#ginny st george

[daysinstarlight]

I originally thought the Buccaneers was going to be fluffier and more playful with the genre than Bridgerton but these male characters are soooo cruel and know exactly how much they can get away with.

Anyway, it just seems so much darker to start out with the girls so carefree and happy and then showing us how the men (and their society) is going to break them.

[ktb90s]

I need an announcement for season 2 of the Buccaneers because that finale took my breath away.

Apple, don't play with me.

Seeing their friendship and sisterhood be mended was the best form of love for me in the show. They are family. "We always come first."

[ladzwriting]

My 2022 in Reading: Jo Needs a Nap

My 2022 in Reading: Jo Needs a Nap

[magicbystarlight]

Before I Knew You - Part Eleven

Bill Weasley x Reader

Masterlist, Part One

Summary: You’ve spent years training under Madam Pomfrey in the hopes that you would join the Healers at St. Mungo’s at graduation. But in the aftermath of the death of Albus Dumbledore, you chose to join the Order instead. When you’re forced into hiding, you find yourself alone with Bill Weasley and his new wolfish tendencies.

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: 18+, typical canon warnings, smut, age gap, oral sex (fem recieving), delayed orgasm, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, rough sex, cum eating (kinda?), allusions to knotting, angst. Minors DNI.

A/N: This would not have been written without you, Lovely 💛

There was a lot of arguing. The younger siblings demanded answers. Their parents tried to give none. Bill countered that they should know. That it was in everyone’s best interest to be prepared in case they too were interrogated. Fred suggested moving you. He flinched at the growling disagreement from Bill. Molly tried to argue he may be right, but George said Yaxley could be hoping for that. Fear causes people to make mistakes, he argued. 

“What exactly did he ask?” The table fell silent, looking towards you. But you were only looking at Arthur.

“Much the same as his father had asked at the wedding. Why you’d been there, where you’d been before, where you went after. He asked that if I heard anything about or from you, to tell him. Only him. And if I saw you," he looked at Bill who nodded for him to continue, "to tell you that he has someplace safe.”

The table erupted again with words like delusion and trap thrown around. 

"He's going to the twins next." The commotion died once more, all eyes on you.

"How do you know?"

"Because I know Cillian." No. That wasn't right. The Cillian you knew wasn't a murderer. "At least, I know he was jealous of them back in school. Thought one of them had a thing for me." You'd nearly forgotten that. You looked between Fred and George. "He'll be more aggressive with you because of it."

Fred winked. "Don't worry 'bout us, love—

—we can handle him," George finished.

Bill's fist slammed on the table, making Ginny flinch. "This isn't a fucking joke!"

"But they need to act like it is," you countered. You kept your eyes on the twins. They needed to be prepared. They needed to know. "You've got to be as combative with him as he will be with you. Make it clear you have no intention to cooperate with him. If you act any differently it'll look suspicious to him."

Molly tapped her wand against the table, all the dishes lifting from the table. They flew to the kitchen, scraping themselves into the trash before settling into the sink. She followed them, waving her wand. Water and soap filled the sink. You’d forgotten magic could be used for something as mundane as dishes.

“That’s good to know,” George said, trying to ignore the uncertainty that had settled over the table with Molly’s abrupt end to dinner. Half the plates still had food.

“What if he brings his father?” Ginny asked.

“He won’t. Cillian has to be going behind his back trying to find me. Corbin wants me dead.”

Plates clattered in the kitchen. The Weasleys shared looks with each other.

Molly stood clutching the counter, staring out the window. "We should have all gone into hiding when we had a chance." Arthur came to her side and she allowed herself to be brought into his arms, burying her face in his chest. It hurt to see.

Ginny’s final day had been ruined. At least she’d be safe from Cillian’s questioning at Hogwarts. It would be too risky for him to go there. Even with Fred and George he’d have to be careful. Eyes would be everywhere in Diagon Alley with someone reporting back to someone who could report back to his father of his activities. That was if he wasn’t already being followed.

They left shortly after. Molly’s hug was a bit tighter than comfortable when she promised everything would be alright. Fred said he’d stop by again soon. Ginny said nothing, but squeezed your hand with watery eyes. You didn’t go outside to see them off, but as you looked at the clean kitchen you wish you had. There was nothing there to keep your hands busy. Magic had cleaned the dishes and put them in their place. It had wiped the counters. Swept the floors. Even the chairs had been pushed in. 

One pop. Then another. And then the door, steps, a hand on your shoulder. "I'm sorry. I should have told you earlier."

"Ginny got to enjoy most of her day. I wouldn't have been much fun if you'd told me before.” His hand fell off as you shrugged. “Besides, it’s better that they all know. So they’re prepared.”

“You really think he’s gonna go after them?”

“Cillian was jealous a lot.” Another thing you’d nearly forgotten. “I’ll be surprised if he doesn’t try to track down every guy that’s ever spoken to me.” Not the women though. He didn’t think Cho had counted. You turned and rested your head against his chest, his embrace welcome. The tension eased in your body.

“It’ll be okay,” he promises, “they’ll be okay.”

—

Bill left early the next morning to see Ginny off, reluctantly leaving you in bed with a kiss and a promise to not to be gone long. You stayed in bed for a bit, but sleep never returned. 

The sun rose higher in the sky as you worked out in the garden. Molly had brought the wolfsbane stored in the Burrow’s shed, miscellaneous potion ingredients that had been collected from various Order members, and any seeds she could spare the day before. Professor Sprout’s lectures echoed through your mind as you planted new seeds and replanted old plants into neat lines. You’d have to figure out how to build a greenhouse for some of the more difficult plants. There was plenty of sand to make glass.

When all that could be done in the small garden was done, it was still a quarter till ten. How you missed the hours it would take on the farm.

Your hair was your next task. That would take time. Washing, brushing, using your favorite hair potion Ginny had been thoughtful enough to bring. You considered styling it without the aid of magic to pass the time, but decided against it.

As your hair righted itself, your thoughts drifted back to the wolfsbane. Maybe if you could get in contact with Charlie, he could get some dragon blood. And maybe Hagrid could get some Occamy eggs. The rest would be easy enough to get your hands on. Then you could finally get a real attempt at the Wolfsbane Potion for Remus. 

Until then, you had other things you needed to start working on. Potions and salves to make now that you had the ingredients. 

That was how Bill found you a while later. Bent over a cauldron on the stove, hair covered to protect it from the steam of the Murtlap Essence. “Mum made treacle tart,” he said, sliding a pastry box on the counter. “And brownies.” Another box. “And some biscuits.” A third box. “She bakes a lot when she’s worried. I don’t think she slept at all.”

Your shoulders deflated. She’d have been worried anyway, with Ginny off to Hogwarts, but with the threat of Cillian hanging over her sons it must be so much worse.

“She wanted to know if she can drop by a couple times a week while I’m at work.”

“Why?”

“She wants to make sure you're doing alright. Thinks you have to be lonely here. She won’t say it, but she’s gonna be lonely too now that Ginny’s gone.” His arm slid around your waist. “I told Fred and George they should come by sometimes too.”

Your gaze snapped to his face, surprised. “Why?”

“Because you need a life outside of me. And I know my family isn’t really that, but I’ll see if I can get the other Order members to come by. Get them checked up and all that.”

“Do you really think that’s the greatest idea? You could barely stand having Kingsley here. Thought you were gonna tear Fred’s head off yesterday.”

“I’ll still get you to myself at night, right?”

“Yeah but,” you tried to explain, “are you sure you’re up for that? If it could make your symptoms worse, especially with the full moon coming, then mayb—“

His kiss cut you off.

“Like I said,” he breathed against your lips, “I’ll have you to myself at night. That’s enough.”

“But everything with Cillian, is it really safe?”

“It’s safer, I think, than you being here alone all the time. And we’ll come up with a plan in case something goes wrong. Practice some defensive spells, figure out a place to go.”

You kissed him softly. “Thank you.” 

“Oh don’t thank me,” he said, his teasing tone setting in, “it’s about time you started pulling your weight. Can’t have you lounge on the beach all day in some provocative little swimsuit, can we?”

You scoffed. “It was not provocative!”

“Have to disagree with you there, love.” His nose brushed against your cheek. “Everything you wear is provocative.”

“Guess I’ll stop wearing anything then.”

His groan had you smiling. “Please tell me you’re nearly done,” he begged.

“It’s gotta simmer for another couple hours,” he groaned again, “but it’ll be fine on its own fo—OH! Bill!”

It seemed he was determined to make it a habit of throwing you over his shoulder. Only this time he bypassed the couch and kicked the door to the bedroom open. You bounced against the mattress, giggling as you removed the hair covering. He was eager, giddy even, as he pulled off his clothes. He crawled up the bed, smiling into a messy kiss before helping to remove your own. 

His lips trailed down your neck. Teeth and tongue teased your collarbone. Your fingers tangled in his hair as his mouth found your breasts. A soft moan slipped out. He alternated between them, nipping and licking until you were squirming. When you asked him to stop teasing, he nuzzled into your neck and laughed. "I've got the patience today, love."

It clicked what he meant a moment before he slid down. Your groan turned high and breathless as his tongue glided between your folds. "Oh fuck," you gasped, hips jumping. His hand held you in place. You whimpered. This wasn't fair. His tongue traced a lazy pattern that had your legs shaking. You wanted to grab him and pull him closer. But he was unmoving. The pleasure was agonizing. He would go faster then slower. Fast, then slow. You felt the edge creeping closer and then he'd pull back and nip at the softness of your thighs.

He was merciless. He was enjoying himself. His groans were sinful, his hands greedy as the touched every part of you but the place you needed them most, his pace never slowing.

"Please," you begged, voice cracking.

Bill chuckled. "Please, what, love?" he asked, the vibrations shooting up your spine.

"Please stop teasing me. Please, let me cum. Please."

"So desperate for me, eh?" His fingers pushed into you. Rubbing and searching until they curled against a spot that had you seeing white. He hummed in delight, letting his tongue flick over your clit. The knot in your stomach snapped, his name falling from your lips over and over.

He didn't stop or slow as the high faded.  

"Bill," you cried. It was too much. You pushed at his head, trying to get away from the touch. You were too sensitive. His arm wrapped around your thigh and pulled you closer.

"One more, love."

"No, no, I can't. Bill, I can't."

"One more, love. Just one more," he promised. His hand was relentless. Fingers working that same spot. Your muscles tensed. His lips wrapped around your clit and sucked. Your vision blurred. The pleasure too intense, body locked and trembling. It was euphoric. When the spasming finally subsided you gulped down air.

Bill crawled back up, smiling proudly. "Beautiful," he said. The taste of you clung to his lips as he kissed you again. Your arms looped around his neck. You wanted more. Needed more. You pulled him closer. He settled between your legs. The head of his cock teased your entrance, making you jolt. Still sensitive. You whimpered into his mouth.

"Too much?" he asked, concerned.

Your legs wrapped around his and encouraged his hips forward. "Not enough."

His nose bumped against yours. "Godric, I love you."

He slid inside, inch by inch. Slowly. Your bodies pressed flush together. A gasp escaped when his hips finally met yours. His head fell to the crook of your neck, and he stilled for a moment, taking deep breaths. Then his hips pulled back and he began a slow pace. It was gentle. His lips caressing every part of your skin they could reach. Your hands trailed down his back. The pleasure built slowly until your climax hit again. 

