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ms-snape · 3 months ago

Note

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

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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.

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nottsbitch · 5 months ago

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T.N.

Dating Theo Nott

#slytherin boys #theo nott fic #theo nott imagine #theo nott #theo nott one shot #matteo riddle #tom riddle #harry potter #harry potter fandom #golden trio era #draco malfoy #blaise zabini #enzo berkshire

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rottenherbs · 3 months ago

Text

MASTERLIST

Updated (hopefully) after every post <3

// Requests open! ((Just for a little hehe. )) requests for new pieces or the next chapter to any piece 🤍//

Much love, Saige

Ron Weasley:

The Sorting Game

The Strong One

Flower Boy (NSFW)

Distracted and in Dismay

NYE Headcanon

Fred Weasley:

Opposites Attract

Slumber

Just A Squib (pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3) (pt.4) (pt.5) (pt.6) (pt.7)

Hopeless crush! HC's

Sure Thing

Lover

Matchmaker (pt.2)

NYE Headcanon

Secret relationship! HC’s

Something Batty

Time For Me?

Off The Pitch (pt.2)

George Weasley

Stolen Sweater and Stolen Heart

Inebriated! G.W HeadCannons

Trouble Maker

A Weasley Holiday(pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3)

Lost to family

NYE Headcanon

Saint Like

Smoking Hot

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

NYE Headcanon

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

Christmas with Muggles

NYE Headcanon

A Couple Firsts

Secret Relationship! HC

Hermione Granger

NYE Headcanon

Neville Longbottom:

From Night One

Cedric Diggory

Coming soon <3

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nepentheansea · 11 months ago

Text

Pacify Her

𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ・𝑯𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝑷𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑼𝒏𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆

premise: The devil was real, and you were prepared to do anything for him.

pairing: Professor Tom Riddle x Fem!Reader

warnings: dark elements, toxic obsessions, possession (but not the scary supernatural kind) smut (p in v-fingering-etc) tom riddle (his own warning) there is probably a lot more...

wc: 4.2k

a/n: this is beautiful and I don't care if you don't agree. shoutout to @demiguisemoon for keeping me company throughout this ride.

enjoy the playlist that I made for this story!

He never truly knew what you were capable of, or more so what his influence would do to you, and that was the problem. He had completely underestimated you, and that would be not only your downfall, but his as well. Pretty and pliant, that's what you were to him, the perfect match, not only intellectually, but emotionally as well. You suited him. From the moment you stumbled into his compartment on the train, down to the moment that you sat down in front of him, not a word muttered, but yet a conversation was had. You understood him, and quite frankly, he understood you, or so he believed.

No one understood him the way you did, the way that you clung to his every word like gospel. Feeding into his absurdities, but never once looking at him as if he was wrong. You supported him. Truth was you were obsessed. Incomplete and broken without him, much like a wounded bird, someone he could fix, take care of, mould into something he wanted, and you lived for it. Lived for the moments that he taught you, helped you, controlled you. The moments where he needed you and only you. At his beck and call in the late hours of the night, or for the favours that could ultimately get you expelled, for anything he wanted, and you’d do it, obediently. You were his. You belonged to him from the first moment, and though neither of you knew it, he belonged to you.

“Is this seat taken?” You asked, slipping into the compartment faster than he could respond, but he didn’t. He pulled his nose from the daily prophet to study you. He had never seen you before, which was odd considering you were in his house, the green and silver snake adoring your breast, a Slytherin, and a pretty one at that, an old soul and kindred spirit…of sorts. There was something in the way you looked at him, that dutiful look in your piercing eyes, a look as if you could see into the deepest darkest depths of his soul, something he was certain he had well hidden, and yet what you saw didn’t alarm you. Somehow it didn’t scare him, it intrigued him, you intrigued him. He watched as you slid the door closed behind your back, before sliding into the seat across from him, hands trapped behind your back, and your head cocked to the side as you studied him. The slightest of smiles on your face. He should have known then, known what you would become to him, but he could never have suspected you to be as such.

Frail and malleable, obsessed and devoted, and you were his. His star, his pet, his property. You grew to need him, unable to do without the moments you shared with him. You found yourself lingering in the back of his classes, hoping that he would catch a fleeting glimpse of you, needing you for something, anything, to utilise you, need you. For the moments that he’d call for you in the late hours of the night, for the small favours that could leave you expelled or worse, with the promise that nothing bad was going to happen to you, he wouldn’t let it. The hours that you spent with him, soon turned to days, weeks, stealing away any moment that you could, eager to please, to be close. Somewhere in the dim candle light of his office, stolen glances, gentle touches, words exchanged. Finding yourself desperate for the after hours of study in the library, the ones where you could find him making his way from the restricted section, his pretty nose stuck within the pages of his books. Knowing you were there, dutifully watching him, waiting for the right opportunity to seek him out or for him to call for you.

Your life had become dull. Classes lacked challenge, you found little to no enjoyment in day to day activities, your friends became distant memories, dramatic, but even your mundane routines lost flavour. All you had was him, and the little periods of time you spent by his side. At his beck and call, seduced by the ways he consumed you. Your mind, your body, and most definitely your tainted soul. He knew it too, knew that he could use you for anything his heart desired, that you would do nothing but obey him, follow blindly if he requested it of you, no questions to be asked. A perfect pawn, follower. The more eager you became, with the incessant need to do more, be more for him, he took to it. Giving you more and more to do. It had soon become a list of tasks, simple favours as he would call it. Hide this, seek out this, do this…And you did, you did all of it.

Your blood rushed as you closed the office door behind you, back pressed against the firm wood, hands clasped behind you, as your eyes scanned the dimly lit room until you found him. In the centre of the room, sat plainly in his chair, eyes roaming your eager figure. He looked as though he sat on a throne, one of his own creation, his arms extended out on the sides of the chair, comfortable and yet cold, observant. “Did you get it?” was all he said, leaning forward over his desk, the faintest traces of a smile on his face when the stifled giggle of yours fleas from your lips. You held it up, in the palms of your small hands presenting it to him, the book he had sent you to find. Restricted, forbidden even, and you had managed it, with his help of course. “Of course.” you whispered. He beckend you over with the bend of two slender fingers, and you moved on your own volition, approaching him with such eagerness. He took the book from your palms, his fingers ghosting over your soft skin, and you wonder if it was on purpose. “Good girl.” There it was, the praise you strove for, the praise that came from him and him only. The slightest flick of his wand had the door clicking locked, as his eyes came to study you once more. There was a fascination in his gaze, the way his eyes softened to you, desperately trying to hide the hunger that he felt towards you. You had something that he had never quite found in anyone else, something that made him crave you more than he had for anyone else…and there it was, the thought that you were his and only his.

His eyes left you, meeting the pages of the book you had stolen for him, consuming every word on the stale worn parchment. While he was entranced, devouring the text, you were devouring the sight of him, leaning over the desk, eyes droning over the pages. He was stunning this way. The crease in his brow, eager to learn, and you were right there with him, desperate to know just what held him so captivated, leaning over his desk in hopes of catching the slightest bit of the contraband he had tasked you with stealing, no concern for what could have happened to you if you had been caught. But you knew that somehow, if that had been the case, he would have protected you, always, he would be there. His eyes darted up from the page, a lustful hunger to them, but for you or for the knowledge he had been enthralled with, you weren’t sure. “Look.” he instructs, slumping back in his chair, gesturing to the page, the hints of a smile on his lips. Clasping your hands behind your back, you leaned over the mahogany desk, feeling the hem of your uniform riding up in the back, exposing yourself to him as you did your best to read what was before you, eyes focussing on the text of ancient runes. It wasn’t of much use, you simply couldn’t read it. “I can’t read it, sir.” you mutter, chancing a look back at him. His eyes were shamelessly crawling up the length of your bare legs, and to the swell of your ass. He had looked at you like this before, that strained look in his eyes, like he was in deep thought but those thoughts were ones that he would never quite say aloud, the smallest of smirks on his lips, as he dragged his tongue along them. “I see..” he remarks, slowly pulling his gaze away from your ass, to meet your much more innocent gaze. It was one of his favourite things to do. To teach you, to watch you learn from him. It gave him the sweetest sense of power and meaning. “And what would you have me do about that, darling?” He leaned forward, his eyes cold and narrowed, but that flick of amusement dancing across them.

