#ginny does that writing thing

[hosseinis]

“I guess flying’s out of the question,” he croaks, his face pinched. “Yeah.” “Then what the fuck are you going to do to fix this?” Strahm hisses, turning his head to glare at him again. There’s so much sheer rage in his eyes that Mark wonders if he’s ever set someone on fire with that gaze before. Strahm’s eyes are so blue, but unlike the strange, icy coldness of John’s or the ocean of Lawrence’s, there’s something in them that doesn’t quite have a place. The sky, maybe. “I’m gonna drive you there,” Mark replies easily. “We’re gonna take a little roadtrip together, you and me.” This time, Strahm gapes at him. “...are you fucking crazy?” he finally asks, not seeming to care how the rise in volume must hurt his throat. “What the fuck makes you think I would ever get in a car with you? Let alone fucking drive to Colorado? You’re lucky I haven’t already tried to strangle your murdering—” “Yeah, you’d get a lot done with one working arm,” Mark comments over him mildly, and somehow Strahm still manages to flush. “Fuck you,” he says, and looks away.

Mark had never planned for Strahm to survive if he didn't get into the glass coffin. It'd never even crossed his mind that he could, so when the hydraulic systems fail... well, he doesn't really know what the fuck to do about that.

Now he has a very injured, very pissed off FBI agent on his hands that he may or may not have framed for murder. But maybe Mark can still try to make Strahm understand just what it is he'd been trying to tell him in the first place.

(or, mark and peter go on a road trip to get peter's arm taken care of, and learn things about each other along the way.)

read on ao3!

[hosseinis]

i did write something about this i couldn't help it

au where Strahm loses his voice entirely & permanently from the tracheotomy

food for thought

[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!

[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?

[maxdibert]

Lily doesn’t seem to think she’s done anything wrong by insulting his poverty and aligning herself with his abusers - only Severus is remorseful, and the trauma that caused him to lash out was considerably worse than the trauma that caused her to lash out. She believes he deserves it, as apparently she believed his abuse was amusing. And I’d be totally fine with this from a character perspective because it’s the teenage condition to be self-centred and poor at self-reflection. But the *narrative* (and the author in interviews) doesn’t believe Lily was in the wrong here. And it believes Lily made the correct moral judgment on the two boys when she casts Severus off for his crime and falls in love with James despite his. But I just don’t buy into that framing, and I didn’t even when I was 10. The use of the word ‘mudblood’ while in considerable distress is not a greater sin than sexual assault.

Lily feels no remorse, nor does she think it's wrong to half-smile at the bully who’s targeting your so-called friend. She doesn’t even consider that this might be why your supposed best friend insulted you in the first place. But here’s the thing: this isn't Lily's fault. It's J.K. Rowling's fault, and the way she portrays ethical dilemmas throughout the series, blurring the lines between what's morally right and wrong. Now, if you’ll allow me, before diving into the dynamics between Lily and Severus, I’d like to provide some context as to why I believe the biggest issue with many of the characters’ attitudes in the series lies in Rowling’s constant attempt to project her own moral compass through her writing. In doing so, she falls into repeated inconsistencies and creates a narrative that’s all over the place when it comes to how certain characters are treated.

Rowling is never consistent. She portrays Draco Malfoy as an irredeemable, terrible character because he’s a rich kid spoiled by his parents, using his power and influence to bully those weaker than him. Yet, she gives James the benefit of the doubt, even though he behaved exactly the same way: a rich bully who used his status and his friends to gang up on the vulnerable. From early interviews, Rowling claimed Pansy Parkinson is practically the reincarnation of Satan, even though, of all the antagonists, Pansy is probably one of the least relevant and harmless. This is simply because Rowling projected onto her the stereotypical “mean girls” who mock those who read and study—something Rowling clearly couldn’t stand. On the other hand, she glorifies characters like Ginny, who has a pretty nasty attitude towards any girl she doesn’t consider cool or "not like the other girls." Ginny treats Fleur like a witch when Fleur has done nothing wrong—her only crime is being incredibly beautiful, knowing it, and not constantly apologizing for it. And this treatment of female characters throughout the series deserves a proper gendered critique, because they fall into every stereotype and archetype set by the traditional male gaze.

In Rowling's world, there are always two kinds of women. When it comes to younger, adolescent characters, there are the "good" women—those who don’t fit the typical feminine mold, the weird ones (like Luna), the tomboys who are “one of the guys” (like Ginny), or the overly studious ones who don’t have time for frivolous things like reading magazines or talking about boys (like Hermione). In other words, the cool girls, the ones who are supposed to be role models, are those who "aren’t like the other girls." But not because they’re deconstructing gender roles consciously—they just happen to embody the fantasy of the woman who can give you kids while still being one of your bros. It’s a common male fantasy, where women abandon the graceful, ethereal, delicate image to fit into a set of needs the modern man has. These are "manic pixie dream girls," hiding a deeply internalized misogyny as they are presented as individuals opposed to the “other” women—the “other” being less cool because they lack traditionally masculine traits, and thus are less than. We see this not only with how Fleur is treated but also with the disdain or prejudice Hermione shows towards girls like Lavender or the Patil sisters, just because they act like normal teenagers instead of validating themselves through academia to compensate for their inferiority complex (cough, cough).