He kissed your jaw. "More?" he whispered.

"More."

The pace picked up. Slow became steady. You whimpered as he continued to fill you.

"So perfect," he groaned.

His hips stuttered and picked up speed. You could feel another orgasm approaching. You dug your nails into his skin, holding on tight. His breathing grew heavy, his kisses messy and wet. His hips slammed against yours and you tumbled over the edge crying his name. He followed, burying his face in your neck as his hips slowed and came to a stop.

Bill collapsed beside you and pulled you close. "Think you could go for five?" he panted. You swatted his chest. He laughed and kissed your hair. You didn't want to move. Your eyes were drooping in exhaustion when you realized you had to.

"The dittany," you sighed, reluctantly pulling away from him. You went to stand, but your legs wobbled.

"I'll get it," Bill laughed, guiding you back down. He left with a kiss, not bothering to slip anything on. He's not gone long and he didn't come back empty handed. He was gentle with the warm washcloth as he wiped up his spend that had seeped out of you. But you were still sensitive. And vocal. A wicked gleam in his eyes warned you it wasn't over.

"What are you—" your words cut off in a sharp cry as his tongue dragged across your cunt again.

"Cleaning up my mess" he said before diving back in. He was thorough, tongue sliding inside you and swirling around. You were exhausted and sure you couldn't give him what he wanted, but he wasn't deterred.

He licked and nipped and sucked. His name fell from your lips.

"Please," you sobbed.

He pulled back, wiping his chin. "Please what?"

"I can't. Please."

He hummed, considering, and dove back in. You gripped the sheets, withering under him. He was relentless. It was overwhelming. Every muscle tensed, the knot in your stomach coiling tight. You cried out. It was blissful torture. Your toes curled. Your legs shook. The orgasm hit like a tidal wave. You whimpered as his tongue eased you down.

When he was satisfied, he pulled back. "Six?"

"Don't you fucking dare." There was no ire in your tone.

"Need me to grab you anything?" he offered with a sly grin. "Since you can't walk?"

"Shut up." You threw a pillow at him. He laughed, dodging the assault.

"Be back in a minute."

He was true to his word, returning with two glasses of water, the box of treacle tart, and a fork. He handed you a glass and climbed in bed next to you. He left another kiss against your forehead. It felt normal. As if you'd been together for years. As if you were together. He offered you the first bite of the tart. A part of you ached. 

—

Molly came the next morning after Bill had left for work. She was so different from your mother, yet so much the same. They both had to keep busy when things were stressful. Something to do to keep their mind clear. Your father wasn’t like that. He liked to sit and think and plan. 

She left not long after Bill returned home. You worried she’d noticed the way Bill nearly greeted you with a kiss. But she said nothing about it. You’re not sure if that made you feel better or worse.

—

Tonks popped in for only an hour the day after. Her conversation stayed far from werewolves or the upcoming full moon. It’s only as she was preparing to leave she asked, “Think we’ll see Bill anytime soon?”

“I don’t think so.”

She didn’t comment more on it. She knew. You felt a prickle of annoyance after her departure. She knew and said nothing. Not before, not when Bill was struggling, not now. Next time you’d ask for—no, demand answers. It was only fair. For Bill’s health.

—

You’re alone the two days leading up to the full moon. Bill was insatiable. You woke up the morning of with Bill’s rushed pleas in your ear.

“Need you, love. Please.”

It’s different. Less controlled. Like he’d been starved and presented a buffet. He’s desperate. “Cum for me, please. Need to, fuck love, need to feel you squeeze me, please, please, please.” You complied happily. 

—

You paced the living room. He was supposed to be home an hour before. You didn’t question him when he finally appeared. With the way he kissed you, it couldn’t have been anyone else.

He was rough. His hands bruising, possessive.

You don't remember making it to the bed or removing your clothes, but your there under him. His mouth is on your skin, biting and sucking. There would be bruises tomorrow. He buried himself inside you without resistance. The sound you let out was embarrassing. It only encouraged him. He fucked into you harder, his hand sliding between your bodies.

It's verging on painful. "Bill," you moaned, clawing at his shoulders. You don't want him to stop. His fingers circled your clit.

"Need you to cum," he groaned. His lips found yours again. His fingers worked faster. "I can't" he cut himself off with a growl, "can't hold back. Fuck, please cum." Your back arched and nails dug into his skin. He cursed. You cried, clenching around him. His hips slammed against yours once more, and then he stilled.

But something was wrong.

There was more pressure than there should be. You can't focus on it. Your eyes were too heavy. "Bill?" It came out groggy. His weight crashed into you. You were barely able to adjust him to allow yourself to breathe before you slipped into unconsciousness.

Author's Note: He said "I love you" and our girl assumed he meant in the friendly "Wow, you're so awesome and cool!" kinda way and not in the "In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you." kinda way. He's definitely having his own internal freakout about her nonresponse to it.

Next

Before I Knew You Tag List: @believinghurts @frozenwisteria @maralisa124 @voiddylanobrosey @kyla-hale-blog @pearlsofme @minstens @sofriane @sheeple @alldaysdreamers @hotleaf-juice @elnmop @sweetphantomofyournoodler @itshardbeingamultistan @remuslupinscumslutt @thesecretwriter @cali-girl-in-heart @thxtmarvelchick @i-wished-upon-a-star-one-night @bitch-biblioklept @unstableyetloveable @psamathegoesrawr @camelliaflow3r @undeniablyyou @luciferismybabe @luvrsbian @pink-hufflepuff f @queen-of-elves @bountydroid @solkee @m-rae23 @queenofbeingdepressed @smolmexicangirl @manzanosstuff @hungrhay @mae-foster @seb-buckybarnes @idga-fudgeicle

HP Tag List: @bamboozledflamplant @charmingandfantasticfics @discogrrl @squishytomatoes @benonlinear @byelannie @itsccc @bluegiraffeplushie @pancakefancake

[crackishincorrecthp]

Hermione: What's the craziest thing you've ever done as a child? Ron: Once I asked Fred and George to help them with their products...I ended up in St. Mungus. I won't elaborate Ginny: I can confirm that Draco: Well, once I refused to go home for months because one of my father's peacocks somehow got into my bedroom and woke me up by trying to kill me...I told my father it was either me or the peacock and then ran to the floo to Pansy's house and refused to leave until my father agreed to at least put some wards in my bedroom to avoid that happening again Hermione: Ron: Ginny: Harry: Luna: Blaise: Pansy: Yeah, I can confirm that really happened Hermione: Alright, let's just move on... Luna: Well, my thing was that I used my art materials to dye my dad's hair a really bright purple while he was asleep Ginny: I stole one of the brooms and decided to fly by myself...I fell, but I was okay though, only a broken arm. Blaise: I helped my mother out on something...I won't really elaborate, but it was something crazy Pansy: I kidnapped a fucking baby Kappa and thought my parents wouldn't notice Harry: Well, I killed a basilisk and survived to it biting me because of Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix and once I ended up in my Muggle school's roof...Oh, and let's not forget that I killed our DADA professor Hermione: It was self defense, so it doesn't really count, Harry Ron: Yeah, mate Ginny: Don't blame yourself for that, Harry Luna: And I'm pretty sure Gin told me that Ron told her that you told him and Hermione that the old Voldy was possessing your professor Pansy: Blaise: Draco: Draco: Okay, but...Can we focus on the "I killed a basilisk" part? 'Cause that's kinda hot, not gonna lie

[celestemagnoliathewriter]

Lupin & Tonks: Order of the Phoenix Moments

If you've ever looked for all the Lupin & Tonks moments in OotP, look no further. I spent some time today compiling all the times we see Lupin and Tonks together (so you don't have to), with a few of my own notes for each of these moments. Something that came up for me while compiling this: we rarely see Tonks without Remus. If Tonks is anywhere near Harry, you can almost guarantee that Lupin is there too. I don't think this is coincidental.

We meet Tonks when we see Lupin in The Advance Guard. Tonks has a few sassy lines until Lupin introduces her as "And this is Nymphadora--". Tonks of course tells him not to call her Nymphadora (she calls him Remus), and then Remus finishes with "--Nymphadora Tonks, who prefers to be known by her surname only." My own notes: like many Remadora fans, I see this as subtle flirtation on Remus's part. Is it conscious? Probably not. I like to think he likes to rile her up every now and then because he finds it charming.

Lupin and Tonks carry Harry's trunk together in the next chapter. I picture Lupin behind Tonks so he can check out her trunk ;)

We learn from Harry that Remus steps in to help with cleaning Grimmauld Place, and sometimes they're joined by Tonks (she helped remove a ghoul from a toilet). This gives us an idea that Remus and Tonks are spending time together--with others around, presumably--in addition to any Order missions. I have a little HC that when Tonks comes over and Remus is at GP, he drops whatever he's doing to come see her and help with cleaning (even if he hates it).

We see Tonks again at the beginning of ch. 7, The Ministry of Magic. Harry wakes up and finds Arthur, Molly, Sirius, Lupin, and Tonks waiting for him. Tonks is tired but immediately greets Harry. Meanwhile, Remus: "Lupin glanced at Harry, then said to Tonks, 'What were you saying about Scrimgeour?'" I find it interesting that Tonks greets Harry while Remus just takes a look at him and goes instantly back to talking to Tonks. Harry: mild panic over upcoming hearing. Remus: glance and go back to talking to his crush. I HC that at this point, Remus is still unaware that he is developing feelings for Tonks, and Tonks is clueless about it.

Tonks shows up for the prefect party thrown for Ron and Hermione. Harry notices her with Sirius, Lupin, and Kingsley. Tonks wears her hair long and red, which makes Harry think she looks like Ginny's older sister (a high compliment, considering Harry finds Ginny very pretty). Tonks also says she wasn't a prefect, and then Harry finds out Sirius wasn't either, nor was his father, James.

Both Lupin and Tonks accompany the kids to King's Cross. Tonks goes with Harry (she's morphed as little old lady), while Lupin arrives with Ginny, Fred, and George. I picture the gang going back to GP, with Sirius in a great mood, and then Lupin and Tonks having some more bonding moments.

(The only time we see Tonks without Lupin is when Arthur is attacked and the kids go to St. Mungo's. It's Mad-Eye and Tonks who take the kids across London to the hospital.)

Lupin and Tonks escort the kids back to Hogwarts via the Knight Bus. Tonks is disguised as a tall, tweedy woman, and Lupin leads the way to the bus. It's a bit unclear if Lupin and Tonks take the Knight Bus back to London or if they Apparate away. As Harry only mentions the bus having disappeared, I assume that Lupin and Tonks went back on the bus to have some quality time together.

(We get a good bit of Lupin when Harry sees Snape's Worst Memory. One of the few times Tonks isn't around Lupin, but I think it's the middle of a workday and Remus and Sirius have nothing better to do than sit around at GP and relive the good old days.)

