#ginny does that writing thing

[drjackabbots]

that last gifset made me sad that we never got a follow up to the Mel/Abbot "Talk to me at the end of the day" scene

Mel’s convinced she’s made it to the door without anyone noticing her before a voice stops her dead in her tracks.

“Dr. King.”

It’s said in that sort of way that’s not really a question even if someone else would frame it like that, and Mel lets her shoulders rise up a little towards her ears as she slowly turns.

Oh, boy.

“I’d like a word before you leave,” Dr. Abbot says calmly, and Mel tries to smile at him. She’s had pretty limited interaction with him, given that basically every conversation had the undertone of ‘this person is dying, can you please come help if it’s not too much trouble’, but she can already tell that Dr. Abbot takes no nonsense as more than just a personality trait. It’s probably more like a way of life.

“Oh, right,” she says, fiddling with her bag. “Yeah! Yeah. Of course. Sure.”

Dr. Abbot leads her a little aways from the exit while everyone else is getting all their things together. She can see the way that he glances over at Dr. Robby, who seems to be headed towards a conversation with Dana, and then his attention is on her again. He holds eye contact like it comes naturally to him, while Mel has to fight to keep it without fidgeting or turning away. He’s intimidating, and she’s preparing herself for whatever reprimand is about to come down on her head. Was it the spinal tap against the parents’ wishes? The way she told on Santos about the REBOA? Maybe the way she kept sneaking off to gather her wits? There are probably a million—

“I wanted to apologize for this morning,” Dr. Abbot says curtly, and Mel blinks up at him.

“...um,” she says, because she can’t really think of anything else. “I’m… sorry? For… what, exactly?”

“This morning,” he repeats. “When I told you to talk to me at the end of your shift.”

The conversation feels like so many worlds away that Mel has to genuinely think about it. She must’ve lived at least three lives in the span of the last fifteen hours, but when the memory finally slides into place, she bites her lip and then shrugs as nonchalantly as she can.

“Oh. I mean… You were right,” she says quietly, picking at the skin of her thumb with her index finger at her side. “I definitely feel different than I did when I came in. It was a lot. And I learned a lot! For sure. But it was…” She clears her throat. “You don’t… need to apologize or anything, even if I appreciate the thought—”

“I do need to apologize,” he interrupts, and she falls silent. “You’re an exceptional doctor, from what Robby told me. I might’ve been in a bad mood when you introduced yourself, but that was no reason for me to shoot you down like that. Especially not after the shitshow today ended up being.”

It’s a lot to take in with the way her brain’s starting to feel like it’s full of lead, and it takes Mel a second to process what he’s saying. Dr. Abbot’s a lot taller than she is, and he stands with his hands clasped behind his back like some kind of drill sergeant, and his tone brokers zero argument. But the words exceptional doctor come through clear as day, and under that stoic and sarcastic persona, Mel thinks there might be someone almost gentle there. A softness underneath the scars. Or, at least, she hopes so.

“...yeah,” she says, nodding and laughing a little. It’s not exactly funny, and there’s not a lot of mirth in it, but it’s a laugh anyway. “Yeah, it—yeah, today was a shitshow.”

“But you did good.” Dr. Abbot holds that eye contact when she tries to look away, following her like a bird. “You know that, right?”

The way he says it comes with so much conviction that Mel doesn’t even question it this time. She swallows hard, thinking of everything that’s happened today. None of it felt good, and none of it felt like she was making any progress, but… she can believe it, in this moment, that she proved herself. At least there’s that.

“Yeah,” she says softly. “I tried to. I hope I did.”

“You did,” he insists, like it’s a personal mission.

Although it takes a second, Mel nods.

Then, to her shock, she gets a smile. It’s not a bright, cheerful smile, but there’s something… kind about it. Dr. Abbot isn’t like Dr. Robby, and maybe that’s a good thing when it’s needed. The smile’s gone as quickly as it came, and Dr. Abbot straightens up again from where he’d tilted his head to follow her eyes when she tried to look away.

“Don’t forget that,” he says, hitching his bag more securely onto his shoulder. “And don’t let an old shit like me get to you. This place needs more people like you. The patients need more people like you. So you keep going. You got it, Dr. King?”

A proud warmth blossoms in her chest, tendrils of it trying to reach out and brighten the tired agony of the day. It hadn’t felt like that, most of the day, but between Dr. Abbot and Dr. Robby’s affirmations, Mel thinks she might just be able to come back tomorrow.

“Got it,” she replies, and Dr. Abbot nods as he turns on his heel.

“Good,” he says, and throws a vague goodbye wave over his shoulder as he makes his way towards Dr. Robby waiting for him near the exit to triage. “Now get out of here before you change your mind.”

That’s really all she needs. Dr. Robby gives her a little wave too, and she returns it with probably too much false cheer. She can see it in his eyes that the day’s gone just as poorly for him as it has her.

Once they’re both gone, Mel pushes the door open with her shoulder and takes off down the street. She’s already thinking about how she needs to pick up Becca and how to finagle a shower without waking her up once Mel convinces her to go to bed, but the words echo in her mind. That warmth in her chest stays, beating in time with her heart as she rounds a corner and holds her phone up to her ear.

“Hey,” she says, counting down each number on the crosswalk across the street as they flicker one by one. “I’m done with my shift. I’m coming to pick you up, okay?”

Becca’s full of delight, as always. It keeps that warm feeling flickering like a campfire.

“Did your first day go okay? How do you like it there? Is it fun?”

Mel smiles, waiting for the last car to drive by as she’s hit with a familiar barrage of questions.

“We’ll see how I feel after a few more shifts,” she says, hurrying across the street. “Anyway, what about you? You’re going to have to tell me all about your day when I get there.”

It wasn’t the VA, that’s for sure, but… she could learn to love the Pitt. She could learn to make it her home, and the people there a weird, messed up sort of family. She can come back and try again.

As long as every day doesn’t end up like today, anyway.

also on ao3!

[carewyncromwell]

"Don't talk 'bout me

Like how you might know how I feel --

Top of the world, but your world isn't real...

Your world's an ideal...

So go have fun -- I really couldn't care less."

~"Therefore I Am" by Billie Eilish

x~x~x~x

When Carewyn Cromwell first joined the Department of Magical Law Enforcement as an up-and-coming lawyer in the spring of 1991, Cornelius Fudge -- the Minister for Magic -- was very eager to welcome her and show support for her budding career. It didn't take long for Carewyn to figure out that Fudge had heard all about her and her brother Jacob's exploits dealing with the Cursed Vaults and apprehending R -- not just from Dumbledore, but from OWL examiner Professor Tofty and infamous Auror Mad-Eye Moody -- and although Carewyn had had plenty of people side-eye her for her dealing with the Vaults at school, it seemed Fudge held no such disapproval. On the contrary, he seemed very keen on interacting with Carewyn, especially around his support staff and the rest of the Wizengamot. And it wasn't until Carewyn finally met him (as well as his Senior Undersecretary, Dolores Umbridge) that she figured out why.

Carewyn had known she wouldn't be the first Cromwell that sought a career in Magical Law. Her Head of House, Severus Snape, purposefully brought it up to her in their Career Advice session, to make sure she was aware that -- at the time of her interest -- Carewyn's ruthless grandfather, Charles Cromwell, was an influential member of the Wizengamot. After Charles's arrest and lifetime imprisonment, the Cromwell Clan's reputation had understandably been tarnished. Carewyn and Jacob's reputations, however, were shining and pristine, because they were the Cromwells who had actually defeated Charles and the rest of R and in the process saved Hogwarts from the danger of the Cursed Vaults. And considering that Fudge was related to the Cromwell Clan through marriage (a fact that still left Carewyn reeling) and had apparently done his fair share of socializing with Charles Cromwell while unaware of his crimes, it was very clear that Fudge wanted to distance himself from that old association, preferably by being on good terms with the people who'd brought Charles to justice. And since Carewyn was now pursuing a promising new career at the Ministry, Fudge had clearly deemed it in his best interest to throw his support behind Carewyn, so as to have her esteem and reputation likewise reflect nicely on him.

So Fudge only has interest in being around people who make him look good, rather than anyone with actual integrity, Carewyn thought cynically. Guess I shouldn't be surprised that the chief politician around here acts like it.

Despite herself, though, Carewyn was disappointed. All the more so when she learned in the spring of 1993 just how self-absorbed the man was, despite being given charge of the entire British Wizarding World.

It all started when -- in the midst of a busy night shift -- Carewyn's meeting with fellow lawyer Chester Davies was interrupted by her old school friend Ben Copper bursting into her office.

"Carewyn," he said urgently, "Hagrid's been arrested."

Both Carewyn and Chester whirled around.

"What!?" they cried in unison.

"How can that be?" Chester immediately followed up, sounding confused. "I didn't even know Hagrid was under investigation -- let alone charged with anything..."

He looked to Carewyn as if to ask if she had, but Carewyn wasn't paying attention. She got up from her chair and strolled around her desk over to Ben, taking hold of his shoulder and steering him into the office so she could close the door.

"Tell me everything," she said seriously.

Ben rested his forehead on his clenched fist as he propped his elbow against the wall of Carewyn's office.

"I was just finishing up my work for the day, when I saw Hagrid by the Floo grates with two Hitwizards, talking to Cornelius Fudge," he explained. "Fudge was apologizing, saying something about 'it just being a precaution' and that he was sure once things at Hogwarts settled down, he'd be able to go about his business as usual. Fudge even tried to tell Hagrid that Azkaban shouldn't really be that bad for him -- "

Ben looked absolutely disgusted repeating back such a blatant lie. Carewyn was just as furious herself.

"'Shouldn't be that bad?'" she repeated, her soft voice nonetheless dripping with horror and umbrage. "What, does he think only violent criminals are affected by dementors?"

"Likely!" Ben spat, his brown eyes flashing with righteous anger. "I went over and asked what was going on, and Hagrid explained that it was because of the whole 'Chamber of Secrets' mess. Fudge didn't seem to want to talk about it and kind of just blustered the same rubbish he'd said to Hagrid -- claimed the Hogwarts school governors had been concerned and he'd thought he should take measures to 'reassure' them and the public -- "

"Reassure them?" said Chester, his mouth falling open in disbelief. "But -- you can't mean -- the Minister can't really think that Hagrid opened the Chamber of Secrets?"

"No -- but apparently because Hagrid was expelled right after the Chamber of Secrets opened the first time, Fudge is perfectly willing to throw him under the bus anyway, just to make it look like he's doing something," Ben said vindictively. "Apparently he's letting the exact same thing happen to Dumbledore too."

"What do you mean?" said Carewyn, her eyebrows furrowing.

Ben leaned his back up against the wall, crossing his arms.

"Hagrid said that Dumbledore and Fudge had come to see him at his hut about an hour ago, when Lucius Malfoy crashed the meeting out of nowhere, just to round Dumbledore up and expel him from the grounds. Apparently that snake Malfoy somehow got all of the other school governors to sign off on the proposal."

The mention of Lucius Malfoy made Carewyn's eyes flare with resentment. Of course Malfoy would be the sort to take advantage of a bad situation to try to oust his old master You-Know-Who's greatest enemy.

"But -- but taking Dumbledore away could only make things worse," said Chester. He clearly had a hard time making sense of all this. "Surely the Minister wouldn't agree to that? He's gone to Dumbledore for advice for years..."

"But how could Fudge have arrested Hagrid in the first place?" Carewyn rerouted the conversation sharply. "The Hitwizards can't arrest anyone without the charges first going through the Department of Magical Law Enforcement...how fast must the charges have gone through, for Chester and me not to have heard anything about them?"

"That's because Fudge didn't involve the Hitwizards or the Wizengamot at first," Ben said coldly. "The Hitwizards I saw looked just as surprised by what they were hearing as I was...even if they did end up going lockstep with Fudge and took Hagrid away through the grate anyway. I reckon Fudge just asked Hagrid to come with him quietly, so he wouldn't have to get the Hitwizards involved..."

"Or have his activities draw too much attention," Carewyn finished.

Her low voice evoked the rumbles of an earthquake as she swept to the door. Opening it, she glanced over her shoulder at Chester, her blue eyes blazing with righteous fire despite the stoicism of her face.

"Chester...I'm afraid I'll have to leave you to finish editing the case file," she said curtly.

"What are you planning to do?" asked Chester.

"Speak to Madam Bones. Hagrid needs a lawyer, and I intend to be it."

x~x~x~x

It only took a half-hour for Carewyn to blaze through all the paperwork needed to become Hagrid's official legal counsel. Unfortunately Azkaban's visiting hours were only from sun-up to sun-down, with each visitor only being allowed an hour each day with a Patronus escort either provided by the warden or conjured by the visitor themselves. The conditions were very familiar to Carewyn -- she'd been reminded them every time she chose to visit Patricia Rakepick in her lonely cell block.

When Carewyn finally made it to Azkaban first thing the next morning and was led to the cell Hagrid had been squeezed into, she found the poor gamekeeper crumpled up in a huge ball, sobbing like a child.

"Dad -- 'm sorry, Dad -- "

Even with her Abraxan Winged Horse Patronus protecting her from the dementors' influence, Carewyn could feel a cold, ocean-like wave of despair crash over her, just looking at Hagrid. Her almond-shaped blue eyes welled up with empathetic pain.

"...Oh, Hagrid..."

She clutched the bars of his cell with her free hand as her Patronus swept through the bars, lightly brushing its nose along Hagrid's arm. Hagrid choked, blinking up through his tears as he shakily raised his head.

"...W...wha'...?"

The grief and paleness of Hagrid's usually rosy, happy face broke Carewyn's heart. She could feel her own eyes welling up with traces of tears as she tried to smile at him.

"It's me, Hagrid," Carewyn said gently. "It's Carewyn."

Hagrid's beetle-black eyes widened. Then, just as abruptly, they flooded with even more tears, which streamed down his face like pouring rain might streak down a windowpane.

"...Carewyn..."

He couldn't keep himself from breaking down into full sobs as he crawled over and slapped his oversized hands up against the bars -- they were too small for him to grab them the way Carewyn had. Even so, Carewyn tried to take his hand as best she could, even if it only resulted in her holding his pinky and ring finger.

"It's okay, Hagrid," Carewyn whispered as soothingly as she could. Her Abraxan Patronus gently rested its transparent wing over Hagrid's shoulder and rested its head beside his arm. "It's going to be okay..."

x~x~x~x

It took sitting with Carewyn and her Patronus for a couple of minutes before Hagrid was able to speak coherently. He told Carewyn everything that had happened, including the reason Fudge had thought he could be behind the attacks in the first place.

"...Th' whole lot thought that he'd been what hurt poor Myrtle Warren, bu' -- bu' I'm tellin' you, Aragog wouldn't-a done it!" said Hagrid. "I tol' 'em that at th' time too...bu' only Professor Dumbledore believed me..."

Carewyn nodded. That sounded about right -- for as much as she resented Dumbledore, the Headmaster had always supported Hagrid. And given the Headmaster's own talent for Legilimency, Carewyn suspected Dumbledore knew full-well Hagrid was telling the truth, just as much as she herself was certain of it. But she also knew that her intuitions based on her Legilimency couldn't be used as evidence of either guilt or innocence...and even if Hagrid didn't believe Aragog was the beast from the Chamber of Secrets and Carewyn doubted it as well, plenty of people could see the circumstances as pretty damning, on their own.

