#harry commented on his looks more time than he paid attention to ginny

[scaramionee]

Please don't cancel me for this take...

Just saw a post where someone was saying, " well, apparently, most of the time I've seen canon lovers hating on jeg*lus shippers were literally tomarry shippers themselves. TOMARRY??!! That's insane, I thought they only consumed canon exclusive content? Then why are they-" blah blah blah mate have you even READ harry potter books ? Harry was practically drooling over young hot asf 40s Tom. Some quotes regarding his looks were slightly insane and a bit gay, I thought I was reading some freaky toxic yaoi shit but then I realized "oh wait, that's canon!"

[potter-imagines]

Not Like The Movies (Fred Weasley)

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader 

Request: Fred Weasley imagine where him and Angelina are kind of “talking” but the reader and Angelina are really good friends and she doesn’t know that there “talking” so when Angelina tells her, she seems okay with it, “it’s not like I’ve liked him since first year.” And since she’s on the quidditch team, she kind of drops out. And starts to hung out more with Cedric and that’s when Fred gets jealous and realizes it was never Angelina but the reader. the whole reason he liked Angelina was because of some letters she gave him but she never wrote them, the reader did...Happy ending with Fred and reader.

Warning: None, just swearing and lil angst

Word Count: 11.7k (got carried away, soooo sorry)

Falling in love with your best friend was nothing short of a curse for you. Sadly, life was not like the movies and sometimes, the person you’re in love with just simply does not feel the same. Movies promised you magic. Laughing and crying, music swelling, camera panning, and always a happy, or satisfying ending. Late at night when you would fall asleep, the image of your best friend would flash across your mind, encapsulating your subconscious. You pictured him lying beside you, telling you jokes and holding you in his arms. You dreamed about what it was like to be his, to call him yours. You thought about how it would feel as  he gently strokes your cheek with his palm and his lips find yours. The camera sweeps and falls. We fade to black and everytime, your eyes open from your sleep and the movie comes to an end.

Having grown up with the boy and his twin, falling in love was the easy part; admitting your feelings became the obstacle. It put a slight wedge between your friendship with Fred. You hated how easy it was to fall for him. His stupid laugh, stupid smile, stupid heart, stupid kindess, everything about him was so stupidly loveable.

Although Fred didn’t exactly give you reasons to not feel this way. In actuality, Fred Weasley made it nearly impossible not to fall in love with him. It started with meeting you in the common room each morning and escorting you around the castle, sometimes with George but mostly alone. He’d ‘jokingly’ hold your hand, swinging it widely back and forth as you skipped down the halls. During Qudditch, his attention always trailed off the tracks to you, even when he was miles up in the sky flying around. His eyes would dart to you, just to confirm that you were okay. He was your go to study buddy- although it would typically consist of whispering jokes and talking about your day, rather than studying. Fred was always the one to invite you to his home for break, not that his other siblings didn’t want you, Fred just wanted to be the one who got to ask you. During parties in the common room, you were glued to his side. Fred would toss his arm around your shoulder casually as you sat with your friends. He’d cuddle you on the couch while you chatted away with your friends. You two were never safe from the teasing of your friends, especially George. George Weasley had been pawning for you and his brother to get together since his second year.

Now, there was never an official title given to your uh, predicament. This didn’t mean that people weren’t aware of what was occurring. Hell, even Ron was in on the loop. So, it wasn’t hard for everyone else in the Gryffindor common room to comprehend your shock and anger when you walked in only to find Fred Weasley practically snogging Angelina Johnson on the main couch. Your mouth dropped instantly and your eyes were bugging. And everyone was looking between the pair, and your sudden entrance.

You felt like the ringleader at a circus and all the audience had their eyes on you, the crowd consisting of your few friends who knew your feelings. The voice in your head screamed at you to take action- to go rip Angelina off Fred’s lap and toss her to the ground. It was a vile urge, one that never popped in your thoughts before now. Burning holes into their heads you narrowed your gaze as Angelina snaked her arm around Fred’s broad shoulder, leaning her body into the touch. As if it was second nature, Fred’s arm slipped around her wait, snatching her body forward with a cheeky wink. Your mouth went dry, sahara desert dry. The inside of your stomach coiled into tight knots, a sickening sensation budding. An echoing scream filled your mind, yelling at you to look away, just look away Y/n. Something building, maybe curiosity or maybe disbelief, simply wouldn’t allow this.

Hermione pulled at your hand, silently begging you to walk away with her. You hear the sound of her demanding voice whispering to you, although you neglected to process them. Neither Fred nor Angelina seemed to notice all the attention- if they did, they did a good job hiding it. An indescribable mix of emotion brewed; Angelina Johnson was your close friend next to Hermione. Since first year, she has been your roommate, your potions partner, a chaser just like you, and an amazing friend. She even spent a month of the summer holiday at your home, for crying out loud! You wanted to be angry, you wanted so bad to just scold Angelina and tell her how bad the sight was before you hurt to watch, but you couldn’t. Despite your solid friendship, Angelina was never informed on the feelings you had developed for Fred. In second year you had confessed to her that you had a small crush on the twin, but nothing else ever came. Of course you didn’t know Angelina had liked Fred either. Angelina, Fred, George, and yourself were all in the same school year and house so naturally a friendship arose. As years dwindled on, Angelina drifted away a bit and started spending more time with Alicia Spinott and Katie Bell. You still made time for each other- not to mention living together and spending at least a few hours each day together.

But when Angelina shifted groups, it left you room to grow closer with Fred and George. By your third year, Lee had filled in Angelina’s spot and the four of you raked havoc among Hogwarts. Lee Jordan was a great friend, he always let you sit up in the announcing booth during Quidditch matches when Gryffindor wasn’t playing. In those cases, he was vocally cheering you on through the microphone as you raced around the pitch. When it came to Fred and George, there was a different type of bond you created. You had spent nights on end sprawled around the dorm room of the Weasley twins, chatting about everything and nothing for hours. They invited you in on their pranks, showed you their prized Marauders Map, brought you to The Burrow for holidays, bought you presents for Christmas/birthdays, visited you during the summer, and more. The three of you always sat together in class, sometimes making Lee move a table over. It was always the three of you. Somewhere along the way, you started looking at one twin in particular in a different light. Both were handsome, but something about Fred made your heart race. Everytime his hand brushed against your during class, an electric tingle shot through your spine. He was protective over you, in a brotherly way you assumed, but it was sweet nonetheless. Even during matches Fred always kept an eye out for you on the Quidditch pitch. Never did he miss the chance to gloat about how he basically saved your life three different times. After a long day of class, the two of you would sometimes cuddle on the couch in the common room or in his dorm while talking with George. It was a running joke among your friends about the two of you dating. George loved to tease you two, making kissy faces and telling the two of you to ‘get together already’. George was certainly not the first, nor only, person to make such comments to Fred and yourself. Hermione asked weekly when you would start dating, Harry would question every so often, Ginny asked every hour when you’d get married, and Ron hardly paid enough attention to notice anything occurring.

Pestering and prodding, their questions remained unanswered. You never quite knew what to say, but George, Hermione, Ginny, and even Harry, knew. They kept silent in your presence. Behind closed doors, they seemed to have figured it out. Ron was present for all this but once again, he really didn’t care much to give an overload of input. He wasn’t too interested though and only came to feel a part of the discussion.

The person they couldn’t figure out was Fred Weasley. For the first time in his life, George couldn’t give a solid answer on how his twin was feeling. Typically, George always knew. He was certain Fred had fancied you when they were younger but now in your sixth year, it was hard for him to tell. The two of you had been flirting for years and even though it increased with every year, no actual moves ever came. George wondered if it truly was just flirting in Fred’s mind. Everytime he tiptoed near the topic of Fred’s feelings for you and if he had any, Fred shut it down in an instant. He’d tell George to ‘sod off’ and refused to speak on it. It gave George jumbled ideas.

So when Hermione came up with the idea of you spilling your feeling for Fred in an anonymous letter, it was an appealing thought. George toyed with the plan, a strange pang pulling in his guts told him this was a bad idea. He didn’t know why, but George was scared something would go wrong. He still hadn’t gotten a proper grasp on Fred’s feelings yet. If there was even a chance Fred would decline your confession of heart, George would feel terribly guilty for setting you up to fall. Harry sat this conversation out with Ron, not feeling like it was his place to be this involved. Ginny was in agreement with Hermione, of course, but George kept pushing for them to rethink. Although it was too late, you were already mentally planning a letter.

A week later you nervously handed George a small envelope. Inside was a folded up piece of parchment and in black ink was the words of your emptying out your heart to Fred. You dedicated a small poem to him, then on another page, you dropped small hints about your identity. You included memories, such as meeting on the Hogwarts Express, playing Quidditch together, trips to Hogsmeade, late nights talk, and more. Part of you hoped he solved the mystery right away. The larger part of you crossed your fingers that he felt the same way.

Taking your letter, George was sweating in fear. He had never been so unsure of his brother’s reaction in his life. There were many different ways this could go; the main two being either really really well, or really really bad. For some reason, George was leaning towards the latter.

Hermione on the other hand insisted Fred felt the same. She could sense it, whatever that means. You knew your friend was the most brilliant witch of your time, but she seemed wrong about this one. And now, as you stood staring at your roommate and best friend snuggled up on the couch you were just cuddling with him on last week, Hermione most definitely seemed to be wrong about this one.

Before you got the chance to see Fred and Angelina take their exchanges any further, a tall frame stepped in front of you, blocking your path of sight. Tilting your head up you were met with the soft, pitiful eyes of George Weasley. The other half of your trio reached out and held your shoulders in his hands, gripping your focus.

“We need to talk.”

Hermione followed George up to her door without creating any commotion. They didn’t want to catch anyone’s attention who would question their exit, especially Fred or Angelina. Speaking of which, Hermione led you and George to her dorm as it seemed to be the only chance of you not having to face either of the pair. Slamming the door with a huff, Hermione spun around and pointed to the tall Weasley shifting awkwardly.

“So what the bloody hell was that, George?” Hermione cut through the tension with her sharp words. You refused to meet either of their eyes. The lazer like study of George  melting into the side of your head. Your friend slugged over to the bed across from Hermione’s and plopped down. A heavy, tiresome, sigh fell from his lips.

“I just found out last night- I had no clue until Fred told me last night. She was leaving and… I’m just as lost as you guys.”

“What about the letter?” Hermione crossed her arms, starting over at George in anticipation.

“Lee told Fred ‘bout how he saw Angelina by our dorm earlier last week so Fred thinks she’s the one who wrote the letter. Guess it made him interested in her- I don’t know if he asked her about them or not but I guess they went out last week and now they’re… a thing? I don’t know, I’m sorry, darling. I didn’t know what to say, he just told me about it right before you came in. I wouldn’t have let you walk in that otherwise- Y/n I swear on that.” Shaking your head, you could feel the emotions bottling up to a spillage. Running a hand over your reddening face you expressed,n

“I know, George. It’s not your fault, I’m not mad at you, I could never. Just mad at the situation. I was stupid to think it would work between us.”

Hermione sat on the end of her bed, her eyes glaring out the window. Her head snapped in your direction. Mouth crack open ajar, her angry expression turned to disbelief and guilt. Shaking her head back and forth she exclaimed,

“It was my idea for you to write the letter, Y/n. I’m the one who should be apologizing for getting you into this mess-”

“No really, it’s not your guys fault. It’s no ones. If Fred likes Angelina then, he likes Angelina. I can’t change that and telling him I was the one who wrote the letter certainly won’t change that either. Love fucking sucks!” You shouted. George’s hands fumbled in his lap as he desperately tried to avoid your frame. He wasn’t sure he could handle the image. To George, the responsibility lay upon his shoulders but his heart suddenly broke into  million tiny pieces when he registered the small sobe choking out. The tears uncontrollably began to roll. You covered your mouth as you fell back into the bed sheets. Salty tears streamed down your cheeks, skipping down the skin. They poured from the side of her skin, splashing against the blanket underneath her.

The familiar grip of George wrapped around your body in an instant. Hermione attached herself as well, the two of them comforting you together. It was soothing to feel his hands rubbing against your back, and Hermione’s head resting on your shoulder.

“Y/n, no, no, please don’t cry, love. Please- shit Y/n, I’m so sorry.” You slumped into their arms, allowing their hugs.

George decided to stay for a few hours. The three of you just laid in Hermione’s bed chatting quietly about everything and anything except Fred Weasley. They made an effort to weave every conversation away from that danger zone. George placed a pillow in his lap, allowing you a seat for your head. Hermione’s bed wasn’t big enough for the three of you to sit spaciously so, he made do. Besides, George was your best friend so it was far more natural for him to cuddle with you than Hermione. He was sure Ron would have an earful for him if that was the case. Hermione sat with her back against the bed frame similar to George. His hands petted your hair delicately, lulling you into a deep sleep. Exhaustion from tears and disappointment, your slumber arrived quickly. As your light snores bounced off the stone walls of Hermione’s dorm room, she nudged George. He looked over in a second with a curious gaze.

“Does he really like her? Angelina?” She whispered the words so faint, they almost went unnoticed to George.

“I don’t know, Hermione. I mean… he’s my bloody twin and never has he ever even mentioned finding her attractive let alone wanting to date her. It’s all just… shocking. I should get going soon, though. Catch him before he goes to bed and maybe then I can get some answers.” George slowly lifted from the bed. He set his hand behind your head for support as he moved the pillow. As light as a feather, he placed your head down on the pillow and backed away as quiet as a mouse. The clock was approaching two in the morning and his heavy lids were starting to collapse. It wasn’t a terrible walk to his room, but it also wasn’t lightning speed. His sleepiness was taking over and if he fell asleep in Hermione’s bed with both her and you, he’d be expelled before sunrise, no matter the circumstance.

Hermione nodded and slipped down so she was laying in her bed. She

“Alright, George. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Taking a step out the door, the tall boy stuck his head back

“You want me to carry her up to her room?” He asked kindly. Hermione looked up at him, clearly doubtful on his offer. “For some reason, I don’t think Y/n will be too pleased to wake up in the same room as Angelina.” They both laughed, careful not to wake you. George mentally face palmed.

“Right. Can’t say that doesn’t make sense. Uh, goodnight, Hermione. Thanks for staying with her.” George mumbled awkwardly. The young witch just smiled and waved to him.

“Of course. Goodnight, George.”

By the time George had trudged back to his room, Fred was passed out, sleeping on top of his blankets instead of under, so George decided to hold off on setting his twin right. As he fell asleep, his thoughts worried about you. He was scared you would hide yourself away, detach from him in order to keep distance from his twin. George considered you to be his best friend, and having you hurt by the actions of his brother made him feel like shit. He found himself praying to whatever god might be listening that when the sun peaked up behind the darkness, you would be okay. Although when morning came, no one could find you. Hermione informed George that you had sneaked out early when the sun rose and she had yet to see you since.

Fred stumbled down the steps and into the common room around noon, rubbing his eyes in a groggy state. His feet dragged across the floor resembling more of a zombie than a human. Just as he entered, George, Harry, Ron and Hermione were standing from the leather sofa heading for the portrait. Ron was the one who noticed Fred and happily invited him along for their lunchtime run.  This earned an overdramatic roll of the eyes from Hermione and an awkward wince from Harry. The not so subtle gesture made Fred tilt his head. Nonetheless, he agreed, placing himself at George’s side and giving him a side hug.

The five took off for the dinning hall, making small talk as they went.

George’s jaw hit the floor as he waltzed into the Great Hall only to find you sitting at the end of the Hufflepuff table with Cedric Diggory. He stood, the wind knocked out of him in utter astonishment. Based on the events of the night before, he was expecting you to be still cuddled into Hermione’s bed, or eyes brimming with tears, but you were the exact opposite. A bright, million dollar smile shined from your face. George could hear your laughter from the adjacent direction of the dinning hall. Cedric was sitting beside you, his arms resting on the table as his eyes gazed at you. Everyone knew you guys were friends but it was more, acquaintances or classmates rather than best friends. He pondered if this was your act of retaliation against Fred getting with Angelina- or maybe you truly were trying to move on. No matter the reality, George knew this wasn’t just two friends catching up, and if that was the case, you two had a weird way of showing it.

The sight made a large grin creep to Hermione’s lips. Harry and Ron were completely lost in translation as to why you were sitting with him and Fred, well Fred was livid. So livid the shade of his cheeks was an exact match to the shade of his hair, and everyone saw it. He stopped walking and, quite loudly, choked on the thick air of the room. Some looked over at the sound, intrigued George kicked at the back of his shoe, signaling Fred to keep walking. He obliged, but his focus stayed trained on you and Cedric. At their movement, he slowly lifted his head and was greeted with the fiery eyes of Fred. A teasing smirk hit his lips which only made the fire burning inside Fred blaze harder. Cedric leaned down softly to whisper in your ear, his words making your turn to glance at your friends. You sent them a wave, then turned back to Cedric. You’d be lying to yourself if you said it didn’t bring you a slight joy to see the visible reaction of Fred.

George dragged his brother to the Gryffindor table, practically shoving him into a seat. He sat down next to him as the rest of the group took the seats around them. All their friends were staring at Fred, waiting for his next move.

Smacking his fist on the tabletop in vexation, Fred fumed,

“Is… is that Y/n and Diggory? That’s Y/n and fucking Diggory!”

George met his brother with a deadpan expression.

“Thanks, Fred, couldn’t tell. I mean, they have been friends since our second year.” He muttered. Although this was true, you only recently started talking again. Cedric was popular among students at Hogwarts so as the years trialed on, it became harder and harder to keep a close bond with him. You never had a nasty falling out- you still waved and smiled at each other during class and in the halls, you just stopped spending your free time together as often. Cedric was constantly with his little group of friends and you were rarely disconnected from Fred and George’s hips.

But when he saw you wandering the halls, tear strokes staining your cheeks, he rekindled the friendship with his natural kindness. Wordlessly, Cedric halted his journey to the Great Hall and kneeled down in front of you, asking you what was the matter. Blame it on the lack of sleep or the heightened emotions, you spilled your emotions and confessed everything to him. His presence felt nostalgic and comfortable, it felt like the old days. After crying to him for sometime, Cedric offered to keep you company for the day.

He showed you around the greenhouse, pointing out which ones he planted and all his favorites. You then took him to the Great Lake where you walked around for an hour and shared what you had missed from each other’s lives. It was exactly what you needed to feel a little better for a while. You guys ended your trip down memory lane, and survey of the grounds, in the Great Hall, Cedric’s original destination. He invited you to sit with him and, not wanting to sit alone, you kindly tagged along. Since then, the two of you hadn’t left your spot at the Hufflepuff table. When Cedric saw your friends walking in, he decided to do you a favor and scoot a little closer, purposely making Fred twitch from the opposite side of the room.

Scoffing heavily, Fred lifted his eyebrow and motioned to Cedric and yourself.

“When the bloody hell have they ever sat together- I mean look at how fucking close they are! He’s basically on top of her… I should go see if she’s okay-” Pushing himself up from the table, a quick hand grasped at his side, snagging him back down with a thump. “No, Fred. Just let her be, she had a rough night.” The snarky cut sounded from Hermione. The curly haired girl gave a sneer to Fred, irritated soaking through her words.

“What happened? I never even saw her come in last night.”

“And why’s that?” Hermione asked, head cocked to the side, daring Fred to reply. But when he didn’t say anything, she huffed and continued, “She went to bed right after she got in- uh, I think she said something about an essay or exam. Can’t remember.”

An awkward silence took over, no one else wanting to speak up. George was scrapping around his lunch, taking small bites as he waited for someone to change the topic. Fred glared once more over to you then begrudgingly stated,

“Guess I’ll just have to ask her about it at practice tomorrow. She seems occupied.” The green-eyed monster had fully awakened in Fred. He contemplated strutting right over and yanking you away from Cedric. His blood boiled, envy tainting his circulation. A small part of Fred was beginning to believe you had feelings for him as well- well that was until now. Now, he knew you didn’t and it ripped his heart in two.

Sucking in his cheeks, Fred’s teeth toyed and bit at the skin. His knuckles remained clenched and his eyes cold.

A new group of students made their way into the Great hall, with them, Angelina Johnson.

“Hey Fred.” Angelina was smiling, a sickeningly sweet smile that made the skin under her eyes crinkle. Hermione noticed the unfamiliar tint of peach kissing her lips. She rolled her eyes, annoyance growing at Angelina putting in the extra effort to look nice for Fred. She never wore makeup, and Hermione had to resist the urge to throw her glass of water on the girl’s face. Although younger than you, Hermione was extremely protective of you as you were with her. She was your closest girlfriend and Hermione was not about to let Angelina stomp all over you.

Fred Weasley broke his gaze from you to turn to Angelina. A fake smirk hit his face as he greeted her.

“Angelina, hi.” Ron and Harry listened in, trying to act like they weren’t paying attention. They weren’t huge on drama like this- it was a lose lose for Ron to get involved seeing as Fred was his older brother. Harry preferred to remain in his own conflict- Merlin knows he had a laundry list of those.

The older Gryffindor girl had her hand in her hair, fingers twisting a strand absentmindedly. Instead of dressing down for the sluggish Sunday, Angelina had on a tight red and black plaid skirt, and a tight, slightly unbuttoned white long sleeve.

“I was wondering, you wanna go back to the common room with me? Thought we could hangout for a while.” Leaning to her hip, a seductive gleam twinkled in her eyes. Ron could feel the gag creeping up his throat. Everyone, even Fred, had to hold back from scoffing at the girl. Right as Fred went to decline her proposal, his eyes drew over to you. The resentment and fury hit his bloodstream again when he saw Cedric leaning in so close that his lips were almost brushing your cheeks. He narrowed in on you moving towards his touch, the laughter that cascaded from your lips at his whispers. Out of spite, Fred grinned up at Angelina and nodded his head.

“Sure,” Fred propped his hands on either side of the table, lifting himself up, “I’ll see you guys later.” He commented before taking off with Angelina out of the Great Hall. George pushed the food around on his plate, trying to think of a way to make things right. He hated having his two best friends in a standoff, one that his dim twin seemed to not even understand. Looking up, George saw your eyes watching Fred and Angelina leaving the hall, hand-in-hand.

Cedric reached out for your hand, giving it a tight squeeze in an attempt to distract you. His hands were warm in your cold grip and the comfort was slim. If it were Fred’s hands in your own, maybe it would feel different. Resting your head on the wooden table, Cedric could barely make out your sorrowful mumble.

“See, I told you. He’s not interested.”

The kind Hufflepuff shook his head, the sandy brown locks in his hair swinging as he did. To him, it was obvious. Maybe it was a guy thing, but Cedric could feel the heat fuming off Fred from the other side of his room. It was obvious to him that seeing you and Cedric so close together, got under his skin.

Setting his fork down, Cedric wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to his side.

“Y/n, darling, that is the exact opposite as not interested- he’s only leaving with her because he got jealous that you’re with me! You can’t tell me all that glaring and pouting and red face was because he’s ‘not interested’ in you.” You sat stunned at his words, not having a comeback ready at all. He made a valid point- one that infected your thoughts. Was Fred actually upset that you were with Cedric? No, you declared, he had Angelina, why would he care about who you were with. An answer for Cedric still hadn’t come so you shrugged to him, and started digging into the food on your plate.

A hearty, childlike, chuckle eliminated from Cedric as he gave you one last side hug,

“See, I told you.” He mocked teasingly. You glared at him playfully then glanced over at the Gryffindor table. George Weasley had already turned towards you, silently pleading for you to come over. You mentioned to the east entrance of the dinning hall, signaling for him to meet you there. Excusing yourself politely from Cedric, you promised to return later in the evening, telling him you needed to take care of some business. He of course sweetly obliged, waving to you as you left his table, then joined up with his friends.

George jogged off after you, quickly meeting you outside of the hall. Before you could say hello, he was already diving in.

“You’re mad, woman. Absolutely mad! Do you see how angry Fred was? Cause I was sitting at him and he was incensed! I swear- he was about to leap over there and fight Cedric!” George’s hollar rang to the tippy top of the Astronomy tower. Passerbys leered nosily, wanting a taste of the gossip. Shoving George lightly, you started walking towards the Gryffindor side of the castle with him on your tail.

“Doesn’t matter- he’s with Angelina.” You stated. As much as you wanted the conversation to vanish, George wasn’t about to let you go that easy. Following by your side, an ear shattering laugh came from George.

“Y/n, he only went to hangout with her because he was livid about you and Cedric!”

The traffic in the hall was overwhelming. For a Sunday, there sure were a lot of students roaming the halls. The younger students basically ogled over the two of you as you passed by. First and second year Gryffindors always thought of the Weasley twins and gods for their notorious pranks, and by association, you as well. A group of first year Gryffindor students were crowded around the Cobblestone Courtyard, trying to sneak points and stares at you two. George and you waved over to the boys, their eyes widening at your gestures, but returning a shaky wave back nonetheless. You both continued walking, trying to keep the conversation as light as possible. “Whatever, George.” Crossing your arms over your chest, you sent him a pointed look, stopping dead in your tracks. Turning to a softer tone you asked, “Would you do me a small favor?”

His eyes squinting, George flattened his lips into a thin line.

“What kind of a favor?”

“Just come to McGonagall’s office with me and I’ll explain on the way.” You insisted. Having nothing better to do and wanting to probe your brain for a bit longer, George agreed. However when you made it to the tower of the teacher's offices, he started to regret coming along. The two of you climbed your way up to the fourth floor, and George’s mouth went dry to the bone when you started knocking on the door of Professor McGonagall. Dots started to connect and before George had the chance to stop you, McGonagall’s door creaked open and the beloved Professor

“Miss. Y/l/n, Mr. Weasley, what can I do for the two of you? You didn’t explode a laboratory again, did you?” The tiredness in her voice was noticeably as she prepared herself to deal with the consequences of your reckless pranks. Instead, you reassured her by shaking your head.

“No, Professor, not this time. I was wondering if I could speak to you about leaving the Quidditch team?”

“What?” Both McGonagall and George asked in unison. The seriousness in your gaze answered their questions. McGonagall gave you a bewildered look, not expecting your request in the slightest. George couldn’t move. His feet were cemented to the floor- not giving a single budge. Ever since you were age qualified for tryouts, Fred, George, and you had been on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Your third year you were all starters and it hasn't changed since. Everyone could agree, even your opponents, that you were the top chaser in the school, next to a seventh year Ravenclaw boy. You were faster than most, strategic, quick on your feet, and were an excellent flyer.