Then we have the adult female characters, where Rowling’s toxic and incredibly conservative view of motherhood kicks in. Except for McGonagall, the rest of the adult women who are seen in a positive light are either already mothers or end up becoming mothers. And for them, motherhood is everything. They are mothers first and women second, in every case. Lily is Harry’s mother, who sacrifices herself for him. Molly is the Weasley matriarch, whose entire life revolves around her kids—she hasn’t even looked for a job (which wouldn’t be a bad idea, considering the family’s financial situation), nor does she have any aspirations beyond knitting sweaters and worrying about her children. Even Narcissa, a negative character throughout most of the saga, earns her redemption solely because she loves her son and is willing to risk everything for him. Nymphadora Tonks, a 25-year-old woman, ends up pregnant by a man 13 years older than her and goes from being an independent Auror with her own life to a passive housewife waiting for her man, who is off having an existential crisis. The adult women in the saga aren’t independent individuals—they’re extensions of their children. And any woman who isn’t a perfect, self-sacrificing mother (like Merope Gaunt) is either a psychopath or portrayed as a terrible person.

What I’m getting at is that Rowling is far from impartial in the moral narrative of the story. In fact, she’s absolutely inconsistent. She presents characters she sells as "good," whose attitudes are absolute trash, yet she continues to insist that they’re good and perfect. This is especially obvious with her female characters, because throughout the seven books, she constantly emphasizes her ideal of the "perfect woman" in terms of tastes, motivations, and behavior. Hermione is a self-insert, Ginny is probably a projection of who Rowling wishes she could’ve been, and Luna is the quirky girl who isn’t “threatening” to other women, and is treated with a condescending, paternalistic lens. They are either Rowling’s aspirational figures or archetypes that don’t bother her, or they’re reduced to filler characters who are mistreated by the narrative.

When it comes to Lily, the problem is that Rowling spends half the saga painting her as some kind of Mother Teresa. She’s the quintessence of motherhood—but not a conscious, modern motherhood, but one rooted in traditional Judeo-Christian ideals. This is the kind of motherhood that can do no wrong, the one that represents women because, in this view, a woman can’t be fulfilled unless she’s a mother. Lily dies for her son, and that love creates a divine, protective magic. She’s beautiful, popular, and one of the most popular guys at school is after her. Clearly, she must be a saint, because everyone describes her as such. And while the narrative does question James’s perfection, even if vaguely and unsuccessfully, it doesn’t do the same with Lily. Harry questions his father’s actions but never his mother’s. He never stops to think about how problematic it is that his mother almost laughed at Severus or refused to hear his apology, or that she couldn’t empathize with what he was going through, knowing full well the kind of situation Severus had at home. When a narrative tells you something but never shows it, and worse, never questions it, that’s a problem. Something doesn’t add up. Rowling is obsessed with showing her own moral line through her characters and doesn’t realize how incoherent it is to portray Lily as someone who always does the right thing when what we actually see of her suggests that, if she really liked James all along, not only is she a hypocrite, but she’s also quite superficial with questionable principles. But this is never addressed, never explored. It would be fascinating if it were, giving the character more depth and making her more relatable. But Rowling brushes all this aside, as she does with so many other things, because to her, Lily was a role model, despite the fact that anyone with common sense can see she was just a terrible friend who got tired of justifying why she hung out with a poor, scruffy kid and ultimately decided it made more sense to date the rich, handsome bully.

[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.

[saintsenara]

Thoughts on Ron and Hermione as a ship?

thank you very much for the ask, @thesilverstarling!

i’ll state my position straight away: book ron and hermione are the best of the canon couples.

they will have a long and extremely happy marriage made rich by great and stalwart love, lust, fun, and faithfulness, rather than held together by duty and couples’ therapy like so many readers and authors (including jkr, who seems to have decided to spend the years since the conclusion of the series failing to understand anything about her own characters) tend to think.

i will state another position straight away: lest i seem like i’m just a fan with blinkers on, i think this even though hermione is, by far, my least favourite member of the trio. if she were real i would detest her, and i dislike how she is treated by the narrative as always justified in her negative characteristics. i like fanon hermione - perfect and preternaturally good - even less.

as a result, i think that it’s ridiculous that jkr has said that she thought ron needed to ‘become worthy’ of hermione. they belong together as equals - which is what they’re set up in the narrative as being from the off - and i hate seeing that undermined.

because ronald weasley? he’s an icon. and he doesn’t get anywhere near the respect he deserves in fandom.

there are multiple reasons for this - ron’s narrative purpose is to be the everyman sidekick, and so he is able to be less special than harry or hermione (the helper-figure); the amount of aristocracy wank in this fandom means that the weasleys’ ordinariness is less appealing to writers than making harry have twenty different lordships and call himself hadrian; the narrative interrogates ron’s flaws - especially his capacity for jealousy - much more intensively than it interrogates either hermione’s (cruel, inflexible, meddling) or harry’s (reckless, self-absorbed, judgemental) - but one i feel is particularly significant is that ron is such a british character that many of his traits are not understood as intended by non-british readers.

in particular - as is outlined in this excellent meta by @whinlatter - ron’s sense of humour isn’t indicative of immaturity or a lack of seriousness, but is, in fact, evidence that he’s the most emotionally aware of the trio.

ron is shown throughout the series to understand how both harry and hermione need to have their emotions approached - and i think there is no piece of writing which says this better than crocodile heart by @floreatcastellumposts:

That was what she liked most about Ron, she thought vaguely. He was very good at being suitably outraged on your behalf. For Harry, for her, for Neville. That sort of thing mattered, when you were hurt or embarrassed or wronged in some way. You needed to have someone else on your side, to be as emotional as you felt, maybe even more so, so that you might feel a bit more normal. It was very decent of him, and she was not sure he realised he did it.

ron’s inherent emotional awareness is an enormous source of comfort to other people. he does the work which isn’t flashy or special - he makes tea and tells jokes and is just there - but which is needed in healthy human relationships far more frequently than a willingness to fight to the death for the other person.

