#harry alone would probably be fourth or fifth. but putting him in third in a similar situation as gideon is very good

[wizardemotions]

y'all just wait until i draw fem draco. it'll be all over for you (and also me, she's hot and i fucking KNOW this in my heart)

[iamnmbr3]

Hi again :)

Two questions actually:

First why didn't Lucius buy Draco another broom? I know JKR meant for Harry to have the bestest broom ever but I wonder why Draco never got a broom upgrade? His parents can afford it and I dont see why Lucius would deny his son a faster broom. Especially after he became prefect.

Second, why exactly is Harry so obsessed with Draco early on? Its obvious why Draco goes after Harry given he is famous and all. But why the other way around? Before Draco ever really did anything to hurt him, he was putting Draco on the same level as his abusive cousin, which makes no sense, and getting all angry at Draco getting care packages. What's his problem? Why pay this rich kid so much attention??

Hello! :D Once again, thank you for your patience. This was a cool ask so I wanted to do it justice.

1)

On your first point, I think a couple of factors are at play, but basically Lucius was probably feeling a bit fed up at that point and also he quickly had other things on his mind due to Voldemort's return. What do I mean by that? Well, in second year he already seems annoyed with Draco for coming second to Hermione in school and is kind of Done TM with hearing Draco talk about or complain about Harry (to be fair Draco did seemingly spend the whole summer doing this). Then he goes out and gets Draco on the Quidditch team and buys the entire team really good brooms. And Draco STILL loses to Harry (though only just). And presumably still comes second to Hermione in school. I think Lucius might've been less than pleased with this.

Plus, Draco's more of a talker than a doer. Yeah he complains about Hermione but he doesn't actually do anything to her because of his aversion to violence. If Lucius and his Death Eater buddies had got ahold of her at the Quidditch Cup they wouldn't have insulted her. They would have hurt her. And they would have enjoyed it. Draco would not have the stomach for that, and Lucius might already be beginning to suspect that. Not to mention, Lucius actually doesn't approve of Draco's open rivalry with Harry. He feels that it is smarter to at least pretend (at this stage) to like Harry since openly seeming anything other than grateful for Voldemort's fall is unwise politically. Draco of course is incapable of leaving Harry alone since if he can't be in Harry's life as his friend he's determined to be in his life as his Nemesis TM. Lucius probably views this as shortsighted and is likely annoyed by it.

Furthermore, the Firebolt is REALLY expensive. Even Harry, with all his wealth, decides it would be unwise to buy it. I mean, it's not really something you would usually use for a school team. It's what professionals at the Quidditch Cup use. So after buying a whole team's worth of brooms and being a bit displeased with Draco, Lucius may not be in the mood to get him something so fancy. Still, Lucius might have bought it for Draco eventually but let's remember the timing. Harry gets the broom midway through third year. Lucius doesn't feel inclined to rush out that minute and buy Draco a new broom (again).

And then fourth year rolls around. The Triwizard Tournament means there's no Quidditch so there's no point. Plus Lucius is probably distracted by the fact that his Dark Mark is getting clearer every day and oh no what if Voldemort isn't actually dead? What if he comes back? What if he's mad at all the people who didn't stay faithful to him...?

And then Voldemort DOES come back. And Lucius has...so many problems. First he has to tell Voldemort that he kinda sorta might've lost his diary. Whoopsie. And that...does not go well. then he's busy trying to stay alive and un-tortured and trying to regain Voldemort's favor during fifth year. And then he gets caught at the Department of Mysteries and arrested. Probably broom buying is the last thing on his mind.

2)

(First, as an aside, I don't know that Draco's interest in Harry is purely based on his fame. I mean, he tries to befriend and impress Harry in Madam Malkin's before he even knows who he is.) But anyway, both of them seem to be mutually drawn to each other even though their relationship is an acrimonious one almost from the beginning. Yes, Harry almost immediately takes a dislike to Draco. But he's also very aware of him. And that...never stops.

I'm not sure I would say that Harry exactly puts Draco on the same level as Dudley, but he is immediately reminded of Dudley due to Draco's boasting. Draco speaks in a way that makes Harry think he is spoiled and privileged...like Dudley. Draco also declares he'll bully his father into getting him a broom. This is a boast because he's trying to show off to impress Harry.

Lucius and Narcissa are not Vernon and Petunia. They do a lot for Draco but they would never allow him to push them around the way Dudley does his parents. Harry doesn't know this however, and takes Draco at his word which makes him draw a parallel to Dudley in his mind. Draco's bullying and bigoted behavior also further turns Harry against him. He's never afraid of Draco though in the way he is of Dudley, so the dynamic is different.

But yeah. Harry is...really hyper aware of Draco. Not because he's scared of him. But just because he can't seem to look away. They orbit and play off each other right from day one. Harry immediately recognizes Draco when he meets him again on the train (and Draco also remembers Harry right away). He watches Draco's sorting and where he goes to sit. He dreams of Draco his very first night.

I'm not sure Harry even knows why this is. There's just something about Draco that he's drawn to, even when they aren't friends, even when they are bitter rivals. They can never forget each other or look away from each other. Harry isn't like this with other people he dislikes. He's not like this about Zacharias Smith or Crabbe or Goyle or Michael Corner or Cormac McLaggen or even Snape or Voldemort.

There's something different with Draco. Something more. To me, that something is drarry.

[vukovich]

peculiar prompts: fuck or die, but their dicks get bigger every second

A Mounting Problem

"Don't eat those." Ron came around the bend in the trail. Draco scoffed and picked several more scarlet berries, adding them to the pile in Harry's outstretched shirt.

"They're wild cherries," Harry said.

"This," Ron swept his arm out over the lush valley, "is an old wizarding land preserve." He pointed at the thorny bush. "And those are twiggenberries, not cherries."

Draco stuck his tongue out and blew a raspberry. "Are, too."

"What would you know about foraging, Malfoy? You hadn't eaten a meal outdoors until this week."

Draco scrunched his face up and mimicked Ron.

"Fine." Ron adjusted his pack and side-stepped around them. "Don't be late to the top of the rise. And don't eat those berries til you're back home. Alone."

"Yes, Father," Draco said snidely to Ron's retreating back.

Harry pretended to gag.

"Heard that!" Came Ron's voice.

--

Harry swatted a mosquito against the inside of the tent and shot Draco a triumphant grin, but Draco's attention was on the bag of berries in his lap.

"Ron said not to eat those here."

"Ron says a lot of things. I'm hungry." He crossed his outstretched legs over his sleeping bag and Harry wondered if he shouldn't hand-feed Draco.

"Someone failed to guard the camp from raccoons." Draco popped a big, glossy berry in his mouth. "And someone cost us what smelled like a wonderful crockpot of chili."

"I said I was hanging back to take a nap, and I did. I didn't know none of you latched the crockpot." Harry rolled onto his side and clicked a small lantern on. "Give me one."

Harry opened his mouth and flicked his gaze back and forth between the berries and Draco's eyes. Draco let him look like a confused fish for a few moments before selecting a berry.

They were large, for wild berries. Almost like small plums, but a bit more pointed at one end, and deep red. Draco traced it over Harry's bottom lip before shoving it in, and then followed with his fingers for good measure.

Harry grunted in surprise, but sucked Draco's fingers clean before biting into the berry. It popped open in a rush of cloyingly-sweet bubblegum, and broke against the roof of his mouth like an overripe grape. He grabbed a bottle of water from the foot of his sleeping back to dilute the overwhelming taste.

Draco smirked and shoved what had to be his fourth or fifth one into his mouth.

"You can have the rest," Harry said, capping his water and laying down.

He clicked off the light, and Draco sealed the bag and laid down next to him. Harry started drifting off almost immediately, but Draco tossed and turned.

Harry cracked an eye and was met with Draco's eyes glinting in the filtered moonlight. "Do you think they're awake?"

"Ron and Hermione?"

"No, the wampus cats. Of course Ron and Hermione."

"Probably not. I think they hiked twelve miles today. Why?"

Draco walked fingers over their sleeping bags toward Harry's chest, and then diverted southward.

"No reason..."

"They're heavy sleepers."

"Mm hm..."

Draco tugged at the drawstring on Harry's pajama bottoms. Harry bit back a smile and let him pick at the knot until Draco started muttering swear words under his breath.

Harry rolled on his back and unceremoniously shucked his pants and pajamas off, and threw his t-shirt on the pile at the foot of his sleeping bag.

He couldn't read Draco's expression, so he clicked the lantern back on. Wonderment. Draco was staring at Harry's dick in absolute wonderment. Harry was flattered, then aroused, but then mildly alarmed, because Draco just kept staring.

Harry glanced down and didn't see anything more interesting than his own erection, and still Draco watched it, and Harry watched him. But... why would he be hard already?

Harry wrapped a hand around his semi-hard dick, but his fingers only just met around it. That wasn't right.

Draco tilted his head to one side. "I think those were psychedelic berries."

"Oh, shit," Harry whispered. He worked his fist over the head of his cock, just in case this turned out to be a really good trip. "Oh... shiiiiit. How many did you eat?"

"Five?" Draco licked his lips. "Your dick looks bigger."

Harry stopped stroking. "I think it is bigger."

Harry's thumb and middle finger couldn't touch, and felt like they were actively being pushed way. The skin of his cock grew achingly tight and over-sensitive.

"Shit. What do we do?"

Draco scooted closer. "I can think of several things to do."

Panic rose a cold sweat over Harry's chest. "What should we do?"

"Again, I can think of-"

"RON!" Harry shouted.

A rustle in the other tent, followed by a groan, and "Wassit?"

Draco leaned down slowly, eyes on Harry, sneaking his mouth closer to Harry's dick and fooling no one.

"What do those berries do?" Harry shouted, then swallowed a whimper as Draco's lips spread over the head of his cock.

"The fuck you think a twiggenberry does?" Ron grumbled. An owl hooted nearby. "You didn't eat one, did you?"

"Uhm." Draco's tongue against the tight-stretched skin was already too much. "Yes."

"Guess it could be worse. You gotta get somebody to help you blow your load before your dick drains your blood supply." The owl hooted again, and it sounded rather concerned. "Doesn't work if you do it on your own."

Draco slurped enthusiastically and winked.

"Sounds like you've got it under control. And I've got ear plugs. Good thing you only ate one. G'night."

"Ron! RON!" Harry tugged Draco up by the hair. "Shit. Now what?"

Draco held Harry's gaze while he slid his tongue out and prodded Harry's dick with the tip. "Mm?"

Harry nodded and tried to relax as Draco's mouth enveloped him. He blew out a long breath and forced himself to not think about anything but the wet heat sliding over his cock. Not about dying with an enormous dick hanging out. Merlin help him if Dumbledore met him on a platform in this condition.

Draco shifted, snuck a hand in his own pajamas, and moaned around Harry's cock.

"Fuck," Harry whispered. Draco's shoulder shook as he stroked himself in time to his mouth on Harry. He moaned again, and tension build at the base of Harry's cock. "Fuck, I'm gonna come."

Draco wrapped both hands around Harry's thick length, and the pressure in his hips broke, spilling into Draco's mouth. Harry's breath shuddered out as Draco slowed, swallowed, and grinned at him.

"I've got something for you." He rose up on his knees and Harry's dick gave a feeble throb at the size of the tent in Draco's pants. "Roll over, size queen."

It wasn't that Draco wasn't well-endowed. He was... fine. But Harry's tastes ran... larger. A lot larger. Like the bludger bat of a cock Draco was wrangling out of his shorts.

Draco reached into a bag, then tossed a tube of lube on Harry's pillow. That dick was so perfect Harry could have cried. And he did.

Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. Draco straddled Harry's thighs and plopped down, massive erection slapping against Harry's spent cock.

"Uhm... What's wrong?"

"I ate-" Harry sobbed. "-the chili."

"Okaayyyy..." Draco shook his head and waited for Harry to explain, but comprehension bloomed over Draco's face. "There were no raccoons?! Harry James Potter, you ate half a crockpot of chili and blamed raccoons?!"

Harry nodded and hid his face in the crook of his elbow.

"I HAD TO EAT BONER BERRIES FOR DINNER AND NOW YOUR VERY FUCKABLE ARSE IS FULL OF CHILI?!"

Harry nodded again. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, I am not putting my dick in that."

"I'm really, really sorry."

"I'll bet you are." He felt Draco's breath against his ear. "Sorry you're not getting your greedy little hole stretched open by this."

Draco pressed his cock along Harry's abdomen for emphasis. He ran his chin down Harry's jawline and sighed. "Wanker."

Harry moved his arms, sniffled, and snuck a kiss on Draco's nose before he sat back up. "I guess wanking, it is. I don't think I can fit it in my mouth."

Draco walked his knees up to Harry's waist and sat on his flaccid dick. Hard.

"I always had a theory that Parseltongues could unhinge their jaws like snakes."

Harry only half-heard Draco, because the dick sitting on his chest was fucking amazing. It was still Draco's, but huge. He would have gladly impaled himself on this beast of a dong, but no. The chili had smelled too damn good.

Draco flipped the cap on the lube open and emptied it out on what was rapidly becoming a third leg. Harry wrapped both hands around it, and the overlap of his fingers shrank as he watched.

He stroked, slow and steady, trying to keep a familiar routine in a very new situation. Draco's head lolled to the side, and his lips pressed against his own shoulder. Harry smiled softly and tightened his grip. Even full of dick-enhancing berries, Draco couldn't come without his lips against bare skin, even if it was his own.

Draco tilted forward, but caught himself. He wavered above Harry.

"I'm dizzy."

Harry looked up and met glassy, vacant eyes. His fingers barely met around the dick in his hands.

"Oh, shit." His mind raced. "Lay down. Lay down on me right now."

Draco fell forward, chest on Harry's face. Harry grabbed Draco's hips and pushed him down until their lips met. "Shit. Draco, stay awake."

Draco hummed against Harry's lips, and Harry stroked dick like Draco's life depended on it. Up and over the swelling head, thumbs working the underside of Draco's cock until Draco's back stiffened.

Cool lips found Harry's, and Draco whimpered, hitched, and the dick in Harry's hands throbbed. Hot rivulets flowed through his fingers, and he absently thought a cock that big should put out a whole lot more come than this.

Draco sighed into Harry's neck. "That was good."

Harry slid his hands out from between them and wiped them on Draco's arse. "That was close, is what that was."

"Mm hm."

"Are you just going to fall asleep on top of me?"

"Mm hm."

--

Harry woke at dawn to a startled owl hoot, a scuffle outside his tent, and then the walls of the tent shaking violently. He popped up on his knees to look through the mesh window.

The sun was just peeking over the treetops, and Hermione stood outside, hands on their tent, hair in a tight braid, dressed for a hike already.

"Get up, losers! We're going berry-picking!"

[mediocre--writing]

Heyyyyyy can you write something sweet with George Weasley?

Maybe reader works in a flower shop nearby? Or literally anything with him because reasons😄 thanks😘

Summary: After your initial meeting, you and George become fast friends, but what if there’s more under the surface?

Word Count: 2066

Warnings: none

The Weasleys, a large pack of gingers who seemed to always overtake any space they were in, were on their yearly trip to Diagon Alley.

As usual, it was destined that one of them would get lost or get distracted by the pretty displays along the sidewalks.

Ginny, the youngest of them, was entranced by the flower shop near the corner of the street. There was a lovely bouquet of daffodils near the window and their bright color was so magical, she felt as though they were calling to her.

As the rest of the family moved onward, Ginny started walking towards the flower shop.

The twins, ever the distracted, decided to follow their younger sister into the shop.

An older man stood behind the counter, going through the till, wrapping coins into rolls and putting old receipts in a box. Behind him, there was a woman arranging a bouquet of roses and baby's breath.

There was soft music playing in the shop and when the bell above the door rang, both the man and woman turned to look at Ginny, then the twins behind her.

“Hello!” The woman perked up at the shoppers, “What may I do for you all today?”

“Just looking around, ma’am,” Ginny spoke as she looked around the shop.

There were vines crawling down the walls, lavender in bunches hanging from the ceiling, drying out. It seemed as though flowers were being grown in the shop itself, rather than another field somewhere.

A younger girl, probably around the twin’s age, came from the back of the shop, flowers braided into her hair as well as pinned on to her apron.

Fred had followed Ginny over to the window display, where she saw the daffodils, and George had been taking in the spectacular shop. The girl who had come from the backroom looked at George for a moment, recognizing him from somewhere.

“Do you go to Hogwarts?” She asked him, jumping him out of his trance. He nodded, “Me too! What year are you?”

“Going into Third, you?” He asked, unconsciously straightening his sweater.

“Going to Third, as well,”

She has such a pretty smile, George thought to himself as he stared at her face, which had to be made by the gods.

“So why’re you here?” She asked kindly, to which he jabbed his thumb over to Ginny and Fred.

“Sister came in ‘cause she thought the flowers in the window were pretty.”

“Cool, cool,” She nodded. “So what’s your name?”

“George,” he smiled, then nodded over to his siblings, “That’s Fred and Ginny.”

“Well, my name’s Y/n. What house are you in?”

“Gryffindor,” He held himself up a little straighter, as if being a Gryffindor was the greatest accomplishment. “What house are you?”

“Slytherin,” She smiled and he felt his brain hurt after her statement.

She was so kind and sweet and if he had to guess, he would have said Hufflepuff, or maybe Ravenclaw, but not Slytherin.

“Right, well,” He didn’t know what to say, how were you supposed to react to that?

Luckily, he didn’t need to respond, as Fred had called him to leave the shop and go back to school shopping.

“I’ll see you at school!” Y/n yelled to him as he walked out, but she didn’t get a response.

“Make another friend, Bug?” Her dad asked sweetly.

“Probably not,” She smiled the best she could.

While walking away from the shop, Fred noticed that George seemed out of it, he wasn’t laughing along with them.

“What’s up?”

“The girl in there, she was sweet, right?”

“Seemed it,” Fred commented, “You were all blushy around her,”

“She’s a Slytherin,”

“Ooh, bad luck,” Fred said, then the conversation was dropped.

He tried not to think about her.

He didn’t think about her smile and how she seemed so inviting. He didn’t think about the pretty red flowers she had in her hair. He didn’t think about how she had dirt all over her apron and clothes, but still looked absolutely stunning.

He most definitely didn’t think about how in her element she looked in the shop, like there was no other place in the world where she felt so at home.

It wasn’t until they were back in school that he saw her again. But it took a few weeks into the term for them to talk, since they hadn’t been alone.

They talked for the first time when McGonagall had to separate Fred and George, so she stuck George next to Y/n.

She smiled at him, and he smiled back, but seemed tense and reluctant when doing so.