“Read it to me?” It was a simple request, your voice strong and confident. You wanted to know, wanted him to show you, and he seemed to like the idea. Tom hummed, a sweet sound of satisfaction, as his slender fingers wrapped around your dainty wrist, pulling you down onto his lap, a gesture he had never quite done before. He was confident in his motions, calculated and collected. He knew what he wanted, and that was you. His hands remained on your hips, fingers drumming on your thighs. “Read it to you, hmm?” He hums, delicately brushing a strand of your hair away from your neck, the tips of his fingers ghosting over your throat. Goosebumps lining your skin, while his other hand trailed slowly up your bare thigh. Gentle touches that were purposeful, and well measured. Even in this, he was in control. In control of himself, and of the situation. “How will you ever learn if I just read it to you?” “Teach me then..” you blurt, your voice had never been so soft, so demanding and yet desperate. “Sir..” you add, looking back at him. His thumb had started to draw soft slow patterns on your inner thigh, dangerously close to your cunt. “Teach you….” You could see that he was mulling it over…”teach you…” he cooed in approval, a sinister grin consuming his face. “Very well, darling, teach you, I shall.” He gave a hearty squeeze to your thigh, your breath hitching and your body tensing for a brief moment in his lap, shifting your attention back to his face. Pretending as if he couldn’t see the way your eyes studied him, the way they seemed to have heart shaped iris that were only for him.

His own gaze was casted past you, eyes scoured the pages before him, looking for something suitable to turn into a lesson. His hands still wandering aimlessly on your skin. “Here…let's start simple…” He leaned back enough, turning to look at you, his breath fanning across your lips from being so close. His eyes trailing up your features until his eyes met yours. “This rune here…” he starts, grasping your jaw with his index and thumb, turning your face, back to the book. “This rune…’othilia’ corresponds to the Latin letter…?” “o.” you state, looking to him for approval, his approval. A soft smile was all he gave you. “And what do you think it means…” His hand, resting under your skirt, had found its way to the crease of your hips and thighs, squeezing at the supple flesh, while his thumb thrummed against your clothed cunt. You found it hard to concentrate, to really look at the shapes on the page, but you had to. “Um…power, wealth?” you tried, letting out a breathy sigh, when his thumb found its way into the damp fabric of your panties, rolling soft circles into your swollen clit. You felt his lips against your ear, your head lulled back against his shoulder. “It means, heritage, possession..” he punctuated the last word with a flick of his thumb, a gesture that had a sweet moan falling from you. With precision he gently rolled his finger over your bud, nipping at your ear with each sweet sound you let out. “Focus….” he coos, drawing your half lidded eyes back to the book. “This one, ‘mannaz’, tell me its correspondent…” Your mind was muddled. He had pulled the wet fabric away from your cunt, traipsing his slender fingers through your folds, collecting your sweet arousal, teasing your entrance as he waited for your response. “Go on…what is it.?” You hummed softly, searching your mind for what it could possibly be. “Um..it’s ‘m’ the latin ‘m’..” you whimpered, feeling the intrusion of a single digit slipping into your sopping heat. He was rewarding you, with each correct response you gave him. “And what does it mean?”

You weren’t sure how much of this he really thought you could handle, not with the way that his finger was slowly thrusting in and out of you, his thumb languidly massaging your tender clit. He was watching you, his own gaze lidded, dark. Hungry. He was enjoying this, enjoying the way that he had you, pulling answers from you with simple touches. “Don't make me stop, what does it mean?” he teases, and yet somewhere in the pit of your stomach, you knew that he would. That he would leave you high and dry at a moment's notice. Your eyes had fallen closed, summoning all of your strength to answer him, as he slipped another finger into you, curling them against your sweet spot, just to feel your breath hitch and your body shutter in his grasp. You could feel the way that his cock had hardened beneath you, kept from you by the confines of his trousers, and it did little to help you focus any, it was cruel. “It means…ma-man?” you gasped out, his pace increasing. His lips met the side of your neck, tenderly kissing every bit of exposed skin that he was presented with, careful not to leave a single mark on that delicate skin of yours. “Very good..” he coos, his hot breath felt on your neck and ear. His fingers toyed relentlessly with your aching cunt, his thumb circling your clit gently, and his lips littering chaste kisses to your exposed skin. He had quickly given up on the lesson at hand, now far too consumed in the way that you were writhing happily in his grasp, soft sweet sounds escaping past your lips. Your back arched into him, your head resting on his shoulder as you lost all coherency. Lewd sounds left you like a sinful prayer, trickling past your lips with no real power to stop them.

You whined, feeling the emptiness in your cunt as he pulled his fingers from you, only to have them brought up to your chapped lips, as he slid not one but both fingers into your mouth, pressing down on the pad of your tongue. A silent order, to taste yourself, to clean up the mess that you had made, and you did without hesitation, closing your lips around them, letting your tongue lap up any and all of the arousal that coated his fingers. He cooed, sweet and simple praises, between delicate chaste kisses to your neck. His free hand wanders the expanse of your neck, down to the top of your blouse, deftly popping the buttons one by one. His touch was featherlight, a mere ghost over your skin, and such a thing allowed for goosebumps to litter your skin. His thumb circles your nipple through your thin bra, smiling against your neck as it perks at his touch. He loved the possession he had over your body, the way you would let him do whatever to it as if it was his own, and you would argue that it was. That it belonged to him, that you belonged to him.

You weren’t sure when it changed, the suddenness of it all, but you found yourself being gently laid down against the hard polished wood of his desk, your back draping over the materials he had been studying, and your skirt pushed up your waist. His body hovered over yours, his hands gliding up under the blouse that he had worked open, greedily exploring the exposed skin, his head ducked and lips ghosting over the spot his hands had touched mere seconds ago. Your eyes had fallen shut somewhere along the way, relying on your other senses completely. Gentle kisses, soft bites, and languid movements of his tongue as he dragged it up your sternum and neck, taking in the sweet smell and taste of your delicate skin. You arched into his touches, soft sweet sounds escaping you at every one. Each of your senses flooded with nothing but him. His lips were pending over yours, a silent acknowledgement, that everything would be on his terms, and you were okay with it.

He didn’t bother to kiss you, and you didn’t request it of him either.

Tom made quick work of removing his trousers, before his hands slid up your thighs, fingers ghosting over your cunt, teasing you just enough to keep you present in the moment. He hooked his fingers over your panties and pulled them aside, the cool air hitting your bare cunt, a soft hiss escaping your lips. With his free hand, Tom wrapped his slender fingers around your chin, using his index and thumb to pull your face up to his. His eyes were cold, animalistic desire dwelling past the dark shade of brown. He tilted your head down so that you could watch the way his swelling cock slid into your tight cunt, forcing you to understand that he owned you, now in body as well.

Your mouth hung open in a silent gasp, the unrelenting feeling of him stretching you out was nothing shy of pain, but a sweet sweet pleasure. He watched your face, mocking the way you fell silent, with a sly smirk to his perfect lips. He forced you to watch every sinful inch of him disappear deep into your greedy cunt, time and time again. He wanted you to understand, to grasp the claim he had on you. You were being rewarded for your diligence, for your obedience, and he wanted you to know that you were his, only his. No one else could touch you like this, that's what he was saying to you.

Tom let go of your face, as he gripped your hips, jerking you towards the edge of the table. Your hands fall back to support you, arching your back slightly as you watch him with lidded eyes. As he moved, his pace picking up with each passing moment, you began to lose yourself to the delicious drag of his heavy cock, your sinful mantra of moans and whimpers filling the dark empty spaces of his office. His fingers gripping onto the soft pliable flesh of your thigh and hip was bruising, another simple yet effective reminder of who you belonged to.

He watched each little tick of your face, each pleasure filled twitch of your lips as you fought off a smile at the feeling of him, taking in each little puff of air that left your parted lips, each pant and moan of satisfaction. He coaxed nothing but the best out of you, building your release at his own desire, his own pace. Your head fell back, your eyes falling closed as you did. You were consumed by the feeling of him and your body was reacting to it in the only way it knew how.

You felt his hand leave your thigh first, before feeling it wrap around your throat, his long slender fingers wrapping around the curve of your jaw, as he willed you to look at him once more.

“You keep those pretty little eyes of yours…on me,” he whispered forcefully. There was no room for mistake, you would watch him as he possessed every part of you. He controlled it all, and you’d let him, you’d let him do it forever.

That's when it all changed.

He had been sweet seduction, and the thought alone drew you closer….until she came along. Professor. Hawkethorn had never been his match, not the way you were. She didn’t understand him, she didn’t see him for what he truly was. She had fallen trap to his charm, and that was only the surface. You watched it happen, your late night sessions with him faded, he seemingly didn’t need you as much, and he gave not even the slightest inkling why. He said nothing, entertained nothing, did, nothing. His time seemed occupied, but not by you, by her. Selvine Hawkethrone, the new history of magic professor.

Fine, checkmate. He didn’t want to see you? then you would make him. See you at your fullest, see that you were always there, that you had never left, and more importantly, that you were still very much his to possess.