[as an aside, this normality - even though i think it is assumed rather than justified by the text - is also what ginny provides for harry. if you believe that hinny are a good couple but romione aren’t… i can’t help you.]

but let’s look at some specific reasons why ron and hermione belong together:

their communication styles mesh perfectly. ron is the only person hermione knows who feeds her love of being challenged and debated, and who is able to engage in this way of communicating without becoming irate when she refuses to back down. ron is good at picking his battles, but he’s also good at recognising that hermione’s tendency to argue isn’t intended to be confrontational a lot of the time - it’s just the way she works through feelings and problems. he’s far more easy-going about her tendency to nag, interrupt, try to provoke arguments, or speak condescendingly than he’s given credit for - and hermione evidently respects this, since when he does tell her not to push a situation (above all, when she’s trying to needle harry into talking about sirius), she listens to him.

that ron and hermione’s tendency to bicker is taken by fans to be a bad thing is because it’s something harry - from whose perspective the narrative is written - doesn’t understand. harry is extremely conflict-avoidant - he tends to take being pushed on views and opinions he has to be insulting; and he has a tendency to assume that he is right which is just as profound as hermione’s. he and ginny communicate not by debating, but by ginny having no time for his rigidity and refusing to indulge it - but ron and hermione bickering about everything is not a negative thing within their specific emotional dynamic.

[as another aside, this glaring chasm in communication styles is why harry and hermione would be a disaster as a couple.]

they each provide validation the other needs. it’s clear - reading between the lines - that hermione is a tremendously lonely person. the friendlessness of her initial few weeks at hogwarts seems to be a continuation of her experience as a child, and - outside of ron and harry - that friendlessness endures through her schooldays. i’m always struck, for example, by the fact that, when she falls out with ron in prisoner of azkaban, she has no-one else to spend time with, and that this is only avoided in half-blood prince because harry decides not to freeze her out. i don’t think her friendship with ginny is anywhere near as close as fanon seems to imply (ginny has no interest in being nagged either), nor do i think that she’s anywhere near as close to neville (not least because she is so condescending to him) as she’s often written to be.

and this loneliness seems to stretch beyond hogwarts. the absence of hermione’s parents’ from the narrative is - in a doylist sense - clearly just a device to maximise time with the trio all together, but the watsonian reading is that she doesn’t have a particularly good relationship with them. hermione’s obviously upper-middle-class background - the name! the skiing! the holidays in the south of france! - can be presumed, i think, to come with a series of expectations from her parents which she feels constantly that she’s not entirely meeting, particularly expectations attached to academic success.

[for example, the grangers - were she a muggle child - would undoubtedly have ambitions for her to attend an elite university and then go into a prestigious career. tertiary education of the type that they’re familiar with doesn’t seem to exist in the wizarding world - most careers seem to be taught by apprenticeship - and this, alongside all the other divides between the magical and muggle worlds which contribute to the distance between them, would be one very obvious area in which she felt the need to prove herself to them.]

ron, too, has quite a difficult relationship with his position in the family - voldemort’s locket is not wrong to point out that he seems to receive considerably less of his mother’s emotional attention than ginny or the rest of his brothers - and he too is constrained by expectations which he doesn’t know how to explain he has no interest in - above all, molly’s desire for her sons to achieve top grades and go into the ministry.

he also suffers while at hogwarts from being ‘harry potter’s best friend’, something which harry never appreciates. but hermione does. she recognises ron’s jealousy and never allows harry to minimise it (and she and ron are very much aligned on having no respect for harry’s saviour and martyr complexes). she appreciates ron’s strengths - above all his kindness and his sense of humour - and makes him feel as though he’s achieved things with them. and ron does the same for her; he is hugely observant when it comes to her, and he challenges and defends her.

the two of them clearly spend a lot of time together one-on-one while harry’s involved in his various shenanigans (including outside of school - hermione has often arrived at the burrow days or even weeks before harry, and they seem to write to each other frequently when apart). they do this within a relationship which is fundamentally equal. one issue with hinny is that, post-war, harry is going to have to get used to seeing ginny as a peer, rather than as someone he has to protect. but ron and hermione never have that issue - equality is baked into their relationship from the off.

because, to be quite frank, fandom overstates the role that jealousy plays in their relationship. it’s true that ron certainly doesn’t acquit himself brilliantly when it comes to hermione’s relationship with viktor krum (it’s because he’s bi and doesn’t know it yet), and a tendency to externalise his insecurity into trying to make others also feel insecure is one of his primary negative traits (hermione does this too, via her patented lofty voice when she’s trying to condescend to people). but this is often taken as the initial red flag for how the relationship would crash and burn, and ron’s toxic jealousy is often used in fan-fiction as the trigger for emotional and physical violence towards hermione which, frequently, seems to drive her into the arms of either draco malfoy or severus snape… who are, of course, the first people we think of when we hear the words ‘not prone to jealousy’...

