#golden trio ocs

[ms-snape]

Jealous severus x reader? maybe involving lockheart

Title: Someone Like Me?

Warning: Angst, jealous severus, lockhart

Words Count: 3000+

Masterlist

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The air in the Hogwarts greenhouse was thick with the scent of soil and herbs as Y/N moved gently through the rows of plants. She had always found comfort here, among the vibrant greenery and the soft hum of magical growth. Herbology was her sanctuary, and each day she poured her heart into tending to the rare plants and teaching her students how to care for them with the same tenderness.

It was peaceful, or at least, it had been until recently.

As of late, her tranquility had been invaded by a certain new presence at the school—Gilderoy Lockhart, the newly appointed Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. His arrival had caused quite the stir, especially among the female students and even some of the staff, but for Y/N, his constant attention was becoming more than a little uncomfortable.

At first, she had thought it was just harmless friendliness. Lockhart had swept into her greenhouse on the first week of term, his toothy smile gleaming as brightly as the medals on his robes.

"My dear Professor Y/N!" he had exclaimed, clasping his hands together in a gesture that was all too theatrical. "I must say, you have the most enchanting little space here! It’s no wonder the students speak so highly of you."

Y/N had blushed, embarrassed by the attention, and murmured something about the plants deserving the praise, not her. Lockhart, however, had waved away her modesty with a laugh that echoed too loudly in the intimate confines of the greenhouse.

"Nonsense, nonsense! I can see that you put as much care into your work as I do into my own," he said, leaning in just a little too close. "You and I, we have much in common, I think."

She had smiled politely, trying not to shrink under his overly familiar presence. She wasn’t used to people being so forward with her. It wasn’t that she was oblivious—Y/N had noticed Lockhart’s flirtations—but she simply didn’t know how to respond. Confrontation wasn’t in her nature, and she didn’t want to create awkwardness among the staff. So, she had smiled, and tried to extricate herself from his attention as gracefully as she could.

But it didn’t stop there.

Lockhart’s visits to the greenhouse became more frequent. He would find reasons to come by during her lessons, interrupting her with flamboyant anecdotes about his supposed adventures. The students would giggle or roll their eyes, but Y/N found herself growing more and more uneasy. His compliments had become more pointed, more personal, always accompanied by a lingering touch on her arm or a too-familiar smile.

"Professor Y/N," Lockhart had said one afternoon, as he appeared at her greenhouse once more, his robes billowing dramatically behind him. "I was just telling the Headmaster how much we make the perfect team, you and I. Perhaps we should write a book together! Herbs and Heroics, don’t you think? It would sell like that." He snapped his fingers, leaning toward her again.

Y/N’s discomfort had risen, her hands twisting nervously around a sprig of dittany. "I—I’m really not a writer, Professor Lockhart. I don’t think—"

"Nonsense!" he interrupted, his tone dripping with charm. "With your knowledge of plants and my experience, we’d make quite the pair. Don’t you think?"

His hand brushed her shoulder as he spoke, and Y/N stiffened slightly. She gave a weak smile, hoping he’d take the hint, but once again, she found herself trapped by her own politeness. She didn’t want to upset him, didn’t want to cause a scene, but Merlin, how she wished he would leave her alone.

Across the castle, in the dimly lit Potions classroom, Severus Snape stood over a cauldron, stirring the mixture with precise movements, though his mind was far from the task at hand.

For weeks now, he had been watching. Watching as Lockhart fawned over Y/N, as he invaded her personal space with that nauseating smile and those absurd stories. It was infuriating. Severus had always been protective of Y/N—more than he would ever admit. They had worked together for years now, and though their relationship had never ventured beyond professional, he had long harbored feelings for her that he kept buried deep inside.

He had always told himself that Y/N deserved better than him, better than someone as broken and cold as he was. She was kind, too kind for the likes of him. So, he had never acted on his feelings, content to watch from the sidelines, to enjoy the small moments when they shared quiet conversations about rare herbs or discussed the latest potions ingredients she had gathered for him.

But now, with Lockhart constantly hovering around her, Severus found his resolve crumbling.

At first, he had tried to ignore it. Lockhart was a buffoon, and surely Y/N would see through his ridiculous posturing soon enough. But day after day, Severus watched as Lockhart showered her with attention, and worst of all, Y/N didn’t reject him. She didn’t push him away. She didn’t seem to be upset by his advances.

And that was what hurt the most.

Perhaps, Severus thought bitterly, she liked Lockhart’s attention. Perhaps she enjoyed the compliments, the flirtation. Why wouldn’t she? Lockhart was everything Severus wasn’t—charming, outgoing, and confident. And while Severus could see through the man’s facade, perhaps Y/N couldn’t.

Perhaps she was falling for him.

The thought sent a cold wave of pain through Severus, and he found himself withdrawing from Y/N more and more. It was easier that way. Easier to distance himself before he had to watch her fall into Lockhart’s arms. He started avoiding her, no longer lingering in the staffroom when she entered, no longer stopping by her greenhouse to ask for ingredients. He couldn’t bear it. Couldn’t bear to watch her be swept away by someone so unworthy of her, and yet… someone she seemed to be accepting.

Y/N had noticed the change almost immediately.

Severus was avoiding her.

For weeks now, he had been cold, distant, and she couldn’t understand why. She had always admired Severus, despite his stern demeanor and cutting remarks. There was something about him that intrigued her, something deeper, and over the years, she had come to value the rare moments when he let his guard down, even if just for a second.

But now, it was as if he had built a wall between them. She couldn’t even catch his eye in the hallways, and whenever she tried to speak to him, he dismissed her with a curt nod or a sharp word. It hurt more than she cared to admit. She missed him, missed their quiet conversations and the way he would surprise her with his vast knowledge of plants and potions.

At first, she thought she had done something to upset him, but no matter how many times she went over their last conversations, she couldn’t find anything wrong. It wasn’t until she saw the way Severus’s eyes flickered with something close to anger when he caught her speaking with Lockhart that she began to piece it together.

Could it be… jealousy?

The thought was almost too much to believe. Severus, jealous of Lockhart? The idea seemed absurd, and yet, the more she thought about it, the more sense it made. She had seen the way his expression darkened when Lockhart was near, the way his jaw clenched whenever the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor tried to engage her in conversation.

But if Severus was upset, he wasn’t going to tell her. He was too stubborn for that.

So, after weeks of being brushed aside, Y/N decided she needed to confront him. She couldn’t take the cold distance anymore, and if he was angry with her, she needed to know why.

One evening, after a particularly long day in the greenhouse, Y/N made her way down to the dungeons. She had seen Severus slip out of the Great Hall after dinner, his usual shadowy presence retreating into the depths of the castle. She followed him, her heart pounding in her chest with nerves, but she was determined to get answers.

She found him in his office, sitting behind his desk, a quill in hand as he scrawled something into a large, leather-bound book. He didn’t look up when she knocked softly on the doorframe.

"Severus," she said quietly, stepping into the room.

He didn’t respond at first, his eyes remaining fixed on the parchment before him.

"Severus," she repeated, a little more firmly.

With a sigh of irritation, he finally glanced up, his dark eyes cold and unreadable. "What do you want, Y/N?"

Y/N hesitated, her fingers twisting nervously together. "I… I need to know why you’ve been avoiding me."

Severus’s expression didn’t change. He set his quill down, leaning back in his chair with a look of cool indifference. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Yes, you do," Y/N pressed, stepping closer to his desk. "You’ve been avoiding me for weeks now, and I don’t understand why. Did I do something to upset you?"

He let out a harsh laugh, though there was no humor in it. "Upset me? No, Y/N, you didn’t upset me. I simply have no interest in wasting my time with someone like you."

The words hit her like a physical blow, and she took a step back, her eyes widening in hurt and confusion. "Someone like me? What does that mean?"

Severus’s gaze was sharp, his voice colder than she had ever heard it. "You know exactly what it means. I’ve seen the way you prance around with Lockhart, letting him fawn over you like some lovesick puppy. Clearly, you enjoy the attention."

Y/N’s heart clenched painfully in her chest. "I—Severus, it’s not like that. I don’t—"

But he cut her off, his words laced with bitterness. "Don’t insult my intelligence, Y/N. I’ve seen how you let him flirt with you, how you blush and smile like a schoolgirl..I don’t have time for someone like you. If you enjoy Lockhart’s company so much, then by all means, continue. But don’t expect me to waste my time on someone who can’t even see past his ridiculous charm."

Y/N felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes, the weight of his cruel words crushing her. She had never seen Severus like this, so angry, so hurt. She opened her mouth to speak, to defend herself, but the words wouldn’t come. All she could do was stand there, frozen in place, as Severus’s cold gaze bore into her.

When she finally found her voice, it was barely a whisper. "I never wanted his attention, Severus. I’ve only ever—"

"Enough," Severus snapped, standing abruptly and turning away from her. "I don’t want to hear it. If you wish to continue entertaining that fool, that’s your business. But I will not be part of it."

With that, he stormed out of the room, leaving Y/N standing there, her heart shattered and tears spilling down her cheeks. She had come for answers, but all she had found was pain.

The following days were a blur for Y/N. She avoided the staffroom, avoided Severus, and kept to herself in the greenhouse. She couldn’t stop replaying their conversation in her head, his harsh words echoing painfully in her mind. I simply have no interest in wasting my time with someone like you.

She hadn’t known it was possible to feel this hurt, this rejected. For the first time, she found herself dreading the start of each day, dreading the possibility of seeing Severus in the halls. The spark of happiness that usually came with her work had dimmed, replaced by a hollow sadness that seemed to follow her everywhere she went.

Even her students noticed the change in her demeanor, though they were too polite to mention it. She tried to hide her feelings, tried to put on a brave face, but it was difficult. Every time she passed Severus in the corridors, her heart ached with the memory of his words, and every time Lockhart made his usual visits to the greenhouse, she felt a wave of nausea rise in her throat.

It didn’t take long for Minerva McGonagall to notice.

One afternoon, as Y/N was tending to a bed of mandrakes, Minerva appeared at the door of the greenhouse, her sharp eyes studying Y/N with a knowing look.

"Y/N," she said softly, stepping into the room. "May I have a word?"

Y/N looked up, startled, and quickly wiped her hands on her apron. "Of course, Minerva."

Minerva approached her, her expression softening as she saw the sadness in Y/N’s eyes. "You’ve been rather quiet lately, my dear. Is everything all right?"

Y/N forced a smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. "I’m fine, just… busy."

Minerva didn’t seem convinced. She took a seat on one of the nearby benches, folding her hands in her lap as she spoke. "You’ve been avoiding the staffroom, and I can’t help but notice that you haven’t been your usual self. Is there something going on? Does it have to do with Severus?"

The mention of his name sent a sharp pang through Y/N’s chest, and she looked away, her hands trembling slightly as she fussed with the dirt on her fingertips.

"I… I don’t know," she admitted quietly. "I thought we were friends, but lately… I think I’ve upset him. He won’t talk to me anymore."

Minerva’s brow furrowed, concern flashing across her features. "I see. Severus can be… difficult, at times. But I know he holds you in high regard. It’s unlike him to act this way without reason."

Y/N let out a soft sigh, her voice tinged with sadness. "I don’t know what I did wrong. He said I was wasting his time, that he didn’t want to deal with me anymore. And now… now he won’t even look at me."