He needed to see you, not her. He had no business with her, she wouldn’t do the things that you did for him, you were certain of that. She was only a disruption, a threat to what you guys shared, and she had to go. You wanted to show him your devout loyalty, the extremes that you were willing to go to keep him, to protect him, to *serve* him, and so you would.

You sat in *his* chair, his office dark and cold, nothing that you minded, as you waited…waited to hear the sound of polished heels clack on in the smooth stone outside the door. You pulse steady as the door opens, a small sliver of light filling the room.

“Tom?” her soft voice echoed off the shelves of books, as she warily stepped inside. Once the door was shut, you waved your wand lazily, the candles that surrounded his office springing to life with a dull crackle. Her eyes met yours immediately, and they widened almost as if they had seen something they shouldn’t have. She looked fearful. You had a crazed look in your eyes, as you looked over her in silence. She was pathetic, dressed in her best clothes as if she was expecting to meet Professor Riddle, and that's exactly what you had told her, in your little letter. Told her to meet you here, that you desired to see her, all pretending to be your dear dear professor, and she fell for it. Pathetic.

“You don’t deserve him….” you said, your tone hollow, as you watched her flinch slightly. “Did you really think that he would want you? Send for you? Come on Selvine…you have more sense than that…” you continued, pulling yourself to stand up, walking around the desk, your fingers taunting the flame of the candle. “Professor…you were never going to be his match, his equal…he is destined for great things and you were never going to be the one to help him fulfil that…your just….” You gestured to her with the tip of your wand as if to say something cruel, your face contorted in disgust. “Weak, you're just plain….ordinary…” you said, a mock tone of pity, your face in a frown.

Selvine said nothing, but reached for her wand slowly, not sure what to expect from you, but you saw it…”ah ah ah, don’t do that..” you warned. You were now pointing your wand directly at her, your grip firm and unwavering. You take a deep breath, tired of this moment…Selvine opened her mouth to say something but you were quick to silence her, ”Save it professor, you shouldn’t touch things that aren’t yours.”

You flicked your wrist and a green jet of light bursted out of the tip of your wand without remorse. You watched with glassy, transfixed eyes as her lifeless body crumbled to the floor with a thump. The simple unforgivable curse stealing what small pathetic life she had out of her. She was gone. Dead. you lowered your wand to your side, and stood there, slightly shocked by what you had done.

Tom had slipped out from a dark corner of his office, one where he had stood, watching the entire thing transpire before his eyes. His cold gaze watching you as he approached. Your eyes snapped up to meet him, startled, and unaware that he had been watching the entire time..but that meant that he had seen it, seen the lengths you would go to just for him. You had used the unforgivable curse, for him, something that you had never done before.

You felt yourself soften, at his appearance, as he stepped over the lifeless body like it was nothing but scum beneath his foot as he approached you. Gripping your chin like a child as he pulled you to meet his gaze. He almost looked pleased, a small sense of approval in his tepid gaze.

“You can't tell anyone, Professor, I did this for you...she was a threat, and I took care of it, I killed her for you...for us.” you pleaded softly, scared that you had upset him.

The darkness he lurked in had always been seductive, and when he held out his hand to guide you, how could you say no. You followed, eyes never leaving his, entranced by the beauty of it all, the beauty of the power and knowledge that he possessed. And he was going to share it all with you. It was then that you knew, the devil was real, and you were prepared to do anything for him. “I won’t tell anyone, it's our little secret.”

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raven-dor · 4 months ago

Note

Hi, could you write something with Charlie Weasley x reader, where reader is friends with the twins and they invite her to the burrow where she meets Charlie, and she's really smart and knows a lot about dragons and that's how her and Charlie start to bond.

Also could reader maybe be a Slytherin, I'm a Slytherin so I just think reader would be too, but the house can be unspecified or something else if you want.

lost without you

in which charlie weasley meets the love of his life

PAIRING: charlie weasley x slytherin!reader

WARNINGS: fluff, sneaking around, falling out, love confessions, molly weasley (sorry...)

AN: i love this request so much... thank you for asking!!

WORD COUNT: 3.7k

🎶 : lost without you - freya ridings

She was exhausted, that was for sure. Spending all night- she blushed. She shouldn’t have done that, but he was so kind and strong. Mysterious but gentle. He was brilliant; she could tell by the look in his eyes.

She giggled as he kissed down her neck, squirming from his touch. He scoffed, no malice behind it. “Love, stop moving…”

She blushed wildly, hiding her face behind her hands. “I never do this…”

He pulled himself back to her level, prying her hands away. “There you are.” He whispered. “Don’t hide from me, please.”

“I’m embarrassed.” She whispered back. “I never-”

“Never do this.” He smirked, laying beside her and staring at her intensely. “You’ve said.”

She moved herself closer, tracing shapes on his chest. “What do you do for work?”

He laughed, and she thought to herself he had a rather jolly laugh. “Do you really want to know?”

She nodded, her eyes begging to shut. His hold was comforting despite the fact that she had known him for approximately two hours. “You look like you have a…” She yawned. “An interesting job.”

He smiled, leaning his head on hers. “I work in…”

She had fallen asleep before she had heard where.

Y/N blushed thinking about it. There she was, sleeping in a stranger's arms.

Then again, it hadn’t felt like that. It felt like she had known him for years. She shook her head, trying to stop herself from daydreaming. George laughed, nudging her ever so softly. “Wake up, Dolly Daydream.”

She rolled her eyes, shoving him away from her. “I am awake, thank you very much.”

Fred smirked. “You have that look on your face.”

“What look?” She glared. “I don’t have a look.”

He nodded. “Yes, you do.” He laughed. “It's that look when you can't stop thinking about someone.”

George wiggled his eyebrows. "A secret admirer, perhaps?"

She turned beat red, walking ahead of them to escape the interrogation.

The twins had a tradition, one they had kept up since they’d gotten into Hogwarts. Every Sunday during the summer, their best friend would come to the Burrow for dinner. There had never been a Sunday she had missed (besides the brief time she was on the run from Voldemort with Ron, Hermione, and Harry).

And in all that time, Y/N could proudly say she had met every one of their siblings. Except Charlie. According to Mrs. Weasley (who Y/N knew was prone to dramatics) he absolutely hated his family and chose the furthest possible job to worry her.

Y/N was sure it was because he actually wanted to go to Romania. All her children were good people, and she doubted Charlie stressed his mother out on purpose.

They had been walking into the Burrow when a shriek rang out from inside the home. Gripping their wands, they ran in ready to fight, when they saw that the shriek had come from Mrs. Weasley, who was sobbing rather dramatically.

They lowered their wands, peering further into the house to see a young man, not much younger than Bill, being hugged tightly by Ginny. Fred and George left their best friend's side instantly, hugging the man tightly.

“Charlie!”

Y/N tilted her head, her eyes widening instantly when he turned around.

What was he- This was the infamous Charlie Weasley. Seeker, Head Boy, and expert Dragonoligist. His grin was bright, and she loved the way his freckles accentuated his cheeks. He locked eyes with her, a twinkle appearing in them. He extended his hand, his voice light and full of humor. “You must be Y/N.”

She nodded, ignoring the fact that her cheeks felt like they were on fire. She could never tell George and Fred. “That’s me.”

He smiled, shaking her hand lightly. “I’m Charlie.”

“I know.” Her eyes widened, and she stumbled over her words, backtracking. “I meant that- Fred and George- I’ve met all of your siblings, so I just thought-”

He laughed, interrupting her. “It’s alright.”

Fred raised an eyebrow, clearing his throat. “Shall we eat? I’m famished.”

Y/N nodded, walking away from Charlie abruptly. George linked arms with his friend, pulling a face when she looked up at him. She rolled her eyes, shoving him away and sitting down.

Molly smiled at her second eldest son, loading food onto his plate. “You look as if you’ve been starved, Charlie.”

He glared, taking the food without complaint. “I’ve gained weight since you last saw me, Mum.”

“What have they been feeding you in Romania?”

“The same thing you’re giving me now, Mum.” He looked over at Y/N, winking. “I’m all muscle now.”

Fred shoved him, hissing. “What are you doing?”

Y/N’s cheeks were still red, and she looked away. Was he trying to fluster her; because he was succeeding. Charlie kept pestering her with small talk, much to her and her blushing nature’s dismay.

“What house were you then?”

“Slytherin.” She spoke through her food. Placing a hand over her mouth, she said it once more. “I was in Slytherin.”

His eyebrows rose, but he made no movement to disparage her house. “Makes sense that the twins were drawn to you.” He smirked. “They’ve always been rather cunning.”

Molly sighed. “You are one of the only Slytherins I’ve been able to stand talking to.” She smiled. “Which is quite the feat.”