She tried to start conversations, and he talked along, hesitant at first, but ultimately relaxed as she went on about her day, or a story from when she was younger, and he would respond with a childhood story of his own.

And thus began the wondrous friendship between a Goofy Gryffindor and a Sweet Slytherin.

Every once and awhile, she’d sit with the twins at dinners or breakfasts, which got her weird looks the first few times, though people were used to it by the fifth time.

With the years following, they only ever got closer.

She comforted him in their fourth year when his sister, Ginny, had gone missing during the Basilisk attacks.

He wouldn’t leave her side when word of Sirius Black being near the castle was going around.

When he and his family had gotten tickets to the Quidditch World Cup, she’d been invited, being close with the twins and all.

Molly instantly took a liking to her, especially because she showed up with a bouquet of Our Molly Roses Y/n had made as a thank you.

When the attacks happened the night after, George refused to let her out of his sight, insisting that she preceded him while running to the forest.

He’d become a bit more protective after that, not letting her out of his sight when he could help it.

During their sixth year, when he and Fred tried to get past the age line, she was the first to laugh. That year, she also became closer with Ron, Harry, and Hermione.

Ron was a little twerp and Harry had so much anxiety she wasn’t sure how he was still alive. Hermione, however, became a good friend to Y/n. She looked up to her as an older sister, which made Y/n want to cry, being an only child and all.

But as the Yule Ball approached, Y/n was being asked left and right, given her kindness and beauty wooed most of the boys, and some girls, at Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang alike.

George instantly felt inferior compared to all the others attempting to coerce her into being their date. He felt he had an advantage, however, given she’d said no to every person who’d asked her so far, and he was her best friend.

When he’d finally gotten the courage to ask, a mere week before the dance, they’d been laying on a hill far from the castle, watching the sun rise early in the morning.

She was the only person to make him wake up at the ass-crack of dawn to watch a measly sunrise.

She was threading flowers around themselves, fashioning a ring of yellow and green as she picked them from around where they lay.

While she was focusing on her flower crown, peeking up at the vibrant sunrise every once and awhile, George couldn’t take his eyes off of her beautiful side-profile.

He admired the way the new sunlight made her face a beautiful golden shade and enhanced each curve and point of her face.

“Stop staring, Weasley,” She said with a smirk as she continued her ring of daisies.

“Wasn’t staring, L/n,”

“Don’t lie,” she chuckled as she began to wrap the first daisy around the last, officially making the circle.

“That’s a wonderful flower crown you’ve made there,”

“Yeah, I’m giving it to the most amazing person I know,”

The way she looked into his eyes made his heart falter for a moment. He felt like she could see into his soul, like she knew what he wanted to ask her.

However, she proceeded to place the daisy crown onto her own head, straightening it as she kept eye contact with George, who let out a loud snort.

“Of course,” He said through giggles, eventually laying back onto the grassy hill, her body following after his once the crown was secure on her head.

“I mean, could you think of anyone better?”

“Never,” He smiled as he tilted his head to stare at her. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Course,” She smiled, “But if you want the crown you’ll have to fight me for it,”

“Oh, I’d never steal your crown, your highness,”

“Ooh, I like that. You should always call me ‘your highness,’” She smirked wickedly, but her eyes were filled with pure joy. “So what’d you wanna ask?”

He scratched his head, pushing his hair out of his face. “I know you’ve been asked by just about everyone, and said no, but would you want to go to the Yule Ball with me?”

“Yes,”

“That was quick,” He grinned at her immediate response.

“Well I’ve been waiting for months,” She rolled her eyes. “All those other people just wanted to go with me to say they went with me, but if I went with you, then it would really mean something.”

“You mean a lot to me,”

“Same here,”

They laid there, in their chunky sweaters and pajama pants, on that hill, until they could see kids walking to their first class of the day.

George and Y/n had the same first period class, so they leisurely walked to the greenhouses in their warm pajamas and none of their school supplies, to which they talked their way out of a detention with Sprout, and then got dressed and grabbed their stuff before going to their second period.

As the Yule Ball drew closer, Y/n became more and more frazzled.

The night of, she’d promised to help Hermione first, given she was going with Victor Krum, and therefore had to have the first dance. She’d done her hair and gotten mostly ready, apart from the dress and final details, then gone to prepare her little friend.

Y/n had done Hermione’s hair, which looked great, thank you very much, and helped her learn to walk in the heels she’d gotten, which was a lot harder than it needed to be.

About 20 minutes before Hermione needed to leave, Y/n had gotten her dress on, since it needed to be tied in the back, and gotten Hermione’s opinion on her hair and makeup.

Y/n then sent Hermione to the dance.

She was still making sure that her hair wouldn’t get too out of place and was fastening her shoes when she began to hear music from the Great Hall.

She was running so late.

She raced down as quick as she could in her heels, trying not to sweat too much as she got to the Great Hall.

Waiting until the first song finished, she pushed open the door and began searching for George, who was already staring at her in awe.

So was most of the hall.

Scurrying over to the ginger, she couldn’t wipe the smile off her face.

“You look…” He let out a breathy sigh as he couldn’t find the words.

She had on a deep green ball gown that had a faint floral pattern on the skirt, shining in the lights. In her hair, just like the day they’d met, she had flowers braided into her hair, yellow ones this time, and they looked almost as beautiful as she did

“And you as well,” She chuckled as she took in his maroon, velvet robes that had lace detailing on the trim, though it looked really good on him, or maybe she was just biased.

“Shall we dance, your highness,” He bowed jokingly.

“Ahh, you remembered my real name, how nice,” She laughed as they went out to the dance floor, twirling around and smiling brighter than any other couple there, and drawing the most attention, too.

For good reason though, they gave hope to others that happiness bloomed from the heart, and despite scary times, love would grow endlessly.

[moony-artnstuff]

Counting up the seconds

Frodo x F!Reader

Summary: After the fellowship has entered the woods of Lothlorien and spoken to lady Galadriel, Reader notices that Frodo is missing. After she goes to search for him, she finds him sitting alone against a tree, crying. He tells her about the worries about the quest, how he’s still grieving over Gandalf and about what the lady of light has told him. The reader comforts him.

Note: I put in a Harry Potter reference at the end, so if anything seems familiar that’s probably why!

A sigh left your mouth as you sank into the hot water. Lady Galadriel had welcomed you and the rest of the fellowship into her realm, and had offered you food, a bed and a bath, and you weren’t about to pass the opportunity to get thoroughly cleaned. After you had put the Lavender-smelling shampoo in your h/l h/c hair you sunk back into the water, with only your head and your knees sticking out. Your mind drifted back to Gandalf and his fall, the memory almost immediately making you tear up. His death had taken a toll on all of you, but it seemed especially hard on the hobbits.

‘‘Poor things.’‘ you mumbled. The water had started to lose it’s warmth, so you rinsed out your hair, put on the clean clothes provided by the elves and made your way back to the rest of the fellowship. You sat down next to Frodo, who greeted you with a small smile and a nod, which you returned. Nobody was in the mood to talk, but in the distance a faint singing could be heard.

‘‘A lament for Gandalf.’‘ Legolas spoke softly. He had changed into a silvery-blue tunic and loose pants.

‘‘What are they saying?’‘ Sam asked.

‘‘I do not have the heart to tell you,’‘ the ellon answered, his usual bright eyes dull from sadness, ‘‘for me the grief is still to near.’‘ 

And it was for you, too. So you bid everyone goodnight and headed of to bed.

It was very late when you woke up again. The moon stood high in the sky, casting a faint glow over your sleeping companions. You smiled at how peaceful they all looked, despite Gimli’s loud snoring in the background. Then your eyes caught sight of an empty bedroll. Frodo, you thought. Where has he gone of to? You quietly made your way past Boromir, Merry and Pippin to the other side of the room and sneaked out. He couldn’t have gone far, you thought to yourself, when suddenly you were stopped by the sound of someone crying. And when you looked around a big tree you saw Frodo, sitting on the ground with his knees to his chest, tears in his big blue eyes, trying to stifle sobs that made your heart ache.

‘‘Frodo?’‘ you called out, placing a hand on his shoulder. Frodo’s head shot of and his eyes widened at the sight of you. Oh no, you were the last person he wanted to see him like this. He had a crush on you ever since you joined the fellowship in Rivendell. Eru, you must probably thing of him as a weakling. He wasn’t a strong warrior like you and he had already trouble carrying the ring and now you saw him crying and-

‘‘Frodo? Frodo! Are you okay?!’‘ Your frantic voice brought him back to reality again. Both your hands were on his shoulders now, an you had a worried look in your eyes.

‘‘No.’‘ he croaked, and that’s when he broke. Big tears fell down from his eyes as broken sobs left his throat, no matter how hard he tried to stop them. He felt embarrassed. You were his crush, he wanted to show you he was strong and brave, not pathetic and weak.

‘‘I’m sorry-’‘ he choked, ‘‘I don’t mean to be a burden.’‘ but you only shushed him and took him in your arms, placing a kiss between his brown curls.

‘‘It’s okay, Frodo. It’s okay to cry.’‘ you whispered, softly rubbing his back. It took a while for him to fully calm down, after which you both shared a moment of comfortable silence.

‘‘Do you want to talk about it?’‘ you asked, your arms still wrapped around him. He thought for a moment.

‘‘I can’t do this y/n,’‘ he let out a sigh, ‘‘this whole quest is just- and- and this horrible ring-, I know that I volunteered to take it to Mordor, and I want it destroyed, truly! But,’‘ he swallowed, ‘‘I’m starting to regret going on this quest. And now with Gandalf’s death-.’‘ But he got cut off by the upcoming tears, so instead he laid his head on your shoulder.

‘‘Will I ever see the Shire again?’’ he asked, and you turned to face him.

‘‘You will.’‘ you answered, and you continued;

‘‘Think of it like this. You know how when people die, people say they’ve run out of time? As if there is an hourglass or a clock ticking away the seconds? What if, instead of counting down the seconds, you count them up!’‘ Frodo looked at you, confusion written all over his face.

‘‘What do you mean?’‘

‘‘I mean it like this. Right this very moment, despite how dangerous this quest is, you are save. You can go to sleep, walk around, you can even do a handstand!’‘ and you stood up to do the latter, making him chuckle.

‘‘Right this very moment, you are safe. And look! Another second has passedl And a third, a fourth, and a fifth, and you are still okay!’‘ you took his hands in yours, a blush making it’s way to both of your faces.

‘‘Whenever you feel scared or worried about the future, just keep counting up the seconds. And I promise, Frodo Baggins, you will see the Shire again, and until then, I will be right by your side every step of the way.’‘

Then Frodo did something he hadn’t done in a very long time. He smiled. And oh, what you wouldn’t do to make him smile like that every moment of the day. But it quickly disappeared as he said;

‘‘You won’t be, though.’’ You frowned at that. Of course you were going to be there for him. He was your friend. You cared for him, loved him, even! But you weren’t going to tell him that just yet. Seeing your expression, Frodo quickly explained,

‘‘I spoke with lady Galadriel a little while ago. She told me about what would happen should this quest fail, and that to be a ring-bearer, is to be alone.’‘

‘‘Hmmm,’‘ you said, ‘‘I suppose that just shows that even the wisest can say stupid things sometimes.’‘ Frodo sputtered, did you truly just call the lady of light stupid?! You chuckled at his reaction.

‘‘It’s just that, if I were to be Sauron, i would want you to feel alone, because if it’s just you, you’re not that much of a threat.’‘ You smiled at him, which he happily returned. You helped him get up and led him back to your bedrolls, for tomorrow a long journey lay ahead of you. But, Frodo thought as he drifted off to sleep, as long as you were with him he’ll be alright. He’d just keep counting up the seconds until he got back home.

[writing-yj]

Mockingbird!Reader x Nightwing Harry Potter Headcannons

Anon: If you know Harry Potter, Mockingbird and Dick at Hogwarts?

A/n: Oh goodness, Harry Potter was my jam when I was growing up! And for these HCs, I went on the Wizarding World website (also called Pottermore?), and took the sorting hat quiz to find out what Mockingbird’s house would be for top accuracy. I based my answers off of Mockingbird’s personality! Enjoy!

Beware: This is really long, I got really into it.

Mockingbird met Dick Grayson when he first came to Hogwarts. 

Mockingbird was a year ahead of him, and a silver-tongued Slytherin at that. She made it clear that she wasn’t one to mess with not long after her first day there. If someone ever attempts to, Mockingbird’s sharp tongue embarrasses them. It went from just embarrassing them or ruining their reputations.

As soon as Dick walked in, he and Mockingbird locked eyes. He immediately captured her interest, and she obtained his in return.

Mockingbird’s best friend, Artemis Crock, noticed and teased her for staring at a boy. Since it was Artemis, Mockingbird didn’t mind the teasing; there was no one else she trusted more.

Dick kept glancing over at Mockingbird and made eye contact a few more times. 

Mockingbird crossed her fingers for him to be sorted into Slytherin, but to your dismay, he was sorted into Gryffindor. Gryffindor, of all houses.

“Damn, that’s unfortunate.” Artemis said afterwards.

You were very disappointed, but you didn’t show it. Instead, you shrugged and agreed with her.

Dick was bummed out as well, even more so when he learned that Slytherin and Gryffindor were sworn enemies. He didn’t want to hate you; he wanted to meet you and befriend you. 

Wally West, his eventual best friend, was convinced that you were going to hate Dick for being in Gryffindor, like Slytherins tend to do.

“Don’t worry about it, there are plenty more girls out there that aren’t Slytherins.” Wally said. “Just don’t have your hopes up on Mockingbird; I’ve never met a Slytherin that I didn’t hate.”

Dick occasionally saw Mockingbird in the halls between classes, sometimes in the courtyard. He yearned to go talk to you, but Wally’s advice echoed in his head any time he thought about approaching you. He was usually one of the bravest of the bunch, so Dick wasn’t sure why he couldn’t get himself to do it.

The first time he talked to Mockingbird wasn’t until his first Quidditch game. Professor McGonagal saw him as the perfect Seeker for Gryffindor, and she was right.

Dick was pleasantly surprised to see that Mockingbird was the opposing Seeker, although you were much more intimidating up close. Your eyebrows quirked when you saw him, but you otherwise had no visible reaction.

Despite being one of most talented Seekers Gryffindor had ever seen, you managed to catch the Golden Snitch... but just barely. She would never admit it, but he almost beat her to it.

It wasn’t too much of a surprise; Mockingbird’s late mother was the best Seeker in Slytherin’s Quidditch history.

Plenty of banter was thrown back and forth between the two of them every chance they got. It made the Quidditch game much more interesting.

Wally noticed how close Dick was to beating Mockingbird, and he didn’t hesitate to call Mockingbird out after the game. They didn’t get along very well, which was well known throughout the school.

“Get off your high-horse and admit that Dick almost got the Snitch before you!” Wally said in front of everyone.

Mockingbird rolled her eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, and you probably don’t know either; aren’t you the one who didn’t make Quidditch tryouts?”

Dick moved Wally out of the way before he could dig himself any deeper or do something he would regret. To Mockingbird’s surprise, instead of snapping at her, Dick said, “Congrats on catching the Snitch; it was a good game.”

It puzzled her at first, but she shook it off and scoffed lightly. “Can’t say I expected a Gryffindor to say something like that.”

“Yeah, I figured I’d try to see if it’s possible to to teach a Slytherin manners.”

From that moment on, Dick became Mockingbird’s biggest rival.

Dick’s sarcasm and quips and attitude drove Mockingbird insane, but she thought it was fun at the same time. Even when she returned it tenfold, Dick wouldn’t give up. It was like a game to him, and that both enraged her and entertained her.

Snippy comments to each other during class often earned them a scolding

It continued all throughout Dick’s first, second, and third year. By his second year, some subtle flirting was thrown into the mix, but nothing noticeable.

Dick’s fourth year is when things started to change. He started to pay even closer attention to Mockingbird, much more than he used to. For example, he was surprised that he had never noticed how beautiful Mockingbird’s eyes were.

It was the one secret that he would never spill to Wally; no one could deny that Mockingbird had very good looks, but if Dick even hinted at romantic feelings, Wally would surely faint.

One night, when Dick was sneaking around Hogwarts, he ran into Mockingbird and discovered that she was investigating the same thing. She reluctantly agreed to team up with him for the night.

When Mockingbird sneaked back to bed, she realized she felt a connection to Dick... and she didn’t appreciate that at all.

After running into each other a second time, and mutually enjoying it, it became a tradition to meet up somewhere alone, be it at night, at Hagrid’s, or some empty corner of the castle.

Hagrid managed to never mention it when Wally was around.

By the time Dick’s fifth year rolled around, they started dating in secret. Enemies around other students, lovers behind closed doors.

When Wally found out, it was revealed that he and Artemis were pretty much in the same boat.

Unfortunately, Mockingbird’s relationship with a Gryffindor couldn’t remain a secret forever. A lot of Slytherin students made fun of her for dating Dick, but she and Artemis wasted no time in putting them back in their place.

Dick didn’t mind their relationship being out in the open; it meant that he could go to Hogsmead with her and been seen with her, instead of constantly hiding it.

Dick was much more openly affectionate than Mockingbird. She usually didn’t know how to react, and was often only affectionate when they were alone. 

Of course, they never stopped being sarcastic and getting an attitude with each other. If someone didn’t know they were dating, they’d think Mockingbird and Dick still hated each other. 

Unlike most relationships that start at their age, they never broke up. Even after Mockingbird graduated a year before him, their relationship never weakened.

Later in life, after marrying and starting a family, Dick and Mockingbird both went back to Hogwarts as teachers up until retirement. Their legacies were a permanent part of Hogwarts’ history, never forgotten even after the end of their days.

[goldeneyedgirl]

TwiFicMas2020 Day 1: Anathema

It’s that time of year again - when I bombard you with fic I’ve written over the year and haven’t posted, whether it is an outtake, part of a WIP, or something that ended up going sideways but still had some cool bits I was proud of. 

Everything will be tracked under the ‘TwiFicMas2020′ and ‘FicMas2020′ tags. Most fics are incomplete scenes - “--” is a scene break, “//” means that there’s a cut - it’s probably not yet written. 

--

First up is Anathema, the fourth or fifth attempt at the ‘Alice works in a mortuary/funeral home’ idea that refuses to solidify itself - though I think I’m getting closer. I enjoy the idea that Charlie Swan is in on Forks’ secrets (before Jacob strips in front of him, lol) and I am always here for the supernatural world being more than just vampires and shifters. 

I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading!

The day the Cullens arrive in Forks, two things happen.