Tonks and Lupin show up at the Ministry in ch. 35, Beyond the Veil. Tonks gets seriously injured by Bellatrix and topples down many stone seats. Lupin tells Harry to take the others and go. Then Sirius dies and Lupin holds Harry back from going after him. We learn later that Tonks likely had to spend some time at St. Mungo's, but she should make a full recovery. I always like various interpretations of this injury and its impact on Remus: does he panic when he realizes she's unconscious? Is he there with her at the hospital? Did he bring her there? Is that when he meets her parents? So many options for these scenes.

The last time we see Tonks in OotP is at King's Cross. She's recovered, has bright pink hair, patched jeans, and a Weird Sisters t-shirt. She's standing next to a shabby-looking Lupin. She joins in the effort of intimidating the Dursleys, her sentence being finished by none other than Lupin. Tonks: "The point is, if we find out you've been horrible to Harry--" Lupin, finishing her thought: "--and make no mistake, we'll hear about it."

All of these moments are from Harry's POV. We can assume that there are missions that Lupin and Tonks did together, and many more moments of bonding at Grimmauld Place with the Order. Tonks is with Lupin when we meet her for the first time in OotP and again when we see her at the end.

From Harry's POV, we can't really see their relationship building, but given what we know later in the series, it's not hard for me to imagine each of these moments as bigger points in time when Lupin and Tonks grow closer to one another.

[thegrimalldis]

Transcript under the cut

There's going to be a little 6 month time jump after the next four posts so I'm gonna go ahead and post those routinely instead of one each month. Then take a mini break while I work on the next Maximilian post and the rest of the main story

[Mayor Lenton]: I am very honored to unveil this statue today on behalf of St. George's College -

[Mayor Lenton]: A statue which is dedicated to the royal family...for their extraordinary service and devotion to our great nation.

-

[Helena]: What if I don't wish to be Queen?

[CP Max]: It is our duty to serve Monaca. You must always remember that, Helena.

[CP Max]: You and I share a rare but gifted destiny.

-

[Maximilian]: You've not said a word since we left.

[Helena]: I've just been...thinking.

[Maximilian]: Of what?

[Helena]: Everything.

-

[Maximilian]: She's been distracted...more so since Henry was hospitalized.

[Margot]: I spoke to Ginny earlier. He's not getting any better, Max.

[Maximilian]: I always believed Uncle Henry was the glue of this family. He held us together as much as he could when...

[Margot]: I know.

[Maximilian]: My mother will be lost without him. His council is the only one that ever mattered to her.

[Margot]: She'll have you to lean on.

[Maximilian]: I could never fill his shoes.

[Margot]: You don't have to. You're her son and heir.

[dewitty1]

Fic Recs Wrap Up January 2024♡(੭ˊ͈ ꒵ˋ͈)੭*･:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*☆

The Wake-up Kiss by Justlikewriting

This time, when Harry found himself without a date for the Ministry Yule Ball, Parvati Patil was unable to step in. So, he was left with the only other viable option: to ask Draco Malfoy. Which would be fine, of course: it had been twelve years since the war after all. And they saw each other regularly now, meeting up with the same group of friends almost every Friday night. Harry, however, obviously hadn’t taken into account just how insufferable Zacharias Smith could be. Rec Post

The Binding and the Loosing by TheGoblinMatriarch @thegoblinmatriarch

Draco Malfoy is a reclusive academic who works on layered generational magic under the pseudonym Scholar Griseo. When he is contacted by a ‘James Black’ for help with a tricky situation with a magical House, he can’t help but notice the similarities between his potential client and Harry Potter. Since he can’t exactly refuse to help the Saviour of the magical world, Draco girds his loins and visits Grimmauld Place, where he ends up involved in what he must presume is one of those classic Harry Potter misadventures. Bonding, sentient Houses, domesticity ahoy! Rec Post

A True Entanglement by Booktopus @thebooktopus

One moment, Harry was minding his own business, going about his workday, and the next, he found himself being dragged across the Ministry by a red string that had somehow curled up in a pretty little bow around his wrist. A story of fate, smut, falling in love, and a string named Harold. Rec Post

Fire Meet Gasoline by lettersbyelise @lettersbyelise

When Draco’s anger management issues land him in St Mungo’s, he thinks his Quidditch career is over. But Harry, A&E Healer and notorious workaholic, is faced with a similar predicament. To save their jobs, the two of them decide to fake a relationship. All they have to do is convince their friends and employers… and not fall in love in the process. Simple, right? Rec Post

Everything is Relative to You by honeybeet @thehoneybeet

Potter was supposed to have lived. Draco is certain of this. That Potter would no longer walk the earth was tantamount to the sun moving west to east across the sky. If only he could have stopped this from happening, if he’d have known… It comes to him as ideas often did: too late. Or, Harry dreams of his past lives, and Draco is in every one. Rec Post

we’ll keep the king by BlueSundayCake  @bluesundaycake

On a cold December morning, Remus Lupin shows up on Severus Snape’s doorstep with a child with very familiar eyes. Rec Post

Evitative by Vichan  @k-vichan

In the summer before his fifth year at Hogwarts, Harry is drawn to a room in Grimmauld Place. Like the Gryffindor he is, he enters the room without fear. The room is a library, and Harry is surprised to find that he’s eager to learn.

Then he gets the bad news: he’s been accidentally expelled from Hogwarts, and he needs to be sorted again. Everyone is confident that he’ll go straight back to Gryffindor, but with what he’s been learning, Harry’s not so sure. Rec Post

The White Pawn by Soupy_George @soupy-george

When eighteen-year-old Draco Malfoy finds himself back at Hogwarts on the eve of Voldemort’s infamous return, he is confronted with the most difficult decision he’s ever had to make: Relive the 6th year at school he’s tried so hard to forget, or do the unthinkable and ally himself with Potter’s lot… Rec Post

Howlr by partialtopotter @partialtopotter

Howlr is the new dating application enchanting Witches, Wizards and Everyone in between. Are you looking for the one or a one-night stand; it’s all here folks. Howlr is sponsored by Weasley Wizard Wheezes, the same team that brought us the Spellular just two years ago. Ginny Weasley, famed chaser for the Holyhead Harpies, swears by the app, ‘guaranteed to make sparks fly,’ she says. The magic awaits you! Rec Post

Here are a few more fics I've read recently that y'all might like to check out as well!(ノﾟ∀ﾟ)ノ━☆ﾟ･*:.｡. .｡.:*･.*･｡ﾟ*:・ﾟ✧

Inevitable [Drarry] by violenttulips

After the war, Harry Potter becomes a talented Senior Auror with a penchant for injury in defense of his colleagues. Draco Malfoy leaves the country for five years and becomes an accomplished Specialty Healer. He comes back after he accepts a job at St. Mungo's Hospital. When they meet again, it's clear that Draco has changed significantly in the years since they attended Hogwarts together, and Harry finds himself strangely attracted to his former rival. But things never come easy for the Boy-Who-Lived, and that's not about to change now.

Learn To Fly by Ladderofyears @ladderofyears

January 2004: Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter are two of the finest Seekers in England, deadly rivals and secret lovers. As far as Draco is concerned, that's how it'll stay forever. He is betrothed to beautiful heiress Astoria Greengrass, and they are due to have a big summer wedding. Everything changes during a hotly fought Arrows versus Wimbourne game when Draco falls from his broom. To his huge shock, when Draco awakes in St Mungo's, he discovers he is pregnant. What will Draco do, now everything in his tidily compartmentalised life has to change?

He Comes Like a Thunderstorm by korlaena @korlaena

Draco is doing his best to balance the life he wants to live and the life he’s forced to live. He’s nearing the tail-end of a long, post-war probation when Harry Potter crashes back into his life with all the grace of a charging Erumpent, breaking through his carefully constructed rules and routine. Caught up in a whirlwind of sex and lust, Potter unwittingly shows Draco that his life as an Incubus doesn’t have to be as lonely and unfulfilling as he thought, but how long can it last?

Denouement by the_never_was 

Pale face in paler hands, he is devoid of color. He is only the moonlight. And he wonders if he'll find the sun. A story about Draco entering a period of change that will either shatter him or enfold him into Harry Potter's world.

( •ॢ◡-ॢ)-♡ I hope you enjoy these fics as much as I have! Happy reading, y’all! xoxo Carey  (◍•ᴗ•◍)♡ ✧*💜💙💚💛❤💗💕💖

[mycenalucentipes]

You Won't Understand || Draco Malfoy x GN!Reader

Summary: Where, you stumble upon Draco mid breakdown in a secluded part of the library. Draco hisses for you to go away, believing that you’ll never understand his problems. You scoff, saying, “try me”, thus starts a newfound companion. 

Word count: ~2.5k

Warnings: Swearing, angst, some comfort towards the end?

a/n: Hi, I just wanted to write a fic in where, the reader also struggles with not being good enough, and finally, maybe, someone will understand what they’re going through. I might’ve self projected all of my worries and trauma from my high school days lol. There's a longer explanation for that at the end if anyone wants to read xD

But anyways, please enjoy

A deep sigh escaped your lips as you made your way to the library. It was lunchtime, and you were supposed to be in the Great Hall with your friends. However, earlier that day, you received a Howler from your mother. 

“Y/N L/N. YOU HAVE BEEN SLACKING OFF IN YOUR STUDIES AGAIN HAVEN’T YOU!? YOU ONLY RECEIVED AN EXCEEDS EXPECTATIONS ON YOUR LAST EXAM. HOW COULD YOU!? DON’T EXPECT TO COME HOME WITH THOSE GRADES. IF YOU RECEIVE ANYTHING LESS THAN AN OUTSTANDING ON THE REST OF YOUR EXAMS, DON’T EVEN BOTHER COMING HOME.”

Thankfully you were in the privacy of your dorm room when you received this. Everyone had already left for the day. Your mother, a proud Ravenclaw, was deeply ashamed that you were sorted into the Slytherin house instead of hers. So to compensate, she relentlessly tortured you to always achieve the highest marks possible. After graduating Hogwarts, she attended the University of Oxford and ended up working for a different prestigious university as a researcher in neurology. 

Your father on the other hand was not a wizard. He was a muggle that your mother had fallen in love with while she attended regular university. He was also a neurologist, a man of science. He despised the magic part of you. It was a rude awakening when you got your letter from Hogwarts and your mother had to explain everything about her world. She fought him hard and long to send you to Hogwarts, so you couldn’t completely despise her. However, since they both wanted the best of their worlds for you, their expectations were too high in the sky for a mere sixteen-year old. Your father wanted you to attend the most prestigious university for med school while your mother just wanted you to be the top of your class. She figured you could become a healer at St. Mungo's or gain a high position in the Ministry of Magi. (She might be trying to live vicariously through you, as she gave up any jobs involving magic.)

As a result, you weren’t sure what you wanted anymore. For now, since you and your father weren’t exactly on speaking terms, your mother was the only one who even seemed to care. Thus, you focused all of your attention on your studies within the past month. Often skipping meals or falling asleep during them. Your friends began noticing the toll it took on you–your face grew paler and more tired, your hands shook, and dark circles formed under your eyes from countless all-nighters. Needless to say, you were incredibly freaked out for your next exam.

 If you didn’t receive an Outstanding, you would not have anywhere to go for the summer. Maybe you could spend it with the Weasleys? You managed to befriend Ginny, Fred, and George. Ron was a little harder to get him to come around, just because you were a Slytherin. 