George went to pull for your hand, destined to make you rethink. But you moved your hand away before your skin touched. He couldn’t think of the words to yell at you to stop, for once in his life. McGonagall flicked her eyes between you two, then stepped to the side, opening her office door.

“Come in, dear- both of you, come in.”

On Monday evening, the Gryffindor Quidditch team was pooled together on the pitch making conversation before practice started. Angelina Johnson stood a few feet from, giggling and whispering with Alicia and Katie. The girls would glance over to the twins every few seconds, then giggle turning back to each other. As time passed on, Fred found it quite annoying. He wasn’t dating Angelina although he wondered if that was clear to her. For the last week and a half, the pair had been sneaking around the castle, snogging in dark corridors, flirting during practice, getting handsy during class and sitting awfully close to one another in the common room. To Fred, he was just having fun and if he was being honest, it was getting a bit boring but he felt that Angelina deserved a chance.

When he found the heartfelt letter on his bed, he felt he owed it to Angelina to at least give it a try. The way she poured her heart to him on paper- it made him feel special, cared about. Fred couldn’t say with one hundred present confidence that the writer was Angelina, but Lee Jordan was certain it was her.  

Although he had been devoting most of his time to hanging out with Angelina and trying to sort out if he had any feelings, Fred noticed a change in you. After that night in the common room, seeing you became a rare occurrence. No longer did Fred walk you to and from class, Cedric did now, and sometimes George. Fred almost had a heart attack the first time he spotted you walking through the corridors with Cedric Diggory close to your hip. That was four days ago and since then, the two of you still hadn’t really spoken.

Fred kicked at the grass and sand surrounding his feet. He didn’t have the motivation nor the energy to flirt with Angelina when his mind was stuck on you. He hated the jealousy that took over when he saw you with Cedric, but he couldn’t shake the image. The sound of his younger brother shouting brought Fred back to reality. George had been standing by his side, but he had been far too quite as well. It made Fred feel like he was going crazy- like he was left out on whatever had been consuming George and yourself. He was distressed over the situation, but Ron’s screeching was too distracting to come up with any solutions. Fred peeked over to his brother as Ron demanded,

“Where’s Y/n? She’s our top Chaser- where the bloody hell is she?” Ron was frantically scanning the pitch for you. Walking up from behind the group, Oliver Wood announced his arrival with an annoyed, and irritated voice.

“McGonagall let me know this morning that y/l/n will not be joining us for the rest of the year. Guess she was falling behind in classes and McGonagall and she felt it was best to quit the team… I don’t agree, but I can’t do anything.” He clutched his broom in his left hand, nearly snapping the wood in half. Everyone crowded around could feel the anger radiating off Oliver. His lips were pressed in a stern line, and his body was stiff as a board. The rest of the team shifted under his heated glare. Oliver had a way of killing with his eyes and the baffled Gryffindor players could sense it was going to be one long practice.

Giving the team one last overlook, Oliver pivoted on his back foot and stomped off. The rest of the group exchanged quizential gleams, separate groups of chatter running amuck.

Fred could hear Alicia and Angelina talking about you. You were the third party to their line of Chasers- they had no idea what to do without you on the team anymore.

“What? She never told me that.” Angelina Johnson crossed her arms in thought, puzzled by the entire announcement. If you were behind in classes, why hadn’t you told her? Leaning her weight on her hip, Angelina looked over the twins. She knew the three of you were best friends, so she assumed they’d have answers. Fred was already looking over to her, only for some sort of answers as to why you quit. Burrowing her eyebrows, she sent him a question leer. She was just as left in the dark as he. Suddenly, a light bulb flicked in a flare. Fred turned to his twin, who was far too quiet, meaning he already knew.

“Y/n tell you she was quitting?” It was more a demand than a question, but Fred still wanted to hear George admit it. Awkwardly, George scratched at the skin of his neck. It was such an uncomfortable situation for him to be stuck in the middle of, but he loved both of you and it hurt him to see you hurt. George shrugged, switching his broom between his hands.

“Yeah, I went with her to go talk to McGonagall, I told her not to but y’know how stubborn she is. Had her mind set.” He confessed. George kept checking for their captain, for the first time he was eager for practice to begin. He didn’t care if Oliver was going to take his frustrations of you leaving the team out on them- he just wanted the conversation between himself and Fred to be over. Flying 100 laps around the pitch in one cycle was much more appealing than standing there any longer. Although his twin wasn’t about to let him slide that easy. Taking a step forward Fred seethed,

“Wait, she asked you to come with her? She didn’t even tell me anything about leaving the team. Also didn’t say anything about Diggory...” His tone was a mix of shock and jealousy. The envy dripping from his words was harsh. The white bones of his knuckles peaked out from beneath his skin as his fists clenched at his sides. This caught George’s attention but not in a positive light.

It made him tick in an unfamiliar way. To George, even though Fred was his twin, he didn’t have the right to be upset with him for being your shoulder. Yes, Fred didn’t know what exactly was going on, but he knew something was up. He had to have some sort of inkling and it irritated George that Fred was mad at him.

Scoffing deeply, George threw it right back at him,

“Not like you’ve even been around that much lately. Seems like you’ve been a bit,” His eyes shot over to one particular Chaser, then again to his twin. “Busy. Didn’t tell her about that one either, I assume.” Cold were his words and his face twisted in a scowl. Eyes wide as the moon, Fred gestured to the girl standing next to her friends.

“Angelina?” He asked in surprise. As dumbfounded as his brother seemed, George’s annoyance only extended at an alarming rate. Oliver rented the pitch and was trudging over to the group. Shaking his orange locks George scrunched his nose.

“I mean, did you tell Y/n about whatever the hell this is going on between Angelina and you. Don’t be surprised if she doesn’t tell you shit when you don’t tell her either.” He spat jarringly. The tension was boiling between the two of them and Fred was lost as to why. Stepping away, he lifted his hands in defense. “Woah, where did the attitude come from? I don’t even know what I did, George. It’s not like Y/n will even glance in my direction lately. Help me out.”

Fred was completely disconcerted, pleading to his brother with his eyes to give him some guidance. It was unlike George to keep things from his twin, and Fred needed to get to the bottom of it. Why would you confide in George? To Fred, the two of you were always a bit closer than George and yourself. There were different boundaries, different normalities between you and each twin. A weird conjunction of irk and bitterness brewed inside him. “For some reason, I don’t believe that. You know, Fred, Angelina didn’t write that letter.” His words struck Fred like a bus. Nearly giving himself whiplash, Fred snapped his sharp eyes to George as his mouth parted open. George’s focus remained on their captain who was nearing. The matter-of-fact tone to his voice had Fred even more confused. Grabbing his brother by the shoulder to force his attention, Fred gasped.

“What-” An abrupt hollar from the Gryffindor captain rang out causing the team to quiet down and look over to Oliver. With a gruff expression, Wood wasted no time diving into instructions.

“Okay everyone, gather ‘round. First piece of business, Katie, you’ll be taking over for Y/n, second piece of business…”

Fred drowned out the sound of Oliver moaning on as his mind raced to the letter. His brain repeated the sweet words over and over again. There was an extremely slim pool of people who could know all those things about him, and some of it, Fred was almost positive Angelina didn’t know. Yes, he met her his first year, but Angelina didn’t know Fred was afraid of the dark. She had no idea he hated socks. That was something he shared with you over winter break when the harsh winter forced him to wear the constricting material on his feet. Didn’t know about the scar on his knee he got last summer when Fred, George and yourself went exploring in the woods and he fell into a hunting trap. You knew all these things- but if you were the true author, Fred was almost certain you would’ve said something by now… right? That’s what made the whole situation so frustrating to him. He thought about asking Angelina, getting a straight forward response but if she did say no, what was he supposed to do. If Angelina didn’t write the letter, then who did? Did the prank king himself fall for a prank? Fred’s judgement remained clouded for the rest of the practice, despite how hard Oliver pushed them. He needed to find you and at least figure out why you had been avoiding him.

While your former teammates were hard at work on the pitch, you were sat in the courtyard with Cedric. The two of you were propped up on the brick wall, sitting half inside the corridor and half outside. Students walked past as dinner was nearing, mummering about the two of you while walking by. Those who were unaware of your history gossiped about a possible relationship. A relationship was the last thing either of you wanted for each other.

Cedric was busy telling you a story about a holiday him and his father took to Greece the year before, a country you had been dying to visit. You were invested in his story about traveling to see authentic Greek God statues when the figure of a familiar boy came into view from the corner of your eye. Behind Cedric was Fred Weasley running up to every student in his perimeter, saying something to them, then running off to the next one. He reached a Slytherin girl, asked her something, then much to your surprise, she turned around and pointed at you. Fred followed her finger until his eyes found yours. Rushing over, Fred thought you were alone until he was a foot away and the shoulder of Cedric could be seen poking out behind the pillar.

Fred stopped next to Cedric, trying his best to appear intimidating, which would’ve caused you to giggle recklessly if the situation were different.

“Y/n… Cedric. Fancy running into the two of you.”

“Hey Fred.” The confidence in Cedric’s voice almost made you laugh. He was toying with Fred because he knew he could. You didn’t have an attraction towards Cedric, and he saw you as a great friend. Fred didn’t need to know this all yet.

Now that Fred was face-to-face with Cedric, you could see that your friend was correct about noticing the jealousy. Fred snarled at the Hufflepuff, a scowl painting his face. Once he looked over to you, his features softened. Biting your lip you echoed,

“Hi.” Fred was pleased with your response, even if it was minimal, at least you were willing to acknowledge him now. That was a step.

Reaching for your hand, Fred laced his rough fingers around your own. It was a familiar feeling you had been missing for over a week. Having his attention on you was something you missed- just having him around was something you missed.

Cedric coughed awkwardly, awaiting Fred’s move. The Gryffindor glared over again then took a deep breath, resisting the ticking urge to shove the boy away from your vicinity.

“Y/n, uh, can we talk?” He paused for a moment, “Without dear Cedric around.”

“Sure. I’ll see you around, Ced.” You leaned up to hug your friend, then watched as he walked away, smirking to himself.

“Ced?” Fred muttered under his breath, earning a small frown from you. “Sorry…”

Scratching at his arm, Fred tried to figure out where to begin. There were so many questions- so many. It was impossible to declare the perfect place to start. Realizing he wasn’t going to speak first, you broke the ice.

“You just want to talk here?” The corridor was empty, expect a Ravenclaw couple stealing a nap before curfew. A pair of students would walk by every so often, but they never strayed from their path.

“Uh, I suppose. I mean you haven’t really been talking to me at all for a week, so I’ll have a conversation wherever I can get one.” Fred chuckled uncomfortably, the lack of humor on your face building tension. You were staring out at the bare courtyard, viewing the scenery of flowers and greenery. Tall trees whooshed in the wind, leaves tumbling to the green grass gracefully. Branches swung against each other, the noise helping to create a distraction.

Slipping his thumb under your chin, Fred lifted your head locking his eyes on yours. You finally peered back at him, and the look in his eyes almost made your heart crumble. A slight glossy, sadness glazed his typically wild, gleaming, happy orbs. His hand tightened on your face, although not enough to hurt.

“Y/n why won’t you even look at me, love? You’re obsessed with Quidditch almost as much as Oliver and you just upped and quit. Don’t even try the excuse of ‘falling behind in school’, we both know that’s a bold lie. You’re the brightest witch in the castle. Look at me please, love.” He pleaded. A sudden rush of irritation surged through you, irked at his words. Pushing him back, you tried to rid yourself of the boy. Stubborn as he was, Fred didn’t move a muscle.

“Stop. Stop it. You can’t say that.” Sternly you scolded him. Fred ran his free hand across his face, his frustration getting the best of him.

“I can’t say what, darling?”

Finding the strength to push him away, you glowered intensely, “You can’t call me love, and you certainly can’t call me darling. You have Angelina for that.” The last part was thrown in more to jab at Fred, wanting to make him feel even an ounce of the pain you were experiencing. It was exactly the most adult choice, but who could blame you. It’s like they say; hurt people, hurt people.

Despite the coldness of your presence, Fred wasn’t backing off. Tugging at your wrist, he pulled your attention in again. His hands were gentle yet his features were sharp.

“So, what? Can only Cedric call you that? Cause just a week ago you were fine with it- loving it actually. This has nothing to do with Angelina-” The vein in his forehead was popping out from all the emotions Fred was draining at once. The last time you saw that sort of a reaction was when Fred nearly murdered his brother Percy for delivering him personally to Snape for exploring the castle after hours. It was quite an interesting Christmas break after that stunt. Fred attempted manslaughter roughly five times during that month off.

You heard his words but all you could see was red. You couldn’t stand to hear him say her name, it made the hairs on the back of your neck rise at the thought of Fred with Angelina. A week’s worth of heartbreak, anger, and hurt exploded without warning as you leaned close to Fred and shouted feverishly,

“This has everything to do with Angelina, Fred!” The anger boiled into a scream as you shoved your finger into his chest, poking him harshly, “You were supposed to be my best friend- her too- and you never told me. You led me on, you made me think you actually had feelings for me, that I had a chance, then you went and got with my roommate, and didn’t say a word to me! You just want me to pretend everything is fine and dandy but it isn’t! You hurt me- her too, but you more than anyone. I’ve been friends with both of you since first year- I’ve been in love with you since first year- and you never even said a thing, you coward! I fucking left clues in neon signs in that letter and you still ignored them. You could’ve just told me, Fred. I can’t even look at either of you the same now. Why didn’t you tell me?” The tears were pouring like a broken faucet at this point. Salt kissed the corner of your mouth then splashed onto the stone floor. Your head fell, allowing the cries to smack right to the ground. A black shoe came into view as it stepped towards you. Refusing to look up, you silently begged for Fred to do something- anything. Soon enough, his large hand clasped around your shoulder, yanking you tightly into his chest. His arms encapsulated you into a hold, hugging you like he never had before. Instead of fighting him off, you felt your body sinking into his arms as the sobs continued. Fred’s hand reached to your head, petting at your hair in a soothing manner.

Pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, Fred lingered his lips against your skin. This was something he had down a million times but with the circumstances, it felt different this time, more genuine.

“You wrote those letters?” Fred uttered faintly. All the stars were aligning in his mind as the confession coated the air. He wanted to kick himself endlessly for putting a blindside up to all the flags. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine you, his best friend, would share the love he felt for you. He started to think back on all your little antics in a different light. How you’d hug him first after every Quidditch match- win or lose. How you’d hold only his hand when you walked to class and never George’s. How you’d braid his hair in the common room on the weekends and spend all night spilling your secrets to him. How whenever there was a party, you stayed close to his side clutching his hand, not that Fred ever let you wander far. It caused his heart to skip a beat as he fixed all the pieces together into a neat puzzle.

“Of course I fucking wrote the letters, Fred! Who else could’ve known all that, hm? I’m sure you ruled George out right away so that only leaves one of us. You didn’t want it to be me- you wanted it to be her.” Your voice cracked at the admission, turning away from Fred while the tears took control. You wanted to run off so bad, to go cry in a corner and never face anyone again. Wiping your eyes, Fred snatched your mascara smudged hand and frantically exclaimed,

“No, that’s not true! I wanted it to be you, I wanted it to be you so bad Y/n, but it was just too good to be true. When I found them on my bed, Lee said Angelina was standing outside our room right before he came up so I… I guess it was just… I don’t know. I didn’t want to risk it, I was just scared if it really was you.” Your eyes rolled in disbelief, was he really driving the dagger in even more? Was it really necessary? The message was received loud and clear as you sneered up at him.

“I get it, Fred, okay? I fucking get it so you don’t have to spell it out for me. You’re with Angelina and I’m just your friend-” For the first time in the long years of your friendship, Fred Weasley snapped at you. Never had you heard his scary, angry voice directed at you, but this time, you were the only one around to be on the receiving end.

“Will you just shut up! I’m not with Angelina- I had a thing with her but I could never be with her, Y/n. She’s just… just-ugh! She’s just not you and it’s infuriating. And if I see you in Diggory’s arms one more time, I think I’m gonna explode.” He finished, out of breath and huffing. His hand around yours had gripped harder, your fingers nearly numb. This was the least of your concerns. All you could comprehend was the rapid words of the boy in front of you.

A triumphant sensation hit your stomach. It made you a little happy to know Fred was envious of Cedric. He had no reason to be, but it still made you smirk a tiny bit. Shrugging half heartedly you mumbled,

“Now you know how I feel…”

Fred’s head shot up at this. Confusion written all over his face he questioned,

“Wait, you’re not with Cedric?”

“No, Fred! He’s my friend- unlike you and Angelina, I don’t snog Cedric.” Dragging your words out, you sent a knowing flare at Fred. He didn’t deny it though, which was what you wanted. If anything was going to happen between the two of you, you needed to be entirely honest and Fred was ready for that. Lifting your hand to his face, you opened your grasp fully, allowing it to rest against the warmth of his cheek.

“It was only once, darling. Just to see if something was there and… well, don’t tell Angelina, but it was bloody terrible. I was expecting it to be like that time we uh, ‘accidently’ kissed last year. Don’t know if you remember it but I certainly do. But um, yeah it was nothing like that. I remember when I kissed you, it felt like that feeling of comfort that I get whenever I step inside The Burrow. And with Angelina, it was more so empty. With you, I had fucking butterflies for weeks! After I kissed Angelina- I vowed I wouldn’t do it again. I never want to kiss any girl who isn’t you, I mean that, Y/n. I’ve had a crush on you since George and I sat next to you on the train to Hogwarts. I’ve been in love with you since we got off that train our first year, and I haven’t stopped since.”

“I remember everything about that day, you were my first kiss after all.” A smile graced your lips at the memory. You had joined the Weasley’s for the last month of summer break, only months ago. Fred, George, and yourself were up late one night in their room gossiping about the new drama you had missed while apart. You laid on your stomach on Fred’s bed, and George on his. Fred sat cross legged beside you, his arm lying on your back. After a few hours, Ginny knocked to inform you she was heading to bed. Taking a risky gamble, Fred begged Molly to let you sleep in their room on a makeshift cot. It took him a little over three weeks to get a yes from her- but with the limitation that the door stay open no matter the hour.

Ginny would stop in every night to wish you a good sleep. Although small in retrospect, this was a big reason Fred fell even more in love with you, the way his little sister looked up at you as if you were the most beautiful creature to ever lay foot on this earth- not that Fred would deny this. He agreed fully, but it made him happier than ever to know that his family loved you and consider you an honorary Weasley. He hoped one day he’d be able to make you an official Weasley, but that would come further down the road.

George crashed around three and Fred and yourself decided to lay in his bed for a few more hours before hitting the hay. You knew you’d have to sneak back to your cot before sunrise or Molly would execute Fred- not you of course, just Fred. She never found you guilty for any of their disastrous plans.

After an hour or so, you were laying next to Fred, staring up at the ceiling as he explained to you all the reasons on how he was superior to George in Quidditch, a conversation that he would only win when George was passed out. For some reason, this led to Fred rambling on about the first time he saw you flying, how he knew you would be an exquisite flyer. Maybe it was because of the kind compliments and the admiration it created inside of you but you placed a soft kiss to the corner of Fred’s lip mid sentence as he gushed about your Quidditch skills. 

As you pulled away, Fred pulled you forward again, this time initiating the kiss himself and smacking his lips entirely on yours. Although it was your first kiss, you caught on quick. Fred moved to hover over you which caused your kiss to break and reality to set in. You both went as white as a ghost, frozen in place. Fred just stayed on top of you, unsure of what to do next. His heart urged him to kiss you again but the look of shock on your face made him doubt this idea. After an awkward minute of this, you slowly slid out from under him and sprinted to the makeshift bed, hiding under the covers until morning. It was embarrassing to say the least but neither of you mentioned it since. You went back to normal the next day, pretending the kiss was a figment of your imaginations. But it was as real as your feelings and it happened. You pondered now if you had kissed him again back on that night, maybe you would’ve been together sooner.

Pulling you back into the moment, Fred peeled your hand from his face and scattered a line of kisses to your knuckles,

“If you’d let me, I’d like to be your last.”

“What exactly are you asking me, Freddie?” You smiled, a sugary confection grin, like the world was finally turning in your favor. A gleeful grin took over Fred at the nickname your gifted him. Leaving a chaste peck to the back of your hand, Fred leaned into your touch. “I’ve missed that so much, love. You’re the only one besides mum and George that can call me Freddie. But,” Eyes meeting your, you could feel your heart melting under his gaze. “I want to ask you if you’d be my girlfriend?” If you weren’t standing so close, his whispered words would’ve gone unheard. Luckily for the both of you, they fully registered in your head and heart. Pinching at the skin of your arm, you reassured yourself this was in fact real and not a dream. Fred really was standing in front of you confessing everything you had been dying to hear since your first year. You figured you must have been staring for far too long as a look of fear flashed across Fred’s face.

“Freddie, of course I’ll be your girlfriend!”

“Merlin’s beard- you had me scared, darling.” He hugged you close to his chest, the rhythmic beat of his heart pounding against your ears. You could hear the nerves in his voice causing you to giggle against him.

“Did you really think I was going to say no?”

“I mean I have been a down right git these last few days so, can you blame me for being worried?” He pulled away to glance down at you with a funny expression. Scrunching your nose as if deep in thought, you shook your head.

“Nope.”

Skimming his thumb across your cheek again, Fred took a different approach this time. His body leaned in slowly to yours, stopping just before connecting to brush his lips against yours. The tips of your noses touched, making you laugh at the tickle. He took his time admiring every detail of your face so up close and personal. His eyes surveyed the miniscule dark spots kissing your s/c skin, the paint strokes of e/c in your eyes, the indented dimples in your cheeks and all the beautiful little details that crafted you.

Drawing in, Fred closed the inch of a gap by pressing his pursed lips against your own. Your knees gave out almost immediately at the intense passion and spark soaring through you. As if expecting you to stumble, Fred’s free arm was wrapped securely around your waist, supporting your body to a stand. Snaking your hands around his face, you mimicked his movements by enticing him in with your lips and kissing him deeply. You moved your hand down to his tie, gripping the satin material in your hand then whipped it towards yourself. Fred crashed further into your lips, a groan of pleasure emmitnating. His hand trailed from your waist to your hair, returning the action by tugging at your hair.

You gasped at the sensation, giving Fred the perfect window of opportunity to take the lead. The warmth, and wetness of his tongue slipped around your lip, then entered your mouth. You fought with him wanting to dominate the kiss but Fred was far too skilled.

His tongue danced with yours before flicking across your lips in a teasing manner. You giggled into his lips, a smile rising to Fred’s lips. Detaching himself from your embrace, Fred pulled back, then kissed your cheek. His hands found their previous position around your face. As he held your face in his hands, he leaned down to rest your foreheads against one another. Like a child whose mother just purchased him a puppy, Fred abruptly gushed,

“I can finally call you mine now, isn’t that wicked! Like… you’re my girlfriend now! Bloody hell, this is amazing. I should’ve asked you out years ago!” He chuckled giddly, squeezing your cheeks lightly in his hands. You pulled away, smacking his hands playfully.

“Tell me about it. Would’ve made this a whole lot easier.”

“Ah c’mon, love. Nothing worth it ever comes easy, right?” Fred smiled down at you, intertwining his large hand in yours. You peeked at the interlock, a grin rising to your face. Despite the annoyance of how long it took him, you couldn’t be happier now that he was truly yours. He was right, the wait was finally worth it. For once, your life was aligning with the script of a Hollywood film and it had never felt better.

Gripping Fred’s hand loving you tilted your head up at him,

“Is that your excuse for taking, what… six years?” His cheeks went red at this and he attempted to cover his face in embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, darling! Oh wait- am I allowed to call you that, or is it still reserved for Diggory?” Wiggling his eyebrows at you Fred broke into a fit of chuckles. You hit his side, causing him to step back, though the laughter roared louder. Narrowing your eyes, you feigned anger as you spun on your heel and started to walk in the opposite direction, away from Fred.

“Shut up, Freddie! You want me to break-up with you already?” Fred knew you were joking, but he was a sucker for games. It didn’t take him long to catch up to you- his long strides were no match to your average ones. Wrapping his arms around your body from the back, Fred pressed his lips to the shell of your ear, blowing a rush of air in causing you to leap in surprise. 

“Oh, stop it, love! Don’t start with that, let’s at least make it a full day before any talks of breaking up.” Fred placed a ‘boop’ to your nose, then rejoined you at your side as you walked together to the dorm room. The other students had emptied from the halls. Passing by the large clock, you realized you were minutes from curfew. Pointing at the time, you motioned over to Fred. He swiveled his head to read the clock, a wild smirk marking his face. Speeding up the pace, the two of you were jogging to the common room, neither of you wanting to end up in detention. Just as you reached the fourth floor, a silvery and translucent figure swept across the opening of the corridor. You yelp in freight at the unexpected jump scare of a Hogwarts ghost. The Bloody Baron snapped his head at you with a nasty scowl. A silver, heavy chain hung around his neck, a punishment for his crime of murder. Although ghosts of Hogwarts weren’t ghoulish or frightening, The Bloody Baron had never been your favorite. Despite deceased, the throw of his glare felt real and caused your skin to crawl in fear.

Fred interjected, greeting The Bloody Baron kindly and apologizing for your reaction. The ghosts at Hogwarts were rather sensitive to their state. Besides, he always had a softer side for the twins. The Bloody Baron and Peeves were connected in a way so the Weasley twins always got a pass.

The ghost gravitated to the side of the entrance, allowing an opening for you to pass. You thanked him, apologizing for your previous reaction as you stepped past. As you made it out of his earshot, a stream of laughter poured from Fred. Tears pricked his eyes as he chuckled endlessly. You glared at him, warning him with just one look to keep quiet. Fred threw his arm around you, pulling you into his side. He leaned down to place a lingering kiss to your lips before chuckling again,

“C’mon, darling. I’ll protect you from all the ghosts.”

[sweeethinny]

Christmas Magic (M)

I wanted to do something for @fightfortherightsofhouseelves #hinnychristmasfest, and as a few days ago someone asked me about how I thought hinny's first time had happened, here it is :) thanks to Dusk who read that one shot yesterday, and the whole group of Hinny at Discord who advised me, helped me with my 8643846353 doubts. And thanks to Google, who explained many things to me so that I could make this as close to reality as possible.

AO3

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Warning: This chapter contains sex, and description of sex

‘’Hermione, I’m sorry, but that doesn’t look like sex.’’ Ginny said, rolling her eyes at the book in front of her. The anatomy of a woman and a man was well exposed on the page, each little part being explained as to why it served, and some even explained how.