Y/N smiled shyly, not liking all the attention that was currently on her. Normally, she faded into the background, only providing (what she thought) were witty remarks when necessary. And now, here he was, pulling her out of her shell. It was some kind of cruel joke, she decided, that they had met the way they had.

Loud knocks rang through her apartment, and she groaned, shoving her face into her pillow. “One moment!”

The knocks persisted, and she threw the covers off of her body, racing towards the door, wand in hand. “I said one-” She tilted her head, looking through the peephole to see Charlie. Now suddenly highly self-conscious about her appearance, she cast a beauty spell, smoothing out her hair before opening the door. “Hiya.”

He nodded. “May I come in?”

She crossed her arms. “Why?”

He smirked, stepping closer. “Is it so shocking that I wanted to see you?”

She blushed, stepping aside so he could enter. Watching suspiciously as he looked around at her flat, she shut the door. “You wanted to see me? That’s it?”

He nodded, picking up a photo album. “What’s in here I wonder?”

Y/N laughed, reaching out to steal it from his hold. “Charlie-”

“Indulge me.” He sat down, patting the cushion beside him. “Tell me about them.”

She sat beside him, peering over her shoulder and explaining each photo he asked about. “That’s me and the twins in fifth year. I think that was two days after they’d left the hospital wing.”

Charlie laughed. “When they tried to enter the Triwizard Tournament?”

She nodded, laughing with him. “Exactly. And that-” She pointed to the next photo. “Is me and George at the Yule Ball.”

He tensed. “You and George-”

She shook her head quickly, placing a hand on his arm. “We’re just friends, trust me. Ange would have my head.”

He smiled. “Ah. Well…” He looked back at the book, smirking at the baby photo. “What’s this-”

She snatched the book from his hands, clutching it to her chest. “Absolutely not.”

Charlie had been coming over practically every day since his first impromptu visit. During those visits, they’d discovered that they both had a mutual love of dragons and that her knowledge of dragons rivaled his, a professional dragonkeeper.

(She never let him forget it.)

She sat at her bar as Charlie cooked them a Romanian dish he had made ‘one hundred times before.’ Y/N trusted his cooking, after all his mother was Molly Weasley. She then reasoned with herself that his brothers were also Fred and George, who couldn’t cook to save their lives. He moved around her kitchen like he’d lived there for ages, and she tried not to drool as she watched his muscular frame.

He cleared his throat, laughing. “Williams? You alright?”

She sat up, realizing she had started daydreaming. Nodding quickly, she smiled. “Great.”

He sat his spoon down, walking over to her until they were right by each other. “Are you sure? You seemed…” He whispered, staring at her lips. “Distracted.”

She laughed, walking away. Salazar, if he looked at her like that again, she didn’t know if she could resist- “No, I-” A hand grabbed her wrist, and she gasped. Her skin felt like it was on fire. “Charlie.”

He stood behind her, his breath fanning over her neck. “Tell me you haven’t thought about that night, and I’ll stop. I swear to you.”

“Charlie, we can’t…”

“Don’t.” He pulled her close. “Have you thought about that night, yes or no?”

“Yes.” She nodded, turning around to face him. “Every night.”

He smirked, leaning down. “Every night huh?”

She nodded once more. “Charlie, stop teasing. It’s-”

He slammed his lips against hers, grabbing her legs and wrapping them around his waist. “Godric, you’re going to be the ruin of me.”

That had been months ago. She had felt horrible, keeping it a secret from the twins, Ron, and Salazar, Ginny too. She hadn’t told anyone, which could have been why she felt so wracked with guilt. It was odd, she told herself, to be sleeping with her best friend’s older brother.

But when Charlie held her in his arms, she forgot all about her guilt. Her heart felt full, and she reasoned with herself that Fred and George would be happy for her if she told them. Happy that she finally found someone that cared about her as much as she-

“Love?” Charlie's voice rang through the door. “Can I come in?”

She yelled back, casting a beauty spell over herself. “It’s open!” Walking out of her bedroom, she smiled shyly at the ginger man, holding hoards of groceries in his arms. He sat them down on the counter, taking each item out and putting them away.

“How was work?”

She shrugged. “Same as always I suppose. Kingsley told me if I keep it up, I could be one of the youngest team leads in history.” She laughed, helping him put the last of it away. “Except Harry, of course.”

Charlie nodded. “He’s quite the talented wizard.” Grabbing the vegetables for their salad, he began rinsing them off in the sink. She walked over, wrapping her arms around his torso. He hummed, smiling to himself. “Do you think we should-” She closed her eyes, taking in his rich scent of teakwood and tobacco. “Do you think we should tell my family about us?”

Her eyes shot open, and she pulled away from him like he was scolding hot. “What?”

His back tensed, but he didn’t turn around. “Mum’s been asking to meet the girl who’s been taking up all my time.”

“Well, what did you say?” She walked toward her fridge, grabbing a butterbeer.

“I said I’d have to ask her.” He turned around, watching anxiously as she refused to make eye contact. “So, what do you say?”

“Charlie…”

His voice was small. “Are you- are you embarrassed?”

“No it’s not…” She sighed. “It’s not that, Charlie. I just-”

“I’m sorry I brought it up.” He interrupted. “Let’s just go back to making dinner.”

She nodded, not wanting to break their peace. But as the night went on, she realized their peace had been broken as soon as she said she hadn’t wanted to tell everyone. The air was tense as they ate, the once warm air turned freezing from the distance between them. She cleared her throat, setting down her fork. “I’ve been meaning to bring this up to you.”

His face looked sullen, but he sat his fork down as well, staring into her eyes. Her heart fluttered, Salazar, he was beautiful. “Yes?”

“I-” She gulped. “I think we should stop seeing each other.”

He nodded calmly. “Is there someone else?”

She shook her head adamantly. “Merlin, no! I just… I think it’s odd. Don’t you?”

He tilted his head. “What do you think is odd about this?”

“That you and I-” She stuttered. “I’m their best friend.”

He nodded. “You are.”

“It feels wrong, lying to them.”

“Well,” His voice held a frustration she had never heard before. “That is why we'd tell them.”

“Charlie…” She was getting tired. “It’s not fair to you; me not wanting to tell them. I’m just-”

“What?” He laughed hurmourlessly. “What are you?”

“You could be out there, finding someone who you could end up…” She blushed. “You know.”

He stood up, grabbing his things. “I thought that was you.” His eyes looked heartbroken, and she honestly didn’t know why she was doing this to them. Everything was fine, why- “Because you are.” He smiled lightly. “You are that for me.”

Her eyes started tearing up. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “It’s alright.” Opening the door, he whispered over his shoulder. “I’ll see you around then.”

She’d been a mess for weeks. She’d practically shunned everyone from her life, only going to work because she needed money to live. Peeling off her dress robes, a knock echoed through her flat. Odd, she hadn’t had any planned visitors. “One moment.”

The knocks were never ending, and she rolled her eyes, stalking towards the door. “I said-” The twins stood in front of her. “Oh.” She stiffened. “Hi.”

They scoffed, George breaking the tension. “You look like a right mess, Williams.”

Fred nudged him, murmuring. “George…” He smiled at the girl standing in front of them. “You alright love?”

Her eyes widened. The last time she’d been called love… It was like she couldn’t forget him. She nodded, ushering them in. “Sit, sit.”

They came in, taking in their surroundings. Fred cleared his throat. “What have you been up to?”

“Nothing much.” She forced herself to smile. “How’s the shop?”

George squinted. “We haven’t seen you for three weeks, and you’re asking how the shop is?” He stood closer to her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “What happened, love?”

“I-” Her throat felt as if it was closing. “Nothing. I swear.”

He shook his head. “Fine, you don’t need to tell us.” He sat down on the couch, Fred following after him. “Mum’s been asking why you haven’t come to dinner lately.”

She winced. How would she get out of this?

Answer: she wouldn’t.

Because moments after, they were flooing to the Burrow, Mrs.Weasley wrapping her arms around her. “Where have you been?”

She blushed, hugging the older witch back. “Work was busy.” She winced as Mrs.Weasley’s unconvinced stare pierced her soul. “I’m sorry.”

Mrs. Weasley laughed, ushering her inside. “No apologies necessary. Have you been eating? You look frail, dear.”

“I-” Charlie was in the kitchen, and upon hearing his mother’s voice, turned around. She felt like she could melt. “Weasley.”

He nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. “Williams.”

Mrs. Weasley interrupted. “Why don’t you take a seat in the living room dear. I’ll add an extra plate to the table.”

She nodded. “Thank you Mrs.Weasley.” Scurrying past Charlie, she plopped down on the couch, staring at the ceiling.

“You’re alive.” A woman’s voice broke through the silence. She turned her head over, smiling at the new presence.