The first, I draw both Death, and the Wheel of Fortune. A combination that, frankly, sounds time-consuming. I lie in bed and contemplate them for awhile. The cards are soft, from lifetimes of passing from hand to hand (my dearest and most beloved Great-Aunt Jeanne passed this set to me when she died. At the time, I was too young to understand the true gift in cards that had never before been touched by Brandon hands - before mine.) The cards are illustrated so carefully, so detailed. They smell like dried lavender and the scrap of linen that I wrap them in, and there is something so reassuring about each and every card.

I draw my cards every few days before I get up. I find it calming, the shuffle of them against my fingers, as I let my dreams fade. It’s a quiet time, and one I savour.

Eventually, I do have to get up, though. No rest for the wicked. The cards go back into the wooden jewellery box some young man carved for some young woman in Jeanie’s family long before I was even a glimpse of a thought, and back into my nightstand drawer.

I - we - live on the first floor of the Brandon Funeral Home, a perfectly respectable converted Georgian house at the end of Main Street, where it sweeps around to Cedar Road. It’s a shit place to have a corner, and more than once speed racers have spun out; whoever’s scraped off the road and our front walk usually end up in the freezers in the basement.

But I digress.

Breakfast is mundane. Dulcie is there, hair in curlers, and a frown on her face when she realises I am not dressed. I sit crosslegged across two thrift-store chairs in my camisole and booty shorts, spooning jam onto toast with the precision of a good scientist and ignore her reminding me of my dressing gown (a sturdy pink-flower print flannel that is buried in my closet. My preferred robe, a thin grey kimono, is currently in my laundry pile) and ‘common decency’, as if my elderly great-uncle is looking to leer at the decided lack of anything I have up north or down south.

Dulcie is… Dulcie. No replacement for Aunt Jeanie, but a good woman. I find it funny that Uncle Freddie is an old man now, and he still reels ‘em in. Or he would if Jeanie’s death hadn’t broken, shattered, and wrecked him. Dulcie worked for us for a few years before she set her eyes on the top bedroom and changing ‘Dulcie Dunn-Stanley’ to ‘Dulcie Brandon’.

Oh, that sounds very jaded. It’s mutual, Freddie and Dulcie. Their courtship was glacial and it’s really only recently that Dulcie’s been hinting about heading to the court house. And, honestly, whatever makes Uncle Freddie happy. Dulcie’s kind to me, we mostly get along, and her attempts to mother me are so far inconsistent - but she is usually pretty respectful.

My uncle lingers over his food; he’s got a new book open at his elbow, and no one can pry my uncle away from his books. They’re usually hardcover, non-fiction. Most of the boxes stored in the third floor are my uncles books.

After breakfast, I am banished to get dressed for work, which is in the basement today, where I am to be the hands as we prepare one Lewis Fletcher for his Saturday morning funeral. There’s a sack of bagged organs resting in the chest cavity, from the autopsy (elk or deer attack, the report says), and I get to stitch Lewis back together, get to fill him full of chemicals, seal things with putty, and get to face painting. The Fletchers are a pretty ordinary family locally, and the service will be simple - they were very agreeable when Freddie met with them last week.

I put my music on and hum as I prepare my kit. It’s no secret that an unqualified teenage girl doing this work probably breaks a lot of laws, but Freddie’s hands aren’t as steady as they used to be, and he’s old enough to remember when a family business meant that the younger generation was trained by the older at home, no degrees or certifications necessary.

Sometimes I wonder what Jeanie would have thought, me working down here like this. Would she have understood? Would she have been mad or upset or disappointed?

We’ll never know.

Freddie fetches us both a cup of tea, and hovers at my shoulder as I piece together Mr Fletcher’s chest cavity.

“Smaller stitches, Alice,” Freddie says, inspecting my work carefully. “Redo that section, stitch closer together, and small stitches.”

I nod, turning around to grab a scalpel from the tray beside me to cut the wonky stitches free and start again, and I freeze as the ice-cold feeling envelopes me. No, no, no it’s been so long…

For a moment, I am unfixed in time and space. I am still in the basement, with the buzzing fluorescent lights, and smooth metal drawers and cupboards, the stink of formaldehyde. But instead of a clean, bare second table, I am lying there. But I’m not dead, and I’m not alone. It’s him. The boy - man? - I’ve been seeing for so long, in visions and dreams. He’s hovering above me, a veritable sculpture of pale flesh as he peels off his shirt, our mouths still fused together, my hands gripping his hips. I am a much less collected figure, with my tights around my knees, one shoe still on and my shirt hiked up over my bra. Vision-Me pulls away to say something, and He laughs, and it’s then the light catches his eyes. Dark gold.

Golden-eyes.

“Oh fuck,” Real-Me says, and somehow Vision-Him knows I’m Seeing and looks right at me, where I’m standing with a scalpel in my hand.

“Alice?” My uncle’s hand on my shoulders brings me right back to the right point in time and space.

It’s at the point I hit the floor, manage to stab myself quite viciously with the scalpel and my uncle starts cussing.

It’s been a while between visions.

//

The Council was basically the reason Freddie and I stayed in Forks. It was a fifty-fifty split between honouring Jeanie’s wishes, and keeping me safe and out of sight - as if my aspirations were towards a Vegas nightclub act or international pop star. I wasn’t entirely clueless.  

Forks was built in a special place. A place where the barriers between the ordinary and the extraordinary were a little thinner, where the supernatural were drawn to. Jeanie had theorised that was why the Quileute were able to tap into their spirit wolves so easily, and why the gene remained so strong, father to son without a constant presence of their enemies. I didn’t know enough of their history to have an opinion, but Forks was definitely a place with an interesting history that very few people knew - even I only knew a fraction of everything that happened, past and present. There were very few written accounts; most of the histories were oral and passed down on a strict need-to-know basis.

The Council were definitely in the know, and had been for generations. There was Billy Black, Sue and Harry Clearwater representing the Quileute tribe, there was Charlie Swan representing Forks and everyone not in the know, and there was Freddie and I. Freddie, was technically Jeanie’s representative, and was the Mediator between the Ordinary and the Others. Jeanie’s family had been Mediators for generations, but she’d never had children, so all of that had somehow fallen onto Freddie - and me.

It was extremely useful to have the Police Chief and a Mortician working the Council - we’d had to fudge more than a few deaths. There was always someone or something passing through the Olympic Peninsula, and we’d negotiated, challenged, threatened, and banished more than a few creatures over the last few years.

Technically, all parties were allowed to bring their apprentice representative, but I was the only one of the next generation who attended. Charlie Swan had made it clear he didn’t want his daughter involved in any of this, and both Billy and the Clearwaters had decided that their kids were too young to know exactly what went on around here. I figured in a decade or so, it would just be me, Seth, and Jacob Black (no way would Leah hang around just for this shit show), drinking beer in the woods and deciding whether to burn or bury.

But tonight’s meeting was Special. Despite the fact I’d been drawing nonsensical cards for days now - the Star, the Tower, and Justice - no visions had appeared beyond a dream about a locket with ‘W’ engraved on it. I’d expected a fairly normal meeting, until Freddie had let me in on the plan - we were, apparently, meeting with the Cullen family. No one had informed me exactly what or who the Cullens were, only that they had a ‘fourth seat’ in the Council that they’d been entitled to since the ‘30s. I’d have to go through Jeanie’s diaries again - there were boxes of them in storage, and Jeanie had useful tidbits dotted throughout.

So that was why I was in the forest with my grandfather, shivering underneath two coats and in my new fleecy boots, standing around a fire pit that didn’t really do much more than illuminate the burning wood; the lanterns we’d brought were more effective.

Some days I really wished Leah or Seth or Jacob Black would attend these meetings; they’d certainly liven up these meetings a bit.

“They’ll be here soon,” Billy Black said grimly. Billy Black had it worse than the rest of us - getting out to this part of the forest was awkward and time-consuming with his wheelchair. Since these meetings were clandestine, we couldn’t build a proper track.

“The terms are staying the same?” Charlie asked, sipping from a paper cup of coffee Sue had pressed on him.

Billy frowned. “We aren’t here to renegotiate, but we will listen to their petition if they have one,” he said finally.

“What are the existing terms?” I asked, nudging a mossy rock with my toe.

“We’ll go over that later on, Alice,” Freddie said, watching the woods carefully.

Fine, obstruct my completely transparent attempt at finding out what was actually going on. I was definitely intrigued by the idea this clan had a ‘seat’ at the Council, but it involve negotiations? The only creature I could think of that would fit that kind of profile would be some kind of shifter.

I was bored.

And then the mysterious Cullens arrived.

They came out of the woods like a mist; slowly but all at once. They kept a respectful distance away from the fire pit, clad in pristine new clothing that was a touch too light for the cold weather but was good quality. There were three of them - a blond man, a brunette woman, and a red-haired boy - all three of them taller than average, and pale as snow. And they were lovely, as if Grecian statues had climbed down from their plinth and wandered off.

“Hello,” the man said, nodding at us politely. “Thank you for welcoming us to this meeting.”

“You’ve a right to be here, as outlined in the treaty,” Billy Black said sternly. “This is the current Council - Charlie Swan for Forks. My self, Billy Black, and Harry and Sue Clearwater for the Quileute tribe. Fred Brandon as Mediator. Carlisle Cullen for the Cullen Coven.”

Coven meant vampires. That dampened my spirits a little; my history with vampires was messy. Plus the few vampires that had ventured into this area had been unpleasant experiences. But as I stared at the Cullen coven, I noticed their eyes.

Golden, like liquid light.

Was He one of them? Was the Cullen coven only these three, or where there more?

“And the young lady?” Carlisle Cullen said, looking in my direction.

“My niece,” Freddie said in a no-nonsense tone. “Shall we begin?”

“I assume Ursula Altis has since passed? My condolences to her family,” Carlisle Cullen said. “I had a great respect for Ursula.”

“Yes. Ursula’s apprentice passed on several years ago, and she named Fred and Alice as her successors,” Harry said.

“I am sorry for your loss,” Carlisle Cullen nodded at Freddie and I. I half-smiled back at him. Jeanie had been gone a long time but I still missed her.

“This is my wife, Esme, and my oldest son Edward,” Carlisle gestured to his two companions.

“Oldest son?” Charlie Swan said sharply.

“Yes - I have three others, but we did not want to overwhelm you,” Carlisle said. “They are here, if you would like to meet them?”

“Yes. We want to know the entirety of your coven,” Harry said bluntly.

Carlisle grimaced and nodded. “Of course. My other children - Rosalie, Emmett, and Jasper.”

Three more Cullens materialised from behind Carlisle Cullen - a tall blonde girl who was utterly breathtaking to look at, had a displeased expression, and was wearing the genuine designer version of my knock-off winter coat. The second was a bear of a man, with the friendliest face, and curly black hair, who winked at me as he wrapped an arm around the blonde girl’s shoulders.

And then a lanky blond boy with a dark expression and wavy blond hair, who hovered in the shadows, his features mostly obscured. All of them had the same golden eyes, the same pallor and dark under-eye circles. But they didn’t look or behave like other nomads that had passed through. They looked… like a nice family.

Maybe in a decade, Jacob, Seth, and I would be joined by Emmett Cullen for the ‘burn or bury’ booze up. He looked like he’d be the most up for livening up these meetings.

“Your family has grown.” Billy’s voice was accusing, and I turned to look at his stern expression.

“My son, Jasper, joined us in 1965,” Carlisle Cullen said politely, “Looking for a different lifestyle. We have abided by your terms, and would not have returned to this area if we were not prepared to continue to do so.”

The Quiluetes weren’t thrilled with that news, and Charlie just looked kind of tired. Freddie was taking notes on his phone, and I was just cold and getting bored again… until I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye.

Jasper was prowling away from the others, closer to me, where I stood at my uncle’s side. Both eyes were on me, like liquid amber, and I finally got a good look at him.

Jasper was Him - the boy hovering over me, half-dressed on the gurney; the boy kissing my scar, and sliding in behind me in the shower. The boy that had hovered at the edges of my visions and dreams since I was young, with adoration in his eyes and gentle touches.

The boy I’d love so fiercely and deeply…

Talk about a terrible time to finally meet.

“Oh fuck,” I said, as I looked at him, eyes wide. All those wretched cliches that terrible books write about happened at that moment. I was enchanted, besotted, and absolutely irrevocably attached to this Jasper Cullen. He was mine.

“Step back!” Harry barked out, but Jasper Cullen ignored him, watching me carefully. I couldn’t help myself; I smiled brightly at him, and he kept moving towards me. Flashes of knowledge were appearing in my head, and for some reasons I kept seeing the Lovers card, still in my deck at home. I could hear people talking, getting angry, but it was like the buzz of insects as Jasper Cullen got closer to me. His hand reached out slowly, to stroke the curve of my cheek, studying me with the strangest look on his face.

And then the pain hit, like someone had shoved an ice pick through my left eye and into my brain. The visions were folding over and over, like origami, before I could decipher them. Choices being made, minds changing, so fast I could keep up. I heard myself cry out as I fell, and then everything was dark.

Then I was seeing things in real time. The way I fell, blood running from my nose, to everyone’s utter horror. My eyes were rolled back in my head, and my body jerked in a seizure a few times before I was still.

But no one could get near me. As soon as I had fallen, Jasper had crouched over my prone form, with a horrified look on his face. Everyone was yelling and trying to get closer, and Jasper let out a snarl that was, frankly, terrifying before refocusing on me, taking my hand and plucking my glove off it, to rest against his own cheek. Whatever that was supposed to achieve did nothing, and whilst everyone else was yelling and bickering, he let out a low whine that was so pathetic, if I’d had any control over my body, I would have sat up and given him a hug.

Then Carlisle Cullen placed his hands up to the Council in a gesture of peace and nodded to Emmett before approaching Jasper.

The conversation would have been too low for anyone else to hear, but not me, in whatever kind of vision this was.

“Jasper, I understand,” Carlisle Cullen said in a low voice. “But she’s got a medical condition, you need to let her people take care of her.”

Jasper growled low, Emmett’s hand on his shoulder.

“Bro, c’mon,” he said. “You’re scaring them,” he nodded over his shoulder. Sue’s face was white with fear, and I was scared that Harry was going to stroke out on the spot.

And I was there, Sleeping Beauty, with a smear of fresh blood on my face.

“I can’t,” Jasper seemed to force out between gritted teeth. “She’s mine.” It was said with determination and desperation, and a deep tenderness.

I was pleased that whatever my embarrassing collapse had been, at least I knew we were on the same page -that we knew each other and we knew each other.

And just like that, like they were magic words, my eyes open and I was back in reality, staring up at the man-boy who was staring at me like I held the secrets to the universe.

“Alice, did he hurt you?” Freddie called out in a strained voice.

“No, that was me. Too much new information,” I said, as I began to sit up, Jasper sliding my glove back on my hand before I realised it was still missing. He held out his hand to help me up, his touch so careful and gentle.

“Okay, good. Come over here,” Freddie motioned for me to move to where the group seemed to have bunched across from the Cullens. Charlie Swan looked murderous. “She’s nothing to you, boy, just let her go.”

I winced when Freddie said that, realising immediately it was like a red flag to a bull, and all of a sudden there was a lot of motion. Jasper growled, attempting to shove me behind him - to protect me? - whilst Emmett and Carlisle Cullen decided it was time to get Jasper physically under control, and pulled him back towards where the rest of the family was standing.

I tripped over a rock and stumbled but righted myself as Jasper was bodily dragged back to where Esme, Rosalie, and Edward Cullen were waiting, looking worried.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Mrs Cullen asked as I moved back to Freddie’s side, where he quickly clasped me to him, giving me the once over.

“I’m fine,” I said before catching Emmett having bent Jasper’s arms behind  his back at a hideous angle, his knee digging into Jasper’s spine. “Oh, don’t hurt him! Please!” I made a move towards them but Sue grabbed my arm, and Jasper turned to stare at me with what I can only describe as hope.

“I think this meeting is done,” Charlie Swan said finally. “You agree to maintain the existing treaty - that’s all we need. Thank you for coming.”

“Of course, we don’t want to cause any issues,” Mrs Cullen said, and Freddie snorted, shielding me with his body.

I felt like a prisoner being frog-marched back to the car.

“Back at the Brandon’s?” Charlie said, as we arrived at the cars.

“Of course,” Freddie said. “Coffee and debrief.”

//

[bush-viper-cutie]

“Tea and Omens” || YEAR 3 – Ch.9 (HP au)

                              Chapter List

<-- Last Chapter                          Next Chapter -->

Day posted: 8/7/2020

Word count: 4,560

Relationship: EVENTUAL severus X oc (slow burn)

Rating: E for everyone

Warnings: none

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A/N: This is my first fan fic I’m writing mainly as a way to practice. This is a retelling of the hp books with an inserted character. Although most every character will be written about, this is mostly for the pro snape fandom. Please do not fear, although this is a severus x oc story, it is an incredibly slow burn as I do not intend for them to get together at all until after the final book events. Chapters will be posted twice a week.

This derivative work follows the events of the Harry Potter books by Jk Rowling and is intended as a fun way to practice my writing. Thank you for reading :D

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Heather woke with a start, realizing it was officially the first day of classes. She quickly ran to the bathrooms, took a bath, brushed out her hair for once, and brushed her teeth all before anyone she knew was actually up. She exited just in time for Pansy to wake up and walked out into the common book with her bag, successfully avoiding her entirely.

She was heading to the door when she spotted Marcus talking to two Slytherin boys she didn’t recognize. She spotted an open seat close to Marcus and sat down, taking out her new potions guide to pretend to look through.

“– Right. That shouldn’t be a problem. They’re usually the first to hold them. I doubt the Gryffindor captain will hold any this year since no one’s left, so I’ll see soon enough. Probably after the Hufflepuffs hold theirs.”

“Can’t wait.”

The three boys passed by and Heather’s mouth fell open. It was Graham Montague and Cassius Warrington who were talking to Marcus. She was pretty sure they were fifth years now, and they were huge. They must have been working out all summer long. She was puny compared to them and probably had better chances at becoming the next Seeker than being a Chaser again.

Draco walked out of the boys’ dormitories, so she quickly put her guide away and caught up to him just as he exited the door with his friends.

“Draco! I think Graham and Cassius are going to try out for chasers this year,” she walked beside him waiting for him to say anything, but he just shrugged. “What, you won’t help me?”

“Potter, just face it. You can’t beat any of them. You should be glad, actually. We’ll have better chances at winning this year,” he laughed and walked on with his friends.

“Fine. I don’t need your help.” She slung her bag over her shoulder and headed over to Gryffindor tower.

After a few minutes of waiting by the portrait hole, Hermione, Harry, and Ron came out and they walked down to the great hall for breakfast. There were less spots open but Heather managed to squeeze into the Gryffindor table like always.