‘’And what do you know? You are the one who came to ask me about it.’’ The friend took the book from Gin’s lap. ‘’What else did you expect it to be?’’ Hermione looked at her, and Ginny really wanted to tell her that she hoped it was less… biological, and more real and emotional. She didn't feel all that logical and scientific explanation when Harry touched her last week, not even when she touched him. It was far more chaotic than the book made it appear to be.

The author did not explain that you would feel in the clouds, and that your legs would become so limp that you would think that there were no bones in your body.

But maybe that would change when it came to sex.

‘’I don’t know, but it looks disgusting.’’ She frowned at the drawings in front of her.

‘’Well… I don’t know if there’s any other way to look.’’ Hermione said, shrugging her shoulders and closing the book, starting to look for another one in her huge pile.

‘’Hermione, but don’t you think there are things you can’t explain? Things that don't appear in an anatomy book?’’ Ginny asked, hoping that it would explain to her friend that sex couldn’t be just that. That should be more than... insert and rub. If it were just that, if it meant nothing more, then what fun would it have?

‘’Nah. What wouldn't appear in the books?’’

‘’I don’t know,’’ She shrugged. ''Maybe it will change depending on how you feel about the person, or… I don't know.'' Ginny gave up, getting up from her own bed and walking around the room, a little worried that maybe she wouldn't have made the right decision if only that summed up what it was sex.

Of course, Hermione knew about a lot, and human relationships were always a problem for her, but it didn't seem to be just that. It seemed that really, sex was just… biological. After all.

‘’Ginny, you read... This can increase the bond between two people, but honestly, I don’t think it would change anything more than that. Maybe you've just based yourself on too many novels, and you're thinking this will be the same.'' Hermione spoke quietly, almost as if she wanted to apologize to Ginny that she was dreaming too much about that moment. ‘’Authors tend to glamorize more than necessary in novel books.’’

''Yeah, maybe that's it.'' She nodded, taking her coat and cap from the rack behind the door. ‘ I’m going for a walk.’’ Ginny said, still somewhat discredited that she had been deceived by all those authors.

''Take care. I'll stay here if you want to talk.’’ Hermione spoke before Ginny closed the door, a little angry for the last hour she spent for nothing.

She and Harry hadn't been having much time since he started studying for the Auror exams and she for the NIEM, and every minute mattered a lot, so missing an hour that they could have talked, kissed, or even for throwing snow at each other, it seemed like a lot.

And Ginny didn't even come to an ideal conclusion.

Since the war ended and they came back - not that they had really separated, Ginny always said that - their relationship had evolved in a hurry that she did not regret. They went from, kissing under the peach tree in the daylight, to kissing at night on the lake (where they wore little clothing), and then, to finally kiss in her bed, and touch each other.

They have learned a lot since then. Harry was always patient and very concerned that he was doing it right, and that Ginny was enjoying it, so he paid close attention to all her signs and her advice. He didn't care when she put her hand over hims to help him, or when she asked him to stop because she didn't like it so much anymore.

Ginny also listened to him, even though Harry almost never complained, she learned that he liked when she paid special attention to his balls, his nipples were very sensitive too, and that like her, speed and angle also mattered.

Everything was quite intense and chaotic inside her, it was always as if something exploded and fireworks cut across the sky every time Harry made her feel in a new way, each miserable discovery seemed too much.

It was she who introduced the subject of sex to them. After she returned to Hogwarts alone - not for Hermione - Ginny had plenty of time to think about it. So when they met on one of the Hogsmeade tours and were alone, Gin commented that she wanted to. It was a strange thing, although it seemed right to communicate him about her will, she thought that maybe she was doing something wrong given Harry's minute of silence.

‘’I’ve also been thinking about it, but I didn’t want to be an idiot and make you feel pressured if I commented.’’ He said.

They talked then, she said that leaving aside the romance books where the couple had sex, she didn't know much. Nor did Harry, he said that Seamus used to take magazines to their dormitory, but that there was never a real explanation of what it was like to have sex. Which relieved Ginny, who was afraid to be the only stupid one there.

He said he was afraid it would hurt for her and that he didn't do it right, she said that they wouldn't easily do it right, but that they could learn together. And about the pain... she could handle it.

But if she was sincere, she wished there was a way to not hurt. It didn't seem so much fun if it hurt.

The two talked about their insecurities and fears, and it was interesting to be able to open up that way with Harry, made Ginny love him even more. And she couldn't even remember when he told about years with the Dursleys before Hogwarts, without wanting to cry again.

It was important to talk to him, she knew that.

The two decided they were going to get ready, Harry wanted her to be able to make the most of what he could provide, and Ginny wanted to not be so scared at the moment. 

First, she looked in magazines - muggles and magicians - but nothing seemed to really help her, because even though it was written that she didn't need to fear and that it was necessary to relax, they didn't teach how, and they made everything seem even more important and bigger than it already was. Ginny had to go to Hermione. She knew about everything, she had read all the books, she should have known about it.

But Ginny received that bucket of cold water. Hermione's books made her feel discouraged, the statistics and scientific data made Gin think that nothing was right, and that yes, maybe sex wasn't too much. Nothing more than a biological necessity.

What magazines made it seem like the most important moment, the books painted as just a matter of science.

Ginny was confused.

She wanted to have sex with Harry, while she was a little too discouraged, but she also didn't want to throw in the towel and give up when they had already gone so far. Perhaps there could be a middle ground? Something that would make people sleep with others besides carnal need?

So she went for her second option, even though she was reluctant.

She had another week of Christmas break before she had to go back, and maybe the two of them couldn't even get time together to be able to enjoy it decently, but she just needed to talk to someone. Maybe on Easter break when she got back, or during a trip to Hogsmeade, they could do it. Perhaps she was more prepared, then.

‘’Ginny!’’ Fleur said as soon as she opened the door and found her sister-in-law standing there, her cheeks flushed with the wind and looking more nervous than usual. ''It's all right? Come in!''

‘’Yes.’’ Ginny said, cursing herself for having to ask her for help. ‘‘Bill in?’’

‘’No, he left just now.. do you want to wait for him? It shouldn't take long--’’

'' --No, he better not be around.'' Her voice came out a little too hard, and Ginny forced herself to clear her throat and calm down, thinking that if it weren't for Fleur, she wouldn't have anyone else to talk to about it. - her mother was not an option. ‘’I came here… I came to ask you for help.’’

‘’Oh…’’ Fleur nodded, a little wary. ''Sure. Take off your coat, I'll make tea for us.'' She was being very polite, which Ginny thought was good, because if she had to deal with the same arrogance of Fleur from the past at a time like that, maybe she would just give up and tell Harry that they had better do it without even knowing how it worked.

She took off her coat, gloves, snow-soiled shoes and cap, then, following her brother's house, Ginny reached the kitchen. She didn't quite know how she was going to start talking or how she would feel when she said something so intimate to Fleur, but maybe there wasn't much theater to do and she just had to tell her the truth.

‘’What brings you here?’’ Fleur appeared, floating the cups, milk and sugar in front of her. ‘’Let's sit on the couch, it’s more comfortable there.’’ Ginny nodded and followed. ‘’I hope it’s ‘ze way you like it.’’

‘’Thank you, it’s great.’’ Ginny poured herself the milk and dropped the amount of sugar she liked, taking the hot liquid to see if maybe that would give her enough courage. ‘’Hm .. Fleur, I wanted to ask you something.’’ She started, taking a deep breath and not looking at her sister-in-law. ‘’But you can’t comment on Bill. Not even with my mother.’’

‘‘My mouth is a grave.’’ She signaled as if she had closed her mouth, blond eyebrows raised slightly as she stared. ‘’You’re worrying me a little bit.’’

‘’Harry and I were talking about… Er .. Sex, and I wanted to ask you for help with that.’’ Ginny felt her cheeks were on fire, it was as if the sun was in front of her, so great was the heat. ‘’I don’t know .. I don’t know how to do it, and I think you can help me with that.’’ She admitted, feeling a little more failed than she imagined.

‘’Oh… I can help you with ‘zat, of course.’’ Fleur cleared her throat, placing her cup on the coffee table and facing Ginny. ''What you want to know?''

‘’Everything.’’ Ginny also put down her cup. ‘’Hermione showed me some anatomy books, and I read some magazines, but .. it doesn’t seem very real.’’ Fleur nodded, seeming to think about it. She shifted a little uncomfortably on the sofa and ran a hand through her blond hair, as if searching for the right words.

‘’Ok .. Let’s start at ‘ze beginning; you want this? You know, sometimes we end up feeling pressured to do it, even if ‘ze guy doesn't say it. And sex is an important step, it’s a level of intimacy that you need to be sure of what you’re doing.’’

‘’Of course I do. I was the one who told him I wanted to.’’ Ginny said, confident enough to face Fleur back, not her and Bill's picture frame on their wedding day. ‘’Harry doesn’t pressure me.’’

‘’Good.’’ Fleur nodded. ''If you feel ‘zat way, you need to know ‘zat... ‘zat it can be awful ‘ze first time, because it's ‘ze first time, and that's okay, practice makes perfect.'' She blinked, and Ginny felt her own cheeks flush like fire again, but continued to stare at her sister-in-law. ‘’If ‘Arry .. does things for you first, you’ll be able to enjoy ‘zit more, without feeling so uncomfortable, you know? It's something new, your body is not used to it, so the more relaxed and comfortable ‘ze better. And .. live ‘zat moment, it can last minutes, or seconds, but it is an important experience, maybe even more for ‘Arry. You are new, a long time ago to gain skill and improve performance.''

‘’What if I don’t think anything is too much? And if it’s just… I don’t know, but if it’s boring?’’ She asked, curiosity and fear dueling in her chest.

‘’Ginny, if it were boring, you wouldn’t have ‘zat many siblings.’’ Fleur said, finding it funny even though Gin had made a face at the image. ‘’Sex has to be good for both of you, don’t be shy about asking ‘Arry to do something for you, or change, or even stop. If you want him to stop in the middle and have him stimulate you in another way, that's fine. If you want it to just stop, you can say it too. Sex is communication, you can't just stand there like a dead man.’' The two laughed, much to Ginny's surprise.

‘’Hermione thinks sex isn’t anything other than human need.’’ She commented, not wanting to gossip about her friend, just wanting to get it out of her mind. Fleur shrugged.

‘’It goes beyond that, but I think she will only know when to do it. It’s a different experience for each person, you know? If you want to know, on my first time, I was bored and hated doing that, I thought it was not for me. Afterwards, I just understood what I liked and what I wanted.’’ She smiled sweetly, in a way that Ginny wasn’t very used to seeing. Not that those looks were directed at her, because they were usually for Bill. ‘’You’ll see, just live in the moment and don’t put so much pressure on you two. It’s the first time, not the last.’’

 [...]

 Ginny and Fleur had talked for a while longer that day, and after Bill arrived and was suspicious as to why Ginny was there, she went back to the house. Fleur had convinced her to buy nice clothes for their date; ‘’Not ‘zat you have sex that day, but just to prevent it.’’

On the 24th, the day of their date, Ginny dressed up like never before.

She carefully braided her hair on the side, put on the most beautiful earrings she had (Aunt Muriel's earnings, a few years ago), put on makeup so that her pale face didn't resemble a skull so much, painted her lips an intense red, and she wore the lingerie she had bought - even if they did nothing, she wouldn’t play with fate and let Harry see her with colorless panties and a bra that couldn’t hold anything anymore - and the thick pantyhose that would keep her legs warm.

When it came time for the outfit, Ginny had to stand for a few minutes in front of the pile in her closet, wondering which of those sweaters best suited the skirt she had separated earlier. There were some she stole from Ron, the ones her mother stitch for Christmas, some from George... She didn't have a decent shirt.

She was never on a date itself, even those in Hogsmeade it didn't seem that important.

It was the first time the two of them were going out on their own, for a real date, and it was Christmas, she had to be presentable, even though Harry didn't care and made it clear that he thought she was beautiful even with her torn pajama pants. Ginny cared.

Searching deeper into her mess, she found a sweater that she didn't even remember existed, maybe she received it as a gift in the fourth year, from her parents, or ... she didn't remember, but it wasn't important. The sweater had no holes in it, nor did it look old, and none of her brothers had worn it before, which was perfect. Besides, the fabric was thick enough that Ginny wouldn't freeze to death outside.

After finishing putting on her boots, zipping up her navy blue skirt, and getting comfortable in her white sweater and turtleneck, Ginny was ready. Anxious as never before and looking every second at the slim watch on her wrist.

Harry had said he would drop by to pick her up at six and it was still half past five… Maybe Ginny was in a hurry. Maybe when he arrived, she would show that she was anxious.. Should she have put on that red lipstick?  Was it the best option to go out with a lipstick like that, when you intended to make out with your boyfriend? Maybe she was underdressed because Harry wanted to take her to a very fancy restaurant?

Ginny should look for a better outfit, she--

‘’Gin?’’ The voice startled her, causing her to drop the perfume bottle on top of the pile of clothes she had shifted to the right, and slowly turned to find Harry and her door, looking almost more distressed than she was. ‘’Everything okay?’’ He looked at the mess around her, a chuckle rising from his lips.

‘’Yes, yes.’’ She composed herself, smiling from ear to ear and walking towards him, looking much calmer now that he was there.

Harry was simple, new dark jeans, a gray sweater and his sneakers. He didn't seem to be going to a chic and elegant restaurant - which would use more than 7 cutlery and 3 different glasses -, which calmed her down and made her take a deep breath while hugging him tightly and breathing in his scent.

‘’I brought this for you.’’ He showed her the bouquet hidden behind his back, his right hand shaking slightly as he handed her the flowers. There were all kinds of flowers, jasmine, yellow roses, even blue flowers, and it was the most romantic and cute thing she had ever won. ‘’I didn’t know what your favorites were then, I just chose the most beautiful ones.’’

‘’Harry, it’s beautiful.’’ Ginny kissed him, not needing to stretch this time, thankful for the heels of her boot. ‘’You look beautiful too.’’ She whispered against his mouth, his arms around her waist and keeping their contact even closer.

''Thanks. You're not too bad either.’’ He raised an eyebrow, a wry little smile. ‘’The skirt is fully approved.’’

‘’As if I care what you think of my outfit.’’ Ginny lifted her chin, holding her laugh and placing the flowers in a vase she had conjured. ''We are ready?''

''Yes. I was happy not to run into your parents… it would be strange.’’ Harry made a cute face, wrinkling his nose and wrinkling his forehead. ‘’Your mom would have made a fuss about the flowers.’’

''Of course she would.'' Ginny put her arm around Harry's, letting him guide her through her own home. ‘’She gave me a speech yesterday about how you’ve been changing since you’ve been with me… Apparently everyone is talking about how happy you and I are.’’

‘’They talk too much. They should start worrying about their navels themselves.’’ The two donned their jackets, gloves and cloaks, ready to face the cold outside. ‘’But, I’ve been happier on your side than I have been in my past..16 years? I think.’’ Harry stopped to think, looking at the floor as if he was digging deeply. ‘’Yes, I’m happier than I’ve ever been.’’

‘’And you had to think about it?’’ Ginny pushed his shoulder slightly, already walking out of the house. ‘‘How come I’m not the first and last thought of your day?’’ Harry laughed, openly, in the way that made her laugh and feel her stomach churn.

‘’But you are.’’ He took her arm again, ready to Apparate wherever they were going. ''I was just kidding. I don't need to think too hard to know that I've never been as happy as I am with you.'' Harry said, looking at her as if that was the simplest thing to say, as if he didn't do things for her that Ginny never thought she would feel.

So they Apparated.

It was a place she had never been to. Well, she didn’t walk around London much, so it didn’t mean much, but in particular that place, she didn’t even know it existed.

There were lights, lots of lights, and it looked like it came out of a fairy tale book. She felt like a muggle when they witnessed magic. It was unbelievable that something like that existed.

''Where are we?’’ She couldn’t stop looking and maybe her neck would hurt if she stayed like that for several minutes, but it was totally worth it.

There were those boxes with teddy bears inside and something that Ginny didn't quite understand what it was, that were trying to grab the toy. On the other side, there were stalls with foods so fragrant that she could already feel her belly growling with hunger. And even though she looked at everything and Harry walked around calmly and also looked shocked by that place, it looked like they couldn't make it to the end or see everything.

‘’Hyde Park.’’ Harry was also looking everywhere, and even though the wind seemed to cut their cheeks, neither of them seemed to care. ''This is amazing.''

‘‘Yes.’’ Ginny’s eyes flashed with the big wheel that spun ahead. ‘’And we’re magicians.’’

[...]

 The two had enjoyed themselves at various attractions. They took pictures together with reindeer ears and eating cotton candy, rode the ferris wheel and could see London from above - it was different to be in heaven and not on a broom -, ate and bought several things, and finally, they skated on the rink of ice. A very ... different experience.

‘’We’re worse than that little boy under eight years old.’’ Ginny muttered a little irritably, getting up from what looked like the fifth tumble in less than ten minutes.

''My ass is freezing.'' Harry circled her, not looking much firmer than the old woman next to them.

‘’We should know how it goes.’’ Ginny tried again, flexing her knees and straightening her arms like that 12 year old girl had taught her, managing to walk more than two meters without falling. ‘‘We already ride a broom.’’ She whispered to Harry beside her who risked spinning around like a woman had done. ‘’That was terrible.’’

‘’Don’t laugh at me!’’ He barked, but he also laughed. ‘’I’m trying.’’ They held hands, ready to make the curve that had made them fall like two stooges. ‘’There’s no need for despair…’’

‘’You were the one who despaired when that little girl passed us.’’

‘’She was whirling in the air!’’ Harry stared at her, eyes wide. ‘’And she mustn’t even be ten years old.’’

‘’Calm down, love, we’re doing great.’’ Ginny laughed, managing to stop and without hitting the ground. ‘’We’re learning, see? It was only the first few times, then we take the practice.’’

''You're right.'' Harry walked around her again, a silly smile in his eyes. ‘’Please try not to be jealous.’’

‘’I’m going to try, Potter.’’ She rolled her eyes, following him up the track again, dodging people in a mastery that shocked her.

‘’Look at you! Without pushing anyone this time.’’ Harry said, also dodging and getting back to her side. ''We were born for this.''

‘’Yes.’’ She smiled proudly. ‘’I knew we were going to make it ... Want to try to spin like that little girl? I hold it around your waist.’’ Ginny winked at Harry, who laughed denying and getting a little flushed when the guy who passed them laughed at both of them.

 [...]

 The day seemed much quieter than it used to be at Hogwarts. Ginny could hear birds singing in the window, but nothing that resembled the morning conversations of roommates, owls flying, people already walking and talking loudly. It was much more cozy.

It was also better when Harry was hugging her half naked, sighing softly and looking completely at peace.

They had returned from the park well after ten o'clock, they still strolled the streets and bought hot chocolate to drink in the comfort of Harry's house. Molly had not enjoyed Ginny sleeping with him, especially when George and Ron weren't there and the two would be alone, but Harry convinced her that they would be fine and that they would be at The Burrow early.

Ginny felt a little anxious when she allowed them to realize that they were alone, Harry was only wearing sweatpants and she was only wearing his T-shirt - even if she had continued with the lingerie, because ... a woman could hope. At the same time that her thighs tightened at the thought, a part of her brain began to process the whole idea.

She still had remnants of yesterday's makeup, and her breath was not the best, other than the hair that was a mess. But Harry was being a very comfortable and warm pillow ... Maybe she could make breakfast for their both? That way she would have reason to get up and look in the mirror.

And that's what she did, after ten more comfortable minutes in her boyfriend's embrace, she slipped out and started her mission. They might not even have sex today, but Ginny was also not going to be with him on bad breath and in the mood to pee.

After taking care of everything needed, Ginny went to the kitchen and started her second job; Cook. She knew the basics, pancakes, frying eggs, sauteed mushrooms, and could even risk making that tea that Harry liked so much. They had to be at her mother's house until ten, and it wasn't even nine yet, she had time.

The kitchen was neat and complete, with utensils she didn't even know what it were for, and like the rest of the house, it was a lot tidier than you'd expect where 3 guys lived. The windows were large and there was plenty of light, the carpets were - at least every time Ginny was there - in place and clean, and there were no socks thrown around the house. Even the plants Hermione bought for them were alive.

Harry always said that George was much more organized than he showed, and that Ron was the only one who ended up leaving things out of place - and she knew that Harry had a terrible cleaning habit thanks to his aunt, which explained the always clean house .

When the pancakes were almost ready and Ginny was pouring tea, she heard footsteps behind her.

‘’I thought you wouldn’t wake up anymore.’’ She said, without looking back, spilling the milk as she knew Harry liked it, waiting for the pancake to finish cooking.

‘’Being happy is tiring.’’ Harry murmured, his husky voice making her skin crawl. ‘’You didn’t need to do this.’’

‘’I wanted to,’’ She shrugged. ‘’And I was hungry.’’

‘’We could have dealt with that too.’’ Harry laughed softly, making Ginny bite her lip and laugh too. ‘’Merry Christmas.’’ He wrapped his arms around her waist, his head resting against her right shoulder.

‘’Merry Christmas.’’ She looked at him, almost knocked over by his cute beauty.

There were days when Harry or she ran away from their rooms and slept together, the nightmares were still quite present and each other's presence there was quite comforting. But something about not having to wake up almost five in the morning to get back to her own room before someone woke up, didn't let her enjoy his face when she woke up; all crumpled by the pillow, his hair even more wild, his eyes a little puffy and small.

Ginny wanted to squeeze his cheeks and kiss him.

‘’Do we still have time before we need to go to your mom’s house?’’ He was looking at her in a way that wasn’t as simple as it normally was. The green eyes were darkening and the pupils dilated, and his breathing seemed to be much faster than before.

Ginny didn't think she was getting any different, feeling the warmth of his bare chest on her back, her belly tightened and the hunger seemed to disappear suddenly, staring at Harry so close, both wearing less clothes than usual, the little sunlight illuminating his face and making him look even more handsome with slightly burnt cheeks of the Cold.

 ‘’We have plenty of time.’’ She spoke almost in a whisper, her body seeming to burn in a new and delicious way.

‘’Good.’’ Harry spoke before he kissed her. It was a kiss that also seemed new, much less delicate than all the others they had already given, even those given at times when the two were very connected and hot.

It was much more hungry, needy, and intimate than everyone else.

Things proceeded with a naturalness that Ginny did not expect. It was like a dance that they had done millions and millions of times together, synchronized with each step and never losing a beat or bumping into each other's feet. It seemed as right as saying that today was Christmas, that it was cold outside, and that she loved him with all her heart.

They danced together in the kitchen, Ginny leaning against the counter as the light came in more and more and the birds sang even louder. Then they went to Harry's room, their hands seeming to take on a life of their own during that short journey, exploring and longing for the moment that there were no more pieces of clothing to stop them.

‘’Are we doing this?’’ She asked, in a hushed voice from Harry’s kisses. His hands went up under her shirt, touching the skin on her belly and looking a little shaky when they touched the bra seam.

‘’Only if you want.’’ He murmured against the skin of her neck, looking a little anxious. ‘’You’re the boss’’ Harry looked at her, his glasses crooked on his face and the black strands being lit by the incoming sunlight, showing some reddish brown strands that Ginny had never noticed.

Her heart exploded, looking at the man on top of her who made her feel things that no one ever dreamed of making her feel. Harry didn't even make an effort to make her feel her body on fire.

Hermione was wrong, Ginny realized, it was about feelings, about giving in, about being comfortable with the other. This was not just science, it was about trusting and a lot of things she had no idea about, she just felt.

She felt the tightness in her thighs, her belly swirling in flames, her head becoming cloudy with any coherent thought beyond her imagination, working hard to remember the times she imagined it.

She imagined that when Michael pressed against her the first time and made her feel like he was feeling during the kiss; it was Harry over there. When Dean touched your breasts; it was Harry over there. When Harry touched her under her skirt in the middle of the Forbidden Forest, the two of them in complete darkness, she pressed against the tree and he moaned in her ear when he first felt her. It was always Harry.

On the nights when her imagination was simmering while reading a novel, during the year that he ran away so she wouldn't feel so alone, during the days after the war when they kissed at the lake, when she returned to Hogwarts and Harry was going visit her clandestinely.

It wasn't just science, friction and something biological.

‘’We’re doing this.’’

Then the dance - the one that Ginny already knew a few steps from - started to unfold naturally.

His shirt found the floor and Harry widened his eyes at her lingerie, stopping to kiss her to run his hand over the lace on her breasts and then dropping down to engage the lace on her hips, looking lost with the light blue fabric that left little for the imagination.

''Wow.'' Harry muttered, looking much more hungry than she remembered seeing him, and Ginny can't help but blush and want to hug her body as if to protect herself.

‘’Does it serve as a Christmas present?’’ She said, trying to sound as confident as possible, but feeling more embarrassed than when she sent the valentine card to Harry when she was 11.

‘’You don’t even have to try so hard, honestly.’’ Harry laughed, which made her laugh, relieved that there wasn’t a strange atmosphere around them. Fleur said that this could sometimes happen - ‘’It’s also important for most boys.’’

‘’Good, because you need to be careful with that, it’s the most beautiful thing in my entire wardrobe.’’ Ginny pointed at her body. ‘’You’ll see me using it more often.’’

‘’Oh.’’ Harry’s eyebrows almost hit the ceiling.‘’So will there be other moments? Ginny, please, we've barely started, don't put so much pressure on a man.’’ She tapped his arm, blushing like a little girl and laughing at his boldness to feel so confident when the two were about to have sex for the first time.

‘’Shut up, Harry.’’ She asked - or order - and kissed him, hands firm on the back of his neck so that it was impossible for him to get away from her again. Not that Harry looked like he wanted to run away, but it was just a worry that was in the back of her mind.

They didn't speak much after that. His mouth parted from her lips, but instead of speaking, Harry dedicated himself to kissing every bit of her, the sun illuminating his skin and hair, as he descended more and more, looking quite focused on not forgetting any details.

His hands also strolled over Ginny, soon reaching for her back and lifting her off the mattress so that he could properly open her bra, causing chills that she never thought to feel. It was different from the times he took her bra off just in moments of making out, it seemed much hotter now, almost feverish, even though it was cold outside.

Ginny's whole body seemed to be on fire, as if summer had come earlier and she was resting under the sun, feeling her skin warm and starting to get that usual red hue. But this time, it didn't burn and made her want to die because of the discomfort. No, this time Ginny was willing to burn. It was one of the best feelings.

