on the couch whilst tossing the notepad to the centre table. Ron looked at her and faked a stab in the chest.

“Don’t worry dad. I’ll be glad to team up with you next time.” Hugo claimed proudly.

“Then you can have him next week.” Smirked Rose.

“Well, I’ll be glad.” Said Hugo, cheerfully high five-ing his dad, then sniggered, “Who needs a high score? I could watch you all night trying to guess ‘Bubble-Headed ghost’!!”

“Oi! You little brat!” Ron had taken Hugo by the hips, tumbling him onto the couch, attacking him with a mix of tickling and punching.

“Now you both know that your dad is not the only one that can be fun. It’s a shame you won’t be here next week to see him lose. Although, we could change the day so you can play before you leave for school.”

“Nah, that wouldn’t be fair. Game night is game night.” Quipped Ron, now holding Hugo at arm's distance with a hand in his face.

“You just don’t want to lose again!” Came the muffled sound of Hugo’s voice at the same time that Rose pointed at his dad and exclaimed. “Such a bad loser, dad. You should be a good example for us!”

“I think defeat has confounded you, Rosie, that's your mum.” He waved nonchalantly.

“Well then, Weasley.” Hermione sat up and challenged, “As we can’t play charades just the two of us, let’s try another game, you can choose. I’ll play whatever you pick next week. Not only play, mind. I’ll win.”

“I see... you’re so full of yourself now, are you? We’ll play by my rules, then.” Replied Ron, amused.

“Woah, now wish I could be here next week!” Muffled Hugo, still trapped.

“Don’t worry Hugo. What I have in mind, you wouldn’t want to see.”

-----

“Well then, Ronald. I’m ready. Tell me, what game did you choose? I can't stand your ridiculous sniggers and tease anymore.”

“We’ll see if you keep the arrogance when you know, love.”

“Just...spill it out.”

“Please, get comfortable, m'lady,” gushed Ron, leading Hermione to a couch before sitting himself across her. She was gazing at him quizzically, so he crossed his arms and jerked his head to point at the wool box that was on the centre table.

“Chess? Predictable, Ronald,” she teased, but her smirk morphed into a frown when Hermione noticed something in the box. “Is this my father’s chess set? Why do you- “

“Oh, that. I didn’t really fancy my pieces perving over my wife” he jested.

“What do you… why will I be… ” she mused. Ron waited patiently until Hermione lifted her face and locked his eyes with her and with a deep voice, he added.

“We’re not playing just chess, love. We are playing strip chess.” He leaned forward, never breaking eye contact, and huskily repeated, “Strip. Chess.”

Hermione’s gaze ignited with something between desire and amusement and Ron felt a certain southern part of him react to his wife’s expression. As Hermione pondered the implications of this little game, she felt a jolt of excitement not just because of the most evident outcome that this unclothed situation may bring, but because Ron had led himself into a trap. His attempt to avenge last week's humiliation was settling the best possible scenario for Hermione to accomplish what she hasn't been able to since she met him: beat Ron at chess.

“Okay, then. I did say I’ll play anything you chose.” she finally spoke, leaning back on the couch whilst crossing her arms to pump up her breasts. Ron’s eyes bulged and there, right there, she used her most seductive voice to add, “You’re such a bad loser, Mr Weasley.”

“I’m not a bad loser, Ms Granger-Weasley,” he retorted, slowly shaking his head, keeping his gaze locked on hers. Ron’s eyes went wide with desire as he resumed speaking in a deep voice, “What I am, if you wish to know, is a randy bloke with a vengeful soul and a gorgeous wife.”

Hermione’s only response was a raised eyebrow. Ron released a light chuckle, almost to himself, as he took the chess set and began to place the pieces. Hermione noticed that he was glancing at her and licking his lips every few seconds. That was the last sign she needed to convince herself that this was her chance to defeat him. If these many years together had taught her something, it was that Ron Weasley's brain turned to mud in front of a pair of bouncing breasts. She was fully clothed and he was already losing his focus. She was taken out of her reverie by her husband’s pompous voice.

“I’ll let you play white, love. So, you come first”

"Okay, I'll play. But who comes first still remains to be seen."

[cheryblossomdreams]

A Discussion About Dramione

This is a very difficult ship in the HP fandom, alongside others like Drarry etc.

However, I think there is something to be said for it regardless, since I’ve seen a lot of anti-Dramione content with some valid points and a lot of non valid ones too, so I suppose I’d like a try my hand at rebuking some of them.

1. Dramione shippers romanticize abuse and bullying.

At first glance, it certainly looks that way. Draco Malfoy was a racist, petty, spoiled bully that jumped on every opportunity to bully Hermione Granger and her friends. He is not a good character. In the Dramione fandom, no one claims he is a good character either. Instead, the Dramione fandom recognized the canon potential for change in Draco and uses that to shape their fanfics. The largest majority of the fandom (There do exist those really young fans that don’t quite yet understand everything that will blindly defend him or create extremely problematic fanart, but they are truly a minority) acknowledges entirely all the wrongs Draco has committed, and they are many. Actually, in most Dramione fics, the writers go to great lengths to process the part of DHr’s past that was filled with hatred and insults. You can find examples of this in the fic Measure of a Man by @inadaze22​. Also to the point, most of Dramione fanfiction is written and set in a time many years after the War, after their school years, where they’ve both grown, matured and become adults, changed by time and what they went through, so it is a null point to say Dramione shippers romanticize bullying when their content is almost always set in a time where Draco is no longer a bully and Hermione is no longer a victim.

What the Dramione shippers like to emphasize is the fact that even though Draco used to be a horrible person, he had changed and grown past that, owned up to his mistakes and is now a different man. That’s what the stories they write are about. He had the potential to change already established in canon that he used later through his life to become someone better Hermione could eventually forgive and love.

You’ll be hard pressed to find a Dramione shipper that would say that while they were still in school they should’ve gotten together. Absolutely not. The content most of the Dramione fandom creates is always set post-canon, at a time where Draco’s changed and grown up from who he used to be, and Hermione recognizes his change and forgives him.

She certainly doesn’t have to forgive him, she doesn’t owe him anything, but part of Hermione’s bravery and overall character is that she would have been able to forgive him when she realized he’d changed. Plus, he saved her best friend’s life at a critical point in the war and, even though he did nothing to help her because he literally couldn’t have, which is something I’m pretty sure Hermione would have been grateful for, even a little bit. 

The Malfoy family saved Harry’s life TWICE in HP, in both extremely critical moments in the war (Draco lying at the manor, Narcissa lying to Voldemort), which is something Hermione wouldn’t have been able to just ignore and pretend like it never happened, because that’s not who she is. 

There probably is a very small percent of the Dramione fandom who create problematic content, but every fandom and every ship has toxic shippers, besides they are simply not the majority.

2. Dramione shippers use Hermione to redeem Draco.

The redemption arc Draco got in HP is extremely flimsy at best, especially considering the amount of damage he’d done prior. He saved Harry’s life, yes, but he did nothing to protect either Ron or Hermione, so personally I wouldn’t harp on about that being much of a redemption arc at all. However, I don’t think any Dramione shippers use Hermione to redeem him. In the Dramione content the things he did wrong and the hurt he inflicted is something Hermione recognizes and then, through the story, eventually chooses to leave behind. Besides, she doesn’t have to redeem him, since we know from canon he’d grown out of his beliefs eventually, privately at least if not publicly (more on this later).

3. Draco had a choice in how to act, if he really didn’t believe in blood supremacy.

No, he didn’t. Let me break it down why.

When he was 11 years old and first coming to Hogwarts, he was too young to understand the beliefs his parents ingrained into him were wrong and harmful, he simply didn’t have the mental capacity to comprehend that. He was a child that hung to every word their mom and dad said and he acted accordingly.

As he grew up though, started going through puberty and maturing, he would’ve realized that blood supremacy is wrong. Let’s say this realization came when he was 14. Lucius and Narcissa weren’t with him at Hogwarts, so if he changed his behavior to reflect his new realizations, they wouldn’t have known, right?

WRONG.

Do you really mean to tell me that if Draco Malfoy, only son and sole heir to the Malfoy family, an extremely wealthy, influential family in the Wizarding World and its politics, part of the sacred 28, well respected and with a high status in society, suddenly started being kinder and friendlier to Muggleborns and Halfbloods, people wouldn’t talk? People wouldn’t wonder, get suspicious? That such news wouldn’t reach his father, who’s got eyes and ears everywhere (evident by the fact he was able to bribe someone in Hogwarts to buy his son a position on the Quidditch team). And how do you think Lucius Malfoy, a devout Death Eater, would have reacted to receiving such news? What do you think would have happened to Draco when he came home that summer?

Draco was never abused and I doubt Lucius would start then, but I am positive he would’ve been disowned, for betraying the values his family had upheld for centuries. Lucius is a staunch blood purist and he absolutely would cut all contact with his son (disown him) when news reached him Draco was making nice with Muggleborns and Halfbloods.

And Draco knew this, he knew how strict his father was, he knew how deeply he believed in blood supremacy and he knew the consequences for stepping out of line and being anything less than the perfect son.

What would a 14-year old kid do being disowned? Homeless essentially?

So, even if he had realized the wrongs of his beliefs and renounced them, he couldn’t have done that publicly, and certainly not with Hermione Granger or Harry Potter much less, seeing as Harry Potter is the nemesis of the man his father believes in.

By the time he reaches 15 and 16, Voldemort is already at full power again and living in Draco’s house. Now things get even worse. After Lucius fails to get the Prophecy in the Department of Mysteries, Voldemort decides he has to punish him for his failure by having Draco take the Dark Mark. By this point, Draco had abandoned ideas of blood supremacy, but at this point, what the fuck is he going to do? Refuse The Dark Lord? The Darkest Wizard in all of Wizarding History? The guy who is living in his house AND holds the lives of him AND his entire family hostage? Who could and would murder Draco’s mother and father and Draco himself if Draco disobeyed? The man who murdered a person right on Draco’s kitchen table and had Nagini swallow them whole?

Even if all of that wasn’t true, and it is, how’s a 16 year old kid going to fight off a house full of seasoned Death Eaters, proficient at the Dark Arts who will use Unforgivables on him, plus Voldemort himself, plus a giant terrifying snake?

At that point, Draco is left with literally zero choice but to take the Mark and obey his mission to murder Dumbledore.

He hatches several plots to kill Dumbledore, all of which fail. When they stand at the Astronomy tower, even Dumbledore himself calls all of his plots halfhearted and weak. Dumbledore offers him help, but Draco is very clear in his regret of the things he’d done and the fact there’s no going back now.

‘I have to do this, I have to kill you, or he’s gonna kill me.’

AND

‘What do you know about me? I’ve done things that would shock you.’

(I’m paraphrasing here, these aren’t the exact quotes).

At which point Snape shows up and kills Dumbledore in Draco’s place because of the Vow he made to Narcissa.