"And because no one else believed you, Headmaster Dippet expelled you with the thought that it would make the attacks stop," surmised Carewyn.

Hagrid hung his head. "...Yeah. An' well...th' attacks did stop, after tha'. Dunno why, aside from th' person maybe decidin' t' cut 'is losses..."

Carewyn's lips came together grimly as she looked at the floor. The gamekeeper's face went that little bit paler as his eyes flooded with fresh tears.

"Yeh -- yeh don't think I did it, d'yeh?" he said desperately. "I-I would never! I woulda never hurt 'em -- Nick an' Mrs. Norris, an' -- an' poor Hermione -- oh, Carewyn, I never woulda -- !"

Carewyn gave Hagrid's pinky a reassuring squeeze.

"I know, Hagrid," she said firmly. "I know you didn't do it. All of those Pureblood wizarding families that claimed to be related to Salazar Slytherin have died out -- and trust me, 'Hagrid' was not one of them. And the beast inside the Chamber of Secrets was supposedly put there by Salazar Slytherin around the time he and the other four Founders made the Cursed Vaults, back in the 9th century. Acromantula weren't bred until the 18th century. Aragog couldn't be Slytherin's monster."

Her eyes softened.

"...And I know you, Hagrid. You love everyone at Hogwarts, even the brattiest students. I know you would never do anything to hurt them."

Hagrid's teary eyes crinkled up to make room for a very weak, watery smile.

"...Thank you, Carewyn," he gave a loud sniff. "It...it means a lot...knowin' yeh believe in me..."

Carewyn gave a gentle pat to his hand through the bars. Hagrid gave another loud sniff.

"...D'yeh...d'yeh know if the Wizengamot'll be able t' stop Malfoy? Get 'em t' bring Dumbledore back?"

Carewyn pursed her lips grimly. "There's nothing for them to stop, at present. The school governors' job is to oversee the school and its Headmaster -- them asking Dumbledore to resign is a completely legal action for them to take."

Hagrid looked distressed. "Bu' -- bu' withou' Dumbledore there, everyone'll be in more danger than ever! Professor Dumbledore was likely the only thing that kept th' Heir o' Slytherin from goin' all out -- "

"That doesn't mean the Wizengamot can overrule the governors' decision," Carewyn said sternly. She then said a bit more gently, "...I know how much you respect Dumbledore -- and you're right, Dumbledore has warded Dark wizards away from the school before..."

Not that he was able to prevent R from sending Jacob and me threats, but they still didn't feel bold enough to show up in full-force until Dumbledore was away...

"...But however foolish their decision might be, it doesn't break any laws. And law enforcement is meant for that purpose -- enforcing laws that have been broken."

Hagrid looked incredibly disheartened.

"They're gonna regret it later," he muttered miserably. "Yeh jus' wait an' see..."

Carewyn gave Hagrid's pinky another light squeeze, exhaling quietly through her nose.

She thought so too -- but she was so unhappy just contemplating the consequences that she didn't have to heart to say so.

x~x~x~x

The consequences, as it turned out, were even worse than Carewyn could've envisioned.

After going out for an afternoon coffee break with Talbott one May day, Carewyn found the Ministry Atrium in disarray, with multiple owls flying in and out of the offices of the Minister of Magic and his support staff and nosy reporters crowding around in an attempt to figure out what was going on.

Tonks emerged from the crowd and filled them in -- apparently the reporters had heard rumors that there'd been another attack at Hogwarts by the Heir of Slytherin, this time with a student actually being taken into the Chamber itself. It was only once Talbott convinced Tonks to change herself temporarily into one of Dolores Umbridge's staffers so she could force her way through the reporters and get more information from the support staff herself that she found out who it was -- and when the pink-haired Auror caught up with Talbott and Carewyn in the Atrium, her heart-shaped face was as white as a sheet.

"Weasley," Tonks whispered shakily. "Fudge said the girl's name was Weasley..."

Talbott's shoulders stiffened as Carewyn's hands flew to her mouth in horror.

"Ginny," she gasped.

x~x~x~x

Talbott, Tonks, and Carewyn all bolted to the lift, taking it up to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement where they could use the Auror Department's Floo Network grate specifically meant for communication. Upon trying to contact the Burrow, however, Carewyn found the house quiet and deserted.

"Are they not there?" Tonks asked Carewyn anxiously as she took her head out of the grate. The ginger-haired lawyer shook her head.

"The school must've contacted Mr. and Mrs. Weasley as soon as it happened," Talbott said solemnly.

Carewyn nodded, her red lips knitting together tightly. "I've got to write to Bill and Charlie right away -- "

"I'll go to Hogsmeade," said Talbott at once. "There might be more information, closer to the school..."

"And I'll go back downstairs!" Tonks agreed. "Maybe I'll pick up some more intel, huddled in with all those reporters -- "

The three dispersed, with Talbott and Tonks heading back to the lift and Carewyn heading to her office. Once she'd very quickly written out a letter each for Bill and Charlie and put all of the expediting stamps on them that she possibly could, she then set about writing another more formal letter to Azkaban prison. Then she raced back to the lift, gave Bill and Charlie's letters to the two fastest owls she could find, and then headed straight for the Minister for Magic's office with the final piece of paper in her hand. The tiny ginger-haired lawyer had some trouble pushing her way through the crowd of reporters until Tonks -- disguised as one of them and therefore much taller and more muscular than usual -- managed to push everyone back enough that it gave her an opening.

When Carewyn reached the slightly open door of the Minister for Magic's office, she didn't even bother to knock the way she probably would've in any other circumstance. Quite frankly she didn't think the Minister would've heard her knock even if she tried, and if he did, he likely would've tried to ignore it, given how much owls were swooping in and out of his office and how noisy it was outside.

"Minister!" Carewyn said urgently.

Fudge looked up, incredibly startled. He'd been pacing the room, one letter in his hands and five left more open on his desk. His trademark light green bowler hat was hanging off the side of his high-backed chair, and he looked incredibly harried.

"Carewyn!" said Fudge, trying and failing to smile. "How nice it is to see you!"

Once Carewyn was in, she immediately shut the door behind her so sharply that Fudge gave a start.

"Ah -- forgive me, my dear, but...I'm afraid I'm very busy at the moment --"

"I know," said Carewyn. "Minister -- I need you to sign a release letter for Rubeus Hagrid."

Fudge was taken aback. "Hagrid? I-I don't -- "

"If the Heir of Slytherin has taken Ginny Weasley into the Chamber of Secrets, then he's still at Hogwarts," Carewyn said sharply. "Therefore Hagrid is innocent."

"Well, yes, but...that'll be dealt with, in due time," said Fudge with an attempt at a reassuring smile as he put down the letter in his hands and started to make a stack of it with the others. "I'll be sure to send along a proper letter to Azkaban, once I get these papers in order, and calm the press -- "

"You needn't send anything," Carewyn cut him off firmly. "I've already written out a formal release, and I'll be happy to deliver it myself -- you only need to sign it."

She put the letter down smack-dab in the center of his desk, right on over the stack of parchment he was organizing. Fudge, however, seemed hesitant to look at it, and instead busied himself with consulting the stack.

"Ah, well...I do appreciate your initiative, Carewyn," Fudge said in a weak attempt at indulgence, "but as I said, this...all will be dealt with, in due time. Now I'm truly sorry, but I'm afraid we'll have to speak more later -- I do have so much to do, in the light of all this -- "

"Minister!" Carewyn said, clearly upset.

" -- responding to all these letters from the governors, from Minerva McGonagall, from Arthur Weasley -- coordinating a response, for all press releases, and sending it along to the Prophet -- all before heading out to the school myself, to ascertain the gravity of the situation -- "

Carewyn could hear Fudge's rambling, but it was oddly muffled, in her own ears. Because of her Legilimency, she could sense Fudge's feelings wafting off of him just as clearly as she could hear him with her ears -- and in that moment, when she herself was so urgent, all she could feel from Fudge was the desire to run. To avoid, to push away, to ignore -- to not deal with his terrible mistake at that moment, and instead just try to make himself look as capable as he could to the public at large --

All that Carewyn could feel coming off of Fudge was cowardice.

And it was this that made Carewyn cut into his rambling with the cold sharpness of a knife.

"Minister."

Carewyn managed to catch Fudge's eye, and when he made eye contact with her, his voice immediately died in his throat. Her almond-shaped blue eyes were burning with a kind of cold disapproval the likes of which he'd never seen.

"I realize that you wish to be seen as a compassionate and attentive leader," Carewyn said very softly. "But trust that, in leaving an innocent person locked up in a prison manned by creatures that can drive people mad with their Dark aura alone -- when all you'd have to do to help him is sign your name...you currently appear as anything but."

Fudge opened his mouth, trying to stammer out a weak attempt at a stern response. "N-now, Carewyn -- I-I already told you I'd deal with -- "

But Carewyn merely picked up the release letter again and slapped it right back down on the desk in front of him.

"Minister -- you've already wrongfully sent a man to Azkaban before he'd even been formally charged with a crime," she murmured. "All while being quite certain he hadn't committed the crime in the first place, to the point that you reassured him that he'd probably be released 'once things settled down.'"

Carewyn's blue eyes narrowed.

"...Don't shame yourself further."

The Minister's face had lost quite a bit of its color as he stared at Carewyn. He rather shakily lowered himself down into his chair, regarding Carewyn with a wariness he never had before. Then, looking almost cowed, he averted his eyes, reached for the quill in the inkpot at his desk, and signed the release letter. He mutely held the letter out for Carewyn to take.

"Thank you," Carewyn said quietly.

She turned on her heel and headed for the door. When she opened it, ten owls swooped in, flocking around Fudge's desk and raining even more letters onto and around his desk.

"If I may make a suggestion, Minister," Carewyn said a bit more levelly as she left, "going to Hogwarts right now to deal with the problem would both make you look more proactive and give you some relief from all these letters."

Without waiting for Fudge's response, Carewyn left his office. Once she'd pushed her way through the crowd of reporters (even taking out her wand at one point to better coax them back), she dashed over to the closest Floo Network grate, snatching up some Powder in her free hand and chucking it down at her heeled feet as she climbed in.

"Azkaban Prison!"

And in a burst of emerald green flames, Carewyn had disappeared.

x~x~x~x

Once Hagrid had been released from his cell, Carewyn brought him with her to her mother Lane's new cottage, out in the country. The half-giant was still in pretty poor shape after his three-week-long stint in Azkaban, and since Carewyn knew he'd never fit in her tiny London flat, she figured at least Lane's new home would be a comfortable place to get Hagrid fed and healed and await further news from the Weasleys and Hogwarts.

As the night wore on, Carewyn received a few short updates from Tonks and Talbott -- Hogwarts was going to be closed; the girl's parents were at the school; the school governors were convening for a secret closed-door meeting. It wasn't until very early the following morning that Carewyn, Hagrid, and Lane received the news they'd all been hoping for, in the form of a long letter from Mrs. Weasley.

Carewyn dear, Bill wrote to Arthur and me telling me of your letter to him, so after following up with him and Charlie via Floo, I thought it best to write to you straightaway. Ginny is all right. My son Ron, his friend Harry, and their Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, Gilderoy Lockhart, were able to locate the Chamber of Secrets, and Harry, bless him, was able to both kill Slytherin's monster (a basilisk! Merlin's beard, I was terrified, thinking of that poor boy facing off against that thing!) and rescue Ginny. Arthur and I are so grateful, even now I still can't stop crying. We're so relieved to know Ginny's safe, and that Ron and Harry are both safe as well. Unfortunately poor Gilderoy Lockhart apparently had his memory wiped...at his own hand, no less! He actually had the audacity to try to modify my son's memory! I suppose it's true what they say about never meeting your heroes!! Oh well, it seems Professor Dumbledore will have to find yet another Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for next year. Oh, yes, I nearly forgot -- Dumbledore has returned to Hogwarts! Apparently all of the school governors (excluding Lucius Malfoy) heard about what happened to Ginny and immediately sent a letter to Dumbledore begging for him to come back. And he did, of course -- he was so gentle with Ginny, after her ordeal... Oh, but Carewyn dear, truly, I cannot thank you enough for caring so much for Bill and Charlie. Arthur had sent them his own letters not long before we left for Hogwarts, but from what I understand, your letters reached both Bill and Charlie well before Arthur's did, and I appreciate you trying so hard to make sure they knew what was going on as quickly as possible. Arthur and I send our love, and Ginny as well. Do consider coming over to the Burrow for a visit sometime soon -- Ginny was a bit cheered at the thought of having "another girl" over for dinner! Your mother and brother are more than welcome as well, if they're available. Arthur would be delighted to know what your mother thinks about pinball machines. All our love, Molly Weasley

Not long later, Hagrid returned to Hogwarts, and Carewyn returned to work at the Ministry. It was when she returned to the Ministry that Carewyn noticed Cornelius Fudge's attitude toward her had gone through a considerable change. When she arrived in the Atrium, she caught sight of the Minister likewise heading into work. At the sight of her, Fudge immediately approached her -- but his smile was not as wide open and overly amiable as it was before.

"Hello, Miss Cromwell," he said.

Carewyn blinked. "...Minister."

Fudge inclined his head respectfully. Taking a quick glance around the Atrium, he then spoke a bit more stridently.

"...Professor Dumbledore told me that Hagrid has settled himself back in nicely. He expressed admiration, for your defense of him...Madam Bones did, as well."

Carewyn frowned as her eyes drifted off toward the lift.

"Hagrid was my client," she said simply. "It was my job to advocate for his well-being. And it wasn't either lawful or right for him to remain imprisoned for a crime he didn't commit."

To Carewyn's surprise, Fudge's pleasant expression actually seemed to crack a bit, betraying something strangely insecure.

"I suppose so," said the Minister a bit stiffly. "Well then, Miss Cromwell...I'm afraid I must be off."

He paused. Then, forcing a slightly more politician-worthy smile, he asked, "I hope...I might likewise call on you in the future...should I wish for an expert legal opinion? Madam Bones does speak very highly of your abilities as a lawyer, you know."

Carewyn cocked her eyebrows in surprise. She honestly wasn't expecting that.

"...Of course," she said, once she'd recovered.

Fudge tipped his lime green bowler to her, before turning and sweeping away toward his office. As Carewyn watched him go, she couldn't help but frown.

It was bizarre -- it didn't feel like Fudge disliked her now or anything after she'd so coldly called him out in his office. Even so, there was a wall around his feelings that wasn't there before: something guarded. And yet it didn't seem suspicious or mistrustful. If anything, it felt almost formal: like Fudge was standing that bit taller and being that bit more detached and dignified than before. Less like he was trying to buddy up to Carewyn and use her as a prop to elevate himself and more like how an employer would treat a high-ranked employee...

And then it hit her.

Fudge had called her "Miss Cromwell." Not "Carewyn," not "Carewyn, my dear" -- but "Miss Cromwell." In the same sort of respectful tone of voice he'd use for Madam Bones and other older, respectable Ministry employees.

He was speaking to Carewyn not like a child that he could coax onto his side through coddling and fawning...but as an adult he wished to coax onto his side through decidedly more political means.