Gradually Harry's hand went down her belly, his mouth going down to her now naked breasts, and everything working in a synchronized order that was delicious to feel. Her organs tightened when he finally reached below her navel, on top of the tissue that was starting to become too uncomfortable.

They had never been in that state of nudity, usually pants, a skirt, or even a T-shirt, were on the body, and even though Ginny was feeling insecure because they were so on display for Harry before, now she just wanted nothing more to be among them, that Harry's hand could actually touch her flesh, that he didn't wear anything else too.

‘’Harry.’’ Ginny spoke, the feeling of pleasure building with each second. He had really learned to use his mouth - not his teeth, as he used to do at the beginning.

She squeezed his hand with her own, lifting it up to put it inside her panties, which made him laugh; ‘’You’re in a hurry.’’

‘’Just… hurry up.’’

Harry fulfilled her wish, not only using his hand but also finally getting his face between Ginny's legs. Taking off her panties and looking at that synchronicity they had learned together that made her know heaven and hell in a short time.

It was a little devastating that Harry was so good, and that it made Ginny feel so good when he was there, making her more and more noisy and more and more anxious for reach the peak of the mountain where everything seemed too good, and nothing could stop her from just throwing herself up there, feeling the most powerful person in the world.

Harry groaned along with Ginny when she came, her hands caught in his hair, she was barely able to keep her eyes open as she arched and received a good deal of sunlight from the window behind her, that fireball that had formed in her belly seeming to explode.

It was almost painful, it felt so good.

The next few seconds were followed by a rush and anxiety that Ginny was unaware of. In one moment Harry was in the middle of her legs, in another, he was on top of her naked, moaning her name when her hand snaked over her abdomen and reached for his dick.

It was a perfect dance. Desperate. But still, Ginny enjoyed it.

‘’I want it to be good for you.’’ He murmured against her neck, groaning as Ginny tormented him a little.

‘’Harry, you’re already done.’’ She admitted, sincerely.

‘’I… I don’t know if I can take much.’’

''And I'm not really mad about it ...'' Ginny used her other hand to lift his face, to feel a little breathless at how dark his eyes were, his huge pupils looking like holes in the orbs green. ‘’We have all the time in the world. It's only the first time.’’ She shrugged, stopping masturbating so that it really made him concentrate. ''I love you.''

‘’I love you too.’’ Harry kissed her, in love and making her melt on top of the sheets, still getting used to the orgasm that had totally relaxed her. ‘’Please tell me if you want to stop or if hurt.’’ His voice came out a little hoarse, muffled by the fact that they were still kissing.

When Ginny first felt him there, it was unlike anything she had ever felt. It was strange, different, and kind of uncomfortable. But it was still good. Each time he went in it was as if her body expanded and prepared for the act. It was as if all of her had been waiting for years for that sensation that she couldn't describe what it was.

‘’No,’’ She grabbed Harry’s shoulder when he threatened to take it off, perhaps afraid that her contraction would mean something other than just that she was getting used to it. ‘’It's okay, put it back.’’

It was a dance that Harry and she seemed to be unable to dance to, but the music was not entirely unknown. They knew the melody, now they just had to align the steps.

Ginny waited patiently for the pain Fleur had said she could feel, just like Hermione commented, but all she felt was a slight discomfort - like that when you first get on a broom and don't know what to do with your hands and hands. feet - and then, nothing more, just that expansion that was almost good to feel.

When Harry finally found his pelvis with hers, the birdsong seemed to fill the room, along with the sounds they made as they settled. It was as if they understood what to do with their hands when it came to music, and now they could start waltzing without getting so lost.

‘’Everything okay?’’ He asked, his voice in a tone Ginny had never heard before, looking almost filled with pain and lust just as much.

''Yes. You?’’ They stared at each other, breathing what seemed to be all the air in the room. Or the world.

''Everything's good.''

‘’Are you… are you going to move?’’ Ginny didn’t want to rush him, but the melody seemed to start to speed up in her ears and her body was wishing they didn’t stand still as they were.

‘’Just… I just need a second.’’ Harry closed his eyes, hands steady beside Gin, supporting his weight and seeming to tremble slightly, as if it were too much for him. She was happy to know that it was also messing with him.

Ginny felt strangely good when Harry finally moved, it was still weird - very weird - but he seemed to be doing things for her that she wouldn't know how to explain, even if she thought hard (which she couldn't do). It seemed to mess with all of her inside, as if from one hour to the next, the music changed and took on a rhythm so different and new that you stand between paying attention to learn to sing the lyrics, and dancing awkwardly just following intuition.

It was as if all parts of it, the room, the world, moved out of place and were rearranged differently.

‘‘Sorry.’’ Harry startled her when his glasses fell on her face, his cheeks flushed and sweat was pricking his forehead, looking more focused than she had ever seen.

‘’Let it go.’’ She left his glasses anywhere else, her hands holding Harry’s face as if Ginny never really realized how committed he was to making it good. All focused and anxious, as if he was afraid he might hurt her. ‘’Babe,’’ Gin whispered, as if sharing a secret. ‘‘Let go.’’ She knew it would be difficult for Harry to hold on until they understood how to dance that song the right way. They took many attempts to learn how to use their mouth and hands, but, one hour they learned, at least Harry never complained and she never did.

They had all the time in the world.

The birds sang louder, just as the bed creaked when Harry moved again, kissing her and losing some of the balance he kept in his arms, seeming to finally free himself from the desire to reach perfection when they were just starting.

Harry said her name in a way that would torment Ginny for the rest of her life, she knew that, tightening the sheets even more at the side of her head and biting her bottom lip as it curled over her. The world seemed to stop spinning, the sky let all the stars fall, and everything inside her seemed to change.

She could never forget that.

That’s why they didn’t write it in the books, so there was no data, articles, and difficult names for that; it simply was. It just happened and changed the order of everything. There was no way to explain an event like that.

Harry moaning her name and losing all of his remaining strength, falling on top of her and looking almost shaky, grabbing her like she was the only thing that still kept him on Earth.

It was much more than Fleur, and especially Hermione, they could report.

Ginny wanted to cry, even though it was completely stupid and meaningless, she wanted to cry.

‘’I love you.’’ She said, the birds singing and the sunlight illuminating the two even more now.

Harry continued to hug her, also looking shaken.

‘’Sorry I didn’t make you come, I swear I tried and--’’

‘’--Harry,’’ Ginny interrupted, not knowing how he had the courage to apologize. ‘’Don’t say that. I liked it, I swear.’’ She assured him, feeling his body relax over hers. ‘’We still have a lot of time to learn.’’

‘‘We have.’’ He kissed her shoulder. '’Merry Christmas, Gin. You make me the happiest man in the world.’’

‘’Are you saying that because we just had sex?’’ Harry laughed, looking at her and smiling from ear to ear, even though he looked sleepy.

‘’I’m saying this because it’s the truth. You made me the happiest man in the world yesterday too, and we don't have sex... You always do.'' Ginny blushed, laughing softly and feeling that tightness in her stomach that she always felt when he said things like that to her.

‘’You also make me the happiest woman in the world, Harry.’’ She winked at him, kissing the tip of a finger and touching the tip of his nose. ''Merry Christmas.''

[andilovetowrite]

Chosen Couple (Part 3)

Peter Parker x Reader (The reader is an Avenger)

Summary- Peter and you have a movie night to celebrate the school year ending, but the night takes an unexpected turn. Suddenly, you wish you had never even gone to Peter’s house in the first place.

Warnings- Pretty bad angst, but then again, it’s my first time writing it, so I am open to comments and suggestions on how to improve it.

Posted: April 26, 2021

Word Count- 2.3k

Part 1 and Part 2

Feeling your face heat up, you read the card again and again. Could it be for you? Could Peter like you back? But you got your answer quite quickly.

“What are you doing?!” Peter asked, dashing to you, webbing the box shut.

“Uh, just checking out what was in the box…” you said, crossing your fingers behind your back. “Who’s it for Peter?”

He stared at you, and for a second, you thought he was going to say your name, tell you that he liked you back, tell you that he wanted to be more than friends. But it all went down the drain, and your heart sunk to your stomach when he blurted out. “MJ!”

“MJ?” you asked, feeling pieces of your heart tear into two. Peter looked shocked at what he said, eyebrows furrowed at the slight shake in your voice. But he couldn’t take it back now, could he?

“Y-yeah...uh, I.. um, like MJ, and I told Mr Stark the other day, and he helped me buy these things for yo-her”, he said, stuttering lightly. Maybe if you had paid attention, you would have seen the slight look of desperation on his face, but you were too busy trying to keep a neutral face.

“You told Tony before you told me?” you asked randomly, trying to mask the pain in your voice.

Again, Peter looked crestfallen, looking at the ground before nodding. “You know, because MJ is your best friend, and I thought that if you knew, you might tell her and she might reject me before I even could tell her how I feel” As Peter went on with the sentence, you could see his eyes start to shine a bit, and the small ball in your throat started to grow bigger, almost choking you.

You could feel a slight tingling in your stomach and hands, meaning your powers were beginning to become stronger. It usually happened when you were angry, but now, it made sense that it showed up whenever strong feelings were blowing up your mind. Numbly nodding, you picked up the beautiful copy of the book he had gotten her, now understanding.

You weren’t the only one who liked the book. MJ loved it as well. A couple of weeks ago, you two were chatting about it in the cafeteria, laughing and joking around, and then Peter had shown up, pulling you aside to ask you what was the title of the book that had you enamoured. Well, which had MJ enchanted. Putting it back down, you gulped, forcing a smile on your face. The air was uncomfortable for a couple of minutes, neither of you saying anything. Peter kept staring at the ground while you were blinking rapidly, trying to have a weak attempt at keeping the flow of tears threatening to burst out. Just as you were about to leave from the high tension, open the door and leave, the lights flickered back one by one, the TV’s sounds filling the room again.

“Um, do you want to finish movie night?” Peter’s voice asked from behind you, making you hesitate. You had two choices. You could either go home and cry under the comfort of your bed and then rant to Nat and Wanda about your conundrum, or you could suck it up and endure few more hours of torture, knowing that the last four years of your life spent on loving you best friend would be in vain…. See, you had never taken the easy way out in anything.

So you nodded at him, not saying a word as you slowly walked back to the sofa where you were just about to confess your feelings. Not even touching the blanket, on you and Peter earlier, you pulled your feet up, hugging your knees. Peter sat from across you, reaching out his hand as he might touch you but then pulling it back. You could hardly pay attention to the movie, which was probably the sixth one.

Instead, you focused on the clock, watching the minutes tick by slowly. Second by second. You knew him long enough to see that he wasn’t paying attention either. Any time you spared him a glance, he seemed far away, glassy-eyed and lost in thought. Just as the movie was ending, Peter asked out loud, his voice sharp and brittle.

“Why are you so weird?”

Looking at him properly for the first time since you opened the box, you were speechless. Why were you weird? Maybe because you thought you and Peter were close enough to share little things like crushes. Maybe you were mad that he could trust you with his life on the battlefield but not with his high school crush. Maybe you were furious that he went to Tony for help. Maybe because you thought that he and you were closer than him and Tony. Maybe because you were angry that he couldn’t just suck it up and tell you that he liked MJ. Perhaps because you liked him like he liked MJ, and just maybe because you thought that he wanted you like he liked MJ...

But you couldn’t tell that to him, so you just said back in an emotionless voice. “I’m not weird at all. Why do you think I’m weird?”

Not expecting you to beat around the bush, he answered back, hints of a frown showing up on his face. “Well, you haven’t said anything since I told you I liked MJ. Do you have some type of problem with her?” As soon as he finished, his face contorted into a frown as if he was in pain.

Shocked that he would even ask that, you shot back. “I don’t have any problem with MJ. Hell, she is my best friend. I just want to know why you didn’t tell me about this simple secret?”

He spat, answering me back as he stood up, towering over me. “What’s your problem?! Just cause I don’t tell you about my crush? Oh, and by the way, it’s not a simple little secret. I’ve loved her for years!” His jaw clenched lightly, slowly looking you in the eyes.

Shaking your head, you stood up, now standing the same height as him. “I’m don’t have a problem with anything. I just thought that you- uh…-”, gulping softly, you gaped at him, “Peter, why are you acting like this?”

Breathing heavily now, he glared at you, hate in his eyes, mixed with something you couldn’t make out. “Why are you acting like my mother Y/N?!”

“What the hell Parker? I could’ve helped you out. We’ve always done these things together”, you said, pushing out the words. Your stomach twisted as you said you would help him, curling with envy and jealously towards MJ.

“Oh yeah? Like how you asked for my help with Brad?”

Exasperated, you threw your hands up, light lavender light starting to show from your fingertips. “What is it with you and Brad? He’s a great guy!”

“Uh-huh, and that’s why you thanked me for launching you out of that problematic date of yours, right?”

Starting to feel tired and feeling the weight of your fight beginning to fall on you, you just gazed at him, trying to figure out why his face was red. “Is it because of the movie? Or the exams?”

“Y/N, I don’t know why you can’t just-”, going to sighed, hands running through his curls. The only time you had seen him this broken was when Tony had taken away his suit and when you came with him to find the Vulture. You took a deep breath, moving back from the couch. This was the first time you and Peter had ever fought on something so minute. So irrelevant. Something so damn hard to swallow for you. Peter clicked his tongue and then called out, fire laced in his words.

“Well, maybe it is because of the movie. You keep saying that you like Harry and have spent your whole life loving him as a... character, but now, judging from your glances at the screen, Ron’s the one you want, don’t you?”His eyes narrowed into tiny slits as he spoke.

“Oh yeah, and why’s that?” you asked accusingly, folding your arms over your chest.

“I don’t know? Maybe because you just have bad taste in men!” he said, sneering at you. Not once, ever in the six years you had known Peter did you see him sneer at you. But this only fueled the anger deep within your chest.

“Well, in that case, you probably don’t even like Hermione so much. You would like someone like Ginny Weasley! You tried to stop, but you couldn’t as you went on, airing all of your problems out.

“Oh wait, and your right, I do like Ron better. It’s because Ron is tall and cute, part of sports teams and oh yeah, he gets all the girls. He has experience with a girl, and I think that’s what makes him more interesting than Harry!” you said, knowing that the topic had gone off the movie long ago.

Peter almost looked hurt for a couple of seconds as you spoke of ‘Ron’, but then he clenched his jaw, face hardening. “Well, your right then! Ginny is the perfect girl. I mean, her life is smooth and secure, with family and friends surrounding her. Not like Hermione, whose parents don’t even care about her, let alone anyone else.”

As soon as Peter finished, you could feel the anger draining out of you, replaced by a blinding pain in your chest. You could see Peter’s eyes widen in realisation, softening apologetically. Letting out a long breath, you stood up, not wanting to let him see the tears welling in your eyes. “Why would you say that?”, You asked as you let out all the pent up energy, stress and emotions you had been holding in for the evening in one go. Picking up your phone, you began walking to the door, ignoring Peter’s calls behind you.

“Y/N, I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry!” Peter said, calling out, his voice cracking towards the end. Gritting your teeth, you kept going. You were taught from a young age never to cry in public. You had kind of let that go with Peter, though. He was your best friend. You two used to talk about many things, about school, movies, family, friends. You had comforted Peter every year when his parent’s death anniversary came around. He was a shoulder to cry on when being an Avenger became just too much for you. But you had never cried because of Peter. Never but none because of your fight.

Oh, and coincidentally, that little piece of advice was given by your parents. Your parents who...left you. Almost forgot about you. Feeling a fresh new set of emotions burst through your mouth. Whirling backwards, you stared at Peter. He was standing in the middle of the hallway, almost hunched over under your vision. He glanced up at you, eyes bloodshot. “I’m sorry”, he whispered helplessly.

Dark purple light started emerging from you, making your hair stand up. You could feel your heartbeat get faster as you pushed out every last bit of hatred you could muster. Peter’s face was now reflecting the violet light, lip quivering ever so slightly.

“Why would you use my parents? You know how I-” Feeling a sob jump out of your throat, you collapsed on the floor, the purple ring around you flashing out before the apartment became as dark as before. Just as you fell, you felt Peter run over to you; arm’s circling you. You could feel his hair tickling your neck as he bought you closer.

“I didn’t mean it. Please…”, Peter said, holding you tight as his embrace. Wondering if you should push him back, you couldn’t be bothered. Instead, you hugged him back, letting yourself melt into him. You don’t know how long you stayed in that position, huddled near the door, both you and Peter trying to figure things out.

But at some point, when you were sure that you could stand up without becoming a bumbling mess of tears, you pulled away. Peter looked at you, eyes rimmed with red, cheeks puffy with his curls a mess. Sniffing, you stand up, not saying anything as you turn away, opening the door softly and looking back at him, your gaze diverting to the black box.

“Go give it to her Pete. I’m sure she would love it.”

And with that, you walked out the door, into the dark night, rain pelting on your head, but truthfully, you couldn’t care less at this point.

Damn, and I thought this would be a fun, fluffy piece, but it turned into something a bit more… Well, anyway, let’s see what happens next. Will Peter give MJ the box? Will Y/N ever even talk to Peter and MJ? Check it out in a few days when I put out the next part. Also, if you made it this far, maybe follow me to see some more short series and stories about our favourite spider boy :)

Part 1 and Part 2

Part 4

[ohscorbus]

Do you think Albus had a moment where he realized how rich Scorpius was?

Everyone knows how rich the Malfoys are. That’s common knowledge. But knowing something and understanding it, seeing it with your own two eyes, that’s something completely different. So yes, I think the reality of it hits him many times over the years. Which is actually quite funny considering the Potters aren’t exactly poor themselves.

Harry is undoubtedly very well off and no matter how much he probably donates or invests, those vaults aren’t going down. He’s working as the Head Auror and there’s all the vaults he inherited, but also the fact he doesn’t spend excessively to show off or simply just because he can. Not in the way your typical Malfoy would. Where they’ll have the finest robes and rooms of rare trinkets, Harry prefers his Weasley jumper and his family photos. I think Ginny would be the same. She grew up in a family that got by on hand me down clothes and secondhand textbooks. She also had to deal with people making her family’s financial situation the butt of their jokes. But she never went hungry, was always surrounded by family, and knew she was loved. That’s the heart of the Weasley family to me. All the things Harry desperately craved growing up. The fact he loved the Burrow the second he stepped foot in there was not surprising. I have no doubt the home they built for their own kids resembles the Burrow in many ways. On the outside it may look more like a traditional house, but inside there’s a warmth to it that money just cannot buy. It’s in Lily’s artwork on the walls. Their first September 1st photos along the mantelpiece. The lingering smell of a home cooked meal. The lines on the doorframe marking their ever increasing heights. The jumper left on the worn armchair. Their faces on the clock that Ginny has ‘detention’ added to so she knows when James isn’t telling the whole truth in his letters. 

Albus never grew up without food or a warm bed. He also always got whatever new books he needed and whatever toy he’d asked for at Christmas. Just like Scorpius. And I think it’s a privilege both the Potters and the Malfoys have tried to instil in their sons. For Albus it was ‘just because they can afford it, doesn’t mean he needs it’. There’s pocket money to earn and treats for special occasions and siblings to share with. So Albus still ended up with half a wardrobe of James’s old clothes and he happily passed down his books to Lily as she learned to read. He never questioned it because his cousins did the same. That was his norm. Just like Scorpius’s class was his. Even with Draco and Astoria bringing him up without all the pureblood nonsense, I don’t think they’ll ever be able to lose their class. Nor would they want to. But I can see them actively trying to instil some modesty in him. He’s not to be embarrassed or ashamed of what they have but he’s also never to be as boastful or spoilt as Draco was. I don’t think they’d ever try and live more modestly though. They want the best for their child and they can afford that, so why not?

So the Potters are rich and the Malfoys are super rich. But I don’t think the Potters and the Malfoys are financially worlds apart compared to many of their fellow students. They’re alike in that sense. It’s more their parent’s attitude towards money that makes them different from each other. But part of growing up and venturing out into the world on your own is about meeting new people from different backgrounds and experiencing new cultures. So I think Albus being shocked by Scorpius’s world is just part of that. (Although as the eldest of five myself, I can imagine Albus is more shocked by Scorpius’s life as an only child!) It also makes me wonder if Scorpius is ever shocked by Albus at any point. It wouldn’t surprise me if Scorpius has a better idea of the Potter wealth than Albus does. If money isn’t something Albus has ever had to worry about then he’s probably not paid much attention to it. He’s still a child so why would he? Whereas Scorpius is the sole heir in a family that’s very much involved in their investments. I doubt Draco hasn’t taught him a thing or two over the years about what that entails. Not that Scorpius would judge Albus or his family for their choices, but I’m sure he’s intrigued by them. Harry Potter could afford a manor of his own, so why wouldn’t he have one? It’s an innocent question I’d love to see eleven year old Scorpius discuss with his parents. He’d never ask Albus. Not even when Albus eventually visits the Manor for the first time and makes a comment about wishing he had a room like his. That too is an innocent statement. I don’t think either boy would actually want to change anything about their lifestyle. (Although not having to share a bedroom wall with James sounds like the dream to teenage Albus.)

You know what I’d really love to see? Scorpius at the Burrow for the first time. You’d think it wouldn’t be the same once all the kids had moved out, but now they all come back with their own kids and the place is fuller than ever before. I’d love for Scorpius to have that close knit, extended family experience. I want him to see how everyone has a place in the chaos. A bigger house would give them breathing space but it soon becomes clear they don’t need it. They’re happy to share food, fight over who gets the better stool, and argue whose turn it is to do the dishes. It’s utter madness but he feels the love here just as much as he does at his own table. It’s not about whose parents got it right or wrong. Which is better or what they prefer. It’s about understanding and acceptance. So Scorpius doesn’t hesitate to grab the tea towel and stand alongside Albus at the sink. Just like Albus happily learns exactly which fork he needs for what course. They adapt because they choose to be part of each other’s lives.

But there are moments that give Albus pause at Hogwarts though. Like Scorpius’s fancy shower products that outnumber Albus’s single bottle. The expensive sweets he’ll sit and mindlessly eat on an ordinary Tuesday evening. The birthday presents he receives that cost more than what his own parents would even spend on him. But there’s no judgment. Just surprise and amusement. Because Scorpius also collects chocolate frog cards, he doesn’t take his Weasley jumper off for weeks once he gets his own, and he wears more odd socks than any other person he knows. He may tease Scorpius about it, in the way only a best friend can, but there’s nothing behind it. Albus isn’t jealous or annoyed by his wealth and nor is Scorpius rubbing it in. In fact, I bet he’s even a little embarrassed those first few times he catches a reaction from Albus. But ultimately? Albus doesn’t care and so neither will Scorpius around him. They’ve both had a lifetime of people judging them so they aren’t about to do that to each other. They’re just Albus and Scorpius. That wealth still belongs to their parents at this stage in their life anyway. I don’t think any significant shock or even disagreement over money comes until they’re both adults and more independent. That’s when I can see the differences in their upbringing really being highlighted. That’s not to say they don’t also align in places. It’s definitely Albus and Scorpius vs. Draco when it comes to their wedding!

(Apologies for the long winded answer. Money is such a fascinating subject because it brings out the best and the worst in people. The fact that Albus and Scorpius seem so grounded is a credit to their parents. But just because they are okay with each other doesn’t mean they don’t encounter any issues from other people. But the bullying is another topic entirely. Vandalised trunks can be replaced but words can cause wounds money can’t heal.)

[sweetcherrypie1967]

Sweet Tooth

Now to anyone else this wouldn't be a big deal but to those that knew her, they knew she wasn't one to get very confused. After all, they don't call her the brightest witch of her age for nothing. She was always trying to find a logical explanation for everything she encountered and dealt with it accordingly.

But this had her stumped.

Every week her parents would send many sweets to her to share with her friends. While they were dentists and protested excessive amounts of candy, they trusted she was responsible enough not to use them in excessive amounts. They also knew that Hermione's friends enjoyed sweets very much so they felt no guilt in sending so much. It was a sweet gesture that Hermione looked forwards to every week but this week, however, she had put the sweets in a bowl in the Heads Common Room so that others were free to have some and the next morning they were gone.

She hadn't even had any of her friends in the Common Room since putting this week's batch there. So where could it have gone?

Hermione was contemplating this staring at the empty bowl when the Head Boy came out from his room. His blond hair still wet from just taking a shower as he cheerfully bounded down the steps.

"Good morning Hermione," Draco Malfoy said.

"Good morning, Draco," she said, "you wouldn't happen to know what happened to the sweets my parents sent me, would you?"

He paused mid-stride, looked at the empty bowl and pretended to think hard. "Nope, not a clue," Draco said shrugging before continuing in the room with a spring in his step.

It was a shock to Hermione when she found out that she would have to share the Head Dorms with Draco. It really did make sense why he was chosen as Head Boy, so she shouldn't have been surprised. He was second only to her in their year and earned the position just as much as she did. Hermione was so worried about it that she almost went to McGonagall on the verge of asking to be demoted to Prefect. The more she thought about it though, the she decided that she'd worked too long and hard to get to be the Head Girl so she wasn't going to give it up so easily. So, they put up with each other as neither was willing to back down and they eventually became somewhat friends.

"Well you seem to be in an awfully good mood today," Hermione commented

"You're right, as usual. I am in a fantastic mood today," Draco said plopping down on one of the couches by the fireplace.

"May I ask why?" Hermione said amused. While she did find him a lot more pleasant to be around, it was still rare to catch him in a particularly good mood.

"Because, dearest Hermione, today is the day that I am going to ask out that girl I told you about to Hogsmeade this weekend," he said grinning.

"Oh, that's wonderful!" Hermione said with as much enthusiasm as she could muster.

As they were getting closer and trusting each other more, Draco confided -or more like Hermione caught on and he confessed- that he had a secret crush on some mystery girl. He went on about how beautiful and smart and wonderful she was, though Draco refused to reveal her identity. At first Hermione was excited that he was trusting her enough to tell her something so personal, but couldn't help feeling a pang in her chest. She hadn't the slightest idea why until a few weeks ago while talking to her good friend Ginny Weasley.

Hermione has her own crush on the blond boy.

Still, she wouldn't allow it to show, he obviously didn't feel the same as he was so occupied by this other woman. And why should I even hope for anything else? Just because we're friends now doesn't change that he's Draco Malfoy and she's Hermione Granger, they'd never work..

..could they?

"Hey? Hermione?" Draco said bringing her out of her thoughts.