“Hey Gin.” She stood up, hugging her tightly. “I missed you.”

Ginny hummed. “I missed you too.” Pulling out of the hug, she grabbed her friend's hands in hers. “Tell me what happened between you and Charlie.”

Her eyes practically fell out of her sockets. “What are you-”

Ginny glared. “Don’t play dumb with me. He’s been a whiny mess lately, that can’t be coincidence.”

“There could be a million reasons for why he's whining. You don’t-” Ginny sat down on the couch, pulling her along.

“What did he do?” Ginny whispered. “I’m very skilled at the Bat Bogey Hex.”

She laughed. “I know you are. Trust me, it wasn’t his fault. I-” She sighed, leaning against the back of the couch. “I thought you’d be upset at me, if you knew I was seeing your brother. Besides, Charlie is sweet, I’m not the right fit for him.”

A deep voice echoed through the room. “Don’t you think that’s for me to decide?” Ginny’s eyes widened, and Y/N stared back, begging her not to leave. “Could you give us a moment, Gin?”

She held on to Ginny’s hands as tightly as she could, but Ginny pulled away, murmuring sorry as she raced out of the room, no doubt telling her boyfriend and entire family. So much for secrecy. Taking a deep breath, she stood up, waving casually. “Charlie.”

“You’re not the right fit?” He scoffed, walking close enough so that he could whisper and only she would hear. “You’re not the right fit, really?”

“You know what I meant.”

“I don’t really.” He grabbed her hands in his. “You are what I’ve-” He took a deep breath, most likely gathering the courage to tell her. “You are what I’ve always wanted. What I’ve always dreamt of.”

She blushed. “Don’t patronize me…”

“Love…” He tilted his head. “You are everything to me, and it kills me to be apart from you. Really.”

“I don’t know how the twins would react-”

“Who cares!” He yelled, quickly remembering he was inside and lowering his voice. “Who cares? I love you and I-” Charlie’s golden eyes widened, and he stuttered. “I mean-” His smile was sure, brighter even. “I love you, and if you love me, then we can make it. Through anything, including my brother’s disapproval.” Pulling her as close as he physically could, he whispered. “I don’t think I can be that separated from you ever again. It was torture, Williams.” He leaned down, their foreheads leaning against each other. “Utter torture.”

“I love you too-” He pulled her lips to his, kissing her as deep as his body would allow him. She squeaked, melting in his touch. “Charlie, wait just a moment.” He groaned, leaning his head on her shoulder. “I know you could do perfectly fine with your brother’s disapproval, but they’re my best friends. I can’t just… I can’t lose them.”

He whispered into the crook of her neck, chills running down her spine. “Even if that meant losing me?”

She kissed his temple, humming. “I’m sorry.” Forcing herself to pull away, she ignored the chills that fell down her spine when Charlie grabbed her wrist, halting her in her tracks.

"I admire it, how fiercly loyal you are to my brothers." He laughed. "Very Gryffindor of you, I must say."

She scoffed, her eyes tearing up ever so slightly. "What can I say? Weasleys are worth protecting."

The table was tense, Y/N avoiding every attempt Charlie made at eye contact. The twins were suspiciously watching the pair, wondering what exactly was going on. Ginny had surprisingly not told everyone, contrary to Y/N’s belief. Mrs. Weasley tried to make conversation, but she only made the situation worse. “So Charlie, whatever happened to that girl of yours? The one you were sneaking off to see.”

Y/N looked up from her plate, staring at Charlie. He sighed, taking a sip of water. “She’s busy Mum.”

Mrs.Weasley nodded, turning her attention to Y/N. “And you dear? How has work been? I hope Kinglsey isn’t giving you too hard of a time.”

“Work’s been fantastic, thank you Mrs.Weasley. I actually…” She took a deep breath, grinning from ear to ear. “I just got promoted to team lead.”

The table erupted into well wishes and congratulations. Mrs.Weasley smiled. “That is wonderful dear. You must be the youngest yet.”

She nodded, giving a pointed look to Harry. “Besides this one, yes.”

Charlie cleared his throat. “Congratulations, Williams.”

The table quieted, and Y/N smiled gratefully, daring to make eye contact with him. “Thank you.”

Ginny coughed, obviously trying to get her attention, but Y/N couldn’t be bothered to break eye contact with him. His eyes were dangerous, she’d determined, and there was a spark in them that was not there earlier. Butterflies erupted in her stomach, and she shook her head slightly.

He was about to do something neither of them could take back, she knew it.

She also couldn’t find it in her to care.

Charlie stood, his seat scrapping against the floor. His parents’s eyebrows furrowed. Mr.Weasley spoke first. “Are you alright son?”

Charlie nodded, still looking at Y/N. “I’m perfect. I-” He smiled. “I have something to say.”

Mrs. Weasley smiled knowingly. “Spit it out dear.”

Y/N held her breath, nodding encouragingly. A second wind overtook him, and he stood strong. “I’m in love-”

Mrs. Weasley grinned. “That’s wonderful dear!”

Fred and George teased. “Lucky girl, that one.”

Y/N tried to control her blush. Charlie smiled. “I’m in love with Williams.”

She looked around the table, trying to gage reactions based off their expressions. Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked positively shocked, and Fred and George… Her eyes widened. They didn’t look shocked in the slightest. Charlie continued. “I don’t want to upset you two, but we-”

George laughed. “Why would we be upset?”

Fred nodded. “We’ve known for months.”

Mrs. Weasley scoffed. “Months? Charlie Weasley, you kept this sweet girl a secret-”

“That’s actually my fault Mrs.Weasley.” Y/N interjected. “I- I didn’t want to upset the twins.” They pulled faces, rolling their eyes. “Why would we be upset? If anything, we’d be upset at Charlie for corrupting sweet little Y/N/N.”

Y/N shoved them. “Shut it, both of you.”

Charlie smiled, sitting back down. “Well I guess that’s settled then.” Y/N smiled back, mouthing the words he so longed to hear. ‘I love you.’

Mrs. Weasley sighed, picking at food. “Shall I be expecting more grandchildren anytime soon?”

Y/N choked on her drink, clutching her chest. Charlie’s eyes widened, cheeks bright red. “Mum!”

“I’m only asking.” Mrs. Weasley held her hands up in surrender. “Victorie has been so lonely.”

Charlie tilted his head. “We’re not even married yet, Mum.” He looked over at Y/N, winking. “But that can be arranged.”

It was Y/N’s turn to scoff. “Charlie Weasley, absolutely not.”

He stuck his lower lip out, pouting. “What-”

“Ask me in a year, not before then or after.” She nodded resolutely, taking a sip of her pumpkin juice, ignoring the looks from her friends.

Charlie nodded, looking much too happy. “Yes ma’am.”

taglist: @beebeechaos

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wizardemotions · 11 months ago

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pinterest showed me some screenshots of posts that gave me the concept for an au where both harry and ron are sorted slytherin & draco is just slightly less rude in the first book. i could go into why i think this makes a lot of sense for ron but i won't. i've affectionately dubbed them the platinum quartet in my head and they will not leave me the fuck alone

#quill to paper #draco malfoy #harry potter #ron weasley #hermione granger #romione #drarry #slytherin harry #slytherin ron #golden trio #platinum quartet #actually i'll go into why it makes sense for ron here in the tags.#imho a major slytherin trait is ambition #and ron *has* ambition he's just never had it actively encouraged and fostered #book fucking one the mirror of erised shows him winning the quidditch cup & being head boy and all #he HAS ambition! and by god does he have something to *prove*#youngest weasley boy who desperately wants to do something different from his family #not get lumped in as 'just another weasley'#he's the anti-sirius in this context tbqh. old pureblood family of gryffindors and he's plastering his room at the burrow w green and silver #in my head draco is also in the train compartment when ron walks in and asks to sit there & harry speaks first so draco shuts up #a little tense but draco also relaxes a little bit. he's ELEVEN he just wants FRIENDS.#ron watches the boys he sat with on the train both get sorted slytherin and has just the biggest burning desire an 11 yr old can have #to get into slytherin instead of gryffindor. to do something different from his other siblings at the gryff table. to Prove Something #the hats like 'ohh. a weasley huh. but so much to prove... there's real ambition #and the potential for cunning... slytherin? alright #good luck! slytherin it is!'#and draco's smug little ass is like 'i suppose there's hope for the weasleys yet if they can turn out a slytherin #and ron is psyched out of his eleven year old gourd bc harry fucking potter is grinning and clapping for him #and also because percy n the twins look SHOCKED AS FUCK as do half the profs #snape is over at the table realizing w complete clarity that he's going to be put thru the ringer as slyth head of house these next 7 yrs

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issues4him · 2 months ago

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𐙚 height difference headcannons

IN WHICH - draco is oddly obsessed with your guys' height difference. (i'm short & have a thing for tall guys - this one's for me ok? ok. call it a kink if you will)

warnings - fluff, smut 18+

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

- you have always been quite short for your age. you stand at just 5'0 (152 cm) tall.