Carewyn's red lips came together tightly as she turned and headed for the lift, tossing her much shorter ginger bob off her neck.

Well, even if Fudge was truly nothing but a politician at heart, at least now he saw her as an adult who wouldn't become his sycophant just because he acted nice to her.

[thereideffects]

I won't accept criticism of season 7 from people who actually liked season 6

[i-yap]

Hello how are you? I love everything you write and I'm obsessed with Dick Grayson. You could write Dick being obsessed with his pretty girlfriend (we readers) I like these stories where he is obsessed in a way that is not crazy and violent. Usually when they write Yanderes it ends in violence, I don't want anything crazy or violent. Can't a man be obsessed with his girlfriend without ending up like that? please

Heyy im doing well, thank you for asking. I love "pretty girlfriend (we readers)" lmao yes we are pretty readers

Obsessed Dick Grayson x reader

Once dick realizes that what he has with you, what he feels for you and what you mean to him is so much more than his past relationships. Like those relationships don't even come in sight to what this is. He loses it a little.

All of a sudden his easy charms, flirtatious nature and playboy game is just gone and that too when he needs it most.

He gets flustered easy and its really weird for him aka Mr most desirable man in dc.

But don't worry , he learns how to work around those palpitations and blushing-by throwing himself into acts of service. Bringing you water without you even saying by realizing you've been swallowing more than average. Making you dinner which comes out of the oven the second you walk into your home by timing your "I've left work" message and the time on google maps ( or maybe just a tracker on you with your permission)

On the same note..HE IS SO OBSERVANT!! like how did you know that y/n wanted chocolate muffin when she likes trying different flavours every day? oh you analyzed her taste pattern and since she had a fruit in the morning, she will want chocolate? oh okay not weird at all dick

That cringey ginny scene from harry potter of her tying his shoelaces? Yea he sort of does those type of things really often. YOU CANT BLAME HIM OKAY ITS YOUR FAULT MAN HAS LOST ALL HIS RIZZ.

He gets so much more jealous. Like in his past relationships, the girlfriends were jealous not him. He was the one being hit on by everyone. People don't even hit on him as much cause rather than him making charming talk he is just standing behind you, head on your shoulder talking sweet to your ear. In fact it has happened on multiple occasions where he just didn't hear someone because he was busy looking at you in the dress you were wearing. also if you guys ever had a fight in the beginning of your relationship about you being insecure ...he will make sure there is a 4 foot stick between him and any other girl who tries touching him. Will jump onto a chandelier rather than let another girl touch him and risk your relationship . you tell him that its okay and you know he isn't reciprocating their feelings and that he doesn't have to jerk away while loudly saying "no no where's y/n WHERE IS MY Y/N" but he doesn't care nothing comes between him and his baby.

He drops stuff too, forgets whatever line he was about to say and um he has giggled when you complimented him once( but you guys don't talk about that anymore)

He just sort of learns to live with it since this just shows how much he loves you and well..there's no fixing it. And he'll find new ways to fluster you.

i hope this was somewhat you were looking for, have a good day!

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Hi, I love your meta and your thoughts on hp characters, especially my boy Harry.

Do you think Harry really sees the Weasleys as family, or does he just see them as Ron's family? Also, did he ever feel like he didn't belong with them and felt distant even though they seemed to care for him?

I'm just curious if it is canon that he felt so close to them, or if it is just an exaggeration from fandom wanting Harry to be part of the Weasleys.

Thank you!

I think Harry loves the Weasleys and wants them to be his family — but he doesn't feel like they are. (I talked about this a bit here)

I think, what makes it the clearest is how he calls Arthur and Molly — Mr. and Mrs. Weasley throughout the entire series. He is not close enough to them to call them by their names.

He thinks of them as Ron's parents. The other Weasley kids are Ron's siblings — not Harry's. Ron and Hermione are like Harry's family, but the other Weasleys are not.

Harry sat down, took the square parcel she had indicated, and unwrapped it. Inside was a watch very like the one Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had given Ron for his seventeenth; it was gold, with stars circling around the face instead of hands. “It’s traditional to give a wizard a watch when he comes of age.” said Mrs. Weasley, watching him anxiously from beside the corner. “I’m afraid that one isn’t new like Ron’s, it was actually my brother Fabian’s and he wasn’t terribly careful with his possessions, it’s a bit dented on the back, but-” The rest of her speech was lost; Harry had got up and hugged her, He tried to put a lot of unsaid things into the hug and perhaps she understood them, because she patted his check clumsily when he released her, then waved her wand in a slightly random way, causing half a pack of bacon out of the frying pan onto the floor.

(DH, Ch7)

Harry loves the concept of the Weasleys as a family. He wishes to feel like family, and is touched when Arthur & Molly go out of their way to integrate him — but they are still Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, not Arthur and Molly.

Even later in DH, you see how he doesn't really think of hismelf as one of the Weasleys:

The Great Hall seemed to fly away, become smaller, shrink, as Harry reeled backward from the doorway. He could not draw breath. He could not bear to look at any of the other bodies, to see who else had died for him. He could not bear to join the Weasleys, could not look into their eyes, when if he had given himself up in the first place, Fred might never have died. . .

(DH, Ch33)

He spotted Ginny two tables away; she was sitting with her head on her mother’s shoulder: There would be time to talk later, hours and days and maybe years in which to talk. [...] Everywhere he looked he saw families reunited, and finally, he saw the two whose company he craved most.

(DH, Ch36)

He seeks out Ron and Hermione, and Ron and Hermione alone. He doesn't feel comfortable joining in with the Weasleys as the family unites to mourn Fred. He doesn't feel like he belongs. Regardless of how many sweaters and homemade goods Mrs. Weasley sends Harry, how much he likes her, he still calls her Mrs. Weasley and doesn't feel comfortable opening up to her or talking to her about anything serious. Harry loves Mr. Weasley, but he never treats him like a parental figure. Neither does he treat Molly like a parental figure to him.

When he's upset, he talks to Sirius, he doesn't try to reach out to Arthur & Molly. He never writes them letters. And they don't send him letters either (besides the one in OotP where Arthur tells him not to leave the Dursleys, but it doesn't really count). He never sends letters to any of Ron's brothers, even though Ron does so on occasion. The only people Harry really treats as his family are Sirius, Ron, and Hermione.

He loves the Weasleys, but besides Ron (and Hermione), they aren't his family. He doesn't feel like one of them. It's why he is so touched every time Mrs. Weasley does something that reminds him she sees him as family:

“He’s not your son,” said Sirius quietly. “He’s as good as,” said Mrs. Weasley fiercely. “Who else has he got?” “He’s got me!” [...] “I think Harry ought to be allowed a say in this,” Lupin continued. “He’s old enough to decide for himself.” “I want to know what’s been going on,” Harry said at once. He did not look at Mrs. Weasley. He had been touched by what she had said about his being as good as a son, but he was also impatient at her mollycoddling. . . . Sirius was right, he was not a child.

(OotP, Ch5)

Because he doesn't really think of himself as their family. It isn't obvious to him — he doesn't see himself as her son. But he kinda wishes he was.

[kmt123whatsthetea]

The Weasley twins Christmas headcanon

A/N: Merry Christmas everyone! I thought I’d write a Christmas headcanon since I didnt last year. I hope you all have an amazing holiday and New Year. Enjoy the fic, my horny devils.

SFW

~ The build up to the big day would be pretty hectic considering you worked at the shop with the twins

~ A constant cycle of customers asking if you had extra stock or if they could pay less was a nightmare, but it was all worth it when the twins shut the shop late Christmas eve

~ They love the idea of buying matching pyjama sets (matching is all they really know)

~ If you’re a muggle born or a half blood, you’ll show them classic christmas films like Home Alone or It's a Wonderful Life on the tv that you convinced them to try out

~ Christmas baking is a necessity

~ It doesn't even matter that the twins are terrible bakers. Magic does it for you

~ Christmas day at the Burrow is unlike anything you’ve ever known

~ Molly’s cooking definitely gets the chefs kiss award

~ Christmas is the only time you get to meet Charlie and see Bill and Fleur

~ The house is packed (Molly likes to joke that grandbabies would top things off)

~Fred and George decided to try out their new product, a small marble sized ball that grows into a snowball when combined with the engorgement charm

~ Instead of bursting into snow upon impact, they disintegrate like flakes of ash

~ This quickly leads to a snowball fight on the surrounding Burrow land after Molly threatened the ginger flock about getting any ‘snow’ inside the house

~ Ginny wins this fight after hiding in one of the bedrooms and catapulting the ‘snowballs’ down from the window

~ Molly and Arthur always include you in presents, even though you aren't officially a Weasley they still treat you like you are

~ After about half an hour, the floor is covered in wrapping paper and everyone is wearing a new knitted ensemble courtesy of the matriarch herself

~ And by the end of the night, moving has become impossible from the amount of food that has been served and eaten

~ It’s times like this where you appreciate floo travel instead of a several hour car drive

NSFW

~ The Twins didn’t realise that you had one more present in store for them

~ It was only when you called them into the bedroom that they understood why you needed time to ‘get the gift ready’

~ The gift consisted of lacy lingerie and a plastic bow that sat on your head

~ Although this was a gift you gave them often, they were very grateful nonetheless

~ The twins loved their gift so much that they decided to unwrap it immediately

~ It took you more time to get the ensemble on than it did for them to tear it off of you

~ But it was worth it to see the look on their faces, and for the wild ride that came with it

~ The twins pounced on you, breathing in your new perfume that they bought you and the feeling of your soft skin

~ Their hands roamed over you, tugging until the lingerie was discarded on the floor and their clothes followed suit

~ One held you in his arms while the other pushed into you, they made you cum at least twice before switching

~ They only wish they had gotten creative with the mistletoe

~ They would have made sure to kiss you everywhere (not that they needed mistletoe to do so) ~ Lets just say that boxing day was a day spent in bed recovering, and giving a few last christmas presents ;)

[cherry-pop-elf]

What Kissing The Weasley Siblings Feels Like

Warnings: Fluff, Sensual, a little risky, no smut, graphic descriptions of lips and smoochies. 16+? Think that works

Writing Commissions Open

William ‘Bill’

Given half his face is missing he doesn’t really like giving kisses. It’s awkward, and strange. To only have half your mouth. How his lips are never able to be soft, or how there is so much teeth. Despite it, you would always kiss the corner of his mouth. He deserved to be kissed, and that is simply that. You find a way, and doing so warms his soul. One day, he finally gets brave enough to return a kiss. It’s awkward, it’s strange, but his intent is all that matters. He was horribly anxious, but followed through. Besides. A little tongue makes it more fun anyway. Whenever the full moon gets closer, you expect getting nothing but tongue and teeth anyway. What’s some more?

Charlie

Warm. They are always so warm, and chapped from the heat. He works with dragons all day, and you can always taste the ash on his breath. He’s a passionate man. He is so intense. Every kiss is like being swallowed whole by the embers of the very dragons he has tamed. He’s so passionate. A man that would lift you off your feet, and have you arched in his strong hands. As if he is trying to consume you, and lick your skin like an angry fire. He is a man that knows what he wants. What he wants is to make sure you know he loves you. He wants you so very bad

Percy

He’s always been quite the prim and proper type. His kisses tend to be quick, short, and almost sharp. Like a peck to the cheek. He has just always had trouble showing affection, but you knew that when you signed up with him. So it wasn’t like he manipulated you into thinking one thing over the other. Regardless, he does try. When his lips do find yours, they are nice. His lips are honestly softer than you expect. He always did take good care of himself after all. They never last to long, but you enjoy them while you can. He’s stepping out of his comfort zone, and you are proud of him for doing such. That’s what matters, after all. You’ll get more. You know you will.

Fred

He’s an intense fella. He likes to plaster you in little kisses, before becoming a living cartoon and dipping you into a passionate embrace. He loves to use kisses to fluster your soul, and be playful in soaking you in little ones. You swear every time you meet he makes sure to leave a kiss on you somewhere. His lips are warm, and a bit chapped. He works with fire works all day, kinda a given. Always the taste of ash on his tongue, but you are fine with it. You just adore how he’s always excited to give you kisses. Each other so alive. He’s just in love. What can he say?

George

Similar to his twin, but still his own person entirely. He’s a bit more emotional. He likes to let kiss be a bit gentler, and lets them last longer. He would trail soft kisses from your cheek, ghost your lips, and go to the next cheek. Then slap a long passionate one, right on your lips. He likes showing his emotions through his lips. Short kisses of excitement, long kisses of need, ghosting to tease. He loves to make use of his mouth, what can he say? He does more than talk your ear off about his latest invention. Mans knows how to work those lips to his advantage. In all the right places.

Ron

He’s an awkward guy. His kisses are either shy, or way too much mouth. You kinda have to teach him. As if either of you complain. He’s just a little dork. YOUR dork. Once he gets his footing, he’s enjoying himself. He still uses more mouth than lips, but you’ve grown to rather love it. How he’s just starving to have you. Even if you were gone just a few minutes. How he utterly craves your touch. It’s addictive. You’ve grown to adore those sloppy kisses he has to offer. They are HIS kisses after all. It makes him all the more special. He’s your dorky guy. All yours, and all his kisses belong to you. So hungry, and devouring.

Ginny

She’s a professional Quidditch player. Do not expect her lips not to be cracked, bloody, dry, what have you. Doesn’t mean her kisses are any less adored. She’s one for quick pecks, as she’s always running off somewhere to do something. You are in love with a Jock. A Weasley Jock no less. Regardless, she knows how to kiss. She knows that sometimes you deserve longer smooches. She does, however, enjoy cheek kisses. She loves giving cheek kisses. Platonic, romantic, she’s a cheek kisser. She will hug you tight, and plant multiple cheek kisses all over you, when she’s really excited. She’s the child of six older brothers. She’s a bit aggressive, but that’s what made you fall in love with her. Ain’t that right?

[salmonight]

Fred Weasley x Hermione Granger x George Weasley Fic recs

(Mainly Fremione tho)

Fred & Hermione & George

Escapism: Hermione parents die when she is little and she gets placed with her abusive uncle. One day she runs off to find her own adventure and meets the twins in the woods. They instantly become besties. Adorable thing.

fun will be made if it is fun that is craved: Ex prankster Hermione plans a prank to deal with umibitch at the same time as a gift for the twins for the valentine's secret gift exchange

Fred/Hermione/George

Banned Books: Harry and Ron get mione banned from the library for two weeks and she is pissed. The twins cant miss out on the fun of helping her spirit a bunch of books away from the library and getting revenge on those two

Fred/Hermione

All One World: I rly adore the characterizations in this fic. Enterily Fred pov. He got insecurities about everyone thinking him stupid and that he can only ever be a comic relife. He also hates how they always talk as if he and George are one person, not different people no matter how similiar. Hermione wears his rule abiding rigid front as a defensive mask. She got more then one and theyre so perfect even Fred in the know sometimes forgets thats what theyre are. She is also sarcastic and witty and very caring and observant. She never fails to identify him right or know the right thing to put him at ease and he does the same for her pulling her out of her flunks.

Band Tees (You're Fucked.): Very bittersweet it literally made me fucking cry by the end. Fred had loved Hermione since the yule ball and he is the only one who knows about her love of grunge punk. They both share their love of punk music. It's just theirs.