"Hm? Oh sorry, what were you saying?" Hermione said embarrassed.

"I was asking if you were alright, you kinda zoned out there," he said with a charming smile that made her melt.

"Yeah I'm alright, just lost in thought I guess," she explained.

"Ok," Draco said before launching into all his different ideas of where to take this mystery girl. Hermione listened while secretly picturing him and herself going to do these activities, even if she knew they were never going to happen. "I don't know, Hermione..maybe I'm getting my hopes too high," he said sadly.

This snapped her back to reality. Draco Malfoy, aka sexiest boy at Hogwarts, worried about some girl rejecting him? She didn't know whether to be proud he wasn't being too egotistical or worried he's gone mad.

"You're not ill, are you?" Hermione teased.

"I mean it, Hermione. What if she says no?" He worried.

"Where's that Malfoy confidence of yours? Of course she'll say yes," she told him encouragingly.

"I don't know...after all I've done? Me and her haven't had the best track record, I wouldn't blame her," Draco said looking at the fire.

"Draco Malfoy, do you care for this girl?" Hermione asked.

"I think I made that pretty clear," he said rolling his eyes.

"Yes or no," she said bossily.

"Yes," Draco laughed.

"Do you think you could fall for her?" She asked.

Draco looked at her for a moment and thought about what she was asking. "Yes," he said honestly.

"Then that's all that matters. If she rejects you then that just means she isn't the one who's meant for you, you have proven that you've changed time and time again this year so if she can't see that then thats her loss," Hermione said firmly, "besides, would you rather go on without knowing how she'd answer? Without being able to say you tried?"

"You're right, as always. I'm being silly aren't I?" Draco said cracking a smile.

"Yes, yes you are," she told him to which they both laughed.

There was a part of Hermione that selfishly wished this mystery girl would reject to his offer but another that wished she would agree, just so Hermione can see him happy. Only time could tell.

"So when are you going to tell me who this girl is?" Hermione asked him.

"After I ask her," he promised with a twinkle in his eye.

"And when when will you be asking her?" Hermione asked.

"Not telling," Draco said.

****

It was dinnertime in the Great Hall. Hermione was sitting at the Gryffindor table with Harry Potter along with Ron and Ginny Weasley while Draco was sitting at the Slytherin table with Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, and Daphne Greengrass. He's been fiddling with his hands nervously the entire time, too anxious to eat anything.

"C'mon mate, why are you so worried? Who in Merlin's name would reject you?" Theo said.

"Any girl that's got a brain," Blaise teased to which Daphne elbowed him, "ouch!..bloody woman...I mean, yeah what he said."

"Really Draco, could you at least tell us who she is? It might be easier for us to help if we knew," Daphne urged.

"No, you'll find out soon enough. I don't need help I..just need a minute," Draco assured his closest friends.

"Dinner will be over soon, you'd better make it fast. Especially if you want to get something to eat," Blaise said.

"Yeah, ok. Here I go," Draco said more to himself than anyone else before standing up and striding across the Great Hall.

Right to the Gryffindor table.

He shook his head as if to rid himself of his nerves and show his famous Malfoy confidence as he got closer. As he approached, Draco could feel all the eyes on him but he paid them no mind.

Not until her eyes were on him.

Draco sat down next to her as if he did it everyday, and he had done this on occasion throughout the current year.

"Hey Hermione, you remember that girl I was telling you about?" Draco asked, knowing everyone within earshot would be listening.

"Yes..oh! Did you ask her? What did she say?" Hermione asked intrigued.

"No actually, I haven't asked her yet," Draco told her, "I'm kinda getting to that."

"You'd better hurry if you want to do it today," Hermione said.

"Yeah, I should," Draco agreed. Hermione went back to her food, expecting him to go off and ask the girl, not wanting to see what would happen.

"Hermione," Draco said trying to regain her attention.

"Yeah?" She said not looking up.

He gently put his hand on her chin and tilted her head to look at him. "Would you like to go with me to Hogsmeade this weekend?" He asked.

"But I thought you were going with that mystery girl?" She said not piecing it together.

Draco sighed dramatically, "for the brightest witch of our age, you really can be . You're the mystery girl. I'm asking you on a date to Hogsmeade."

Her mouth dropped, along with almost everyone else's. Everyone else was still getting used to the idea of Hermione and Draco being friends and now he was asking her on a date?

"Oh! Yes, yes of course!" Hermione said excitedly before crushing him in a hug.

Draco laughed, "and by the way, it was me who ate the candy from your parents," he admitted in a whisper.

"It was you?" She exclaimed but somehow managed to keep the same volume.

"Yes, but don't worry I'll make it up to you," he promised.

And Draco did just that. The first activity the two did together in Hogsmeade was go straight to Honeydukes and let Hermione pick out all the sweets she desired. Draco, of course, picked out many as well for himself and paid for all of it.

"Draco Malfoy, how many sweets did you buy? The whole shop?" Hermione said surprised.

"What can I say? I guess you could say I've got a sweet tooth," Draco told her.

"That's an understatement," Hermione laughed.

They spend the rest of the day doing various things around the small town. Draco took her to a bookshop, the Three Broomsticks and anywhere else she wanted. Back in their Common Room they ate and exchanged their sweets while talking about their day.

All was well.

[jamilelucato]

together [F. W.] || pt.2

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Slytherin!reader

Part 1 available here || together MASTERLIST || Part 3 here!

Summary: Professor McGonagall has had enough of yours and Weasley’s pranks. She has an idea of how to stop it, but will it be enough?

A/N: I forgot to tell you that Reyna is a character that I invented myself — so is some other random Slytherin’s students, since we don’t get to know many of them in the books. With that said, let’s dive into this part! Hope you guys like it!

There will be a third part, of course! If you wanna be tagged, just ask!

Words: 8.129

Tag List: @witchything​ @randomlonelytorment​ @themusingsofmany​ @stuckindilemma​ 

Fred was the one who woke you up in the morning. "Good morning, y/N," he said, after shaking your right hand.

You looked down at him a bit embarrassed by what you might look like in the morning. You two used ten of the thirty minutes McGonagall had given you to change clothes and get ready.

It was the start of your second day with a binding charm that connected you and Fred, not being able to be more than five centimetres away from his wrist. It wasn't such a nightmare, though. The older Weasley twin was very gentle, although he practically paid attention to no class, he was fun to have around.

You two remet at the end of Gryffindor's stairs, right on time.

"Ok... so, I'm taking you to breakfast at my table."

"What?" you questioned, leaning your head away.

"It's for you to have social experiences... You don't talk to anyone during the times you're eating, and that's bloody depressing," Fred explained, lowering his tone while you guys left the Gryffindor's room. "Besides, I sat at yours yesterday."

"Because I slept in your room! We had a deal!" you contested, a bit rebelled.

"Come on, y/N, just one meal," he asked, with puppy eyes. You grunted and ended up accepting.

He guided you along the corridors of Hogwarts until you finally arrived at the Great Hall. Although everybody was still looking at you two, they didn't seem so shocked anymore. They quickly calmed down and got back to eating.

Reyna found your eyes from across the room — you tried to use your hands to signalize you were sitting with the Gryffindors. Your friend wasn't angry, though, because she had other friends to sit and talk.

"y/N, I present you to my friends," Fred said, pointing with his hand to the part of the table he wanted you to sit. He sat next to George, which you already knew, and you sat next to him right after. "Friends, this is y/N y/L/N."

"You are terrible at introductions" Hermione commented, her mocking smile widening.

Your eyes crinkled at the corners. "Right?" and then, turning to the rest of the table and not just Hermione, "Good morning, everyone."

Harry and Lee Jordan shook their head at your direction, opening their mouths in smiles, but Ron and Ginny didn't do anything. They kept on eating their breakfast, ignoring your presence. Fred noticed that you saw their reactions. "That was awkward, thanks, family."

You smiled, embarrassed. "It's ok."

Fred pulled his brows together but said no more. He started serving himself and you as well, which you were thankful.

Professor McGonagall passed just behind you and commented: "Everyone needed was informed about your situation, Miss y/L/N and Mr Weasley."

"Oi! Thank you, Minerva" Fred said, tilting his head in her direction. She almost reprehended him for using her first name but said nothing and just kept on walking until her table.

"Only I can call her that" you pointed out once she had left your earshot.

"Correction: not even you can call her that," he said, smiling at your expression.

When you looked away from Fred, your eyes met Ginny's. She tried to smile but stopped along the way.

"Are you friends with Malfoy?" she asked.

"Oh my God, Ginny, you can't just ask people if they're friends with Malfoy," shouted George, pretending to be worried. "But are you?"

"Not at all," you answered, making Ginny sigh, relieved. "He's just a pain in my ass most of the time."

"Can you not go back to 'asses'? We spend the whole afternoon yesterday about it," Lee Jordan interrupted. His comment made you laugh, and, soon enough, everyone was laughing.

Ginny seemed braver to ask you stuff, but you weren't offended, it was nice answering her doubts, and you hoped it would make her have a better view of the Slytherins. "Yes, we welcome muggle-borns to our house", "No, we don't talk to snakes" and things like that were some of your answers.

Ron didn't take long to start talking to you once he noticed how nice you were to his sister. Though his questions were more related to Draco Malfoy — and you didn't know much about him to give complete answers —, Ron was pleased with the information you were able to give out.

Hermione and Harry seemed happy with you; Harry, surprised to find such likeable Slytherin that didn't come from a family of Death Eaters — he had a rough past with those. Hermione was surprised when you told them your mom was a muggle-born.

"Yeah, mom was Hufflepuff," you informed, "Who would have thought she'd have a Slytherin daughter?"

Everyone laughed at your attempt to joke.

"What house was your father?" asked Harry, looking curious.

"He didn't come to Hogwarts, but Ilvermorny," you answered, forcing your mind to remember the things he used to tell you about the school. "Yeah, he's American."

Fred and George were excited about that news.

"He was... I believe it was a Thunderbolt. He didn't use to talk much about the school."

Fred tilted his head at your direction. "Use to?"

You weren't sure if you wanted to explain to everyone what had happened to your father, you didn't even want to tell Fred, but seeing that the rest of the table began to focus on the owls that were arriving with letters and other kinds of stuff, you decided to say something.

"He died when I was a kid" you whispered to Fred, making your answer short and giving no extra detail.

"I'm sorry," he said, with a sad smile and his wide eyes stared at yours, but you looked away, feeling you were about to be sad and that was not what you wanted after such enjoyable breakfast.

An owl found Fred, and he looked scared about it. "What is it?" you asked when he took the red envelope out of the owl's beak.

"It's a howler" he answered, down turning his lips.

You knew what a howler was, but you never received one — your mom was too much of an angel to send you one of those. She did, however, use to send you a three pages letter about how disappointed she was with you — she did that two years ago when you got three detentions in just one day.

Fred swallowed hard before opening his howler. What you thought it was his mom's voice came bursting and loudly — maybe even the Slytherins could be hearing that.

"FRED WEASLEY, HOW MUCH TROUBLE CAN YOU STILL CAUSE??" it started screaming. A lot of the kids around you laughed. "DO YOU WANT TO DESTROY THE SCHOOL?"

The screams kept on going while Fred listened to it rather patient. You were paying attention to every word until you owl — who were lost after she did not find you at the Slytherin's table — found you at the Griffindor's.

"Thanks, Aurora," you said to her, taking the letter and giving her a treat.

"Aurora?" Hermione was confused by your owl's name.

"Yeah, inspired in the Disney princess. My owl likes to sleep a lot," you said, and eating no more, you owl left, probably to do the exact thing you said she liked the most.

Hermione smiled, happy to hear you were a fan of muggles' movies.

Fred's howler hadn't stopped yet: "Tell that girl I'm sorry for her for putting up with you, but Professor McGonagall told me she is a good student that might put you in line. Oh! And tell Georgie to learn something with her as well!"

George and Fred stared at you, with confused looks.

"What can I say? I am a good student!"

"You're practically always in detention" pointed out George, who had seen you walking the corridors with Mr Filch a lot.

"But I have perfect grades," you remarked. Ginny giggled at your phrase.

"Is that another howler?" Fred asked, looking for the letter in your hand.

"Oh, probably not. Mom's not much of a screamer," you said, looking away. "No offence to your mom — she's seems wicked!"

"One would think that" Ron replied, making everybody laugh one last time before getting up and heading to class.

You carried your mom's letter to every class, not ready to read it yet. You and Fred had decided to attend only the best lessons of each other's schedule. For example, if you had Potions and he had Charms, you'd go to Charms. However, things didn't go as planned.

Dumbledore found you two after your first class and gave you a piece of paper with your new schedule — still a mix of both, his and yours, but in a more academic way than the fun one you and Fred had planned.

Disappointed, but not surprise, you and Fred headed to double class of Potions. You had no problem with Snape, but you had to admit he was not one of the most exciting teachers. Fred seemed to have a problem with him, but that was because Fred was a Gryffindor and Snape didn't really like that.

Lunchtime finally arrived, and you and Fred ran down the corridors to the Great Hall, because you were both starving after Snape made you both taste the Hunger Potion you had prepared at class — the requested one was a Felix Felicis. In your defence, that was an advanced potion that nobody in class managed to do.

Fred was heading towards the Slytherin's table when you poked him timidly "Fred?"

He stopped and looked down at you. "I wouldn't mind sitting with your friends" you continued, averting your eyes while your face turned as red as his hair.

Once he understood your words, he slowly opened a smile with no teeth and reached for your arm, which he squeezed during all the time it took for you to get to the Gryffindor's table.

"I told you you'd like them!" he said, still smiling. You gradually stopped being ashamed and started feeling happy.

Everybody from breakfast was happy to see you and started asking what were classes like with Fred around.

"Does he do anything at all?" Ron asked.

You giggled, "it's practically all me," you let out, receiving a fake punch to your arm from Fred.

Ginny arrived and sat at your left, eager to tell you everything she heard about you around the school. It was a lot of gossips, and eventually, you stopped listening. Students seemed to have invented the worse theories for your situation possible, you couldn't understand why.

She stopped to talk when the food got served, and you took that time to read your mom's letter.

"Dear y/N, How are you, sweetie? Minerva told me all about it. I don't understand why you insist on play pranks on the school, isn't being caught horrible? Back at my days, the most fun I had was throwing hidden parties maybe you should do that. She told me about the boy as well. If he comes to be too bad, please contact me, and I'll put an end to this. But, right now, it appears to be super wicked! I told Minerva you wouldn't feel it as much as a punishment — I was young once, and I know all I would give to be around a cute boy all day. Oh, how I know he's cute? His father has shown me a picture of every single one of his kids while on work; although I don't know which one of them you got tied up with, they all looked extra handsome in the pictures!"

The letter didn't stop there, but you had to stop reading once you noticed chuckles and fast breaths close to your neck. You turned your head immediately and caught Fred reading your letter over your shoulder.

"Fred!" you shouted, slapping his arms, but not hard enough so he wouldn't be angry.

"Sorry, you seemed concentrated, I wanted to know why..." he said, fighting laughs, "Please thank your mom for the compliment, I am truly handsome."

"Yeah, right!" you slapped him once more. George giggled from behind Fred.

"I'll stop! I'll stop!" he promised while you hit him.

"Good" you sighed, going back to reading, this time positioning the letter closer to Ginny.

Your mom went on about the new things she bought for the house and the new muggle movie she had watched. You were not interested to know those things, but you would never tell her so — she became such a lonely woman after the loss of your father, that you liked that she saw you as a best friend. Fred didn't try to read what she had written anymore, or at least, he was able to cover up.

The first week was the worst to get by — you sometimes forgot that Fred Weasley had to follow you everywhere around, like times when you wanted to go to the restroom, and you didn't warn him, making it impossible for the thirty minutes free to be used.

Classes were exciting at first, but then they turned back to the usual boredom. If you and Fred wanted to be free of the spell to enrol yourselves at the Triwizard Tournament and prank people again, you needed to behave. Professor McGonagall seemed to be approving your actions since she started to smile down at you from her time at dinners.

Scared of abandoning Reyna to your new Gryffindor's friends, and having to go back to her when it all ended, you discussed with Fred the possibility of having at least a meal in the Slytherin's table, so you could talk to your friend and find out how things were going. Reyna was happy to have you back — according to her, she did have other friends, but none of them was as good of a listener than you — and she ended up starting a friendship with Fred, glad for his spontaneous playfulness.

George decided to sit one day with you two at the Slytherin's table, and he and Reyna hit it off well, at least, better than you were expecting since George was shyer than his brother.

It didn't take long for each one of them from Gryffindor to sit at the Slytherin's table too. One day, Ginny ran to you to talk about a lesson she was having difficulties — and she wanted your help because Fred told George who told her that you were excellent at Charms.

Lee Jordan sat down one day, followed by George, to talk about how much he missed Quidditch, finding a fan amongst the table: Reyna. She had gone to every single Cup her father managed to buy tickets, and she could spend hours talking about the sport — apparently, so could the twins and Lee, because you had to call out their attention to go to classes.

One week before the binding charm deadline, you put an end to all that run the Gryffindors did to sit with you and Fred. You found Reyna walking in the Great Hall and reached her before she sat down with a proposition. "Reyna, it's ok if you say no, but why don't you come to sit with us at Griffindor's?"

She stared at serious before opening the biggest smile ever. "Really? Can I?" you shook your head yes, with Fred smiling right next to you.

"We'd gladly have you," he said.

"Then let's go!" she said, reaching for your hand and pulling it hard towards were Lee Jordan and George Weasley were sitting.

The harsh pull got you by surprise, and before falling, you reached for Fred's hand, dragging him with you. You three ran to the Gryffindor's table, all giggling. Fred couldn't stop looking at your hand in his, and thinking why hadn't he done that before. It felt perfectly fit and warm.

Reyna was more welcome at the table than you. As you once noticed, she could be a perfect Hufflepuff if not because of her powerful ambition. Reyna dreamed becoming the Minister of Magic, and you were sure she wouldn't rest until she got the job.

Hermione liked her a lot because of that ambitious side.

Ron and Harry were worried at first, probably because they were the ones there with the most resentfulness towards your house. However, Reyna managed to charm their worries away, playing with her hair now and then, you were sure the boys were falling in love. Lee Jordan, no doubt, awaited the same fate, as he was only able to flutter his eyelashes.

As faster as October had come, it was already about to go. They announced that the Beauxbatons and the Durmstrang would be arriving on day 30, so it would mean the end of the Binding Charm.

You didn't know how to feel. At first, you were relieved — Triwizard Tournament was about to start, and you had pondered an idea that you thought it could work to get in. Still, at the end of Transfiguration class, you were reconsidering your emotions. You would go back to your room — filled with conceited girls that you had no friendship what so ever. You'd miss Lee Jordan's remarks and nicknames for the students, and even Towler snore.

Ginny, Hermione, Ron and Harry were kids you'd be missing a lot. Especially Harry, who you noticed to have a rough life and you felt like hugging him for his innocence sometimes.

But, fundamentally, the ones you'd miss the most were the Weasley's Twins. They followed you to practically every class, and because you three shared a prankster spirit, most of the time you guys had the same ideas and the same jokes — even though Reyna was remarkable, she'd never think about cool pranks like the ones you and the Weasleys invented.

Not that you had put those ideas in practice either. You just couldn't risk McGonagall extending the duration of the curse.

Fred Weasley had grown in your concept — he was more than a boy seeking the best in life by the fun and no hard work. He had a big heart and was very sensible. Although he was always messing with Ron, he was a perfect older brother, paying attention to everything any of his younger siblings said.

He was no longer your rival, but a dear friend.

Would he still be your friend without a spell around?

Professor McGonagall pulled you two aside at the end of the class. "I just wanted to say," she started, with a whisper before the last student walked away and she raised her voice, "that I'll undo the Binding Charm tomorrow, after the Halloween's Feast."

You and Fred kept looking at her, neither of you with the courage to say something about it.

"I just won't be able to do it earlier, having to assist every guest for the Tournament."

"We understand," you said since Fred didn't seem ready to say a thing.

"Well, with that said... you may go. I believe our visitors are about to arrive," she gesticulated for the door. You and Fred slowly turned back at her and left, both very quiet about what you had just heard.

"What's wrong with you two?" George asked, approaching you in the middle of the corridor. All the students were gathering to see the arrival of the Beauxbatons and the Durmstrang, and they seemed very loud about it.

You and Fred exchanged looks, not so sure about how you were feeling. Could he be feeling the same confusion?

"Tomorrow night I'm back to my room," you said, trying to explain it easily. George looked from you to his brother, staying focused on Fred.

Reyna hushed at your direction, visibly excited. "y/N! Oh, Merlin, you have to have a look at the Durmstrang's boys!"

She pulled your hand, again forgetting that everywhere you were, Fred had to accompany. You turned to face Fred, letting your puppy eyes out and reached for his hand, that he was more than pleased to offer.

Reyna guided you to the crowd of students, walking in the Great Hall. "They'll sit at the Slytherins'! Should we go there?"

Lee Jordan found you four along the way. "Please, take us to your house table. Krum is among those students!"

George opined. "Don't do so, we won't' be able to get Ron, and you know how he is going to be," and even though Reyna and Lee wanted to go to the Slytherin's, they respected George's request, turning back to the Gryffindor table.

The group formed a line: Lee Jordan followed by Reyna who pulled you, who pulled Fred who talked to his brother. The place was way too crowded to walk with no trouble, so along the way, Reyna was telling about the boys she had liked the most. "There's one at Beauxbatons, tho..."

You didn't notice George and Fred talking about you from your behind, distracted by the volume of the conversations that surrounded you. But, whatever they were discussing, they ended it before sitting down at the table.

Ron was, as George predicted, frustrated with Krum to have sat next to Malfoy, but it didn't last long, due to soon enough he was charmed by a Beauxbatons girl that came closer to our table to get some food.

Dumbledore finally started talking, introducing Mr Crouch and Mr Bagman as two of the judges, as well as himself, Madame Maxime — from the Beauxbatons — and Professor Karkaroff — from the Durmstrang.

Mr Filch approached Dumbledore with a wooden chest encrusted with jewels. The Headmaster continued: "As you know, three champions compete in the tournament, one from each participating schools." He explained that they would give grades to the participants and the one with the highest total after the tree tasks would win. "The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire."

Dumbledore placed the goblet on top of the casket, where everyone could see it. "Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champions must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet," said him. "Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward."

The Headmaster then said — and he didn't even need to ask for silence, as everyone stood as quiet as they could — that the goblet would return the names of the most worthy tomorrow night.

"To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation," said Dumbledore, "I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once placed in the entrance hall."

Fred, George and yourself growled at that part, angry that the Headmaster was still going for that prohibition.

"There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion," warned Dumbledore, at last, finalizing his speech. "Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all."

"An Age Line!" Fred said, his eyes glinting as you followed him and the rest of the Gryffindors back to their Tower, leaving Reyna behind.

George suggested fooling the goblet with an Ageing Potion, but Hermione corrected him, pointing out that a student younger than seventeen wouldn't stand a chance. Fred and George ignored her comment and started pining over Harry Potter to see if he'd like to participate. The boy didn't answer.

Arriving at Fred's room, George seemed eager to talk to his brother but also scared to do so with you around. You rolled your eyes at them. "How much minutes we have left for today?" you asked Fred, wondering if there were minutes left from the thirty-minute break Professor McGonagall had given you.

"Perhaps a full five-minute break," he said, unsure.

"Perfect!" you said, jumping out of bed and heading out. "You have five minutes to talk to your twin, George."

You closed the door behind, only able to hear movements, but no words. There was no need, though. They were probably discussing how they'd put their names in the Goblet of Fire. What they didn't know was that, with five minutes free of Fred's fast eyes that read everything you held, you were also thinking of a way in for yourself.

You found Hermione still sitting at the common room, with books all around her. Noticing her friends weren't around her, you took the opportunity to ask her something.

"Hermione? Do you have a minute?" you asked, sitting on one of the chairs next to hers.

She looked up at you while you looked down to see what was she writing. It seemed to be about house-elves, but you didn't understand what she wanted to know about them that wasn't pretty obvious.

"Sure, y/N. What do you need?"

"I was thinking... Ageing Potion. Do you think it would be possible for one to pass Dumbledore's Age Line with one of those?" you asked, deep down already knowing the answer.

"No, I don't believe it could, Dumbledore is clever about those things," she said, looking up to think, "Perhaps Polyjuice Potion would be a better solution — disguised as someone else, you might be able to pass the Age Line."

You tried to follow her process of thought, looking down at your clock to see how much more minutes you still had.

"But then again, would the goblet take your name if it came from someone else?" she wondered out loud. "Oh! Perhaps Wingardium Leviosa could do the trick!" she exclaimed, happy with herself for thinking a solution.

"The Levitation Spell?"

"Yes! You can write down your name and levitate to the goblet! It's so simple though it might not work..." she said, getting said by the end of her phrase.

"But it might just do the trick! I don't think Dumbledore would expect a student to fly their name around..." you said, thinking more about it. You got up at the look of the time. "Gotta go, Hermione. But thank you, thank you so much!"

"You're welcome!" she shouted while you ran up the stairs, desperate to avoid being pulled by the spell.

You pushed the boys' dorm room in a quick move, looking at your wristwatch, thinking you would be able to make it in time and the spell would drag you in that horrible way it did the first time.

A crash sound echoed through the room and down the hall.

Fred Weasley, although very happy to have some privacy with his brother to talk about their Ageing Potion, was paying close attention to the time. He feared y/N would lose track of it and he'd be pulled to next to her with a harsh movement. He didn't like it the first time it had happened because it hurt a lot.

Therefore, when they had only thirty seconds left to be attached again, Fred decided to get out of the room and look for her. He pulled the door open with the last glance at the clock — five seconds.

And then, y/N was just at the other side of the door, but not close enough — the spell felt the need to push them against each other, and that was how the loud crash sound echoed. y/N's chest bumped to Fred's, causing the rest of the boys to laugh — the only one that didn't think it was funny was the one sleeping, Kenneth.

He quickly surrounded you with his arms, in fear of your fall. You held yourself up by supporting your weight around him. You could feel your face turning red, and you didn't want him to notice that the embrace made you embarrassed.

"Are you guys ok?" Lee Jordan asked from behind Fred, making you shrank, even more, blushing. Some laughs followed the comment, probably from George.

You swallowed before slowly letting go. Keeping your wrist close to Fred's, you stared at him, forcing him to lower his head. His eyes, wide and sparkly, stared at you with his lips pursed.