but i think it’s important to point out several things in defence of ron’s jealousy over krum. firstly, hermione evidently regards his jealousy as ridiculous - she’s upset by it, yes, but her upset must be understood as being caused by the fact that she wanted him to ask her out. she doesn’t think he’s being possessive, she thinks he’s being stupid. secondly, hermione is equally as jealous over ron’s crush on fleur delacour and relationship with lavender brown. she behaves just as cruelly when it comes to lavender as ron does when it comes to krum - and the narrative only treats her actions as more sympathetic or justified both because harry dislikes lavender too, and because, by that point in the series, jkr has dispensed with any inclination to ever criticise her.

but, outside of this teenage pettiness, ron is never jealous of hermione over things which matter. he is never jealous of her intelligence or competence or ambition or success (indeed, he defends her constantly from attacks designed to undermine her in these areas). for someone who struggles with being overshadowed by harry, he is never upset at being overshadowed by her. he is clearly going to be happy to support her in any of the career ambitions she can be written as having post-war.

and, on this point, i think it’s worth interrogating why so many readers still seem to feel uncomfortable with the idea of ron and hermione having a dynamic where she is the more ‘powerful’ one. [it’s always a bit trite to say ‘but what if the genders were reversed?’, but actually that’s not irrelevant here]. if hermione ends up taking the ministry by storm and ron becomes a stay-at-home father or has a job which is just to pay the bills, what, precisely, is wrong with that? why, precisely, should hermione regard ron making that choice for himself as a negative thing? hermione so often seems to leave ron in fan-fiction because of a lack of ambition - something which seems to be particularly common in dramione - but, in canon, she is shown to not particularly care if ron and harry do the bare minimum when it comes to studying etc. she nags them to do their work so they don’t get in trouble. she doesn’t nag them to do it to the same standard that she would.

and, actually, i think that ron being less ambitious than hermione is something which is key to how well they work. because ron provides not only emotional support, but emotional clarity.

hermione is shown throughout canon to - just as harry does - have a tendency to become obsessive to the detriment of her own health. she is also often - as harry is - emotionally or intellectually inflexible, and finds it hard to move on when what she feels or believes is proven to be wrong. both she and harry are micro-thinkers, who lean towards knee-jerk assumptions and stubborn convictions (and, indeed, hermione has a remarkably hagrid-ish tendency towards blind loyalty).

ron is none of these things. ron is a big-picture thinker (it’s why he’s so good at chess). he’s a pragmatist. he’s the least righteous of the three. he understands that faith and loyalty are choices, and that sometimes these choices will lead to outcomes which are bad or hard. he is the one of the three most willing to own up to having made mistakes. he is the one least likely to act on gut instinct (and, therefore, the hardest to fool - i think it’s worth emphasising that he clocks that tom riddle is tricking harry immediately, the only one of the trio to do so). he understands that things are a marathon, not a sprint. he is the least obsessive.

and these traits contribute to aspects of his character which are underappreciated. ron worries about hermione making herself ill during exams, or when she is using the time-turner, and makes an effort to get her to set healthy boundaries and redirect her anxiety. ron stands on a broken leg in front of sirius or goes into the forest to fight aragog not out of righteousness, but out of choice. ron takes over the burden of preparing buckbeak’s defence when it is clear that hermione is approaching burnout. ron is completely right that harry hasn’t done any long-term planning for the horcrux hunt, and his anger does force harry to tighten up after he leaves the trio. ron has a clear head in the middle of battle. ron makes harry and hermione laugh. ron is unafraid of human emotion. ron arrests harry’s tendency to brood over the little things by looking at the bigger picture. ron will always come back.

ron is bringing his politician wife regular cups of tea and making sure she doesn’t work all night. he is helping his lawyer wife to feel less upset over losing one case by reminding her that she’s won ten others. he is noticing stress creeping in and whirling her off for a dirty weekend, or even just a takeaway on the sofa. he is teaching his daughter to be proud of her ambition and his son to treat women as equals and both of his children that all you can do when you fuck up is apologise and try to do better. he is making hermione smile on the worst days of her life. he is helping her strategise her long-term goals when she gets stuck on the short-term ones. he is telling her straight when she needs to get it together. he is seeing a misogynistic head of department call hermione a ‘silly little girl’ and choosing to tell him exactly what he thinks of that.

ron is the ultimate wife guy. hermione is a very, very lucky lady.

[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

[hosseinis]

Strahm wails angrily, moving his feet up until his boots are scrabbling at the wall facing him, but it’s no use. There’s nothing to save him, no way to survive this. He’d made his choice, had refused to trust Mark with his life. Now that very life is about to be snuffed out, about to vanish along with all the others, and all Mark will do is watch. There’s nothing else for it. Just another mistake. Just another failure. He’s not sure where to go after this.

And then, quite abruptly, the walls grind to a halt.

Strahm lets out a sob, but he’s still alive, and Mark stares up at him. Strahm’s wedged there, his legs the only thing really holding him in place. His back is shoved hard against the one wall behind him, and he looks a little like he’s just a second or two away from either folding in half or simply snapping into two separate pieces. Even from down below, Mark can see the way he shakes, the way he cries, the way he curses and snarls and spits like a rabid animal in a cage.

“Ah, shit,” Mark says.