“Oh man,” Ron put several muffins on his plate and started picking at all of them. “I hope our schedules aren’t awful this year.”

Heather giggled, “They weren’t bad last year. You and Harry just need to do your assignments not last minute.”

Hermione nodded and covered her mouth, “I agree. This year we’ll make sure you two – ”

“Hey, Potter!”

They turned towards the Slytherin table.

“Don’t forget a pillow in case you feint again!”

Draco laughed at his friend’s joke and pretended to feint onto Crabbe.

Pansy stood up. “Oooooo! Careful! The dementors are out to get you, Potter!”

Hermione knocked on the table, turning their attention back to her. “Ignore them. They aren’t funny.”

“I don’t know how you can stand to be a Slytherin,” Ron glared down at his half-eaten muffins.

“Slytherin isn’t the problem. It’s just stupid Pansy and Malfoy.”

Harry put his hands up, “We all know that. They’re trying to make us mad. We can’t let them make us mad.”

Hermione smiled, “Precisely. Oh! Here come our schedules!”

Professor McGonagall went by handing them out to her Gryffindors and walked back to the High Table. Professor Snape was much slower with his, and she had to stand up to go get hers. She cleared her throat behind him and caught the paper as he dropped it over his shoulder.

“Were the Weasleys out of flying cars this year?” Professor Snape looked over his shoulder at her, glaring.

She held her head up higher and mumbled a thank you before returning to her seat to unfold the schedule. She looked over her shoulder again and sighed, “I’m never going to beat Malfoy.”

Ron laughed, “You should just face the fact that no one can kiss Snape’s shoes better than Malfoy, and focus on other classes like Harry and me.”

“And what classes are you two focusing on?” Hermione laughed.

Harry unfolded his schedule, “Magical Creatures looks promising…”

Ron shook his head, “Fred and George tell me Divination is the class we’ll like. They said it’s the easiest class – ”

“Hogwarts classes aren’t EASY. I bet Divination is going to be challenging and very informative.”

They all ignored Hermione’s intense optimism for classes. Heather unfolded her own schedule and was very happy to find all their classes lined up. She bit her lip and reached for Hermione’s, looking at all the classes listed one after the other. “How many classes are you taking?”

She pulled it back before Heather could look too closely at it, “All of them. They all looked so interesting I couldn’t pick and…”

Ron snatched the schedule from her, “You’re sounding like Percy when he – hey! Some of these you can’t even go to – ”

Hermione pulled it away again and stuffed it in her bag. “Will you two stop worrying about my classes? I talked to Professor McGonagall and she approved all of these.”

Heather and Ron looked at each other but left Hermione alone the rest of breakfast. What did she care if Hermione’s schedule was all messed up? If anything, Hermione would be putting less time in herbology and potions which would mean less competition.

They had to venture into a part of the castle they hadn’t yet seen or been in before. They went through corridor after corridor trying to ask portraits for directions and it was a suit of armor that finally pointed them the right way.

They found the north tower stairs and started their climb all the way to the very top. It would have been much faster if there were only one set of spiral stairs, but there were at least four. One of them led half way up and then took them back down, the other one started on a different second floor corridor and led to a third one that only went to the other side of the very same tower. The fourth one had steps that retreated into the wall, so they had to quickly descend to the landing at the halfway point.

“Who built this castle!” Ron sat on the landing and huffed hot air out, trying to cool down.

“We should just ask for directions,” Harry pushed everyone back down the steps.

They stepped off at the third floor and looked for a painting. Heather spotted one and called everyone back. A tiny knight on a horse rode passed yelling and screaming half-intimidating things until he calmed down after getting flung of his horse.

“Err… how do we get to the top of the north tower?” Harry pointed up as if to let the knight know he knew the direction they should be heading was ‘up’.

The little knight rubbed his metal gloves together and nodded, “Indeed! Follow! Lost children, follow me!” He hopped back on his horse and ran to the left and disappeared.

They stood around until they realized they could follow the sound of clanking metal and bolted after what they assumed to be him. There were a few paintings where they could spot him momentarily, glad to see it was still him they were chasing. They ran across the corridor to the fourth floor and to a new set of spiral stairs in a much more contained and compact chamber that looked to lead all the way up.

“Our quest is now complete! Good day! And should you need Sir Cadogan…” he rode off, his voice trailing quietly behind him.

They took a break at the base of the stairs until more third years sounded around the corner and before they got stuck in a giant crowd on the tight stairs, they started the climb for the fifth time. They rested against the white painted stone walls of the landing and looked around as more students made it.

Heather looked over some heads and spotted Neville looking confused and disoriented. “Neville!” she waved at him, “Here!”

He made his way, looking relieved to find them. “I thought I was going to be late. My shoelace got stuck on a stair when it pulled in. You’d think there were six north towers…”

Ron pat his shoulder, still unable to say anything until his breathing regulated.

Harry looked at the time on his watch, “Class is soon but… where’s the door? Is it going to reveal itself when the clock chimes or – ”

A shabby brown door above their heads opened inwards and a shiny silver ladder fell onto the floor with a thud right behind Neville. He jumped back and looked up.

“Well go on…” Hermione pushed him up.

One by one they climbed and stepped into what looked like a circular attic with tiny windows all over the wall like picture frames, letting in odd colors of light. There were circular tea tables everywhere with two chairs per table and a circular base in the middle that reflected as clearly as any mirror. The windows all closed suddenly and lamps turned on, glowing dimly behind sheer red scarves.

They squinted and made their way into their seats next to one another. Ron and Harry in one, and Heather and Hermione in the other. Everyone waited for something else to happen but for a long minute nothing did, except mist seamed to be coming up from creaking floorboards.

“Class! Welcome!” a woman’s voice boomed loudly.

“Where is she?” Ron looked around and almost jumped out of his seat when one of the colored curtains moved and revealed their teacher.

She waved her arms as the curtains slid off her on her way to the center of the circular room. She adjusted her glasses and folded her hands in front of her, smiling widely at everyone. Her glasses were huge on her head and very think and round. She looked like an owl that had been dropped in expired glitter and vintage streamers.

“So, we physically meet,” she looked every student in the eyes. “Let’s sit and let our spirits converse!” Being the only one standing, she sat down on her small cushioned reading chair and drank some tea off her table. She moved her beady necklaces around to jungle and closed her eyes, breathing in some of the mist.

“Hmm,” Hermione tilted her head at the teacher.

“Hmm?” Heather wanted to ask what on earth that meant. Hermione was frowning and had her arms crossed in front of her.

“I am Professor Trelawney and I will be teaching you the very serious art of Divination.” She took out the divination textbook as if to talk about it but set it back down. “I must warn you all. Before we get into this class, you must know just how serious and difficult this art is. In fact, I would say the most difficult.” She pushed up her glasses again. “Some of you,” she looked at several students, “will have the necessary ability like me. Some of you… have the Sight. So, no matter how hard you study… many of you will not be able to venture into the field of divination ever.”

Ron and Harry looked up at them and raised their brows. Heather and Hermione stuck their tongues out and told them to turn around and pay attention. Heather couldn’t believe it was day one and she might already be doing worse than others just because she’s used to studying things hard. How could the textbook not be enough?

Professor Trelawney stood up and looked around. “Let’s allow for your physical beings to meet your partners for the class, although spiritually I’m sure we have all met. Go on.”

Heather turned around to Hermione. “Hello, this is my physical being talking.”

Hermione crossed her arms again, unamused. “What did she mean about the studying bit? Why would she make us buy a textbook that wouldn’t help?”

She shrugged, “Maybe it’s just required? Like for potions?”

“Oh my,” Professor Trelawney approached Neville. “Your grandmother is looking quite ill.”

Neville shrunk back in his seat, “She was fine yesterday…”

“I’d check on her.” She tapped her chin and pressed her lips staring at Neville. She turned her attention away, continuing with class. “This term we will be covering many things… Beginning with Tea leaf reading, which will likely be very difficult for many students – ” She turned to a Gryffindor girl near the front and bent down close to her table. “You should beware a red-haired man, dear.”

The Gryffindor girl turned to look at Ron with the rest of the class.

Ron’s ears went red. He frowned. “Technically my hair’s orange.”

Harry’s tried muffling his laugh, “But in certain lights…”

Ron gave him a mean look as Professor Trelawney took the center of the room again and everyone but the very concerned Gryffindor girl turned their attention back.

“The next term we will be looking at crystal balls. Palmistry will be a very interesting subject. And I hope to finish fire omens – they’re very, very insightful – but with the flu everyone will be dealing with in February who’s to say. Of course, I’ll lose my voice which will be another interruption and some time around Easter someone here will leave us forever.”

Heather looked around at everyone else who, too, were scanning the room for any hints of who that might be. She looked at Neville and he shook his head, but she wasn’t so sure. Last year Professor Snape said they’d be brewing more explosive potions this year and she doubted he’d have suddenly gotten less clumsy over the summer.

“Now, we should get ready. You dear,” she pointed at a different Gryffindor girl, “Please pass me that silver teapot just behind you.”

The girl looked relieved and stood to grab it, handing it carefully as if coming into contact might trigger a prediction. Unfortunately for her, it looked like Professor Trelawney already had a prediction ready for her.

“I see that you’re dreading something. Well I’m so very sorry to say but on Friday the sixteenth of October, it will happen.” She smiled and took the tea pot down to her table by the fireplace and cushioned chair, sitting and sliding her teacup nearer. “Now, there are teacups on that shelf so please everyone collect one and come down to the teapot to fill it.”

Heather stood up with Hermione and followed Harry and Ron up to the teacup shelf with everyone else.

“Can you believe anything she’s saying?” Ron whispered, looking back at Professor Trelawney who was staring down at her teacup, swirling her tea. “Now everyone’s going to hate me and my hair isn’t even actually red!”

Heather put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. “Very unfortunate prediction.”

“You looked at me when she said someone would leave forever,” Neville leaned into them.

Heather sighed, “Just be careful this year with your ingredient labeling, ok?”

The line was moving fast and they managed to all get their teacups, fill them from the floating teapot by Professor Trelawney, and return to their seats.

Harry leaned back and whispered to Heather, “What if it has to do with Black.”

“What?” Heather groaned and shook her head violently. “Harry don’t start now. If we stay in the castle how could we get hurt?”

He shrugged and turned back as Professor Trelawney as she stood and continued on about how to properly prepare the leaves. Heather drank until the leaves were lightly coated in tea and swirled it around three times with her left hand like she had instructed. Everyone placed their teacup upside down on the saucer and waited a few minutes for more liquid to drain down.

“Please switch with your table partner and interpret the patterns. Page five of the textbook will be helpful for this if you do not yet have the Sight. Oh and,” she turned to look at Neville again, “make sure to grab a blue teacup after you’ve broken that one. Thank you.”

Neville nodded and reached over to give his cup to his table partner but it slipped out of his hands and toppled to the floor, breaking into several sharp pieces. The class started laughing, and Heather did her best to hold it in for him out of support which Harry and Ron couldn’t manage to do even when Hermione give them very stern looks. Neville stood to get his second teacup and start all over.

Heather swapped cups with Hermione and laughed, “What if it tells me something really embarrassing? Should I pretend not to have noticed?”

Hermione rolled her eyes, “It won’t tell you anything. They’re just tea leaves.”

Heather opened ‘Unfogging the Future’ to page five and ran her finger down to look for any familiar clumpings. She stared at the tea leaves that were slowly gathering back at the center bottom from being tipped upside down and she wasn’t sure if she should wait for them to settle.

From her chair Professor Trelawney cried out, “Look past the ordinary of the world and into the extraordinary! Broaden your minds!”

Hermione huffed and frowned into Heather’s cup trying to search for something. Heather turned the cup around and spotted a clump that looked a bit like a blade of grass or maybe a curved stick or string. She looked for any type of swirly line resembling that and found at least five that could work.

“So… I think maybe you’ll fall down or something? Or something will fall around you… making you sad? And,” she looked for two clumped circles to the left of the cup, “and something about running.”

Hermione sighed and set the teacup down, “According to this you’re going to get swallowed up by something small.”

“Right. I’ll look out for that.” She glanced down at Harry and Ron who were doing a very poor job at stifling their laughs. “Will you two take it seriously?”

Ron covered his mouth with his arm and Harry half snorted and nodded, trying to look through the options again. Unfortunately for Harry, Professor Trelawney heard him and came up to see what all the fuss was.

“Let’s see your prediction, dear.”

Harry cleared his throat and looked down into the teacup. “This lump here means trials and suffering,” he checked the book, “and this one is happiness… so he’s going to suffer… but be happy about it.”

The class started laughing quietly and Professor Trelawney took Harry’s teacup from Ron. As she studied it everyone looked over intently. She moved her fingers over the mouth of it as if counting and muttered to herself.

“The great falcon, my dear. You have a deadly enemy.” She set the cup down and pressed her lips shut into a line.

“But everyone already knows that. Everyone knows about Harry and You-Know-Who.” Hermione sunk further into her chair under the eyes of the whole class and Professor Trelawney.

Heather stared at her wide-eyed. She couldn’t believe Hermione had just spoken out like that. And to a teacher, no less.

Professor Trelawney looked back down at Harry’s cup, ignoring Hermione’s outburst, and turned it clockwise. “I see here the club, meaning you’ll face an attack. And, oh dear, this is a very sad cup.” She leaned in closer and frowned. She turned it one more time and gasped very loud and sharp suddenly. She twisted it slightly and screamed, almost throwing the cup back down on the saucer. “Oh dear, dear boy… no… I shouldn’t say… It would be better that way.”

Harry took his cup and looked into it, shrugging at Ron.

One of Harry’s dorm mates, Dean, raised his hand but spoke anyways. “What is it?”

Several people were leaning over trying to look into Harry’s cup. He placed it back upside down on the saucer.

“What I saw… My dear, you’ve received the Grim.” Professor Trelawney shook her head sadly and picked the cup back up to examine it more.

Some people were looking around confused and others had clapped their hands to their mouths.

“What’s the Grim?” Harry looked up at Heather who shrugged.

“The Grim? Dear, it’s… It’s a giant spectral dog that haunts churchyards! It’s a very serious omen! It’s… the worst… It’s an omen of death!”

Heather closed her eyes and sighed. Of course Harry had to get a death omen. And of a scary dog like the one they’d seen. Now she was sure he’d be overthinking everything again. She turned to look at Hermione and saw she was gone from her chair. She looked back down and saw Hermione looking over Professor Trelawney’s shoulder.

Hermione shook her head. “It doesn’t look like the Grim at all.”

Professor Trelawney set the teacup down and crossed her arms, looking Hermione up and down. “Your aura… it’s very small and weak. That would explain why you are unable to be receptive around the art of divination. I would suggest meditation to increase your reception of the future.”

Dean was squinting into the teacup pulling it away and bringing it back, “No I see it. There, like this… but then again if you hold it out here it looks like a donkey…”

Heather stood up and took the cup from him to inspect it herself. She looked down and saw a clumpy mush of wet leaves. “I don’t see anything.”

Dean turned the cup around for Heather and pointed. “See those ears?”

“Are we done deciding if I’m gonna die or not?” Harry took back his teacup and hugged it tight so no one else could see inside it.

“I think we shall finish this class early today. Pack up and put the teacups in the back.” Professor Trelawney looked at Hermione one last time and walked back to her chair.

Everyone packed up and silently left the classroom.

Hermione still looked very upset as they were making their way down the spiral stairs. “It wasn’t the Grim. It was a mushy clump. She only said that because she’s heard of you and would have known about last year and the year before.”

“I agree.” Heather bumped Harry encouragingly.

He nodded but kept quiet the rest of the way down. They stood outside the transfiguration class in silence until more students gathered and Professor McGonagall let them in. Harry immediately sat down in the back and Hermione grumbled but didn’t say anything.

As class went on it was hard to pay attention to Professor McGonagall when Harry was looking so down. She took extra detailed notes for him since all he was doing was doodling in his notebook. Class was coming to an end and Professor McGonagall got to the last listed subject they would learn about.

Professor McGonagall circled the last word on the chalkboard and turned to the class, “Animagi. That is the name for wizards who can transform into animals, at will.”

Heather’s ears perked up. That definitely sounded cool.

Professor McGonagall continued, “The transformation process is very dangerous and any wizard who wishes to attempt it should have a healer standing by. Animagi are registered with the Ministry for safety. We shall touch more on this later in the year.”

Out of the corner of Heather’s eye she saw Harry drop his head on his desk. She looked around and saw several eyes looking over at him. Even sitting in the back he was getting lots of attention. She turned back to Professor McGonagall and just caught her mid-transformation from a cat back to herself.

“Really? Not that it matters but this is the first class no one has clapped…”

Hermione raised her hand. “We’ve just had our divination class and – ”

“Ah.” Professor McGonagall leaned on her desk and shook her head, fixing her hair. “And, may I ask, which one of you is it that’s supposed to be dying?”

After a minute Harry broke the silence, “I am.”

“Of course. Well let me inform you all… Professor Trelawney has predicted the death of a student every year. Not one of those predictions has ever come true. Seeing death omens is her way of greeting each new class. I don’t speak ill of colleagues… so I will leave it there.” Her nostrils flared as she sighed and shook her head. “There are some branches of magic that are incredibly imprecise. True Seers are very rare to find, and Professor Trelawney – Well.” She looked over at Harry, “You look in fine health, Mr. Potter. And I shall expect your homework in on time, however, if you die, I won’t take off points from Gryffindor for your late work.”

The class laughed and spirits were higher than they’ve been in the last two hours. Harry was back to talking as they made their way down to the great hall and Heather was sure Professor McGonagall had fixed whatever Professor Trelawney had done. They sat down for lunch together, but Ron was still looking unsure.

After they had all started eating, Ron turned to Harry. “And you’re sure you haven’t seen the Grim anywhere?”

Heather groaned.

“I have.” Harry set his fork down.

“What!” Ron stared at him.

“He has not! We saw a stray dog. And I didn’t even recognize it as a dog when I saw it.”

“There are lots of strays everywhere, Harry.”

Ron shook his head, “If he’s really seen a Grim then that’s very serious! My uncle died of one!”

Hermione laughed. “He died of seeing a Grim?”

“No he died after.”

“Look. Divination seems like its all guesswork and coincidences. It’s no different than with muggle fortune telling.”

“Sure. If you don’t have the Sight.” Ron stabbed his stew.

Hermione huffed, “You didn’t even see the Grim when you read his tea leaves! Divination is all nonsense.”

“You just don’t like things you’re bad at. Professor Trelawney said your aura was too weak for divinations.”

Heather and Harry stared at each other.