His embrace finally loosened, and you both walked towards his bed and the mattress. "Good night, guys," he said, in a mocking tone, filled with anger. One by one, George's and Lee's lights went off, and the room seemed quiet as ever.

But, over Fred's bed, all you could do was think, think, and rethink. You were only able to fall asleep way over three a.m., and by the look of Fred's face the other day — he had dark circles around his eyes, leaving him with an uneven tone, which probably could be seen in yours as well —, he hadn't had a good night of sleep either.

"Good morning to you two," George said while you and Fred got out of the common room and walked towards the Entrance Hall. It was Saturday, and you could have stayed in bed longer, but you were too thrilled about the Goblet of Fire to keep yourself inside.

When Fred noticed his brother and Lee's presence, he got a better look at his face, smirking a bit.

"Look away, y/N," he said, asking not so much politely. You rolled your eyes. As if you didn't know what they were about to drink! After drinking the potion, they hurried down the staircase, forcing you to run to follow them.

Harry, Ron and Hermione were already there, watching the goblet and talking with the people around it.

"Done it," Fred whispered to Harry, and you frowned from behind him. "Just taken it."

"What?" Ron asked.

You pressed in hand over your robe to feel if your paper was still there. You had hidden it there during the free time you got to take a shower.

"The Ageing Potion, dung brains," said Fred.

"One drop each," said George, rubbing his hands together with glee. "We only need to be a few months older."

"We're going to split the Galleons between the three of us if one of us wins," said Lee, grinning broadly.

"I'm not sure this is going to work, you know," Hermione warned, but in a more hostile tone than the one she used with you last night, "I'm sure Dumbledore will have thought of this."

Fred, George and Lee ignored her.

"Ready?" Fred said to the other two, holding a slip of parchment in one hand and grabbing your right hand with the other. It was nice having his warm touch, and you wondered if he did it just out of habit or because he missed it too. "C'mon, then — I'll go first —"

They tried walking in — Fred stretched himself out all the way, leaving you out of the circle and trying to put the paper inside. However, it didn't work — they landed painfully, dragging you around the ten feet fall.

Fred and George now had big white beards, and everyone was laughing at them. If the fall hadn't hurt you so much, you would have laughed as well. They noticed their new looks and joined in. You took the opportunity of their distraction to take your parchment out of hiding and cast "Wingardium Leviosa" with the lowest voice ever.

The paper flew around — being so small, not everyone noticed — but, although you moved your wand towards it, the parchment wasn't able to pass the Age Line.

"I did warn you," said a deep, amused voice, and everyone turned to see Professor Dumbledore coming out of the Great Hall, followed by Professor McGonagall, who looked furious.

He got closer to you all who were still sitting on the floor. " I suggest you both go to Madam Pomfrey."

"Oh, no, you wait a minute!" shouted McGonagall, stopping you in your way fo getting up.

Fred looked at you, scared.

"What was this? Do you three thought you could prank Dumbledore's Age Line?" she asked, but neither of you answered.

"Minerva, no need..." the Headmaster started, but McGonagall didn't let him finish.

"I'm sorry, Dumbledore, but those two —" she pointed to you and Fred "— are under my supervision. And I said no pranks!"

"What did I do?" you questioned, facing down to yourself, who had no beard or old look on your face.

"You — do you think I didn't saw that parchment flying alone?"

"Wingardium Leviosa? That was clever, could have worked," commented Dumbledore, in a fascinated tone.

"It was Hermione's idea" you informed the Headmaster.

Fred looked back at you for a second, as if his eyes were saying "you did that! Wicked!"

"So, forget getting free of each other anytime soon. I'm revoking it — how long is yet to be determined," Minerva said, pausing only to breathe. "Start being those behaved students you spent the month being and you might see yourselves free of this by the end of the school year!"

You and Fred exchanged looks, embarrassed for taking the lecture in front of everyone.

"Off you go, now!" she shouted, not just for you two but for the rest of the crowd that was forming as well.

You had to follow Fred to the hospital wing, most to Madam Pomfrey's dismay.

"What are you doing here? Allergies?" she asked.

"No, I'm with Fred Weasley, ma'am."

"You can leave now, dear, I'll cure him."

"No, Madam Pomfrey, see, I can't leave because..." you started saying, but she interrupted you.

"Are you the two dimwitted that caused Professor McGonagall one of her wost phases?" she asked, looking down at Fred, who sat at the available bed. "I've never seen that woman so angry — binding two students forever, what was going on in her mind?"

"I ask myself the same" you sighed, thinking that now, not only you weren't able to participate in the Triwizard Tournament, you also couldn't to go back to your old routine. Wasn't that what you wanted, though? Only one day ago? Now, you seemed to disagree.

***

Madam Pomfrey took her time to dis-age the boys.

Fred was lying still over the hospital bed, waiting for the medicine to work. So did George, on another bed, at your left. You were sitting on a stool Madam Pomfrey offered you after seeing this would take a while. She asked for someone to bring us sandwiches — since you hadn't eaten breakfast —, but now that it was over, you stayed there, pretty bored.

George couldn't stop looking at himself with the small mirror offered, looking for his face during the dis-ageing process. "Look, now I might be fifty!" he was very thrilled with the transformation.

Fred ate his sandwich at a slow pace, and once it was over, he stayed quiet, staring at the ceiling. Both of you had a lot to say, but no one had the courage.

"So... you guys are stuck together, huh?" George said, trying to break the silence, turning himself towards you and Fred. "Shouldn't matter that much — if we are not goin' to be able to be champions at the Triwizard Tournament, after all."

You stared at George. He had such a simple way of seeing things.

"We're not gonna be able to win best pranksters either," you pointed out, pressing your lips together while crossing your arms.

"We're not gonna be able to win apart," corrected George, "Maybe we can all win together."

"Not very likely. Besides, we can't prank anyone if we wanna be separated one day," you said, raising your cheeks.

"McGonagall doesn't seem to be in the mood to separate you two anytime soon," George replied, "so have fun or whatever. When school's over, she'll have to undo the spell."

Fred seemed rather quiet, staring at his brother's eyes like he wanted to say something but never coming forward with it. It annoyed you.

The boys were now looking like they could be forty, and you thought they look quite handsome.  Not that older guys were your type, but, yeah, Fred and George could be those sexy old actors that your mom insisted on being a fan.

"Well, I guess if I'm already in the kitchen, I can stand the heat," you said, sighing.

Fred looked at you, "Am I that horrible?"

"What? No! That's not what I meant!" you answered, desperate to undo the misunderstanding. "It's just..." you started but noticed you couldn't finish, not with him looking at you like that, not with the fact that just in two months you had more friends than in your whole life. "It's nothing; this hasn't been a punishment at all. You're right, George, we can have some fun together."

You tried to dodge his eyes to look at George, but you couldn't stop staring at Fred. He was getting younger by the minute, looking back like himself, and you couldn't be more glad. He had been your best friend in those couple of weeks, and you couldn't just trash it all because you rather be pranking the school alone.

"That's the spirit!" George said, looking back to the mirror in his hand. "Look! We're probably twenty-five now!"

Madam Pomfrey reappeared, hours later.

"You boys are free to go. You've been sixteen for quite a while now, but I wanted to make sure you wouldn't start getting younger," she said, and looking at your horrible face she added: "It happened before."

Fred and George got up, passing their hands over their faces, to feel the young texture they missed.

"Go, dinner will soon be served!"

"Well, that goes a day without doing a thing!" Fred complained, reaching for your hand to walk out of the hospital wing.

You were surprised but let him have your hand anyone — his touch was nice and firm, something you'd always welcome.

You were one of the firsts to arrive at Gryffindor's table. A girl, you saw her playing Quidditch before, was sitting and waving at you three.

"Fred! George!" she called out. The boys headed to her direction, sitting in front of her. "I've put my name in!"

"Really?" Fred asked, smiling. "That's wicked, Angelina!"

She seemed extra happy with boys approval.

"Oh! I guess I didn't introduce you two, did I?" Fred said, looking back at you. "Angelina, this is y/N; y/N, this is Angelina. She's from our Quidditch team."

"Nice meeting you, Angelina," you said, feeling your cheeks turning pink due to the attention.

"Nice to meet you too, y/N," she said, "I heard all about what you two did. I was in the girls' toilet that day — what a scare you gave me!"

Instead of sounding angry at you, she started laughing, and you and the boys joined in.

"Now I understand why you and Fred have been hitting off so well — you're practically the same!"

"No, we're not!" you quickly replied, used to being in defensive.

Anyway, you didn't think you were like Fred. He was taller, probably braver and more reckless. Besides, it was rare times when you got caught — except two years ago, that was a year of bad luck — and the boys were always running away from some angry professor.

Angelina didn't matter with your reprehension. She kept on laughing, focused on something George was telling her — by the looks of it, he was telling her about how hot he'll be at forty-five.

Harry, Hermione and Ron arrived finally and took a seat next to you and the twins.

"Hope it's Angelina," Fred told them.

"So do I!" said Hermione. "We'll soon know!

Everybody seemed impatient, eating fast to get to the part where Dumbledore would announce the champions. The students from the other school were all very fancy, but you could see they were anxious just like the rest of Hogwarts.

You didn't know who you were rooting for — you hadn't seen Reyna all day, so you had no idea, apart from Angelina, who had put their names in the goblet.

As Dumbledore got to his feet, the students all shut, paying attention to the headmaster's every move. He warned that, as he would be calling the names, the champions should get up and march to an indicated chamber where they would receive instructions.

The Goblet of Fire shone with his sweeping of wand, and everyone was watching — you could notice that Fred and George weren't even breathing in excitement.

Dumbledore caught the piece of parchment that fluttered out of the goblet and read: "The champion for Durmstrang will be Viktor Krum."

"No surprises there!" yelled Ron as a storm of applause swept the Hall. Fred looked back at you as you were the only two laughing at Ron's cheering.

Viktor Krum got up and walked towards where Dumbledore had instructed. Dumbledore continued: "The champion for Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour!"

A silvery blonde girl got up, to Harry's and Ron's enthusiasm. Aperantally, she was the same girl that had caught their eyes the night before.

The Beauxbatons didn't seem happy with the champion selected, as Hermione pointed out, but you couldn't understand why couldn't they cheer for their friend.

Dumbledore pulled the third piece of parchment — the room fell in silence. "The Hogwarts champion is Cedric Diggory!"

"No!" you thought you heard Ron say, but you couldn't be sure; every Hufflepuff was standing, clapping fervently and screaming as Cedric got up and made his way past them.

"Excellent!" Dumbledore called happily as at last the tumult died down. He kept on talking about how we should support our champions and cheer for them, but he suddenly stopped speaking as the fire of the goblet seemed to turn red again, rising upon it a new piece of parchment.

Every student looked confused, but no more than Dumbledore who held the parchment for a long minute before reading it out loud. "Harry Potter."

There was no applause. The whole Gryffindor table, including you, turned to stare at Harry, everybody shocked as the poor boy.

"I didn't put my name in," you heard him tell Ron and Hermione.

"Harry Potter!" Professor Dumbledore called again. "Up here if you please!"

The boy got up almost stumbling in his robes. You, Fred and George, followed him with your eyes — he was marching slowly, possibly not believing that his name got picked. At least, you and the Twins couldn't. You had tried the Levitation spell and the Ageing Potion — what could Harry have tried that worked?

Most of the Professors disappeared into the room Harry had entered and the ones left suggested for you all to return to your dorms. You looked around to everyone — they were whispering. However, so many of them were doing so that the volume started to increase.

Fred looked at you. "Did you know Harry put his name in?"

"No, I had no idea" you answered, only then noticing he wasn't asking you, but George, who was right behind you.

"No, nobody told me a thing" his brother responded.

Hermione and Ron where whispering non-stop, probably discussing how and why had Harry done that. Nonetheless,  there was a question you noticed nobody was asking, and you were very curious about it.

You gently squeezed Fred's arm, who glanced at you as he stood up.

"Fred, why are there four champions if there are three schools?" he seemed bewildered with your question, showing he hadn't think about that.

"Don't know," he said with pinched lips, "It seems weird, doesn't it? Like something is off?"

"Yeah..." you replied, looking away from him to take a glimpse at the Hall. The visitors had already left, and the Hufflepuffs were also gone — probably to organize a party.

Slytherins and Ravenclaws were the majority left — even Gryffindor was going back to their house common room — and they didn't look happy.

Fred reached for your hand again, and you noticed he was starting to do it without thinking — holding your hand had become a habit for him. You liked it.

George followed you two, with Hermione and Ron right behind. Aside from the remaining questions, they were thrilled with Harry Potter's participation. You and Hermione were the only two that showed some kind of worry for the boy.

Gryffindor's common room was unrecognizable, filled with all the students from the house, something very unusual for so late at night.

You found Reyna amongst the invited students from other houses. She had a cup in her hands and was talking to Lee Jordan in a corner; they looked focused on one another, so you decided not to disturb.

Harry finally entered the room with an astonished expression. Fred ran to his direction, dragging you with him — he hadn't let go of your hand yet.

"You should've told us you'd entered!" bellowed him, half annoyed, half impressed.

"How did you do it without getting a beard? Brilliant!" roared George, appearing from nowhere.

"I didn't," Harry said. "I don't know how —"

But Angelina had now swooped down upon him; "Oh, if it couldn't be me, at least it's a Gryffindor!"

Other girls started approaching Harry, who barely could breathe. You felt sympathy, but that wasn't much you could do to help — the most you managed to do was to keep the twins from continuing to harass the boy.

George began to serve you with some beverages and weird foods they had collected at some point, and even though you tried to dodge the things, you couldn't say 'no' to everything. You ended up drinking more than you should, feeling dizzy almost instantly. Fred had already released your hand, to get more freedom to hold things his brother and friends offered.

Reyna came closer to you in the middle of the night, and you hadn't even noticed her until she started speaking. "So exciting to have met Harry before he got selected! Well, I owe that to you. You have been, truly, a good friend lately."

You shook you head yes, regretting immediately to have done the movement.

"Are you ok?" she asked, worried.

"Drank too much. I'm not used to..." you paused, uncertain of what you had taken "whatever they served me," your friend started laughing.

"You should go to bed."

"I can't tho," you replied, "I'm attached to Fred, remember? And I don't wanna make him leave..." you stared at the boy mentioned, who seemed like he was having the time of his life surrounded by his Quidditch mates.

"y/N, I think he'll understand —"

"No, I'll just drink water," you interrupted her, "He is so happy, I won't ruin this for him."

Reyna didn't look very convinced, but she left to fetch you a glass of water anyway. She returned just some seconds later.

"It's juice — I couldn't find water."

She watched you drink it, making you uncomfortable. Could you be looking that horrible? You didn't think so. Yes, you were a bit dizzy and a bit slow, but you weren't unconscious. A part of your brain was still thinking about how Harry's name entered the Goblet of Fire even.

Reyna didn't leave you side, not even when Lee called her. She kept giving you juice and things to eat, but they didn't taste good.

Angelina and the other chasers finally disappeared in the crowd, leaving George and Fred behind. Fred eyes immediately met yours, and he began to worry.

"You didn't drink the whole cup my brother gave to you, did you?" he asked, touching your face with his right hand, trying to find a good light to analyze it. "I shouldn't have let him..."

"Don't look at me like that — you drank it too, and you don't look as perfect as before." Your words paralyzed him in place before he opened a smile.

"I did drink more than one cup, y/N."

"Oh," you sighed, frustrated with yourself. You noticed that Reyna ad finally left your side, and wondered if she went meet Lee. Do they have a thing?

"Come on, let's go upstairs," said Fred, "This party is dying anyway."

"No, I want you to enjoy yourself" you protested while he reached your waist.

"I've enjoyed myself enough. Believe me, tomorrow morning we'll both be looking terrible."

You blinked for what felt like an eternity. "I never look terrible, Freddie."

He froze at the second rung of the stairs to the dorm. Then he giggled and kept on going up, helping you. "Not a lie," he simply said, making you smile, but you thought he didn't notice because of how dark was at the stairs.

When you got to his dorm room, you could see, even in the dark, that someone was sleeping at Keneth's bed, and you assumed it was probably him since he never slept too late in the night.

Fred helped you to get under the covers of his bed, and that was the last thing you remembered of the night.

[writings-of-a-hufflepuff]

Scary Little Thing Called Love

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Hermione Granger

Fandom: Harry Potter

Summary: Fred and Hermione find themselves confronting feelings after a Slytherin in the halls is rude to Hermione. Fred isn’t happy, and finds himself ready to throw a few punches, but Hermione stops him, leading to a conversation that reveals a few truths. 

Warning: Wizarding racial slurs and body shaming comments. 

Rating: T

Notes: Hermione is plus size because that’s how I headcanon her and I can do what I like. Gif is mine, art is mine. 

Archiveofourown

“Oi, Mudblood! Yeah, you! Filthy, fat mudblood!” Even though it’s a shout Hermione barely hears it, the truth is she is used to the comments, the sneers, the blood purist bullshit. She is used to the comments that she has dirty blood, that she doesn’t belong, that she is tainted. She is used to the comments that she is fat, that the softness of her thighs, the width of her hips and the bulge of her stomach somehow make her an Other even more. In her 5th year at Hogwarts, her 5th year of the amazing magical world to which she belonged, she had long since gotten used to the comments and often barely heard them. They still hurt but she had learnt that talking back did little good, she couldn’t use her logic to change the minds of bigots and bullies, they simply wouldn’t listen and she wasn’t inclined to get into fights, not with the same quickness that both Harry and Ron seemed to. 

So you see it wasn’t the shout or the insulting words that made her stop in her tracks and turn back around, hand grabbing at the strap of her satchel, heavy with books, but rather a different voice, one she knew a little too well and was slightly deeper than it’s partner. Because this voice always came in a pair. 

“Why don’t you put a sock in it, Morley, or maybe I should do it for you?” She knows his voice far too well for her liking. At first her ability to tell Fred from George without even seeing a glimpse was something she prided herself on, another puzzle solved, another mystery checked off...and then she realised what it meant. That she had truly paid such attention to Fred that she knew it was Fred because in truth it wasn’t which is Fred and which is George, it was which was Fred. Her ability to tell the twins apart was solely based on her knowledge of Fred. Of his voice, his mannerisms, the placement of his moles and freckles, the way he held himself and wore his uniform. George wasn’t really George, he wasn’t Fred...it scared her a little, that at some point Fred had become Fred and not Fred and George, not just one of the twins.

He’s messily dressed as always, a million dress code violations coming straight to her mind from the way his tie is barely tied to the untucked white shirt that has at least 2 or 3 different burn marks on it. His hair is wild as always, shoulders the usual broad width, freckles stark and many against his skin, but his expression is one she isn’t particularly used to and has never been fond of. 

“I’d like to see you try Weasley, you can probably barely get your wand to work. Another hand-me-down? Besides, it’s not like I'm lying. Granger is a fat, filthy mudblood.” With each word the Slytherin, one she doesn’t even know, turns to her and smirks. It should make her angry, but it just makes her scoff. She has little energy for it any more, but it strikes her that Fred doesn’t appear to feel the same as her on the matter.

He looks terrifyingly angry, for someone who is often seen with a smile or a smirk on his lips, often heard with a laugh in his voice, and smile in his eyes, the glare sent towards the Slytherin is...unusual and Hermione thinks, rather unwelcome. 

She bridges the gap between the two of them, hands wrapping around Fred’s forearm, noticing how he’s clenching his fists tight enough that his knuckles are stark white. “It’s not worth it, Fred. Come on.” She gestures away with a tilt of her head and pulls at his arm, lightly, not enough to move him, but enough to make it clear she doesn’t want him to start a fight on her behalf. She doubted she’d be able to move him if he didn’t want to be moved, years of playing beater on the quidditch team had made Fred quite strong. 

His brown eyes meet her own for a few seconds as Fred contemplates whether he should listen or whether throwing the first punch or hex would be more satisfying. Hermione isn’t sure what sways him in the end, what makes him listen, but he begins to walk with her away from Morley even as he throws out insulting comments about Fred and her. She expects Fred to turn back around when Morley calls her a mudblood bitch, but he just clenches his jaw and walks a little faster, his pace has her almost running to keep up with his taller form. 

He walks her to a little alcove in the Transfiguration corridor, out of the way of any passing Slytherins who might have a few nasty words to say. His jaw is still clenched, shoulders tense the way she’s only really seen when he’s on the quidditch pitch before a swing of the beaters bat, there’s a redness in his cheeks but the sort that comes from anger rather than anything pleasant.

“Are...are you alright Fred?” Hermione realises that her hand is still on his forearm and goes to pull away but he reaches his hand forward to grasp hers. It...is unusual. Fred and her had never been the sort of friends, because years of knowing him surely meant they were friends, who held hands or hugged. There had always been a distance there, the occasional ruffle of her hair as he walked past to annoy her, or a hand on her back as he moved past. Nothing more, nothing less. 

She didn’t find it terribly unpleasant though. It was quite nice really, his hand was larger than hers, covered in freckles and scars.

“They shouldn’t talk to you like that.” He says it quietly, so entirely un-Fred like that she finds herself concerned. He is always loud, in fact Fred is often louder and bolshier than George. He rarely spoke gently or quietly, unless he felt he needed to for someone else’s benefit. She’d seen it a few times, particularly this year, often when he and George found a first year crying in the corridors after some sort of rough treatment from Umbridge. 

“It’s okay...I don’t really listen anymore.” She tightens her grip on his hand, combating the urge to twist and lock her fingers through his own. This is unusual as it is and she knows that if Ron or Harry found them they’d stand there bug eyed, jaws on the floor, mouths gaping open. Hermione and Fred didn’t hold hands, to most it seemed like they barely tolerated each other. She actually liked him...when he wasn’t testing on first years and trying her patience. She could admit that he was brilliant at magic, she could admit that his little smirks and smiles made her chest ache. She could admit that if they weren’t so diametrically opposed when it came to rules and education they might very well be the best of friends. 

“It’s not okay, Mione. It’s really not…” Fred pulls his hand out of hers and rubs his eyes with a sigh, she misses the feel of his hand in hers...it’s a disconcerting realisation. 

“Why does it bother you so much?” Tightening her grip on the strap of the satchel over her shoulder, Hermione isn’t sure if she wants to know. Will it hurt? Will it heal? Will his words reach that part of her that she’s been trying to ignore? Will that be smothered or awoken with renewed vigour? There’s an apprehension in her, a wait for his words, what might he say next. 

“Because...because I…” She’s never seen him struggle with words, Fred is a man of many words. He could talk the hind legs off of a donkey. With his wit, overly confident personality and Gryffindor bravery, he was rarely at a loss for words. 

“Fred?” There’s redness filling his cheeks, his neck, the tops of his ears. She is used to seeing it on Ron, whenever he’s angry or embarrassed or feeling something particularly strong. She’s seen it on Ginny as well, it appears to be quite the Weasley trait, but she’s unsure why it’s happening to Fred right now. 

“I care about you. That’s all.” What he really wants to say is that he thinks he might be in love with her; that she’s beautiful, passionate, intelligent, wonderful, even when she’s yelling at him. Especially when she’s yelling at him. That he thinks she should be treated like the brilliant witch that she is. That her parentage shouldn’t matter, that she’s brilliant because she’s muggleborn, that he lies awake some nights staring at the wood above his bed thinking about her, about how he wished he was braver. How he wished he could just be a Gryffindor and tell her. But, he can’t because of Ron, he tells himself, because Ron would be hurt and he couldn’t do that to him. In truth, Fred thinks it’s more because he’s terrified that she’d laugh in his face. She’s a prefect, brightest witch of her age, on track to being Head Girl. She’s beautiful, all soft curves and wild hair. He’s likely to drop out of school any minute, a joker, a prankster, not worth much if you asked most people. Trouble. She’s above him, out of his league in so many ways and he doubts she’d ever feel the way he does. 

“You’re my little brother’s best friend. I have to look out for you.”

“Well, if it’s such a chore then don’t bother!” She can feel her hackles rising, in a way only Weasley’s ever seem to manage. She refuses to be someone’s chore, to be cared for simply because someone feels obliged. She takes a step back from him, arms crossing over her chest and turning her back to him so that she can leave his presence. If she’s such a chore then she won’t stick around to bother him any.

“Wait! Merlin’s balls! Hermione!” She’s rather spritely despite her height when she wants to be and he’s chasing after her down the hall, pushing his long legs as fast as he can to catch her because he didn’t mean it like that. She’s not a chore. She’ll never be a chore. Even when she’s being frustratingly idealistic or overly rule abiding, she was never a chore for him. 

“I like you! Okay? I like you and I don’t like people being bloody shitty to you, okay?!” It does what he expects, stops her in her tracks. Feet stopping, skirt falling delicately around her knees, hair the only thing moving due to the slight breeze from open archways near the transfiguration courtyard.

He can feel the heat in his face, his whole body. He can feel the stares of random students who knew them by name and face only, eager to find some new gossip to spread around Hogwarts. By dinner time everyone would know that Fred Weasley had a crush on little miss prefect Hermione Granger. It bothered him, but not in the way he expected it to. He didn’t care that people knew that he liked her, he cared that people would judge her for it. That she’d be teased and picked on more than she already was. All because of him. If George had been there none of this would have happened, he only ever seemed to put his foot in his mouth with Hermione when he was on his own, unsupervised.  

She was silent, still and he found himself unable to stand the silence filling in the void, making things worse, no doubt. “I think you’re amazing...you’re smart, you have your beliefs, convictions and stick to them, you don’t let yourself be cowed. You’re bloody beautiful, even when you’re angry, especially when you’re angry. I wish i’d been there when you punched Malfoy, bet you were a sight…” He barely gives himself time to breathe, she’s still not turned to look at him and he can feel the stares on his back, there’s one particular Hufflepuff who looks overjoyed to be witnessing him make a fool of himself, “Look, I know you probably hate me, and Ron is...well, I know he’s your first choice and...and it’s okay, and I am putting my foot in it and it’s stupid and I should really shut up…” 

She lets him ramble not because she wants to but because she’s not sure she can actually unglue her feet from the floor, it seems totally outlandish that this is happening to her. That she, Hermione Granger, resident SWOT, is the one being confessed to right now and by Fred of all people. He’s...he’s better than her in so many ways. Sure, she’s smart and talented, but...he’s popular, funny, incredibly inventive with his magic, ambitious, and handsome…She’d rarely admit it, only when pressed by a few girls she trusted most, but Fred was incredibly handsome and she felt like she fell short in comparison. He should be going after someone tall and leggy, someone with perfect hair and impeccable taste in clothes, maybe someone part Veela. She thought back to girls like Angelina, like Fleur, how they seemed to fit right for him, how they were the opposite of her. 