Methods: Fred starts a playful flirty banter that Hermione decides to indulge him with joining in. Thats the first time she startles him. She is deadpan and sarcastic and all for teasing him and startling him. They keep up a fluid flirty banter no heed for the audience

A Charming Fairy Godprince: After Ron's mess up before the Yule ball Fred & George takes it into their own hands to cheer Hermione up and be her magical godfathers like Cinderella's. They rewamp her dress and enlist Ginny for her hair. Of course it cant go without over the top very obvious flirting (on Fred's part) and various compliments.

By the Common Room Fire: Fred is sick but still with the usual drama and flair lays across Hermione's lap and demans head scratches like a cat.

Destiny and Chicken: Hermione is sick so Fred brings her soup, tea and potions.

Exploding Potions and Accidental Revelations: Amortia explodes over Hermione in potions class so she smells like what everyone is attracted to. Fred commits social suicide by announcing she smelled the same as usual before knowing what is going on.

Favourite Weasley: The twins invite Hermione out to the Quidditch match. Who's her favorite Weasley? Wrong answers only.

It Looks Better On Me: The twins accidentally soak Hermione and it’s laundry day so Fred throws his jumper at her to wear. Then Fred is sick so he ain’t playing but out to watch the match so Hermione pulls her hat over his head. Later when he is better he flaunt it around so Hermione decides to steal another of his stuff in retaliation. It sparks an all out war.

While You Were Gone: Ron and Harry leave cuz they need a break after the war leaving mione behind which brakes her and the twins take it into their own hands. They basically adopt her as their third. Its rly fluffy and wholesome, warm and fricking hilarious . It also gonna make u wanna murder Ron and Harry :)

A Small Change: Fred got such a good grades in OWLs they thought he cheated but he didn', he is panicked about doing so well and wanna actually try in school so he writes to Hermione and she helps him. They become rly good friends from then and start to exchange letters and meet up a few times. Theyre rly wholesome and his anxiety about school and his family's reaction is just so real

don't you know you've got the best of me?: Hermione meets the twins and their friend group on the train and they meet again at the sorting. She ends up talking with the twins a few more times and they end up adopting her into their friend group. She aint rly that close with Harry and Ron and she befriended them much later. Most of her friends are all of the twins' year. She is the closest with Fred and theyre best friends, he is also very protective and possessive of her.

Whole New Meaning to "Mooning" Over Someone: When you throw something during the full moon your soulmate 'catches' i. Aka a frustrated Hermione throws her book during the full moon which consequently smashes into a poor sleeping Fred's face.

i wanted to see you again, so please be gentle: Soulmates and modern au with under caffeinated disaster Hermione bulldozing over the interaction not even realizing she met her soulmate. Absolutely hilarious first liner.

Straight Into My Arms: Every year since he was five fred asked for his soulmate from santa till one day they literally fell out of the sky and landed in their arms

George/Hermione

Fancy a night in?: Post-war. George finds any excuse to go over to Hermione's and make her smile.

To be updated...

[drjackabbots]

“The man who faces his fears rather than running from them is far braver than the man who thinks he has no fear at all.” Once again, those dark eyes flick up, making unwavering contact with Jonathan’s. “I would call that courageous. Wouldn’t you?” Jonathan frowns. “I’m… resourceful,” he says finally. The word feels better than brave or coward. Humble, but not too self-deprecating. “Or at least, I am when I need to be. Tricky, maybe.” This time, Ardeth definitely smiles. It crinkles up the corners of his eyes, and Jonathan feels a bit transfixed as he watches Ardeth flick his head to get some of his hair out of the way as he begins to wrap a new piece of torn cloth around Jonathan’s shoulder. “You may call it whatever you’d like,” Ardeth says, and his fingers lightly trail down Jonathan’s arm. It makes him shiver, and he turns away just as another stab of pain licks up his arm. Ardeth’s fingertips are warm and calloused, his voice soft as he continues. “But the idea is the same. You’re here, are you not? How many men would have done so in the face of such danger?” Jonathan’s quiet. “She’s my baby sister,” he says, firm as he finally turns his gaze back to Ardeth. It’s not even a question. “Of course I’m here.”

Jonathan needs a little tending to after the scarab incident in Hamunaptra's underground tomb, and Ardeth offers it. Things go from there.

(Ardeth Bay/Jonathan Carnahan, The Mummy 1999, rated T)

[ashotofogdensoldfirewhiskey]

Conclusions

Ginny's run out of her good parchment and has been reduced to using something she dug out of the bottom of her trunk, hating the way her quill scratches over the rough surface. As though it isn’t punishment enough to be writing about History of Magic, she’s got to do it on this piece of rubbish. 

“Bloody, buggering fu–” she swears as the point of her quill pierces a hole straight through her conclusion. Apt, probably - it had been flimsy at best. There’s a metaphor here, somewhere.

“Revision going well, then?”

The wry voice startles her so much that she nearly upends her bottle of ink all over her weak – in more ways than one – essay. “Fuck, Harry, I’d no idea you were there.”

She blinks up at him in surprise and finds him smirking, standing at the table she’s claimed in a corner of the library, looking adorably entertained by her plight. His bookbag is slung carelessly over his shoulder, his hair mussed, his stupid face made more handsome by the teasing lilt of his smile. Her heart flutters a bit, because that’s just what it always does with him. She ignores it valiantly, and hates him for it, a little. 

“Sorry,” he says, though he sounds more amused than anything. “Mind if I sit?”

“Course,” she says, gesturing to the seat opposite. “Can’t guarantee there won’t be more swearing, though.” 

He eyes her holey essay as he sits, jerking his head questioningly toward the parchment. “What’re you working on?”

“Something for Binns.”

“Ah, I’d be swearing, too.”

“Fucking hell, eh?”

They share a smile, and Ginny reckons she’d be better off writing an essay about that - the way she knows exactly when he’ll find something funny; the way jokes fall a bit flat when the punchline isn’t his eyes seeking her out, green and piercing and flickering with amusement. She’d fill the parchment with ease. 

It’s easy to write about something you can’t stop reading into. 

Just like she’s madly reading into the way he’s shown up here - no Ron, no Hermione - and sought her out, like it’s normal, like they’ve been doing this for years even though they haven’t. It feels like they have, though. That’s the worst part of it.

“What’re you doing here?” she asks, like he might just come right out and say it - to see you.

He doesn’t. She pretends that she can’t be disappointed by what she expects. 

“Transfiguration,” he says darkly. 

“Where’re Ron and Hermione, then?” she prods, picking at it like a scab, like a masochist. I wanted to get you alone, she urges him to say. I’ve been trying to all week and I haven’t even been subtle about it.

“Dunno,” he shrugs. Scabs bleed when you pick them, incidentally. “I can survive an evening without them, you know.”

“Can you? I don’t reckon your track record is all that spectacular on that front, if I’m honest.”

“Hey, I haven’t died even once.”

“Right,” she jokes. “Angling for a new nickname? ‘The Boy Who Hasn’t Died, Even Once’?”

He lets out a soft chuckle. “Rolls right off the tongue, that.”

“I’ll owl Rita for you. We can workshop something”

They smile.

She wants to shake him until he admits to it, confesses, like this thing brewing between them is a crime. She wants to lay all the evidence out in front of him, the aspiring Auror, and see what he makes of it. He can’t quip his way around the smiles and the banter and the looks he gives her. See, she’ll say, don’t you see?

He’s got shit vision. 

They sit together for far longer than she’d planned to stay. At some point he adjusts in his seat, and his foot winds up touching hers, and he doesn’t even have the decency to move it. She fancies she can feel his warmth through their trainers, but no - it must be her own traitorous heart, frantically pumping warm blood to her foot like it’s the only part of her body that needs it, like the parts of her that aren’t touching him have ceased to matter because maybe they have. 

Maybe she’s been distilled to the edge of her foot.

They talk about strategies for the Quidditch final, and OWLs, and argue playfully about which of her mum’s mince pies is the best. Ginny’s always fancied herself good at impressions, but she surprises even herself with her impression of easy nonchalance. All the while it’s building - each look, each smile, each easy joke they set each other up for feels like a firework she’s adding to the heap in her chest, ready to explode with the slightest spark. 

You’ve got me alone, she tells him. Do something about it.

It’s nearly curfew. They start gathering their things, and still he hasn’t done anything. If he were any other boy, Ginny would cut through the bullshit herself, but something holds her back. She can’t fully articulate, unravel, why, but she needs him to be the one to admit it. She needs him to decide she’s worth the risk. He’s meant to be brave, isn’t he?

As she’s packing it away, Ginny remembers her abandoned essay, still punctured pathetically. She sighs, holds it up for Harry’s evaluation. “Think Binns’ll even notice?”

“Give it here,” he says, and she hands it over. He pulls his wand from his robes and waves it wordlessly, the gaping tear sewing itself together so it might never have been there. Ginny doesn’t know why she hadn’t thought to do that herself. 

“Thanks. Only now, I’ve actually got to write a damn conclusion.”

He laughs and holds it back out to her. “You’re on your own.”

“Aren’t you meant to have a hero complex?” she quips, pushing the parchment back toward him. “Some useful saving-people thing? Have a go.”

To her immense surprise, he shoots her a wry smirk that sends a tingle through her stomach. “Alright.” He pulls out the quill he’d only just packed away, scrawls something at the bottom of her parchment, shielding it from view.  

She’s gone utterly daft. Her heart is hammering in her chest, beating a tattoo on her ribcage; she wonders if her fingers are trembling as they reach across to take her essay back, fully convinced she’ll find the words Go out with me scribbled there. 

In conclusion, he’d written, this essay is over.

She snorts, mostly at herself. She’s officially deluded. Cracked. What is wrong with her?

“Wow. Thanks for that,” she says drily. “How would Binns have known otherwise?”

He grins. “Anytime.”

“Totally unrelated, but do you offer refunds? Perhaps a voucher for another Harry Potter rescue at a later date?”

“Non-refundable. Sorry.”

“I’m going to be honest,” she lies. “I expected a better rescue than that.”

He shrugs. “You expect too much from The Boy Who Hasn’t Died, Even Once.”

She can’t help herself; she laughs. His eyes seek hers out - green, so green, twinkling with amusement and something that looks so fond. She’s going to set fire to the heap of fireworks in her chest, just to get it over with. She’ll explode in color, driven to madness by the boy who hadn’t died even once but who’d killed her, slowly, with smiles. 

In conclusion, she thinks, I’m utterly fucked.

[iamnmbr3]

jk rowling: ok let's create a scene in which ginny is talked even by slytherins and that can be a build up for hinny. Such a hinny scene!!

Also jk rowling: ends up writing a drarry scene in which not only harry feels uncomfortable watching pansy stroking draco's hair, BUT ALSO DRACO SAYS GINNY IS NOT SPECIAL(can we talk about this??????!) *giggles*

I hate how suddenly in book 6 random characters who have no reason to say good things about her are suddenly acting like she's the Bestest Ever TM in order to tell the readers to like her - which really shows how weak as a character she is (in the later books - I think pre book 6 she was actually a good character).

We don't need all the Slytherins to go on and on about how awesome Hermione or Neville are. We don't need the Death Eaters to stage a conversation where they're all like 'dang! that Luna Lovegood sure is quirky and fun but also super good hearted and insightful and totally awesome!" or Arthur and Molly to be like 'you know that Snape sure is interesting and morally ambiguous. And don't even get me started on Voldemort - say what you will about the man, but he's got charisma! And what a fascinating backstory!" That would be ridiculous. And unnecessary. Because all those characters can stand on their own. Ginny can't and JKR over-compensates by trying to have other characters tell us how great she is but that actually just undermines her.

Which is a shame. Because Ginny had a ton of potential and I liked her way more in book 5 (and the previous books) when she actually had an arc and JKR wasn't flattening her out and trying to push her as the Love Interest TM at the expense of her character.

And yeah that whole scene is accidentally such drarry fodder. Here's the relevant passage.

I mean, Pansy mentions that people like Ginny and immediately looks at Draco but she can't be worried about Draco liking Ginny because Draco has literally just dismissed her. In fact, it's Blaise that she seems to be more worried about. And as soon as Blaise insults Ginny Pansy relaxes and looks happy. (So does Draco, incidentally). So Pansy looking at Draco seems more like she knows he might care about boys liking Ginny...boys like Harry Potter for example. Pansy's been hanging around with Draco for 5 years by this point. She's definitely noticed how he is about Harry. And yeah I know she's stroking Draco's hair but they don't seem to actually be dating. I think that's just Harry projecting.

And we know if they actually got together ever Harry would've mentioned it. So clearly Draco at least wasn't interested. And Pansy does end up marrying Blaise. So I read this scene as Pansy crushing on Blaise, Draco possibly lowkey crushing on Blaise and highkey crushing on Harry and also being super jealous of Ginny (bc he immediately clocked her fancying Harry...and Collin Creevey too tbh - just like Harry clocks everyone who even looks at Draco lol) and Pansy knowing it.

AND THEN after all this we get Harry hating on Pansy for looking like she's enjoying stroking Draco's hair followed by him getting hit directly on the head by a piece of luggage because he got distracted by the sight of Draco changing. And THEN he ends up immobilized and alone, entirely at Draco's mercy, while believing Draco to be a Death Eater (and being correct!) and he doesn't even feel worried that Draco will hurt him or hand him over to Voldemort...and he's right, because Draco doesn't. Absolutely wild. Book 6 is the drarry fic of all time. JKR did not intend or want it to be. But it is.

[gemissleeping]

Velveteen|Theodore Nott

"He knew that they were only toys, and would never turn into anything else."

Theodore Nott x Reader

Summary: As the last surviving witch with ties to an ancient form of magic, Dumbledore has you tracking down horcrux hotspots.

Length: 2.2k

Notes: Angst mostly, some fluff. Blood, swearing, smoking. Percy Weasley hate (valid). This is just a little something I had the urge to write. May or may not continue as a series at this stage.

Fuck trees, fuck trolls, and fuck that smug little Weasley auror from the Ministry. He was a rat in y/n's eyes. A scheming, conniving rodent of a man. How he had even tracked her out there was beyond her. She'd made sure to take all of the precautions Snape had given her.

She'd apparated out with Professor Dumbledore. A good fifty kilometres from the point of interest too, might she add. Fifty kilometres she'd had to trek over two days to remain undetected. On foot. All for nothing in the end thanks to Percy.

Bootlicker.

There was no worse feeling than a failed task. Especially when it was one of her most important to date. The map was atrocious really, they clearly had no idea what they were looking for. Just that y/n should be able to sense it. Sniff it out as though she were some kind of blood hound.

Percy she had sensed. Thankfully she had gotten out before he'd seen her face, or the sea cave entrance she'd been eyeing on the cliffs below. She'd have to go back now. Which was absolutely wonderful and definitely did not make her want to tear her hair out.

Merlin, she thought she might hit the next Weasley she came across just for looking like him if she didn't calm down soon. Not Ginny of course, Ginny was lovely. Ronald was fair game though. Fred she would also be impartial to.

To top things off, y/n now found herself fleeing from the edge of the Forbidden Forest towards the castle. She'd missed the welcome dinner, which was a shame. But in all honesty, may have been a small mercy at this point. At least this way most of the students would be asleep, and she could get into the castle undetected.