Minerva’s eyes softened, and she reached out to place a comforting hand on Y/N’s arm. "I don’t believe that’s true, my dear. Severus may not always show it, but he cares deeply for the people in his life. Whatever has caused this rift between you, I don’t believe it’s something you’ve done."

Y/N shook her head, her throat tightening with the weight of her emotions. "But he’s so angry with me. He thinks… he thinks I like Lockhart."

At the mention of Lockhart’s name, Minerva’s expression shifted into something closer to exasperation. "Lockhart? Merlin, that man has been more of a nuisance than I expected. But Severus should know better than to assume that you have any interest in him. He’s clearly projecting his own insecurities onto you."

Y/N blinked, surprised by Minerva’s words. "You think… you think Severus is jealous?"

Minerva smiled faintly, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "I do, Y/N. It’s quite obvious to those of us who know him well. Severus may not be the most forthcoming when it comes to his feelings, but it’s clear that he has feelings for you. He’s just too proud—and too afraid—to admit it."

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at Minerva’s words. Could it be true? Could Severus’s coldness and bitterness be a result of jealousy?

Minerva gave her a knowing look, standing up from the bench. "I suggest you talk to him, Y/N. Really talk to him. He may not make it easy, but I think you’ll find that he cares more than he lets on."

Severus paced his chambers, his mind a storm of conflicting emotions. He had hurt her—he knew that much. The look in her eyes when he had spoken those cruel words haunted him, and yet, he couldn’t stop the bitterness that had fueled his anger.

It was easier this way, he told himself. Easier to push her away before she had the chance to reject him. Easier to convince himself that she wanted someone else—someone like Lockhart—than to face the truth of his own feelings.

But the truth was becoming harder and harder to ignore.

There was a knock at the door, and Severus’s heart leapt into his throat when he saw Y/N standing there, her eyes red-rimmed but determined.

"Severus," she said, her voice soft but steady. "We need to talk."

He turned away from her, trying to compose himself, but the sight of her standing there, vulnerable and hurt, made his resolve crumble.

"Y/N, I—" He paused, his throat tightening with guilt. "I’m sorry."

She stepped inside, closing the door behind her. "I don’t understand, Severus. Why are you pushing me away? Why are you so angry with me?"

Severus closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. He couldn’t keep lying to her—not anymore.

"I’m not angry with you," he said finally, his voice low. "I’m angry with myself."

Y/N frowned, stepping closer. "What does that mean?"

Severus hesitated, his fingers curling into fists at his sides. He hated this—hated being vulnerable, hated exposing the raw, aching feelings that he had spent so long trying to bury. But he owed her the truth.

"I saw the way Lockhart was… pursuing you," Severus began, his voice tight. "And I thought… I thought you were enjoying it. That you wanted his attention. It hurt, Y/N. It hurt to think that you could fall for someone like him when…" He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

Y/N’s eyes softened with understanding. "When what, Severus?"

He met her gaze, his dark eyes filled with something raw and unspoken. "When I’ve been in love with you for years."

The words hung in the air between them, heavy and vulnerable. Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding in her chest.

"I never wanted his attention, Severus," she said softly, her voice trembling. "I never wanted anyone’s attention but yours."

Severus stared at her, stunned by her words. For a moment, he couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. And then, slowly, he closed the distance between them, his hand trembling slightly as he reached out to cup her cheek.

"I’m sorry," he whispered again, his voice thick with emotion. "I’m sorry for pushing you away. I’m sorry for hurting you."

Y/N smiled through her tears, leaning into his touch. "I forgive you, Severus."

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Severus allowed himself to hope.

[rainydayathogwarts]

neville longbottom smut

reader makes Neville cum in his pants at a party. warnings: dry humping, whimpering, public sex(?), swearing 0.9k+ wc

Your body sways to the music, the plastic cup in your hand spilling some of your drink onto your hand, but it only blends in with the shimmering glint of sweat on your skin. You're dancing with some girl you don't recognise, singing the words to a song at the top of your lungs. You look around, trying to spot your boyfriend in the crowd, to make sure he's not doing anything he shouldn't be, only to notice him sitting on an armchair next to the fireplace, his eyes already on you.

He meets your gaze and your body suddenly goes hot, despite the warmth from the alcohol that had already settled in. He was keeping an eye on you, butterbeer in hand, not focused on anything else. You grin, pushing your way through the dance floor until you finally stumble away from the crowd of sweaty bodies and into the more dispersed area of the busy common room. You giggle when you approach Neville, watching as his eyes run along you figure. You down the rest of your drink, putting the now empty cut next to what you assumed was the empty bottle butter beer Neville had already had. "You okay sweetheart?" He asks and you nod, shifting to stand between his legs.

He sits up straight to put his hands on the back of your thighs, pulling you slightly closer to him; the most affection he'd giving you tonight. He offers you a sip of butterbeer but you decline, watching as he brings his lips to the bottle, his adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallows, before putting the bottle aside. You bring a hand up to play with his hair as your hips start moving again, the other arm on his shoulder. You look down at the boy below you and sigh in pleasure as his hands start moving up and down your thighs.

His head leans on your lower stomach, his attention caught by the dancing bodies. You furrow your eyebrows, glancing over at the dance floor to look at all the girls in their tight dresses. You huff. The hand you have in his hair closes moderately into a fist and you tug it backwards slightly, making Neville look up at you, only to be met by your lips slamming down onto his. He moans loudly, his hands on your thighs moving so his arms can wrap around you.

His mouth immediately opens to welcome your tongue in and you put your weight onto him, pushing him back into the armchair as you climb onto him, your legs coming on either side of his thighs as you straddle him. Neville whimpers, the sound drowned by the music, his arms tightly wrapping themselves around your waist to pull you impossibly closer. And he does, dragging you across his lap so your panty-clad cunt grinds against his fully clothed dick.

You both moan into each other, and you feel your boyfriend's usually gentle hands travel down to your ass, roughly gripping it. You grind against Neville once more to see how comfortable he is with this, and he separates from the kiss to gasp for air, his mouth open in a silent moan. Your eyes scan the room, checking to see if you had attracted anyone's unwanted eyes, but your attention is brought back to Neville, who tugs your dress further down your thighs, having ridden up when you straddled him.

When you make eye contact with him again, his eyes are begging you to continue your movements and so is the tent in his pants. You push your hips down onto his and moan quietly, biting your lip. Neville's eyes widen and he looks around for a second before turning his attention back to you, a hand coming behind your neck to pull you into a kiss, the other one pushing your hips into his.

He gently humps his hips up into yours to encourage your movements, grunting as though he has never had your legs spread for him, and you dig your face into the crook of his neck, letting out a breathy moan. Your hot breath on his neck sends shivers down Neville's spine and he pants, leaning his head on your shoulder and looking down through the top of your dress. He whines, eyes widening at the sight of your tits, his hands immediately coming up to grope them. You let out a high pitched moan when he squeezes one of your perky nipple, hips bucking into his desperately, so that your pussy grinds right against the tent in his jeans, feeling the imprint of his cock against you.

Neville bites your shoulder to cover the loud whimpers that come out of him, hands gripping your thighs as he roughly bucks his hips into yours. That's when you feel the wetness on his jeans, this time not coming from you, and you grin proudly, pulling Neville into a kiss. He returns the kiss, still panting, his hands now softly caressing your sides. When you both separate from the kiss and Neville finally catches his breath, he says "How about we go upstairs and I can finish you off?"

[rottenherbs]

MASTERLIST

Updated (hopefully) after every post <3

// Requests Open! Request new pieces or the next chapter to any piece I have started 🤍//

Much love, Saige

Ron Weasley:

The Sorting Game

The Strong One

Flower Boy (NSFW)

Distracted and in Dismay

Fred Weasley:

Opposites Attract

Slumber

Just A Squib (pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3) (pt.4) (pt.5) (pt.6)

Hopeless crush! HC's

Sure Thing

Lover

Matchmaker (pt.2)

George Weasley

Stolen Sweater and Stolen Heart

Inebriated! G.W HeadCannons

Trouble Maker

A Weasley Holiday(pt.1) (pt.2)

Harry Potter:

Eager for each other (NSFW)

Lost and Found

Boyfriend! HC's

Taken Seriously

Love Language! HC’s

Hidden In Plain Sight

Rumors and Lies

Draco Malfoy:

A Promise Worth Keeping

Seating Arrangement (pt.1)

Seating Arrangement (pt.2)

Overprotective

Trouble In The Library

Swapping Secrets and Spit (NSFW)

“I will get him to smile again” (p.1) (p.2)

The Muggle Way

Rest

The Hound

Hermione Granger

Coming soon <3

Neville Longbottom:

From Night One

Cedric Diggory

Coming soon <3

[onddau]

Hermione, The Wizard 🧙 (HP x DnD AU)

[kinzis-writing]

Better than Revenge | M.R [4]

It had been almost two years since Y/N and Mattheo had been best friends. Y/N had decided that it was time to face her past and deal with whatever consequences would follow.

This chapter will probably contain a lot of Soft! Mattheo, which is ooc but i hope you enjoy.

Pairing(s): Mattheo Riddle x Y/N Nettleby, Ex! Theodore Nott x Y/N Nettlby.

Warning(s): order of the phoenix spoilers (a bit), mentions of sexual activities, degrading/slight abuse by parents,

iv. “this is why we can’t have nice things, darling”

Chapter Four

*Gif not mine* *not edited or proofread*

It had been approximately four days since the Slytherin party and Y/N had tried her best to avoid Mattheo and his friends. It was easier to avoid the Slytherin friend group compared to Mattheo, as it seemed that he looked for her in every class, between every class, and at every meal. She had shaken him off every time and ignored him as much as possible, but that did little to stop him.

"Y/N!" The voice of Hermione had torn through the silence of the library. The Granger girl hurriedly making her way over to her housemate. "Lorenzo told me to come find you, Riddle is fighting Nott." she spoke fast.

Y/N shot up from her chair quickly, leaving her items and headed to where Hermione was taking her. It wasn't long before the two Gryffindor girls were stopping where their friend group was trying to break them up and other houses just watching. "Hey!" Y/N yelled as she walked towards the fight.

"Y/N." Sean warned as his sister shrugged him off and went towards the fight again since he had stopped her.

"Mattheo Riddle!" Y/N yelled breaking the boys apart as she carefully pushed them away from each other, her hand staying on the one she had called. "Stop it, both of you!" she yelled again. The Slytherin friend group cleared the hallways since the fight was under control and they didn't have to worry about their friends killing each other. "What in merlin's name happened?" she asked, looking at each one of the boys.

Mattheo stood their breathing heavy and glaring at Theo, who didn't dare look at anyone. Veronica wore a proud smile on her face, unknowingly being caught by the rest of the group. "Theo was insulting you." Enzo stated simply, not wanting to go into detail in such a public place.

"If she would put out-" Veronica started before Theodore shook his head indicating her to stop when he noticed Mattheo go to step forward, but Y/N held him back. The Nettleby girl was afraid that he would not be afraid of punching a girl right now.

"Let's go." She muttered pulling Mattheo along with her and not giving any of the Slytherin's her attention. She quietly led the boy to her dormitory and straight to the shared bathroom.