- you always been shorter than average. you get mistaken for a first year quite often. if you get stuck in a crowd of them, there's no luck finding you.

- draco has always been quite tall for his age. standing at a magnificent 6'4 (193 cm), he's always seemed to be the center of attention.

- this is a source of great pride to him as he enjoys any opportunity to show off, whether he's standing on his tip-toes, or towering over anyone, especially you

-you noticed when you first started talking that draco definitely had a 'thing' for your height.

- you couldn't lie - you did too. it was the first thing you had noticed about each other.

- he'd always call you 'tiny', 'shorty', and 'pocket-sized'.

- the first thing he said to you was, "wow, did you drink the shrinking potion on accident?"

- after the first couple times you talked, draco nearly made it routine to poke good fun at your height

- he wasn’t so subtle with the flirting lol

- like he wanted to compare hand sizes all the time

- not slick at all, malfoy

- you found it so blush-inducing when draco picked you up like you weighed nothing.

- it made draco feel strong.

- your sex life was a struggle at the beginning

- the only way you could have shower sex was if draco held you up against the wall with your legs hooked around above his arms.

- 69 was pretty much a no-go. either one of you was getting head or not at all.

- BUT... cowgirl seemed to be draco's favorite.

- he loved the way he could see himself inside of you, bulging from your lower stomach.

- he also loved the way your hands and mouth fit around his dick

- it just made him feel bigger lol

- people always ogled at your height difference

- girls would constantly tell you they were jealous of the distance between you two

- omg draco LOVESSS the way you absolutely drown in his clothes.

- you once put his robe on & the bottoms of it were on the floor, sleeves entirely too long, and hood covering your entire face

- Draco couldn’t help but take a picture

- he keeps that picture by his bed

#draco is so effing cute #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy smut #draco x reader #draco fanfiction #draco lucius malfoy #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #hogwarts #hufflepuff #gryffindor #slytherin #ravenclaw #sirius black #ron weasley #hermione granger #golden trio era

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deadsnakey · 5 months ago

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𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐎

❀⋆.ೃ fluff ೀ Headcanons. . .ᐟ 0.3k words★⋆.˚ ୨ ୧┈─★

˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡.

ꪆৎ You and hermione are best friends for sure, very sassy and chaotic duo.

ꪆৎ Ron loves sharing his chocolate frogs with you whenever he has extra, if you also really like them.

ꪆৎ Youre most likely also a gryffindor, but if youre not then be considered lucky, especially if youre a slytherin.

ꪆৎ If you are in a different house, they'd probably were sisicious at first of you, let alone if you're a slytherin, it probably took a long while for them to see that youre intentions were good and thats when they start being a little more nicer to you.

ꪆৎ If youre a gryffindor, you probably got into some trouble rather on accident or not and they had to save you, resulting in knowing your name and then sticking with them for the rest of hogwarts.

ꪆৎ You four are always making trouble, everywhere you go is trouble dude it's inevitable.

ꪆৎ If youre foreighn / have an american accent, youd talk british sometimes and they try and impersonate you, probably ask you how to pronounce some words like sum’fin.

ꪆৎ You definitely steal harry’s glasses because you think its funny but he knows youll give them back if he asks.

ꪆৎ You think its funny how sassy ron is, but goddamnit it can be ridiculously annoying sometimes, he’s kind of a smartass, especially as a child. (year 1 through 3, after that he got better with it.)

ꪆৎ you three protect each other all the time, its the only right thing to do.

ꪆৎ its someones being a testa di cazzo to you, don't worry cause the twins, and the three of them got your back and defending you.

ꪆৎ Fred and George are nice to you, you guys probably are good friends since you're really close to Ron. you probably have met at least half of his family.

ꪆৎ they genuinely refuse to get into any trouble without you unless they necessarily have too.

ꪆৎ you and Hermione are the brains of the friendship, the boys share one singular braincell throughout all the years.

ꪆৎ Hermoine and you love to get a break from the two boys, so late night sleepovers or hangouts with just the two of you are more common then you'd think.

ꪆৎ you probably developed a habit of bringing lots of snacks in your bag and dorm because of Ron specifically. boy always asking if you have snacks or food.

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msvanillalatte · 9 months ago

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Studying and...? Pt. 1

SUGGESTIVE CONTENT! YOU'VE BEEN WARNED

Having to do a project with Mattheo Riddle was a living hell. And not just because you hated him with every inch of your soul, but also because everything had to be his way. You had to meet up with him according to his schedule, write the way he wanted to, and basically, do whatever he told you to. Absolute hell.

You couldn't stand his stupid comments nor the annoying smirk that appeared on his face every time your face went red because of your anger.

"You know, maybe you shouldn't be so sour all the time. Just relax, we've already finished the work." Mattheo said with a cheeky tone, watching you re-reading all the pages and changing stuff.

"Will you please shut up? The last thing I want to do is relax with you." You fired back and sat on your bed to get as much distance as you could from him.

Mattheo's smirk only grew after hearing you. He wouldn't admit it, but secretly, he loved your attitude and the way you didn't care about what he thought of you, and that was something unique.

"Calm down princess, no need to be so rude, you really hurt my feelings." The boy put his hand on his heart and acted offended while smiling from ear to ear.

"Don't call me that." You said, but you knew that deep down, that nickname did sinful things to you. Your thighs instantly closed and your cheeks flushed pink.

Mattheo watched you intensely, and for the love of god, he couldn't stop. You looked like a stressed mess, but really hot. He felt the pressure on his jeans and a smirk appeared on his face when he saw you looking at him in a way you've never looked at him before. With lust.

Slowly, the boy in front of you made his way towards you, and even if you wanted to feel him everywhere, that would be against your principles. Mattheo Riddle was the boy you despised the most, with his snarky remarks and mean comments. But you couldn't stop looking at him. He was handsome, you've always known, but didn't pay much attention to it until now. The way his hair was perfectly fine and his posture radiated confidence had you at his feet.

"Don't come near me, Riddle. Stay over there until we finish going through this papers and then you can leave." The words rushed out of your mouth, desperate to get him as far from you as you could.

"You sure about that? It doesn't seem like you don't want me near you." Mattheo said while pointing with his sight at your clenching thighs...

IM BACKKKKKK. Should I continue this? It's based on a prompt I got, but please let me know if you'd like to keep reading this!!!

SORRY IF I MADE ANY GRAMMAR MISTAKE, ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE!

-MsVanillaLatte

#mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #matt riddle #matt riddle smut #harry potter #writing #fanfic #slytherin smut #slytherin boys #golden trio slytherin #golden trio era #slytherin #slytherin boys fic #slytherin boys react

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pottermagiczz · 7 months ago

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When you have a haters to lovers story

Harry: *leans it to kiss Y/n*

Y/n: *slaps him*

Harry: Merlin, Y/n! What was that for!?

Y/n: F*ck! Sorry! I forgot that we're dating now

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vipwinnie · 11 months ago

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Rumors

mattheo riddle x reader

Matheo's heart hammered against his ribs as he approached his room, the weight of doubt heavy on his shoulders. The rumor had spread like wildfire, consuming every corner of the school. His hands clenched into fists as he replayed the whispers echoing in the hallways, each word driving a wedge deeper between him and his girlfriend, you .

Spotting you sitting on his bed, he quickened his heart pace, his mind racing with questions and accusations. As he reached you, he took a deep breath, steeling himself for the confrontation.

“We need to talk" Matheo said, his voice strained with emotion as he stood before her.

You look up, your eyes meeting his with a mixture of surprise and concern. "Matheo, what's wrong? You look upset."

Matheo struggled to find the right words, his throat tight with uncertainty. "I... I heard something," he began, his voice faltering. "About you and... someone else."

Your brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean? Who said what?"

Matheo hesitated, the weight of the accusation heavy on his tongue. "It doesn't matter who said it," he replied, his voice tinged with bitterness. "What matters is whether it's true or not."

Your eyes widened in shock. "I do not know what you’re talking about . Talk to me , I do not understand what’s happening."

Matheo felt a pang of guilt at the hurt in her eyes, but the doubt had already taken root in his mind. "I want to believe you " he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "But the rumors... they're everywhere."

You reached out, taking his hand in yours. "Matheo, please. What is this rumor , please calm down"

But Matheo pulled away, the fear and uncertainty consuming him. "I need some time to think," he said, his voice hollow with regret. "I'm sorry ."