It wasn't Dumbledore's fault that the end location of the Portkey had seemingly been inhabited by a troll since he had selected it. But how hard was it to check up on, really? Especially knowing she was wandless and unable to cast any regular spells. She'd blasted it to bits, of course. Not before it had gotten one good shot at her though, flinging her into the nearest pine tree.

It was just rather inconsiderate she thought.

The dizziness was setting in as she entered the castle via the Viaduct Bridge, snaking her way down to the dungeons. Making sure to grip every railing or wall available to her. Merlin was on her side that night, not one Professor crossed her path while she had floated through the dim halls. Once the concrete snake had appeared, revealing the door, she almost fell over with relief

The stairs felt so horrifically long, but finally she reached the dim, candle-lit depths of the Slytherin common room. Keeling forward for a moment, y/n placed her hands on her knees as she tried to calm her breathing. Her left palm came away bloodied. There was a tear in her stockings, and a huge gash across her knee.

y/n groaned, making her way around the corner to the couches her friends had claimed in third year. She couldn't wait to fall into one, maybe never wake if she had her way. And she did fall, only into Theodore Nott's eyeline. He looked as though he'd been waiting there for hours from the sweltering anger on his face. She took a deep breath, knowing she was about to get her ass handed to her for a second time that night.

"Nice of you to notify me of your delay."

"Does it look as though I planned on it?" y/n mumbled, sinking into the green velvet couch across from him. She sighed as her tension eased for the first time in days. Head lolling against the couch's back. Her hands shielding her eyes as a headache set in. While Theodore sat deathly still, awaiting further explanation with a burdened gaze. Something told y/n the burden was her.

"Mind if I borrow your wand?" y/n groaned from behind her palms.

There was only silence for a moment, before she heard him shift across from her. When she lifted her head his wand was resting on the table between them. He was pissed, beyond apprehension. But he had softened at her shattered appearance, the blood on her knee. Which she had now unknowingly painted on her cheek.

"Thank you," y/n sighed in relief, half expecting to have to fight for it. She worked quickly, sealing up the gash and cleansing the blood, pine needles, and dirt from her skin. Finishing by stitching her stockings together again. When she finally glanced back up, Theodore was frowning. His eyes sweeping her body up and down as she finished her work. He looked up from the closing threads of her stockings as they meshed around her knee, one eyebrow raised.

"Have something you'd like to say?" y/n grumbled, holding his wand out for him to take. He wasn't a fan of that question, or her attitude. His expression soured once again, all past concern pushed away. y/n brushed more pine needles off of her skirt, too tired and sore to care. She was spent, so completely crushed from the past two days. The knowledge that she had no choice but to continue until she succeeded wasn't helping.

"Have you always behaved like this, or do you just enjoying making me worry insufferably?" Theo leaned forward, and took the wand from her outstretched hand. His fingertips gently brushing her grazed knuckles.

"It's nice to see you too, Teddy," y/n laughed tiredly, shedding more pine needles as she picked them from her stockings. If she shut her eyes now, she worried they were so heavy she might fall asleep sitting up.

"Where have you been? I searched the whole train up and down for you. You missed the Sorting Ceremony," Theo hissed.

"It's a good thing we already know what house I'm in then, isn't it?"

"That's not funny y/n." He scolded, the concern in his voice thinly veiled by the frown he was wearing. She had no idea what it had been like for him, these past few hours especially.

"I need a cigarette before we get into it," y/n sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. Everything was aching, she would find solace in a smoke or two. He didn't move. "Please?"

"It's late."

"You're awake," she countered, a hopeful look on her face that he knew he wouldn't be able to dissapoint.

"Because of you," he grumbled, running his hands through his messy curls.

"I'll take that as a yes, be right back," and she was off, disappearing into the dormitories.

"Do as you please, you always do," Theodore huffed under his breath.

He needed one too if he was honest. He felt as though he'd aged a few decades from the fear he'd been wearing all evening while he fretted over her disappearance.

She reappeared a minute or so later, the heavy overcoat he'd brought her for her birthday last year hanging off of her shoulders. The pair took their usual route until they found themselves at the top of the hill just outside the grounds, overlooking Hagrid's hut. y/n stood, overlooking the moonlit valley beneath them. The peace quickly disintegrating into swearing as the wind prevented her from sparking up. Theo had been hanging behind slightly, still not having forgiven her. But upon hearing the quiet curses falling from her lips, he couldn't help but walk over.

"You shield, I'll light it," he instructed, y/n doing as she was told and holding the sides of her coat up.

He closed the open space with his chest in two gentle steps. His thumb running over the flint of the lighter as the wind went quiet and y/n's face grew warm. He brought it to her lips, unable to keep himself from looking as he lit the cigarette between them. She took a relieved drag as the flame took. Theo got out his own cigarette, leaning down to press its tip to hers. He inhaled, spreading the flame between them. The grass was dewey beneath them as they smoked. Theo looked over to y/n, trailing over her body just to make sure.

"You've got pine needles in your hair, by the way," Theo murmured as he took another drag. His eyes flickering from hers, to the ground as he tapped his cigarette.

"Oh for fuck's sake," y/n heaved, tilting her head back in exasperation. She began ripping the hair ties from her two braids and brushing her fingers through them to shake the needles loose. Balancing her cigarette between her lips as she did.

"Still there," Theo mused, studying her with an amused expression as her frustration grew.

She passed him her cigarette wordlessly, which he took. She'd have rather not set herself alight on top of everything today. Then tipped her head forward, carelessly dragging her fingertips through it to rid herself of them. Once she was done, she flung her hair back. Raising an eyebrow in Theo's direction. He only gave her a saccharine smile as he took a drag from her cigarette, keeping it lit.

"Still?" y/n asked in disbelief, taking her cigarette from his lips and placing it between her own.

"Come here, sit," He shook his head, as though she was the most useless creature he'd ever seen. Theo walked over to the steps nearby, sitting on the top one. She followed suit, tucking her coat beneath her and taking a seat two steps down. She dipped her head back, leaning on her elbows. Her head resting between his knees. Theo couldn't help but admire the way her hair fell, even in its current mess.

Pressing the nub of his cigarette into the grass after one final drag, Theo brushed his hands off. His fingers quickly lacing through her hair in gentle streams as he dragged out the remaining pine needles. Christ there were a lot of them. He ran his fingers through it again, carefully to ensure he didn't snag anything. He did it again, and again. The pine needles were long gone. But her breathing had grown steady, and her shoulders relaxed. And that mattered far more to him than some pine needles.

"All clear?" She whispered sleepily, her head falling all the way back to meet his eyes.

"All clear," Theo echoed, the dried blood beneath her eye making him wince. "You missed this though," he reached out, pressing his thumb to his tongue and running it under her eye to brush the blood away.

"Ew," y/n gasped, but if she was honest, she was too tired to care. She swatted his hand away gently. Taking another drag from her cigarette which had been resting beneath her knuckles.

"Need I remind you that you once sneezed in my mouth?" Theo chimed, knowing it was his trump card, and likely would be for eternity.

"That was literally in First Year and it was an accident," she mumbled.

"Still stands." He shrugged.

"You loved it, don't lie." That got a smile out of him, however unwillingly.

"You're foul. Now tell me why you came in several hours late, looking like a troll dragged you through a bush backwards."

y/n's eyes widened slightly at his statement, choking on the dregs of her cigarette in disbelief. His smile vanished, eyes flickering between her own as he gauged her reaction. His jaw clenched as she sat up swiftly.

"Tell me you're joking."

"I think it's bedtime," y/n breathed, going to push herself up and off of the steps. But Theo's hand found her wrist like a vice, pulling her back down before she had a chance. He leant forward as she stumbled closer to him from the force. She just managed to catch herself from falling straight into him.

"I don't think so. What was that?" He said lowly, staring into her eyes. She was eternally fucked now. He could always tell when she lied, and he never tolerated it.

"Just leave it Theo, please," she pleaded, not having the energy.

"I left it all Summer. All of your disappearances, all of your little quests. You promised me it would be done by the end of the Summer. I have it in fucking writing, so don't tell me to leave it. What is going on?" He seethed, and y/n found herself unable to meet his eyes.

"Teddy, you know I can't-"

"God I'm so sick of hearing that." He laughed, a cruel sound, not his usual light-hearted teasing. "The Professors have you off, running around like some toy soldier, but you're not allowed to tell me what for. Then they're not even there to help you when things go wrong?"

"It's-"

"Despicable is what it is."

"Would you listen to me?"

"I would, but it's not like you'd be able to tell me anything, is it?"

The words left y/n silent, because they were true. She wished so terribly that they weren't. That she hadn't done it.

"I've always told you everything, y/n. I don't understand why-"

"I made the unbreakable vow."

The words rushed out of her as though she were going to be sick. The silence that followed her confession only made it more probable. Theo's features had darkened as her confession sunk in. He let go of her wrist, his hand wound into a fist as he looked out at the treeline of the forbidden forest. He stayed that way for a few moments as y/n stood before him, silently begging him to say something.

"Dumbledore," he breathed out finally, his voice straining with the effort of evenness, "you made the unbreakable vow, with Dumbledore?"

"I had to Theo, it was too important. They can't take any risks. Not until everything is done. I wanted to tell you, more than anything. I still want to-"

"Do you suppose he's ever made Potter make one?" Theo turned to her, looking as though he was about to set them both alight.

Her explanations fell dead on her tongue. They both knew he hadn't. Both knew what Dumbledore was scared of when it came to her.

"I didn't think so either," Theo conceded to her silence, his voice turning hollow. y/n felt something within her crack at the truth of his words. He was wrong, or at least she wanted him to be.

"It's different."

"I'm not sure it is," Theo countered, and he knew he was right in saying it.

Because it wasn't any different. The difference was trust. They were using her up and once they were done they would spit her out, or worse. He wasn't going to be able to sleep easily now.

"You should get to bed, I'll see you at practice tomorrow," he huffed, staring out to the forest again.

y/n stood there for a moment, hoping she could think of something to make it better. But as Theo lit another cigarette, the only thing she felt was tired.

[tomriddlehyperfixataion]

The Diary of Tom Riddle- Diary! Tom Riddle x Reader - P3

pairing: Tom riddle x Fem reader

warnings: Horcruxes, Manipulation, Tom being Tom, side effects of being possessed.

summary: 16-year-old (y/n) finds a mysterious black book on the floor of after it slips out of Ginny Weasleys caldron, curious, she picks it up and keeps it-which leads to one thing after another and discovers the book is far more than it seems.

-Part 1- -Part 2- -Part 4-

=

Thankfully, as she woke up, (y/n) hadn't moved from her bed throughout the night. She sighed and slowly sat up, rubbing her face, drawing back the curtains of her bed, seeing her roommates all up and getting dressed for the day. It was a Sunday, so it was Hogsmeade day for years 3 and up.

Hogsmeade sounded fun.

(y/n) looked at the diary and grabbed it, popping open her ink well and grabbing her quill, flipping open a book to the now blank page she’d been writing in the night before.

“Morning Tom.”

Tom took a moment to respond, her ink disappearing into the page as his elegant scrawl appeared in its place.

‘Good morning (y/n), did you sleep well?’

“yes I did, thankfully. Woke up where I should be too, in my bed.”

‘Very good. Are you feeling better?’

“yeah, much better, thank you. Im going to go to Hogsmeade today, would you like to come with?”

‘Well, I wouldn’t be able to do much, would I?’

(y/n) hummed in thought, Tom had a point, as he could only see what she wrote/illustrated in the book.

“good point, but I could maybe bring you to the bookstore there and get some ink you’d like?”

‘I don’t eat the ink (y/n)’

“not what I meant but that’s a very funny visual thank you.”

(y/n) giggled to herself, imagining the book eating the ink instead of just absorbing it to write back to her.

“I meant like, would you like some fancy ink? I saved up some money from my allowance and can get some good ink from the store if you would prefer it?”

‘How…generous of you, (y/n)’

“thank you :)”

Tom took a very long moment to respond, as if he was thinking long and hard about her offer. Finally, after a few minutes, he wrote back-though he did so while (y/n) was getting dressed for her outing to Hogsmeade, putting on an oversized sweater for maximum comfort.

‘I suppose it couldn’t hurt if you brought the diary along, I certainly don’t mind good inks to write with, I myself was never able to afford more than the most basic brands.’

(y/n) tilted her head a bit, a smile growing on her face. Tom was opening up to her a bit! Okay-play it cool-don’t overreact.

“aww really?”

‘I don’t need your pity (y/n)’

Oops.

“not pity! Im sorry! Just…idk”

‘What in the merlin does ‘idk’ mean?’

“Oh-I don’t know-its an abbreviation.”

‘Why don’t you just write ‘I don’t know’, it’s not hard?’

“idk, just easier.”

She felt like she could hear him sigh, which made her giggle and she finished getting dressed before writing to him again.

“okay okay, im going to go eat, ill be back to grab you before everyone heads out to Hogsmeade.”

Tom didn’t respond so (y/n) closed the diary and put it back on her bedside table, capping her ink well and cleaning her quill before leaving her room, heading out to the great hall for breakfast.

-

Hogsmeade, thankfully, took the rest of the events from the night before off (y/n)’s mind as she went from store to store, starting at the book store and writing down ink brands and types to Tom, who eventually picked out a non-expensive India ink, but it was definitely more costly than the usual ink she got.

She closed the diary and put it back in her bag, taking the new ink to the front and buying it, the shopkeep wrapping it in paper and then giving it to her in a paper bag.

She counted how much money she had left as she walked down the main path of the village, nodding to herself as she pocketed the coins. She had enough to do someday after Halloween candy shopping.

She hopped straight into Honeydukes, where loads of other students were buying their own discounted candy, and quickly got some candies that were under the discount.

Including a bag of candy corn, and it was the type made in shop-which was even better.

“What is it with you and candy corn (n/n)?” one of her friends that had accompanied her to Hogsmeade asked teasingly, attempting to steal one of the candies (y/n) had bought.

“It’s good!” (y/n) defended the candy, holding the box to her chest. She knew candy corn wasn’t a worldly liked candy-but it was hers and her dad's favorite, so it not only tasted good to her, but it also was nostalgic.

(y/n)’s friend snickered, taking a caramel apple lollipop from (y/n)’s bag full of discounted Halloween candy. (y/n) rolled her eyes, the two catching up with the rest of their friends, hanging out at the three broomsticks for a while before heading back to the castle.

Upon getting back to her dorm room, (y/n) poured out the candy onto her bed and spread it out, sorting it and eating a few pieces here and there as she separated the chocolates from the hard candies, and the lollipops from the taffy.

She took out the diary and the new well of ink, opening the wax around it and setting it aside, testing the ink on her actual notebook before writing to Tom.

“back from Hogsmeade! Using the new ink as well :)”

‘I can tell, it’s far smoother than the ink you were using before.’

“I’m glad you like it! I also got a lot of candy from honeydukes, they were having a day after Halloween sale, I got nearly 5 pounds of candy for one galleon.”

‘Sweet tooth?’

“big one.”

(y/n) smiled brightly as she continued her conversation with Tom, which turned to her asking Tom what his favorite candy was…is.