She didn't say anything as she sat him down on the toilet and started using some healing spells that she knew to heal him the best she could. Some of his wounds and marks were still there, but truth be told Theo looked worse.

"This was a bad idea." Y/N stated as she avoided Mattheo's gaze and walked out of the bathroom, him following her, once she had finished the healing spells. "This plan was rubbish, especially when it makes you and Theo fight. Merlin, you two were best friends before me." she muttered.

"He won't disrespect you s'long as i'm around." Mattheo mumbled as he took a seat on the girl's bed not knowing what to expect from her next.

Y/N shook her head as she stopped pacing and turned to face the boy that she had known very well since first year. "What was the fight even about?" she asked, knowing that it had to do with the issue between her and Theo.

"that bitch seems to have an influence on Theodore." Mattheo spoke as he eyed the girl in front of him. "Veronica started first, saying how our relationship must be draining because lack of activities, your ex then going on to say that there's better lays."

Y/N nodding, even though she didn't quite understand why her not having sex with him would be this big of an issue. Maybe it was an insecurity problem, or maybe it was the only thing he truly wanted from their relationship. Whatever the case, she knew that they were not worth her breath. Yet something had to give, because she was not finishing the next two years at school and dealing with the two wizards fighting.

"Come on," Y/N spoke as she grabbed Mattheo's hand and led him out of her dorm and made her way towards the Slytherin common room. She was going to settle this once and for all, whether it made people mad or not. "Pureblood." she spoke the the door and entered the common room as the door opened, Mattheo trailing behind her.

Just as she had suspected, the friend group had skipped class after the fight had broken out. The couple joined the group, as they caught everyone's attention. Veronica looked pissed and unhappy that they had decided to show up, when they were probably getting scolded by the friend group.

"I'll leave after I say this because I am done with how immature you two are acting," She started as she pointed to her ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend. "also the fact that the fights between you two," pointing at Mattheo and Theodore. "are absurd." she finished causing everyone to agree with those statements that had been made.

The girl turned to Theo before giving him a look, "You honestly want the truth? Because I have a feeling you won't want it once I started confessing." She asked the man that she used to have feelings for. When no one said anything, she looked at Mattheo to see if he had any feelings about people finding out about them. "It's true that I didn't sleep with you" She admitted to the group but kept her gaze locked on Theo's so he would know she was telling the truth. "I was going to the night you broke up with me," She admitted making Mattheo rolled his eyes and her brother look away not wanting to hear that.

"I didn't have sex with Theodore, but I wasn't a prude." Y/N looked straight in the eyes of Veronica as she spoke those words knowing that it showed who she truly was. "I lost my virginity to Mattheo the day before my birthday, 5 months before Theodore and I started dating." She told the group honestly. Sean looked sick because he didn’t want to hear that about his best friend and sister, Theo was angry and Veronica was surprised. The others not saying anything and just absorbing the information. “Besides there was other things done besides…” she trailed off before shaking her head and deciding against saying it.

Theo’s angry eyes burned right into Mattheo’s as he stood up and rushed towards the boy. Enzo pulling Y/N out of the way knowing what was coming. The Nott boys wand pressing against the neck of Mattheo. Of course, everyone thought that he wouldn’t do anything but it’s the fact that he would go that far.

“I should hex you.” Theo spoke dangerously low to his housemate and best friend.

“Now, why would you do that Nott?” Mattheo spoke calmly. Knowing nothing was going to happen and if it did that he could control the situation.

Y/N spoke up, knowing that it may make things worse but she hoped it made it better. “There’s no reason for that Theodore.” She spoke calmly, but her nerves were going wild for Mattheo. She knew he could handle his own, knowing where he came from. Still didn’t make her worry any less.

“This is rubbish, Theo.” Veronica started as she stood up and went over to rub his arm. “She isn’t worth it.”

Theodore shook her off and continued his hard glare at his best friend. “you took that from me.” He muttered causing the Riddle boy to furrow his eyebrows in confusion. “I was suppose to get that experience.”

Mattheo’s gaze darkened at what his housemate was meaning, “I didn’t take anything away from you. What experience were you wanting exactly? What claim did you think that you’d have on her?” He asked dangerously low, the patience in his voice wearing thin.

Y/N had enough of all this, she had left the common room without being noticed by Mattheo or Theodore. Who did Theo think he was, being entitled to her and what she had to give. It didn’t make any sense to the girl as to why he was acting like that. Pushing that behind her, she went back to the Gryffindor common room to hopefully have some normal time with her friends.

"Hey guys." Y/N greeted sitting her bag down beside of her and sitting down beside Hermione. Her friends greeted her back before they gave each other knowing looks. They weren't sure if their friend was aware of everything that was going on. "Are you all okay? You're acting strange..."

Hermione glanced around the group before turning her attention to the Nettleby girl, "Have you heard anything about Riddle? or has he told you anything?" she asked cautiously to not make the girl uncomfortable.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows and shook her head, "No, why?"

"You know about everyone shunning Harry because of... his father and how his mother has escaped from Azkaban, and they haven't found her." Ginny explained to the girl trying to get her to understand their concern and everything about the situation.

Ron looked at Harry before turning his attention to the girls, "Harry said that they think his followers are planning something."

realization dawned on Y/N as her friends continued talking about the situation at hand. It was true about Bellatrix had escaped from Azkaban and she had completely forgotten to ask Mattheo how he felt about it, seeing as it made headlines. Y/N knew that his father was also back, or at least trying to make a comeback. Not only because she trusted her friends but because she could feel it. Coming from a family of death eaters allowed for this stuff to make sense.

"My parents are hosting a dinner that my brother and I have to attend." Y/N spoke making the golden trio and Ginny turn towards her. "I bet it has something to do with him." she added as she looked around her friend group.

"Please tell me you're not going." Harry begged in his own way to his friend. They all knew that Y/N's family was pureblood Slytherin's and death eaters, the Weasley's were even a bit unsure when Ron invited her over for the holidays when he found out that she refused to go home. Now it was clear that she was nothing like her family and wanted a different life, fighting for the good side of things.

Y/N shrugged, "I have to, or they will literally track me down." she mumbled as she noticed the tension in the room.

🪄

It was the time that she had dreaded for the past two weeks. The dinner that her mother had excitedly written to both of her kids about. To make matters worse for the Gryffindor girl, she knew it would be a death eaters meeting, seeing as almost everyone in Sean and Mattheo's group would be there.

"They're going to murder me." Y/N whispered to Sean as the youngest twin sat on her brother's bed as he laid out his suit. "I am a bloody Gryffindor, and everyone that's going to be here is Slytherin death eaters." The twins were still not close, but they were closer than previously due to her connection with Mattheo and after how Theo had treated her.

"I'll go down with you if they try anything." Sean promised as he noticed how distraught his sister looked. "Mattheo won't let anything happen to you either."

Y/N scoffed slightly at what her older brother had said, It was true that Mattheo was far from his parents when no one was around. But how would he act when multiple of his family's allies was in the same room? He had always acted a big stuck up or cold towards the girl whenever the Netteby's hosted Christmas parties and everything. "Our parents like you more, they'll make sure you live. They'll place the unforgivable spell on me."

"You'll survive." Sean promised before shoving his sister out of his room so he could get ready.

Y/N rolled her eyes before going to her room and getting ready. To blend in with everyone that was going to be at Nettleby manor, she had decided on another green dress. Something that would make her look mature but attractive at the same time. She quickly straightened up her hair and makeup before taking a couple deep breaths and heading downstairs to meet whatever fate was waiting for her.

"Y/N, you're late." Mrs. Nettleby scolded her eyes glaring at the girl in front of her. "You don't need to be a bigger disappointment than you already are." she muttered. A few of the other death eaters laughed at the mother's comment.

Y/N held her head high and stood up straighter, "Sorry mother." she muttered before stepping around her mother and going into the kitchen in her house.

"You don't walk away until I say I am done with you!" Mrs. Nettlby spoke harshly as her heels click-clack every time she stormed towards her daughter. "You should be grateful for the life that you have with us, we would have kicked you out if we didn't have a plan for you." she spoke in her normal harsh tone.

Y/N's eyes narrowed slightly as she starred at her mother, "Plan for me?" she asked wanting to know what the group of death eaters planned to do with her.

Mrs. Nettleby gave her daughter a wicked smile before she grabbed her daughter by the shoulder and pushed her out to where the group was waiting for her. "Our daughter wants to know what her main purpose is, I think it's time we elaborate."

Sean's expression changed as he noticed the harsh grip that his mother had on his sister. He knew that his family treated her different since she was sorted into Gryffindor, but he did not understand why. He went to speak up before Lucius Malfoy stepped in front of the group of Slytherin boys. "I think it's time for you to let the adults talk." He spoke monotoned to the group of boys.

"What are you going to do to my sister?" Sean asked the father of his friend. His glare was hard as he tried to figure out what the death eaters wanted with his sister.

Lucius gave him a dark look, "that is between us and her, Mr. Nettleby." He spoke before ushering the boys out of the room.

After the boys had left everyone gathered around the table, the grip Mrs. Nettleby had on her daughter tightened as discussion started around the group of his army. "Here is what you must do."

“They wouldn’t hurt her, would they?” Sean asked nervously as he waited for the adults to break the spell on the door.

Draco scoffed, “they would.” He spoke monotonously.

Theodore had been ignored by Mattheo and Sean, but he was even look nervous now. He may have a grudge held against his best friend, but he would admit that Y/N didn’t deserve to be tortured by the groupies in the den.

Before anyone could speak up the doors opened and Mr. Nettleby threw his daughter out before closing the doors again. The girl’s shoulders were already turned slightly purple from the grip and fingernails of her mother. Her once neat hair was how messy and her makeup was smudged. A red mark shaped like a handprint laid across her right cheek.

Y/N didn’t dare say anything, all she did was take her heels off and raced to her room. Sean went to follow her but was held back by Draco who knew that Mattheo would want to follow the girl. After all, it was the boy’s father’s followers that did whatever damage to the girl.

Y/N rushed to her room and quickly got her duffle, whatever she had left at home was going back with her to Hogwarts. There was no one she could risk coming home again.

“Y/N,” Mattheo’s voice spoke softly from the doorway of the girl’s bedroom. “What’s going on?”

“I’m leaving.” She whispered hoping that they couldn’t curse him to get it out of him. She knew her parents would find her at hogwarts, which made her worried. “I can’t stay here, not with what they’re expecting me to do.”

Mattheo cautiously stepped into the bedroom that he was slightly familiar with. He didn’t want to startle the girl seeing as she was in a vulnerable state. “What did they do?” He asked carefully, he noticed the way her eyes squeezed shut and a tear fell down. “Let me help you.”

Y/N turned to him fully, so he got the full view of her. Her cheek now a slightly different color due to the impact of whoever slapped her across the face. “You can’t help me, Teo.” She whispered on the verge of breaking.

“Let me try,” he pleaded, hating seeing the girl the way that she was currently. “I’ll try to fix it.”

“I have to get out of here,” she told him. “I have to go into hiding or something.” She mumbled as her eyes finally fully met his.

Mattheo stepped forward again and carefully reached out and grabbed her hand in a comforting way. “Tell me what they want you to do.”

“They want me to spy on Harry,” she whispered. His hand gave hers a big squeeze. Knowing that she was best friends with him, sure he hated Harry. Most of it being because of his father and everything that happened. “They want me to spy on the the Weasley’s as well.” She added her heart breaking as she spoke.