Mark had never planned for Strahm to survive if he didn't get into the glass coffin. It'd never even crossed his mind that he could, so when the hydraulic systems fail... well, he doesn't really know what the fuck to do about that.

Now he has a very injured, very pissed off FBI agent on his hands that he may or may not have framed for murder. But maybe Mark can still try to make Strahm understand just what it is he'd been trying to tell him in the first place.

(or, mark and peter go on a road trip to get peter's arm taken care of, and learn things about each other along the way.)

[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.

[pogueswrld]

*•.¸♡ make up sex ♡¸.•*

pairing: fred weasley x fem!plus-sized!reader

summary: Freddie talks too much, and his girlfriend is exhausting all the ways she knows to shut him up. Softly, of course.

warnings: smut🦢!1!1!1!1! there's plot and fluff, and everyone's of age ofc, although it is hinted that reader is still in Hogwarts, kinda sub!Fred top!reader, like he's whining and panting and begging and shit (bites lip) ANYWAY, dick riding hehe, no usage of y/n.

note: it is 2:59 pm on a Friday, let's see how fast I write this shit. note 0.2: Okay so it's 5:54 pm on the same day, I think I'm done. This isn't edited, but it took me 3 hours to write 😁

He was still talking. Why, in the name of Merlin, was he still talking?

Dating Fed Weasley is fun, there's no denying that, but Good Heavens isn't that a boy a handful. Both literary and figurative. He's got a wide imagination, a never-squelching desire for knowledge, and a big heart. That is a dangerous combination for a somewhat intelligent and never-quiet man.

She's a saint, his girlfriend, and Ginny made a point to always express that to her. "How do you put up with that all the time?" Gesturing to Fred, who was using his hands in elaborate motions as he went on his fourth rant of the morning on the same subject to George. She'd only shrug, lips engulfing another spoonful of whatever ice cream the girls were sharing. "In one ear and out the other darling."

Not to say that she hates it, or that it bothers her- quite the opposite actually. Fred's excited and hyper personality is what made him so interesting to her, it was what drew her to him in the first place. She enjoys listening to him rant, even about the most random things -he stopped her the other day and explained in great detail how penguins mate and how once the female accepts the male's proposing gestures, they're together for life- and she adores it.

Yes, it sure can be a bit much at times, but she wouldn't change it for the world. Imagine loving a man who was as boring and dry as his older brother, Percy? She would have to jump out of Ginny's bedroom window!

Today was her first day back in the Burrow from Hogwarts for summer break, and she was exhausted, to say the least. She was up from dawn, finishing up the last bits of her packing before leaving for the train station with Harry, Hermione, and Ron. And because she's a good friend, she made sure each of her friends made it to their transportation safely before she and Ron were picked up by Fred and George.

In the car, Ron opened the untameable can of worms by mentioning Bill who was staying over at the Burrow for the summer as well, taking a couple of months' worth of vacation away from the dragons and such. That was the spark Fred needed to blast off into a hundred rants one after the other.

He spoke about seeing Bill again, which is understandable, he hasn't been home in years. He spoke about the dragons, which led to his excited mention of his favorites and how he's going to ask Bill how it was training them. Then he turned to Quidditch training, and even though both him and George had left Hogwarts a year or so ago, the both of them still found time to play the game as a side hobby. After that was all done, George gave her and Ron and update on the shop, and Fred went on and on about all kinds of new candies and flavors and combinations they were working on to add to the store by the beginning of next year.

She was understandably tired by the time the Burrow came into view. And as much as she adores her boyfriend, she needed him to shut the fuck up for twenty minutes. But he's so sweet, and his eyes light up when talking, and he gets this beautiful energy surrounding him when he does it that she doesn't have the nerve to ask him to be silent for a bit. So she excuses herself and tries to bury her body under the covers of his bed.

But he finds her there, and he reports to her that dinner is ready, and that Bill is here, and that she looks so gorgeous on his bed, and that there's a strange animal in the backyard, and that Ginny tried to curse the bathroom when he went in to use it, and that he doesn't understand why she'd do that, and that George is out in the garage, and that-

She jolts up on his bed, her eyes twitching as she stares at him. He looks so beautiful, but he's talking too damn much. She cups his face, and he goes silent and stares at her with wide eyes.

"Wha'?" He mumbled, his lips squished together as she squeezed his cheeks.

"You talk too much, ya' know that?" She said, her thumb slightly caressing the apples of his cheeks.

He opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water, and tilts his head ever so slightly. "Do' it bothe' yo'?"

She giggles breathlessly and lets go of his face before pressing her lips tightly against his. "Not all the time, but times like today..." She rests her forehead against his and sighs, "It can be a lot, and I need you to read the room and tone it down a little bit, d'ya think you can do that for me?"

He stares, something in his gaze changes, and he nods. "Of course, baby. Whateva' you want."

Great. Now she feels bad. She sighs and pushes past the blankets swallowing her to sit up on her knees. She wraps her arms around his shoulders and pulls him into a hug. "I love you, truly love you, and I don't mean to be mean to you, and you know I love it when you ramble, but I'm really overwhelmed today, darling. I'm sorry."

Fred wraps his arms around her waist in return, hugging her tightly. It's true that he can't always read the room, and now that he's no longer attending school he's got much more free time on his hands than he knows what to do with. It takes him a couple days to be able to read his girlfriend's body language like he used to once she's home from school, and he feels terrible that he was one of the reasons for making her feel so incredibly overwhelmed. He also feels slightly ashamed of his non-stop rambling all day.