Any way you look at it, he really didn’t have any choice, even if he did at some point during school renounce his beliefs and grow past them.

4. He tried to kill Ron.

I’ve seen antis blame Draco for this one, which is a bit ridiculous. He did not. He had madam Rosmerta poison a bottle of wine, which he sent to Horace Slughorn, hoping Slughorn would pass it onto Dumbledore. Filch hadn’t noticed any traces of poison in it, because he is a Squib, he also didn’t doubt a shipment from Rosmerta, and so he just gave it to Slughorn. Slughorn kept it around and then later he was the one to offer Ron a glass of that wine. In Draco’s plan, Ron wasn’t ever even mentioned nor included in any way. It had been an unlucky coincidence for Ron, and Draco couldn’t have possibly known that Slughorn would hold onto the wine, that Ron would ever be around Slughorn OR that Slughorn would offer Ron that same wine. Sufficed to say, Draco never attempted to murder Ronald Weasley.

5. He did nothing while Bellatrix tortured Hermione.

We’ve been over this, what could he have done? He had saved Harry’s life earlier, but that one lie couldn’t of spared Ron or Hermione, their faces were too recognizable, even if Harry’s wasn’t.

A room full of Death Eaters, some of the cruelest, most dangerous ones mind you (Bellatrix Lestrange) and he’d be 17, if I remember correctly, still not even an adult, plus at this point in the war even more powerless (considering the fact the Malfoys had fallen out of favor with Voldemort, evident by the fact Lucius tells Draco that if they deliver Harry Potter to Voldemort, all would be forgiven).

What did you expect him to do? Leap into battle and try to fend off dozens of Death Eaters, effectively betraying the Dark Lord in the process and single-handedly getting his entire family killed, if not even himself?

Would you have done that? No, of course not.

6. Draco Malfoy is not redeemable.

Now Draco’s “redemption arc”, if it can be called that, is a powerful moment but it’s flimsy. JK didn’t really ever intend for him to be redeemed or liked either, but let’s take a look at it anyways.

It is canon that Draco stopped believing in blood supremacy at some point during their school years, though we can’t know exactly when.

How can I say this, when his behavior never indicated that?

Well, I’ve already been over why he couldn’t have suddenly changed his behavior, now let’s go through how I can claim it is canon.

The scene where Draco lies to everyone about Harry’s identity.

That moment could only exist IF Draco didn’t believe in blood supremacy anymore.

Think about it, if Draco was devout to Voldemort and his beliefs like his father, he would have had no problem or conscience to tell everyone ‘Yes, this is Harry Potter, hand him over.’ It would have been favorable to him if Harry died.

And let’s be clear, if Draco had said the truth in that moment, Harry would have died. He was captured, wandless (his is broken, when they escape the Manor he steals Draco’s), Ron and Hermione captured as well, he was entirely helpless and surrounded by powerful Dark Arts wizards and witches who would lead him directly to Voldemort the moment they got confirmation it was indeed him and that would have been it. Voldemort would have killed him. Voldemort would have won.

But that isn’t what happened.

Draco looked at Harry, recognized it was him (evident by a later scene where Harry straight up says that. “Why didn’t you tell her? Bellatrix? You knew it was me, you didn’t say anything.”) and at first, still unsure what to do, asked why Harry’s face was like that, and he’s told Harry just came in like that.

Draco says “I’m not sure.”

At that point Lucius grips him and tells him that if they gave up Harry Potter to Voldemort all would be forgiven, Bellatrix brings him closer to get a second look.

Draco knows all the consequences of what he’s doing at this point, he knows what he’s risking, the literal lives of everyone he loves, and what does he do?

He still lies.

‘I can’t be sure.’

It’s a powerful moment for his character, BUT it’s not enough for redemption. The amount of pain and hatred he’d spewed for 6 years (I say 6 years because The Golden Trio wasn’t attending Hogwarts for year 7) is not redeemed by this one instance. His actions, letting Death Eaters into Hogwarts, likely torturing people on command of the Carrows in 7th year, are not redeemed by this moment, even if he did save Harry’s life.

However, though this instance doesn’t constitute redemption, it is telling of the fact Draco has changed, and changed significantly from the hateful, angry, spoiled, racist brat he used to be, which gives him potential to grow up into a different, better man.

Whether JK intended it or not, the way that was written makes Draco Malfoy more than redeemable, if not for the duration of the books, then later through his life.

Being a horrible person at one point in your life does not make you forever evil, does not mean you can not ever change. To prove this, I’d like to humbly request you to watch this video:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SSH5EY-W5oM

Voldemort’s regime is very similar to Hitler’s Nazi movement, so this video is very fitting to my point and HP in general.

Here’s another three:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ORp3q1Oaezw

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fw0vS0qvYo0&list=TLPQMTcxMjIwMjBZfqJdkbbQJw&index=2

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y4gly9n9RBo&list=TLPQMTcxMjIwMjBZfqJdkbbQJw&index=3

If you don’t have time to watch, let me sum it up for you.

The first video chronicles the story of a man who’d been part of the Neo-Nazi movement, managed to leave it behind and become an activist and overall an amazing guy now.

The other three links chronicle the story of Daryl Davis, a black man who’d attended KKK rallies and even met with the Imperial Wizard of the KKK Roger Kelly, somehow despite all odds became friends with him and eventually managed to get through to Roger Kelly to the point where this man (The leader of the KKK on a national scale) stepped down from his position and left the Ku Klux Klan.

That’s real life, something like that happened, truly happened, but Draco Malfoy is irredeemable?

PLUS, Draco is hardly the first case like this.

Take James Potter as an example. James was also a rich, racist, privileged white boy, and a bully. He’d bullied Snape severely, even set up a “prank” with his friends that would lead to Snape getting attacked by a WEREWOLF, putting him in mortal peril, with great potential of killing him, that required then a rescue operation.

James attempted murder, or if you don’t want to go that far, he set up a situation that quite possibly could have gotten someone killed, and he got to mature and grow past his behaviors and redeem himself, fall in love with Lily and have a wonderful son.

Why couldn’t Draco change when James had?

~

In conclusion, I think there’s a big diifference between what the Dramione fandom actually is and what antis think it is. 

The heart of the Dramione fandom is about growing and changing and maturing and forgiving and falling in love despite the differences of the past.

It’s not about romanticizing bullying or toxic relationships, life is not black and white people, people can change and grow from their past actions and people can also forgive and move on. 

There’s plenty of examples in the books of Harry and Ron mistreating Hermione and they all move past those instances (obviously that can’t be compared to what Draco did, I’m just making a point here).

I do acknowledge that the Dramione shippers have some bad apples among them, some problematic people that take it all too far, but honestly, every fandom and every ship has bad, toxic people so you can’t really use that against them.

All in all, things aren’t the way antis always present them, there’s a lot more gray there, and I hope this entirely too long post helped some of y’all see that.

[politalysis]

# What has happened to JK Rowling?

Growing up in the early 2000s immediately made Harry Potter a huge part of your childhood. Even if you never read the books or watched the films, you can probably name the three main characters. Even if you weren’t interested in Harry Potter in the slightest, you probably know your Hogwarts house. It’s incredible what Harry Potter did for our generation all over the world. Children would stay up on their eleventh birthdays anxiously awaiting a Hogwarts acceptance letter, knowing full well that owl was never going to come. Our imagination kept the dream of going to Hogwarts and learning magic alive anyway. Even now at the age of 23, I can for the most part keep a conversation flowing with anyone who has read the books or even just watched the films. You could even go as far as to say it was our generation’s Lord of the Rings.

JK Rowling came from very humble beginnings. She suffered with depression in her childhood and early teens, and lost her mother to multiple sclerosis in 1990. These struggles inspired her a lot when writing Harry Potter. She channeled her grief and pain into her writing. In 1992, she married a man she had met whilst living in Portugal, but Rowling suffered domestic abuse at his hands and the couple separated a year later. She lost her job and moved to Edinburgh in Scotland, where she had to sign up for welfare benefits, which left her a poor and depressed single mother spending her time writing in coffee shops. When she finished writing Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone, twelve publishers rejected the opportunity to publish the book. Once someone finally agreed to publish the book, it became the best selling children’s book of the year.

We all know how the story goes from there. Rowling wrote six more Harry Potter books, eight films were made, and Rowling went from a poor vulnerable single mother to a multi millionaire in the space of a few short years. Harry Potter is now a global brand estimated to be worth about $15 billion. The last four books have each consecutively set the record for the fastest selling book in history. Rowling is now the richest author in the world, with a net worth of $92 million. But as well as money, JK Rowling has over 14 million followers on Twitter. This gives her massive influence as well as money. Rowling seemed to initially use this influence for good, spreading mental health awareness, LGBT inclusivity, interacting with fans and creating a website for all us Harry Potter fans to determine our houses and let our wands choose us.

I remember being 8 years old when Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince was released, and I was attending a religious school where some parents complained and called to ban Harry Potter over the controversial decision JK Rowling made regarding Dumbledore’s sexuality. Rowling had made the claim that Dumbledore was gay. Looking back, the controversy was ridiculous and I can only imagine how embarrassed some of those parents must be. I also remember as I got older, re-reading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows I noticed more that the emotion behind Dumbledore’s relationship with Grindelwald was one he held with a romantic love. So years later, when several members of the LGBT community attacked Rowling for only deciding Dumbledore’s sexuality after the books were written, I publicly defended her with my knowledge that that simply wasn’t true. I had this image of Rowling in my mind, that she had always been on the right side of this debate. She had always been inclusive and supportive of LGBT people as far as I could see, and I just didn’t understand the issue. Rowling had always expressed a centre-left political perspective, and although I didn’t agree with all her views, they seemed relatively uncontroversial.

When Harry Potter and the Cursed Child was released, I hated it. It was a literary disaster, completely disrespectful of the original book series, the characters were a shell of the characters we had grown up with, the plot was almost deliberately ridiculous and overly elaborate and I immediately dismissed it as not canon. I have never forgiven JK Rowling for publicly stating the book was canon. She almost destroyed a whole two decades of her own hard work and the franchise that she’d built that had been like a home for a whole generation. All because she wanted to grab a few extra quid for a terrible book she didn’t even write. To this day I can’t help but wonder if she has even read the book. If I had written the masterpiece that is Harry Potter, I would view the Cursed Child as an insult. Perhaps I’ll even write a review one day, just for fun. Rowling also annoyed me by going back on her story, regretting pairing Ron and Hermione together and not pairing Hermione with Harry. Ron and Hermione are my favourite couple from the story, and their relationship had so much meaning. I couldn’t believe that the author who wrote such a clever and consistent relationship between two beloved characters could ever regret it. At this point in my life, I was beginning to wonder if perhaps Rowling was losing her mind. It was almost like she was trying to destroy her legacy.