“Maybe we can figure something out,” Mattheo tried to reason but they both knew better. Death Eaters showed no remorse for anyone, not even their own kids. At least, the Nettleby’s didn’t. “We can find a way for you to make them happy but keep your friends safe.”

Y/N shook her head as more tears fell down, “that’s not the worse part.” She muttered as his hand went to rest on her cheek.

“I’m sure we can get through it.” Mattheo reassured, his thumb wiping away the tears as they fell.

“They’re going to force me to become like them.” She told the guy that she cared deeply for in front of her. Mattheo paled, knowing exactly what she meant. It was exactly what his father and mother had been planning for him since the plan to get his father back. “They’re forcing me to join your fathers army.”

That sentence was enough for Mattheo to fear for the girl in front of him. It was enough to feel his own heart break. Because someone so sweet, caring, and willing to help others did not deserve to have that life that he was destined to live.

Little note: hi! It’s been longer than I hoped and I’m sorry many things got in the way but here’s an update. I hope you enjoyed and we’re getting to the juicy stuff. I did change the plot a bit since this went from a George Weasley x reader (rough draft) and I did a full switch to Mattheo Riddle x reader. I think I’m going to start adding a word count at the beginning of my chapters just so I can keep track of how many words I usually write per chapter. Next update should be out soon! I’ve started writing requests but I’ll catch up with blogmas first! 🥰

Tag list: @yoichiislovie @justhavingsomefun1 @lafrone @julesandro @prongprincessworld @bruher @mattiesgirl @itsamusical4lifee @frogtape @blueeweeb @harrysnovia @kiwi475 @wildlyobserving @devotedlycrookeddonut @oi-itse @dear-fifi @grandtheoristpeach @dory-98 @lovesanimals0000 @supernatural-lover @joekbff @ivy-34 @jasmine2105 @cmervns @jetblackpayne @b4b3tte @xmadigurlx @thecraziestcrayon @whoknowsbut

I think I added everyone! If i missed someone or I tagged the wrong account and you wanna be untagged just let me know. 🫶

[thetaxicabber]

Chapter 6 art for Voyagers of Time and Shadow! This is one of my favorites so far! Two worlds colliding with the golden trio meeting our two main characters.

Here’s an excerpt from the chapter 📚

“Hey Potter!” Sebastian calls to the trio of Gryffindor’s as they exit the Great Hall after breakfast. They were only a few steps ahead of them, the crimson shining on their robes colored ties in the sunlight from the windows. Evelyn watches Hermione glance over her shoulder at them before she stops walking.

Harry tenses but relaxes when he turns around and sees that it’s them. “Hello Sebastian,” he greets with a small smile.

This is the first time Evie is getting a good look at the famous boy who lived. They’ve shared a few classes but he’s kept his head down in every class other than Defense Against the Dark Arts that first day. He has untidy black hair and round glasses over his green eyes. He’s not as tall as Sebastian but he’s not short either. Evelyn can spy the edge of the lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead but she doesn’t stare at it.

She knows what its like to be the odd one at school. Everyone knew she stopped Ranrok and treated her differently because of it. Not many had known about her ancient magic but she could not hide her injuries after the final battle and Headmaster Black then announced that she was a hero at the celebration. Evie wishes he wouldn't have so she could have pretended to be normal. She wishes she could have kept it all a secret.

“I wanted to introduce you to my girlfriend,” Sebastian slides his hand onto her shoulder and squeezes it lightly. “This is Evie.”

“Hi Evie, nice to meet you,” Harry greets her with a hesitant nod. He looks a bit like he’s expecting her to say something foul.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” she smiles at him, folding her hands in front of her politely. This boy has been through hell, something they both have in common. “I hope you don’t think Sebastian and I are like the others in our house…we can think for ourselves.”

This amazing art by @giselsann-opencommissions I'm so excited to continue getting art for this series! If you've read it let me know which scenes you'd like to see! :)

[cause-of-insomnia-jv]

[deadghosy]

“Support”

HUFFLEPUFF OC X M! SLYTHERIN READER

Dynamic: strangers to friends to soulmates

Prompt: Every Slytherin needs their emotional support Hufflepuff.

Warning: fluff

Word count: 2k+

“Every Slytherin needs their emotional support hufflepuff.” THAT’S what you heard once, but you never believed it. You never did. You didn’t need no support, you got yourself to pass howgarts. You got your cunning charms to get through trouble. But you always think back to the quote. Sometimes you even heard a Slytherin say it their self. It made you gag, maybe it was just you being a hater for love. But you always thought maybe no one would be a perfect suit for you. You mostly made it hard for anyone to court you. Hell, you turned down people during Slytherin parties. Pansy was sick of you just being an anti romantic, always saying to "let loose or you’re going to die old." You rolled your eyes at what she said. Not giving a single care in the world at least.

Today was like every other day. Waking up, getting dressed, go eat breakfast, and then go to studies. You were eating breakfast as mattheo was beside you making jokes with the others. The riddle brother looked towards you curiously. “Sooo when are you gonna tell us about your boyfriend mate.” What he said almost made you choke on your biscuit. “What?!” You said with a glare, Mattheo only smirked his signature smirk. “Y’know, that hufflepuff that always glance at you?” He rested his body against the table, using one finger to point at the hufflepuff table. You looked over to see a blonde haired boy, perfect blue eyes stare into your own colored eyes. He seemed to see that you saw him as he looked down quickly to his plate. He failed miserably to look as if he wasn’t looking at you. Scrunching up your face, you turned to mattheo who was laughing and nudging your side. “I sense loveeee” you slap his head making him flinch and shut up.

In charms class, you were taking notes of charms you could possibly study for later. Not noticing a certain blonde boy looking at you with admiration. A smile tugged the side of his lips as he looked up from his own book and stared at the beauty in front of him. The poor boy was whipped for the Slytherin male beside him. He didn’t know he had a thing for Slytherins, but this snake caught his eyes like a beautiful fruit in a tree. He always admired you from afar, scared to even make a move ever since 2nd year. You felt his stare immediately, glancing at him slowly using your eyes. You caught the sight of the handsome blonde hufflepuff, and he looked like as if he was struck. “What.” You said quite harshly, turning your attention towards him instead of your notes. He quickly broke out of his love gaze at you only to stammer his words. Finding a hard time to give an excuse on why he was staring at you. You rolled your eyes not having time to listen to this certain hufflepuff. The boy sighed and looked away, not before stealing another glance at you.

You went back slowly taking notes, honestly you hated the feeling of people staring at you. It made your skin crawl. Making it seem as if everyone Is judging your every move. Every single move you make, as if they are saying “What a weirdo.” The only way to distract yourself was to take notes and keep your head low. Leg bouncing impatiently, you bite at the dead skin of your lip. “What charm makes the target blend in to the surroundings” Professor Flitwick says. Standing on a small stool due to his small body. His eyes glaze over his students before making contact with a certain Slytherin student. You. “Mr. L/N?” You jolted seeing everyone was staring at you. “What charm is it?” Professor Flitwick asks you, you start to feel your palms sweat and your head spin at the attention. Eyes, eyes everywhere. “I..uh..uhm..” you tried to pick a random charm spell as a guess. That’s when a piece of small paper slid beside you out of no where with a small pst. It read "Disillusionment". So you said it out loud and the small professor nodded satisfied and continued the lecture.

You bite the inside of your cheek and look to your side of where the hufflepuff boy was at. He was already looking at you with a thumbs up at you. Your eyes widen connecting the dots that he was the one that slid the paper to you.

He smiled at you, his blue eyes shining in the light making them look even brighter. You quickly turned away with an awkward face. “What the hell?” You thought. You didn’t know him? So why did he help you..your leg kept bouncing as you were sat beside him. Soon it was time to leave the suffering class. You grabbed your bag and headed out, not noticing the certain blue eyed boy was watching your every move. Cedric chuckled at his fellow housemate who seemed intrigued in the Slytherin male. “Woah mate, didn’t know you had a thing for snakes!” He teased with a laugh, putting his arm around his shoulders. Luka’s face went red a bit before shrugging off the quidditch player. “Stop it…I just think he’s rather..alluring.”

But he found you more than alluring.

It was that day when you fully acknowledged him. In transfiguration class. You sat beside the same student you sat by in charms. Without even knowing that Luka had to fight others to sit by you. Poor boy pushed a ravenclaw out of the way back in 3rd year to sit next to you first. Luka sat down, messing with the sleeves of his cloaks. He felt nervous for some reason. He didn’t know what, but he felt like he needed to actually try and talk to you. So that’s what he tried to do. As you were trying beetles into buttons, he cleared his throat. He looked at you to see that you used an avifor spell on a quill. Turning it into a dove as it flaps around the class. “Sooo what’s your favorite color?” He asked with an awkward smile . You glanced at him before turning at the dove that flapped around. “Green. Simple as that.” You gave off a blunt answer which made the blonde male frown. “Well, mine is yellow. But I think green suits you well.” He smiled at you still, not giving you on trying. It seemed to work as you looked at him amused. “Really now?” He nodded excitedly. “Really! I think it suits you and brings out your charms.”

Soon you were starting to enjoy the conversation between the hufflepuff and yourself. You thought he was a little weird, which still stood in your opinion. But he was actually adorable. You laughed at a dumb joke he made, smiling at your laugh. “Your laugh is beautiful..” you paused your laughter, shocked at his words. He realized what he said as his heart spoke before his own brain. “I mean! It’s just I never heard you laugh and..it sounded so angelic..” he slowed his speech the more he talked. He couldn’t help that you had taken his heart. But it was too perfect for you as usual. You heard a snicker behind you, it was a snicker you always knew. An asshole snicker. You used your peripheral vision seeing a certain gryffindor pointing at you and laughing with their buddies. Your jaw lock, eyes narrowing at how it was obvious on what was going on. Luka noticed and frown turning his head at the certain Gryffindor.

Luka moved his hand smoothly onto your shoulder. “Hey..don’t let them get to you.” See Luka knew between the history of the house rivalry between the Gryffindors and Slytherins. He found them dumb and just wanted every house to get together in a friendly manner. But he knew it wouldn’t even happen. “That bastard thinks he can just laugh at me..he doesn’t even bloody know me!” You hissed at Luka who seemed to sigh, letting go of your shoulder. “Please don’t take it out at me mate.” You kept a sharp look, but it softened when he asked you. So you scoffed but nodded. He smiled at you listening him, it made him feel bubbly inside. But that bubbly feeling faltered as he seen the Gryffindor make a small snark. “Poor Slytherin having pity part with a hufflepuff. Poor Luka, y’know bud you don’t have to be so soft towards that pathetic snake!” The student yelled out loud. Making some of the classmates laugh along. Luka’s jaw locked at the words that came out the damned mouth of the student.