‘I haven't tried much candy if I must be honest, though I do like treacle tarts.’

“yum, those are pretty good”

“great now Im craving treacle tart thanks Tom.”

‘You’re welcome, (y/n)’

­-

(y/n) happily painted on some Slytherin green and silver face paint onto her cheeks, today was the first quidditch game of the year, and the Slytherin team had gotten a new seeker-the spoiled as fuck Draco Malfoy, who everyone knew bribed his way in but he still wasn’t a terrible flyer-and brand new brooms.

The whole Slytherin house was excited, ready to win the first match of the season against Gryffindor, since they hadn’t won a game against Gryffindor since Harry Potter joined the team the year before.

“You almost ready (y/n)?!” her friend called from the bathroom as she herself finished her makeup.

“Yeah!” (y/n) said, hopping to her feet after pulling away from her desk mirror. “I’m all done!” she wrapped a scarf around her neck and hooked her arm with her friends and they all went down to the quidditch pitch together, the roar of excitement already humming through the stands.

The game started quickly after that and it was exciting! The Slytherins were walloping the Gryffindors easily-quickly overtaking them 90-30. (y/n) whistled and cheered for her team, throwing her fists into the air with each score. “Woah what the fuck?!” she heard her friend suddenly exclaim and (y/n) turned to see where she was looking, her brows furrowing as a bludger began to deliberately chase Harry Potter.

“Is that a rouge bludger??” (y/n) said, her lip curling in confusion. “What the hell they’re like-impossible to tamper??” (y/n) and her friend stopped paying attention to the game as a whole, watching in near horror as Harry was chased around by a bludger.

The Weasley twins tried to bat it away from him but it kept coming back.

“that’s not good-we should tell a teacher-“ (y/n) stuttered, turning to head off the stands, maybe catch Madam Hooch’s attention and stop the game before someone got hurt. (y/n)’s friend nodded and followed her through the crowd of Slytherins and down the stands.

Just as they reached Madam Hooch, the bludger had slammed into Harry’s arm as he reached for the snitch and he hit the dirt soon after; though he had the snitch in hand, Gryffindor had won the game. “Oh shit,” (y/n) muttered under her breath, looking at Harrys very broken arm, as Madam Hooch blew the whistle, ending the game.

The Weasley twins somehow caught the tampered bludger, getting it back into the box and locking it down. Madam Hooch instantly saw to it, and while that all happened-the idiot Lockhart…erm…mended Harry’s arm.

“Ew,” (y/n) muttered as her friend gagged at the rubber look Harry’s arm had taken. Lockhart hadn’t mended shit; he’d removed Harry’s bones!

“That is so nasty,” (y/n)’s friend muttered, and (y/n) nodded in agreement, heading back to the castle after Headmaster Dumbledore told everyone the match was over and to head back to the castle while Harry, and any other injured players, went to Madam Pomfrey.

“Gotta be honest, Gryffindor deserved that win, I mean-odds stacked against them, with those new brooms and that bloody bludger, they won. Shame Potter’s arm got broken for it though.” (y/n)’s friend ranted as they walked back to the common room, (y/n) nodding in agreement. “I have to wonder who tampered the bludger? I mean Madam Hooch checks them right before the game, and if it wasn’t tampered then, how could’ve someone hexed it within the minutes before the game began?”

(y/n) shrugged as her friend continued to rant. “Maybe someone tampered with it mid-game? Because it wasn’t doing it at first, if it was tampered with before the game-it would’ve gone after Harry straight away? Wouldn’t it?” (y/n) suggested, walking into the common room after several other students and her friend nodded, tapping her chin.

“That does sound logical, though I’m not sure how or why anyone would do that, I mean-he’s just a 12-year-old kid? Who’d want to charm a bloody iron magic ball to hurt him?” (y/n) shrugged in response to her friend's rhetorical question.

“Someone fucked up,” (y/n) answered anyway and her friend sighed, the two entering their dorm room. Her friend went to wipe the Slytherin-themed makeup off her face while (y/n) went to her bed and grabbed the diary.

“Potter almost got killed by a bludger at the quidditch match today.”

(y/n) could almost feel the sense of ‘!!?!?!’ from Tom as he hurriedly wrote back to her.

‘Who starts a conversation like that? also what? how? I never liked Quidditch but I’m sure those Quidditch gear chests are impossible to get into?’

“that’s what I said, I think someone jinxed it mid game because it wasn’t going after him at first.”

‘How odd. And it was going after Potter specifically?’

“yeah! Only him, the Weasley twins kept batting it away from him but it would go right back after Potter. Its really weird.”

‘I cannot tell you it isn’t, because it is very odd.’

“yeah”

(y/n) perked up as her friend came back out of the bathroom. “I’m going to go get lunch, you coming?” her friend asked and (y/n) nodded.

“Yeah, lemme just wash my face,” (y/n) said, looking back down at the diary and telling Tom she had to go, setting the book down on the bedside table and going into the bathroom to wash her face.

-

(y/n) woke up very late that night, a ringing in her ears as she opened her eyes, feeling kinda nauseous. She groaned lightly, realizing she’d fallen off her bed, her head pounding as she attempted to get up, pressing her palms to her eyes as they ached.

“What the fuck,” she muttered, rubbing her face. She’d never fallen off her bed before, but considering the odd dream she had-she wasn’t surprised. She eventually got to her feet after the nausea had passed and climbed back into bed, yawning.

She laid back down, but couldn’t get back to sleep. Her mind kept going back to that odd dream. She had been walking through the halls of Hogwarts, at what seemed to be a late hour, and went into one of the bathrooms and…spoke a strange language-a hissing language, and the…sink had come apart??? After that she woke up, having fallen off her bed mid weird dream.

She huffed and drew the curtains around her bed, grabbing her wand, the diary, and her quill. “Lumos,” (y/n) murmured and the tip of her wand began to glow and she opened the diary, flipping through pages and pages of notes, and doodles.

She dipped her quill and began to write to Tom.

“I fell out of my bed,”

‘And why is that so important to tell me? It’s late I’m sure, you should be asleep.’

“you’re right but I cant get back to sleep, I had a weird dream and woke up after falling out of my bed, which ive never done”

“or at least I havent done since I was a kid?”

‘Interesting. What was your dream about if I may ask?’

(y/n) wrote down what she remembered from the dream, and then added a small detail she hadn’t realized till now.

“it felt like I was having an out of body experience, or like I was watching through someone elses eyes? You get what I mean?”

‘I suppose I do, though im sure there’s nothing to worry about, everyone has odd dreams sometimes.’

“have you ever had an odd dream?”

‘Yes, I’m not divulging that information though, you’ll tease me relentlessly about it.’

“no I wont!”

(y/n) huffed as Tom didn’t respond, and she could imagine the expression of ‘sure you wont’ on his face. She wished she knew wha the looked like…wait maybe she could find him in the gallery! He did say he was a prefect in his time, maybe there was a picture somewhere of the 1942-1943 prefects.

“you’re no fun.”

‘Go to sleep (y/n),’

“fiiiine, goodnight Tom.”

‘Goodnight, (y/n)’

-

“A first year got petrified?!” (y/n) asked in a hushed tone, her eyes wide as she gripped her friend's hand tightly as they walked to breakfast Monday morning.

“Yeah, apparently it happened Saturday night, or well, early Sunday morning if you think about it that way-but Professor Dumbledore found him in the middle of the night-just-stone still, petrified.” (y/n)’s friend rambled and (y/n) frowned, squeezing her friend’s hand tighter.

Early Sunday morning…she’d had that weird dream and fell out of her bed Sunday morning.

“What time did the first year get petrified?” (y/n) asked and her friend shrugged.

“Dunno, I’m only telling you what I heard from the grapevine, all I know is Sunday morning, a first year got petrified.” (y/n) huffed nervously in response, swallowing harshly, that weird feeling of paranoia returning to her gut.

Just a coincidence, just a coincidence. It had to be; besides, she’d just fallen out of her bed this time, she hadn’t sleepwalked, she hadn’t even left her dorm room.

…right?

-

“I’m leaving.” (y/n) huffed as dumbass Lockhart came onto the long dueling stage that was set up lengthwise in the great hall, replacing the house tables. Her friend grabbed her arm as she attempted to escape, tugging her towards the edge of the stage-making them be front and center.

“Oh, come on (y/n)~ it’ll be fun!” her friend said cheerfully, she’d didn’t understand why (y/n)…disliked ‘Professor’ Lockhart, even thinking he was hot.

It was one of the few things (y/n) vehemently disagreed with her on.

“it’ll be cringe as fuck that’s what it’ll be.” (y/n) grumbled, crossing her arms as she pouted. She expected maybe Professor Flitwick to be the head of the dueling club, but noooo it had to be the obvious fake Lockhart.

Though-Professor Snape had agreed to…help Lockhart in a demonstration, and that, was going to be fun.

(y/n) couldn’t help the peal of laughter that came from her as Snape sent Lockhart across the dueling stage, her friend gasping as Lockhart landed with a thump. “Is he okay?” her friend asked and (y/n) just snickered with the rest of the Slytherin members of the club.

“Who cares? That was funny.” (y/n) chuckled, smirking as her friend gave her a glare. After that everyone got paired into groups, Lockhart nearly putting the little 1st and 2nd years with the 5th and 6th years attending, Snape correcting that mistake and putting (y/n) against a fellow 6th-year Slytherin, though (y/n) hardly knew his name.

“Remember, disarm only!” Lockhart said and (y/n) rolled her eyes, bowing her to dueling partner with her wand at her side and then holding it out in front of her, her other arm over her head for balance.

The dueling began moments later, and spells shot out of their wands every other moment. (y/n) began with the disarming charm, expelliarmus, but her opponent blocked it and returned with a Stupefy. (y/n) went to block but it felt like she wasn’t in control of herself anymore, she stepped to the side-avoiding the spell-and held out her wand in a grip that wasn’t her own.

“Relashio!” With a wave of her wand her dueling opponent was forced to drop their wand and then (y/n) twirled her wand again. “Depulso!” A blast of white magic flew towards her dueling opponent and they flew back, hitting the ground with a loud thud.

There was an intense satisfaction that ran deep in her bones for a split moment, and an odd feeling to finish her opponent off-but that quickly went away and (y/n) pocketed her wand, rushing over to her dueling partner. “Are you okay?” (y/n) asked, offering her hand and her dueling partner chuckled painfully, rubbing their lower back as she helped them stand.

“I’m okay-that was wicked casting though,” (y/n) only nodded in response, licking her teeth as the dueling groups were stopped, a green haze in the air from the dueling 2nd years. She began to leave the great hall as Potter and Malfoy began to duel, only stopping when she heard a strange hissing coming from the stage.

She turned, the hissing sounding too familiar, coming from Potter as he…hissed at a black snake? Her ears began to ring, her vision going a bit blurry as she stared at Potter, the boy hissing at the snake before Snape destroyed it.

What the fuck?

That was the same hissing she’d heard in her dream on Sunday.

-end of p3-

im very happy with this part and i hope you guys are too-taglist!!!

@dracosslxt4eva @dream-your-own-way @slaggylemon

@slytherinbackintomyroom @starryhiraeth @larallott

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Every girl deserves to be a swan; Fred Weasley x reader

*Author's note*

Man I am such on a Weasley twins ROLL AREN'T I?! Why I had never written for the twins before once I got into the HP fandom is BEYOND me because they really are my comfort characters, every time they're on screen I can't help but get the fuzzy feels (esp. once I got to meet the Phelps twins back in Feb for Megacon, really lovely gentlemen they were *swoons*). Anyways this takes place during the GOF Yule Ball so enjoy yourselves my darlings :) Heads up gifs and pic down below do NOT belong to me, just using them as playful and helpful visuals thank you.

Taglist:

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@waddles03

@plethora-of-things

@queen-paladin

@psychosupernatural

@remussl0vers

_________________________________________________

I entered the Great Hall and saw the Golden trio sitting at the Gryffindor table.  But from the look on Hermione’s face as she read a copy of the Daily Prophet I knew she was fuming about something that nosey bitch Rita Skitter had now written.

“What’s happened now?” I asked as I came up beside Hermione.

“She’s done it again. Making me look like some sort of—wizard chaser. Jumping from one champion to another.” I took the daily prophet out of her hands, rolled it up before hitting her in the head with it. “Ow! What was that for?”

“For believing in the rubbish that she writes. C’mon Hermione you know who you are, everyone in the school knows you’re not some trouser chaser so don’t get your knickers in a twist about it. Besides my aunt has better dirt on Skitter than anyone else.”

“Like what?” I turned to the boys and whispered.

“I’ll tell you when we get to our dorms. Too sensitive for boys to hear.” Hermione gawked as she covered her mouth with her hand.

“Oi what are you two giggling on about? Sensitive about what?” Ron asked incredulously.

“Oh nothing ikkle-Ronniekins.” I teased.

“Ugh I can’t believe Fred and George told you about that nickname.” Groaned Ron.

“I think it’s adorable.” I couldn’t help but coo.  “Oh almost forgot here you are Harry.” I reached into my bag and pulled out some medical lotion made from Murtlap venom and Mandrake sap.  “Just put this on your cuts, no more than a finger-tip size twice a day and those cuts should heal up in no time.”

“Thanks (Y/n).” he took the bag from me as a young second year named Nigel came up with a parcel for Ron.  Ron thanked him and as Nigel kept standing there staring at Harry, Ron whispered something to him before the kid left the Great Hall.  Mione and I looked at Ron skeptically and Ron told us.

“I told him I’d get him Harry’s autograph.”

“Wow Ronald, cashing in on your best friend’s near-death experience to sell autographs. What a true friend you are.” I said sarcastically.

“Shut it (y/n).” I smirked at him as he then looked at his parcel and said happily, “Oh look mum sent me something.” He opened the box up and his excitement turned to shock as he pulled out the most flashy-outdated set of dress-robes I had ever seen.  “Mum sent me a dress.”

“Well it does match your eyes, is there a bonnet? Ah-ha!” Harry teased as he dug through the box and pulled out a ruffled collar that matched with the ruffles on the dress robes.

“Nose down Harry. Ginny, these must be for you.” Ron walked over to his sister with the dress robes.

“I’m not wearing that, it’s ghastly.” Ginny firmly said.  Hermione and I laughed again as Ron turned back towards us and he asked.

“What’s so funny now?”

“They’re not for Ginny, they’re for you.” Hermione said to which the other Gryffindor students began laughing, including Ron’s twin brothers Fred and George.

“They’re dress robes Ronald.” I told him.

“Dress robes, for what?”

After lunch, Professor McGonagall had called all of Gryffindor students to gather in one of the classrooms.  Girls sat on one side of the room while the boys gathered on the other side, a large gramophone stood at the center between us as Filch was trying to get it up and running while Professor McGonagall explained to us the Yule Ball.

“The Yule Ball, has been a tradition of the….TriWizard tournament…since it’s inception.” Once Filch was done messing with the gramophone, Professor McGonagall slowly walked between the space between us as she continued, “On Christmas Eve night, we and our guests gather in the Great Hall for a night of well-mannered frivolity. As representatives of the host school I expect each and every one of you to put your best foot forward. And I mean this literally because the Yule Ball is first and foremost….a dance.”