As more years passed, the Fantastic Beasts films were released. The first film looked promising, but the second film was yet another disaster. Again, it was inconsistent with the franchise as we knew it, for some reason Hogwarts was full of people wearing 3 piece suits instead of the robes they wore in the Harry Potter series and Minerva McGonigall appeared as a teacher despite the fact that canonically there is no way she could have been old enough. The film was a disaster with both fans and critics hating it. Amongst this mess came controversy in December 2019. Rowling lost all respect she had once held amongst the transgender community when she made a public statement supporting Maya Forstater, a British woman who lost her employment tribunal case against her employer who fired her over transphobic comments. Six months later on June 6 2020, Rowling criticised the term “people who menstruate” and stated: "If sex isn’t real, the lived reality of women globally is erased. I know and love trans people, but erasing the concept of sex removes the ability of many to meaningfully discuss their lives." Rowling’s views on these issues were heavily criticised by GLAAD and even by the actors from the Harry Potter movies including lead actors Daniel Radcliffe, Rupert Grint and Emma Watson.

Rowling published a 3,600 word essay in response to the mass criticism of her views four days later. The essay did her no favours, as she wrote: “When you throw open the doors of bathrooms and changing rooms to any man who believes or feels he’s a woman then you open the door to any and all men who wish to come inside.” She seemed to be suggesting that trans women are often just men disguised as women in order to trick or even harm other women. This obviously angered the transgender community even more, and women’s refuge shelters that allow trans women were reporting no rise in violence as a result, children’s charities that support gender non conforming children were criticising Rowling, she was being made to give back awards and ultimately Rowling was labelled a Trans exclusionary radical feminist, a term often abbreviated to TERF.

JK Rowling is the perfect example of how money and influence can make someone forget their roots so easily. For someone who survived poverty, domestic abuse and sexual assault, she is so lacking in self awareness and how the things she has said and done can be harmful to transgender people. It is widely reported that transgender women are at more risk of harm in female restrooms than cisgender women. With acceptance becoming the norm, transgender people are feeling more safe to come out now than ever before, and so the rise in numbers of the community is huge, especially amongst our generation who grew up with Harry Potter. For a young transgender teenager to grow up wondering how Hogwarts would accommodate them, only to hear the author who gave us Hogwarts in the first place disapprove of equal rights for transgender people, must be very disheartening. However, JK Rowling has proven that she has no idea how powerful the legacy her books created really is. She was tasked with following up the Harry Potter series, and what she gave us was inconsistent and very poorly written screenplays. I have read better sequels on tumblr. Lots of them. Hogwarts doesn’t belong to JK Rowling, it belongs to the fandom. And I’ll be willing to bet my last penny that if Professor McGonigall witnessed any bullying of transgender students in her classroom (or indeed the girls bathroom!) she’d absolutely defend the victim without a moment’s hesitation. Hermione would decorate the Gryffindor common room with little blue, pink and white flags in support of a transgender first year who’d just been sorted into Gryffindor. Luna Lovegood would sit and befriend any trans student who looked lonely, and Ginny would dish out a bat bogey hex to anyone who dared pick on them. No matter what JK Rowling thinks, Hogwarts is not hers to ruin. It is ours. Regardless of what makes us different, Hogwarts is our home.

[percydarling]

I'll be honest,if the weasley kids had a tv show I would have percy as my favourite. Bill aand charlie arent in it so I wouldnt have an opinion (they're obviously hinted at but never there) Arthur's gonna annoy me kinda, molly is really nice but she always compares her kids. Ron (as lovely as he is) can be really mean to percy and just sucky to him. I love Ginny but everyone knows jk made her because "girl power= not feminine traits!1!1!1!" I love her,I love her love for quidditch but I feel like I still clearly see what she represents and that's jks sentiments (like cho for example, as an asian it's never gonna leave my mind). The twins would be great in theory but 2 twins insulting their older brother, burning a hole through their brothers tongue? Pranking everybody ALL THE TIME? I say I love them but seriously if I studied at hogwarts I would loathe them because hey, were in class- prank somebody in a more boring one or after. Also they're way too mean to percy.

Percy is the kinda dude I'd identify with, I hate how his family shames him alot. Sure hes ambitious but at the same time I hate when they bully him for his pride in his prefect badge and his head boy badge, like CMON! Gryffindor traits??? PRIDEFUL like yeah hes gonna be happy because he feels accomplished. I remember getting into model un and I talked about it at dinner time,my siblings got kinda annoyed but did they insult me abt it? No! They understood that this was a big part of my pride. They teased me a little "Haha model un-er" or "your rooms the country your representing right? Oops I dont have my passport" regular happy sibling stuff. You dont insult your brothers pride and joy, it's obvious hes so happy about it.

If there's gonna be a show on the Weasley family, the only interestee Weasley I would be watching is for Percy. Now let's go through every Weasley.

Arthur- at work, never home, if at home in shed exploring muggle things instead of probably bonding with his children.

Molly-would do chores, help children and maybe chat with next door neigbour. A slight chance of bonding with kids. Not very entertaining really.

Bill and Charlie- I mean depends whether they're even there or gone. If they're there they'd probably argue with each other. Maybe we'll get the Bill earring story and Charlie dragon obsession. Other than that maybe sibling bonding which is always good.

Twins- I cannot emphasize enough as to why I wouldn't watch the twins, if there was such a tv show. Each episode they'll probably prank someone most probably Ron and Percy. And then these pranks would get violent and physical and they would still be the saints and Percy the villain.

I mean the twins cause Ron's phobia, almost make him take the Unbreakable Vow (Ron was 5!) and then beat his Puffskein to death.

AND PUFFSKEIN IS AN ANIMAL.

And that's only Ron. If I start on Percy the jokes are endless but let's just end with the twins tried to locked Percy in a pyramid( God knows how old!). Enough said.

Ron- We already have Ron content in the book. Do we really need more? Yes we do but not if it's Ron insulting Percy. And if this show was before Harry and Hogwarts then Ron would be a young child like 9-10 years old and I personally wouldn't be interested. I love Ron but he loses absolutely no moment to insult or bitch about his brother. Plus Ron is whiny. Sometimes.

Ginny- They'll probably make her a Mary Sue who can do no wrong. They would seriously do that and make her a female version of the twins. Sorry not interested in watching her.

When we come to Percy there are so many things we can do. We can see bonding with Bill or Charlie. Percy being a good older brother and helping with nightmares. Percy being his mother's support system. Percy helping Arthur with his work. Percy teaching Ron chess. Percy planning a prank with twins. Percy playing dolls with Ginny.

With Percy you can relate him to everyone in some way or another. We know Molly loves Percy and probably considers him her favorite. Probably. Arthur with the Ministry so Percy and Ministry. Percy going to Bill with help for studies. Percy helping Charlie research about dragons.(Percy telling Charlie his dormmate is crazy about quidditch and asking if Charlie could give him tips and an autograph)

Percy playing chess with Ron. We know Percy is protective over Ron and Ginny. So we can assume that Percy teaches Ron chess and helps him read. Percy reading to Ginny about Harry Potter.(Really though who else would have? Molly would be busy and Bill and Charlie wouldn't)

Or we can have Percy writing stuff. Short stories and articles. Percy being a writer. Percy singing , dancing or drawing. Percy sneaking to Muggle town and talking to them.

Percy finding Scabbers.

Percy going to the Lovegood residence and talking with Luna's mother because she is such an amazing person.

(And taking her death the hardest)

Also Percy bonding with Luna.

Percy bonding with Uncle Billius or Great Aunt Muriel. Also reminsing time with Uncle Gideon and Fabian.

Percy having babysitter called Lily Potter who looked just like him but with bright green eyes. She reads to him about adventure stories and tells him she loves him very much and once brought her husband with her(who's an animagus!)

(While his brothers rejoiced the fall of You Know Who, Percy cried because Miss Lily and Mr James were dead. That was the time Percy realised that bad things happen to good people)

Well to put it in short there are so many angles with Percy which makes him interesting in my opinion.

If they do make let's hope they don't screw Percy over like they did with him in that damn game.

Also for that Percy interacting with Muggles there's an interesting fanfic called Percy's Diary.

https://m.fanfiction.net/s/7542632/1/Percy-s-Diary

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Percy is the only Weasley who I can relate to which makes me love him more. I am an elder sibling, have been constantly insulted by family and friends for following rules and very rarely been put down for being excited for something.

And the whole making fun of Percy is bullying when they're laughing at him and not with him.

These 2 prepositions make all the difference when it comes to teasing and bullying.

And the twins are bullies. They are.

"Oh, are you a prefect, Percy? You should've said something, we had no idea."

This is one of the lines they say.

How much do you want to bet that the twins didn't say something like this to Bill when he became prefect and HeadBoy?

Percy was a constant butt of their jokes and pranks, including bewitching his prefect and Head Boy badges to read Pinhead and Bighead Boy respectively, and sending dragon dung to his office at the Ministry.

This is from the official wikia. People can try to make the twins saint and say it was all good natured and everything. But I will always see the twins as bullies.

And the thing is the twins and Ron never bothered to praise Percy and that just feels wrong. Everytime they talk about Percy it's qn insult. When I talk about my brother to an acquaintance I don't insult him unlike Ron.

I feel that as Percy fans we love him because he is complicated. He isn't like the rest of the Weasleys. He isn't charming or funny. He's just a normal guy trying to do better and Percy fans get it because it's relatable. We can relate to being ordinary. He doesn't have earrings or pranks or a saviour best friend. He's just a guy who follows rules and wants to be successful. Who wouldn't relate with that?

And maybe some of us have been ridiculed just like Percy so we understand. We also understand that this is Harry's biased view and all he has been told about Percy is usually by Ron or the twins who insult him on a regular basis. And Harry is no better! He uses words like pompously like he understands how a person talks pompously?

So I love Percy a lot because I relate to him and I would never in my life apologise for loving such a complicated character.

[edie-k]

Living Legend (R/Hr, PG-13)

Title: Living Legend

Summary: Harry confronts his legacy as The Boy Who Blocked

Pairing: Ron/Hermione

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: Not mine; just having some not for profit fun.

So, based off discussion of this awesome piece of art shared on the Romione Discord, I wrote this fic. It started as very tongue in cheek idea and ended with some heart. 

Harry entered the crowded pub and glanced around. He’d been held up almost an hour completing paperwork at the Ministry so he expected he was the last one to arrive. It didn’t take long for him to focus on the boisterous group in the back and he made his way towards the table with a grin. 

“Hey, there he is!” said George, with a raise of his glass and assorted greetings joined in from the rest of the group. 

“Oi, thank God, you’re here Harry,” said Seamus. “These two,” he said, gesturing at Ron and Hermione, “are getting gross.” 