On your way to the library, you nearly ran head first into Ginny. Oh, how coincidental. Before you even had a chance to apologise, she started rambling. 

“Oh hey, Y/n! I was just looking for you, I haven’t seen you at any meals today,” She said with worry evident on her face, “Are you alright? Please, come back to  lunch with me. I miss you, Y/n. We're all worried about you.” You cast her a guilt-ridden look. 

“I’m just heading to the library. I need to perfect my knowledge for the next exam,” You sighed defeatedly with a small chuckle. 

“But, Y/n–” Ginny began, concern lacing her voice. This time, you wore an apologetic expression. 

“I’m sorry Ginny, I just can’t. I–uhm, can I ask a favour from you though?” Avoiding eye contact out of shame, you looked away, unable to hold her gaze any longer.

“Of course Y/n, anything.” Ginny reached out and rubbed your arm in an attempt to comfort you.

You let out a heavy sigh. “Could I possibly stay at your place over the summer?” You hung your head down, eyes filled with unshed tears. You couldn’t bring yourself to meet Ginny’s gaze. “My mother owled me to say: If you don’t get O’s on the rest of your exams, don’t even think about coming home, child!” Ginny gasped softly, eyes widening at the words that stammered out of your mouth. 

“Oh, Y/n, of course you can stay with us. I'm sure you'll be alright, but you're always welcome to stay with us,” She replied, her voice brimming with sympathy. You gave a short nod of thanks, unable to speak or your tears would escape your eyes. “I suppose I’ll see you later then? Please, come to dinner at least.” You once again nodded, giving her a small smile. She smiled back as well, then turned and left you once again. 

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. The exhaustion and tiredness from it all was creeping in, eating away at you slowly. 

You were so tired. When would it get better? When would it end?

As you entered the library, your eyes scanned the endless rows of books, searching for a quiet place to study. That’s when you noticed a figure hunch in a cushioned chair by a window, their shoulders shaking and trembling.

It was Draco Malfoy. A boy that you weren’t really on any terms with. Occasional waves from you and small nods from him were the extent of your communication. 

Forgetting about your own woes for a moment, you cautiously approached him, uncertain if he would react kindly to your presence. Once you were about five feet away from him, his head snapped up. Then you saw his face. Tears pooled out of his eyes every few seconds, his lips trembled, then his brows narrowed. 

“What are you doing here?” Draco spat out, his voice a little hoarse. 

You hesitated for a moment, taking in the situation you just landed yourself in. Despite the venomous sounding tone, you could detect that he really hadn’t meant it that way. Ignoring his question, you stepped closer, concern etched on your own features.

“Are you alright?” You asked softly, your voice filled with genuine worry, “I–Is there anything I can do?”

Draco averted his gaze, trying to hide the pain and tears in his eyes. “It’s nothing. Just go away, please. You wouldn’t understand,” he muttered, his voice laced with frustration. You narrowed your eyes at this. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t? Why, because I’m not a pureblood? Because I 'don’t have any expectations placed onto me'? Hmm?” You retorted back, unsure why you spat back such a defensive response. He looked slightly taken aback at your words. 

“Yes, precisely. Wow, you're so smart,” his voice dripping with sarcasm, he rolled his eyes, then slumped back in the chair.

You folded your arms. “Try me, then. I won’t tell anyone, I swear it," you challenged him, not budging.  

He narrowed his eyes at you once again, unsure if he should open up. After a moment of internal struggle, he sighed with defeat. “If you really must know, There’s just–just so many expectations weighing on me. If I’m not good enough, it will be a disaster for my parents and me. I don’t want to risk anything, and the pressure is so... suffocating. I feel like I’m losing my mind,” he reluctantly started, but soon couldn’t stop, he didn’t know why he was sharing all of this with some random classmate.

“I’m not good enough for him. I don’t even feel that I’m good enough for my parents. My father always says: Malfoys do this, Malfoys don’t do that. Then my mother is already trying to arrange a marriage for me. I wish everyone’s expectations of me would just disappear.”

“But how would you ever understand that type of pressure?” He sighed in frustration as you just nodded along. muttered quietly, but you still heard him.

You didn't know who 'he' was, but you sure as fuck knew about pressure from parents.

“Sorry to interrupt your little pity party, Malfoy,” you sighed, meeting his glare with a calm gaze. “But let me tell you, I do understand the feelings of pressure and not being good enough for someone. I’m going to get kicked out of my home by my mother if I don’t get Outstandings on every single last assignment. She's dead serious about that. My father and I aren’t on speaking terms because he thinks being magical is stupid. He wants me to attend muggle medicine university. My mother shames me everyday for being in Slytherin and not her perfect little Ravenclaw house. They both expect me to do what they want without giving me a choice. If I’m not their perfect little daughter, I’ll just get shunned and kicked out. Disowned. I'm just their disappointment,” you rambled out, “but I suppose this little talk shouldn’t be about me. Sorry, didn't mean to spin it like that. Just forget it.” 

Maybe your family's reputation wasn't as important as the Malfoys, but nonetheless, you were sure you would become disowned by them. They had set unrealistic expectations out of you. Your mental health was rapidly declining, if it hadn’t already hit rock bottom, your feelings were valid and you won’t let anyone tell you otherwise. However, your parents didn’t seem to care about your feelings. 

"I definitely know how it feels. Like someone is drowning or suffocating you. There's no breaks. And it's all ridiculous because we are just teenagers. So what the fuck, life?" You angrily whisper out.

Draco stared at you, momentarily speechless. “I… I had no idea,” he murmured out, “it seems you are capable of understanding this more than I thought.” You mirrored the speechlessness, unsure if you should be insulted or relieved by his admission. He looked away from you, staring out the window for a brief moment. 

“It’s alright, Draco. No one really notices anyways,” you laugh awkwardly, trying to brush your feelings away again. Even though you pushed for Draco to share his feelings, you felt like a burden doing the same thing. 

You went to approach him, stepping into the rays of sunlight that beamed in from the windows. It wasn’t until now that Draco took in your full appearance. He never paid you much mind, as you weren’t a pureblood or in his friend group, but friends with the Weasleys. You truly were a beauty. You had godly features that rivalled any of the most attractive students. Your hair cascaded softly around your face, accentuating your facial features. It was also then, he realised just how malnourished and exhausted you were looking. The sunken eyes, pale face, bloodshot eyes and slightly trembling form. He was sure a gust of wind would knock you over. 

“You look like shit, L/n.” Draco said flatly, instantly realising the bluntness of his comment. Your eyes widened at his comment.

 “I–I’m sorry, that was uncalled for.” He apologised? Who was this imposter and what did he do with Draco Malfoy? 

“Gee, thanks. It’s nothing I can’t handle though.” You rolled your eyes, a small laugh escaped your lips. Attempting to brush his concern off and divert the attention away from yourself, you shot back, “Have you seen yourself though? I could say the same.” Draco just shook his head with amusement on his face.

“Yeah, yeah. But, it’s clearly not ‘nothing’. A gust of wind could knock you over,” he retorted back, though his gaze softened. You scoffed at him. He couldn’t explain why he suddenly cared, why he wanted to reach out to you. Maybe it was because you made him feel calmer? The gentle aura you carried around when others were there was relaxing and a good change of pace. Maybe it was the fact that you also shared the same feelings of struggle as him. Not being accepted or feeling good enough for everyone. You tried to help him (in your own challenging way), now he wanted to help you, at least just a little. 

You hummed a little, shying away a little for the first time. “Well, perhaps we could both use a break from trying to meet everyone’s expectations. Maybe we can help each other out,” you suggest, “though I don’t know how to help out with the whole pureblood traditions thing, I’ll be around for you if you need some support. Or just a friend to hangout with or vent to.” Draco nodded along with your plan, not feeling too opposed to this.

“And I can help you with your studies,” he offered with a soft tone. You nodded as well, giving a genuine smile this time. 

+==+==+

Over the next few weeks, you and Draco spent more and more time together. Sometimes it would be hardcore study sessions. Where it felt like the questions he quizzed you on were never ending. Other times, it would be ranting about everything and nothing. It helped both of you get some weight off your chests. A couple times, you took trips to Hogsmeade to chat over a butterbeer or three. 

You could say it was a friendship. You weren’t sure how he felt, but you could feel yourself falling for the Slytherin boy. Though you knew it might not end well, with him being a ‘pureblood’ and all. Such bullshit that is. You often told him that was your opinion on the pureblood traditions, he would just chuckle, sadness laced in it occasionally. 

“Y/n, how do you feel about your grades?” Draco asked casually as you both walked down an empty hallway. Your face paled and your body froze in your steps. The feeling always haunted you, no matter how much you talked it over, it would still haunt you. Draco came to a halt and turned towards you, voice laced with genuine worry, “Y/n?” He could see the inner turmoil your brain shoved you into, and it pained him more than it should have to see you like this. 

You tried to shake yourself out of anxiety’s grip. “I’m not too sure to be honest. I’m waiting on three exams and two homework grades still…,” you trailed off, drowning in your worries again. 

“Hey, hey, you’ll be ok, alright?” He said with a much softer tone while placing his hands on your arms. Over the weeks, you both became immaculate at reading each other’s signs of worry or anxiety, knowing exactly what to do. 

“You don’t know that, Draco,” you sighed, “although, maybe staying with the Weasleys would be better for my mental health anyways.” At this thought, you felt a little more relieved, but no matter how much you tried not to care, these feelings would forever haunt you.

“A–anyways, how about you? How’s your whole… family thing?” You asked, deflecting any more concern that came your way.

“It’s uh… still not great. Mother called off any preset engagements, however she still wants me to at least try going on the dates.” He grumbled. It was a little progress. You encouraged him to express his feelings with his mother, maybe it would change her mind. You knew it was a long shot to be able to change the traditions of hundreds of years, but why not try now? 

“Oh! Well, I suppose that’s… a little good then?” You tilted your head a little, becoming lost in thoughts again. You wondered if her mind would ever change enough to let you potentially date Draco. No, you haven’t confessed anything to Draco, but your feelings weren’t dying. 

Draco scrunched his nose and gave a slight nod. “Yes, I suppose so. Maybe, someday, she’ll let me date whoever I want, without worrying about blood status…” Your eyes widened, a blush spreading across your cheeks and to your ears. 

“That would be nice, wouldn’t it?” You stammered out. You didn’t want to get your hopes up, but you could’ve sworn that was implying he wanted to date you. Little did you know, you were correct. Maybe someday it would work out, but for now, both of you were content with your ever growing friendship. Though, can you really call this a friendship? You were sure it dug deeper than just that. 

looong a/n: So, I might’ve self projected all of my worries and trauma from my highschool days. I went to a public hs, but good god, the standards were high. Anything less than an A was a failure. I had friends crying over 94%’s… I had a couple friends that would get locked out of their houses for the day if they brought home C’s. I, myself, never felt smart enough either. My friends always scored higher than me.