You quickly turned around whipping your dark wood wand at the damned gryffindor who dared to test you. The student screamed as their world seemed now small, as now they were turned into a pig. Laughter erupted in class whilst you smirked. “Oh wow! Look at that, you turned into what you always were..a pig.” You had a hand to your cheek with a sadist smile. Luka chuckled behind his hand, his blue eyes showing amusement. The Gryffindor that was now turned into a pig squealed and was rushing at you with anger. You pulled out your wand ready to depulso that filthy creature away from you. But Luka had other plans as his big grabbed you by your waist and covered you with his body. He wasn’t taking any chances with you getting hurt. It felt as though this moment was in slow motion, Luka’s serious face as his body covered you perfectly. Luka seemed prepared to feel a pig rush at him only to hear a certain professor clear her throat. You two look to see professor McGonagall having the Gryffindor by their ear. “I would love an explanation for this.” She said tugging on the student’s ear who seemed to glare at you. Before you or the Gryffindor could speak, Luka spoke first. “This idiot had verbal harassed my friend. So I turned him into a pig to see how it felt to be embarrassed.” The blonde said with a clear voice. You were shocked at you didn’t think he would take the blame for you. Professor McGonagall raised a brow, looking at you. “Is this true Mr. L/N?” She asked, looking at you. You slowly nodded going along with this whole lie. McGonagall only sighed and nodded.

“Mr. Sweetleaf, I must say I’m honestly disappointed in you..I expected high expectations from you. But this? This shall not pass. 10 points from hufflepuff.” Profesor McGonagall said towards the hufflepuff next to you that you now know the name of. Luca Sweetleaf. The hufflepuff that stood up for you. And now he had detention because of your anger.

The next morning, you had threatened to know where the detention hall was at. You never been there, well almost but you never made the cut to. The thoughts of how someone actually felt the need to protect you felt weird. You kept pacing outside of the detention room. Biting on your nails nervously as you looked at your watch. That bastard Sweetleaf really took the fall for you. Why did he do it? You knew hufflepuffs were loyal, but you didn’t know this hufflepuff was that loyal. It was you who turned that prick into a pig, so why did he take the fall?? It didn’t make sense. You huffed and gripped your hair frustrated. You didn’t notice Luca exiting the detention room. He raised a brow at you, you looked deep in thought. With slow walks he gently took your hands out of your hair with a soft look. You looked up at him, snapping out of your thoughts. Your breathing was a bit harsh from the overwhelming thoughts on how, just how someone can be nice. “You okay?” He asked, his voice velvety. Feeling your breath hitch, he smiled that soft awkward smile. “I-I’m fine you idiot!” You pulled your hands harshly out of his hold.

He frowned at your reaction. He nodded seeing how you were acting though, putting his hands neatly together. He watched you closely to see you were still frantic. It almost broke his heart seeing you like this. “What’s wrong…” he said lowly, but it was so soft that it could calm you down. And it did. You slowly breathed normally, your heart beating softly. “..why did you do it?” You asked with a suspicious look. He moved a little closer, but not close to invade your space at all. “Do what?” God his voice was too good. You blinked surprised at the thought. Luka’s head was tilted, his eyes begging for an answer. Clearing your throat you crossed your arms. “Taking the blame for me..that’s what you did.” It seemed to click in his head as he smiled. “Is that what this is about?” You nodded eagerly.

“Why did you even take the fall? I don’t know you, I mean I do now. But still! I’m a stranger to you and—” you couldn’t finish your sentence as he opened his mouth. “But you aren’t a stranger!” He raised his voice, surprising you. Taking a deep breath, he ran his hand through his blonde hair as he kept eye contact towards you. “I…I’ve known you from afar, yeah it may seem creepy. But for God’s sake, you always seem to pull me in. Something always yell for me to protect you! To make you happy and smile..” he said, looking like a desperate man. His eyes showed admiration and affection. Something people don’t look like that at you. You could feel heat creep upon your face. Swallowing the thump in your throat, about to counter his words, but he shook his head no. Already knowing you will try to be stubborn and kept scolding him. You gave him a face that clearly read “wtf”

Luca sighed, holding your body close to his own warm body. He didn’t understand why you were acting stubborn. Yeah maybe you almost got in trouble, but he took most of the blame. Leaving you scott free from any detention. “Listen miłość. I’m fine, I didn’t want you to get in trouble because of some git.” You scoffed and push yourself away only for him to grab your arm and pull you towards him again. Your eyes widen to see how serious he looked. His warm breath hitting your face. He smelt like honey and cinnamon. “Stop it.” His voice low and serious. His eyes narrowed into slits, he took a low breath. “I want you to understand I care for you deeply. And I would die for you to even understand how far I’ll go for you to understand.” Your eyes widen, looking down and then looking up at him. You couldn’t help but sigh and nod. “Fine…” you said finally.

He smiled at you, finally letting go of your arm. “Good..now let’s go get some butterbeers..I’m thirsty.” He chuckled walking ahead as he pulls your hand. You roll your eyes, but you couldn’t help but smile at the hufflepuff in front of you. Maybe he is your emotional support.

[lepsikk]

[sunkissedscribbles]

Prejudiced - Chapter Eleven

this is only a part of the series, the previous and next chapters can be found here 

a/n: i'm literally in love with this one

word count: 1748

tw: not proofread, maybe swearing? mention of sex, cassie's mental health, usage of alcohol

summary: the yule ball. i don't do spoilers<3

<previous chapter          next chapter>

dividers by @chachachannah

✰ "Can I have this dance?"

Ki and I get ready to the ball together, in her room. I'm messing with the makeup, having no talent for it while she's putting the snake-like belt on her dress. We've done both of our dresses – or at least we bought the dresses themselves, a dark green dress for Ki and a lapis-coloured one for me. But they were so plain like that, and we needed to get our attention off the current conflict with the Slytherin boys that we decided to do something extra. So, I made a slit on her shiny dress on the left and she got two snakes slithering down her arms made from a metal-like, stiff material, the same as it is around the waistline of the dress with some mesh attached to it. My dress is made from a heavier material, the skirt part has two layers so it doesn't hug my body as Kiara's does hers, and we made stars on the top area out of glue rhinestones, and I also made opera gloves out of mesh almost the same shade of blue as the dress.

I can still barely believe what they've done, especially Enzo. But for some reason, Mattheo's behaviour bothers me as well, almost just as much. I might be overreacting but try to look at it with the eyes of girls.

Not that they haven't tried apologizing – they have, but what do they expect after what happened? This is a really messy situation and it didn't necessarily have to get to this point. It was the other day when Ki and I were ready to practically burn everything that reminded us of the boys. She found me in my room, throwing shirt after poster on the floor, but she then joined almost immediately, throwing Theo's spare Quidditch hoodie on the pile on the floor. It was just when I took the necklace I got from Enzo for my birthday off the jewellery rack when the boys interrupted our seance to apologize. Theo started, talking mostly to Ki.

Then Enzo tried, but he didn't quite tell the real reason behind his game. But I haven't even looked at Mattheo, so he hasn't tried apologizing, probably feeling too guilty to.

I look at my reflection in the mirror; my skin looks weird with the foundation on. I don't like it. I can't help my gaze wandering to the sweetheart neckline, the fabric held up by two spaghetti straps on each side. My shoulders still look too broad, I state to myself as a mental note, trying to make it look better by moving my hair around but it doesn't do much. My gaze drops to my arms, my biceps and triceps looking too masculine in this light and I can't help but want to cover up. I should've bought a suit.

"God damn," my gaze shifts to Kiara, taking in her appearance in the mirror. "You're gorgeous," I compliment my best friend. This dress hugs her curves perfectly, and the corset top with the deep cleavage it has only compliments her advances. Not to talk about the belt and the layer of mesh that accentuates her waistline. I can't believe she doesn't see just how beautiful she is.

"I'm nowhere compared to you," she smiles at me, a bit disappointed and I stand up and shake my head.

"Don't compare us. No one's perfect," I sigh, instinctively reaching to fidget with the Cassiopeia necklace around my neck – which I have taken off, I realize. It's up in my dorm, in a box under my bed. As I remember how pissed I was at myself for not getting Enzo anything more, well... expensive I can't help but see the disappointed expression of the boy when he saw it on top of the pile the other week.

As Ki and I just stare at each other, I realize, I should be excited because of the ball, shouldn't I? Like, this entire year is just so intriguing with the Triwizard Tournament and all – but I'm not looking forward to the ball now that I'm practically half an hour away from it; I feel uncomfortable in my skin, want to change into some jeans and a big t-shirt and be left alone. Everyone's gonna be laughing at me. They're gonna talk behind my back.

"I was so excited when we bought the dresses," I mutter.

"Me too," Ki sighs and as she sits down on her bed I follow suit, staring at ourselves in the mirror. The sight's depressing; two girls sitting in their best dresses with displeased and uncomfortable expressions on their faces.

"You haven't thought we'd end up like this, have you?" I mutter and she shakes her head.

"No."

"Wished someone would ask you to the ball?"

Her eyes darken as she nods, "Yeah."

After a few seconds of silent fidgeting, she speaks up again. "Got wine."

"Give me some."

The opening dance is chaos because of the Potter-Patil duo but at least it's fun to giggle at with the alcohol coursing through my veins. I can't help my gaze wandering over to the boys during the night, but I see Enzo vanish at some point. How surprising...

Ki and I somehow end up in the company of Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass and Millicent Bulstrode, who are insisting on playing truth or dare, and when Pansy dares Kiara to ask Mr Harper for dance is when I lose sight of my best friend because I can't possibly look at her awkwardly and desperately trying her best to convince or bribe our teacher to dance with her when Pansy's neck looks so rippable.

He's just not the perfect match for her.

I stand outside the castle, trying to list off the things I sense as I feel disassociated again. Maybe the loud music, the uncomfortable feeling I have weighing down on me since putting the dress on and feeling like I have to suck my stomach in, or the effects of the wine leaving my body. Or maybe I'm just tired. Overwhelmed, or confused. The problem is, I have too much on my mind and on my heart to even make out what this all is.

I'm slightly panicked because nothing feels real, again. Then there's the thing that no one has asked me for a dance; I've been standing in a corner all evening, sometimes shifting my weight from one leg to the other, or trying to crack my back. Not even the brash Cormac McLaggen has tried to shoot his shot. Maybe I really am invisible – but haven't I been wanting that all this time? For people to forget about me for a bit, to not be the centre of the rumours all the time since I've been friends with Mattheo?

Now I really got it.

And yet again, pretty isn't pretty enough.

"You're gonna catch a cold," a familiar voice speaks up behind me, making me freeze for a second before turning around.

Mattheo looks into my eyes with guilt shining in his, and a hand offered to me. I look down at it with the cold eyes of a mistrustful cat and then back up at his face. For a moment I think he's going to pull his hand back but he proves me wrong, taking a cautious yet definite step towards me. "Can I have this dance?" he asks with a hopeful and gentle tone and it actually feels nice to have him ask me to dance.

I finally nod and he takes my hand with a slight yet victorious smile and leads me back inside the castle and into the Great Hall. I first stiffen up when he places a hand on my waist but then try to calm myself down when his other finds mine and starts to lead me in a slow dance. My heart nearly stops at the thought that I'm actually experiencing this, and I soon get comfortable enough to look Mattheo in the eyes, searching those gorgeous, gorgeous brown irises.

"You look beautiful," he says quietly in a calm yet sincere tone and I don't have to try to believe him. He spins me around and I smile lightly as my hand ends up in the same position in his again after the full 360 degrees of a turn, as if they were designed to be like that, perfectly fitting together. He pulls me closer and his other hand travels onto the small of my back as he speaks truthfully, apologetically, "I was an idiot for making that bet, I know. And I don't expect you to trust me again as much as you have before, but you must know that the thought of taking your Kiara to bed has never ever crossed my mind. I'm not that big of a prick. And I had no idea you were in Enzo's book either."