He buried his face in the crook of her neck, mumbling something into her skin that made her shiver and giggle away from him. "Stop," she breathes in a giggle, "It tickles."

He chuckles, his hands squeezing at the skin of her waist as he stares at her dreamily. "I said, I'm sorry I made you feel overwhelmed, I promise to try and do better."

She grins at him, so brilliantly, that he can't help but lean down and capture her lips in a soaring kiss. "I love you." He mumbles against her lips, and she smiles while trying to kiss him back. "C'mon now, love, let's go have dinner."

Her eyes darken; her pupils widen, and she smiles that mischievous grin that he adores so much, and he groans while throwing his head back. He knows exactly what is on her mind.

"I have a better idea." She whispers, giggling as she throws herself into his lap and kisses him with such force that she's pushing him down on his bed. He yelps, his hands traveling to the bed and her waist, holding on to her for stability. Bubbling heat travels across his body through her kiss, and he sighs when her cold fingertips trace down his arms, sending goosebumps across his body.

Her kisses transfer from his lips to the sides of his mouth, his cheeks, down his jawline, until she's pampering open-mouthed kisses across his neck like stardust.

He sighs, his eyes closed and his head thrown back on the pillow. "Please," He breathed, a low whine undertoning his voice. She shivers above him, her teeth grazing his skin in a teasing bite.

She's always hated the effect his voice has on her.

"Please what, darling?"

He whines. It's low, for her ears only, it's a barely-there breath, but his mouth is right next to her ear and she hears him loud and clear. Her panties dampen almost immediately.

"Please touch me," He whispers. His hands gripped tightly to her thighs. He knows better than to roam her body without permission. She pulls back slightly, blinking up at him with a soft smile and long lashes. "But I am touching you, Freddie."

He knows this game. This cruel, cruel game she adores to play. He whines in pretentious of hating his role, but his hips buck, and his cock twitches underneath the fabrics of his boxers and trousers.

He slowly traces one of his hands from her thighs to her palm before letting her fingers rest on his aching cock. He guides her hands to gently rub him through his clothes and he lets out a breath when her fingers squeeze around him. "Touch me there." He gasps.

She entertains him, allowing him to set the pace and buck into her hold. He releases deep breaths and low whines, stuttering moans every time she tightens her grip around him. She can feel herself getting wetter by the second, how his eyes are shut desperately, his teeth bite down on his bottom lip, and her name is gasped out of his throat with every other movement. It makes her feel powerful, it makes her entire being vibrate.

"That's enough." She mumbles, pulling her hand out of his grasp and bathing in his complaining whines as she pulls off her shirt. He blinks up at her, watching her boobs bounce in the push-up bra she's wearing before she unhooks it and slides it off her shoulders. He blinks again and swallows whatever drool and saliva has gathered in his mouth, causing his Adam's apple to pop along with the action. She smiles at the sight and quickly bends down to leave a swift kiss on it.

"Take off your shirt." She commands him, and he does so without hesitation, throwing the garment somewhere on the floor of the room he shares with his twin brother. He watches her hands intensely as she teases him by running her thumb on the inside of her trouser's elastic, before slowly pulling the item down and off. He groans at the sight of his favorite panties on her; a partially lacey red thong that settles up between her butt cheeks. She always told him how uncomfortable it made her, but the look on his face when he saw it on her made every second she spent wearing it worth it.

"You're trying to kill me, love?" He groans, daring himself to take a dangerous leap and push his thumb against the damp cloth, pushing down on where he knows her clit hides. He glances up at her, watching the way her lips part and her mouth hangs open at his action.

"And what am I to tell George when he asks? Death by a red thong?"

He grins up at her, picking up the speed at which he's rubbing on her bud of nerves. "Only if you're the one wearing it."

She shudders, forcefully holding herself back from grinding against his thumb. Instead, she grips his wrist and pushes it away from her. She hooks two fingers on each side of his trousers and boxers before meeting his eyes, watching as he licks his lips and nods before pulling the clothing items down his hips and legs.

His cock bounces out from underneath the fabric happily, it smacks against his lower abdomen and she giggles at the sight of precum beads rolling down his slit. He whines, throwing his arm on his face to cover the embarrassing blush that matched his hair color. "Don't laugh at me, why're you so mean to me today?"

Her giggle grows louder, and she leans down to push his arm off his face. "I never intend on being mean to you, my darling, you just bring it out of me. I'm sorry." She mumbles as she meets his gaze, her hand cupping one side of his face and he leans towards her touch. "Don't hide from me, yeah?"

He nods.

"Good boy."

He whines, his eyes squeeze shut and his jaw drops when her fingers wrap around him again, but her thumb is collecting his precum before spreading it down his length before she works a steady rhythm going up and down. His whines slowly turn into moans. His noises were so heavenly that she could swear her wetness was flowing through the fabric of her thong and onto the skin of her thighs.

She sees his muscles contracting and she stops, removing her hand from him altogether. He opens his eyes, blinking up at her in confusion as a noise of complaint slips out of his throat. But he swallows it back up when he sees her push her thong to the side and spread her folds before sitting on his length, and she grinds back and forth on him without actually allowing him access to her.

He groans, throwing his head back. She's coating him in her juices and there's a delicious squelching noise coming from between them and it's driving him insane. He sucks air into his lungs through clenched teeth and shudders when she allows a single moan to slip through her parted lips.