I maintained a solid 3.8 GPA, but it just wasn’t as high as my friends’ with their 3.9’s and 4.0’s :’). So I spent my whole grade school career, never feeling smart enough. I cried myself to sleep most nights from the stress of it all. My parents would get onto me and had really high expectations for me as well. It took my dad forever to realise I'm going to sometimes get C's because some subjects just don't click and I crumble under pressure. No matter how hard I study, I cannot always get A's. That should be okay, but my parents....hhhhh. It’s taken me a little bit of time to start undoing the feeling that if I don't get A’s, I’m a failure.

Though, I’m finally realising that grades aren’t everything in life, and it’s ok. I’ll still aim for the top, but I’m not sacrificing my mental health for it again. (I still have a 3.8GPA at uni, but now I’m studying smarter ;) and uni has been slightly easier than high school, wtf.) I’m not trying to sound stuck up or snobby, I promise and I apologise. That was just the school mindset I was raised in. In which, I’m trying to undo some of those more painful mindsets. 

I’m trying to learn that my efforts are enough. I’m putting my best work in while not sacrificing my sanity this time. I’m enough, you’re enough, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. 

Thanks for reading if you did!

[angstintensifer]

Harry Potter Next Gen as modern family moments

Harry: *reading a letter from Teddy after he leaves for Hogwarts*

Ginny; Harry?

Harry: Make sure to take care Harry, I’ll miss you guys so much

Ginny; nice huh?

Harry, full on crying: Nice! Im gonna go mail him another robe

****

Hugo; you know that hero essay we have to write

Hermione: Mhmm, what about it

Hugo: Well dad kinda assumed I wrote it about him, but I didn’t

Hermione: don’t worry I’ll talk to him

Hugo; you don’t think he’ll be upset, I wrote it about you?

Hermione, touched: you wrote it about me?

Hugo; you know me, I didn’t think much. What’s a hero? Someone whose not afraid of anything and whose strong, that’s you

****

Bill: Im actually relieved, the day that I’ve been dreading. The day you two have finally have out grown me has finally arrived.

Bill, crying; I’m handling it really well.

Victoire: Dad are you crying?

Bill: No

Dominique: are you sure you’re okay?

Bill: Yep

Victoire: Oh Merlin he is crying

Dominique: I’ve never seen dad cry before.

Victoire, starting to cry: but dad if you cry then I’ll cry.

Bill, still crying: I’m not crying

Dominique, also crying; we made our dad cry

Bill: you totally did

Victoire: Because you are our daddy!

All three: *harsh crying and sobbing*

****

Ron and Hermione after Rose got a bump in the head.

Hermione: can we please just call your sister?

Ron: No way, Ginny will be all judgement and condescending, like she’s perfect and I don’t know how to take care of a baby

Hermione: Ronald, she is your family.

Ron: Right so-

Hermione picking up the phone: Of course she’ll be judgmental and condescending

****

Louis: I remember crashing through the wall and the ambulance ride to St Mungos

Bill: That wasn’t an ambulance, I drove you

Louis: then what was that siren?

Bill: that was your mother

Fleur: I ‘as worried!

****

Harry: I did not pick Lily up early from play school

Ginny: Lily, did Daddy pick you up early from school?

Lily: No

Harry: See? Case closed

Lily; we didn’t go

Ginny: Case open

Lily: we went shopping

Harry: Ha Ha, shush now, Lily-

Lily: we bought matching hats

****

George: Act like a parent, talk like a peer.

George: I call it “peer-renting”

****

Percy: There are very few parenting issues where I come out on top.

Percy; You know I’m distant. I work too much, my French braiding is sloppy

Percy: finally, something that isn’t my fault.

****

James: Whoa, you’re being a little-

Rose: Obstreperous? Recalcitrant? Truculent?

James: I was going to say “cray cray”

****

Ginny: Hermione and I are going to go on this beautiful hike while you all sit and think about how selfish and thoughtless you’ve been

Hermione: *nods in agreement*

Rose: if we’re thoughtless how can we think?

Ginny:…

Hermione: …..

****

James: In Legally blonde, Elle won her case because she was true to herself and dressed cute

Harry: James, this is real life, not an excellent movie

****

James: Al, before you say no-

Albus: No.

James: I haven’t even told you yet!

Albus: I’m sticking with no.

****

Ron: Marry someone who looks sexy, while disappointed

Hermione: *looks to Ron in disappointment*

Ron: see?

****

Ron: I’ll get you fixed up *bandages Hugo*

Hugo: Where’s mum?

Ron referring to Hermiones work: She belongs to the people now

Rose coming in: My allergies are acting up again

Ron giving her medicine: well it’s your lucky day, because missy, doctor dad is in the house

Rose: where’s mum?

Hugo: some people took her

Rose: …..

****

Dominique & Victoire arguing

Bill: Ah ah ah, let’s this in court, the food court. The honorable judge Cinnabon presiding

Victoire: That place smells like the inside of Louis Quidditch Robes

Dominique: I like the food court

Lily: me too

Bill: don’t worry girls. We’re not gonna deprive ourselves because of Victoires aversion

Dominique: *cackles*

Victoire: ….

Bill: …..

Dominique suddenly stops: Oh, Victoires aversion, I thought you said-

Victoire shakes her head rapidly

Dominique: Never mind

Bill 0-0 *slowly realizes*

****

Angelina walking until she slips on eggs

Angelina: Fred! Why?

Fred: Im making my egg dropping project

Angelina: maybe don’t make such a mess in the hallway

Fred: Got it! What if I’m the container!

Angelina: there’s a thought- wait no Fred!

Fred, on the edge of the stairs with Roxy putting an egg in his mouth

****

Fleur: What a wonderful dinner

Bill: I’m impressed

Teddy with his arm around Vic: Thanks next time let’s do it at our place

Victoire realizing he accidentally told them they’re moving in together

Louis: I’m in, just give us a owl to let me know

Bill: our place?

Victoire: Well since I’m finished school now, Teddy and I were thinking of getting a flat

Bill: I-

Louis: are you doing sex?

****

Hugo: I’m moving into the attic

James: Cool

Albus: The attic?

Hugo: Hey, at least it’s big, Teddy said you used to live in a closet

Albus: *gay silence*

****

Ron taking care of Rose alone

Hermione over the phone; Keep an eye on rose she has a tendency to wander off

Ron realizing Rose did exactly that: ‘Mione I’m completely capable of-

Hermione: You lost her didn’t you?

Ron: No no no, she is right here, hi honey

Hermione: I can it in your voice, check the dairy case

Ron finding her and trying to open the door: Do you honestly think-

Hermione: doors don’t pull they slide

****

[dawnstudies]

Some HC's for Harry Potter - Weasley family (can you blame me? I love them)

Ginny was usually the manliest among all the Weasleys and had a hardcore tomboy phase during her fifth year in Hogwarts, however one thing that she absolutely adored which is usually found "girly" was flowers. All sorts of flowers. They were just so colourful and beautiful and that's where her relationship with Luna came from. They both loved flowers. Exotic flowers. That's why Ginny also loved gardening.

After the war, George wasn't sure how to run the shop alone - obviously, even before Fred died the two barely understood the "managing" and complicated "paperwork" part of it - so a reconnecting part for him and Percy was when Percy showed up one day to offer him help with managing the shop. With Percy's knowledge of law George got things sorted easily.

When Fred & George were first opening their shop, Percy helped them sort out the paperwork, and when the two asked why exactly he would help out of all people, Percy straight out admitted that he thought the idea was "brilliant" and "badass" (George almost passed out from shock when he heard his brother swear like that).

Law actually caught Ron's interest too and even after he quit as an auror and went to George's shop to help, he still kept it as a hobby and gave a hand to George every time Percy couldn't; after a while Ron decided to go to Law College and got a degree.

By the way, I'm really thinking about making a fanfiction based on an AU I was thinking about, where Percy would become a doctor at St Mungo's (a fanfiction including that HC is already finished and on my Wattpad account), Arthur being a psychologist instead of a ministry worker, Ronald becoming a lawyer and it would basically include a lot of fluff and angst. My favourites :)

What do you guys think? Would it be a good idea?

[romione-trope-fest]

Shell Cottage

Title: Shell Cottage

Author: adenei

Trope: Only One Bed

Summary: What if Shell Cottage wasn’t Bill and Fleur’s home/safehouse during the war…because there was no Voldemort? What if the Weasley kids used it for something else entirely? A something that was bestowed upon each Weasley kid before they entered their seventh year. And what if Ron used that something to his advantage, finally giving him a shot at getting together with Hermione?

WC: 7,738 (in 3 parts. part 1 here)

TW: alcohol use, frivolity, bed sharing.

**********

Part 1

  It’s an unusually warm summer day in Ottery St. Catchpole, and Ron welcomes the sun shining down on his face as he ventures outside. Summer’s always been his favorite season. When he was younger it was because his siblings would all be home from Hogwarts, so he had lots of options for playmates. And when he’d started school, it meant a nice long break from never-ending assignments and exams throughout the year.

  This summer is different, though. It’s officially his last as a student, which means it could be the final time he’ll have minimal responsibilities before he’s expected to pursue a career—and it’s coming to an end far too quickly. In two short weeks, he’ll be entering his seventh and final year of Hogwarts, and then this time next year? Well, who knows exactly what his future holds.

  Ron walks out to the garden, summoned by his brothers for a pick-up game of Quidditch, but no one’s there yet. It’s a rare afternoon when everyone stopped by to visit and hang out, much to Mrs. Weasley’s delight. They rarely spent time together aside from Sunday dinner, so the impromptu visit sent their mum into a tizzy. 

  They made some excuse about wanting to help Ron and Ginny train for tryouts in a few weeks, but Ron thinks they all secretly miss flying. Nevertheless, it still struck him as peculiar when he couldn’t see anyone around. Especially considering Fred and George already had their brooms when Bill asked him to come play. He figured they’d be flying around warming up already.

  Weird.

  Nevertheless, Ron keeps his pace toward the broomshed. Even if it’s all some stupid prank, he figures he can still charm some Quaffles and get a little solo practice in at the very least. It doesn’t matter that he’s held the Gryffindor Keeper position for two years now, he still wants to earn it.

  Not that Harry would give it to anyone else, unless they totally outperformed him. But every season, every match, he’s gained more confidence and honed his skills. It’s not like he plans on going pro or anything, but still, he wants to maintain his position on the team.

  Finally reaching the broomshed, he opens the door to retrieve his Cleansweep, but is met instead with a pair of arms pulling him into the small space.

  “What the—”

  “It’s about time, Ronniekins,” Fred chides.

  George shuts the door behind him and casts some sort of silencing charm on it. “Yeah, can’t say this is where I’d prefer to spend my afternoon waiting for you.”

  “So why are you in here and not outside?” Ron asks, completely bewildered. “I thought we were going to play Quidditch?”

  “We are, but we have to talk to you first.” Impatience lingers in Fred’s tone before Bill clears his throat.

  “It’s a…private matter.”

  “Oh, fucking hell, not the sex talk again,” Ron groans.

  George grins. “We can if you—”

  “No.”

  “Suit yourself.” Fred shrugs. “I happen to think we did a stellar job with our brotherly duty.”

  George nudges Bill. “Even provided Percy’s diagrams and everything.”

  Bill sniggers. “Did you really? Well, as much as I’d love to continue that conversation, we probably don’t have much time before Ginny comes outside and catches us in here.” Ron folds his arms as he waits for his oldest brother to continue.  “So, you’re about to start your seventh year in a couple weeks—”

  “Really? I had no idea.” Ron can’t help the quip, but he hates when people state the obvious.