My heart sunk.  As idle chatter happened between the girls and loud groans came from the boys, all I did was look down at my wheelchair in shame.

It’s true, I’m probably the first wheel-chair bound witch that Hogwarts has ever seen.  When I was about 8, maybe 9 years old when my powers were starting to develop.  My parents were the religious radical lot.  When my aunt found out she was a witch, her entire family casted her out and damned her for all eternity.  My mum had feared that I too was starting to possess the ‘curse of the witches’ so she and my dad tried to get me help.

As we drove to a ‘specialist’, in my fear I had caused the car to crash which killed my parents immediately and I was left paralyzed.  Since everyone in my family besides my aunt blamed me for the death of my parents, I was soon taken into my aunt’s custody and I’ve lived a better life ever since.

Well I use ‘better’ in the fact that I don’t have to live in constant fear of showing off my powers or knowing that I wasn’t the only one out there who was like me.  But it’s hard when the Wizarding world hadn’t really caught up and tried to help witches and wizards like me who were either born paralyzed or became paralyzed in time.

So to say that my first year at Hogwarts was tough would be an understatement.  At least that was until I met the Weasley twins, who were in their second year at the time.  They became my constant light during school, always there to crack a joke to cheer me up or help me up the staircases until I had the levitation spell to help me navigate the stairs.

And when they discovered the Marauder’s Map and discovered all the secret passages and hallways without the need of stairs, they showed me the ways to navigate so that I wouldn’t get caught in the crowd of students and risk running anyone over.

“Silence!” Professor McGonagall’s voice broke me out of my trance and silenced everyone.  “The house of Godric Gryffindor has commanded the respect of the Wizard world for nearly 10 centuries. I will not have you in the course of a single evening besmirching that name by behaving like a babbling, bumbling band of baboons.”

My eyes turned immediately to the twins and I saw as George whispered something to Fred and soon the two of them began saying the Professor’s tongue twister.  I shook my head while failing the smile that came across my face.

“Now to dance is to let the body breathe. Inside every girl, a secret swan slumbers longing to burst forth and take flight.” Not my swan unfortunately.  While the other swans get to fly away, mine is stuck in the lake, her wings forever clipped.

“Something’s about to burst out of Eloise Midgen but I don’t think it’s a swan.” I heard Ron’s voice try to whisper to Seamus but the walls made it echo for all to hear.  I narrowed my eyes and made a mental note to myself to hex that boy into a pig later.  Just because a girl’s got a bit more weight to her, doesn’t make her any less beautiful than any other girl.

“Inside every boy, a lordly lion prepared to prance. Mr. Weasley,” Professor McGonagall hearing his comment from earlier decided to call Ron up front.

“Yes?” Ron said shamefully.

“Will you join me please?” Professor McGonagall held out her hand and pulled Ron up before the entire Gryffindor house as some of the boys laughed at him lowly.  “Now, place your right hand on my waist.”

“Where?” Ron gawked.

“My waist.” While Professor McGonagall tried to get Ron into a proper dancing position, a wolf whistle from Fred sounded off as Ron glared at his brothers who were enjoying this as much as I was.  “Mr. Filch if you please.” Filch then placed the needle down on the record and a simple waltz music soon played out of the gramophone.  Next thing we knew, we were watching as Professor McGonagall was leading Ron into a waltz.

I snickered behind my hand at Ron’s embarrassment as well as seeing the twins hum and sway along to the music before Harry got their attention.

“Oi.” The twins bent toward Harry as he asked them, “You’re never gonna let him forget this, are you?”

“Never.” Fred and George chorused with mischievous grins.

“Everybody come together. Boys on your feet.” Professor McGonagall soon said to everyone after the demonstration of the waltz.  Immediately every girl stood up while the boys seemed to sink lower in their chairs or avoid eye contact with any girl.  That was until Neville was the first one to stand up.

One by one students of Gryffindor were paired up but I kept to the back and decided to sneak out of the room and avoid the dance lesson all together.  Cause literally what’s the point of a dance lesson if I can’t even stand on my own two feet?  Suddenly I felt my wheelchair get pulled back with a slight yank.  I let out a slight yelp as a voice said.

“And where do you think you are going?” I leaned back against my chair and turned my head upward to see the familiar ginger haired, brown-eyed eldest Weasley twin looking down at me with that puppy dog head-tilt of his and smile that could outshine the very sun itself.

“I don’t know. Maybe the courtyard, it is a lovely day after all.”

“As brilliant as it was to see Ronald get fully embarrassed by our entire house, I believe there is one swan missing from the flock that needs her dance lesson.”

“Fred,” I sighed deeply before looking down insecurely.  “I’m afraid this swan can never ‘burst forth and take flight’ like our Head of House had stated. I’m just the swan stuck in the lake who sadly got her wings clipped. Never knowing what it would feel like to fly.” Fred knelt down beside me, his hand gently encompassing mine as I felt his fingers slowly intertwine with mine.

“Babbling, bumbling band of baboons five times faster.” Fred said after a brief moment of silence.  I turned to look at him and asked.

“What?”

“Funny little…..what did you once call it a uhh—tongue turner?”

“Tongue twister.”

“That’s it. Can you say it? George couldn’t get it after the third go.”

“And what about you?” I challenged.

“Didn’t slip once.”

“I doubt that.”

“Well go on then, ladies first.” He then challenged me, the hint of mischief and competition burning in his eyes as he adjusted his position.  I went first saying McGonagall’s tongue twister before Fred went next.  Back and forth the two of us went until I fumbled right at the last time saying.  I groaned in defeat while Fred exclaimed in victory.  “Ha see!”

“You were squishing my cheeks by the fourth time.”

“You just can’t accept your defeat like a good sport.” Fred playfully mocked as he patted my head.

“Sod off.” I grumbled as I slapped his hand away while he chuckled playfully.  “But seriously Fred, thanks for cheering me up.”

“Anytime (Y/n). Now you said we’re going for the courtyard?”

“Hold on ‘we?’ Just because I left the dance lesson, doesn’t mean you have an excuse.”

“Sure I do. If anyone asks why we left early, I’ll just say I kidnapped you because the dance lesson was boring and just plain rubbish.” Fred said as he stood up and went back behind me taking hold of the bars of my wheelchair and began wheeling me towards the courtyard.

“What would I do without you Fred Weasley?”

“Probably lose your mind out of pure boredom.” He shrugged nonchalantly as he continued to wheel me towards the courtyard where the two of us sat by the fountain and just chatted away.

The days went on and all anyone could talk about was the Yule Ball.  Everywhere I would go, I’d see boys trying to work up the courage to ask a girl out, or girls traveling together as they’d gush about who they longed to go to the ball with.

But hearing all this talk about the ball continued to weigh heavily on me and my insecurities started flaring at an all time high.  Especially with the ladies of Beauxbatons would see me and look at me with nothing but pity.  Even the Durmstrang boys, who I’d see go up to girls with confident bows and gentleman like manner ask a girl to the ball, gave me pity.  Once a group of them had seen me in the Great Hall and they all began whispering about which one of them should even attempt to ask me to the ball.

It was one thing when I got ogled at my first year by the students of Hogwarts, but now adding two more schools for being wheelchair bound and showing me nothing but pity began to really frustrate me.

Currently it was study period in the Great Hall and unfortunately for us, Professor Snape was in charge and he made it perfectly clear that we weren’t to make a sound.  Anyone who did, got a whack to the head, especially Harry and Ron.  I was doing my Care for Magical creatures homework that Hagrid had assigned for us on Bowtruckles when I felt a balled up piece of parchment hit my head.

“Oi (Y/n).” I heard Fred’s voice whisper.  I looked at him and mouthed out as I shrugged a ‘what?’ at him.  He then mouthed out to me, “Do you,” he pointed at me before mouthing out again, “Wanna go to the ball,” he began mimicking the waltz the others were forced to learn before pointing to himself finishing his question, “with me?”

I felt myself froze.  This wasn’t happening was it? He couldn’t be serious, someone tell me he wasn’t serious.

“The ball?” I mouthed out.  He nodded.  My heart raced as I rubbed my hand to my thigh insecurely.  Without even thinking I found myself nodding to his invitation.  Bloody hell why did I say yes? Why did you say yes to him? The boy you’ve had a crush on since your second year, why? Why? Why? Why?

When classes were over for the day, my brain was in a whirlwind of anxiety as I lay on my bed thinking back to Fred’s proposal to the Ball.  It was a pity date, it had to be. No other explanation.  He didn’t want me to feel left out so he thought we’d go as friends.  Yeah, yeah that was it.

But what if and this is a big what if—what if he does somewhere deep down feel the same way that I do? Oh come off it (Y/n) now you’re talking crazy! Who in their right mind could love someone like you?

I sighed and tossed the covers off my body and dragged myself over to the chair and wheeled myself toward the Common room.  Thank Godric no one was there so I could have some privacy for a while.  I sat by the fireplace and stared into the dancing flames when I heard a meow break me from my trance.

“Hey Sassy.” Sassy was my long haired black ragdoll cat.  Her piercing green eyes stared up at me as she lifted herself up on her hind legs.  I patted my lap and she leapt onto my lap with a merp and she immediately settled down into my lap purring.  “Can I be honest with you girl?” she turned and looked up at me.  “Should I have accepted Fred’s invitation to go to the ball? I mean, did he ask me out of pity or….does he really care for me?”

Sassy let out another merp before meowing softly as she raised her paw at me.

“I know that we’ve been friends ever since my first year but ever since my third year I just…..” she let out another meow as she raised herself up and nipped at my nose.  I giggled and gave her scritches as I pressed my forehead against her head.  “Yeah, I’ve fallen for him. I fancy him, I love him whatever term you wish to use. The way the sun reflects off that red hair of his, the hidden freckles dotted across his face like stars in the night sky, his beaming bright eyes, and his smile…..Godric his smile.” I sighed lovingly.

That was the first thing I noticed about both twins was their smile.  While most would say ‘it’s the same smile’, you’re actually wrong.  George’s smile while dazzling as well has a more softer edge to it, it’s not as blazing as Fred’s is.  When Fred smiles, it’s like staring up at the sun itself.  He physically shows all of the emotions behind his smile whether it’s playful, cheeky, admiration or fondness.

“I really do love him. And he’s my best friend but—how can I be the perfect girlfriend when I can’t even take a step?” I continued to stroke Sassy’s fur when a voice spoke up.

“If you want my perspective on things, he’d be a right up tosser to reject someone like you for that reason.” Oh no…. Sassy hopped off my lap and went over to the big arm chair that sat right in front of the grand fireplace and I saw a familiar hand reach down toward her and Sassy reached up and rubbed herself against the hand that was now petting her.

After a few pets, he leaned over the arm of the chair and there sat Fred Weasley himself.  The light from the fireplace reflecting his brown eyes as they held a firm and determined look to them.  I covered my mouth as I looked away but I heard him walk towards me before he knelt down in front of me.

“Can’t you just pretend not to have heard any of that?”

“Fraid not love.” I buried my face into my hands.  I felt Fred’s hands gently take my wrists and pull them down as they rested on my lap, our hands intertwined together as I felt his thumb gently stroke the back of my knuckles sending tingles throughout my body.  “Do you remember when we first met at King’s Cross station?”

“How could I forget?”

“Tell me what happened.”

“Why?”

“Humor me, what happened that day?” the look in his eyes was soft and comforting as he tilted his head down at me, encouraging me to speak about the day that changed my life.

“My aunt was pulling my cart while I was wheeling beside her. Sassy was in my lap when she suddenly decided to run off on me. I chased after her but being at a train station in a wheel chair is hard enough as it is without the large crowd of muggles shoving their way across. When we came to platform 9 and ¾ I was afraid that my wheelchair wouldn’t make it through the platform, that’s when I felt someone grab my wheelchair from behind and say, ‘Looks like you’ve got your own 24/7 cart. At least you won’t be late to classes, won’t you wheels?’ Molly was livid with you.”

“Even called me George at the time. Still to this day she can’t tell us apart.”

“That’s because more than half the time you boys trick her into thinking that you’re the other one like you did your third year.” Fred gave a small smirk before it softened.

“Do you know why I asked you to remember that day?”

“Why?”

“Because that day I saw a very unique witch. A witch who I believed wasn’t gonna let anyone tell her otherwise what she could or couldn’t do because of her circumstance. You were interesting, and as both George and I got to dig deeper into that brilliant, delicious brain of yours,” he emphasized his point by poking the center of my forehead which got me to smile a real smile for the first time since the announcement of the Yule Ball. “You became someone I had to have in my life. And I’m never letting you go.”

“But doesn’t my—you know, change things between us?”

“Who says the feelings not mutual?” my heart raced as my breath softly hitched.

“You mean……”

“Like I said, I’d have to be a bloody tosser to reject you for a reason like that.” He reached up and tucked a few strands of my hair behind my ear.  Sparks seemed to zap the moment I felt his fingers graze the tip of my ear.  “And for being your friend because of sympathy is complete rubbish. You’re clever, you’re funny, you’re the only witch I’ve known you can put Pucey in his place with the fasted wand draw I’ve ever seen.” We both softly laughed remembering when I had hexed Adrian Pucey my second year at Hogwarts when he had challenged me to a wizard’s duel during our DADA class.

He had underestimated me thinking that I wouldn’t be able to dodge any attacks because of my wheelchair.  But having no function of my legs made me learn to be quick with my arms, that includes drawing out my wand and performing a spell in a time of need.  I took him down easily with a Petrificus Totalus hex.

“And you’re the only witch in this whole school, nay in the world that I would want at my side at the Yule Ball this Christmas eve.” Slowly and cautiously he leaned in closer so that our foreheads were touching, his nose softly grazing against mine. “And I’ll gladly ask you a million times to confirm this, do you, (Y/n) (l/n) want to go to the ball with me?”

“Yes Freddie, yes a million times yes.” I wept happily before leaning in to kiss him.  My hands cupped his jawline while his arms wrapped around my waist pulling me closer to him.  Our kiss deepening before we separated and embraced each other.  As I rested my chin on his shoulder, he whispered to me.

“And don’t worry about the actual dancing part of the ball, just leave that to me.” I let out a watery laugh.

“How do you always seem to know my hidden anxieties?”

“It’s a gift.” He separated from our embrace but he returned to our first position with our foreheads touching, “All you need to worry about love is what dress you’ll need to find. And maybe also go with Ginny to make sure she doesn’t buy anything too—revealing.”

“She’ll be fine. She’s going with Neville as friends.”

“Still she’s going to the ball with a boy. She shouldn’t even be dancing with boys yet.” I scoffed as I playfully smacked his arm.

“You’re cute when you get all protective.”

“Oh yeah?” his cocky, mischievous expression shined across his face.

“Don’t make me take it back now.”

“Too late love.” He chuckled before capturing my lips in another soft, loving kiss.

Soon the big night arrived, I was with Hermione, Angelina, Ginny and Katie getting ready.  With Hermione and Angelina holding me up from my chair, I was able to get my dress on me with magic.  It was a fairly long (but not too long) V-neck champagne colored dress with spaghetti straps.  It had some ruffles at the bottom but not enough to block the wheels on my chair.