I listen to what he has to say intently. I know he's telling the truth, and I know I should've listened to him sooner. Let him say what he had.

"All I have to say is that I'm really, really sorry. If I could I'd take it all back and turn time back. Do it differently because our friendship means more than a stupid bet," he pulls me even closer and I rest my chin on his shoulder with a small yet contended smile.

Suddenly, 'Pictures Of You' by The Cure starts playing and I lift my head. I can see the smirk on his lips, even if I don't look at him directly. "This is Muggle music," I frown.

"Yeah, I listen to The Cure," he chuckles and I look back into his eyes.

I smile half-heartedly but my heart yet again seems to skip a beat, "It's your doing, isn't it?"

"Maybe," he grins, but it's not the obnoxious one. It's the one that says 'I admire you' as his eyes shine brighter than a starry night sky, purer than the freshly fallen snow. Now I'm the one pulling him closer as I rest my chin on his shoulder again and my arms slither around his rest around my waist.

We still haven't talked about the kisses we've shared before but maybe it's better left like that for tonight. Because this moment is to be remembered forever. Because it's perfect.

✰ There was nothing in the world that I ever wanted more�� Than to feel you deep in my heart

tag list: @inksoakedparchment @mqstermindswift @reys-letters @girllblogging777 @yelanare

[unlockthelore]

Welcome to the Golden Trio AU 🍂!

Hey there!

I'm Lore, and I'm semi-new to the Our Life community. I've been popping in and out while playing Our Life: Beginnings & Always since the earliest demo release and haven't strayed since. However, Our Life: Now & Forever came during a time where I haven't been... the best.

So, when I stepped foot in Golden Grove, I got pretty attached to the newest kid in the cul-de-sac Desmond "Dez" Atwood who is one of the three protagonists, alongside Tamarack Baumann and Qiu Lin, of The Golden Trio series otherwise known as The Golden Days AU.

Let me tell you a little about them, with a bit of help from Desmond.

Desmond Atwood is the only child of Opal Atwood or Mama, as they called her, and the littler half of the terrific duo known as the Atwood Seconds!

When they were young, Desmond learned that adults didn't know everything. The doctors, and other people, who told them they were a girl all the time were definitely wrong.

They were only a girl sometimes, and people would have to call them by she or her, or they wouldn't say anything at all!

Other times, they were a boy and he or him was fine.

Other times, they were just Desmond, and they or them was just as good.

And everyone who called them by the name Mama gave them when they were born got a really stinky eye - and a talking to from Mama, which was never fun.

Their mama said they've always known just who they wanted to be, and she was learning new things about them everyday. Just like Desmond learned that Mama would always be on their side - whether it was in the cramped apartments and hotels they'd lived in for as long as Desmond could remember or when they moved to the brightly colored mountains and woods of Golden Grove.

Either way, as long as Mama was with them, anywhere could be home and fun because they were together.

Of course, that didn't mean Desmond couldn't go off exploring on their own! Whenever Mama turned her back, Desmond was off to the races, exploring every nook and cranny of their new home until she called them for food or needed help with cleaning. And when Mama shooed them out to play, they were more than happy to take her up on it.

Golden Grove was a new, mysterious place just waiting to be explored and Desmond Atwood was a bona fide detective! So how could they resist it when a paper airplane came out of nowhere with their name written on it?

Adventure was calling, and they would answer it everytime.

With all that being said, let me take over again for a bit. Desmond's a kid with a lot of spunk who grew up in environments where all they had to rely on was their mother and their wits. When it comes to making friends, they try to be as honest as possible and keep their listening ears open. Because of that, they usually can tell when someone is telling a lie or if things aren't exactly how they're supposed to be.

Their mother taught them to be open and accepting of others' opinions, but that doesn't mean they like everything someone has to say. Bullies are the absolute worse, and they can't stand shouting or arguments when people say mean things to be right.

No one wins when family is fighting, or at least that's what their Mama says. And that meant friends too!

When Desmond met Tamarack Baumann, she was a breath of fresh air! Finally, someone who got it on the first try that they were a girl sometimes and asked. It was easy to fall onto the same step as Tamarack and wiggle through the rules mischievously. Although, there were moments when Tamarack went a little too far and they couldn't be the same if they disagreed. But Desmond never wanted to be friends with Tamarack because they were the same - they weren't! There was only one Desmond, and one Tamarack, and they liked it just like that. They liked her just the way she was.

On the other hand, there was Qiu Lin, or Qiu-ulet as Desmond liked to call him. Qiu was really nice but he didn't seem to know how to take a thank you pretty well. When Desmond was little, the adults around them talked about being humble and grateful to the point where it made them feel icky. But Qiu always took thanks by brushing it off, or seeming so confident that it was coming that it never was a surprise. Yet, something seemed off about that. Qiu didn't seem to know what to do when someone tripped him up from what he wanted to do, or when they disagreed with him, and he always was looking out for everyone else. It made Desmond wonder what Qiu wanted at the end of the day.

As for Desmond, they liked to draw a lot and had plenty of pictures from the places they lived with their mama or ones they visited while moving around. And moving around was something they were used to because they had a really hard time staying still. They always had to be on the move, and outside was their favorite place to be. The wilderness was amazing and the newness of their surroundings wasn't scary at all.

When they were younger, they didn't have anything to fear and the future didn't frighten them at all.

But everyone grows up, and things change a little and sometimes not at all.

In Step 2, Desmond had grown into a self-assured demiboy.

Sometimes, he felt like a boy.

Other times, he just felt like Desmond.

He didn't see himself as sometimes a girl as much anymore, although those feelings were pondered on now and again. But with ninth grade looming and the exhilaration of finding out something new about himself - they couldn't wait to tell their friends! Everything was changing in Golden Grove, and he was reminded of what Tamarack said about things growing, changing, and dying.

Their feelings for their friends had definitely grown over the numerous seasons they'd spent together, but they couldn't help but notice how their friends had grown apart. Qiu would brush it off by saying it was nothing important, but they didn't think a lot of things were important these days aside from making sure everyone knew they went by they/them (which definitely was important) and being as mysterious as possible.

On the other hand, Tamarack had gotten quieter. Sometimes, Desmond would notice little glimpses of his best friend in her smiles that she'd still show him at least despite how much she hated her braces. But then she would become quieter, withdrawn, and her mind would go somewhere far away that Desmond worried he wouldn't be able to follow.

Another autumn was coming, and the two of them were changing. They were still his friends, and he was still theirs, but something was different. Mama reassured him that it was just what getting older did - and that she would always be there to talk, which Desmond knew because Mama was always there.

But they had a fear. An icky, creepy one that they'd never felt when they were little and the world was in the palm of their hand.

If they didn't catch up soon, Tamarack and Qiu might leave them behind altogether.

[ms-snape]

Hello, can you just write severu x reader? Some angst but fluff at the end? She’s try several times makes first move but he is just Severus. He won’t realize until she stop with trying to get to him. Thank you.

Title: Too Late?

Warning: Angst

Words Count: 3000+

Masterlist

---

Professor Y/N L/N loved the quiet, the calm of the Hogwarts greenhouse. The smell of damp earth and the soft rustle of leaves were her comfort. It was a sanctuary, a place where she could lose herself in the careful tending of magical plants, and a place where she could allow her thoughts to wander — especially to him.

Severus Snape.

She didn’t quite know when it had happened, or how it had grown so deeply rooted in her heart, but somewhere between the late-night faculty meetings, the shared glances in the staff room, and the way his voice lingered just a bit longer than necessary when addressing her, Y/N had found herself hopelessly in love with him.

It was ridiculous, really. She, the soft-spoken Herbology professor, with her love for nature and her quiet kindness, had fallen for the cold, brooding Potions Master. He was a man of sharp words, dark eyes, and a demeanor so cold it could freeze the very air around him. His silences spoke volumes, and his gaze could pierce you, if you weren’t careful.

Yet despite the distance, despite his icy exterior, she had tried. Tried, again and again, to show him that she was different. That she could be something more. That she cared. But he didn't seem to notice.... Or at least pretended not to....

--

It was a Tuesday morning, and Y/N was working diligently in the greenhouse, tending to the mandrakes. The plants had been quite active lately, and their cries were always a challenge. She hummed softly as she carefully repotted one of the mandrakes, the soft clink of her trowel against the ceramic pot soothing in the otherwise quiet room.

She hadn’t heard him approach.

"Professor L/N," came his voice, low and familiar.

Y/N’s heart stuttered. She straightened quickly, wiping her hands on her apron, trying to hide the flutter of nervousness in her chest.

"Professor Snape," she said, smiling a little too brightly. "I didn’t hear you come in. How can I help you?"

His black robes swished around him as he stepped into the greenhouse, his eyes narrowing slightly as they scanned the plants. His gaze flicked over the mandrakes, the fanged geraniums, the bubotubers. He was a master of his craft, of course, but the world of Herbology wasn’t one he usually paid attention to. Y/N couldn’t help but feel a rush of warmth when he stood so close.

"I’m just inspecting your work," he said, his tone sharp but not unkind. "You’ve been… diligent."

She nodded eagerly, pleased by his praise, though she wasn’t sure if it was meant as one. "I’m always happy to share what I know, Professor Snape. Perhaps I could show you some of the more—"

"No need." His voice was clipped, dismissive. "You are doing fine. Just make sure the plants don’t become too… unruly."

She bit her lip, her smile faltering, but she kept her voice steady. "Of course. I’ll keep an eye on them. Would you like to join me for a cup of tea after your rounds? I’ve been experimenting with a new blend of chamomile and valerian root. It’s quite calming."

The words hung in the air between them like a delicate thread, fragile and vulnerable.

Severus Snape didn’t respond immediately. His eyes flicked over her face, as if searching for something in her expression. His lips were thin, his brow furrowed slightly.

"I do not have time for tea, miss Y/L/N." His tone softened, but it was still cold. "I suggest you spend more time with your plants than offering tea to your colleagues."

She blinked, feeling a pang of hurt pierce her chest, though she quickly masked it with a polite nod. "Of course. I understand. Maybe some other time, then."

He didn’t say anything more. He simply turned and walked away, his black robes sweeping behind him like a shadow.

Y/N stood in the middle of the greenhouse, staring after him, her heart sinking. It had been the same every time.

A week had passed since that encounter in the greenhouse. The morning had been busy with classes, and now Y/N found herself in the staff room, going through some notes and preparing for the afternoon lesson. It was always the same. She would prepare, she would smile, and yet the reactions from Severus were always cold.

Her thoughts were interrupted when the door opened, and Severus stepped into the room. His black eyes flickered over her, but he didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. They both knew why he was here — the weekly staff meeting was starting soon.

Y/N straightened and greeted him with a polite smile, as always. "Good afternoon, Severu. How was your morning?"

He gave her a curt nod. "Uneventful."

The silence stretched between them, thick and uncomfortable. Y/N had tried to fill it once with a conversation about a rare plant she had recently discovered, but he had barely acknowledged it. His eyes were always distant, always elsewhere.

She didn’t know why she kept trying. Why she kept hoping that one day, he might see her. That he might realize that she wasn’t just another colleague, another face in the crowd. She didn’t know why she thought her kindness might be enough to break through the fortress he’d built around himself.