  “Easy now, Ronniekins. As much as we love a good tradition, we don’t have to share this with you if you want to be all testy,” Fred warns.

  “Anyway.” Bill regains everyone’s attention. “As Fred so eloquently stated, we have a bit of a tradition that I started and has since been passed down to everyone.”

  “Even Percy,” George interjects.

  “Though I don’t think he threw much of a rager,” Fred shakes his head in disappointment.

  Bill chuckles. “No. I’m pretty sure he used the weekend for himself and Penelope and—”

  “No!” gasps Fred.

  A shit-eating grin plasters George’s face. “Did they—is that when he—no wonder he was such a bloody tosser all year!”

  “Acting even more pretentious than usual,” Fred continues.

  “All because he got—

  “Alright, alright. Percy’ll kill me if he finds out I told you so keep that to yourselves, yeah?”

  “Oh, come on, Bill. You’d crush him in a duel. He’s got nothing on you,” Fred ignores the point.

  Ron doesn’t realize until after the exchange that his eyes have widened at the information, and while he may have been annoyed before, he’s much more interested in what Bill has to say now.

  “So, are you going to tell me or…”

  Instead of answering right away, Bill digs into his pocket before brandishing a key.

  “What’s that to?” Ron presses again, and all three of his brothers grin widely.

  “Shell Cottage.”

  Shell Cottage. Where’s he heard that name before? He has to delve deep into his mind for any sort of recollection, and then it suddenly hits him.

  “Aunt Muriel’s summer home? But how do you—”

  “Dad used to check the place regularly when Muriel wasn’t staying there. But she stopped using it as her summer home years ago—just before my seventh year to be exact—and I’ve been in charge of making sure the place is alright ever since. ”

  “Okay…so, what? Did you borrow the place for a weekend?”

  Bill’s face falls slightly at Ron’s question and the twins stifle a groan. “Wow, Ron, way to ruin it.” George scolds.

  “I wasn’t trying to!” he defends. “It’s just—it was obvious…” 

  Bill doesn’t seem phased, though, as he continues. “Well, yeah. And since then, I’ve passed the key on to Charlie, Percy, and the twins a couple weeks before their seventh year starts at Hogwarts too. Now it’s your turn.”

  “Brilliant!” Ron reaches his hand out to take the key, but then hesitates. His eyes narrow slightly as he peers between his brothers. “What’s the catch?”

  “No catch,” Bill reassures. “You can have the place for the weekend. Just make sure it’s cleaned up before you leave. And I don’t care who you invite as long as you’ve got a good alibi.”

  “Right. Yeah.” Ron takes the key when Bill thrusts it toward him. 

  The wheels begin to turn, formulating a plan in his mind. Obviously, he wants to invite his dorm-mates. They could hang out on the beach and he knows Seamus would be able to hook them up with Firewhiskey. It could be the ultimate guys weekend. Kind of like the ones they used to have when they were younger before Seamus started chasing girls and he and Harry got wrapped up with Quidditch.

  But then he thinks about how Percy supposedly took advantage of the space and—well, if he’s being honest with himself, he’d love to find a way to hang out with Hermione one-on-one. Maybe it would be the kick in the pants he needs to finally take the plunge and ask her out.

  Who says you can’t do both?

  Both…now there’s an idea. But before he can ruminate on it anymore, Fred interrupts his thoughts. 

  “Great, now if we’re all set here, let’s get out of this steambox.” He pushes past Ron to open the door.

  George follows. “I’ll go find Gin so she doesn’t try to hex our bollocks off for leaving her out.”

  Dammit. Ginny.

  She’s going to be so pissed if he leaves her out, but as is the tradition, Ron isn’t sure he should tell her. Besides, is it so wrong to have a weekend for just him and his friends without her? Harry’ll understand too, right?

  Eh, whatever. He’ll figure it out later. For now, he’ll enjoy an afternoon of Quidditch just like the old times, and later, when Harry comes for dinner, he’ll figure out exactly what his weekend with the key to Shell Cottage will hold.

[ktb90s]

I'm getting anxious for the season finale of the Buccaneers. This show started slow but got good as the episodes went on. There's so much I want. I need more seasons.

This show is like Bridgerton, the Gilded Age, Dickinson, and Reign (I only compare it to Reign because of 5 young women in a different country plus the contemporary music in a period show).

I love Conchita and Richard. I love Honoria and Mabel. Lizzie deserves all the best. Ginny... every time she's on, this is my reaction:

But I do think and hope she will come to her senses and give Tom Felton Wannabe (not the actor, the character) a cold meal of revenge.

Nan, Guy, and Theo: I actually want a throuple. I like her with both. I like Guy's and Theo's friendship. They do have love and respect for one another. The series of events and circumstances just sucked.

I'm stunned by the reveal of Richard and Miss Testvalley and even more with his mum.

Mrs St. George also deserves the best. F- her soon-to-be ex-husband.

[xxmarcxline]

003 - THE LIGHT OF FREEDOM ON MY FACE - “enchanted!”

Pairing: Edmund Pevensie x Wolfstar!Daughter!Reader

ENCHANTED MASTERLIST!

By no means do I support R*wling’s biased views! This profile is meant to be a safe space promoting escapism <3

TW: none ( although, please feel free to message me if you believe i missed some!! )

THE FLYING CAR BEGAN ITS DESCENT, and soon enough, you were able to catch a glimpse of a dark patchwork of fields and clumps of trees.

“We’re a little way outside the village,” says George. “Ottery St. Catchpole.”

The edge of the brilliant red sun was now gleaming through the trees, its radiance, Harry found, reflected your own as you grinned at the familiar sight of the Weasleys’ residence.

“Touchdown!” said Fred as, with a slight bump, you landed — a tumbledown garage in a small yard to your right, Harry looking out for the first time at Ron's house.

In all truthfulness, it was run-down, for lack of better term. The structure appeared unreliable at best, as though originally a large stone pigpen, but renovated to fit extra rooms and reach several stories high. It had been so crooked, staggering like the lightning-shaped scar on your friend’s forehead; however, like the mark etching his skin, magic had built and kept it ebbed stubbornly along the grassy surface.

Four or five chimneys were perched on top of the red roof. A lopsided sign was stuck in the ground near the entrance reading, ‘THE BURROW’. Around the front door lay a jumble of rubber boots and a very rusty cauldron. Several fat brown chickens were pecking their way around the yard.

“It's not much,” said Ron, rubbing a self-conscious hand along his forearm. He looked around the wooden walls of his home in uncertainty, just as he had when you first came over — a subconscious sign of his insecurity.

“It’s brilliant,” Harry was quick to react happily, thinking of Number 4 Privet Drive and the horrors he associated with its pale, perfected walls.

“It’s nothing short of wonderful,” you followed, smiling at the three brothers, meeting their silent gazes. As you exited the vehicle, the sun’s warm rays cast upon you, moving silently as your shadows crept towards the door.

“Now, we'll go upstairs really quietly,” said Fred, throwing a cautious glance at his surroundings, “and wait for Mum to call us for breakfast.”

He turns to face you and his younger brother, “Then, you lot come bounding downstairs, Ron going, ‘Mum, look who turned up in the night!’ and she'll be all pleased to see you and Harry, and no one needs ever know we flew the car.”

You raised an unimpressed brow at their careless grins. There were so many ways this could go wrong. . . for them. But you were never one for wiping off the twins’ smiles, no matter how stupidly aggravating their cheshire grins could be.

“Right,” agreed Ron, nodding his head in full agreement. He doesn’t give you a second glance as you go, guiding Bowie atop your shoulder. “You know your way to Ginny’s room, I’m sure. Now come on, Harry, I sleep at the top—”

Harry found it odd how his friend simply stopped, going a nasty green in complexion. Meanwhile, you exuded the opposite reaction, grinning goofily and waving madly, gaze set out the kitchen window. His eyes followed yours, blowing wide as he spotted Mrs. Wesley marching across the yard. Chickens scattered, Bowie took cover behind your hair, and for a short, plump, kind-faced woman, Harry found it remarkable how much she looked like a saber-toothed tiger.

“Ah,” muttered Fred.

“Oh, dear,” mumbled George.

“‘Ello, Molly!” you exclaimed shamelessly as Ron gulped. He appeared close to tears, you mused. How funny.

All of the above were telltale signs of the trouble you five were undoubtedly in, and if Harry had known any better, he would have taken off running and not looked back. But he didn’t, a stupid decision on his part, if Bowie were to say so himself. Mrs. Weasley came to a halt before the lot of you, her hands on her hips, staring from one guilty face to the next (then there was you, a smile peeking through her tough exterior for a brief moment). She was wearing a flowered apron with a wand sticking out of her pocket.

“Morning, Mum,” said George, grinning in what he believed to be a jaunty, award-winning means while you and Fred withheld a snigger.

“Where have you been?”

“Have you any idea how worried I've been?” said Mrs. Weasley in a deadly whisper.

“Sorry, Mum, but see, we had to—”

All three of Mrs. Weasley’s children towered over her, yet simultaneously, they cowered as her rage befell them.

“Beds empty! No note! Car gone — could have crashed — out of my mind with worry — did you care? — never, as long as I’ve lived — you wait until your father gets home, we never had trouble like this from Bill or Charlie or Percy —”

“Perfect Percy,” muttered Fred bitterly.

“YOU COULD DO WITH TAKING A LEAF OUT OF PERCY’S BOOK!” yelled Mrs. Weasley, prodding a finger in Fred’s chest as her voice rose an octave higher. At that, even you flinched, taken aback. “You could have died, you could have been seen, you could have lost your father his job —”

“They were starving him, Mum!” You were unsure how you felt about your friend speaking up. But you were all for liberation, so, nonetheless of your conflict, you internally cheered him on. “They put bars on his window!”

“Well, you best hope I don’t put bars on your window, Ronald Weasley.”

You loved Molly, you really did. But she had the ill temper of a mad dragon, burning fierce and easily triggered. You consider yourself lucky to be receiving special treatment from the woman — saving you the need to fear being on the wrong end of her fury.

It seemed to go on for hours. You had attempted to ease the boys of her full attention a good few times, although Mrs. Weasley had no intention of cutting her lecture short, shouting herself hoarse before she turned on the pair of you.

While Harry backed away on impulse, Bowie returned to the comforts of your pocket. Godric knows how greatly he fears the woman.

“Oh, darlings!” she beams, her deep frown fixing into a welcoming grin, “How wonderful it is to see you both! Come in and have some breakfast!”

You needn’t hear any further invitation before joining the family for a meal.

Long story short, life at The Burrow had been all but ordinary. Every day, you woke to the sound of small explosions from Fred and George’s room — having to comfort Bowie each waking moment —, and every night, you were kept up by the incessant racket of the ghoul in the attic. The howling creature was a pitiful thing. But your patience could only take so much, wearing thinner every time it had interrupted you and Bowie’s beauty sleep.

With summer coming to an end, it wasn’t long before you heard from Hogwarts again. It had been a sunny morning about a week after you had been welcomed into the Weasley residence. You were at the kitchen table, seated by Ginny Weasley (she always looked forward to your company, eagerly offering to trade all her brothers to gain you as a sister) when you heard the boys thundering down for breakfast.