But he wasn’t. He was behind her, rambling away. Saying all the things she’d always wanted to hear from someone. She knew she was difficult sometimes. She was a staunch abider of rules when possible, and when no threat to life was occuring. She was hot headed and stubborn, logical to a fault, sometimes to the detriment of her friendships. She knew she had walls up high around her, because it so often seemed that everything was a joke, that people made her a joke...this became especially noticeable in 3rd year when people started asking her out on Hogsmeade dates as a joke...it made her realise how little people thought of her. She was too swotty, too good, too logical or too stubborn, too big, too plump, too hard around the edges, too smart, or too right. She’d learnt to stop worrying about others but the wall had gone up. The wall that she could feel crumbling away as he rants nervous like she might turn around and laugh in his face. 

“But, I can’t have you hate me, ‘Mione. I...it’s fine if you’re not interested and I’d get it. I mean you’re...you’re too good for me and way out of my league, but please don’t hate me. I couldn’t stand that, I can take you laughing in my face though, if you want? I mean...i’d rather you laugh in my face then never talk t-” 

She’s never been one for running, sports, always hated P.E at primary school and certainly wasn’t a fan of Quidditch now she was at Hogwarts, but she could still move pretty fast when she wanted to. So fast in fact that her body was acting before her mind had fully caught up with what it was planning on doing. 

Fred is cut off by a soft body colliding with his, a mass of brown curls tickling his nose, his arms awkwardly held at his side as his mind takes some time to catch up with what’s happening. 

Hermione presses her cheek into his chest, arms wrapping as tight as they can around him. He smells like freshly mown grass, gunpowder, and something she can only and has only ever been able to describe as Weasley, like the Burrow on a cold winter’s night when the fire is roaring and Mrs Weasley has Celestine Warbeck caterwauling through the wireless. He feels like home, like safety and it’s a startling realisation that has tears welling in her eyes because Fred had always had her back, he always came back and smiled with a joke on his lips, no matter how many times she threatened him or told him off, no matter what. Whenever Harry and Ron weren’t talking to her for whatever bizarre reason he always made an effort to spend time with her, even if she rejected his efforts. He had always been there and had always in everything he’d done, shown that he cared...and she’d been oblivious or willfully in denial. She had spent so long adamant that the two of them were opposites in the worst sort of way that she’d never fully understood why she paid close attention to him or why she struggled not to smile around him.

“‘Mione?” Some of the sense comes back to him and he has enough to wrap his arms around her and enjoy this while it lasts. To enjoy the softness of her waist and the warmth of her pressed against him, the comfort he feels from her holding him tight. He knows it won’t last, but he’s determined to enjoy it while it does, leaning down to press his cheek against the crown of her head, despite the ticklish curls that attack him. She smells like Jasmine, old books from the restricted section, and something else that he’s not able to identify. 

“I’m not out of your league…” It’s mumbled into the grey wool of his school vest, so low he almost doesn’t hear it, but he’s so fixated on her that everything seems heightened. Every word seems louder, every twitch of her fingers on his back seems like a greater movement. 

He doesn’t know what to say, so he waits, holds her closer, tighter. “If anything you’re out of my league,” He’s about to protest because there is absolutely no way that he’s more deserving of her than she is of him, but she continues and doesn’t give him time to interject, “but I like you anyway...and...and i’m really glad that you like me too.” It’s shy, unnaturally so for Hermione, but he finds it sweet, the soft voice, the refusal to look up and instead keep her face pressed against his chest. 

It feels like his heart might actually burst from happiness, he’s prone to over exaggeration he is a Weasley twin after all, but...he’s never felt this sort of happy ache in his chest before, he’s been happy, he’s been excited, proud, a whole host of wonderful emotions...but this is different.

He pulls back from here, hands at her shoulders to push her away gently, just far enough so that he can actually look her in her eyes, cast his gaze across soft, round cheeks covered in red and a lip bitten between teeth. 

“Does that mean you’ll go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?” He asks this instead of something bigger because he knows Hermione, knows she’d run if he went too quickly, and asked her to be his girlfriend too soon. He knows her well enough to know that a date is intimidating but it’s something she can handle, a bite sized chunk of something new, rather than a massive banquet. 

Hermione’s hands pressed into his shoulders as she bit her lip, eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks as she looked down for a moment before meeting his eye with a wide smile stretching across her lips. 

“Yes, Fred...I’ll go with you to Hogsmeade.” There’s a brief pause where he knows he’s grinning like a mad man, but neither say a thing. It’s strange, navigating the waters between friendship and something else. He knows how he feels and he supposes he knows how she feels, but getting there, to that stage where this is normal and not some sort of strange fever dream is going to take time. 

The pause is broken by Hermione reaching up on her tiptoes, using the hand on his shoulder for balance as she places a delicate kiss to his cheek. He knows he’s bright red, can feel the heat burning in his face worse than the first trial run of fever fudge. But, he doesn’t care, wouldn’t care even if all his brothers and Ginny were stood nearby watching, pointing and laughing. He knows he’s smiling like an absolutely idiot, that that annoying hufflepuff is probably laughing into their hand about Fred Weasley and his stupid grin all over a little kiss on the cheek.

She’s red too, biting her lip to hide a smile as she takes a step back from him, and another, and another before turning on her heel with a shy goodbye and sweet wave. He watches her go with a silly smile and even after she’s turned a corner and he can’t see her anymore he’s still smiling. 

“Oi, Gred! What’re you smiling about?” He’s so caught up in the thought of Hermione that he almost physically jumps in the air when George ‘sneaks’ up on him. 

“Well, O’darling twin of mine, I have a date!” He grins wide, arms outstretched in a showman sort of fashion, knowing his twin will share in his enthusiasm. 

“Wait…” The wheels are turning in George’s head, he knows Fred has a little itty not so bitty crush on their resident bookworm, he also knows he’s been decidedly un-Gryffindor like in his attitude towards her and his feelings. It took him hours to just get Fred to admit that liking her wasn’t some sort of betrayal of ickle Ronnie-Kins. As much as George loved his little brother, he wasn’t about to let his twin back out of his feelings because his little brother couldn’t get his head out of his arse long enough to realise Hermione was right in front of him and yes, Ron, a girl.

“With who?” His twin has been, admittedly, cowardly about Hermione, and he doesn’t doubt for a second that he might have got the bright idea to ask some other girl out just to put his uncomfortably fond feelings to rest, as if that would even work. So he asks, because he knows his twin well enough to know he’s not above making stupid choices and decisions. 

“...Granger.” It’s uncharacteristically quiet, but George is used to that whenever Fred mentions Hermione and his feelings. His twin is unusually bashful and unsure about it all, but he can see the shine behind his eyes and the power behind his smile, he knows if it all goes well, to plan, that quiet will go and Fred will be as loud as he always is. But, for now, he smiles at his twin and claps him on the shoulder, making a terrible joke about their resident bookworm, because he’s happy for him...even if he worries he might not get as much of his time as before. 

All George ever wants is for his twin to be happy.

[peroxiideprincesss]

wonderful

pairing: ron weasley x oc

year: 4th

warnings: nothing really, just fluff. also i wrote this for myself thinking no one else would see it lmao.

also please note, this oc has a lot of character development, and one of the characters is another oc! for a little backstory, she’s oliver woods younger sister, she’s a ravenclaw and her parnets basically disowned her when they found out. she stayed with remus and dora and the burrow sometimes because her family knew them. but yeah, that’s a little backstory, now please enjoy :)!

(gif made by me!)

-

scarlet woke up bright and early on saturday. you may be asking why but she had a small date with ron weasley today. god, everyone knew. harry, hermione, draco, eva, fred and george(they wouldn't stop talking about it in the common room).

scarlet placed her feet on the blue rug, stepping out of bed as luna looked at her. she was up early. luna smiled at scarlet as she turned the pages of one of the many herbology books around the girls dorm. scarlet smiled backand walked over to her dresser, trying to find an outfit. the girl fished out a blue and yellow flannel, a nude turtle neck, and some black jeans.

scarlet grabbed her clothes and headed to the bathroom. cho was just coming out, she rolled her eyes at scarlet. scarlet was very confused. it seems like cho had became friends with all the mean ravenclaw girls and even some of the mean slytherins, leaving scarlet and luna behind. they weren't very close but it still hurt scarlet.

scarlet ignored cho, and simply walked into the bathroom, throwing her clothes off and getting dressed. she already got a shower the night before to save time. once she was done, she walked back to her dorm with luna, and sent an owl to oliver, her brother.

"Dear Oli,

    How's life? I haven't sent in owl in a few days but I got your letter. Today, I am going to Hogmade with Ron. Just a day with my best friend. Have you heard from mom? Or dad? Let me know.

Snape was talking about how you were so good in potions, saying I should be better. I think it's because I'm friends with Harry. Also, I heard you got the spot on the team! Good for you, I'll be coming to your next game in January. For now, I'll keep sending the letters.

Until next time,

Scarlet R. Wood."

she finished the letter in no time, looking up at the clock. 9:30. ron said to come down for breakfast at 9:35 but she decided to go a bit early. she grabbed her scarf and she headed down to the Great Hall, smiling the whole way.

when she got there it was about 9:33, she was early but it was alright. she saw that ron, hermione, neville, and harry were all out of bed. odd. harry always slept late, maybe it was for training? scarlet didn't question it too much because she was now sitting right next to ron.

"hey, you're early." ron smiled, harry rolled his eyes. why was he was jealous? he liked cho. "of course i am, i'm always early." scarlet replied, taking some pancakes from the table. ron smiled. "i guess you're right.." he replied awkwardly. "well, i've gotta go to hagrids for tea..i'll see you guys later." harry spoke, fixing his glasses. everyone nodded as fred, george, and evanora malfoy came to the breakfast table.

"hey ron! do you remember the protection spell we gave ya?" fred asked, winking. "shove off, fred." ron replied, his face as red as his hair now. scarlet laughed softly. "ronald, you're not embarrassed, are you?" hermione asked, ron rolled his eyes at her. ron was embarrassed but scarlet found it cute. she smiled, and kissed his cheek lightly, making ron even more embarrassed.

-

ron and scarlet walked to the entrance of hogsmeade, scarlet anxiously grabbing his hand. ron smiled. "sorry..i'm just a bit nervous. i heard cho is going to be here....she hates my guts." scarlet chuckled softly. ron nodded softly. "she's a bloody bitch." ron mumbled softly as scarlet began walking towards the candy shop.

as the pair arrived, they spotted luna and neville. the pair was buying some chocolate frogs. scarlet smiled at the pair as ron ran to acid pops. he loved those things, and scarlet had no clue why. "hey ron, why do you like those so much?" scarlet asked coming up behind the boy. he jumped slightly. "you scared me!" he laughed but then shrugged. "but i'm not sure, scarlet. why do you ask?" "i don't know, just curious. ooh! jelly slugs!" scarlet smiled, walking over to the slugs. ron laughed. "you're so odd." he smiled, picking up two packs of the slugs. ron also had about four acid pops.

the pair made their way over to chocolate frogs, ron smiling like a fool. he loved chocolate, and so did scarlet. "how many do you want?" ron asked. "four is fine, i can pay for them. oliver sent me about 50 gallons." ron's eyes went wide. "50? merlin!" ron laughed, hanging her four of the frogs.

-

they paid for their things and decided to go get some food and butter beer with harry and hermione who ended up coming later on.

ron and scarlet walked into one of the restaurant that actually allowed younger people in it. harry and hermione were already there. ron waved at them, walking over to the pair.

harry forced a smile onto his face as he noticed the pair holding hands and hermione sighed. "you've gotta move on, harry. i heard ginny likes you." hermione spoke. harry rolled his eyes. "i like cho." harry replied quickly. hermione looked at him with that look. "fine, i still like her. but not as much as i use to. it just hurts to see he-" harry stopped when he saw the pair inches away from the table. they hadn't heard anything, which was a good thing.

"hey guys." scarlet smiled, looking over at ron briefly. "hey, how was your day so far?" hermione smiled wiggling her eyebrows. scarlet laughed. "oh hush. we've only been here for 35 minutes. we've only went to the candy shop. we're gonna go to the bookstore after this." scarlet replied to the comment.

ron was quiet, which wasn't normal for him. scarlet picked up on it, quickly, too. but the waiter came quicker than normal, so she hadn't gotten the chance  to ask what was up with him until after.

"hey, what's wrong?" scarlet whispered to the boy while hermione and harry were distracted. "nothing, i just feel bad about the whole harry situation. i shouldn't be such a git about everything." ron admitted. scarlet nodded. "hey, love, don't feel bad about it-" scarlet stopped, she had realized she had called the boy love. ron turned bright red, but scarlet continued her statement.

"we all make mistakes, as cliché as it sounds, we really do. now, cheer up. please." scarlet smiled as she directed her attention back hermione who was telling us about fred asking her to the ball.

-

it was now 8:45pm, and all the kids were making their way back to the castle. ron and scarlet walked hand and hand laughing. "oh my god, once! once-let me tell you about this-" scarlet said in between wheezes, "my dad always wanted oliver to fly like flawlessly- so he'd take him outside to practice, and one day oliver fell off his broom and the broom hit my dad in the head so hard-" the pair laughed as harry looked on with jealousy.

"harry, you really need to realize scarlet doesn't feel like same. she obviously likes--no loves—ron." hermione mumbled. "i know, i know hermione. i think i'm gonna ask cho to the ball." he smiled. hermione smiled too. the pair didn't know that cho was with cedric.

"one time fred shit his pants." ron wheezed. scarlet spat one of her gummi slugs out at the comment. "when he was 10." ron continued. "no fucking way!" scarlet laughed harder, hanging ron a gummi slug.

-

ron, scarlet, harry, and hermione all plowed into the common room, everyone laughing. it was a great day. "hey guys, i had fun but i've really gotta get back to my dorm." ron frowned. "uhm..why don't you just stay here? you can sleep on my bed or something." ron spoke awkwardly. "okay—okay fine, but i've gotta write to my brother in the morning." scarlet agreed.

ron lead scarlet to the dorm. everyone had separate dorms with one other person. sometimes, they didn't even have another person. scarlet smiled at the smell of the room. pine, mint, and flowers. it was wonderful. she had been in his dorm before but it didn't smell this good. maybe she was just distracted.

"do you wanna go to bed now?" ron asked, a smile on his face. "sure." scarlet spoke, returning the smile. "can i borrow some clothes from you?" she added. ron blushed before mumbling an "of course."

he handed the girl some red pj pants and grey shirt. she nodded and went into the bathroom connected into the dorm. she slipped her other clothes off, taking her rings and necklace off, sticking them in the pocket of her jacket. she slipped the pants on before putting the shirt on and returning to ron.

when she came back ron was laying on his bed, smiling and looking up at the ceiling. scarlet smiled at the boy again, walking over to the small bed and laying down on her, her head laying on the boys chest. ron blushed softly, as he awkwardly wrapped his free arm around her figure.

"thank you." scarlet mumbled softly, closing her tired eyes. "for what?" ron inquired. "today, silly." she chuckled. "you're welcome. but thank you even more. i had such a fun time.." he smiled, tempted to kiss the top of her head. but he was too nervous.

"scar, do you wanna go to the ball with me?" ron asked, confidently. "y-yes! of course!" she smiled, flipping her body so she was facing the boy. he smiled and cupped the girls cheeks gently, kissing her. scarlet smiled, wrapping her legs around the boy's waist. ron's face heated up as he realized what she was doing.

he had no problem with it, it wasn't a bad thing at all. it was just terrifying, for both of them. but even while thinking this, they kept kissing each other, sloppily, though. scarlet pulled away, placing her forehead up to the boys.

"you're wonderful, ron weasley."

[ofstoriesandstardust]

“actually... I just miss you” with Draco pls ?? 💕💕💕

A/N: Hey guys! I’ve been reblogging prompt lists the past couple of days in the hopes someone would request something for Harry Potter and guess it paid off. Was very excited to see this prompt in my inbox this morning and I’ve been planning it out all day. I’m trying to get out of my HP funk and write all the other million requests in my inbox but until then, here’s this. As usual, your House isn’t stated, so just whatever is your actual House. 

Prompt (from this prompt list): “Actually… I just miss you.”

Word Count: 1,541

We’re Ok

Your POV

Your 5th year at Hogwarts had been a whirlwind. From the arrival of Dolores Umbridge to the formation of the DA to studying for your O.W.L.s to Dumbledore leaving Hogwarts, you felt like you couldn’t catch a break. Time never seemed to stop or slowed down and you found yourself realizing you hadn’t eaten a meal in days or spoken to your boyfriend, Draco Malfoy, in a week. Which is the situation you currently found yourself in. You had spent the last two weeks living in the library as you had a huge Charms revision exam coming up, one that was meant to prepare you for your O.W.L. test. You and Hermione studied day and night, determined to do well. However, it wasn’t as if your boyfriend had been doing much better. Although he wasn’t studying as nearly as much as you had, he was still studying and in between that, he was running around attending to Umbridge’s every wicked need. Merlin, you hated that wretched woman. Part of the reason you joined the DA was to fight back against her. You had sworn your secrecy to the trio and they were happy to have you. For months you had hidden it from Draco, causing arguments and your boyfriend to doubt your faithfulness to the relationship, which was absolute ludicrous. When the DA got busted, things reached a boiling point and you had a screaming match that left your throats raw and your relationship on the brink of no return. The two of you had spent the last month or so barely spending enough time together to still be considered dating. Sure, you were still upset that you were going to take a side, the right side, in the war that was quickly coming and you were upset that he accused you of cheating but above all, you missed him. Walking away from your fight hurt like hell and the thought of losing him was even worse. Which is how you found yourself staring at the contents of one of your books, but not absorbing any of the information on the page in front of you. Your mind was too busy whirling with the recent escapees from Azkaban and the dynamic change in your relationship with Malfoy. Next to you, Ginny, Fred, George, Harry, Neville, Ron, and Hermione sat around laughing at some snarky comment Ginny had made. It was lunchtime on a Saturday and instead of actually eating and enjoying time with your newfound friends, your mind was wandering. Seamus and Dean sat across from you, trying to coax you out of your daze. Eventually, you handed them the book and reached for some food. A break wouldn’t hurt, especially since you weren’t achieving any actual studying. As you begin to eat, someone sat down across from you, causing you to look up. Draco. He looked mildly uncomfortable and the entire group shifted away from him. “What?” You mumbled, a mouth full of food. 

“Charming.” One of the twins stated, smirking. You lobbed a carrot at his head and he ducked, just barely missing. 

“What do you want?” turning your attention back to your boyfriend. Your words came out harsher then you had intended them to and you couldn’t miss the way he flinched. 

“Nothing, I just… just wanted to ask you if you wanted to come with me to Hogsmeade next weekend. It’s been a long time since we’ve really spent time together.” He asked, offering you a small smile. As tempting as the offer was, you shook your head. There was studying to be done. All fun could wait until after your O.W.L.s. At least that’s what you told yourself as you saw the way Draco deflated. “Are you sure you’re really studying? Because I mean-”

“Yes, I’m really studying. Unlike you, I actually have to work for my success. It’s not all just handed to me on a silver platter from Mummy and Daddy remember?” You snarked and the twins raised their eyebrows at your response. “Anyways, me and Hermione are studying next weekend, right Mione?” You asked. She nodded and opened her mouth, probably to give confirmation but instead noticed the way Ron was still shoveling food into his mouth and gave him a disgusted look.

“Ron, do you ever stop eating like some sort of… pig?!” You sighed as the entire table erupted into laughter. 

“Whatever.” Draco muttered as he stormed off. You sighed and put your fork down, rubbing your eyes. Hermione offered you a sympathetic smile. You shook your head and grabbed your book. 

“Where are you going?” Harry asked as you stood up from the table. 

“‘M not hungry anymore.” 

-

A few days later, you sat in the library, yawning. Classes were over for the day but you were stuck revising for Ancient Runes when all you really wanted was a nap. Hermione had ditched you for the day, instead choosing to hang out with her friends in their Common Room. You were moments away from calling it quits and crashing right there on the table when you spotted your boyfriend looking for you. You closed your book as he sat down next to you. He immediately leaned in next to you and you wrapped your arms around him. You ran your fingers through his hair as you closed your eyes. Despite all your anger, you truly had missed this, missed him. “Everything alright love?” You asked. He shrugged, not responding. You sat there for a few more minutes before you decided that you really needed to get up and take a nap, otherwise, you’d fall asleep with your boyfriend cuddling you right there in the library. Then Madam Pince would have your head and you did not want that. You pulled away and begin to pack up your things. “Alright, as much as I’d like to continue this, I need a nap.” You said as you yet again yawned, further proof you really needed some sleep. Draco seemed to deflate a little more and he nodded solemnly. You stood there in silence for a few moments and then sighed. “You can come with me if you want.” You offered, and he looked up at you. For a moment you thought he was going to tell you no and you waited with bated breath. But then he nodded and he took your outstretched hand. You didn’t talk much on the way back to your dorm but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. As soon as you got to your dorm, you crashed on to the bed, dropping the books right next to you on the floor. Draco was more hesitant to follow but eventually crawled into the bed next to you. You curled right into him and he carded his fingers through your hair. You began to doze at the feeling and soon you were asleep. 

-

You blinked your eyes as you came back into consciousness. You realized it was somewhat darker in your room than when you had fallen asleep and meant to roll over, but couldn’t due to Draco’s arms still wrapped around you. He seemed to be lost in his train of thought and he looked mildly upset. You shook your head, telling yourself it was just because you were still tired. “What time is it?” You asked, successfully shaking Draco from his thoughts. He looked down at you. 

“You’re awake.” He smiled softly. You yawned yet again and nodded. 

“Yeah, I haven’t been sleeping much lately.” To be completely honest, when you weren’t staying up until the wee hours of the morning studying, your mind was plagued by this situation with Draco. It was at that moment you realized that this was the closest you and Draco had been in months. “Studying and all.” He nodded, his gazing moving to stare off into space again. His fingers continued to run through your hair and with his other hand, he drew small circles on your knuckles with his thumb. “So, uh, hey, I have a question for you.” You asked hesitantly, pulling his attention back to towards you. He nodded, signaling you to continue. “Is everything ok? You just seemed upset earlier in the library today.” And you haven’t sought me out for support in months. He shrugged and cleared his throat. 

“Actually… I just miss you.” He said softly.

“I’ve missed you too.” You stated, looking up at him. 

“I’m sorry. So sorry for the stupid fight. I’m sorry I accused you of cheating on me, which I know, is absolutely ridiculous, and I am sorry for not understanding where you were coming from but I just got so scared and I didn’t want to lose you. I know that’s no excuse but-” 

“Hey, hey, I was at fault too ok? I put in you in a comprising position and I know we’re both just terrified of this war that’s coming, no matter what side we choose. I am sorry too. But we’re ok, and that’s all that matters.” 

“We’re ok?” He asked, his eyes searching yours for the confirmation that you were indeed ok, that you weren’t going anywhere, that he wasn’t going to lose you. You nodded. 

“We’re ok.”

[dragonpoxsurvivor]

Jelly and Pudding 2/3

Part 1

ao3 link

It didn’t take Dean long to realize that once he learnt that he might fancy his best friend, it wouldn’t be as easy to be around him as it used to be. He caught himself staring at Seamus more often than he should and if earlier he paid a lot attention to the Irishman, now he was paying enormous amount of attention. He couldn’t help it really. It was as though he lost control over his eyes.

For example. Right now Seamus’ fingers were carefully holding his wand, as he was examining if he had done any damage to it through most recent explosion and Dean couldn’t help but stare. It was mesmerizing really. And the thoughts how would it be to hold those fingers, those hands in his own were echoing in his head constantly. Seamus always had  warm hands.

“Hey, Dean.” said Seamus, eyes still fixed at the wand. Dean hummed in reply. “Don’t ye think that Hogwarts should have, like, a bank of spare wands? Ya know, just in case?”

With all his inner strength Dean made himself turn away his gaze. The fire was burning in the fireplace, filling the room with pleasant light..

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s a good idea…” replied finally Dean, smiling a little bit. It was incredibly domestic moment and enough though there were other people in the common room, for him it felt like it was only Seamus and him.

“‘Cause ye know… What happens if a kid breaks a wand or somethin’?” Seamus pondered out loud.

“Or you? You mean what if you break your wand?” snorted Dean, glancing at Seamus with the corner of his eyes. Seamus’ pale face instantly lightened up with red colour.

“Shit happens, Dean.” Seamus mumbled finally and Dean laughed. His heart started beating faster when he noticed that Seamus moved a little bit closer to him. His arm gently brushing against Dean’s. Mentally, Dean cursed the Hogwarts uniforms for being so thick and long-sleeved.

Time ceased when Seamus rested his head on Dean’s shoulder. His skin was so warm, that Dean could feel it even through the layers of clothes. Ginny often rested her head like that but it was completely different than with Seamus. He knew that his friend had never avoided physical contact but even since Dean realized his terrible crush his heart skipped the beat against his will.

Dean gulped, praying silently that Seamus didn’t hear the loud beating of his heart.

“Hey, Dean?” Seamus asked again, this time his voice a little bit more quiet, almost a whisper.

“Hm?”

“Do you think that if I broke my wand, I could use yours?”

Dean blinked hearing this question. It was definitely unexpected.

“I mean, sure. Why not?” Dean tilted his head a little bit and quickly realized his mistake as his cheek touched Seamus’ hair. It was soft like a pillow and fluffy like a feather. And smelt fantastic too.

Seamus shifted a little bit on his spot, head not moving away from Dean’s shoulder. His nose brushed against the small patch of bare skin above the chocolate collarbone. Dean shivered, breathing suddenly became hard.

“I just… I heard that if two people are close, they don’t have troubles with using each others wands smoothly and now since yer with Gin…” mumbled Seamus quietly.

Dean bit his lips, trying to muffle a sigh. Yes, that was true. He was with Ginny but recently he kept asking himself how much longer this relationship would last. It was pretty obvious to him that Ginny had her eyes on somebody else, not to mention that Dean himself was pining after the very person that was leaning against his shoulder. Not that he was going to tell that.

“Ginny and I may be a couple but you are my best mate, Shay.” said Dean carefully, his heart ready to break out of his chest any moment soon.