As Matheo walked away, leaving you lost on his bed, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had just made the biggest mistake of his life.

Days turned into weeks, and the distance between Matheo and You grew wider with each passing moment.

You were at your potion’s class when you discovered the truth.

"...did you hear about y/n and Cormac?" whispered a voice from the neighboring table, barely audible above the clamor of the class.

Your heart skipped a beat as you strained to listen, your curiosity piqued by the mention of your name. You leaned in closer, your pulse quickening with apprehension.

"They've been spotted together, looking awfully cozy," another voice replied, tinged with gossip and speculation.

A wave of disbelief washed over you as she struggled to process the words you had just heard. your mind raced with questions, your thoughts spiraling into chaos as she tried to make sense of the rumors swirling around her.

With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, you realized that she had stumbled upon the reason why Mattheo had broken up with you : Cormac. The name echoed in her mind like a curse, dredging up memories she had long tried to forget.

You were walking as fast as you could . The only thing that you needed now was to punch Cormac.You had finally found him in a random corridor.

Your voice trembled with suppressed rage. "Did you spread those rumors about me and you?" you demanded, your eyes flashing with anger.

Cormac's smirk only widened, his tone dripping with mockery. "Oh darling, you really think anyone would believe you're innocent? You've always been too naive for your own good."

Your fists clenched at her sides, her nails digging into her palms. "You're lying," she spat, her voice barely above a whisper. "You did this to hurt me, didn't you?"

Cormac chuckled darkly, his eyes glinting with malice. "Oh, it's not just about hurting you, sweetheart. It's about showing everyone how you really are – in love with me"

Anger surged through you like a tidal wave, her resolve hardening with each word. "You don't know anything about me," you shot back, your voice rising with fury. "You're just a coward hiding behind lies and deceit."

Cormac's laughter echoed through the alley, a cruel sound that sent shivers down your spine. "And what are you going to do about it ?" he taunted, taking a step closer. "You can't fight the truth, no matter how much it hurts."

It was too much for you, revenge took over. And your point left with force in Cormac's head. So hard that he lost his balance and fell to the ground.

You didn't waste time and ran, you now had to find mattheo and explain the whole situation to him.

Matheo tried to focus on his studies, to bury himself in the routine of college life, but the nagging feeling of uncertainty gnawed at him, a constant reminder of what he had lost.

Then, one day, as he sat alone in the library, a familiar voice broke through the silence.

"Matheo."

He looked up to see you standing before him, your eyes red-rimmed and weary.

“ What are you doing here?" he asked, surprised by your sudden appearance.

"I need to talk to you," you said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Matheo's heart skipped a beat as he watched you stand in front of him . "What is it?"

You took a deep breath, steeling herself for what you was about to say. "I need you to listen to me, Matheo. Really listen."

He nodded, his heart pounding in his chest.

"The rumors... they're not true," she began, her voice trembling with emotion.

“It was all Cormac” you said

"I would never cheat on you, Matheo. I love you."

Matheo felt a wave of relief wash over him, mingled with a deep sense of shame for ever doubting you.

"I'm so sorry, " he said, his voice choked with emotion.

He stood up and took you in his arms .

Matheo looked into your eyes, his heart overflowing with love and gratitude. "I don't ever want to lose you, my love. Will you forgive me?"

You smiled, a tear slipping down your cheek. "Of course, Matheo. I forgive you."

#harry potter #mattheo riddle #lorenzo berkshire #fanfiction #halloween #halloween fanfiction #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle blurb #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle fanfic #mattheo riddle fanfiction #mattheo riddle fic #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #golden trio #harry potter fanfic

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ms-snape · 5 months ago

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Ok but perhaps you can please write something about severus having a to take his chubby little one year old daughter to work with him because mom was tired that day? Like just fluff

Title: Hope Eleanor Snape

Warning: Pure fluff

Words Count: 2800+

Masterlist

---

Severus Snape had never imagined himself the type of man to carry a baby through the halls of Hogwarts. Certainly not on a weekday morning, with a class full of inattentive students awaiting his arrival in the dungeons. But here he was, doing just that, the weight of his one-year-old daughter settled comfortably on his hip as her small hand tangled in the collar of his robes.

Hope Eleanor Snape was everything Severus never thought he deserved—soft where he was sharp, light where he was dark. Her chubby cheeks, flushed from a restless night, were pink against the stark black of his robes, and her eyes, a deep, intense black like his own, gazed up at him with an innocent curiosity.

It had been one of those mornings. Y/n, his wife, had been up with Hope for most of the night, soothing the little girl who had stubbornly refused sleep. When the morning sun peeked through the window, Y/n had barely stirred, her exhaustion evident in the deep circles beneath her eyes. Severus had kissed her forehead gently and told her to rest, knowing full well he would have to bring Hope with him to class.

As he strode through the corridors, Hope seemed fascinated by everything around her. The echo of his boots on the stone floors, the soft flutters of a tapestry as they passed, even the flickering of torchlight caught her attention. She babbled, her tiny voice filling the silence of the usually foreboding dungeons, and Severus found himself listening, a faint smile playing on his lips despite himself.

The doors to his classroom loomed ahead, and Severus sighed quietly, preparing himself for what he knew would be an unusual lesson. He adjusted Hope in his arms as she tried to reach for a lock of his hair, her small fingers grasping at the air with determination.

"Let’s see how you handle this, little one," Severus murmured under his breath. He could already predict the scene that awaited him: distracted students, whispers, stares. Not that he cared for their opinions, of course. His concern was that Hope, with her boundless curiosity and penchant for grabbing things she shouldn’t, might cause a disruption he’d struggle to manage.

Pushing open the door with a sharp flick of his wrist, Severus entered the classroom.

It took precisely three seconds for the room to descend into absolute silence. The students, who had been murmuring among themselves as they set up their cauldrons and ingredients, froze in unison, their eyes wide and disbelieving as they took in the sight before them.

There stood their typically dour, imposing Potions Master, dressed in his usual billowing black robes, holding a small, chubby child who was currently sucking on two of her fingers and blinking curiously at the room.

Severus didn’t need to speak to command their attention; the sheer absurdity of the moment had done that for him.

Hope, oblivious to the stunned looks from the students, wriggled slightly in his arms, tugging insistently at his robes as if trying to gain his attention. She was used to being the center of attention, after all—especially from her mother, who doted on her endlessly. And even though Hope loved his daughter with a fierce, protective intensity, he wasn’t as effusive with his affections as Y/n was. It was just his nature, but Hope didn’t seem to mind.

The baby let out a soft coo, her voice high-pitched and cheerful, and Severus felt the eyes of the entire classroom zero in on her. He could practically hear their hearts melting. He sighed.

"As you can see," Severus said in his usual low, silken tone, "My daughter will be joining us today. Your focus, however, will remain on your potions. I will not tolerate any distractions." He let his gaze sweep across the room, daring anyone to challenge him.

But it was a hopeless demand.

The students’ attention was already fixed on Hope, and there was little he could do to break the spell she seemed to cast. Several girls in the front row were exchanging looks of utter adoration, their eyes wide as they took in Hope round cheeks, the way her tiny fists grasped at her father’s robes, her dark curls tousled in an adorably messy way.

"She’s so cute," someone whispered, followed by a chorus of murmurs.

Severus raised an eyebrow, his lips tightening, though he couldn’t bring himself to truly reprimand them. Eleanor was, in fact, a spitting image of her mother, save for the eyes. Those deep, fathomless black eyes that mirrored his own made her seem more serious than any baby had a right to be. But her chubby face, her sweet, infectious smile—those were all Y/n. It was as if the world had taken Y/n’s softness and poured it into Eleanor, creating this little bundle of joy who had quickly become the center of Severus’s universe, even if he was reluctant to admit it openly.

He walked to his desk, settling Hope into a conjured playpen near his chair. She babbled happily as she was placed among her toys—plush creatures that Severus had charmed to move on their own, a small wooden wand Y/n had given her to wave around harmlessly, and her favorite—a stuffed dragon with large, flapping wings.

"Now," Severus said, his voice sharp as ever, "today’s lesson is on the brewing of Draught of Peace. You will follow the instructions precisely, or you will face the consequences."

But even as he spoke, he could feel the collective attention of the students drifting back to Hope. It was impossible not to be captivated by her. She sat happily in her playpen, one pudgy hand holding the dragon’s tail while her other hand reached for her mouth, gnawing on her fingers as she gurgled contentedly.

Severus began to pace the classroom, his usual routine of observing students’ progress, though today his sharp remarks were fewer. He found himself glancing over at Hope more often than he would have liked, just to ensure she was content. She, in turn, occasionally caught his eye and gave him a bright, gummy smile, causing an unexpected warmth to flood his chest.