You feigned ignorance as the younger girl stiffened up beside you, taken by amusement with how she fawned over Harry and the oh-so-holy grounds he walked on. You saw her pupils dilate into cartoon hearts, you swore. And as one would in a cartoon, her admiration blinded her from all else — including her bowl of porridge, until she knocked it to the ground with a loud clatter.

You sent Bowie a silencing look as he chittered merrily, poking fun at the mortified Ginny whose face glowed like the setting sun. Meanwhile, Harry, pretending he hadn’t noticed such interactions, sat down and took the toast Mrs Weasley had offered him.

“Letters from school,” uttered Mr Wesley, passing you identical envelopes of yellow parchment, addressed in green ink. “Dumbledore already knows you’re here, [Y/N], Harry — doesn’t miss a trick, that man. You’ve got them too,” he added as the twins ambled in, their hair askew, still in their pajamas.

For a few minutes, there was silence as you all read your letters. It was the usual, come to King’s Cross on September the first, the need for school supplies, and finally, there was a list of the new books you would need for the coming year.

‘Second-year students will require:

The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 by Miranda Goshawk

Break with a Banshee by Gilderoy Lockhart

Gadding with Ghouls by Gilderoy Lockhart

Holidays with Hags by Gilderoy Lockhart

Travels with Trolls by Gilderoy Lockhart

Voyages with Vampires by Gilderoy Lockhart

Wanderings with Werewolves by Gilderoy Lockhart

Year with the Yeti by Gilderoy Lockhart’

It was ghastly.

The man was one your father had spoken endlessly about, and not in the best sense. Upon every glimpse of his books the pair of you had encountered, his jaw would tick and he would give a subtle eye roll — one only you were trained well enough to see. He would go on about how Lockhart had gone to school with him, and how the Ravenclaw was most undeserving of his affiliations with the good house and his recent fame.

He was a freeloader, a credit-grabber. He would ask Remus to tutor him, and idiotically enough, he was able to provide the younger boy with the answers to his assignments, and all he would do was rephrase and reconstruct the wording. It was quite brilliant, yes, but it irked Remus to this day.

With that in mind, you couldn’t contain the grimace at the sight of that list. There was no way you would support his career by purchasing his books. No way in the seven bloody rings of hell.

Bowie, sensing your displeasure, was quick to attack the ink along the parchment, crossing every trace of Gilderoy’s name until it was but messy scrawls along ruined parchment. He made sure to keep the rest of it intact, however, that thoughtful beanpole.

Meanwhile, Fred, who took quite longer to finish reading his list, went to peer over at yours, eyes widening as he caught sight of the shredded patches. He instead turns to Harry’s. “You’ve been told to get all Lockhart’s books, too!” he said. “The new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher must be a fan – bet it’s a witch.”

At this point, Fred caught his mother’s eye and quickly busied himself with the marmalade.

“Or perhaps a fool. . .” you lowly muttered to yourself, wincing as you caught sight of Mrs Weasley’s tattered book displayed on one of the countertops. You’d momentarily forgotten you were in the company of a die-hard fan. And a fierce one, at that.

“That lot won’t come cheap,” said George, with a quick look at his parents. “Lockhart’s books are really expensive. . .”

“Well, we’ll manage,” said Mrs Weasley, but she looked worried. “I expect we’ll be able to pick up a lot of Ginny’s things secondhand.”

Just then, Percy walked back in. He was already dressed, his Hogwarts prefect badge pinned to his knitted top.

“Morning, all,” said Percy briskly. “Lovely day.”

It was a wonder how he got up and ready for the day so early in the morning. You may have awoken earlier than him, but you were by no means ready to start the day. Your hair was quite a mess, and you were still in your knitted sweater and comfy pajamas. Most often, you would be able to start your day early. But today was not one of those days. Rather, any day at The Burrow was not one of those days.

He sat down in the only remaining chair but lept up again almost immediately, pulling from underneath him a molting, grey feather duster – at least, that was what the pair of you (Bowie and yourself. . . plus Harry) thought it was until you saw that it was breathing.

“Errol!” said Ron, taking the limp owl from Percy and extracting a letter from under its wing. “Finally – he’s got Hermione’s answer. I wrote to her saying we were going to try and rescue you from the Dursleys.”

He carried Errol to a perch by the back door and tried to stand him on it, but Errol flopped straight off again so you cringed as the thud echoed loudly in the silence, and despite Bowie’s defiance, you went to pick the poor creature up and balance it on its two left feet. The bloody creature had no sense of balance left — well, if it had any to begin with. Laying him on the draining board, you overheard Ron muttering, “Pathetic,” in much dismay.

Meanwhile, from over by the dining area, Harry admired your care for the rugged creature. He couldn’t contain the small smile that erupted his expression, admiring the gentleness of your gaze despite telling the poor creature off.

Whilst he paid attention to you, Ron made haste, ripping open Hermione’s letter, its contents spilling out, and read her long-awaited message aloud:

Dear Ron, [Y/N], and Harry if you’re there,

I hope everything went all right and that Harry is OK and that you both didn’t do anything illegal to get him out, [Y/N], Ron, because that would get Harry into trouble, too. You both know how often [Y/N] gets injured, especially on the ventures that lack my assistance.

The majority, if not all your days as a first-year (that was an exaggeration, but it certainly felt like it) were spent wallowing (healing) on the second bed of the dull, cramped, sullen hospital wing. (Okay, that was yet again an exaggeration. It was clean and spacious enough, and well-kept, and Madam Pomfrey ensured it to remain as such. But by Godric’s beard, did it get tiring — its four walls became your home at some point or another. But at least, the madam was a good gossip, keeping you entertained during your stays.)

There was that one time a troll had knocked you against the bathroom wall, that “so-so” injury you sustained during that one quidditch match (“A broken arm is by no means mediocre, Ms. Black-Lupin!” you could hear Minnie’s yells echoing from a distant memory), those boils you’d gained from that one Potions class, that one encounter with Lord Volde— You cringed at the growing list.

Nonetheless, I’ve been really worried, and if Harry is all right, will you please let me know at once, but perhaps it would be better if you used a different owl, might I suggest Hermes, or perhaps Hedwig, because I think another delivery might finish this one off.

I’m very busy with schoolwork, of course – “How can she be?” said Ron in horror. “We’re on holiday!” – and we’re going to London next Wednesday to buy my new books. Why don’t we meet in Diagon Alley?

Let me know what’s happening as soon as you can, love from Hermione.

“Well, that fits in nicely, we can go and get all your things then, too,” said Mrs Weasley, starting to clear the table. “What’re you all up to today?”

Mrs Weasley woke the lot of you bright and early the following Wednesday. After a quick half-a-dozen eggs and bacon sandwich, you pulled on your coats and Molly took a flowerpot off the kitchen mantelpiece and peered inside.

“We’re running low, Arthur,” she sighed. “We’ll have to buy some more today. . . ah, well, guests first! After you, [Y/N], dear! Your father must be expecting you.”

And indeed he was. The pair of you had been exchanging letters almost daily throughout your stay at the Weasleys and agreed to meet at the Leaky Cauldron before heading off to buy your supplies. While some notes exchanged your plans for today’s awaited reunion, others contained sweet nothings and greetings, and others bore more pressing matters, such as your father’s well-being after the previous full moon.

Poor Moony had to deal with its aftermaths on his own this time around. . . You could only hope that your friends (the little critters that resided in the forest and those that took permanent residence in your room) were enough company to bring him some semblance of comfort while you and Bowie were away.

“I’ll meet you lot at Flourish and Blotts, yeah?” you turned to your friends for a moment, ignoring the puzzled gaze of Harry as Mrs Weasley offered you the flowerpot. You only smiled as he blinked in confusion, taking a pinch of glittering powder from the clay pot, stepping up to the fire, and casting the powder into the flames. You only faintly heard him ask about the wonders of the Floo network when a large emerald flame swallowed you whole upon exclaiming, “Diagon Alley!” and vanishing.

Remus had been looking forward to this day from the moment he waved you goodbye. It had been a quiet two weeks without your company, and he knew that it would be an even lengthier rest of the year with you off at Hogwarts.

There was something in his gut telling him that this year would be much unlike the last. Not in the sense that he would never see you again, but that. . . his yearning for you, his only daughter, would be strengthened twice fold. That something peculiar, even beyond Lord Voldemort’s reappearance the previous year, would occur.

Thus, he wished to make the most of the little time you had left before the school year began and planned to make it as memorable — if not more — than the last.

If only your (other) father were here to help him with that. After all, despite everything that went wrong, it was undeniable that Sirius Black loved his daughter endlessly. Once, the man compared it (his love) to the galaxy. Infinite and unmistakably immense. Neverending.

Your father always said he “loved you all the way from the moon, and to Saturn.” Always, he would say he loved you even more than that, but, like Saturn’s rings, his love for you orbited his entire world. It was his entire world.

But then again, if that truly was the case, why did he leave? Why did he betray their friends? Although, Remus always made sure to leave that bit out of your bedtime tales.

Every night, as you grew up, unlike most parents who read their kids fairy tales and books, he would recount the stories that consumed his youth. He would recall his days at Hogwarts, the escapades that filled the four marauders’ nights, and the laughter that filled their halls by day.

As much as he despised the love of his life for betraying you both as he did, for depriving your childhood of any sense of normalcy, he couldn’t bear to tell you such a thing. That your father, who claimed to love you so, had left you behind to serve the dark lord. That in his madness, he got himself sentenced to life in Azkaban, never to be seen again. Or so he could only hope.

His secrecy did little to shield you from the rest of the world, however. It was inevitable that you learn of what happened (or what was said to have happened), just as it was inevitable to recognize the fear, pity, and distaste in some passerby’s eyes. But you were strong. You did not let that deter you, if not for your own sake, then for your father’s, who worked tirelessly to provide for you both.

Remus, righteous as he was, was always too ashamed to take anything from the Black family vault, nor from Sirius’s own savings (which contained more than enough, mind you). Although, he did allow himself to use some of the latter to send you to school. He at least owed you that.

The rest, however, and all that you both spent as you walked the cobblestone path of Diagon Alley, he took from his own pocket. He enjoyed spending — so long as it meant seeing those light blue streaks highlight your head of hair.

He grinned as you shared a cup of butterbeer brittles from Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour, (though, thanks to his familiarity with the owner, received it with a discount), sniggered as you nearly tripped, having stepped on a cracked stone, and hid a scowl as you joyously greeted one of the subjects of a pile of your letters home from the previous year.

Cedric Diggory knew not what he did to receive a strained handshake from your father, but he shook it off with a nervous smile as you waved him goodbye.

Striding down the rest of Diagonal Alley with an occasional smile, wink, and wave (you were quite popular amongst your peers, you learned the previous year), you caught a glimpse of a shop or two that caught your fancy. There was Ollivander’s Wand Shop, where you’d received your wand (the old man noted it a peculiarity, albeit you hadn’t a clue why), then there was Quality Quidditch Supplies, where you made your rounds, though exited with nothing.

Finally, you reached Flourish and Blotts, where you were immediately tackled into a hug.