But despite it all, she kept trying.

As the staff meeting started, she sat across from him, her attention on the various discussions about upcoming events, but her thoughts were elsewhere — on him. Always on him. His sharp profile, the way his fingers drummed on the armrest of his chair, the occasional glance in her direction.

She could feel his eyes on her at times, though she couldn’t be sure if it was just her imagination. She didn’t have the courage to look up and meet his gaze, but she always felt the weight of it, a silent pressure.

A few days later, after another failed attempt to make him notice her — a carefully chosen compliment, a smile, a lingering look — Y/N had had enough. She had poured her heart into her attempts, trying to show him that she wasn’t like the others. That she could understand him, if only he would let her. But he wouldn’t.

He wouldn’t let anyone in.

It was a quiet night in the castle, and Y/N found herself walking through the hallways toward her quarters. She had spent the entire day in the greenhouse, putting in extra hours, hoping to take her mind off the frustration of the past few weeks.

The door to her room creaked as she entered, and the warmth of the fire that crackled in the hearth greeted her. She closed the door softly behind her, leaning against it for a moment, her heart heavy.

She had tried. She had been so kind, so patient, so open. But Severus would never look at her the way she had hoped.

Tears stung her eyes, though she didn’t let them fall. She wiped her face quickly, determined not to let the hurt consume her. She wasn’t going to chase someone who couldn’t even acknowledge her efforts.

No more trying.

The next day, Y/N was different. She kept to herself more than usual, focusing entirely on her work, her plants, the students. She had stopped making any attempt to speak with Severus, stopped offering him tea or trying to catch his eye.

And it didn’t take long for Severus to notice.

He wasn’t sure when it started. At first, he thought it was a fleeting thing, just another mood, another oddity in her usual demeanor. But when the days stretched into a week, and he saw her pulling away from him more and more, it began to gnaw at him.

He didn’t understand it.

Why did her absence bother him so much? Why did the sight of her avoiding him, walking past him without so much as a glance, make something in his chest tighten in a way he couldn’t explain?

He found himself watching her from afar, noting the way she no longer lingered in the staff room, no longer made small talk, no longer gave him those tentative smiles. The warmth that had always seemed to radiate from her was gone.

It bothered him more than he cared to admit.

Severus sat alone in his office late one night, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows across the stone walls. His mind was racing, and for once, the calm, measured pace of his thoughts seemed to have been interrupted by something… something unexpected.

Y/N.

Her absence.

Why did it matter? Why did it hurt?

He had spent years perfecting the art of indifference, of never allowing himself to feel anything that could be used against him. And yet, here he was, unable to focus, unable to keep his mind from wandering back to her.

The way her eyes sparkled when she spoke about her plants. The soft way she laughed. The way she cared for things. For him, in ways he couldn’t understand.

It was then, in the quiet solitude of his office, that Severus Snape realized something that terrified him.

He missed her.

And he had no idea how to fix it.

Severus Snape sat in his darkened office, staring into the flickering flames of the hearth, his mind a turbulent sea. The realization that he had been ignoring Y/N’s feelings — that he had pushed her away in his usual cold, dismissive manner — had only just hit him, and the weight of it was suffocating. He had been too absorbed in his own self-imposed isolation, too locked away in his fortress of bitterness and skepticism, to notice what had been so painfully clear to everyone else.

Y/N was gone.

Her warmth had disappeared from the corridors, from the staff room, from the greenhouse. And the coldness in his heart, which he had always managed to keep at bay, now gnawed at him like a hungry animal.

But he didn’t know how to fix it.

The door to his office creaked open, and Severus was momentarily startled from his thoughts. He raised his eyes, expecting to see the usual ghostly figure of one of the students needing a late-night potion or a missing assignment. Instead, it was Minerva McGonagall, her stern features softened by concern.

"Severus," she said, her tone unusually gentle, "I thought I might find you here."

"Minerva," he replied with a slight nod, though his voice was edged with weariness. "I trust there's a reason for this unannounced visit?"

Minerva didn’t immediately respond. She stepped inside and closed the door behind her, her movements deliberate, and her gaze sharp as always. She had been his colleague for years, and over that time, she had come to understand him more than most. But there was something different about her today, something perceptive in the way her eyes followed his every movement, as if weighing something heavy.

"I need to speak with you, Severus," she said, her voice quieter now. "And I believe you need to hear me out."

Severus tilted his head, his interest piqued. "I’m listening."

Minerva took a deep breath before sitting down opposite him. Her hands folded neatly in her lap as she began, carefully choosing her words.

"I've noticed the way things have been between you and Y/N lately," she started, her gaze steady but soft. "And I’m sure you’ve noticed, too. She’s been… distant not only to you but to everyone."

Severus stiffened, his chest tightening. "I hadn’t noticed," he replied, though even to his own ears, the words sounded hollow. He had noticed of course. How could he not? The absence of her smile, the quiet that surrounded her every time they crossed paths — it was impossible to ignore. He had simply been too afraid to confront it.

Minerva’s gaze softened with an almost imperceptible sigh. "Of course you noticed, Severus. But I don’t think you understand why she’s been avoiding you."

He frowned, his brows knitting together. "She has her reasons, no doubt. But if it’s something about my behavior, then it’s none of your concern."

Minerva leaned forward slightly, her voice dropping to a quieter, more direct tone. "Maybe not but it is your concern, Severus. Y/N has been avoiding you because she’s finally given up. She cares about you more than you realize — more than you’ve ever given her credit for. She’s been trying to show you that for months."

Severus recoiled slightly, as if struck. "What are you talking about?"

Minerva’s eyes softened, though there was an unmistakable firmness to her words. "Y/N is not the kind of person to wear her heart on her sleeve. But she’s a kind woman, a generous soul, and she’s been trying, in her own quiet way, to get your attention. She’s been patient, thoughtful, and kind, always offering you small gestures — a smile, an invitation, a word of encouragement — things she knew you needed, even if you didn’t ask for them. But you never noticed. You’ve always been so consumed by your own… distance, your own walls, that you failed to see how much she cared for you."

Severus felt something twist inside of him, sharp and painful. He thought of all the times he had dismissed her, all the times he had pushed her away. The little moments, the fleeting glances, the kindness she had shown him without asking for anything in return. The realization hit him like a jolt of electricity — he had been blind. Completely blind.

"She’s given up, Severus," Minerva continued, her voice full of quiet understanding. "She’s stopped trying. And that… that is what you’re feeling now. The absence of something you took for granted. But you need to realize something — it’s not too late. If you want her to stay, if you want her to know how much you care… then you need to show her. You need to show her before she walks away completely."

Her words hung in the air between them, heavy and undeniable. Severus’s mind was whirling, and his stomach churned with regret. He couldn’t let her go. Not like this. Not when he was finally starting to understand the depth of his own feelings.

Minerva stood up and placed a hand on his shoulder, her touch surprisingly gentle. "Don’t waste any more time, Severus. I’ve seen the way you look at her when you think no one’s watching. You’re not as good at hiding it as you think. She deserves to know how you feel. If you don’t tell her now, you may never get the chance again."

Severus nodded, his face grim but determined. He had no more excuses. He needed to act.

It was late in the evening when Severus finally made his way to the greenhouse. He had spent hours pacing his office, turning Minerva’s words over in his mind, until he had worked up the courage to do what he should have done weeks ago.

Y/N was there, as always, amidst the plants that seemed to bloom brighter in her presence. She was kneeling beside a potted plant, carefully tending to its roots, her back turned to the door.

For a moment, Severus hesitated. His heart was pounding in his chest, and for the first time in a long while, he felt vulnerable. His pride had kept him distant for so long, but now, standing in front of her, it felt like he had nothing left but the raw truth of his feelings.

"Professor L/N," he said, his voice low but steady.

Y/N’s head snapped up in surprise. She looked at him for a long moment, her face unreadable. "Professor Snape," she replied quietly, her voice just as cold as it had been the past few weeks. "I wasn’t expecting you."

He swallowed hard, forcing himself to step closer, the sound of his boots on the stone floor loud in the silence. "I owe you an apology, Y/N."

Her eyebrows furrowed slightly, and she stood, brushing her hands on her apron. "You owe me nothing, Professor."

Severus shook his head, the words rushing out before he could stop them. "No. I do owe you something. I’ve been… blind. I’ve ignored you, pushed you away, and I’ve been foolish. I’ve taken your kindness for granted and never once thought to reciprocate it. I never realized how much you… how much you meant to me." He paused, swallowing against the tightness in his throat. "You were trying, weren’t you? Trying to tell me how you felt, trying to show me you cared. And I—"

Y/N’s expression softened, though there was still a hint of sadness in her eyes. "Severus, you don’t have to do this," she said quietly, her voice trembling slightly. "It’s too late."

"No," he said, his voice more insistent now. "It’s not too late. I was a fool, and I’m sorry. I don’t expect forgiveness, but I can’t stand the thought of you walking away because I didn’t see what was right in front of me. Please. I—"

Y/N took a step closer, her eyes searching his face, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, Severus saw something in her eyes that wasn’t guarded. Something warm. Vulnerable.

"You don’t have to apologize," she said, her voice soft but steady. "I didn’t think you’d ever see me like that. I gave up, Severus. I thought you didn’t want me around."

Severus reached out, his hand hovering just in front of her as if afraid to touch her. "I was wrong. I was so wrong."

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The only sound in the greenhouse was the soft rustling of leaves, the distant hum of magic in the air. Then, with a gentle but firm motion, Severus reached out and took her hand in his. His heart raced, and for the first time, he allowed himself to be vulnerable — to let her see what had been hidden behind the icy walls he had built for so long.

Y/N’s gaze softened, and she squeezed his hand, her lips parting slightly as if to speak, but instead, she just looked at him — with warmth, with understanding.

And for once, Severus didn’t feel alone.

[hopefulidiocy]

Your Arms

Professor Snape x student reader

Warnings: suggestive but mainly a lot of fluff

Word count: 950

I do not own the Harry Potter characters.

Context: you suffer from night terrors and chronic nightmares, waking up to only want to be in the arms of your favourite Professor.

A/N: all characters are of age :)

⛅️I recommend listening to “Luminary” by Joel Sunny⛅️

Fear. The first thing you wake up to is fear. You clutch at your chest, your heart beating faster and faster as your eyes search around your dark dorm. Everyone is asleep soundly, without fear, around you. You notice the clock ticking towards half three in the early morning and you groan inwardly, sitting up and wiping the beads of hot sweat away from your hairline. You suffered from night terrors regularly but this is the first one in two months, you curse yourself for finding comfort in your sleep after so long. With your heart still beating, you lift the covers off your slick body, your feet landing on the cold wood as you tip toe towards the bathroom. The full moon drips in from the windows as you run the faucet, ice cold water splashing on your face finally brings you back to yourself but your breath still hitches, your shoulders heaving and you grip on the sides of the porcelain sink, breathing deeply through your nose and feel your lungs fill open with some difficulty. You wipe your tear eyes with the back of your hand and know there’s only one thing, one person, who can help you out.