She really did look so much like Y/n.

As the students measured out their ingredients and stirred their cauldrons, Severus heard more than a few muffled giggles from the back of the room. He turned just in time to see Hope standing up in her playpen, holding onto the side for support as she bounced on her chubby little legs. She was clearly proud of herself, her cheeks flushed with excitement.

"Sit down, Miss Snape," he murmured, almost to himself, and with a wave of his hand, the playpen gently lowered her back onto her bottom. Hope blinked, momentarily confused, before resuming her exploration of the toys.

The class went on, but the students were hopelessly distracted. Severus caught Hermione Granger looking over at Hope at least three times, her hands hovering uncertainly over her cauldron. Even Draco Malfoy, usually so focused on his potion work, had his attention split between stirring his potion and watching Hope as she waved her little wand in the air, making nonsensical motions.

Finally, one student—a Slytherin girl with wide eyes and a nervous smile—raised her hand hesitantly. Severus nodded toward her.

"Professor, uhm, sir, is she always this—um—energetic?" the girl asked, glancing at Hope as she attempted to chew on the stuffed dragon’s wing.

Severus arched an eyebrow, casting a glance at his daughter, who was now gnawing intently on the plush toy, her face scrunched in concentration. She paused only to look up at her father and giggle softly, a sweet, bubbly sound that filled the room.

"She is… persistent," Severus said at last, his voice a touch softer than usual. It was the truth. Hope, much like her mother, had an unyielding spirit. Once she set her mind to something—whether it was staying awake through the night or trying to stand in her playpen—she did it with all the determination a one-year-old could muster.

The students exchanged looks, their smiles widening. Severus knew he had lost their attention completely by this point. And yet, as he glanced at his daughter, now thoroughly entertained by her toys, he found he didn’t mind nearly as much as he thought he would.

The lesson continued, albeit with more focus on Hope than on the potions. Severus moved between the desks, making the necessary corrections to students’ work, though his mind was never far from the playpen by his desk. Every now and then, Hope would let out a delighted squeal, drawing the eyes of every student in the room.

By the end of the lesson, as the students began packing up their materials, Severus returned to his desk. Hope was beginning to tire, her little head bobbing slightly as she fought off sleep. Her dark lashes fluttered as she rubbed at her eyes with a chubby fist, and Severus could see that she was losing the battle.

He bent down, lifting her from the playpen and cradling her against his chest. Hope sighed softly, her thumb finding its way into her mouth as she nestled into the warmth of his robes.

The classroom had fallen silent again, the students watching with wide eyes as their stern, no-nonsense professor gently rocked his daughter in his arms. It was a sight none of them would forget—a rare glimpse of a different side of Severus Snape, one they hadn’t known existed.

"Class dismissed," Severus said quietly, his voice softer than usual. The students filed out, casting one last look at the sleeping baby in his arms before leaving the dungeon.

As the door clicked shut behind them, Severus looked down at Hope. She was fast asleep now, her small hand clutching the front of his robes, her breathing slow and even. He stroked her hair gently, his heart swelling with an unfamiliar warmth.

"You’re too much like your mother," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "And that’s a good thing."

For a moment, standing there in the quiet of the empty classroom, Severus allowed himself to smile. It was a small, fleeting smile, but it was real. And in that moment, with his daughter safe and warm in his arms, the world seemed just a little bit brighter.

With a practiced hand, Severus gathered the lesson plans and potion ingredients, all the while cradling Hope effortlessly in his other arm. It was a strange sensation—this constant awareness of her weight against him, the softness of her small form in his embrace. He hadn’t planned on being a father, hadn’t imagined this life for himself, yet here he was, completely captivated by the little girl who had somehow become the center of his universe.

Gently, he draped his black cloak over her, tucking it around her tiny body to shield her from the chill of the dungeon air. The familiar sweep of his robes trailed behind him as he strode out of the classroom, his footsteps echoing through the empty corridors. The journey back to his quarters was a quiet one, with only the soft rustling of Hope’s breathing to break the silence.

As Severus neared the entrance to their private quarters, he murmured the password under his breath, and the door swung open with a soft creak. The warmth of the room hit him immediately, a sharp contrast to the cool dungeons. The hearth in the corner flickered with a soft, golden glow, and the scent of herbs—Y/n’s doing, no doubt—permeated the space, creating a cozy, inviting atmosphere.

Y/n was curled up in one of the armchairs near the fireplace, a book in her lap, though she looked as if she’d only just woken up from a long-needed nap. Her hair was tousled, and she wore a loose sweater that made her look even softer and more serene than usual. As the door closed behind him, she looked up, her eyes immediately softening as she saw Severus standing there with Hope in his arms.

A small smile spread across her face, the kind of smile that made his heart stumble in his chest, though he’d never admit it. "There you are," she said quietly, her voice still tinged with the remnants of sleep. "How did it go?"

Severus crossed the room, moving toward the fireplace as Hope stirred slightly, her little head nuzzling further into his robes. He adjusted his hold on her, cradling her with the kind of tenderness that still surprised him, even now. He lowered himself into the chair opposite Y/n, careful not to jostle Hope too much.

“It was… interesting,” Severus replied, his tone dry, though the corners of his lips quirked ever so slightly.

Y/n raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Interesting, hmm? Do tell.”

Severus leaned back in the chair, one hand still resting protectively on Hope’s back as she dozed. “It seems our daughter has a talent for distracting an entire classroom full of students,” he said, his voice laced with a rare trace of amusement. “No matter how much I tried to focus them on their potions, they were more interested in her antics.”

Y/n let out a soft laugh, her eyes twinkling with warmth. “Well, can you blame them? She’s impossible to ignore.” She set her book aside and rose from her chair, moving over to sit on the armrest of Severus’s chair. She gently brushed a lock of dark hair away from Hope’s forehead, her fingers soft and tender as they moved over her daughter's sleeping face. “She’s always been a bit of a scene-stealer.”

Severus glanced down at Hope, watching the steady rise and fall of her tiny chest. He couldn’t argue with that. Hope had a way of drawing attention without even trying, her innocence and joy a sharp contrast to the darker, more complicated world around her.

"She’s just like you,” Severus said quietly, his voice carrying a depth of emotion that he rarely allowed to surface. “She has your light."

Y/n tilted her head, her gaze softening even more as she looked at him. "And she has your strength," she murmured. "Those eyes of hers—they’re yours, Sev. And that determination? That’s all you."

For a long moment, they sat there in the quiet warmth of the room, the fire crackling softly in the background, casting a golden glow over the scene. Y/n’s hand rested on Severus’s shoulder, her touch grounding him, while Hope’s small form was tucked safely against his chest, her warmth seeping into his very bones.

Severus’s gaze drifted to Y/n, taking in the gentle curve of her smile, the way her eyes crinkled at the corners when she looked at him. He had never imagined himself in this kind of life—never imagined that he could feel this kind of peace, this kind of contentment. But somehow, against all odds, it had found him. She had found him.

After a moment, Y/n stood and moved back to her chair, but her eyes lingered on the scene in front of her—Severus Snape, the man who had once been so distant and untouchable, cradling their daughter with all the tenderness in the world. The sight filled her with a quiet sense of joy, one that she had never quite expected, but was grateful for every day.

“So,” she said softly, settling back into her chair, “do you think you’ll bring her to class again?”

Severus raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching in something that resembled a smirk. “Perhaps,” he said. “But I’d prefer not to lose control of my classroom every time she decides to babble at them.”

Y/n chuckled, the sound light and musical. “I’m sure they were all enchanted by her. You know she has that effect on people.”

Severus hummed in agreement, his fingers absently tracing small circles on Hope’s back as she shifted slightly in his arms, her tiny hand clutching at his robe. “She certainly does,” he admitted quietly.

For a while, they sat in comfortable silence, the fire crackling softly and casting flickering shadows across the room. Hope remained blissfully unaware of the world around her, tucked securely in her father’s embrace, her tiny breaths filling the space with a sense of peace.

Y/n’s gaze softened as she watched them, her heart swelling with love for the two people who had become her entire world. She reached over, her fingers brushing against Severus’s hand. “You’re a good father, you know,” she whispered, her voice filled with quiet sincerity.

Severus didn’t respond immediately, his eyes focused on the sleeping form of his daughter. But after a moment, he squeezed Y/n’s hand gently, his voice barely above a whisper as he replied, “Only because of you.”

And in that moment, as the fire crackled softly in the hearth and the world outside seemed so far away, Severus Snape allowed himself to believe that perhaps, just perhaps, he was deserving of the happiness he had found. Because here, in this quiet corner of Hogwarts, with his wife beside him and his daughter safe in his arms, he had everything he had ever wanted but never thought he could have.

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