Hermione Granger, hair bushy as ever, had weaved through the crowd to greet you after a summer away from one another. You missed each other greatly, yes, but you seem to have underestimated just how much.

“Oh, [Y/N], how I missed you!” Exhibit A.

“‘Mione, oh, love of my life! You haven’t a clue how I missed you! In fact, the parchments of my notebook are drowning in inked sonnets of just how much!” Exhibit B.

“You’re exaggerating,” she hid a grin behind a shake of her head.

“Oh, but I’m really not,” you blinked innocently in reply. Indeed, you really weren’t.

In your trunk was a notebook filled with little things you had noticed about your best friend — how her eyes set alight when she reached certain parts of her books, how she straightened in her seat and furrowed her brows upon a particularly page-turning plot twist. You noticed it all, and being the poet daughter of a Black and Remus Lupin, you turned these simple moments into words, etching them along the pages of your notebook, and on occasion, annotating them by particularly relevant lines of your books.

Truth be told, there was once a time you mistook your affections for her to be beyond platonic. You thought, at some point or another, that Hermione Granger would be the person you would love silently for the rest of your life. But of course, you were only twelve. What could you have known about love?

Not far later, you traded those faux butterflies with the realization and contentment of a sister. That was what you were to Hermione Granger, and what you learned, she truly was to you.

That didn’t stop you from admiring the beauty in her simplicity, however. Rather, you carried on, albeit, now also noticing the others that composed her background. You would smile wider upon Blaise and Theo’s bickering, giggle (though you despised the word) more heartily at the tickle of Bowie’s movements, and drown in grief, albeit momentarily, as professors spoke of your likeness to your fathers, once believing you to be out of earshot.

But that was nothing. You would shrug it off after a moment or two.

Like then, you went on with the remainder of the day. After a short reunion with your friends, Blaise and Theo, as well as a mini meet-and-greet with your father’s favorite schoolmate (he wished to strangle the man in his place), you ran into a bit of trouble with your not-so-distant relatives, the Malfoys.

Lucius was pretentious as ever, taunting Arthur Weasley and your father for their blood and financial status, while his spawn, Draco, was unbearable as the previous year. He, like his father, simply had to taunt Harry with every waking moment, and in doing so, only managed to piss off the rest of his company, and in particular, a temperamental metamorphmagus.

In later retellings and biographies of your life, some would state that it was accidental magic on your part that dropped a particularly heavy book atop Malfoy Senior’s head. Meanwhile, others would say you knew exactly what you were doing, and performed some degree of wandless magic or that you had simply thrown it with your fantastic, Quidditch Chaser aim.

You couldn’t be bothered to correct any of them.

It wasn’t long before dusk made its return, the sun slowly setting to signify the day’s end. Exchanging brief promises of “see you later”s and meetings at the train, you eventually parted ways, gripping your father’s hand as you headed in the direction you first came.

It wasn’t long before you disappeared into the crowd, leaving behind a proud set of twins, a starstruck Ginny, a content Ron and Hermione, and a wistful Harry.

The boy was smiling to himself again, staring at the grounds you once stood. It was a strange, dopey-looking smile that left Hermione amusedly rolling her eyes at her friend.

“A sickle for your thoughts?” she asked him, breaking him out of his [Y/N]-induced daze.

“What?” he could only stammer in response, blinking up at Hermione in confusion.

“I see the way you look at her, Harry,” Her tone was almost teasing as she smiled at him. “Don’t worry though. You have plenty of time to win her over.”

“I’m sure of it.”

He couldn’t be bothered to deny her insinuations. After all, it was useless to argue against Hermione — she wasn’t even wrong to begin with. She never was.

Harry took comfort in her words. She was right. He had more than enough time to win over your affections. It couldn’t be that difficult — if Cedric Diggory and Oliver Wood could do it within a year, why couldn’t he? And he had seven!

What could possibly prevent two best friends from becoming more than that?

Meanwhile, as night came upon London, a young boy of the name Edmund Pevensie, gazed out his windowsill in contemplation.

Earlier that day, he had overheard his parents speaking of sending him, alongside his four siblings to a family friend — some professor, if he remembers correctly. He recalls his mother fretting, expressing her worries about the four of them, when they heard a distant creek along the wood of the floor.

They retreated into their room, and somehow, Edmund couldn’t make out a sound.

The rest of the night, he was left to worry, silently and to himself, of whatever was to await them in the coming days.

TAG LIST 🏷️

@mythicalmo @edmundstxrch @jjsblueberry @v1ckycheesue

( Leave a comment if you wish to be added to future tag lists ^^ )

[sitp-recs]

Happy birthday to the one and only @writcraft! I know you probably feel this year hasn’t been as productive as you’d like fandom-wise, so this is both a reminder and a token of appreciation, a short rec list that hopes to highlight a little bit of your immense contribution to fandom. This is ofc 100% self-indulgent and my picks might be a bit too obvious - I doubt that anyone who’s been around for a while hasn’t heard of these classics before, but those who are new to the fandom (or just new to Writ’s works - I’m so jealous!) might enjoy this “starter pack” with my personal selection of must-reads.

There’s a little bit of everything: Drarry, Snarry, femslash, dark fic, kinky fic, angst with a happy ending, romcom, hurt/comfort. No matter the tone or trope, they’re not only perfectly thought out and executed but they also deliver profound human experiences that resonates within, and thought-provoking explorations of romance, queerness and hope. I have often wondered how Writ could be so prolific over the years, always impressing me with such flawless depth of characterization across different ships. Now I realize this comes from the amount of passion and research they pour into their work. Writ commits to fandom - and to writing - both intellectually and emotionally, bringing together their creative, fannish, militant and intellectual sides like nobody else can do. This combination breathes life and heart into every love story they create, making them all bright and unique, inspiring universal emotions while remaining deeply personal.

Writ, I cannot thank you enough for being such a kind, witty and welcoming friend, always up to discuss fandom meta, gritty fic plots, old and new ship obsessions, dog parenting, queer & pop culture references! I learn so much from you and it’s a privilege (and a delight) to have someone to share both silly and deep, insightful convos with. Becoming friends with you - an author I’ve been admiring and looking up to for so many years now - still feels a bit surreal but it’s easily one of the best parts of 2022/2023 for me. I hope you enjoy your day to the fullest, and have an amazing time celebrating with yours. Happy birthday my friend! 💜

🎵 True Colors (E, 6k) - Harry/Teddy

Teddy spent the last year running away from his feelings for Harry. Now it’s time to come home.

🧵 Independent Love Song (E, 6k) - Ginny/Millie

Millicent Bulstrode is a tailor and Ginny is losing her mind over a woman in a tweed blazer and burgundy brogues.

🪞 Doppelganger (M, 7k) - Drarry, Romione

It was just a silly dare, but one ill-advised trip into the Forbidden Forest changes Harry’s life forever.

🎼 Hopelessly Devoted To You (E, 10k) - Harry/George

Harry and George watch a lot of musicals and accidentally fall in love.

🗞️ Potterzine (E, 11k) - Snarry

When Severus Snape finds a fanzine with a picture of Professor Potter in a compromising position with Draco Malfoy on the cover, he confronts Potter about the offending literature.

🪩 An Aching Soul (M, 14k) - Drarry

Draco Malfoy escapes to the Muggle world to avoid his parents, memories of the war and Harry Potter. However, some things prove harder to escape than others as Draco realises when his favourite Muggle haunt is rudely invaded by a post-war Harry who is struggling to cope with grief, growing up and the battle with his inner demons.

⛓️ Dirty Little Secret (E, 22k) - Drarry

When someone threatens Harry’s life, Kingsley decides to send him to a safe house with only Draco Malfoy for company. As the two men are forced together, memories of the past resurface and secrets are discovered.

🥐 A Life Worth Remembering (E, 23k) - Drarry + Snape

Severus Snape wakes in St Mungo’s, to discover that a potions accident has wiped the last forty years from his body and mind. Just twenty-five years old, Severus is reliant on Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, now both in their forties, to help him fill in the missing decades.

🚘 Harry Potter and The Bisexual Awakening (E, 23k) - Drarry

Harry is perfectly content being single, heterosexual and living in Godric's Hollow with his very clingy rescue dog, Snitch. When Draco Malfoy turns up on Harry's doorstep demanding that Harry teach him how to drive, things quickly become a lot more complicated.

⌛️ Collapse Amongst the Dying Stars (M, 26k) - Drarry

After the final battle nothing is quite as Harry expected. Death Eaters remain unaccounted for, Malfoy is in prison and there is something rotten in Azkaban.

💋 The Beating of This Fragile Heart (E, 33k) - Snarry

After the war, the last thing Severus Snape needs is the memory of a fleeting wartime kiss and a very persistent Harry Potter thwarting his plans to live a peaceful and solitary life.

📸 Expecto Patronum (E, 35k) - Drarry

As Draco Malfoy negotiates his feelings for the wizarding world's brightest star, he becomes increasingly attached to Harry and unravels the secrets he keeps hidden from the rest of the world.

🗽How We Were Warriors (E, 51k) - Snarry

A homophobic attack in London’s Soho brings Harry to New York City to discover more about the past. Still haunted by love and loss in the eighties, Severus just wants to forget.

🥃 The Beauty of Thestrals and Other Unseen Things (E, 63k) - Drarry

Harry has terrific friends, an amazing girlfriend and his job as Head Auror enables him to work on challenging cases and Ministry reform. He just wishes he could work out why he’s been so out of sorts.

🏳️‍🌈 Little Compton Street verse (E, 150k) - Drarry, Sirius/James, Minerva/Will

Draco is lonely, Harry hates the press and it won’t stop raining in London. Harry discovers a magical street that’s close to disappearing forever and Draco realises he’s one rainy night in Soho away from finding everything he’s been searching for.

[beloved-child-of-the-house]

listen the whole golden trio is Black 🤷🏽‍♂️

like way back when I first read the books as a child I was like oh clearly Hermione is Black? In my head she looked just like me! Fluffy brown hair, big teeth, chubby. And something about her anxiety around school says Black girl with overbearing parents to me. Or maybe more like. A Black girl whose parents have drilled into her that the whole world is going to be holding her at an insanely high standard so she better be ready to perform and she better be On all the time!

And then re-reading as an adult, it just makes sense for Harry to be Black just based on the the way people respond to him. Like he’s so sweet and considerate and polite but his whole neighborhood believes he goes to St. Brutus’ Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys? The comments about his hair? The way he’s scapegoated by the Dursleys? They act like there’s something visible about him that marks him out as being unworthy to the extent that it’s like. Humiliating to be associated with him. The way Petunia was in touch with Lily enough to send her Christmas presents but barely knows the name of her husband and son (because she was ashamed that her sister married a Black man and had a Black son?)That ALL sounds like racism to me?

The Weasleys are probably the hardest sell BUT I do know a family of freckly redheads who are Black and their dynamic as a family is just so fascinating and delicious if they’re Black. Like the whole Percy situation 🤌🏽 Black Fred and George?? Black Ginny Weasley??? Be still my beating heart!!! Black Ron Weasley 🥺🥺🥺 omg Black Molly Weasley with her clock that tells her where her family is and if they’re safe???