Hermione stood up from the table, “If being good means pretending to see nonsense in wet clumpy leaves then I’m not sure I want to study it any longer. My arithmancy class was way better!” She took her bag and walked away out of the great hall.

They all stared at her as she turned the corner out of sight.

Heather turned back. “Did she say she’d been to her arithmancy class?”

Ron frowned, “She can’t have been.”

They continued eating in silence. Heather went over Hermione’s schedule in her head. She couldn’t have been to arithmancy. That was at the same time as Divinations. The rest of the day studying and doing homework with Harry and Ron was very boring and quiet. Ron was upset, Harry was thinking to himself probably about that Grim, and Heather couldn’t figure out when Hermione would have had the time for her extra class.

By the end of the day Heather was extremely tired with all the worrying and thinking from the most eventful first day they’d had yet. She hadn’t seen Hermione since she left and wished she had asked more questions about her classes. With a groan she dropped to the floor after everyone in her dorm was asleep and did barely any exercises before crawling back into bed. She closed her eyes and hoped classes tomorrow would go smoother.

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[selfwriting-sugarquills]

Hey love! I absolutely love your writings and the Weasleys, so could you write a George x reader imagine where they're playing quidditch (did i spell that correctly) against Slytherin, and her playing like as a chaser and getting hit and falling and him reacting to it y'know? Sorry my english sucks :]

A/N: (ok I adore this request!!! I hope it’s good enough, these past two weeks have been really hectic and tiring, so I’m lying pretty low in terms of creativity :( but I have two weeks off for Christmas now so hopefully, I’ll have plenty of time to write all the amazing requests I’ve gotten!!) 

Warnings: None (implied broken bones?) 

Word count: 1.605

Fall

You were tightening the laces on Angelina’s sleeves when the twins stumbled into the changing room, 

“Sorry we're late,” said Fred, dumping his bag containing quidditch gear down on the benches next to Harry, 

“We ran into Filch on our way here and it turns out, he wasn’t a fan of our latest endeavours in the arts of surprise.”George’s face split into a grin as he pulled his shirt over his head and feeling suddenly flustered, you to avert your eyes. You had had a thing for George since your third year which you’d spent gawking at him and blushing deeply whenever he’d looked at you, then in your fourth year, you’d been paired up in charms, where he succeeded in a very literal sense. He’d asked you to help him practice on the quidditch pitch and you’d said yes, mostly because you wanted to spend time with him alone and you hoped that was his intention too though when Fred showed up on the pitch as well, you weren’t surprised, just a little disappointed. 

Now, you were in your fifth year, your crush still going strong, not that that would help you in the biggest match of the school year, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin. The weather seemed to be on your side, being on the clear, cool side with little wind but the tension between the two teams was at an all-time high, meaning you, one of the chasers, would probably be spending most of the match trying not to be murdered. 

“you know,” said Angelina, breaking your trail of thought, “there’s going to be this huge party after the match when we win,,” a smirk was playing on her lips, as she glanced towards the twins, who were sharing the tale of their latest prank with Harry and Katie, 

“and when we win, which we will,” she reassured quickly, mostly to herself, “I think it’s about time you tell a certain redhead how you feel,” her smirk grew as she watched your eyes widen, 

“shh!” you hushed, “he is right over there could you say it a little louder you think?!” 

“I can if it will make you two finally get together,” 

“Shut up!” 

“Alright team,” Wood said, gesturing to your small group of people as to bring you closer, “as I’m sure you’ve noticed, there’s a lot hanging on today's’ results and Slytherin wants a victory no matter the cost, so let’s try to stay alive, and Harry,” he turned to Harry who gulped, “I assume there’s no need for me to tell you just how much I need you to catch the snitch before that Malfoy kid does,” he said with such seriousness that even you felt a surge of adrenaline. 

Walking up to the entrance you were gripping your broom tightly, remaining quiet despite everyone else chatting quietly to each other, your eyes were fixated on the grass below as you listened to the cheers from the stands. An arm nudged you slightly, 

“you nervous?” George’s chocolate coloured eyes watched you with amusement, though you thought you could see a hint of nerves behind the confident sparkle, 

“A little,” you chuckled, 

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, the Slytherins are all a bunch of gits, we’ll have the snitch before they even realise the game’s begun,” he smiled and you looked back at the grass at your feet, 

“Alright team,” Wood said at the front, turning around, “‘s time.” 

** 

Normally, flying wasn’t scary to you, ever since you’d tried it for the first time you’d become somewhat enchanted by the surge in your stomach when you dipped and the dizzying satisfaction which came with learning a new manoeuvre. 

A bludger zoomed past you as you dipped, the surge in your stomach feeling more nauseating than exciting. The Slytherins were indeed ruthless but so were the Gryffindor team and it hadn’t taken long before the two teams had begun to pursue a more personal feud than anything. The foul playing had begun after Katie Bell had taken a bludger to the stomach, sent by one of the Slytherin chasers, who’d somehow gotten hold of one of the beaters’ bat, causing the game to be paused for several minutes. Then, the twins had retorted by sending two bludgers after the chaser who’d sent the bludger after Katie, both hitting him, the first sending him off-course by hitting his broom, smashing it to pieces, the second hitting his stomach, much like it had hit Katie, and sending him onto the ground with a thump which caused the audience to let out a collective groan. The beater’s downfall and injury caused another break. The team was getting restless, the twins pacing back and forth, most of you sat quietly, bouncing your legs and wringing your sweaty hands as you waited for Madam Hooch to call you back onto the pitch.  

When she finally did, the beaters from both teams were sending bludgers directly after each other, exchanging various swear words as they whacked the balls towards each other, completely neglecting the chasers and goalposts. You were flying in formation with Katie and Angelina, who was holding the quaffle, she sent the quaffle to Katie, who dropped it when a chaser from Slytherin collided with her, Angelina and yourself were quick, though, and without much need to communicate you dived down, where Angelina seized the quaffle easily from one of the younger Slytherins who was quick, but incredibly clumsy, passing the quaffle to you as the opposing chasers tried to surround her in order to take it from her. You headed straight from the goal, you could hear the twins cheer you on as the Slytherin beater yelled something from behind you, in a fear of being pursued, you chucked the quaffle towards the tallest ring with your eyes closed and without opening them you heard a bell go off and a roar from the stands. Sighing in relief, you opened your eyes,  

“L/n scores leaving Gryffindor in the lead with 30-10” Lee’s voice could be heard ringing out over the pitch over the cheers but you stopped listening to his remarks about Slytherin, as you focused instead on a small whistling noise, which seemed to grow closer and closer, when the realisation of what it was hit you it was already too late for you to react, something fast, hard and round hit your arm with a crack as you were knocked off of your broom. 

*** 

George had had little time to react. After you’d scored both he and Fred had been too occupied cheering for you to react when a Slytherin beater sent a bludger towards you with such speed that if George had blinked, he’d have missed you being knocked off of your broom, his heart racing as he saw the bludger collide with your side. 

Only seconds later he was on the ground along with the rest of the team, running towards you as fast as his legs could possibly carry him. Madam Hooch was already crouching beside you, inspecting you, you were sitting awkwardly, holding your arm and wincing as Hooch inspected it, 

“ow,” you hissed, a tear slipping down your face, George held himself back from sitting beside you and comforting you, instead, he heard himself say, 

“Is she going to be okay?” to Hooch, 

“Oh she’ll be just fine after a visit to the hospital wing,” Hooch said, helping you stand, 

“Can you still play?” asked Wood, Hooch let out a laugh, 

“With a broken arm? not a chance,” She said, “we’ll call the game off, congratulations, I believe you’ve won.” and with that, she marched off, an arm around your shoulders. George couldn’t look away as you went, his insides hurting when he heard you let out a choked sob, as McGonagall joined you and Hooch. His stare was broken by Fred hitting his arm gently, 

“Let’s go get changed,” he said, George nodded but turned to look after you once more before following. 

** 

You sniffed as madam Pomfrey finished wrapping up your arm, she placed a glass of skele-gro on the small bedside table, you sighed. 

“This is the worst,” you muttered as you grabbed the glass and downed it, grimacing as poured down the foul-tasting liquid, you opened your eyes when something hit the duvet resting on top of your legs. What you found were two boxes of chocolate frogs, 

“Figured you might need something to help with the taste of that stuff,” George smiled, you put the glass down, 

“Thank you,” you said, picking up a box, “and I’m sorry for getting hit,” 

“Don’t be sorry, it’s not your fault the Slytherin team is a bunch of gits,” he said as he sat down on the bedside, “I’m just glad you’re alright, you gave me a real scare there,” he said earnestly, his lips forming a grin. Blushing, you glanced down, suddenly unable to look him in the eye, you sat there in silence for a few seconds, painfully aware of how George’s eyes were resting on your face, in an attempt to bring the silence to an end, you grabbed the other chocolate frog, 

“Want one?” you asked, holding the frog out for him to take. 

And so that was how you spend your afternoon, eating chocolate frogs while George told you his worst (best) jokes in order to make you laugh, someday you figured you’d gather up the courage to tell him about your crush but for the moment, you were satisfied with George sitting across from you trying to catch a chocolate frog in his mouth and failing epically, much to your entertainment. 

[deathly-shipper]

Yes absolutely I want to hear about your Hogwarts au

why, my dear sirs, madams and variations thereupon, thank you for your interest!

(fair warning, this is going to be a long ass post because I have FEELINGS about this ship and this au okay??)

- Donna is muggleborn, but you'd be dead wrong if you think she's going to let anyone make fun of her because of that.

-When she was six her mother told her they weren't going on holiday that year, so off she went to the nearest bus stop and got on the Knight Bus. As if anyone involved in that mad acid trip of a bus would bat an eye to a child climbing on the bus alone, so they merely asked where she wanted to go and little Donna just went "Strathclyde!". Her family found her hours later with the help of the muggle police.

- Her first big show of accidental magic was when she was seven. The other kids at school were making fun of her hair, she got so mad that she turned all the other kids ginger too. Trust her to make others see the other side of things.

- So! Fast forwarding to when she's eleven, one ordinary morning Donna and her family are having breakfast, as you do, and someone knocks at the door. Lo and behold it's Professor McGonagall (seriously considered Snape, just because it would be so entertaining to see him explain the magic world to Donna's family, imagine Sylvia Noble talking to Snape.)

-She explains everything to the family; yes Donna is a witch, she has a place in Hogwarts, no Mrs Noble, tuition is free, etc etc.

- Sylvia is obviously the sceptic "magic isn't real!", Wilf may or may have not done a little dance of happiness, Geoffrey is a little too stunned to speak and Eileen (Donna's Nan) is the only sensible mind in this, bless her.

- The first thing that comes to Donna's mind when she is told she can go to Hogwarts is "So I won't have to go to school with Nerys anymore?" After being told that no, you won't have to, she's just a little bundle of joy, I mean, who wouldn't be when discovering you can do magic?

- Moving on, everything is explained, magic is real and a trip to Diagon Alley is scheduled for the next week!

- Now Ten! Ten is from a pureblood family, but currently the only members of said family are him and his older brother, Braxiatel. Their parents died in the first war against Voldemort.

- Ten spent the majority of his life inside the family's property, so he turned to books for his escape. He particularly likes astronomy, history and magical creatures.

- He hasn't got any friends, the only children his age he ever met are the other pureblood kids, and let's be honest, they aren't much like him, poor lad.

- He meets Donna in Diagon Alley when shopping for books, and when I say meet I mean he almost fell on top of her. She gives him hell for it of course, but they manage to get a conversation going about Hogwarts.

- They go their separate ways and both spend the rest of the summer holidays thinking about that weird kid they met on Diagon Alley.

- September the First arrives and they meet again at King's Cross. Donna's whole family has come to drop her off, of course, and Ten and Brax meet them at the platform.

- Brax explains to them how to get to platform nine and three quarters and goes first to demonstrate. Donna is scared, what if it doesn't work for her? Ten senses it and ask Mr Noble if he can take his trolley for him, so he can push Donna's with her. "Together?" "Together."

- They say goodbye to their families and get on the train, and, like Harry and Ron, manage to get a compartment all to themselves. Conversation goes on about all sorts of topics, the magic world, the muggle world, Hogwarts, the houses, what do they do for fun, you know, a bit of everything.

- They arrive at the station and have to get to school by the little boats, Ten does not like the idea. Donna holds his hand to reassure him. She likes this weird boy who talks about stars and creatures so fantastical she almost doesn't believe him.

- Sorting then. They're both nervous, it is all very intimidating after all, even if the idea of a talking hat is kind of funny to Donna.

-She goes first, sits there for about four minutes. After careful deliberations the hat places her on Hufflepuff. Yes, she could have been a Gryffindor, she is very brave, BUT, she's hard working and kind and compassionate, and I feel like her bravery stems more from her wish to help others you know? and more importantly, she's loyal. so, so much, and that's what seals the deal for me.

- Ten. Now Ten, like Donna, could've been a Gryffindor, but the hat decided on Ravenclaw. STILL, that's not where he went. No, my precious boi Ten argued with the hat. He looked at Donna and saw his only friend, the fiery girl who yelled at him when they met and later held his hand when he was afraid. "I want to go with her" he said to the hat, and so he went.

- Yes, they are both in Hufflepuff. No, I don't take criticism on this. This is my au and I make the rules, Hufflepuff is a great house and anybody who thinks otherwise can get the fuck out.

- Hogwarts is not ready for this duo.

- Regarding classes; Donna loves Charms, she's best in class, Flitwick loves her. Ten likes History of Magic, but Bins is terribly boring so he and Donna study on their own. They always pair up in Potions, not the best in class, but have yet to explode a cauldron. Transfiguration is Ten's area, his family is particularly gifted in this subject. Herbology is more Donna's scene, she used to help her nan with her garden so she likes working in the greenhouses. DADA is anyone's game really, with changing professors like that. Now, they both really like flying and they are good at it. Donna joins the house team as chaser in her third year.

- Ten is the second coming of Newt Scamander. He always drags Donna down to Hagrid's hut to see what creature he has most recently acquired. Has been given detention for wandering in the Forbidden Forest. He's also probably friends with the centaurs.

- A couple years pass, the friendship grows and life is good.

- Third year, Donna "I'm good with numbers" Noble tottaly takes Arithmancy and aces it, Ten too of course. They also take Care for Magical Creatures, to Ten's absolute delight, and Divination. But they take one class with Trelawney and decide to take Ancient Runes instead.

- On their fourth year Harry Potter comes to Hogwarts.

- Donna is one second away from screaming bloody murder at Dumbledore's blatant favouritism.

- Fifth year has all that business with the Chamber of Secrets, Ten and Donna are among the few that don't think Harry is the heir.

- But then Donna gets attacked too. Ten is inconsolable, he spends every moment he can with her in hospital wing. Fortunately she is saved by the mandragora potion with the others.

- Now, in sixth year things start getting Interesting. There's this boy who is interested in Donna and she kind of is too, but she's nervous because she hasn't had her first kiss yet. She tells Ten this. He also hasn't kissed anyone yet and he has one of his Ideas. He suggests to Donna that they can be each other's first kiss. That nearly earns him a slap, but he manages to convince her before she takes action. He says that they're best friends and what are best friends for if not helping each other? So she agrees and he goes all out to make it special for her. He takes her to the Astronomy Tower one night when the stars are out and they sit looking at the sky and hold hands. They see a falling star and he tells her to close her eyes and make a wish, he kisses her then. And that my friends, is when the Pinning starts.

- Sirius Black whom???? All they can think about is that kiss.

- Not that they let that ruin their friendship.

- Also, they love Hagrid teaching, he absolutely let them fly on Buckbeak. And Buckbeak is a strong boi, he took the both of them (cue Ten holding onto to Donna's waist and she going "Hands!" but secretly liking it)

- Seventh year, this is a good one folks. This year we continue with the Pinning, yes, but we also have the Triwizard Tournament!

- They tottaly go to the Quidditch World Cup, but manage to leave before the madness start.

- Meanwhile Harry Potter is dreaming about a slightly older version of Ten and freaking the fuck out.

- Back to Hogwarts and the Tournament. Donna speaks French so she makes friends with some of the Beauxbatons girls. Also, tottaly talks well of Hagrid to Madame Maxime.

- They both put their names on the goblet.

- "And the Hogwarts Champion is Donna Noble!"

- Yep, you read that right, my girl Donna is Hogwarts Champion instead of Cedric.

- The goblet inevitably spews out Harry's name and chaos ensues. BUT, we have something different this time, we have the brilliant Donna Noble. She asks if it really is binding if Harry didn't write his own name, and not his full name at that. And it is also against the rules for a fourth school to compete, and as someone had charm the goblet into allowing a fourth school competitor it is not really valid. The teachers are convinced and Harry doesn't participate. He is eternally grateful to Donna.

- The Weasleys are the first to know about the first task, and Ron tells Harry who in turn tells Donna. He takes her to see the dragons with the invisibility cloak.

- Donna asks Magical Creature Enthusiast Ten for help and they study the dragons they have seen.

- On the actual day Donna gets the Hungarian Horntail, but she uses a spell for it to understand her instead of tricking it. She manages to tell it one of it's eggs is false and convince the dragon to give it to her. Full points for spellwork and pacific solutions.

- Magical Creature Enthusiast Ten also immediately recognises the merpeople sound from the egg, so Donna is the first to figure out her clue.

- What she doesn't know is what it is that she has to recover, but she has a plan as to how. She uses gillyweed and practices the BubbleHead spell just in case.

- But first, Yule Ball. Our continued Pinning is going on full force, but Ten realizes that if he wants to go to the Ball with Donna he has to ask NOW.

- And so he does, with more blood on his face than anywhere else. Donna is a confused but secretly hopeful. "You want to go as friends?" "No Donna, I want you to be my date." "Oh" "If you don't want to that's fine-" "I would love to" cue more blushing.

- Donna is a vision on her Ball dress, Ten is so in love.

- So they dance and laugh and generally have fun. Then Ten takes her to the Astronomy Tower again, and they kiss under the starry sky.

- Back to the tasks then.

- Of course it is Ten waiting to be rescued at the bottom of the lake.

- Donna is the first to get there, but, like Harry, she helps the others too. Still first place though, my girl is efficient like that.

- Ten and Donna cuddle for warmth after getting out of the lake, of course.

- Third Task, the maze. Donna ends up saving Fleur and having to fight Krum. She almost doesn't make it to the cup.

- Moody had to change plans and kidnap Harry since he wouldn't be competing in the Tournament. So Harry is in the graveyard, Voldemort returns, yada yada.

- But they didn't account for Donna getting there too. She arrives during the fight and saves Harry.

- So Donna is Triwizard Champion!

- and Voldemort is back, which is a bummer.