You throw your Gryffindor robe around your shoulders, clipping it so you don’t look so lewd in your silk night dress that stops only at the knees. Tip toeing out of the dorm, your fluffy slippered feet land softly on the stone steps into the common room. There are some students bent over candlelight nose deep in books, too obsessed with studying to see you. You sneak away, closing the portrait behind you, careful not to wake them. Filch is wandering around with his ugly cat, you hear him whisper to himself and know that you’re in for the best sneaking you’ve ever done in your life because the walk to the Slytherin dungeons is difficult and far. The shadows become your best friends as you hop into each shadow, your feet playing against the moonlight until you reach Professor Snape’s office. Suddenly, your heart screeches to a halt. Something stops you from knocking on the door, and then you realise it’s your anxiety talking; worrying that he would turn you away from his door. His moods often swung from one extreme to the other and it’s not something you can predict. You breathe, as best as you can, fighting away the demons in your head and the pain from your night terror, trying your best to ward them off. You bring up your hand, balling it into a fist and knocking faintly but loud enough for him to call.

“Who is knocking at this time of night?” He asks sternly, the door muffling him but the angry tone evident.

“It’s me.” You whisper shout, tugging your robe at your wrists.

“Enter.” He says, still stern. You open the door, trying to minimise the creak, you pad softly into his office. Closing the door behind you and standing against it, your head slightly hanging in humiliation as you look at him through your long eyelashes. He was sitting at his wooden desk, a quill in his hand and marking essays, the candlelight flickering next to his elbows; his robe draped over the back of the chair. He doesn’t look up at you, his face falling into perplexity as he marks a particularly hard essay. He shakes his hand, putting down the quill for a moment, he always does this when his wrist grows tired from the writing. You wait by the door, not daring to inch further to him, your heart bumping hard against your chest as you relive those frightening moments your night terror gave you; a stray tear falling down your cheek. You thought this was a good idea, to be spoken by the one person who understood but maybe it wasn’t. Still, you can’t find the movement in your legs to walk out of the room.

“Um.” You clear your throat, he doesn’t seem to notice. “This was a mistake. I’m going to go.” You say uncertainly, slowly turning to the door.

“Not. So. Fast. Miss L/N.” He says, his voice still down at his essays. You rest your back against the door, breathing in through your nostrils.

“I’m sorry to bother you.” You whimper. He doesn’t say anything for a moment. He stays looking at the parchment beneath his nose, sighing as he marks something. You let all over your weight fall against the door, tears falling down your cheeks quicker. Once you sniff, he looks up. His black eyes at first angry and then soften when he watches a drop fall to your feet.

“What’s going on, Y/N?” He finally sets down his quill, clasping his fingers and resting his chin on them.

“I had a night terror again.” You wipe the tears away from your cheeks.

“There’s no need to cry, y/n. You’re alright.” His voice is laced with a mixture of concern and frustration. “You’ve come at a very bad time.”

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, unable to speak properly, the tears fall freer now.

“Come here, y/n.” He pushes his chair back, still sitting but giving you space to stand between him and the desk. You stand, sad and embarrassed in front of him. Embarrassed to be crying over something that isn’t real. “I… apologise for being grumpy.”

“You’re always grumpy.” Embarrassingly, that makes you cry more. He chuckles softly, reaching out to hold your cheek, his thumb caressing the skin just under your eye.

“Do you want to sleep here tonight?” He asks seriously, removing his hand and suddenly that space is burning for his touch again.

“Please, sir.” You sob, burying your face in your hands. You both know it’s a bad idea, the chances of people finding out about your… situationship is dangerous but right now you don’t care, you just want to be in his embrace.

“Okay, but you have to be out before breakfast.” He almost orders it, worry laced in his words. “Come here, sweetie.” You collapse your legs over his lap, you’re not straddling him because this is not the time, and your head rests gently on his shoulder. His arms drape over you, one arm around your shoulders and his other arm lying loosely over your knees. His hand rubs circles on your shoulder which he knows calms you down, his lips softly pressing against your temple. “Tell me about your night terror.”

“I don’t remember it. I just woke up sweating, I was whimpering and crying and I was so wet everywhere. My heart hasn’t even stopped hurting.” You sniff, two tears dropping onto his shoulder. He leans back slightly, wiping the tears away with his thumb, the touch so soft it eases your heart.

“I’m sorry, y/n.” He kisses the crown of your head. “I’m here.” He soothes as his arms move tighter around you, guiding him to his hard chest. You settle into his chest, going quiet as he continues marking the work in front of him. He hums a tune under his breath as his quill works fast over the parchments. Your eyes begin to droop, but not before you snuggle further into him. “Do you want to go to my bed?” He questions quietly, his focus completely on the essays.

“I’m quite happy here. Unless you want me off your lap?” You say, your voice dripping with exhaustion.

“I’m happy to have you here. As long as you feel safe.” He reaches down, pressing his lips against yours and you favour that gentle kiss, holding onto the beautiful intimacy you two are currently sharing - unlike many of the other times you’re on his lap. “Always happy to have you on my lap, in every way.” He slightly teases, trying to make light of the situation. You giggle, wrapping your robe further over your legs as they begin to shiver. “And I’ve seen that night dress. It would be nice to see it another day.” He chuckles lightly, bending his neck over his essays. You laugh in response and then exhaustion takes over, your head lolls on his shoulder and you are swept into the world of rest in the arms of the one person who makes you feel safe.

[siriusblack-the-third]

Hey I absolutely adore your Indian James headcanons can you do some for Harry too please <33

Okay this got too long so it's only Harry's first year at Hogwarts. At some point I might do the rest of his years but yeah. Here you go, i hope you like it :)

The first time Harry noticed his skin was darker than the people on Privet Drive was when he was four. The first time he noticed people sneered at him for it was when he was five and a half. He didn't understand it; why did they think the colour of his skin meant that he was inferior to them? He heard the words chee-chee and brownie thrown around like Dudley threw his food, and quietly pulled his shirt tighter around himself.

When Harry is eight, Dudley and his gang throw him in a ditch and throw dirt and soil on him till he's coughing and tears are running down his face. "You blend right into the mud," Piers laughs at him. The next day, the boy turns up to school with black skin. Harry sits in the corner and turns his face away, a secret grin playing on his lips.

He comes to Hogwarts, and there are so many colours. He is approached by Parvati on the second night, and she asks him if he's excited for Ganpati Chaturthi. He stares at her, and then says, "I'm sorry, but I don't know what that is." She gets offended, but they haltingly talk it out, awkward and stilted like most eleven year olds. When she realises that he's been kept from his heritage and his magic, she flies off the rails with anger. "That's it," she says, "we're friends now. No arguments."

Harry loves talking to Parvati. She's the one that tells him his father was from India. She's the one that tells him the names of his grandparents, that tells him of the importance of heritage in the magical world. They talk about religion and food and all sorts of things, and within two weeks Harry is asking her to teach him Marathi. It's hard at first; the grammar structure is more like French than English, the alphabet sequence is weird and complicated and has too many letters, but he keeps practising his svar and vyanjana and kana and matra. He will do this, he tells himself. (He doesn't tell Ron. He wants this for himself, he thinks. His family, his heritage. He wants to learn before he shares, and so he doesn't tell Ron. For now. He will, when he knows enough.)

Slowly, he starts talking to other Indian kids at Hogwarts. Padma, a seventh year Slytherin named Aarzoo who's Muslim and always has the prettiest hijabs, Gryffindor Kalyani from fourth year and Hufflepuff Rushabh from the third. Kalyani is from Maharashtra just like the Patil twins and Harry, Rushabh is from Gujarat and Aarzoo from Punjab. Harry finds it fascinating that India has so many different cultures and religions, and demands knowledge from them. Aarzoo laughs, and tells him he should have been with the 'Claws.

Harry disagrees. He was supposed to be in Slytherin, he knows, but he is in Gryffindor, where his family had been. His family had been Indian. He wants to know everything about it. If he couldn't have his parents, he would have that which had been a major part of his father's life. And so he reads and observes and studies and asks questions— hesitating at first in case they yell at him (Aunt Petunia hated questions and he feared these people would be the same), but slowly he asks more and more. He talks for hours with Kalyani and Rushabh, and they tell him about Garba and Dhol Tasha, Ganpati Chaturthi and Diwali, Eid and Gudi Padwa. They talk about the languages of India, and Harry immediately asks Aarzoo to teach him Urdu and Hindi. She laughs, and says he should focus on Marathi first. He pouts, but nods.

The Mirror of Erised shows him his father, and he can't take his eyes off. James Potter is a tall man, bulky frame covered in muscles and warm brown skin that seems to glow with happiness. His eyes are light brown, and the bold black lines drawn under them make the green specks stand out. He's dressed in what Harry knows is called a kurta, white and gold threads woven to form images of peacocks and elephants and other intricate designs. The next day, Harry asks Padma what she lines her eyes with, and she promptly hands him a little round metal box and a tiny wooden stick. "It's called kajal." She tells him the differences in pronunciation between Hindi and Marathi, and shows him how to apply it. Harry wears it everyday. It makes his eyes look bright, brighter than they already are, and he falls in love with it. Kalyani presses a kajal covered finger behind his ear every morning. "For good luck," she tells him, a grin playing on her pretty lips. Harry flushes, and smiles back shyly.

For Christmas, Aarzoo gives him perfume. It's chandan and mogra with hints of rose, she says, "and your grandfather made it. His name was Fleamont Henry Potter, and he was an exceptionally talented potioneer." Harry wears it religiously. Padma and Parvati band together and get him books on the Potter family and their historical importance, and he almost cries. Rushabh promises to teach him how to play Garba, and Kalyani gives him a cookbook for everyday Indian foods— breakfast and lunch and a few fancy stuff. Harry hugs it to his chest and thanks her with shining eyes. (he may have a bit of a crush on her. He can't help it— she's really smart, and she's pretty.)

Throughout the year, all of them work to introduce him to Indian food. At first, he thinks it will be easy. It is not. There is no such cuisine named Indian, Parvati tells him sternly. There is Punjabi, South Indian, Mughlai, Maharashtrian, North Indian, Bihari, Bengali and so many more. "The food in India changes with every twenty kilometres of travel," Aarzoo says when he mock complains about it. "It's never the same, and that's what makes it so special." He agrees.

The end of the year arrives, and Harry is still weak from his tryst down the trapdoor. When Ron and Hermione aren't present, his friends from home (because that's what India is, isn't it? His home. The home he never got to see, but is no less a part of him.) crowd around his hospital bed and have long talks with him, filled with banter and laughter. His Marathi is so much better now than it was in September, and he blushes when Kalyani compliments him on it. Rushabh winks at him, and Harry throws a pillow at him, feeling the blood rush to his cheeks at being caught out.

On the last day of school, he hugs Aarzoo around the waist and cries into her stomach. It's the first time he calls her "Aarzoo Tai", and she smiles widely, her own eyes dripping tears. "You will write," she says sternly, "okay? This might be the end of my Hogwarts years, but you are my little brother." He cries harder and nods, refuses to let go until the very last minute.

Harry goes back to Privet Drive with a heavy heart and a proud smile. He isn't inferior to the people there, he knows. He's special. He's Indian. He's James Potter's son, and he's going to live up to it.

[onddau]

Ron, The Barbarian 🪓 (HP x DnD AU)

[illpunchyouintheface]

Theo: We’re forgetting something

Hermione: Morals, probably?

Draco: no, it’s something important