Suddenly, he's engulfed in her warmth and he hisses. His hands grip tightly to her thighs, hips, and any plump skin he can find. He squeezes her, hissing, and pants until he's sheathed completely inside of her. "Slow down," He gasps, "Slow- slow down, slow down, slow down." His voice turns from low breaths to almost high-pitched whines, and she leans down and captures his lips in a silencing kiss.

"Need you to lay here and keep your pretty mouth shut, darling, can you do that? Can you stay quiet for me so your family doesn't hear us fucking?" He whines, hips bucking into her warm cunt causing his eyes to roll to the back of his head as he nods mindlessly. "Yes, yes, yes. I'll be quiet. Fuck- please, baby, please fuck me."

She giggles at his desperate whines, and slowly rocks her hips back and forth, just enough movement to send pleasure jolts but not enough to get them going. She was testing the waters, trying to see how loud he could get without giving him much of anything.

Fred was losing his mind, he could feel her walls clamp down on him every time she moved back, and he could feel himself nudging against her feel-good spot every time she moved forward. Her wetness made a mess out of both of them, making it easy to slide into her and pick up the pace.

He arched his back slightly, just enough to hint at her to go faster. Because she was starting to feel frustrated, she obliged. She switched from grinding down on him to bouncing, her knees and hips working overtime to not make a noise every time her ass cheeks met his thighs.

She's now moaning, leaning down to muffle her noises by his neck or breathe them directly into his ear. Fred's eyes roll to the back of his head every time, and his hands grab onto the fat of her hips to help her.

"I-" She gasps, pushing herself upwards, clamping down on him tightly before forcing deep thrusts with her movement. "I'm gonna cum." She whimpers, and her legs begin to shake and fail her. Fred let out a loud breath that turned into a whimper before pushing himself up and, with a tight hold of her hips, forced her up and down his cock.

"Wa- wanna feel you. Wanna feel you gush around me. Give it to me, please." He whines, his words muffled into her temple, his eyes closed as her walls flutter around him, her body shivering against him and her lips part in long whines. One of his hands sneaked in between them, and his thumb drew quick circles around her clit, just enough to electrify her over the edge.

She freezes up, squeezes down on him and Fred is gone. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tightly down on him, the repeated squeeze of her walls stimulated him over the edge and they were shaking through their highs together. Her hands were buried in his hair, his hands holding onto her hips, while their lips interlocked in an overflowing kiss.

A few seconds later, their mouths parted as they gasped for air, holding onto one another as their highs dwindled. He traced random shapes on her bare back while she scratched at his scalp in a way she knew he loved.

He was the first to pull back, looking up at her with nothing but love and adoration. He tilts his head and grins, "Do you still want to go down for dinner?"

She laughs, heartily and loudly out of his arms and back onto the bed. "If you'll be going downstairs for a plate, get me one with you. There's no way I can look your mum in the eye after this."

[thegirlwhowrites642]

Could you recommend us some of your favorite hinny fics? Love your work btw!

Thank you <3

I would tell you to look at my bookmarks on Ao3 but I'll give you some highlights (I'll keep wips out of this because I never know how to feel about recommending unfinished work):

Gone was any trace of you -- I'm pretty sure I've read this something like a billion times, I can quote it word by word

Come stay for the summer -- this is always such a light fun work to re-read, I'm a big fan of muggle hinny, I really have a soft spot for it

Altered -- the obsession I have for this one-shot, this to me is hinny in its purest form

A Weasley reunion -- some hardcore pining from Harry, and fake dating, what do you want more from life?

Time -- Harry realising he wants children, with Ginny. The specific way in which the realisation is written is something I adore

Summer rain -- this is great, what else there is to say really, it's just great

Sacred new beginnings -- I love how this somehow manages to be a retelling of sixth year despite being a muggle AU with young adults hinny

Orchards -- the author definitely has a higher opinion of the "golden trio" than I have but the way she writes dialogues between Harry and Ginny is perfect, she also does a thing I love which is to make Ginny actually funny. It's one of her main personality traits and yet it's forgotten so often, I think it happens due to some sort of unconscious bias about women not being funny (not native English speakers writers are forgiven though because being funny in a foreign language can be quite hard)

After the leaves have fallen -- this talks about what I call Harry and Ginny's never-ending argument and it's written so beautifully

Everything I am is yours -- I just noticed that on ao3 it's signed as the first chapter of two but it definitely can stand on its own and is a very well done muggle retelling of Harry and Ginny's story

take what I took and give it back to you -- a beautifully written soulmates marks au that doesn't really change Harry and Ginny's story but, as one of the comments says, seems to bring up an existing implied element of the canon one

Already here -- because Hannah's stories that I love the most (they are all great though) are wips, I'll put this one in the hopes that one day she'll decide to turn it into a multi-chapter story (@takearisk-ao3 think about it 👀)

The brilliant dance -- this is so fucking funny and entertaining while also being heartwarming. Fucked up but inevitable/obsessed with each other hinny spending their early 20s being a hot mess is my AU drug

Someone else's life -- finished reading this a few days ago, a very well developed brilliant idea

[I already know the second I post this I'll realise I've forgotten some brilliant work]

[corneliaavenue-ao3]

helloooo who are your favourite hinny fanfiction authors? I’m trying to get back on the scene as it were

If you love WIP's @takeariskao3 is the author for you!!!! You should read Amnesia!Ginny fic, Already Gone, or second chance romance, read, The Path From You.