- Ten and Donna graduate and start travelling the world with a blue suitcase that is bigger on the inside and that's all I have for now, thank you for reading!

[alindakb]

Love me Forever - by Alinda

A little warning, in this little alternative HP universe there will be no happy ending. I hope you still enjoy this short story set in a word where Voldemort never excised. 

~~~~~~~~

His body is cold. His skin paler then Draco’s has ever been. It has been hours and he still hasn’t moved. Draco doesn’t understand. He did everything the same, just like he remembered. Only it looks like it didn’t work. It looks like he’s dead and won’t come back to spend the rest of eternity with Draco. Draco blinks with his eyes. If he could he would cry, but it has been years since he shed his last tear. Since he took his last breath and walked in the sunlight. Draco has lost count of the decades he’s wandered the halls of Hogwarts, of the times he sat through seventh year, fooling everyone around him. He never minded living forever. Until now.

-x-x-x-x-

When Harry was eleven and went to Hogwarts for the first time his uncle Sirius told him about the legend. Harry had thought it was silly. How could a boy repeat seventh year over and over again without anyone noticing? By the time he started third year it made more sense. Hogwarts was a weird place where strange things happened. And during the TriWizard tournament of fourth year, he learnt that students could die when not careful. And how quickly everyone around him forgot about poor Cedric who had used potions to try to win, only to be found dead in the maze after Viktor Krum had secured the victory. And now that he’s started seventh year he wonders who it could be, the student that has turned into a vampire and secretly feeds on seventh years without anyone noticing. He’s sure all his dorm mates have always been there. His best friend Ron, the combustible Seamus, creative Dean and the little awkward Nevile. He has memories off all of them through the years.

“You do know that vampires can imprint themselves in your memories. It could be any of us and we wouldn’t know”, Ron says.

“Yes, but we’ve been best friends since childhood. I would think my parents would say something if I would suddenly have a new best friend that I claim I’ve known since I was in diapers,” Harry counters back.

“Harry has a point. And Ron, you have too many brothers to be the vampire. It’s got to be someone without any siblings.” Seamus sits down next to Dean and rests his chin on his shoulder. “Maybe it’s my boyfriend, he’s a single child.”

“Yes, and the first thing I did was make you believe you’ve been sleeping with me for the last two years, so I could have sex whenever I want to,” Dean jokes.

“If it’s one of us, it will be Neville,” Ron says. “He’s the one that doesn’t have that many friends, that likes to spend time alone in the greenhouses. And he’s a single child without any parents.”

Harry shakes his head. “The greenhouses are too light. And how would he get there during the day? No, we need to figure out which student never makes it to Herbology to find out who the vampire is.”

“You’re forgetting that not every seventh year takes Herbology. You and Dean both have different subjects. We need to find out which students only have subjects that aren’t outside. So every student taking Care of Magical Creatures or Herbology is out.” Dean says.

“Well, that means he isn’t a Gryffindor,” Ron says. “We all either take Herbology or Magical Creatures.”

“All of the Hufflepuff seventh years have Herbology too,” Seamus pipes in.

“It’s probably a Slytherin, nicely tucked away in the dungeons, like a real vampire,” Harry concludes.

And from that moment Harry starts to pay attention to the Slytherin boys during their shared potions lessons. It doesn’t help his potion-making skills, making it so that Hermione keeps giving him disappointed looks and that Professor Snape’s mood only seems to improve. Half of the Slytherin boys are an only child. Zabini only has a mother that seems to marry a different man every couple of years, and they always end up dead in the end. Harry has asked his father about it, but the Aurors are sure all the men have died from natural causes or accidents. James says there is no way a vampire could fool the entire Ministry, and the legend is clear about that the student parents were never turned. There is Nott, who has always bugged Harry with his shitty attitude. But that is not a reason why he could be the vampire. And he takes Herbology, so that takes to suspicion off him. Crabbe and Goyle don’t have the brains to be vampires and too many siblings in school to be considered. Harry still doesn’t understand how they may have passed any O.W.L.’s in fifth year. The only one left is Malfoy, the rich boy with the mansion in Wilshire.

Malfoy with his platinum blond hair and fair skin. The boy who says he likes Quidditch but hasn’t been to a single match this year. The one person at the Slytherin table who doesn’t receive any mail in the morning.

Harry makes it his mission to get to know Malfoy better. He asks him for help with his potion homework one day when they are both in the library. It is the start of sweet smiles and trips to the library to do their homework together. Ron calls Harry a traitor for falling for a Slytherin. Both Harry knows it’s just banter and that Ron doesn’t mean anything by it. Harry has forgotten all about the crazy vampire legend. One day Draco leans in close and places his soft cold lips on Harry. Harry’s heart skips a beat and he can’t stop smiling for days. They join each other for breakfast or dinner, breaking the hostilities between their houses. Nott ignores them all, but Hermione finds a friend in Pansy and Dean and Blaise share painting techniques like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Nobody complains when Draco doesn’t want to go to Hogsmeade but prefers to spend the day in with Harry. They kiss and wander around the castle. In the evening they stroll around the lake and Harry’s heart burst again when Draco tells him he loves him.

“Promise me we’ll still be together after graduation,” Harry whispers in Draco’s ear as his hands roam over Draco’s sides.

Draco rests the back of his head against the tree and looks up at the cloudy sky. “Tomorrow is a new moon,” he says.

Harry looks up at the sky and shakes his head. “Who cares about the new moon. Just tell me this is more than a high school fling and that you’ll come with me to London.”

Two pale grey eyes stare intensely at Harry. “I’ll love you forever, Harry,” Draco says. “You were never a fling to me, you’re everything.”

Their lips meet and Harry forgets all about London. That night he dreams of Draco’s hand on his, of the promise to spend the next night together on the astronomy tower. The night will be special. Draco promised. Something about the new moon and how much brighter the stars will be. What Harry didn’t expect is to find a blanket surrounded by flying candles. Pillows soft and comfortable to sit upon, a picnic basket filled with fruits and snacks. Draco holds his hand and caresses his neck.

“You are the most beautiful boy I’ve ever seen,” he says. Harry smiles at him and takes another grape. He takes another sip of the wine. It tastes a little funny and Harry knows he’s getting tipsy, but he doesn’t care. The stars are out and Draco looks at him like he’s an angel or something. They kiss and slowly their clothes get removed from their bodies. Draco’s pale limbs intertwine with Harry’s darker skin and Harry forgets all about the stars and the wine. Draco’s fingers open him up slowly and then the moment is there. For the first time in his life, Harry becomes one with another person and he can’t believe how perfect it all feels.

“Stay with me forever,” Draco says.

“Yeah, fuck yes, Draco. Forever,” Harry answers. Their hands intertwine on Harry’s chest, and Harry turns his head to the back so he can kiss Draco. Something sharp hits his lips and Harry can taste his own blood on his lips. Draco doesn’t seem to mind as his trust intensify and the kiss deepens. He takes Harry in his hand and strokes him in tandem with his trusts. A perfect pleasure fills Harry and he comes hard.

Draco’s lips slide from Harry’s mouth to his neck. Teeth scrape over the skin as Draco pushes Harry’s stomach to the floor. Harry feels a sharp pain when the teeth break his skin and warm blood trickles down Harry’s throat. Draco keeps pushing inside Harry while his lips cover the wounds on his neck. The legend of the vampire student comes back to Harry mind and he can’t believe he never connected the dots. Draco never wants to go outside when the weather is nice. He’s touch is always cold and he hardly eats any food. Nobody knows his parents and even Harry’s father mentioned that he thought the Malfoy name had died out years ago. Even though they did had a Malfoy in their class, a good looking blond according to Sirius.

Harry feels Draco come inside him and for a second he hopes that Draco would also release his neck and make him forget about the blood. Only Draco grabs Harry’s head and sucks more desperate. Harry his head starts to hurt and he feels dizzy. He tries to lift his body with his hands to turn around and make Draco stop, only Draco is stronger and keeps Harry in place.

“Please, Draco, I don’t want to die.”

Draco lifts his lips and kisses Harry’s skin. “We’ll be together forever,” he whispers. “It won’t hurt, I promise. And I’ll be here when you wake up.” He puts his mouth over the wounds again and drinks more of Harry’s blood.

Tears fall from Harry’s eyes. He can’t stop Draco. Minutes pass and Harry’s breathing becomes shallow. He’s cold and the pain in his head is intensifying. One of Draco’s hand twist in Harry’s hair and the other holds one of Harry’s hands on the floor. Harry looks at his arm. Pinned down by Draco. Harry’s skin looks pale and his fingernails are blue. His rapid heartbeat is slowing and Harry can’t remember how he’d got to the astronomy tower.

“I’m sorry, mom,” he whispers. It’s getting hard to keep his eyes open. So he closes them and lets the darkness take him.

-x-x-x-x-

Draco drinks every last drop of blood from Harry’s body. His love had died a couple of minutes ago. His blood has been the best Draco ever tasted. He turns Harry’s body around and lays him carefully on the pillows. He rests his head on Harry’s chest and waits for him to wake. He’ll be back with Draco before the sun will rise tonight. Draco also woke up just before sunrise, in the arms of his lover after losing his virginity on a new moon. Draco had spiked Harry’s wine with his own blood to make sure he would turn. Hours pass and nothing happens. Harry’s body stays still and unresponsive. The sun starts to rise in the distant. Draco knows he should move, that he should put his clothes back on and make his way inside. He knows it didn’t work, that Harry won’t come back to him. He closes his eyes and lays back down on Harry’s chest.

“I’m sorry,” he says as the sun starts to burn his skin and takes his life away.

[etymolo-drarry-ig]

Clueless

Draco has been dropping hints. Harry has yet to pick up on any of them.

---Harry’s POV---

In hindsight, the first hint was probably from the end of my third year.

"I have to tell you something," Draco had waved me over after the end-of-year feast. "But not here."

So we walked across the school grounds together, for the last time that school year. "I've been doing some thinking," Draco fidgeted with the cuffs of his shirt. "And I'll understand if you don't want to be friends anymore—"

"Draco, just tell me," I interrupted him, and he took a deep breath.

"I'm gay," he said finally.

"Oh," I replied. I wasn't sure what the correct response was—my only experience thus far was from Seamus and Dean, but even I knew they fancied each other, and I'm oblivious. Neither of them were very subtle, after all.

Draco turned to me. "Do you—do you hate me?"

Now I was confused. "I don't hate Dean or Seamus, do I?" I pointed out. "I mean, sure, seeing them make out every single night does get kind of annoying," I laughed. "No, of course I don't hate you. You're still my best friend.”

Draco smiled gratefully, facing forward again. "I haven't told anyone else," he clenched his jaw.

Draco nodded tightly.

"I'm the first one you've told?" A warmth filled my chest. People didn't usually trust me with their secrets.

"How do—how do wizards feel about—er, gay people?" The words left my mouth rather clumsily.

"It depends, I guess," Draco shrugged, "we mostly don't care, but same-sex marriage is still illegal. I know that father expects me to produce an heir, regardless. I don't think mum will care."

I wrinkled my nose at the word produce, and Draco laughed.

"I think I'll tell mum this summer," he continued, "we're pretty good at keeping secrets from father," he smiled.

"I'm glad you told me," I responded, "thank you for trusting me."

---

The second hint came about halfway through fourth year. Draco had only come out to a few people: his mum, Pansy Parkinson, and me. My perception of gay people was totally flipped on its head when Draco came out—before, I assumed every gay person was just as flamboyant as Dean and Seamus, but Draco was definitely not flamboyant. He'd made me realize that gay people come in all shapes and sizes, too.

Therefore, I wasn't completely bewildered when I started noticing people in a brand new way. I knew something was up when Cedric Diggory and Cho Chang came strolling down the hallway, hand and hand, and I couldn't even tell which of them I was more jealous of.

"I have something to tell you," I approached Draco during lunch, and he scooted over to make room for me at the Slytherin table. None of his housemates batted an eye—I usually sat with Draco a few times a week, although it was usually for study purposes.

He raised an eyebrow when I subtly cast a muffling charm. "Remember what you told me about at the end of last year?" I asked, "the thing you had never told anyone else before?" I added, to make sure Draco understood.

He nodded cautiously. "What are you getting at?"

I swallowed. "Me too, I think. Well, kind of. I mean, I like girls, but—well, I'm like you, too."

"Really?" Draco seemed to perk up a little bit. "So you're bi? Or pan?"

I nodded. "I guess so."

“Well,” he cleared his throat and sat up straight. "In that case, would you—um," his face flushed.

I tilted my head to the side, wondering why he was so flustered.

"Well, since we're both, you know," Draco continued, "maybe you would want to experiment?"

"Oh," I blinked. I hadn't really thought of actually being with anyone. Okay, I may have considered what dating Cho or Cedric would be like—but I hadn't taken it seriously . "I—I don't know," I admitted, "I don't know if I'm—what's the word?" I scratched my head, trying to remember the phrase Hermione had used. "Emotionally stable, I think? I don't think I could with anyone right now."

It was the truth, after all. Even if Cho or Cedric approached me, I don't think I'd be ready to be in a relationship.

"Oh," Draco returned to his mashed potatoes. "I just thought I'd ask. Hey," he nudged me with his elbow. "Now we can check out guys together, huh?"

I laughed and lowered my voice. "Have you seen Cedric Diggory? Merlin."

Draco laughed. "I'm more of a Victor Krum kind of guy, myself."

I chuckled. "Too bad for you, he's completely smitten with Hermione."

---

The next hint came at the end of fourth year. It was the last week before term ended, and for the first time in my life, I was excited for the summer. For the first time, I wasn't returning to the Dursley’s over the summer.

You see, fourth year had been kind of crazy for me. Aside from the Triwizard Tournament, (which Cedric won, of course, because he's amazing) I found out that I had a godfather—the reason no one bothered to tell me was because he was in prison.

Now that I was fourteen, I was allowed full access to my parents' Gringotts vault. I'd always thought there was something fishy about my parents' death—not the Voldemort part, but the fact that the only thing left of Peter Pettigrew was a finger. I mean, come on , there was a fully intact finger, but no bone fragments from the rest of the body?

So with the help of Ron, Hermione, and Draco, we tracked down my parents' will and discovered that not only had they changed Secret Keepers, but Peter Pettigrew was an unregistered animagus. A rat animagus.

And Ron's pet rat was missing a finger.

All it took was a quick trip to McGonagall's classroom to force Scabbers into his human form, and then… well, I didn't get very involved in the politics, but long story short, Sirius Black was a free man.

And I would be staying with him this summer.

Even better, in my opinion, was that Remus Lupin, another friend of my parents, would be staying with us, too. He and Sirius had started dating during school, apparently, and even thirteen years of Azkaban wasn't enough to drive them apart.

I was finally going to live with my family.

The Sunday before the end of term, Draco appeared at the Gryffindor table during breakfast. " Potter," he tapped me on the shoulder impatiently, and I turned to look at him. "Have you seen the Prophet?" He asked.

I shook my head. I never read the Prophet anymore—I had gotten tired of reading the rumors about me and my friends.

Draco shoved aside my plate to make room for his. "Well, you should read it."

I looked over to Hermione, who helpfully handed over her copy without a word. "Where should I be looking?" I asked.

"Page two, column three," Draco answered.

"Holy shit," I gasped, reading the headline. "’Same-sex marriage legalized in Wizarding Britain.' Hermione, Ron, look at this," I grinned.

I still remember the date. June 26th, 1991.

Even though most of them were straight, we were still crying by the end of breakfast. Seamus and Dean vanished for a celebratory makeout session, and Draco pulled me aside when I was done eating.

"This is fantastic," I told him, "Sirius and Remus can get married now, if they want."

"It's brilliant," Draco agreed. "Listen, since today's a special day and all, I thought I'd ask—" he paused, fidgeting with one of his rings.

I raised an eyebrow. "Ask me what?"

"Um, well, would you want to maybe be my boyfriend?"

My eyes widened. "Oh, I, um—" I stuttered. It didn't seem like a serious inquiry—he was only asking because of the legalization, right? "I don't—I don't  think I can handle that sort of thing right now," I confessed.

"Okay," Draco said easily, "you have a lot going on, after all. I just figured I'd ask." Then he left, leaving me alone and confused.

It was just a friendly question, right? Obviously he didn't actually like me—it was just a thing of convenience. He likes guys, I like guys, we're friends, so it was convenient.

Maybe if I'd felt more comfortable with the idea of dating someone, I would've said yes. He was my best friend, after all, and a great person. And he was quite attractive—not that I'd ever tell him that.

I sighed, putting the situation out of my mind for the time being. I wanted to write a letter to Sirius and Remus, after all.

---

Every year on Valentine’s Day, the professors collect valentines and distribute them to their intended recipients—thankfully, after the Lockhart incident in second year, the valentines no longer sang. Originally, valentines were sent like normal mail, but the horrifying number of valentines sent to me during first year had created an owl-jam, so the professors had to come up with an alternative.

For reasons you can probably guess, I'm not a fan of Valentine’s Day. I still read all the messages, though, but that's mostly because Fred and George always make sure to send me dozens of valentines, each one being more elaborate than the last.

During my fifth year, there was something a little different—one of the notes wasn't signed with a name. The valentines I got were never anonymous, so to have one signed "your secret admirer" was odd.

Dear Harry,

I apologize for adding to the torrent of messages sent to you this year, but I have something to get off my chest. I don't think you'll ever consider me as more than a friend, but I have a huge crush on you. Happy Valentine's Day.

-Your secret admirer

Something was bothering me about the handwriting, too. It looked oddly familiar.

"You okay, Harry?" Hermione watched me frown at the note in my hand.

"Yeah," I said, "I just don't know who this is from," I handed her the slip of parchment, and she shrugged.

"It says that you're friends, right?" She tilted her head. "Maybe that's a hint."

After breakfast was over, and I had vanished most of the valentines, I brought the note over to Draco. "Do you recognize this handwriting?" I asked, "I don't know who sent it."

"Probably because they didn't put their name," Draco said sarcastically, staring at the note in my hand. "Do you—do you recognize the handwriting?"

I studied the curvy script. "It could maybe be a girl's handwriting," I suggested

"It's not that feminine," Draco replied, "besides, you wouldn't know decent handwriting if it slapped you in the face."

"Oh, shut up."

---

Two weeks later, I still hadn't figured out who'd sent me the note. "Maybe you should see if the handwriting matches one of your friends," Draco suggested.

Hermione nodded. "Maybe you can check old notes you've passed in class."

"Merlin, are we still talking about this?" Ron rolled his eyes, "rook to D-8," he added, and the chess board adjusted accordingly.

"I think it's cute," Hermione mused, "you're invested."

"I'm not cute, 'Mione," I grumbled.

"Oh, but your secret admirer begs to differ," Draco teased.

"Bugger off, Malfoy," I grumbled, but I was grinning.

---

Draco sat against the tree trunk, the sunlight causing his hair to glow. "Have you still not figured it out?" For some reason, Draco was exasperated. "You compared handwritings and everything?"

I nodded. "I did everything you guys suggested." I laid back on the ground. I honestly didn't care who it was at this point, because the sender definitely wasn't who I hoped it was.