Hermione gave an indignant snort and Ron glared at Seamus but he was smirking. Harry laughed as he dropped into the empty seat next to Ginny and gave her a kiss on the cheek. He glanced around the table at the crew - George, Angelina, and Luna were already seated at the other end and Dean was plopping down on the other side of Ron, next to Parvati. There was still an empty seat with a half drank glass in front of it and glancing around the room, he spotted Neville at the bar. He gratefully accepted the mug his girlfriend had slid in front of him. “And what do you expect me to do about the two of them?” he asked, as he took a swig of his drink. 

“Break out some of that cockblocking magic you’re famous for,” said Seamus. The entire table burst into laughter. Harry was so shocked that he momentarily choked.  

“Honestly Seamus!” said Hermione, although she looked much more amused by the comment than Harry would have expected. 

“What in Merlin’s name are you talking about?” Harry asked. 

“Do you not know what cockblocking is? The term seems pretty self explanatory but it’s when-” 

“I know what it means, Seamus,” growled Harry.”I just don’t know what you mean.” 

“I believe that’s his colorful way of talking about the fact that you were the main obstacle preventing Ron from progressing beyond friends with Hermione,” suggested Dean. 

“Uh, in the name of gender equality, he was also the main obstacle preventing Hermione from making a move on Ron,” said Parvati. Dean tipped his drink in her direction in agreement. 

“Human birth control, if you will,” suggested George. 

“The opposite of an aphrodisiac for the two of them, if that’s a thing,” said Ginny. Harry gapped at her, startled by her comment.  

“It is, it’s called an anaphrodisiac,” Hermione supplied.   

“Oh, that’s interesting. What things are considered anaphrodisiac?” asked Angelina. 

“Alcohol, right?” said Dean. 

“Not in my experience,” said Seamus, wagging his eyebrows. 

“That’s not what Cara Johnson told Padma,” said Parvati. 

“Alcohol and tobacco and some other elements that go into pain relieving medications and potions. There was also recently a study around licorice of all things.” 

“Red or black?” asked Neville, who had just returned from the bar with a fresh pitcher. 

“Hmm,” said George thoughtfully. “Licorice wands but droopy. There’s a Wheeze in there somewhere.”  

“Dabberblimps are also said to have an impact on sexual desire but I think that’s more due to the smell,” said Luna. 

“No, wait! Wait, wait, wait, wait,” said Harry, completely aghast. “Are you all saying it took Ron and Hermione two years to get together and it was my fault?” 

“Look, Harry, no one should be saying you were the main obstacle in it. Hermione and I certainly could have done more to rise above it,” said Ron in what he thought was a consoling tone. 

“Honestly, everyone at this table could have done more,” said Neville, gesturing to the group who nodded in agreement. 

“But it is fair to say that Harry carries most of the blame,” said Seamus. 

“Outside of Ron and I,” Hermione clarified. 

“This is unbelievable,” said Harry. 

“Look, Hermione and I have talked about it and there’s no hard feelings. It all worked out in the end.” 

“You’ve talked about this?!” Ron shrugged. “Hermione,” Harry turned to his friend with a pleading tone. “You are the most rational person I know. You can’t seriously agree with this?” 

“I pluck up the courage to ask Ron out and you created as much noise as possible and practically threw a bowl across the room before I could clarify it was a date.” 

“It was awkward!” 

“Are you saying we’ve never done anything awkward for your sake?” Ron chuckled. 

“No but… come on, it was obvious that was a date!” 

“I told you I thought she asked me as a friend and you never said anything!”   

“Wait,” said Angelina. “Harry, there was a misunderstanding between them that you knew about and you didn’t say anything to clear it up?” 

“It was awkward!” 

“Not only that,” said Hermione. “I asked him why Ron was angry with me so I could fix it and he knew why but he didn’t tell me.” 

“It… was awkward,” said Harry weakly. “And! And! The reason Ron was angry with you was ridiculous. You had snogged Krum two year ago. I didn’t want to make him look stupid.”

“Yeah,” said Ron dryly. “You really kept me from looking like an idiot in sixth year. Cheers.” 

“I’m sorry,” Parvati said, shaking her head in disbelief. “Are you saying that if you had one awkward conversation, we would have avoided the entire debacle that was Lavender and Ron?”  

“Yes,” said Hermione. 

“Pretty much,” said Ron. 

Parvati turned to Harry. “Potter, there are hours, days, WEEKS of my life that I will never get back that I spent dealing with that nightmare.” 

“What, do you think it was a picnic for me?!” 

“No! That makes it worse!” cried Parvati. 

“Well, what was I supposed to do?” exploded Harry. “Just go up to Hermione and say, ‘Ron is jealous as hell that you kissed Victor Krum  You should go talk to him and get this sorted before Slughorn’s party’?”

“YES!” shouted the entire table.  

Harry noticed that Ginny had joined the chorus and rounded on her. “What about you? You could have stepped in just as well as I could have!” 

“I was mad at Ron and for good reason!” she retorted. “But yes, I could have done more. I’ll admit, part of it was that up until the point that you kissed me, I was a little worried that you were doing it because you had a thing for Hermione. I was worried that if I helped get the two of them together, you would totally spiral.”

“I thought that was why you were doing it too,” said Dean. 

“You did?” said Ginny with a smile. “You never told me that. I guess we were pretty compatible back then.”

“Hey! Am I not getting dealt enough blows?” said Harry indignantly and the table laughed. 

“Harry was never interested in Hermione,” said Luna with a tone of declaring the matter settled. “I did suspect he fancied Ron though.”

“Wha- okay, Luna, no,” Harry sputtered. “So I’m apparently responsible for the dumbest fight the two of you ever had but-” 

“Not responsible for the fight but you showed a lack of accountability in resolving it,” clarified Hermione. 

“Fine. So why didn’t you get together after Ron and Lavender broke up? You didn’t kiss until the final battle. How was that my fault?”  

“Didn’t Ron tell us Harry tried to break up that kiss too with some sort of snide comment?” George said to Angelina.  

“Snide comment?” Harry asked disbelievingly. “I reminded them that there was a war going on. THERE WAS LITERALLY A WAR GOING ON!” 

“It was coming to a natural conclusion,” Hermione said, rolling her eyes. 

“So that was really the first time you two kissed?” asked Dean. “Because when we uh, met up that spring, it seemed like something was going on.” 

“Well, we certainly made some progress to understanding we were on the same page,” said Hermione. “But things were complicated.”

“It was miserable and it really would have been pretty awkward to start something with Harry around all the time,” said Ron.

“Good call,” said George. “After tonight, I think we all know that Harry’s boggart takes the form of awkward interactions.” 

“At the point we found Dean and Luna, we both knew it was inevitable but we also had to finish helping Harry,” said Hermione. 

“Plus, you want to talk cockblock? Harry has nothing on Griphook,” said Ron. Dean nodded sagely and Hermione wrinkled her nose in agreement.  

“Finished helping me? You weren’t picking up my dry cleaning, we were saving the world!” 

“Harry, you are taking this way too personally,” said Hermione. “We don’t think you were truly trying to keep us apart but your desire to stay out of our relationship and your mild self-absorption caused a lot of complications.”  

“I don’t know why someone would take being called self absorbed personally,” George remarked and Ginny snorted. 

“Hermione, you don’t get it. You’re letting him off the hook too easily because you’re a woman. A man does not prevent a friend from getting laid. It’s basically an Unbreakable Vow that’s entrenched in our DNA,” said Seamus. 

“Ugh,” scoffed Parvati. “I honestly don’t know why we hang out with you.” 

“No, really,” insisted Seamus. “Take tonight as an example. Dean and Neville. You two are solid mates, yeah?” Both men nodded. “Right, so Dean goes up to the bar to get a new pitcher. Who comes up to wait on him but Hannah Abbott. Suddenly, Neville needs a glass of water. And what happens next?” 

Neville turned red. “I uh, I went up to the bar to ask Hannah for a glass while she was waiting on Dean.” 

“And as soon as Neville appears and starts talking to Hannah, I gave him a nudge and say ‘I have to hit the head. Can you bring that back to the table?’”

Harry scoffed. “How does you sticking Neville with the tab help him?” 

“You never did read that book I gave you, did you?” said Ron, incredulously. 

“I didn’t take a piss, I came back to the table so Neville could chat up Hannah. And?” 

Neville gave an embarrassed smile. “I’m taking her out tomorrow,” he admitted. 

“Ha!” Seamus punched the air triumphantly. “One friend getting another friend laid. It’s beautiful.” 

“It’s a first date,” Neville protested. “We’re not going to-” 

“We’ll work on it,” Seamus assured him. 

“Ron’s never tried to get me laid!” Harry shouted desperately. This comment was met with general revulsion. 

“Whoa! Come on,” said Dean, his face contorted. 

“That’s his sister,” said Neville. 

“For fuck’s sake man,” said Seamus disgustedly. The idea that Seamus was disgusted with him made Harry even more defensive. 

“Hermione is like my sister!” insisted Harry. 

“To be fair to Ron and it pains me to do so,” said Ginny. “Ron really only got in our way that one time after we broke up and as pissed as I was at the time, I think it came from a genuinely good place.”

“And I had no idea you liked Ginny until you snogged her right in front of me!” said Ron. 

“You never said anything about Hermione until we were in the woods!’ 

“Oh, Harry, really?” said Ginny with pity. “I don’t think that’s the way to go.” 

“Yeah, okay, but - hey, what about that one time with Cho?” Harry said accusingly to Ron. 

“I called Cho out for being a bandwagon fan one time when I was 15 and now I’m doomed to a life of interrupted shags,” Ron appealed to the room. 

“You’re together now,” said Harry weakly. 

“Despite your best efforts,” joked George. 

“And yet you haven’t relinquished your title as The Boy Who Blocked,” said Ron. 

“You do have extraordinarily bad timing,” said Hermione.

“Back to Seamus’s original point, you two are pretty gross.”

“I’m sorry, are you saying that I still am-” 

“In a much more literal sense now,” said Ron. Hermione gave him a playful smack on the chest. 

“Give me an example!” Harry insisted heatedly. 

Ron and Hermione exchanged a look that was familiar to Harry but he didn’t recognize. “Harry, it really isn’t a big deal,” said Hermione reassuringly. 

“Well, last weekend, right?” said George. “At Shell Cottage for Fleur’s birthday. You wanted to get Ron so he could try those beignets Gabrielle brought and we told you they would be back soon but you insisted on walking down the beach and…” 

“Yeah, and I found them past the alcove and - wait,” Harry stopped suddenly. “Is that why you were-?” Harry made a gesture too vague to interpret but Hermione squirmed in her chair and Ron inhaled sharply. 

Harry’s jaw dropped. “And last month when Ginny and I were over to listen to the Cannons’ match and you were so weird when I came in the kitchen to see why the snacks were taking so long…and Thursday? Hermione is that why you…” He trailed off as Hermione bit her lip and looked away while Ron rubbed the back of his neck. 

“Oh my God,” said Harry incredulously.  

“Harry, we’re so sorry if we made you uncomfortable,” said Hermione, sounding sincere for the first time all night. 