Katie had styled my hair into a waterfall braid before adding a charm to it so that my hair would stay that way and not allow a single hair to go out of place.  And while she was doing my hair, I had Ginny kneeling in front of me as I brushed her hair and styled it with a few braids.

“You guys think this isn’t enough?” asked Hermione doubtfully as she studied herself in the mirror.

“You look beautiful Hermione. My idiot brother screwed up big time.” Ginny said as I continued to braid the hair on the other side of her head.

“I agree with Gin, once he sees you with his crush, he’ll be crawling to you for forgiveness.” I told her.

“Praise Godric on that sister.” Agreed Angelina as Katie hummed in agreement.

“Thanks girls, really. Being a muggle-born witch is stressful enough but now to try and hold a tradition of a wizard’s ball it’s been….”

“Listen to me Hermione Granger, you have more class and beauty thank most witches will tonight.” Angelina told her as she grasped her biceps. 

“Yeah, Ron was being a total git trying to be all cool about this whole Yule Ball. Don’t let him nor anyone else dictate how you should feel tonight.” I told her.

“Is that what Fred said to you?” Hermione couldn’t help but tease.

“That’s between us.” I replied cheekily as I finished Ginny’s hair and she thanked me while I helped her put on her necklace.

“Okay are we ready ladies?” Katie asked.  We all turned to each other and nodded and we proceeded toward the Great Hall.  At first any staircases I came up against, I had to quickly learn the Levitation spell in order to get up the stairs but soon enough the school seemed to understand my situation and would change part of the stairs into a ramp and would either lower or rise up kinda like an escalator.

Hermione was pushing my wheelchair across the corridors until we came near the Great Hall entrance.  I turned to her and said.

“Thanks Hermione, but you go on ahead.”

“You sure?”

“She’s sure.” Fred’s voice spoke up.  He came toward us and I couldn’t help but admire how handsome he looked.  My dress matching the waistcoat he wore underneath his dress robes.  “I’ll take it from here Granger.” Fred said as I held out my hand and he took it as he bowed to kiss the back of it.

Hermione soon left us and I said to him.

“Who would’ve thought Fred Weasley could pull off the fancy dress robes?”

“I’m full of surprises love, shall we?” I nodded and he came behind me and pushed my chair towards the last staircase I needed to face before getting to the Great Hall.  Fred knelt down and extended his arms out as he said, “If I may,” I giggled and nodded as he picked me up from my chair bridal style and carried me down the staircase.

I then used the levitation spell to bring my wheelchair down the last few stairs and set it down before Fred gently set me back down in my chair.

“Before long, you won’t have to worry about this thing for the rest of the night.” He whispered to me.

“What does that mean?” Fred only grinned cheekily at me as he winked at me before pushing me into the Great Hall.  I knew Hogwarts always outdid itself during the holiday season, especially around Christmas time but this—this was truly wonderous and magical.

The Great Hall just gleamed a pure white as snow fell from the ceiling.  The dance ring ahead almost looked like an ice-rink, three grand Christmas trees stood at the end of the Great Hall where the Professors would usually sit, the band could be heard warming up their instruments and Professor Flitwick readied himself as the conductor and had one final word with the band.  Multiple tables stood on either side and held a beautiful ice sculptures displayed along with some food and drinks.

“Wow.” I couldn’t help but exhale.

“Wow indeed, but that’s not the beautiful sight I’m referring to.” Fred said.  I rolled my eyes playfully as he wheeled me over to George and Katie and we just chatted away until the arrival of the Triwizard champions was announced through the band.  The four of them and their dates leas the first waltz before the Professors and then some of the students began to join in.

I looked at my wheelchair then back up to Fred as he continued to watch as more students filled the dance floor.  I then watched as he reached into his robes and pulled what appeared to be some sort of sweet before holding out to me.

“What’s this?”

“Eat it.”

“This isn’t one of your pranks is it? Cause this is incredible insensitive and very poor timing for a test run Weasley.”

“Ye have little faith my dear. I solemnly swear, just eat it love.” He continued to hold out the circular white sweet.  I took it and popped it into my mouth.  Almost instantly as it hit my tongue, it began to dissolve and there was a sugar rush that popped in my mouth as I chewed it up before swallowing the pieces.

Nothing seemed to happen for a few seconds, that was until I felt myself rising up out of my chair.  Fred took hold of my hands as I was almost eye level with him now and he said.

“Shall we dance, my secret swan?” I looked down and saw that I was levitating just a few feet above the ground.  I looked up at Fred and he said, “It’s a minor levitation spell candy, I’ve been dabbling in it to sell at the shop, haven’t worked out the name yet unfortunately. One taste of this and you’ll levitate just a few feet off the ground for a few hours but you feel like you’re defying gravity.”

“Fred you—I can’t believe you did this.” I could feel tears forming in my eyes.

“Don’t cry, I didn’t know what to expect from you but I didn’t want tears.” He dabbed my eyes with his dress robe sleeves, being very mindful of my makeup.

“They’re not sad tears. These are happy tears, no one has ever done anything like this for me. Thank you so much.” I embraced him and he embraced me back while kissing my temple.

“So what do you say, ready to dance with this Lordly lion?” I giggled as I nodded and he guided me over to the dance floor and I followed his lead, gliding through the air as we danced together.  As all of us girls would be lifted up by our dates, I had seen that I was the one being lifted higher than the rest.

The once crippled swan was now soaring higher than all the other swans.  Even as the night went on and the spell sadly wore off, it didn’t stop Fred from dancing with me.  He’d hold me up against him and just gently sway side to side.

This would forever be the happiest moment of my life and it was all thanks to a boy who believed that every girl deserves to be a swan once in their life.

[sophie-hatter-jenkins]

Part 8: Messy

A March 2025 Hinny Microfic for @ginnystrophyhusband using Prompt 9

689 words (that's more like it)

All the March prompts that I write will be set in the same universe as, and form a prequel to, this fic. Hopefully they'll all stand alone, but they'll also form a little story of their own, which is why they're numbered.

Fair warning - it's going to be fluffy!

Read them all from the beginning on AO3

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On the evening that Harry and Ginny host their Painting Party, Harry is fascinated by the very different ways in which their friends and family approach the task in hand. 

Ron hasn’t actually left the kitchen, AKA the closest spot to the pizza boxes and the cooler containing bottles of beer, but despite the amount of food and drink he’s consumed, he’s nearly finished the whole room. He’s definitely the evening’s MVP.

Hermione is neat and methodical (shocker), but also painfully slow. They’ve been painting for almost two hours, and she’s barely finished the first coat on her designated wall.

Neville is an absolute liability. Decorating is clearly not his thing, because so far, he’s tripped over one paint can, dropped his brush into another, and spilled paint all down his jumper. At least some of it made it onto the wall too, which, Harry supposes, is all that really counts. 

Luna applies the paint in random daubs and swirls, following an intricate pattern that only she can see. If she had any colours available other than Nordic Sky, Harry thinks it would probably be absolutely beautiful.

George hasn’t actually picked up a paintbrush at all, having nominated himself as DJ for the evening. Ginny’s made several pointed comments about it, all of which George has ignored,  but Harry doesn’t mind; it makes the painting party feel like more of an actual party. Besides, he’s brought Angelina with him, and she’s more than made up for George’s lack of productivity.

It goes without saying, though, that his favourite person to watch is Ginny. Typically, she approaches painting with commitment and enthusiasm. She’s currently attempting to get a straight line between the wall and the skirting board (which Ron tells him is called ‘cutting in’), and Harry can see the very tip of her tongue, velvety pink, poking out from between her lips, the way it does when she is really concentrating in something. It’s messy work, though; there’s paint on her knees and all over her fingers, and Harry smiles fondly when he realises that she’s got a splodge on the tip of her nose too. 

“You got any buckets, mate?” asks Ron, sidling up to him and handing over one of the two bottles of beer he’s holding. 

Harry’s alarmed. “Yeah. Why? Is something wrong?” 

Ron smirks at him. “Too bloody right. That soppy expression you get on your face when you look at my sister. It’s nauseating.”

Harry snorts with laughter and takes a pull of his beer. “I could say the same about you and Hermione, you know.”

“You’re really doing this? Moving in together?” asks Ron. 

“Yeah, we really are,” Harry nods. 

Ron shrugs. “Big step,” he observes.

“You’re okay with it, right?” The question is out of Harry’s mouth before he can stop it, even though Harry knows that Ron’s absolutely fine with him and Ginny; that hasn’t been a question for literally years. It’s also completely redundant, because it isn’t like Ron’s answer would change anything, not now.

“Course,” Ron confirms anyway, taking a swig of beer. “I’m definitely fine with it, even if I don’t understand it.”

Harry’s known Ron long enough to recognise a set-up when he hears one. “Go on, then. What about this confuses you?”

“Honestly, the part of me that grew up with Ginny is always going to wonder what the hell you see in my annoying brat of a kid sister, but you seem quite keen on her, so I guess there’s no accounting for taste.” 

Harry lets out a puff of laughter. “Yeah well. I don’t know if I’ve ever told you, but I took a blow to the head when I was a kid.”

Ron snorts. “I think it was mentioned once or twice. Seriously though, I’m made up for both of you. I can see how happy both are.” He eyes Harry speculatively. “I do have one really important question for you, though.”

“Yeah.”

“We’re not telling her about the paint on her nose, right?”

Now it’s Harry’s turn to smirk. He looks back at Ginny, still cutting in like an absolute trooper. “Nope.”

[fa-headhoncho]

Unlike The Rest: "Love" Letter

(Eventual) George Weasley x Malfoy!Reader

Summary: George isn't too keen on his older brother Charlie visiting.

Word Count: 1232

Reader: Female

Warnings: None!

Author’s Note: Shout out to everyone who keeps reading these. I have been posting these for the last 5 years and there is no schedule what so ever. I have a huge backlog of these when I need comfort.

If you have requests for this series, please send them. No promises when they will get done but you will be tagged.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

=====

The corridors are bursting at the seams when the clock signals the end of the day. The extra two student bodies make it almost impossible to move down the hallway at even a turtle’s pace. Yet, that does not stop you as you drag Ginny through the current of people. Some Beauxbatons girls send you glares at the lack of manners when you plow through them but you don't care. 

You didn’t remember when you picked up the youngest Weasley, you just saw a tuff of the familiar shade of red long hair and started dragging her to the next destination.

The leaves crunch under your Oxfords when you stomp onto the grounds in front of the clocktower. You finally come to a barreling stop, sending Ginny to almost trip over herself before you catch her.

After a moment of you helping her steady herself, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “What’s gotten into you?” She just gets a brief moment of eye contact before your eyes flick to her tie. The thing is a mess, tangled messily and you can’t help but shove a piece of parchment under your armpit and reach out to fix it.

The motions of untying the scarlet knot seem to bring you back, the muscle memory of it all pulling your racing mind to a halt. “Just-“ Your lips pull into a grin, the sprinting across the castle and slight autumn breeze adding color to the apples of your cheeks. “Just excited, that's all.” The parchment under your arm burns mockingly at your understatement.

Ginny stares at you while you fix the tie she so hastily slugged on this morning to beat the traffic. She runs different scenarios in her head that might cause such a reaction, the color on your cheeks seems like a blush… “Did your sweet Georgie finally write you a love let—“ She cuts herself off with a choking sound when you tighten her tie a little too tight.

The warning glint in your eye when you so innocently look back at her tells her she’s wrong yet she can’t help the teasing grin that slips onto her own face at the reaction. “Worse than my own little brother sometimes.” You mumble, fixing her hair back over her shoulders before turning away.

She rolls her eyes, knowing the quip was joking considering you give her your “hand-me-downs” that somehow always fit her perfectly. But she has no time to call you out because you’re grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the group of her brothers sitting by the fountain.

You stop before the three of them, still out of breath with one hand gripping the piece of parchment and the other cutting off the circulation in Ginny’s hand. The breeze ruffles your hair even more, the strands that fell out of your hair-do tickling your nose.

The good mood you were in dampers slightly when you see Ron staring up at you from his place by his brothers. You let out a hum, annoyed to see him since he’s still giving poor Harry a hard time.

The fourth year shared an almost identical eyeroll to his sister’s from earlier as he munches on some candy. “What do you want, Malfoy?” The twins' heads comically snap up at his tone, both giving their little brother different disgusted looks.

“I thought the agreement was you don’t talk and we let you sit by us.” Fred reminds the boy and you honestly wonder how his eyes didn’t roll out of this head. He mumbles something under his breath before shoving a handful of chocolates into his mouth again.

The twins finally turn to you, who is nearly vibrating out of your skin at this point with the news you’ve been holding in for the last few hours. “What’s with the impromptu family reunion?” He greets you with.

You release Ginny’s hand and hold out the piece of parchment out like a kid showing their mom their highly scored exam. “This.” You gleam with a lift to your voice.

“What is it?”

“Secret admirer.” Ginny’s response earns her a glare from George.

You let out a dreamy sigh, turning the paper over to read the words again, “Even better.” The three siblings all hold in their amusement at George’s abrupt standing. He swiftly switches places with his sister who gladly takes her seat on the lip of the fountain.

The taller boy tries to read the supposed letter over your shoulder but you are quick to hug it to your chest. “You know how your brother is… visiting.” They all nod, “Well, Charlie convinced Dumbledore to let me see the dragons when they all come as long as I don’t tell anyone.”

“Doing a grand job at that.” Ron snorts but you ignore him, too excited to entertain his snarkiness. 

“How did you even find out about him coming?”

You shrug, oh so casually with the bomb you drop on poor Georgie’s heart. “Oh, well, he told me.”

“When?”

You scoff like he knew that you’ve been pen pals with his hotter older brother who takes care of dragons. “Our last letter. Come on, Georgie, he’s been sending me letters ever since the whole Norbert thing. He even said that they might be taking interns this summer and he’ll put in a good word for me.”

“Since third year?” He mutters out, acting as if you just told him that they blocked all the secret passageways they memorized from that map. “Before we were even friends?”

You shrug, mumbling a “I thought we were friends.” under your breath before perking up again. “Well, just thought I’d tell you lot so you wouldn’t be so surprised to see me down there in a couple days. Plus, this is like the best thing that’s happened to me since I saw Buckbeak take a chunk out of Draco and I can’t even tell Cedric anything.”

George’s mind is doing laps around the castle grounds at how fast you’re moving past the topic of exchanging letters with his cool brother for the last three years. He doesn’t even hear you talking with the rest of his siblings before you announce you were heading to the library to draft up a list of questions to ask Charlie and his fellow dragon tamers.

He snaps out of his trance as you start to walk away, grabbing the strap of your bag to get your attention. The three are Weasley’s left sitting there struggling at this point to keep their composure, just watching their brother almost beg his crush for one drop of recognition. 

The tall redhead doesn’t even ask to come with you, he just leaves you standing there confused as he gathers his things from the courtyard’s floor and snatches the parchment from your hands before walking away.

You whine out his name, now trailing after him to get back the letter that confirmed your visit. George nearly preens at you following him, every so often jumping and bumping into him to get your letter from his outstretched hand.

“I can’t wait for Charlie to visit now.” Ginny is the one to break the silence after you and George disappear in the crowd at the doors under the clock. The two brothers let out a fit of giggles, barely audible words of agreement between laughs.