Yeah, that's right. Draco had asked me out last year, and it seemed to have gone to my head, because now I fancied him. Which sucked, because there was no way he liked me back—we were just friends.

"You're an idiot, Harry."

"Tell me something I don't know," I responded, avoiding his gaze. I was not going to blush, I wasn't, I—

"Look at me, Harry."

I blushed.

"Do you want to know who it is?" Draco raised his eyebrows, and I nodded quickly. "It's me."

"I—" what? "You? But that means—you have a crush on me? Wait, but— really?"

Draco waited for me to finish spluttering. "I've fancied you since third year," he deadpanned.

I sat up quickly. "Oh," I said. Think fast. "Er—then," I scratched the back of my neck, "do you want to watch the quidditch match with me this weekend?"

He frowned. "We're already going to watch toget— oh, you mean as a date?" I nodded quickly, and he rolled his eyes. "You know, if the roles were reversed," he gestured between us, "you would not have picked up on that."

I buried my face into my hands. "Oh, shut up."

---

The quidditch match was Ravenclaw versus Hufflepuff, which meant my loyalty was divided on account of the two seekers, Cho and Cedric.

"Who do you think will catch the snitch?" I asked Draco.

"Cedric, definitely," he scoffed, "he has the better broom."

"Cho makes sharper turns, though," I pointed out.

"Technique can only get you so far."

I narrowed my eyes. "Is that a challenge?"

Draco tilted his head. "Perhaps."

I huffed. "Fine. Seeker's game later?"

"You're on."

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Ron and Hermione waving frantically to Draco from a few rows away. When I turned, though, they abruptly stopped. "What was that?" I asked him.

"Nothing," he said quickly, "I don't know."

I eyed him. "It's nothing, or you don't know?"

"I don't know," he repeated.

I sighed and turned back to the game, but Ron started waving again. "What are you doing?" I called to him, but he only shrugged, as if to say I don't know what you're talking about.

"Seriously, what's going on?" I asked Draco, who laughed at me.

"Why, what are you thinking?"

"I don't know, because you won't tell me, " I sighed in exasperation and turned back to the game, just in time for Cho to spot the snitch

She dove for it, and Cedric followed close behind. The snitch made a sharp turn, though, and Cedric wasn't able to change direction fast enough. "Told you," I elbowed Draco, who nudged me back.

"Told you," he replied as Cedric quickly gained on Cho until they were neck-and-neck. I grabbed his hand in anticipation as they got closer… and closer… and Cedric reached forward and snatched the snitch out of the air.

"YES!" we jumped from our seats, cheering loudly. Hufflepuff won, 220 to 80 points.

"I told you," Draco gloated, and I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," I couldn't stop grinning, but it didn't have to do with who caught the snitch. My stomach fluttered—I was holding his hand.

The pitch emptied quickly, with Ron and Hermione helpfully leaving us behind. We grabbed our brooms and headed for the center of the field, not bothering to change into quidditch robes.

"Er, listen, Harry—" Draco said before I could release the snitch.

"Yeah?"

He rubbed the back of his neck. "I just wanted to say sorry, for, um—"

I furrowed my brow. "For what?"

"I dunno, for being too forward?" His eyes darted around the pitch.

"What? You didn't even do anything—" unfortunately.

"I feel like I did, though," he ran his fingers through his hair, and my heart fluttered. "What?" He watched me bite my lip.

"I—I have butterflies," I answered shyly.

"Well, you shouldn't have eaten so many butterflies, then," he replied cheekily, and I shoved his shoulder, laughing. "Why do you have butterflies?"

My face reddened. "Because I—because I fancy you," I answered, and his eyes widened.

"You do? But I thought—"

"I mean, you asked me out in June, and I know you meant it as a friend thing," I said, "but I guess it went to my head, because now—"

"Hold on," Draco interrupted me, "who in their right mind asks someone out as a friend?"

I paused. "You?"

He bit his lip. "You really are an idiot," he said softly.

I was silent for a moment, staring at his lips. "Can I—um," I heard myself say, "can I kiss you?"

Draco didn't answer; instead, he pulled me towards him, swiftly planting a kiss on my lips.

My brain seemed to short circuit, but at some point, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, standing on my tip-toes to easily reach him. We stayed like that for Merlin-knows-how-long, standing in the middle of the quidditch pitch with our arms wrapped around each other.

We never did play that seeker's game.

(wattpad) (ao3)

[rosetisco]

D E A N  T H O M A S 

member of the order of the phoenix, remus lupin’s biggest fan, and one hell of a wizard.

its first year and dean is scared. he’s 11 years old and not sure if he can work out how to send letters by owl. he doesn’t know if he’s even going to be any good at magic. he has to make sure that he eats and showers and does his homework. which he has to write on parchment, with a quill. then there’s a troll in the dungeon. and his friends almost die. and from then on he refuses to go anywhere alone, asking seamus to come to the bathroom with him is embarrassing, but he’d rather that than die on the loo. the rest of the year is quiet for him, but he’s always on edge. he goes home for the summer. he doesn’t tell him mum.

its second year and dean is scared. he’d heard that word in passing last year, but now having it spat in his face. mudblood. there’s a monster trying to kill them, and none of the teachers know what to do. he draws the curtains around his bed, trying to silently cry into his pillow. some of the other boys are half-bloods but not the way he is, they don’t understand. but seamus sneaks sweets in for him in the gaps between the curtains, and he shares looks with harry, letting him know that he believes him. he talks to hermione more than ever before, they share a quiet understanding and it helps, until she gets petrified too. he stops going to class. he stops going anywhere. seamus stays with him. their dorm may not be safe, but its warm, and something about being there makes him feel brave enough to make it through the day. he doesn’t get petrified. harry kills the monster. he goes home for the summer. he doesn’t tell him mum.

its third year and dean is scared. he doesn’t even get to school before dementors attack the train, then just when he thinks the nightmare is over they’re all around the school and they’re there to stay. someone’s trying to kill harry, again, but this time its a murderer responsible for his parent’s death. hogsmeade is fun, and lupin is the greatest teacher muggle or wizard that dean’s ever had, but it doesn’t stop the panic rising in his stomach every time he looks down a dark corridor, or finds himself alone. then his one safe haven is attacked, and suddenly the curtains around his bed aren’t as mighty as they used to be. he wanders at night, wand in hand, unable to sleep or even close his eyes, seamus finds him curled up in the window and sits with him. it becomes their new routine, eventually they just don’t bother going to bed, and stumble upon the warmth of sitting close under one blanket. sirius turns out to be innocent. the dememtors leave hogwarts. he goes home for the summer. he doesn’t tell his mum.

its fourth year and dean is scared. death eaters are a big deal according to just about everyone, but hogwarts feels safe again. and despite harry somehow making himself the most hated boy in the world, the tournament is a laugh and the weasleys twins are making it even more entertaining. he’s spending more and more time alone with seamus, he never quite got his sleeping back to normal so they spend their evenings and early mornings on the sofa in the common room, careful to make sure no one sees as they both know if anyone saw them they’d say they were ‘cuddling’. they walk back from hogsmeade alone, their hands brush and dean completely freezes, and then seamus is interlocking their fingers and pulling him along and dean doesn’t know what to do except hold on tight. there’s no time to talk about it or process because its the third task and cedric is dead, voldemort is back. he can’t stop crying, seamus tries to help. he goes home for the summer. he doesn’t tell his mum.

its fifth year and dean is scared. he’s been writing to seamus all summer, but something was off, he doesn’t press him about it out of fear that he’ll stop writing. then they get back to school and they meet umbridge, who is definitely the worst person on the entire planet. harry and seamus fight, and it takes all of dean’s strength not to punch harry in the face, cause he’s right, and his- seamus is just being an idiot. but he comes round and they join the da and sneaking around together makes dean’s heart go crazy. one night after narrowly escaping malfoy and his little gang, the two find themselves squashed into what has got to be the smallest corridor in the whole of hogwarts. their laughter fades away when they notice how close their faces are, if dean moved forward just a little their noses would bump together, and then if he- seamus stops his thought process by crashing their lips together, its clumsy and nervous and they can’t move their arms enough to hold each other but its the best thing to ever happen to dean, and he can’t stop smiling. but it turns out the night they almost got caught, was the night they got marietta. each time he sees a bandage wrapped around one of his friend’s hands all he wants to do is cry. he can’t look at seamus, they don’t talk and he doesn’t know why. he starts dating ginny, he doesn’t know why. he goes home for the summer. he doesn’t tell his mum.

its sixth year and dean is scared. this is the year he realises he’s in the middle of a war. he keeps pretending to like ginny, and he feels like she’s pretending too, but they never talk about it, they never talk at all. there are days when seamus avoids him completely, days when they share a sad smile from across the room, and days when dean wants to stride over to him in the great hall and bring their lips together in front of everyone. but he doesn’t. quidditch is a good distraction, until ginny is so screamingly in love with harry that even she can’t keep up the preface anymore and dumps dean, leaving him with not even a fake girlfriend to turn to. one night, when he’s halfway up a staircase, the whole thing shifts and strands him at a dead end, so dean just sits, chin resting on knees and arms wrapped around himself. he doesn’t know how long its been when he feels a hand on his shoulder, he doesn’t need to look up to know its seamus, who sits down next to him without a word. and suddenly it’s just like old times, shoulders pressed together in silence as they both think about what they can’t say. the staircase takes them back to the common room, and things are better, but they don’t fully mend them in time because albus dumbledore is dead, and the two boys stare at each other in horror as they realise that dean isn’t safe here, or anywhere. he leaves hogwarts. he doesn’t tell his mum where he is.

its seventh year and dean is terrified. there were so many stories from his childhood about runaways and they always seemed so exciting, probably because they missed out the parts about scavenging for food, sleeping on the ground, and being hunted by snatchers. he listens to potterwatch when he can, the familiar voices of lee and the weasley twins keeping him going. he knew his luck would run out eventually, but never did he think he’d be chucked in the dungeon of draco bloody malfoy’s house. but he’s never been happier to see harry potter, he’s safe now, with the order, but when they ask him to fight dean can’t say yes quickly enough. he hoped he would be there, but dean had barely climbed through the portrait hole when someone leaped into his arms and held on so tight he could barely breathe. he put seamus down, their arms still wrapped around each other and dean spares no time in kissing him, and seamus kisses him back, and the cacophony of noise that erupts around them doesn’t even matter. he knows they’ll have to fight soon, but in this moment they’re safe, and they’re together, and dean holds seamus’ face and smiles down at him like he’s the luckiest boy in the world, because he is. he punches his fair share of wizard nazis, hexes even more once he gets a wand, he knows he can’t save everyone, but none of these twats are taking seamus from him. and they don’t, because the good guys win. 

dean and seamus sit in the great hall under one blanket, holding hands and pressed together as dean lays a kiss on seamus’ head, the other boy turns into him more, clearly exhausted amongst other things that they’ll have to deal with later, but dean can’t help but smile. he looks around at the people it seems like he’s known his whole life and realises one vital thing;

he’s not scared anymore.

[thenamesseven]

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: None in this part, although there be a bunch of angst in the future. If you read the first part of this story, Liar, you’ll know what I’m talking about.

A/n: It’s finally heeeeere! :3 I finally started writing the second story of this serie and omg guys I’m so nervous and excited at the same time! Before some of you say it, I know this part is short compared to other posts buuut this is just the prologue, I wrote it to help you guys get situated about the situation in this story! Anyways, I hope you enjoy this story as much as Liar or even more, I’ll try my best in writing it!

Meeting Yugyeom was like a dream coming true, the day he admitted you were his best friend felt like being in Heaven and having a crush on him was something you knew it would happen since the beginning. At first you thought it was something childish, you have been a fan of him since you discovered GOT7 so when you finally got to meet him face to face it was normal for you to be mesmerized by that bright yet charming and boyish smile he flashed your way. As time passed your crush only grew and after some years of friendship you were the living cliche of a friendzoned best friend, you weren't sad or frustrated about it though, as stupid as it sounds you had enough being his friend.

Not everybody was lucky enough to have somebody as awesome as him in their lives.

Everything changed when she came around and even when you were a person that liked changes, you were 100% certain that Yugyeom's girlfriend meant trouble, for him and for you. Youngjae -your second best friend-, at first, had called your dislike towards Yugyeom's girlfriend jealousy. You weren't jealous though, you had accepted a long time ago that Yugyeom would never return your feelings so when he said he had found somebody, you couldn't help but feel happy for him.

Meeting Jina had been something you were looking forward until you were standing there in front if her. She didn't even talk before alarms started ringing in your head, it was the way she looked at you, the way she stood there quietly challenging you that irked your usually calm behaviour. Jina saw you as a threat and would make the impossible to make Yugyeom spend as less time as possible with you.

You saw the struggle Yugyeom went through trying to hang out with you without Jina noticing but also without you noticing what his girlfriend was trying to do. Little did he know that you already knew what was going on and that you could tell who was the one that was going to lose the battle. Love wins over friendship, his decision was pretty obvious.

Yugyeom stopped contacting you one day out of the blue, you had expected that to happen but when it truly did, it felt like your heart broke in tiny pieces that nobody would be able to put back together. Subconsciously you had been hoping he wouldn't be that kind of guy, that he wouldn't ignore the friendship the both of you built because somebody told him to.

But he was, and he left you and your feelings alone.

Accepting Yugyeom, your best friend, was not a part of your life anymore was something difficult, something you wouldn’t even wish for your worst enemy. Getting used to the memories of your time spent together, of the places you visited with him was not the worse part, the worst part was walking past him whenever you went backstage with one of the guys, going to the dorms and seeing him hanging out with his loving girlfriend.

The worst part was accepting he was still friends with everybody but not with you.

However more changes shook your life upside down, bringing Yugyeom back to your life.

It was Friday night and like usual you had successfully dodged Youngjae’s insistence on going out with him and the guys once again and ended up cuddling your pillow as you laid down on your couch during a Harry Potter marathon. You had recently finished reading the books and that made you get a little nostalgic of the movies so since you usually didn’t make plans on a Friday night you decided to watch the seven movies by yourself, in one night.

You got a bunch of steamy coffee waiting for you in your enormous mug and a bowl of popcorn that would definitely help you get through the first two movies without feeling drowsy. Watching movies by yourself tended to make you feel sleepy, that was one of the reasons Yugyeom always came over whenever you felt like watching something at home instead of going to the cinema and since you were still going through the “forget Yugyeom” phase, you had decided to start doing things you used to do with him by yourself. 

You never said you had to success though.

Loud knocks awoke you from your dreams. You had fallen asleep at the beginning of the third movie, your nap lasted two hours making you miss the entire third and fourth movie and coming back to live in the fifth one. You immediately stopped the movie, you had seen the seven of them for a lot of times but never have you ever skipped one of the movies, it just felt wrong to do so. 

Sighing you leaned back against the couch, running your fingers through your hair that had to look like a bird’s nest at this point but again the loud knocks coming from outside awoke your common sense this time. Who could be at your door at 3 am in the morning? Plus, by the tapping sound you were able to hear on your windows it was probably raining a lot outside, enough to drench you as soon as you opened the main door. It definitely couldn’t be a serial killer because those weren’t too keen on knocking before assaulting you with their knives, you didn’t have family around the area or the country and since your relationship with them wasn’t too good you knew they weren’t the ones waiting outside for you to open the door. The guys would have called before showing up for-

“(Y/N)?”

Your body froze from head to toe as soon as you heard his voice. The idea of Yugyeom standing outside of your door hadn’t even crossed your mind, in fact, you thought it would be more likely if a serial killer was standing there than Yugyeom himself. A bunch of thoughts instantly filled your mind, what is he doing here? Why would he come at this hour? He’s not drunk, is he? For a second, petty feelings took control of you and you hesitated between ignoring him and opening the door but you weren’t like that. Youngjae always said you were too good for this world, that you would have to learn to say no sometimes before people took advantage of you for too long. You were that idiot that always forgave people too easily, that always put on a big smile when you were the one hurting inside so nobody would worry about you.

You were an absolute angel sent from Heaven and that’s what made you open the door.

You would probably regret your decision later or maybe you would thank yourself for opening the door that night, you didn’t know what you would do if you didn’t take the risk.

When the door slowly opened Yugyeom felt like kneeling in front of you and asking for forgiveness until his voice vanished, he had heard the television from outside and had started thinking you truly didn’t want to see him again when he knocked and you didn’t open the door. Being blinded by love turned him into a jerk and Yugyeom knew he didn’t deserve your forgiveness, that he didn’t even deserve to breathe the same air as you for disappearing from your life without a word, without an explanation but he also knew, that deep down, you still missed him and that you would warm up to him if he worked to get your friendship back.

Friendship worked like that, right? You wouldn’t turn your back to him...Right?

“Yugyeom” 

You had not been prepared for the sight in front of you. Yugyeom stood at your porch absolutely drenched from head to toe, hair sticking to his skin as he kept attempting to brush it away with his also wet sleeve. His eyes were red and puffy, a clear sign that he had been crying and his cheeks red due to the cold air that was blowing that night. He had a duffle bag in hand, filled with clothes probably. Your eyes widen in realization, he had been kicked out from his apartment.

“C-Come inside, you’re going to get sick if you keep standing there”

Yugyeom had not been prepared to come back to you. He had expected insults, a bunch of shouting and even a couple of punches from your cute little fists but he hadn’t expected to see your usually bright eyes to be filled with worry and for you to move aside and let him into your house so easily? You were definitely an angel.

He had thought there were no tears left to cry in his eyes, that he had cried his lungs and eyes out on his way to your house but as soon as he stepped inside and the warmth feeling mixed with your sweet scent hit him like a ton of bricks Yugyeom broke down in front of you, sobbing like a child who had lost his favorite toy. Yugyeom fell on his knees, a puddle of water and tears surrounding him as you stood there, so shocked and surprised that your body wasn’t even reacting. You could only think where’s the happy Yugyeom I knew? Who’s the guy crying in front of me?