“Oh my God!” Harry repeated louder, this time, disgusted.

“We were making up for lost time, which you have a part in,” Ron pointed out. 

“Oh my God,” Harry said a third time, his tone full of realization.

“Are you okay Harry?” asked Ginny gently. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he said distractedly. A quiet set over the group within the roaring pub. 

“So Neville,” said Angelina in a voice full of forced cheer. “Where are you taking Hannah tomorrow?” 

“Oh, you should take her to this great new place in Hogsmeade. Padma and I had lunch there last week and the dinner menu looks amazing,” Parvati said. 

Harry looked glumly at his drink, barely noticing the glances his two best friends were exchanging. 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Harry?” came a familiar voice from the fireplace. 

It was the next morning. Ginny was off to practice and would be staying the evening with her team, as she did the day prior to every match. The standing tradition was that on these days, he had lunch with Ron and Hermione. As much as he loved Ginny and knew that Ron and Hermione did too, he liked having time as just the three of them. 

But he had cancelled this morning, citing a hangover and crossed his fingers that Ron would be able to persuade Hermione to leave him be. 

No such luck. 

He heard a whoosh, followed by a second. “Harry?” 

He sighed. “In here,” he called quietly from his armchair. Both of his friends popped around the corner. “Couldn’t hold her off?” 

Ron sank into the chair across from him, threw his legs on the ottoman and grinned. “Actually, I didn’t even try.” 

Hermione tapped Ron’s feet and he scooted them over to give her enough room to sit on the ottoman. “Harry, why are you avoiding us?” 

“‘m not,” he mumbled. “Just drank too much last night.” 

“You got there after everyone else so you missed the first two rounds of shots Seamus forced on us and I only saw you refill your glass once.” 

Harry shrugged. “I had a couple drinks when I got home.” 

“Look, we didn’t mean to upset you. Like Hermione said, we had a few before you got there and we were just having a go,” said Ron. 

“Yeah but it was true,” said Harry sullenly. 

“Well,” said Hermione, flattening her skirt nervously. “Yes, all of those things happened. But it was a long time ago. We’ve been together almost three years now. And we were certainly exaggerating a bit to have some fun. So there’s nothing for you to be upset about.”

Harry straightened up in his chair. “You don’t get it! Since I started at Hogwarts, you two have been the most important people in my life and you still are, plus Gin and Teddy. And you cared about me and you two always tried to do what you thought was going to help me and be best for me and last night I realized...I didn’t do that for you!” 

“Harry, you know that’s not true!” said Hermione. 

“Yes it is! I thought about how Cho and I couldn’t even look at each other anymore and I didn’t want that to happen to you two. It was always best when it was the three of us and I didn’t want anything to mess that. You were right, I was so self absorbed!” 

“Harry,” said Ron, rolling his eyes. 

“Of course you were,” said Hermione dismissively. 

“Okay, now I am regretting letting you come over here,” said Ron. 

“We all were!” she said, rolling her eyes. “Harry, Ron and I were so wrapped up in our own drama sixth year that we didn’t realize the depth of your fixation with Malfoy until you had practically murdered him!”   

“Well, whose fault is that? There would have been no drama had I said something! And all our friends think I didn’t say something because I was in love with Hermione. I mean, you must have thought that too,” Harry said miserably, gesturing to Ron. 

“I never really thought you were interested in Hermione but I was terrified Hermione would fall for you,” said Ron.

“What’s wrong with me that you didn’t think Harry would be interested?” said Hermione in a teasing tone that was clearly meant to lighten the mood, flicking Ron’s foot.  

“Absolutely nothing. This git doesn’t know what he’s missing, thank God.”  

Harry ignored them. “Had we cleared that up the year before, we could have avoided a few devastating weeks during the hunt, yeah?”  

“Harry, there’s no way I’m letting you take responsibility for what the Horcrux said or for me leaving you two,” Ron said. 

“We’re certainly not re-litigating any of that,” said Hermione. She turned and looked at Ron. “But when we were talking about all of this at home last night, we both agreed that once we were on the run, we made conscious decisions to not start anything until the war was complete.” 

Ron nodded. “It’s true, I felt the same.” 

“Great, I did it again,” Harry moaned. “You two were worried about me instead of enjoying your evening.”

“Harry, we still enjoyed our evening-” 

“Twice,” interrupted Ron. 

“But you’re our friend and we are always going to worry about you,” Hermione finished, paying Ron no mind. “It actually made me realize that we maybe could have had a relationship and taken care of you.”  

Harry groaned.

 “Harry, you took care of us too,” Ron said. “I mean, in the end, you didn’t want Hermione and I to stop being friends because you knew that would make us just as  miserable as you. And you weren’t wrong. And I don’t know, maybe this was all just the way it was supposed to be. Maybe Hermione and I are better because we got all the petty shit out before we were together. Maybe the three of us are better friends because we focused on that for so long. So we’re okay, if you’re okay.” 

Harry sat silently for a moment. “I’m going to try to be better about the .. you know, blocking. But seriously, I know we have a bit of a don’t ask, don’t tell on the subject but you could have clued me in,” Harry complained to Ron. 

“Fair enough,” laughed Ron. 

“Or you could not shag at parties.” 

“Just… if you suddenly don’t see us, wait at least 10 minutes before you come and look for us,” suggested Hermione. 

“Oi! 10 minutes?” said Ron, offended. 

“Harry,” Hermione sighed. “It is apparently very important for you to know that Ron satisfies me sexually.” 

“I assumed that once I figured out you were willing to do that for him there on Thursday,” Harry said. 

Hermione blushed. “You’re making that sound much worse than it was. And you keep biting your tongue!” she finished, pulling her legs up and shifting back so she was sitting in the chair next to Ron. 

“I didn’t say anything!” Ron said, although he looked very pleased with himself. “Now, can we please go get lunch?” 

“All right, you two figure out where to eat. Give me 10 minutes and we’ll go,” Harry laughed, standing up from his chair. 

“Harry, have you learned nothing? Make it 20,” said Ron. 

[a-simple-imagine]

Day 1 - The Great Candy Cane Disaster

synopsis: Malfoy gets you in trouble so you decide to get back at him but things go a little too far

pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!reader (if you squint)

Words: 2.6k+

A/n -  We’re kicking off the first day of my advent calendar with something centered around Draco Malfoy.

Warnings - Swearing

"They look ridiculous," Malfoy muses as you add the final ingredient to your forgetfulness potion.

"They look fine," You roll your eyes, utterly fed up with the boy. Sometimes you wished he'd simply keep his comments to himself. "I wanted to look festive but I have to wear my uniform so antlers were the next best thing."

"They look stupid," He repeats. You adjust the reindeer antlers that sit upon your head like a silent protest.

"Will you just try the potion please?"

"No, why don't you do it?" He bites back, you swear he's being difficult on purpose just to get under your skin. When it came to potions class, you often found yourself paired with Malfoy. On the odd occasions, he was relatively helpful but sometimes he was the exact opposite.

"I did most of the work so you have to try it." You risk pushing the potion cauldron a little, watching the liquid inside almost swish over the edge; that would be the last thing you need in Snape's class.

"I do hope that amongst all this arguing, you managed to finish your potion." Snape's dull voice ringed in your ear."

"Of course Professor," Malfoy recites as professor Snape approaches your table. "she was just about to test it out."

You want to protest but you know better. It's probably just land you in trouble, so you reluctantly pick up a glass vile "fine," and plunge it into the orange potion. You take the smallest of sips. "So, Uh... what were we talking about again?"

"Next time, you two should refrain from shouting across my classroom"

"Yes Professor," you both reply.

"Five points from Gryffindor."

"Wait why?" You question quickly, brows furrowed.

"Careful now, or I'll make it ten." You can hear Malfoy's little snicker beside you as you watch Snape walk away to inspect somebody else's work.

By the time lunch came around, you were utterly fed up with the day. Slumping down at the Gryffindor table, you let out a dramatic sigh suggesting you wanted someone to ask what was wrong. Nobody did. So you sigh again.

"I can't believe you lost us house points," Hermione scolds as if she hasn't done it before. It wasn't a big deal. "why can't you be more responsible."

"You try being partners with Malfoy," you grumble, as you take a couple of sandwiches and place them on your plate. "And besides, Snape was totally unfair."

"Honestly, everyone knows Snape favours Slytherin so you have to be more careful." Hermione was right about that. It was clear Snape favoured his own house and was especially harsh when it came to Gryffindors. Why he hated you so much was unclear but it was something you had come to terms with.

"Gosh it was only ten points, it's not the end of the world Hermione." You take a bite of your sandwich. "Enough about that- I need your help."

"With what?" She asks, bringing her goblet of juice to her lips.

"Learning the duplication spell? It never seems to work for me."

"Why?"

You simply shrug. "If I knew why, I wouldn't ask for help,"

"No- I mean why do you want help with it? You never normally want to study outside of class."

You'd laugh if it wasn't true. Studying, for the most part, wasn't your favourite thing to do and much like Ron, you tended to avoid it as much as possible. You were by no means a bad student, just not as good as Hermione for example. "You're always telling me I should get ahead of my studies and not leave everything to the last minute, Hermione, I'm just trying to be a good student."

For a moment, you think she's seen through your lie but she just smiles a little before pushing her plate to the middle of the table. "Fine. I have to head to the library and get a few books but I'll meet you in the common room later and we can go over it."

"Great," and with that Hermione leaves you with the boys to finish up lunch.

"So tell the truth then," Ron perks up, his mouth full of food.

"Huh?"

"We all know you're not suddenly a model student," he continues. "so why do you suddenly want help with a spell?"

"People can change, Ronald." Hermione always called him that.

"I don't believe that for a minute,"

"Ron's right," Harry agreed. "You once said you wouldn't be caught dead in the library. That doesn't sound like model student behaviour."

"Blasphemy," You state dramatically slapping your hand against the table.

Ron chuckles a little. "Tell us. We won't tell Hermione."

"Fine," You could trust them enough not to keep your secret; they'd proven that value before. "I want to enchant an object and give it to Malfoy."

"Hermione isn't going to like that you're using a spell to get back at Malfoy-" Ron warns with the most playful of smiles. "I can't wait to tell her."

"You just said you wouldn't," you huff, tossing a piece of bread in Ron's direction. "It's just a harmless prank."

"He's messing with you," Harry adds.

"Malfoy's leaving- I'll be right back," you jump up sharply. "Don't head back without me."

Charging over to the Slytherin table, you find Pansy just as she's finishing up. "Great, what do you want?"

"So volatile," you tease. "I need a favour."

"Ha! that's likely," Pansy Parkinson was not your friend. Everyone knew that. In fact, she actively chose to hate on you every moment she got. You liked to think it was just a complicated relationship with one of the biggest bullies in school.

"Can we... talk in private,"

Taking her arm, you drag her out of the great hall as she struggles in your grip. "What do you want?"