@brightlybound has some BANGERS

@starlingflight is also a brilliant writer and deserves so much love right now! My favorites are Falling All In You, the time before the kiss and Everything I Wanted, the time after the kiss

@fizzyginfizz for the funniest fics you will find. Please read Quidditch is For Losers and Hufflepup

@ginnyw-potter just does not stop writing???? So many fun AU multichapter fics. It is incredible

@seriouslysam8 has just created her own world within Harry Potter. It is truly incredible how much content she creates in this world. Start with Brumous!

@displayheartcode is putting out fic after fic of genderswap!Hinny

@honeydukesheroine is writing one of the best 6th year fics of all time right now: The In Betweens

@greenhousethree writes the prettiest things.

@annerbhp is not posting any new Hinny right now, but I need to make sure you read The Changeling and The Armistice Series. If you have not, ignore all of the above and read this.

And me. You should read some of what I have wrote in the hinny fandom <3 You should also check out my bookmarks for further recommendations! (the bookmark link is just my hinny tagged fics filtered!)

[iamnmbr3]

I find your analysis' really fun and I love how JKR, unintentionally created a narrative where drarry somehow has more chemistry than ginny who's literally forgotten in the 3rd, 4th books???? Like mam, if you want to build a romance then make them have actual conversations? I, myself like ginny and like the concept of hinny but the way JKR sucked at writing them infuriated me.

But anyhow, I also love drarry, though as much as I like and agree with your assessment; there is something I'll have to disagree with, and that is I don't harry found draco attractive. Because the thing with Harry is; no matter who that person is, my guy is really honest with how he views that person. Each time as he saw Riddle grow, my guy was like; hot damn. Also Cedric. Sirius. Bro literally calls regulus "not as hot as Sirius" so we are know Harry has never once found draco attractive. As for the gleaming eyes, pointy chin; well I also like giving my characters good description so people would understand what to imagine; I'm not making everyone simp on about everyone. promise!!!!!!

( I just like them falling in love after the war, and Idrc if they found each other good looking or not, I just don't like how people just take basic description of a character and says oh he describes how he looks, he must like him!!!!! No guys, he is just saying bro has a pointy chin and his eyes glows because he probably is gonna do something!!!!!)

I just wanted to get this out and I am not really active on Tumblr, and don't like posting. This is just me wanting to discuss this one hc😞 but I hope u have a good day and I adore ur hcs and analysis.❤️

Thank you! And yeah I feel like JKR really did Ginny dirty with the way hinny happened. I like book 5 Ginny so much more than book 6 and 7 Ginny. She deserved so much better than to be reduced to a love interest who is "Harry's perfect girl" to use JKR's phrase rather than someone who got to be her own fully realized character with a distinct personality and interests (as she was in book 5 before JKR overdid it trying to make her the ideal Love Interest TM). I think it would've been cool if she ended up with Neville since they bonded during their year at Hogwarts in book 7 and fought side by side and mutually respected each other as equals.

It just says it all that after the Battle of Hogwarts Harry doesn't have a single interaction with her. He immediately wants to spend time with Ron and Hermione because he feels a deep bond with them but just vaguely thinks that there will be time to talk with Ginny later. He isn't even sitting by her at the table because it's Luna who is next to him and offers to create a distraction so he can leave.

As for Harry's descriptions of Draco, I'm going to push back on that although of course everyone is perfectly entitled to their own interpretations. The thing is, Harry is extremely judgmental about people's looks and insults the appearances of all the other Slytherins. A lot. But he NEVER does that with Draco. Ron does. Ron insults Draco's looks all the time. But Harry never goes along with it or agrees and his internal monologue and descriptions of Draco are notably lacking the insults he directs at almost every other member of Draco's House as well as other people he dislikes.

But that's not because he isn't looking. Because he is. A LOT. He doesn't just describe Draco's looks. He dwells on them. Repeatedly. We know SO much about how Draco looks because Harry CONSTANTLY notices and mentions it in his internal monologue. Draco's grey eyes are mentioned repeatedly in every book. As is his sleek blond hair. Harry doesn't even mention Ron's eye color once till book 7, but we get multiple descriptions of Draco's eyes down to the exact shade - specifically pale grey. And same for his hair - along with observations about how it gleams in the sunlight. Even when Harry's in danger he takes a second to check out how Draco's looking. And that is at odds with how he describes other characters.

He never calls Ginny pretty or beautiful either but he does seem to have at least some level of physical attraction to her and often describes her hair...and that's pretty much it. Yeah I'm pretty sure that relationship fizzles once the peace happens. (I've read very compelling metas on Harry being gay and I think there's a lot there though personally I do still read him as bi but with a strong preference for men).

Draco is someone that Harry would not get together with till after the war. And I don't think he wants to acknowledge, even to himself, that he is attracted to him. But he sure spends a lot of time repeatedly noticing and describing and thinking about Draco's appearance in a way he doesn't with other characters. Something is making him look. And I think that something is attraction.

Now obviously this was completely not JKR's intent. The problem is that she wrote the story from Harry's POV not from the POV of an omniscient third person narrator. So while she didn't mean to make Harry constantly notice all the cute guys and obsess over Draco's looks for 7 books that is accidentally what she did.