Where’s my Yugyeom?

And even when you could see your Yugyeom was broken, that he was absolutely gone you didn’t want to admit it, you didn’t want to see it.

The first break up it’s horrible because it’s the first time your heart breaks. Good thing Yugyeom had somebody to help him reconstruct it, because he knew he could make things right between the both of you again, he knew you would help him out of this one. His first mistake was falling in love with Jina, his second mistake was ignoring you but isn’t it true that two wrongs make a right?

Or like people say, one nail drives out another…

Right?

[siswritesyanderes]

How about Yandere!Harry with a Malfoy!Crush? She's like Draco younger twin/little sister.

Okay! Finally getting around to my asks again, lol.

So, in this case, the beginning stuff for my Harry/Death Eater’s daughter post still stands: Harry’s interest likely starts off as suspicion, and he often gets all stalkery for the greater good.

In this case, we get to be more specific, though: Harry’s interest in Draco’s sister would probably start in year two, when he briefly thought that Draco might be the heir of Slytherin. Because if it could be Draco, it could also be her. So while the Polyjuice potion is brewing (this time for Harry and Ron to interrogate Draco and for Hermione to interrogate the sister), Harry starts to become more cognizant of Draco’s sister as an entity around the castle.

Since she’s never been a bully, he’s never noticed her much, positively or negatively, but now that he’s suspicious of her, he becomes aware of how differently she acts than her brother. She was raised in what is more or less wizarding aristocracy, and while this brought about an arrogance in Draco, in her it manifests via extreme politeness and good manners, approaching solemnity. Somehow, despite being a Malfoy, she doesn’t seem like a bad person; she treats Muggle-borns with the same unfailing courtesy with which she addresses other purebloods, and she is almost as formal with fellow students as she is with teachers.

This makes him even more suspicious; she has to be hiding something. So when Hermione’s Polyjuice doesn’t work properly, he chooses to interrogate the sister himself and leave Draco to Ron.

Of course, both the sister and Draco are innocent, but this is the first time he holds a conversation with her. 

“Become verbose, have you, Goyle?” she says, with a slightly perplexed smile.

It’s also the first time he’s seen her smile.

He’s focused on the mystery of the heir of Slytherin, so he isn’t sure what to make of the fact that he finds himself looking at her, during classes or meals, even though he now knows that she isn’t the heir. Trying to catch her smiling again. But, again, he has a school to save, so he doesn’t devote that much time to thinking about her. But the seed is planted that year.

As his schooling goes on, he thinks about her more and more: 

In third year, when he has to sneak into Hogsmeade under the Cloak, he briefly follows her in and out of shops, listening to her talking to her friends. He isn’t sure why he does it; it’s just on a whim. Some other time during the year, when Draco is being dramatic about his Buckbeak-induced injury, he spots her secretly rolling her eyes, which makes him laugh despite himself.

In fourth year, she acknowledges him; once in the hallway, before the First Task, she covertly whispers, “Be careful.” When he isn’t able to ask Cho to the Yule Ball, he finds himself thinking about her, even though he keeps reminding himself that she’s a Malfoy and it would be a terrible idea. Then, when he eventually strikes out with Cho, he does actually ask her to the Ball (covertly, as well, when the opportunity accidentally arises; they never acknowledge each other in ways that would be noticed by people they know). “Apologies; Zabini asked me. I think Draco told him to,” is her answer, and he’s surprised that this causes him greater pain than Cho’s rejection did. He chalks it up to humiliation at the risk he’s taken; now she’ll tell her brother for sure, and Harry will never hear the end of it. Whoever doesn’t think he’s pathetic will think he’s mad. But days pass, and the information doesn’t seem to have spread. And then he remembers that the only reason she gave for saying no was the prior commitment with Zabini. And he is confused: Is he actually, fully, taking interest in Draco Malfoy’s sister? After the Third Task, she isn’t on his mind much (for obvious reasons), although he does notice that she doesn’t meet his eyes anymore. Having seen her father among Voldemort’s inner circle in that graveyard, his feelings are even more confused.

In fifth year, at the height of his anger, he notes that she must be actively avoiding him, because he never sees her. He finds himself watching her on the Marauders Map (because I’m pretty sure all yandere!Harrys eventually get around to that stage). But he doesn’t try to run into her or anything; that happens by accident, when he’s on his way back from a detention with Umbridge. Needless to say, this is a bad time for him.

“Going to see your best friend Umbridge?” he demands.

“I beg your pardon?” she responds.

“All your lot just love her, right?”

“I’ll forgive your tone because your hand is actively bleeding, but I advise you to mind it in the future, Potter. As it happens, I’m here to inquire after a lost textbook. I’m no more affiliated with Delores Umbridge than anyone is.”

He covers his bleeding hand, having meant to hide it anyway. “I don’t see you challenging her, though. You know Voldemort’s back. You know what your father is.”

This clearly gets to her; an ashamed expression crosses her face, but she swiftly covers it up and icily says, “What you don’t see is of no import to me, Potter.” And she walks past him.

Somehow, he feels guilty over the encounter. Although he does hate that she isn’t making her allegiance known, he is fond of her. He wishes she didn’t stifle her own moral compass to appease her family.

When Hermione proposes the club that would soon become Dumbledore’ Army, he considers inviting her to join. He has a feeling that she would keep it a secret. But he decides against it; it’s too great a risk. When Dobby tells him about the Room of Requirement, though, Dobby also mentions that the Malfoy girl (he starts to call her “Miss”) is the one who told him about it. This sells Harry; if Dobby is still in contact with her after serving her family, and if he seems to have favorable feelings towards her, then she can’t be a bad person. She’s just trapped in a horrible family. When he gives his interview for the Quibbler exposing Mr. Malfoy, he finds her crying silently in an abandoned stairway. She runs away before he can say anything to her, and she continues to avoid him for the rest of the year. This only stokes his feeling that she needs to be rescued.

Sixth year is when it really ferments from “weird crush” to yandere territory. His guess that Malfoy is a Death Eater again increases his concern for her. And her father having been sent to Azkaban has clearly affected her badly. She is always walking with either her brother or one of her brother’s friends. He follows her under the Cloak and watches her on the Map, waiting for openings in which she is alone and can be spoken to, but she is simply never alone. So he uses Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder to cause a confusion, then drags her into a broom closet.

“Lumos! Don’t worry; it’s just me.”

“Potter?! What’s going on?”

“We needed to talk.”

“Let go of my arm.”

“You’re not like the Death Eaters. Your parents, your brother; you’ve got to-”

“Have care what accusations you make about my brother. And I’ve asked you to let go of my arm. If you do not, I shall hex you.”

He lets go, reluctantly. “If you need to be protected, our side can protect you.”

“Everyone needs to be protected, Potter; we’re at war. Worry about yourself. Worry about Dumbledore.”

“Dumbledore? Why should I worry about-?”

“Don’t do this again.” She leaves.

Harry slips Puking Pastils Zabini’s Slug Club dinner one day just because he remembers he went to the Yule Ball with her. (He literally doesn’t know if they’ve even spoken since, but having once taken her from him is enough to earn his enmity.)

He maybe sees her once or twice for the entire rest of the year, not counting the many times he invisibly follows her.

The next year, he isn’t at Hogwarts, but he often thinks about to what degree she is safe from the effects of the war.

When they’re brought to Malfoy Manor, Draco pretends to be unsure as to whether he recognizes Harry. She takes it even farther: “Of course it’s not Potter, Brother; I recognize him. He was a year above us, I think.”

When the breakout from Malfoy Manor happens, Harry grabs her before they vanish to Shell Cottage. Everyone is shocked at him, her included, but she is silent while they protest:

“Harry! Why did you-?!”

“She’ll contact her family!”

Hermione fires Incarcerous at her to bind her in ropes and takes her wand.

“She saved our lives,” Harry says. “She wasn’t safe there.”

Meanwhile, still in the ropes, she says, “Dobby?” (And then Dobby dies; that part is roughly the same.)

He orders her to stay in Shell Cottage when they leave. He tells everyone else that it’s to protect their secrets, but really he just needs to know that she’s safe. She doesn’t put up much resistance; she doesn’t want to join the fight. When Bill and Fleur go to battle at Hogwarts, she is locked up in one of the cottage’s rooms with magic.

After the battle, the Malfoys demand to know where she is, and he tells them that she is safe, but he gives no more information, ostensibly because they will probably be in Azkaban soon anyway, but really because he wants to know that he has her to himself on the off-chance that they aren’t sent to Azkaban. They’ve done enough to harm her, he rationalizes.

He returns to Shell Cottage before even Bill and Fleur do.

“Your family survived.”

“That’s good.” It’s clear that being alone and out of the loop has shaken her up. “That’s good.”

“…Except for Bellatrix. She’s dead.”

“Also good.” 

(This convinces him, absolutely, that her Auntie Bella harmed her at some point, and he wishes suddenly that Bellatrix were still alive to suffer.)

“You could come to my place. It probably wouldn’t be wise for you to be out and about right now.”

“Because the Death Eaters are getting rounded up,” she guesses in a brittle voice.

“You could stay with me.”

“For my safety?” She almost laughs, and it bothers him that she clearly knows his ulterior motive. “I’d like to decline the offer, if I have a choice.”

“Well, you don’t have a wand,” he points out mildly, trying not to be too harsh in his implication that she doesn’t, in fact, have a choice. He offers his arm. “Come with me.”

She looks pitiful as she takes his arm. Even now, she needs to be rescued. He is rescuing her.

They Apparate to Grimmauld Place. He doesn’t allow her to leave. Eventually, she stops asking. The war broke her will to rebel, so he doesn’t have to.

Essentially, Hero Complex shows up with a vengeance. (This ended up really long, and I ended it kind of abruptly, but there ya go.)

[purplesurveys]

474

Tumblr makes the spacing kinda weird by the end, idk why but I hope it gets better for everyone else who wants to take this haha.

ONE - HI THERE! It’s an intro!

What do most people call you? Robyn. In what month is your birthday? April. What country were you born in? The beautiful but politically miserable Philippines. Do you have siblings? How many, if you do? I do; I have two. I’m the eldest, but they aren’t that far off from me. Who do you live with? I’m still studying so I’m living with family for now – mom and dad, a sister and a brother, and a dog. I really want to move out in the next couple of years though.

Are you in a relationship? Yes. Do you go to school? As I said, yes. I’m in university but I’m supposed to graduate next year. What mood are you in right now? Well, I wrapped up my internship last week and my entire weekend was booked with stuff I did, so now I’m just super glad to be home and bum around after all that hectic-ness. I just had 8 hours of sleep and am feeling pretty well-rested right now. What does your shirt look like? I’m wearing a big-ass gray Knicks sweater that’s like 3 sizes bigger for me. What’s your zodiac sign? Taurus.

TWO - Your Appearance

If you could have plastic surgery on any one body part, what would it be?Boobs. They’re so abnormally small that I’m tired of having to waste what would have been completely bomb outfits just because of my chest.

Are you satisfied with your hair? It could have less baby hair, honestly. But I’m fine with it for the most part.

Do you have a hitchhikers or a straight thumb? It’s a straight thumb. My left pinky is quite crooked though.

What colour are your eyes? Dark brown.

Do you have any tan lines? No, I haven’t gone to the beach in a while.

How old do people usually think you are? I just asked this question to Gabie last week and she said that I look 15.

What about your appearance do you get complimented on the most? Face and my overall figure.

Are you comfortable with your weight? Sure, but it’s always worrisome when I get to the lower 90s.

Do you have any piercings or tattoos? Where? Yeah, just the basic earlobes piercings that my parents got for me when I was a couple of months old.

How tall are you? I am 5′1″ and a half. I’m shorter than 5′2″, that’s for sure.

THREE - True or False

I love winter. Neither true or false as I have never experienced snow. I think I’d love it though.

I have eaten meat in the past five days. True. Filipinos eat meat a lot.

I have painted a room in a house. False. My mom is so controlling over adult things like that so she hired people to do it to all our rooms.

I can whistle. True. I learned pretty early.

My keyboard is black. True-ish? The buttons are black, but the spaces between them are silver.

I have never bought something off an infomercial. True. My mom would be so furious because it would be her money anyway.

I own a snuggie / would like to own a snuggie. False.

I bite my pens / pencils. False. I do bite my straws though.

I wear glasses / contacts. True.

My nails are painted right now. False.

FOUR - Childhood Memories!

What was your all time favourite movie as a kid? THE GAME PLAN, without a shadow of a doubt. Watched that shit everyday through third and fourth grade. My runner-up would be High School Musical.

Do you still have your first pair of shoes somewhere? Doubt it. My mom isn’t big on memories like me.

Did you have anything you always dragged around the house, like a blanket?Nope. I did use my parents’ blanket as a cape some days, and other days it would be a gown train and I’d pretend I was the Queen, but I wouldn’t drag it because it would get dirty.

What toy did you play with the most? I was always into grownup stuff so I always got kitchen appliances, dollhouses, etc. I once had toys that mimicked a pizza restaurant and it had a pizza roller and it was super fun for me haha. Once I got a pretend cash register though it was game over for all these bitches.

Did you ever bring your favourite toys in the bathtub? We didn’t have a bathtub, but yeah we would bring in our toys when we would shower.

Did you used to take baths with siblings/cousins? ^ Ooh, barely missed it. Yes, we did.

Are you still friends with your best friends from long ago? A handful are still my best friends. I keep in touch with most of my batchmates from my high school because we’re all close and we’re family and there was generally very little drama – and if there was, it was easy to let go.

Do your parents ever tell you stories about how cute/silly you were? They have several stories, but I was mostly a quiet kid who didn’t like getting in trouble.

Did you go to the park often? What was a typical outfit for the 5-year-old you?Blouses with a girly pattern, denim jeans, and Nike rubber shoes. The top always has to be tucked in.

FIVE - FAVOURITES

Actor/Actress: Kate Winslet

Singer/Band/Both: Beyonce / Paramore

Chocolate: Reese’s

Toothpaste: ??? Whatever we have at home I guess?

Picture of yourself: Nah man, not doing that here.

Pair of sunglasses: I don’t have a favorite.

Vegetable: Broccoli!

Sandwich: Monte Cristo

Aspect of nature: Waterfalls

Word to say: “Literally”

SIX - Love Life ;)

Who was the first person to ever ask you out? No one’s ever asked me out before. Although I think that dude from one of my classes in sophomore year intended to…but I dunno. We were paired up together for this class and he wanted to spend time with me in a coffee shop after our work was done; I didn’t feel comfortable just being by myself so I told him in advance that I was gonna be bringing Gabie…never heard from him ever again :/

What does your ideal date consist of? Dinner somewhere nice (Italian or Japanese) should be enough for me.

What’s one thing your partner must be able to accept about you? I get sad and I’ll need loooooooong stretches of time alone some days.

Does your ideal person have any special talents? She can paint and draw. She doesn’t really share these with other people but she does with me.

Do your parents like the person you’re with? (Or the last person) My parents liked Mike and were convinced something was happening between us lmao. They don’t know about my relationship with Gabie yet.

Do you like pet names? Yes when it’s just the two of us. Publicly, I control myself, cos I know it annoys me when other people are too showy/vocal. Like I don’t call Gab pet names when we’re out with friends; and when we’re out at the mall or whatever, I’m not very physical other than holding her hand.

What is your age range? Same age. I can’t imagine dating someone younger or older, but then again this is because I haven’t had any other experience.

What is one attribute that your ideal partner must have? Sincerity.

When was the last time someone seriously said “I love you.” to you? This morning.

Have you ever been in more than one relationship at a time? No.

SEVEN - The wonderful world of the Internet!

What is your most used website? Probably Twitter. It’s the first thing I check everyday.

Do you play any online games? Other than playing on Y8 when I was younger, no.

Which chat program do you use most often? Messenger.

Facebook vs Myspace- which is better? I haven’t used Myspace in a hot minute, so I’ll go with Facebook.

Is there someone you met online that you’d like to meet in person? Yes, I’m still waiting to meet Aliyah. Girl is in BGC every single day but I can’t seem to grab lunch or dinner with her!

Have you ever sold something on Ebay or Craigslist? No.

Have you ever gone on Chatroulette? Or Omegle video? Yeah, when I was like 12 and curious about the Internet haha.

Are there any videos of yourself on Youtube? I don’t think so.

Mac or PC? Mac.

Have you ever Googled your name? I’ve Googled my username before, but not my name.

EIGHT - This or That?

Twilight or Harry Potter?

French fries or potato wedges?

Liquid ortape white out?

Digital or film camera?

Nail clippersor nail scissors?

Rock, paper, or scissors?

Beard or mustache?

Knee high or ankle socks?

Hockey or basketball?

Mr Clean or sponge and ‘the other leading cleaning product’?

NINE - Be cool, stay in school!

What subject are/were you best at? It’s always history, or social studies in general.

How old will you be when you graduate high school / how old were you? I was 18 when I graduated.

Isn’t there that point in the year when you stop caring so much? Yep, it’s usually when you’re a senior.

Do/did you have any really cool teachers? In UP? Absolutely. There’s a lot of shitty profs, but the cool ones are way too hardcore.

Who is/was your most strict teacher? Sir Ruel in my old school. Old man was and is such a fucking loser. Once had a comment about my breasts and I never forgot about it. Also kicked me and a bunch of other kids out of his class in fifth grade because we didn’t have crayons. He actually got booted by the school for a year because a parent complained about him, but he came back after.

Where do/did you sit at lunch? In high school, the cafeteria was too crowded so my friend group would hang out in our classroom, since most of us were classmates. Right now, lunch just depends on my schedule and where I happen to be by noon.

What do/did you do at recess? Catch up on homework I skipped the night before.

There’s always that one kid who no one really knows, right? LOL, yes.

Is/was your cafeterias food actually any good? It used to be good. Then they kind of hired this company to start making the meals starting junior year and the food was never as good again.

Do/did you have a stereotypical school, with all those cliques and such? You can say that. We had popular party kids, smart but still cool kids, soccer players, the basketball players who all turned out gay, kids who kinda just hovered in the middle, and those who were kinda brushed to the side were the theatre and anime kids.

TEN - Randomly Platypus.

Do you like your toothbrush really wet when you’re brushing your teeth? Not really wet. I just make sure I’ve put it under the running water before applying the toothpaste.

What song are you currently obsessed with? Not into anything at the moment.

What was the stupidest dare you’ve ever done? I hate dares, so I don’t do them haha.

Do you enjoy playing with tape? No?

What’s one word/phrase you say too much? LITERALLY. Which is a problem because most of the time, the things I associate the word with aren’t literal.

When was the last time you went trick-or-treating? 2017.

What did you last use a knife for? Haha, my orgmates were cooking up lunch and I volunteered to chop up the onions. Fun fact: First time to use a knife, ever.

When you open a pack of gum, why is everyone your best friend? Because gum is always a good idea.

What has been on your mind way too much? Completing my requirements for internship so I can submit them as early as possible.

Did you actually enjoy my survey? Sure. Categories are always fun.