"A favour." You repeat. You need Pansy on board or your plan wouldn't work. You weren't close enough to Malfoy, nor did you have access to the Slytherin common room. Pansy did and she was not against breaking the rules.

"Tough luck," she spits, turning sharply on her heel but you reach out to grab her before she can leave.

"Please Pansy,"

"What's in it for me?"

Uh... you hadn't planned that far ahead. "My love and friendship?"

She chokes out a laugh. "Pass."

"Fine, I'll do whatever you want,"

"Whatever I want?" The was a degree of intrigue in her voice as she turned back around that made you worry about her upcoming demand.

"I mean... I'm not gonna like murder someone but you get the idea."

"Do all my Christmas break homework?"

"You can't be serious?" You got enough homework on an average day never mind during the holidays. It was like the professors deliberately didn't want you to have fun. "We've already been set like two essays and-"

"Take it or leave it," she interrupts, a malicious grin graced her beautiful features.

You groan loudly. You didn't really have much choice and she was holding all the cards here. "Fine- okay, I'll do al your homework."

"So, what do you want me to do then?" She wonders, pulling out of your grip.

"I need you to sneak me into the Slytherin common room."

"Is that all?" She raises a brow. "That's easy enough- When?"

"Couple days. I have to prepare first."

"Kay-" Without another word, Pansy turns on her heel and enters the great hall. Guess the conversation was over then. You may now be lumbered with way more homework than you cared to think about but at least she agreed. Heading back to the table, Ron is somehow still eating.

"What was that about?" Harry questions before you can even sit back down.

"Since when you and Parkinson friends?" Ron adds.

"We're not. I'm pretty sure she hates me." You shrug, finishing off your drink. "I needed her help but I had to wait until Malfoy wasn't around"

"Sounds like more effort than it's worth." Ron was more right then he would ever know.

"We should go. We have charms soon."

Classes were relatively easier towards the end of the year excluding any tests but the days still felt way too long. That evening you're sat on the floor beside the roaring reds and oranges of the fire. Hermione is sat across from you with a neat stack of papers and an array of books. Ron and Harry are chatting on the couch just within earshot.

"No offence, Hermione but why do I have to know the entire history of the spell to use it?"

"You wanted my help, didn't you?"

You sigh softly listening to her entire lecture with forged interest. When she's finally stopped telling you about the twins who created the spell, she placed a small leather-bound book on the floor between you; pulling out her wand. "Before you begin, you want to be sure of exactly how many copies you wish to make otherwise it can become uncontrollable," Hermione explains. "Only the caster can stop the uncontrollable duplication." Waving her wand she gently tapped the book. "Geminio." The book shook a little before splitting into two identical books side by side.

"And this spell works on anything?"

"To a degree. Keep in mind while they are identical, the other copy is considered worthless as after a while it'll start to degrade. So you give it a try,"

You pull out your wand and with a flick. "Geminio." Nothing happened. So you try again.

"juh-MIN-ee-oh," Hermione corrects your pronunciation slowly. "And don't flourish your wand so much. Just a smooth and simple flick," she readies her wand and flicks. "Geminio."

The book splits into another. Show off.

You flick your wand "Geminio." Again nothing happens.

"You're not very good at this," Ron teases from the side.

Hermione takes your wand hand in hers. "Let's try together, okay, ready?" You nod a little. Hermione guides your hand. "Geminio." You both say together and this time the book splits. You smile brightly.

"It worked!"

"Good job."

"Now I can put my plan in motion."

"What plan? I thought you just wanted help with your studies?"

"Oh- yes, that's what I meant." Her eyes narrow in and you offer an innocent smile. "Well, I'm off to bed- Good night."

It's a couple of days before you decide to finally get back at Malfoy. That time was mostly spent in classes and practising the spell. While everyone else is distracted having dinner, you follow Pansy through the halls of Hogwarts and down to the dungeons.

"So why are you doing this?" She asks but she doesn't sound too interested in an actual answer.

"Malfoy got me in trouble and I wish to share the Christmas spirit."

"By giving him... a candy cane?"

"Yeah," Your smile brightens. "Candy canes are the perfect Christmas treat. He has to be the one to touch it okay? No one else or it'll ruin it."

"Weird." She seems suspicious. "But fine. You're still doing all my homework."

"Yes. I know." You roll your eyes. Every time you've spoken to her in the past few days she's mentioned her homework. Stepping into the Slytherin common room felt weird; you don't know what you were expecting it to look like. You guess you just imagined them all to look the same but in different colours however, that was certainly not the case. It was... darker in here somewhat creepier.

"Then I'll make sure he's the one to get it."

"Promise?"

"Just leave before I call Snape."

"Alright, alright, Thanks for this."

Sneaking out the Slytherin common room, you head back to the great hall as if nothing had happened. Joining Harry, Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table.

"Where have you been?" Hermione quickly asks and your mind draws a blank.

"Huh- oh! I wasn't hungry but now I am- So what did I miss?"

"Nothing really," Harry shrugs.

"Hermione was lecturing us," Ron follows up.

"Sounds about right," you chuckle.

It's hard to pay attention as you wait for Malfoy to finish his dinner. Staring intensely at the Slytherin table; only catching bits and pieces of the conversation happening around you. When you notice Malfoy leaving, you sit up a little straighter.

"What are you looking at?" Hermione clicks before your eyes, drawing your attention back.

"...nothing,"

"Do you fancy Malfoy or something?"

"What?" You turn to her, completely shocked and sort of offended. You and Malfoy would be a... weird combination to say the least. "No. Don't be silly."

"You have been staring at him since sitting down," Ron adds, a smirk on his lips. He knew exactly why you were distracted so his comment was just to rile you up.

"I don't fancy him- shut up." You growl back. "I'm heading back to the common room."

"I think I'll come too," Hermione stated, clearing up the almost none existent mess she had made. LI wanna do a little reading before bed."

You offer a small smile. If you say no, she'll be suspicious so you kind of just have to go along with it. Harry and Ron end up joining you. The halls are pretty empty as the four of you head back, it was still pretty early to be fair. You're idly chatting away to Hermione when you hear your name echo through the hallway. While taking note of it, you choose to ignore it and continue walking but then it happens again. Louder this time. You grab Hermione and Ron, by the wrists and pull them a little faster. "Hurry up,"

"What why?" Hermione protests pulling out of your grip.

"Because."

"Stop!" You know the voice belongs to Malfoy; it's hard to miss. When you finally turn around to look, you see him charging towards you looking very angry. "What can I do for you Malfoy?" You ask innocently, putting on your best smile but he doesn't stop. You back up until you're against a wall and he is standing before you. It doesn't seem like the time but still, you reach up and pull a candy cane that seems to be stuck to his best. "Didn't know you liked candy canes so much. Saving this one for later were we?"

He doesn't see the funny side. "I know it was you,"

"I don't know what you're talking about,"

"Leave her alone, Malfoy." Hermione defends, walking up behind him.

"Yeah shove off," Ron growls.

"You're not funny," the Slytherin snaps, taking a step back and taking your wrist. "You either come with me or I tell Snape that you filled the room with candy canes."

"How could I do that? I can't even get in the Slytherin common room."

"Your name was on the card."

"Is that why you wanted to learn the Geminio charm?" Busted.

"I used the Geminio spell on a candy cane so when Malfoy picked it up, they would start multiplying." You admit.

"We can't get it to stop."

"How is that my problem," you protest as he tries to drag you along with him.

"Did you remember to set an amount?"

"Uh... I knew I forgot something."

As much as you struggle you do end up going with Draco. He doesn’t say anything the entire way but his grip suggests that he's still very angry and as the door opens and some candy canes spill out, you realise you may have gone a little too far. You had originally expected a hundred copies or so but this was way more and they didn't seem to be stopping as they spilt out onto the corridor.

"Well... Shit. Probably should have brought Hermione with us."

[riversofmars]

We Don’t Have to Use Words Part 1/2

Back even though no-one asked for it: me writing more Liv and Helen. :D 

One thing I'll say, please don't be mad at me over Tania. I love her, I really do and I want her to be happy, but I would prefer Liv to end up with Helen, that's all. And I really hope i handled the issue well enough. Neither Liv nor Helen are intending to hurt her, okay? I hope that comes across. 

After Helen spends the day hearing about how their neighbours Ron and Tony got together, she confides in Liv about her gay brother. Things had changed so much since the time she grew up in, but some things were still difficult to say. Particularly when she was only coming to terms with those things herself. As they continue their conversation, both women consider their feelings towards each other.

Rating: G

AO3 Link

Part 1

“Am I still a mystery to you as well, Miss Sinclair?“ Liv followed Helen into the kitchen. They were alone in their flat at 107 Baker Street, the Doctor was still out.

“Very much so.“ Helen chuckled as she filled the kettle with water, relaxing a little as the conversation turned less serious. “You build walls around yourself like a fortress.“ She flicked the kettle on to boil while retrieving two mugs from the cupboard. It had become a ritual of sorts between them. They used to do it on the TARDIS too, unwinding over a cuppa after an adventure. Old habits die hard.

“I’m sorry.“ Liv said and Helen looked around, confused at how serious she sounded. The look on her face revealed the damage the off-hand comment had caused.

“That’s not… I didn’t mean that as a criticism…“ Helen back peddled quickly. Liv had given much more weight to her words than she had intended. It hadn’t been an accusation, just a fact. Liv always kept her cards close to her chest and that was just fine. Helen sat the mugs down quickly. Liv looked genuinely hurt, she was biting her lip, evidently considering her response.

“I’m not keeping you out, you know me better than anyone else.“ Liv said, her words strained as if she was trying to swallow frustration and hurt but couldn’t quite manage it.

“Oh no! That’s not what I meant! I don’t… we are the best of friends, Liv, of course I know you and I don’t feel like you’re keeping me at arms length.“ Helen reached out quickly and took Liv’s hand that had become a clenched fist in her jumper. “You’re just a private person and that’s fine. Like I said some things are just not… easy to talk about.“ She gave her a pleading smile, hoping she would understand that she wasn’t meaning to hurt her. Liv’s hand relaxed in her own and Helen was relieved. The kettle turned itself off as the water had finished boiling and Helen looked around. Saved by the bell! “Maybe you were right, we don’t have to use words, making a cup of tea for someone can say just as much…“

It was the way they did things. Those things were signs of a firm friendship. Doing things for each other. Spending time together. They didn’t always need to talk about deep and meaningful things. They had done their share of that for tonight and Helen was keen to move on from that. Her own words, the things she had revealed, were still echoing in her mind. She looked to Liv who was watching her, her expression unreadable, and she hoped she hadn’t revealed too much. The day had brought a lot of emotions to the surface already and she couldn’t bear to think she had made things more complicated with Liv, too.

Helen busied herself making tea, distracting herself from the heavy silence that had suddenly fallen between them. She felt Liv’s eyes on her and wondered how much of what she had said before was still playing on her mind as well.

“You know what else says a hell of a lot?“ Liv’s voice drew her attention and Helen looked around, surprised to find her standing right behind her.

Liv reached up and took her face in her hands, pressing a firm kiss to her lips. Helen froze up and grabbed on to the edge of the work surface behind her, giving her hands something to do other than pulling Liv Chenka close. Her brain couldn’t catch up with what was happening. Liv’s lips were soft and warm against her own, gentle pressure, not demanding but not without desire either. It was even better than she had imagined.

The kiss ended all too soon and Helen just blinked at Liv, perplexed. Liv, for her part, looked up at Helen unsure, seemingly wondering if she had made a terrible mistake. Her lack of response was more telling than anything else.

“I… I’m sorry, I didn’t…“ Quickly, Liv took a step back, retreating to a safe distance. She clenched her hands to fists again, tense and angry with herself.

“Liv…“ Helen found her voice at last, snapping out of her trance. Her heart was pounding in her ears. She felt panic rising inside her, her chest tightening, at the prospect of an impossible choice. She had wondered what it would be like to kiss her best friend, there was no denying that. She was brave enough to admit to herself that that was something she had wanted for a long time. Was it right though? For either of them?

“Did I… misread the… what you said earlier, I assumed…“ Liv struggled for words, she blushed deeply, she averted her eyes and grabbed the edge of her jumper more tightly.

“Yes! I mean, no…“ Helen didn’t know what to say. “What…“

“I thought you meant… when you said you were jealous and…“ The words burst out of Liv like a waterfall of justification, but almost an accusation as well: “And when you said some things weren’t easy to say, I thought you meant…“

“I didn’t, I was talking about Albie and… besides you’re with… Tania and…“ Helen exclaimed, avoidance seemed to be the safest option. She stood to lose so much. She couldn't risk it just because she had gotten emotional.

“That’s why I said, love doesn’t run to a schedule, this might be bad timing but…“ Liv’s voice turned more desperate. Had they both completely misunderstood the other? “I like Tania a lot but we’re just starting out and she’s not…“ Liv felt a twinge of guilt, of course she did, but honesty was the best policy, surely. She had started this so she had to follow through.

“What?“ Helen couldn’t keep up. She was confused.

“She’s not you!“ Liv exclaimed. “If I’d known…“

“Well, uh… you’re… wrong. I’m not… I was just…“ Helen was beginning to panic. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t be the reason her friend broke off a promising relationship when she, herself, was still struggling to come to terms with them. She had no experience in this. Liv had been right. She had never talked about relationships much because it had never been of much interest to her. She should just carry on like that. It would be easiest for everyone.

“Oh…“ Liv’s face fell, Helen’s words hit like a punch in the gut, leaving her winded and disoriented.

“Sorry.“ Helen’s heart broke over the look on her best friend’s face. Did she really feel for her so strongly that her rejection would hurt her so much? Quickly Helen reached out, grabbed her arm before Liv could bolt as she was sure she was about to. “You’re… my best friend and… you’re brave and kind and intelligent and… beautiful, you…“ Helen so badly wanted to undo the damage her words had done.

“So what’s the problem?“ Liv shot back, angry. It didn’t happen often that she would share her heart with anyone and the rejection stung more than she could have imagined.

“I don’t know I… I didn’t even consider that I might… And then you turn up and you’re all confident and strong and, I’m not like that.“ Helen shook her head, hoping Liv would understand. Maybe she couldn’t find the right words to say it but surely she knew her well enough to grasp her meaning.

“You’re the strongest woman I know.“ Liv retorted and her tone was a strange mixture of accusatory and encouraging.

“Don’t make fun of me.“ Helen huffed and let go of Liv’s hand. She could deal with her being hurt and angry with her but she didn’t appreciate her making fun of her.

“I’m not.“ Liv replied, affronted that she would even think that was her intention.

“You can’t joke about these things with me, Liv. I can’t do that. I never… “ Helen shook her head.

“I am not joking. Is that what you think this is, that I’m trying to see if I can push your buttons?“ Liv demanded to know, frustrated. “I know how hard this is for you, I can tell.“ She shrugged and laughed at how ridiculous a conversation they were having. Fighting over something that shouldn’t be a disagreement at all: “And I wouldn’t have said anything if I didn’t think you felt the same way. You said as much earlier!“

“I didn’t know what I was saying, it just came out, I was just trying to make sense of everything and…“ Helen didn’t know how to explain. She couldn’t work it out, it was too big, too complicated to comprehend.

“Then let me help you do just that.“ Liv’s expression softened.

Maybe she could see how much she was struggling, Helen thought. Maybe she could forgive her.

Liv took Helen’s arms that she had hugged protectively around herself and pulled them apart. She ran her hands down her arms until they came to rest around Helen’s trembling fingers. She was trembling all over. “You want to know something that’s easy to say?“ Liv asked softly and Helen averted her eyes, she couldn’t stand the pity she found reflected back at her. “I love you.“ Liv said simply and without hesitation. “See, it’s the most fundamental thing between two people, the most human thing… I love you . You can say it as easily as that.“

“Liv…“ Helen couldn’t look at her, her eyes blurred, her voice became choked up. Liv couldn't even have meant it like that. She was just giving an example about how easily one could talk about their feelings. And yet, the effect those words had on her was profound.

“No, Helen, listen, please.“ Liv could tell that she was about to protest but she couldn’t let her. “I know this isn’t easy for you, I understand, but you can’t let the past dictate your future. This is not the 1960s anymore.“ She gave her hands a tight squeeze. She saw the tears gathering in her best friend's eyes.

“That’s not what it’s about.“ Helen tried to clear her throat but it only made her sound more upset.

“Then what?“ Liv asked. She let go of her hands and cupped her face instead, brushing away her tears with her thumbs. “Help me here, Helen, cause I really want to know.“ She whispered.

“It’s just, I can’t 'cause… timing and…“ Helen gave a desperate little chuckle. Why couldn't she have realised this before now? Any time really. It had been there for so long. Maybe even since the day Liv and the Doctor had broken into her office at the National Museum, she just hadn’t realised it at the time. She had thought about her when they had been split up from them, when she had been with the Eleven on Rykerzon and thought she would never see them again. She had noticed how much she liked being with Liv when they had been on Kaldor. She had accepted she couldn’t be without her in Salzburg. She had spent a lifetime to save her and the Doctor and Liv had spent her one wish on saving her in turn. They had sat together reading fairy tales to each other, held each other close… and yet, none of it had been enough to help her understand herself. Not truly, until today.

“Stop being silly.“ Liv interrupted her thoughts, almost as if she could hear them. “I love you, Helen Sinclair.“ She said, looking into her eyes to make sure she'd heard her. “There, I said it. Easiest thing in the world. And I would have told you sooner if I thought I stood a snowball’s chance in hell that you like me back.“ Liv laughed at how ridiculous a notion it seemed. “But you never said, Helen, you never said . You never spoke of any interest at all, interest in anyone, so I assumed that ruled me out as well.“

“And you didn’t think that maybe my past was holding me back?“ Helen said, barely audible.

“Have I or the Doctor ever given you reason to think we wouldn’t accept you, however, whatever you did?“ Liv asked, incredulous.

“No, of course not…“ Helen shook her head a little without looking at her.

“Then what is holding you back?“ Liv asked softly, stroking more stray tears off her pale cheeks.

“Well, you’re… dating now…“ Helen mumbled and Liv sighed, feeling that twinge of guilt again. Helen was right, the timing was terrible. She had been seeing Tania. Lovely, kind Tania. She didn’t want to hurt her. But they were just starting out, they were still getting to know each other whereas Helen… well, she was Helen . The person dearest to her in the whole universe. She loved Helen, simple as that. She had done so for a very long time but never considered the feeling might be mutual. But now that she did, what was she to do? Should they carry on like nothing had happened? Never speak of it again? Would Liv be able to forgive herself if she let it all go? And allowed things to get more serious with Tania? She liked her and perhaps, in time, she would grow to love her, but could she ever love her as much as she already loved Helen?

“Tania is great, she really is. But you wouldn’t believe the amount of times she has asked about our relationship. I'll talk to her tomorrow and she will understand. We only just met. But the fact of the matter is, Helen, that I’m in love with you.“ Liv said slowly, considering her words. At the end of the day, it was as easy as that. She leaned forward and kissed the tears off her cheeks. “I love how kind and considerate you are. Your quiet strength, your intelligence, your determination, your selflessness and your compassion.“ She punctuated every quality with a kiss. “You make me want to be better, be more like you, I admire you.“

“Oh Liv.“ Helen sobbed, her words only causing her to cry more. “Just stop!“ She blushed deeply, embarrassed by her compliments.

“No, I won’t stop. Not until you realise just how much you mean to me. How serious I am. How much I want you.“ Liv smirked a little, sensing she was wearing down her defences at last.

“Oh shut up.“ Helen leaned forward and silenced her the only way she knew how. The kiss was wet and sloppy with tears but she could feel Liv smiling against her lips, relieved and maybe even a little bit smug. Helen pulled back and wrapped her arms around her. She rested her forehead against hers. “I love you, Liv Chenka.“ The words came to her easier than she thought possible.

“Did I also mention how much I love the way my name rolls off your tongue?“ Liv smirked sheepishly and Helen laughed, her tears drying at last.

“Is that so?“ She chuckled.

“Most definitely.“ Liv nodded eagerly, biting her lip nervously, as if she was going to say something  but thought better of it.

“What are you thinking?“ Helen eyed her curiously, she knew her well enough to spot her hesitation instantly.

“Oh it’s nothing.“ Liv let go of her and reached past her for the mug on the work surface. “Best have this before it gets cold…“

“Liv!“ Helen exclaimed, playfully offended at her attention wandering. She didn’t appreciate the teasing. “What were you going to say? What were you thinking?“

“You really want to know?“ Liv asked, taking a sip of the tea, eyeing Helen over the rim of the mug. The tea was rather cold and much too strong as Helen had forgotten to take the tea bag out. She sat the mug down disappointedly.

“As it clearly relates to me. Yes!“ Helen playfully crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“I was imagining how much I will enjoy hearing you say my name when we’re in bed together.“ Liv answered with a smirk. She had asked. She brought her hands to Helen’s hips, holding her so she couldn’t bolt.

“Liv!“ Helen exclaimed, mortified, blushing scarlet red, though her words made her feel hot all over, not just in her cheeks.

“Thought it might be too soon, but you asked.“ Liv chuckled in amusement. She couldn’t help herself, she pushed her hands up a little, just under the hem of Helen’s blouse.  

“Honestly that’s…“ Helen cleared her throat, averting her eyes, refusing to meet Liv’s piercing gaze.

“What?“ Liv tilted her head playfully. She wasn’t usually one for teasing but Helen’s reaction was wonderful and her proximity was intoxicated. “You think I haven’t thought about it?“ Liv hummed, running her fingertips along her waistline.

“Well, I…“ Helen didn’t have words. She couldn’t think.

“Haven’t you?“ Liv asked leaning closer, pressing her body to Helen’s.

“I… I…“ Helen swallowed hard, her heart was pounding and she felt a strange sort of pull in her gut that she couldn’t remember feeling before, at least not like this. She’d had sex before and she had enjoyed it but she had never felt that burning desire that people spoke of. That fiery passion… she was getting so hot under her collar now, she realised that maybe she had been missing out.

And then, Liv kissed her. Not like before. Not tentative and soft and loving, Gods no . This kiss was so very much like Liv herself: Confident, demanding, passionate, strong. And Helen leaned into it. She kissed her back with equal favour or at least tried to. Liv pushed her tongue inside her mouth and Helen moaned, it was intoxicating, she was making her head spin.

Helen pushed her hands into Liv’s hair for something to hold on to and Liv pulled back, just for a moment. She searched her face for clues, to find out how she was feeling. Was she going too fast? Was this too much? Did Helen even want her to kiss her like that ?

“I’m okay.“ Helen could read the questions in her eyes before the med-tech could voice it. She nodded encouragingly, slightly out of breath but eager to keep going. It was liberating. They had danced around each other for so long, she had taken this long to understand what her feelings even meant, she didn't want to wait any longer to delve into them. “Keep going.“

Liv ran her tongue along her lips that had suddenly turned very dry. She had been teasing Helen, that had been her only intention and kissing her like that, that was something else. Was she really suggesting what she thought she was? As previously proven, they had been known to miscommunicate on occasion.

“You… uh… you mean…“

“I uh…“ Helen blushed deeply when she realised the weight of her words. Was this a good idea? It wasn’t like they had just met and were acting irrationally. They had known each other for a lifetime. Perhaps she wasn’t thinking clearly but who could blame her with Liv Chenka standing so close to her. And there was that pull in the pit of her stomach…

“Liv? Helen?“ A voice called out as the door to the flat opened and they both froze.

“Oh God… It’s the Doctor…“ Helen breathed and Liv quickly put a few paces between them, just in time for the Doctor to stick his head around the door. “Ahh there you are. Had a nice day?“

“Yup, all good.“ Liv forced a smile and Helen nodded quickly:

“Yeah. Brilliant.“

“Great. Is there a cuppa for me?“ The Doctor asked, making his way over to them, eyeing the mugs on the work surface.

“You may need to boil the kettle again. Tea's got cold…“ Liv said, awkwardly folding her arms in front of her chest. She glanced at Helen, wondering what she wanted to do and Helen looked back at her helplessly.

“What are you doing drinking cold tea?“ The Doctor, meanwhile, was absolutely oblivious to their silent exchange.

“I’ve suddenly come over really tired, I might have to head off to bed. How about you, Helen?“ Liv said, giving a little nod towards the door.

“I uh… yeah, actually, been quite the day…“ Helen started nodding, catching her intention.

“What? You don’t even want to know what I’ve been up to?“ The Doctor asked, looking around confused as he filled the kettle with water.

“Maybe tomorrow? I don’t think I have the capacity to focus on one of your stories now…“ Liv gave him an apologetic smile. That certainly was no lie… When she looked at Helen, the prospect of what they could be doing right now was clouding her mind.

“You know the funniest thing happened when we were in the past, like someone trying to send an SOS across the time streams…“ The Doctor carried on but neither of them was really listening.

“Fascinating.“ Liv was halfway to the door already and Helen followed quickly.

“Maybe tomorrow.“

“Am I missing something?“ The Doctor called after them but didn’t get a response. He shrugged and turned back to make his tea.

[aros001]

Read through light novel vol. 6. Random thoughts.

She hurried along behind the others, but she couldn’t quite get the image of the red-haired spell caster out of her mind.

Maybe I’m just imagining things, but...he looked really familiar.

Let me guess...

[Chapter 3]

Nailed it!

“How many?” Guild Girl asked, her pen scratching on the paper. “Oh, and break them down by quest, please.”

“Thirty-four for the first quest.”

He suddenly fell silent. Guild Girl stopped writing and looked up, and Goblin Slayer added quietly, “and ten or less missing.”

“Missing?”

“We went in, rescued the hostage, and flooded the nest. I confirmed thirty- four bodies. There can’t be more than ten left.”

You can tell this series has done a good job making the goblins feel like a threat that I'm really concerned about any goblins escaping the nest Goblin Slayer flooded. With how quickly they learn and how much he tries to keep them from learning his methods, now I'm going to be worried about some goblins down the line breaking open a dam and flooding a village because of how well it worked against them.

This is a weird thing to focus on but why do goblins get so excited over elf women compared to the women of other species? It just gets brought up a lot through the series when seeing things from the goblins' POV. Is it because of their beauty, their age, some kind of ancient grudge between elves and goblins, or is it just that they smell particularly good? Because back in vol. 1 Goblin Slayer made a point about goblin noses being quite sensitive to the smells of women, children, and elves. Obviously they're cruel and lustful to any women they want to capture but they keep singling out specifically High Elf Archer when she's with human women. Closest I've seen to an answer is in this volume, with the goblins knowing that elf meat apparently keeps for longer.

“All right,” he said. Then the helmet turned toward the boy. “Let’s go.”

Ugh. Not expecting much from this meal.

The boy nodded grudgingly then heaved himself to his feet and followed after Goblin Slayer.

If the food sucks, I’m knocking over that table.

This kid's starting to piss me off.

“Heh! I know you’re back-row, but there’s no way someone as weepy and blubbering as you could ever get promoted!”

That sent High Elf Archer’s ears straight back, and she began looking for their antagonist. The owner of the voice rose unsteadily from one of the benches.

It was the red-haired boy—dressed in a robe, holding a staff, wearing glasses. That wizard.

Priestess spent only a second with her mouth open in shock, then the corners of her eyes tightened angrily.

“I—I’m not weepy!”

“I dunno ’bout that. I hear all you clerics like a good cry.” He gave a dismissive sniff and didn’t even open his eyes all the way as he looked at Priestess. Maybe he thought all this diligent ridicule made him look cool.

He didn’t seem to realize that it just made him seem like a slimy villain.

“Whenever you’re in trouble, it’s O gods, please, save me! Boo-hoo-hoo!, right?”

...I want to break his nose. Specifically I want Priestess and/or Goblin Slayer to break his nose.

The only spell he could use was Fireball, and he could only use it once per day.

THE MORON ONLY HAD ONE SPELL HE COULD USE AND ONLY ONCE A DAY?! Priestess already had to keep him from using it once against a basic encounter with goblins! What the hell was he planning on doing after that for the rest of the nest?! Just beating them with his staff?! He doesn't seem like the type to see any merit in fighting like a barbarian and certainly not the type to dirty his magic conduit. His sister was apparently top of her class so I'm assuming she actually had at least two or more spells she could use (I don't remember what specially was said she could do back in vol. 1) and Priestess had two Miracles she could use three times a day.

Ron Weasley, year one at Hogwarts, is a better wizard than this kid! Think about that! He actually used his one spell exactly when he needed it and beat a troll!

It was funny all the ways Goblin Slayer found around High Elf Archer's rules, but it's also kind of funny that now he just seems to be ignoring them. He flooded a nest (finally got to use a scroll for the reason he bought it) and set a troll on fire. Though I like what even she pointed out, that he holds back on such methods when the goblins have a hostage. Also I suppose her main problem was using fire, water, and poison to attack from a distance or flush out the goblins and then pick them off methodically, making it feel like less of an adventure. Then again, it's goblins. She already doesn't consider that an adventure. The goal is less exploration and more pest control.

Aw, Sword Maiden and Noble Fencer are friends. That's sweet.

Just like with how Goblin Slayer's equipment and methods relate to goblins, I love just reading about Dwarf Shaman talk about magic and the basic principles of it, as well as Lizard Priest talking about his culture. It's just little details I like getting wrapped up in. It's very simple yet believable logic how Wizard Boy's eyes were opened to him actually having four spells instead of just one; breaking down something complicated into its smaller parts.

Again, so glad Spearman isn't a Motoyasu. I'm actively glad Goblin Slayer has someone like him and Heavy Warrior in his life. Also, this is funny only just because it's in comparison to the last few light novel series I've read prior to this, but:

Overlord: Protagonist is a skeleton. Can't drink.

Konosuba: Protagonist can drink but it's his useless companion whom usually gets drunk

Rising of the Shield Hero: Protagonist physically can't get drunk. Immunity to toxins too high.

Goblin Slayer: Protagonist drank, got drunk, puked in an alley, went out drinking with friends on another day, had a hangover the next morning, still went out to kill goblins. I really hope he got his helmet open before he threw up because it's already got to smell not pleasant and you know he wouldn't be removing his helmet on the walk home.

I like that you can kind of tell Goblin Slayer is reapplying Burgler's teachings to Priestess (minus the parts where he'd throw stuff at her). At the big moments he doesn't tell her she can or can't do something, rather he asks if she can or listens to the plan she's come up with. As Burgler taught him, once you decide to do something and act on it, you've already won. His words about power not mattering if you can't even do that much feel like they can apply even more to Priestess, as she has next to no offensive abilities and thus gaining power that'd be useful in killing goblins is even less of an option for her than it was for Goblin Slayer.

Despite all my prior words, I didn't hate Wizard Boy. It's just that undeserved arrogance is one of the quickest ways to get me to be against a character, especially when they're loud about how much better they think they are and their ego actively causes problems for others (Ben 10 in his later series is the most immediate example for me). There are plenty of arrogant and egotistical characters in fiction that I really love, like Lex Luthor or Mandy from The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy, but usually they can back up their arrogance and they're more "speak softly and carry a big stick". They don't need to boast about how good they are, they just let their actions speak for them. Wizard Boy, I get it, he's going through a character arc and he does grow somewhat during this book. It's just that his sense of superiority despite being in WAY over his head and his disrespect even after he learns his lesson makes it a little hard to be on his side. Hopefully his new adventuring partner can help straighten him out a bit more, and of course I love all the ways his presence caused Goblin Slayer to reflect and evaluate himself, given what they have in common.

This is probably me just looking too deep into things again, but I'm curious what was bigger source of guilt for Goblin Slayer in this book: that he couldn't save Wizard Boy's sister, thus reminding him of his own and making him feel like nothing's changed since he started killing goblins, or that he was the one who killed her? Obviously I think the former is more likely, given the themes and parallels in this book, but it's shown often that despite how he talks, looks, and carries himself, Goblin Slayer isn't some cold-hearted, unfeeling monster. He does care about people and even though it was a mercy kill Wizard begged for I can see him having some heavy feelings weighing on him after killing someone innocent, especially with Wizard Boy's presence forcing him to confront that reality again.

Original Reddit post: https://www.reddit.com/r/GoblinSlayer/comments/fxut3s/read_through_light_novel_vol_6_random_thoughts/