He felt Seamus’ lips stretching in a smile. Dean could see it all in his head- him moving a little bit away, only to bring his hands to Seamus’ face, taking a moment to appreciate the smile and adorable blush on his cheeks and leaning forward to place a tender kiss on his lips. He quickly shook his head, trying to chase away the fantasy and apparently Seamus took it as a sign to move away. He rubbed his eyes and yawned, opting not to comment more.

“‘m a bit of tired…” murmured Seamus in the middle of another yawn. “You goin’?” he asked motioning towards the staircase leading to the dormitory.

Dean shook his head. “Not yet.”

“‘Kay. Goodnight, mate.” Seamus said, gently patting Dean’s shoulder. His fingers lingered for a split of a second longer than they should.

“Yeah, goodnight Shay.” replied Dean, fighting the urge to turn around and watch Seamus back disappear upstairs. “Have a sweet dreams.” he added with the tiniest whisper, making sure no one else in the room heard him.

---

The evening was sunny and Ginny and Dean were causally spending time outside of the castle. The Giant Squid was lazily hovering above the lake and the sky was randomly patched with white, fluffy clouds. There was still some time left until the sunset. Ginny was skipping through pages of the Transfiguration book and Dean was sketching in his sketchbook, thoughts far away from where he was.

“Dean, we have to talk.” Ginny said suddenly.

“We do?” asked Dean absently as he was just wondering if he should include Seamus on the sketch or devote him whole ,separate page.

“Yes, we do.”

“Oh, okay.” hummed Dean, deciding that perhaps sketching his best friend while spending time with his girlfriend wasn’t in a good taste.

Ginny’s fist made contact with Dean’s shoulder.

“Hey!” groaned Dean rubbing the place. “What was that for?” He promptly closed the sketchbook and put it aside, resting his arms on knees.

“For not paying attention to me.” Ginny wrinkled her nose. She looked really cute like that but at this point Dean certainly got used to that sight. “Dean, we really need to talk.” she repeated herself.

“Okay, I’m listening.” agreed Dean.

“No, you don’t get it.” Ginny shook her head. Ginger hair were waving on the wind, like an orange flag. “I want you to speak a little bit.” her lips broke into a crooked smile.

“I’m not the talkative type, Ginny.” Dean said softly. That was true no matter if it was with Ginny or Seamus, he prefered to listen to the conversation rather than talking himself. “You know that.” he reminded quietly and reached out to gently caress Ginny’s cheek.

“Oh, really? You don’t wanna talk?” Ginny moved away slightly and Dean’s hand fell down. He frowned with surprise.

“It’s not that I don’t want to. I just-”

“Not even about Seamus?” Asked Ginny with a smug smile. “Because I think we should talk about him.”

Dean felt the blood started rushing through his blood. Did Ginny fell into Seamus after all? He was almost sure that her secret crush was Harry but then, she often glanced at Seamus too. Especially when she thought that Dean wasn’t looking. But here was the thing- Dean was looking at Seamus all the time. Especially recently.

“What about Seamus?” Dean asked stiffly. He tried to cover the shaking of his voice but from the look on Ginny’s face it appeared that it didn’t go well.

“How do you feel about Seamus, Dean? Please tell me.” requested Ginny but in Dean’s ears it sounded more like an order than an ask.

The adrenaline filled his veins. He had to phrase this in a right way. He was almost sure that his crush was practically unable to notice with a plain eye but facing a question like this… He had to be careful.

“Well,” Dean started hesitantly, fingers playing anxiously with the hem of his robe. “Seamus can be a pain in the ass, you know? He keeps stealing my socks for some reason and don’t even get me started how he set my pillow on fire. I still have no idea how he managed to do that! Many claim that he’s a terrible student but that’s not true. He can be really passionate about something if he likes it! But, he could for real study more from time to time… I still have no idea how he passed OWLs!” Exclaimed Dean, coming back to their sleepless nights during which they were supposed to study but in reality Seamus was rambling about Quidditch. He smiled to the memories in his head. “But overall… Seamus is great friend. Couldn’t ask for a better one. He’s very honest, funny of course but also trustworthy and surprisingly good at keeping a secret…” he finished and looked at Ginny who was smiling playfully. Dean gulped. After all, all he did was saying the truth so why…

“Does he know your secret Dean?” Ginny tilted her head a little bit.

Dean’s eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, you know. The Secret.” emphasised Ginny, “You fancying him.”

Suddenly, Dean’s lunged felt too tight for the amount of oxygen he needed. His eyes widened slightly as he tried to calm down his breath and heart beat.

“Why- how did you-” he stuttered, watching Ginny carefully. “What made you say that?”

Ginny laughed loudly but there was no hint of irony nor cruelty in her voice.

“I’m not blind, Dean. It wasn’t so hard to notice. You have eyes on him all-the-time!”

“But why didn’t you tell me earlier?” Dean drew the air into his lungs loudly. There was no point in pretending anyway. He was a terrible liar and there was no man who could fool Ginny Weasley.

“And how long since you’ve realized that?” she asked, raising her eyebrow. Dean shrugged and turned away his gaze. “See? How could I tell you that?” Ginny summed up. “Besides, I really like you, Dean. Maybe not necessary in a romantic way. Not anymore at least but still. It would be cruel of me to tell you before you realized yourself.”

Dean hunched his shoulders. The grass was soft under his fingers and scent of wind fresh and relaxing. This is not how he planned to do that. He was a gentleman. He wanted to break up in much different situation.

“So what now?” he ask quietly, feeling that he already knew the answer.

“I suppose, there’s not point in us staying in this relationship. I must admit that… Well, that’s not important now.” Ginny shook his head. “But still, I think that I could do you one more favour.” she grinned widely.

“What do you mean?” Dean’s head snapped up.

“Well… here’s the plan…”

---

“Dean I’ve told you so many times!” Ginny yelled angrily. “Stop helping me walk through the portrait hole!”

Dean made a note that later he had to congratulate Ginny on her acting talent. Instead however, he growled out loud.

“I didn’t do anything!” he raised his hands defensively. The eyes of all people in the common room were on them. On the arguing couple. For a split of a second Dean’s eyes met Seamus’.

“I’m perfectly capable of walking, Dean. Not that you’ve ever noticed!” The red haired girl raised her finger pointing at Dean.

“What is your problem, Ginny?” Dean groaned, capturing her wrist with his long fingers, struggling a little bit to hold her still. “I told you. I didn’t do that!”

“Oh, so it was wind who pushed me?!?” laughed Ginny angrily. Few people in the room flinched. Ginny’s angry laugh was one of the most terrifying sounds. She pushed away Dean’s hand in perfectly smooth movement. They had been training that gesture a couple of times.

“I don’t know! Maybe?” Asked Dean in a very mocking manner.

“You-” sneered Ginny, her eyes narrow, brightened up with the inner fire. “Don’t you dare! Do you think I’m stupid?”

“That’s not what I-”

“You know what?” Ginny straightened up and looked Dean straight into eyes. “I don’t care! We’re done! Thank you very much, Dean Thomas.” She declared, quickly turned on her heels and walked out of the room through the portrait hole.

Dean blinked a few times, trying to “understand” what had just happened. Ginny’s hair disappeared behind the corner like a red, alarming flag. Dean sighed, this time honestly. His gaze dropped on the floor. Even though, it was just an act, a friendly favour, it still felt a little bit painful. Not to mention that the supposed drama happened in front of at least the half of his house.

Suddenly, someone tugged the sleeve of Dean’s uniform. His eyes traveled up. Seamus was shyly smiling at him. His icy blue eyes glimmering with uncertainty.

“Do you want to talk about it, mate?” he asked nervously. “Ye know that I’m not good in this kind of stuff but-”

“Seamus.” Dean stopped him in the middle of the sentence. He rarely spoke when someone else was talking.

“Yea?” Seamus’ fingers slipped of the hem of the uniform, slightly brushing against Dean’s hand, sending a pleasant shiver down his spine.

“Let’s just get the hell out of here.” suggested Dean anxiously. Silently chanting to himself that it didn’t have any romantic undertone. Just two friends hanging out. They had done this so many times before. But now, both of they were very single. Or at least as far as Dean’s knew.

“It’s yer call, mate.” Seamus grinned widely and Dean couldn’t help but mirror the expression.

Part 3

[sweeethinny]

The One - Chapter 1

Finding your soul mate is like entering a home you've been to - you'll recognize the furniture, the pictures on the wall, the books on the shelves, the things in the drawers: you are able to locate yourself in the dark if you need to - I’ll Give You The Sun (Jandy Nelson)

Because when Harry realizes that Ginny is The One, he needs to do something about it. Even if it is risky, because his godfather always alerts him; "What is a life without a little risk?"

(this gif is obviously not mine. All credit to the wonderful creator)

a few days ago I was asked if Harry would have paid attention to Ginny before, if James and Lily were alive, and since then, I haven't stopped thinking about it. It will be a short fanfic, I believe, without many plots or anything, just a light story of teenage romance, there are already too many bad things in real life. In this story, Peter and the other marauders are not so close anymore, Sirius is married to a woman (sorry for the wolfstar) and Remus to Tonks. There is no Voldemort, so everyone is alive.

(just an introductory chapter, I swear it will have more action in the next few. the first is always difficult)

---------------------------

It was supposed to be another normal summer.

The one where Ron ends up going Harry’s home and the two of them venture into the Potter's big backyard, flying with their brooms and talking about everything and nothing, sometimes accompanied by Hermione, sometimes without her, having fun and doing things that teenagers from 15 years must do, that is; a lot of shameful things like hitting on girls and asking them out (not that they did that much, that one time at the Muggle ice cream shop had been traumatic enough). Then they would play Quidditch with Sirius and his father, and for a few days, Harry would take shelter in The Burrow, being pampered by Mrs. Weasley and laughing at anything stupid that the twins would do.

It was simple, without high expectations and feelings.

Until that day.

Harry had called Ron as usual, and then Ginny, because what would be the problem, right? Sirius was traveling with Hestia and they needed another player. But Harry did not foresee anything he would see next (because if he did, he might change things). Okay, Gin was wearing shorter shorts than he usually used to see, and yes, maybe at one time or another he would have looked at her breasts, because they were quite evident in her worn Harpy shirt, but it was so "innocent" that he didn't even consider big things, not wanting to dissect his own teenage mind.

At night, when the fours - Hermione had arrived a little later - were arranged on the two hammocks that hung in the garden trees (Harry with Ginny, and Ron with Mione) talking and laughing about any nonsense that came to mind, he caught himself admiring that redhead more deeply.

She was lying with her head on the other end, one leg dropped out just like his, but unable to touch the grass, while the other was stretched out beside him body, letting him see how white she was, with several small bruises on the knee, ankle and some on the thigh. Her skin looked too soft, a little red from the sun, but nothing too terrible to cause her pain, and there were freckles lost there, too. Not like on the face, but Harry was also lost in counting how many there were, most likely because he concentrated on how terribly sexy her thigh was

Her shirt had also gone up a bit, she was moving her arm towards another tree on her diagonal, something for Ron while they were talking, and that made the bar wander over her navel, which was very tempting. The skin there seemed much softer than the legs, with a little more freckled freckles, and he wondered how far they went up, or down. The shirt was bent because of its position and it made her breasts even more evident, and Harry had never seen one in real life, at least not one that wasn't covered by ashirt, but Ginny's looked incredible, and his palm itched with willingness to caress them.

He was crazy.

It was the sister of his best friend. His friend too - even if not that close - and as much as she liked him in her first year at Hogwarts, and turned incredibly red every time Harry was in the room, she was still Ginny!

''Dinner, kids!'' His mother shouted from the back door, saving him entirely from starting to talk any nonsense to dispel the redhead's mind.

That was just obvious observation that a teenager would do with any female body, it had no great meaning about it.

[...]

''Harry?'' His father's voice was low, a little lazy, standing in the middle of the stairs as he saw him in the kitchen, wandering in front of the cupboards, not knowing where to go. ''Is everything okay?''

''Yes, of course'' He barely looked at the man, crouching down to pick up the bundle of muggle snacks his mother had bought, feeling his stomach as empty as a punctured bag, even though he had eaten kidney pie and potatoes for dinner.

''Nightmare?'' Dad opened another cupboard, taking a cup and filling it with hot water

''No'' If the dream that left him with all his dirty pajama pants counted as a nightmare ... Harry snorted, opening the package and stuffing a handful of potatoes in his mouth, feeling ready to say everything his mind was working on since Ginny stepped into his house. A week ago...

Since when had she been so beautiful?

''Just hungry'' He pointed to the package, leaning against the counter and eating some more, not wanting to go back to the room so soon, a little afraid that if he might close his eyes again, he would feel his balls hurt again, while imagining the redhead wearing bikinis and laughing while jumping in the water and calling him with her finger.

''Your mother hears this and tomorrow she will make two pies just for you'' He laughed, stirring the tea and watching his son carefully. James didn't wear his glasses, but Harry bet he didn't even need to know that something was wrong ''Ginny plays well''

''Have you ever think to who shouldn't?’’ The boy sat on the bench, filling his mouth again, kind of to shut up and avoid talking too much

"Um ... what do you mean?’’ James pulled one of the chairs and sat there, across from him

''Not being the mother ... You know, thinking about someone ... Not thoughts ... friendly ... you know?’’ His voice sounded more nervous than he wanted, but Harry blamed the dream for that. ''Wants to know? Forget it'' But before he managed to get up, his voice, thick and without a hint of laziness, resonated through the kitchen

''Sit down, Harry'' And so he did, not wanting to test his father's patience when it was one in the morning ''Of course I already thought of other people not being your mother. In school days, of course. But until she accepted me for no seventh year, it was a long year.'' A playful smile crossed his face, and the boy winced as he imagined the younger father having these conflicts '’Is that Cho?'' Harry made a face

''She rejected me a few weeks before we took the train. She's dating that Diggory'' Dad nodded, drinking tea patiently ''I just asked why ... how do I stop thinking about a girl?’’ His cheeks flushed to the deepest red, and he was grateful for the little light in the room and his father's lack of glasses.

''If I had known how, I would have got rid of your mother's thoughts the instant she rejected me'' They both laughed softly ''I don't know Harry, why are you trying to get her out of your head? Is someone impossible?''

Was Ginny impossible? Bill was a really big guy, Charlie dealt with dragons for Merlin's sake, and Ron was his best friend ... But Ginny, just her, was already pretty scared in her own right, like that day that she cursed a Slytherin and he ran for almost the entire castle .. Harry should feared her more than her brothers.

''I don't know'' He admitted, playing with the package, mashing a potato or two, while thinking better ''It's just ... it's stupid'' He shrugged

''Well, she seems to have taken your sleep away and increased your hunger'' He pointed to the almost empty package ''It doesn't look very stupid to me .. Why don't you just ask her, just like you did with Cho?''

''I took a year and a half with her'' James laughed

''Try to take less time with this one, you won't have that much time to date in seventh grade'' The man blinked, giving a cheeky little smile

[...]

''Your dad told me you’re in trouble with girls'' Sirius commented as soon as he saw him, sitting on the living room sofa and tying his black hair up in a little bun

''Hello Sirius, I missed you too ... yes, we haven't seen each other in almost a month ... Was your trip good? .. Ah, my dad gossiped about this? I thought we were friends." The godfather laughed, raising his eyebrows and denying it while watching him."Just a few comments, nothing much "

''He said you're thinking about who you shouldn't'' Harry rolled his eyes, sighing as he tried to remember why he had asked for advice for the man who doesn't keep secrets.

''It's not that I shouldn't, it's just that it's not worth it'' He shrugged, pretending that he hadn't dreamed of her two nights ago, after swimming together in The Burrow

''How do you know? Have you asked her yet?''

''Of course not, do you think I'm crazy?’’ Sirius laughed, denying and ruffling his godson's hair

''You didn't take that from your father ... Harry, no you already have it ... ''

'' ..Yes, I need the humiliation''

''It may be'' He would prefer his godfather to deny it, as his mother would “You will never know if you don't ask. What if she is the only one? Will you miss a chance out of fear?''

''Aunt Hestia is making it too soft, I thought you would say that I need to know all the dark corners of Hogwarts'' The man rolled his eyes

''That's obvious, there are exceptional broom cabinets'' He blinked, while Harry laughed ''Talk to her, even if it is risky ... What is a life without a little risk?"

[herm-y-own]

September 1st

King’s Cross was packed. Packed, as in, Albus Severus couldn’t walk two feet without bumping into someone, or stepping on someone’s foot, or accidentally pushing his trolley into an unsuspecting backside. In all his years of seeing Teddy, James, and Victoire off on September 1st, it had never been this full. It gave him a weird feeling at the base of his spine, not a bad feeling, necessarily, but the feeling that he was ignorant of something going on. Albus craned his neck, rising to his toes in an attempt to spot the sign for Platform 9. He’d just spotted it when his father called out to him.

“Albus! Wait up!” He turned to see that the rest of his family was far behind, trying to fight their way through the giant throng of people. They struggled to part the crowd, as no one paid them any attention. It was like they were invisible. If his parents noticed the unusual amount of commuters in the station, they didn’t comment on it.

 As Albus waited for his family to make their way to him, he observed the people around him, who were supposedly waiting for their trains to arrive. It was strange. Usually, everyone was always moving at a train station, whether it be King’s Cross or any other station in the world. But today, people seemed to just be... hanging out. Groups of teens and young adults, in particular. They sat with friends, chattering like flocks of sparrows, or by themselves, reading books or staring at rectangular muggle devices that Teddy told him were called “cell phones”, whatever that meant. 

What really caught his eye, however, was that some of them appeared to be Hogwarts students, even though many of them appeared to be in their early twenties. Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff colors sprinkled the crowd, beacons of color among the dull grays and browns of most muggle clothing. A group of older teens were crowded around the pillar holding the sign for Platform 10, huddled together and laughing over something on one girl’s cell phone. Several of them wore Gryffindor scarves, and one sported a beanie bearing Slytherin colors. For a second, Albus thought that they were muggleborn students, but none of them had a trolley, or trunks, for that matter. 

Albus felt a warm hand on his shoulder and turned, expecting to see his father. Instead, it was a kindly woman. She was clearly a witch, he could tell from the clothing she wore. He recognized her new robes to be the ones in Madam Malkins’ window last week. He also determined she was muggleborn. He spotted the outline of a cell phone in the pocket of her book bag slung over her shoulder. Lastly, he noticed the book she clutched nonchalantly in her free hand. It looked new, and distinctly muggle, its cover much unlike that of the leather tomes at Rose and Hugo’s house. It was a mottle of yellow and gold, a strange drawing on the front. Albus thought it resembled a bird’s nest. All he saw of the title was the word “Cursed”. He wanted to ask about the book, but just then the woman spoke. 

“Tell Scorpius that Miss Joanne says hello.” Her eye twinkled in a way that had the strange feeling pulsing at the base of his spine. 

“Who’s Scorpius?” he asked, “Is he here?” he peered around, though he didn't know what he was looking for. When he turned back, however, Miss Joanne was gone. His father was there in her place. “Who was that?” he asked, but Albus recognized a knowing look on his father's face. Albus pointed out the teenagers around Platform 10, “Are those Hogwarts students?”.

His parents shared amused smiles and Albus felt his brow crease. James suddenly came running over, Teddy in tow. 

“C’mon, we’re gonna miss the train!” The two older boys disappeared through the brick wall and onto Platform 9 3/4. 

“Are you ready, Albus?” His mother asked. He nodded, then ran toward the wall, sparing a glance back toward the group of teens, who never noticed him staring, but were now smiling wide. One of them was crying. Albus wanted to turn back, but thought better of it, and in the next moment he was staring at the scarlet steam engine that would take him to his first year at Hogwarts. The weird feeling disappeared as his cousins came bounding over, Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione following close behind. 

“Albus! Albus, I just heard that the Malfoys’ son is in our year!” Rose exclaimed as she wrapped him in a bone crushing hug.

“Really? Where is he?” 

“Over there, the one with the blond hair. Ten galleons he ends up in Slytherin,” his cousin said, but there was no malice in her voice. She knew better than anyone that Albus thought he would be sorted into Slytherin. He chuckled.

“No thanks, Rose. I need that money for when James and Teddy sneak me into Honeydukes.” HIs cousin playfully swatted his arm. “Ugh, Albus, you are such a Slytherin.”

“Now, now,” Aunt Hermione interjected, “there's nothing wrong with being in Slytherin.”

“I know, Mom. That’s not what I -” Aunt Hermione silenced Rose with a hand on her shoulder. “I know, sweetie. But I want you both to promise me that you’ll be nice to young Scorpius, okay? His family’s been through a lot.” Albus and Rose nodded sheepishly. Then Albus blinked.

“Wait. Did you say Scorpius?”

.

Back on Platform 9, Ginny and Harry Potter sent Lily Luna through the wall after her brothers. Harry wrapped an arm around his wife.

“I guess Hermione was right about using a disillusionment charm this year, huh?” she said from where she was snuggled into his chest. They stood watching the cluster of fans Albus had pointed out. 

“Gin, you and I both know Hermione’s always right.” Harry chuckled. 

“Guys, look what time it is!” one of the girls in the group shouted. The clock dangling above the crowd read 10:46am. The crowd erupted with low murmurs and children squealing. 

“Mommy, I wanna go to ‘ogwarts!” one toddler whined. 

Harry shook his head, grinning. “I guess that’s our cue,” he told his wife. Together, they crossed over onto Platform 9 3/4.

.

From the other side of the station, Joanne watched Harry and Ginevra follow their children onto the Platform. She’d visited Harry on September 1st for the past 19 years, not counting that instance in his second year when he flew that car to school. She smiled in her reminiscing. Walking out of the station on Friday, September 1st, 2017, she knew it would be the last time she saw him off. Lily still had yet to leave for Hogwarts, but Joanne wasn’t concerned. She still had one more adventure for Harry, but it wasn’t his, really. Harry’s time was over. Joanne smiled as she watched the cloudy sky open up to let the ever persistent morning light through. 

Harry would be alright. He had Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, after all. 

Albus was about to meet his best friend.

Draco Malfoy would finally get that handshake.

Despite everything, the next generation was in good hands.

She needn’t tell their story anymore.

All was well.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I’m not crying, you are. 

I thought this would be a nice way to celebrate the end of Harry’s era. Growing up with his story, I know it’ll never truly end. Still, it’s been a good time, hasn't it? We made it to the end, but we all know Harry’s story will last for generations to come. My hands are cramping, but I just want to thank everyone for how great it’s been, and how amazing it will continue to be. And it’s not like Harry Potter is easy to forget, right? Potterheads stick together, until the very end.

Thanks for making this September 1st special.

<3 ~ Jas

[sweeethinny]

The Duke - Chapter 5

I took a while to update, I thought about quitting sometimes, I won't lie, but, I started reading fanfics and books about Monarchy and regency era theme, and all my creativity came back.

Thank you as always, @theroomofreq who is very kind to me and helps me beta this story And to all my friends who need to listen to my crazy ideas

AO3 | FF.NET | SIYE (soon) 

| G. W |

It was barely dawn when that newspaper fell on the Weasleys' door and the elf caught it. It was like every other day, well rolled, with the ink still fresh, full of gossip, important news, and political speculation, in addition to that malicious hint that they introduced in the news, to be just mean to some stupid Viscount that was stolen - and deserved it - or a newly decorated Marquis who married a woman who struck him - and who also deserved it.

It was just another normal day.

Or so it was meant to be.

As soon as Ginny came down to breakfast, she felt that something was different in the air, or maybe it was the fact that her brothers and mother were on top of her father to be able to read the newspaper page too.

‘’Good morning.’’ She called, but no one paid any attention to her. ‘’What’s so important? Did we find a gold mine?’’ Ginny stood next to Ron, needing to tiptoe to read the main and most eye-catching story on the front page of the newspaper.

'’The - yet - Duke and Duchess of Godric’s Hollow, James and Lily Potter, open the doors of their country house, for the first time in 20 years, for the fiftieth Dueling Party.

Check out more information, and the guest list so far, on page 13.’’

‘’Were we invited?’’ Ginny asked, wanting her father to leave that page right away where showed a picture of the couple in front of their huge country house, with the two of them not looking so happy to pose for the camera.

‘‘We were.’’ Ron confirmed, still looking at the newspaper. ‘’I think… Did Mr Potter go crazy?’’

‘’Ron! Don't say that!’’ Molly slapped his son on the arm, scolding him. ‘’Arthur dear, do you know why… this? Lily's authorizing something like this to happen?’’

''James had talked about applying some measures at Godric's Hollow and some changes but ... I didn't imagine he would host the Dueling Party ... I mean, they have a pretty big list of guests.'' Father said, still standing at same page of the newspaper.

‘’I heard they think they know where their son is.’’ Fred said, a little quietly, as if saying something terrible.

‘’Lily will die looking for that son.. I don’t blame her, of course, but… It’s been almost 24 years, how does she think she can find the boy? Only Merlin knows who took him, where they took him…’’ Her mother put her hand on her chest, facing Ginny. ‘’We need to find you with a new dress.’’

‘‘No mom, please.’’ Ginny denied, looking back at the newspaper. ‘’But what if he’s really alive? How will they find him? Is that why they’re having the party this year?’’

‘’James says the boy was born with a brand.’‘ The father clarified. ‘’But I don’t know if that’s why they decided-- ’’

‘‘-- I’m sorry.’’ Henry’s voice interrupted Arthur’s, and the man bowed to everyone in the room. ''Mr. Weasley, I think you would like to accompany me.'' The man did not look at Ginny, as if he was afraid to show too much, holding a torn piece of paper tightly and having his left forearm grated and dirty. Had he fallen?

'‘Of course, Mr Figg. Excuse me, love.’’ Arthur kissed his wife respectfully and then followed Henry out of the dining room. Ginny almost ran after them, knowing it seemed to have something to do with her, just from the way Henry avoided looking at her.

She hated it when they made her look like a damsel in distress who couldn't distinguish fire from ice.

''Ginny, we will see this afternoon about your dress, and Ron, we also need to decide on new clothes for you ...'' Her mother continued to talk about the duties they would have for the next few days, but all Ginny could pay attention to was in Henry walking away. His cloak was torn in the back and it looked like he had just arrived - which was strange, because he never left in the morning, always preferring to go out in the afternoon when Ginny was at tea time with her mother, or at night, at dinner time. Henry always said that in the morning, it was the time that crazy people wake up and make a mess.

He looked over his shoulder after her dad turned the corner of the hall and disappeared towards the office, but he also followed the path before Ginny was able to have any appropriate reaction.

After his intrusion, and the delay for her father to return, Ginny had to be taken care of by another Auror (she was told that Henry needed to go to his office), and nowhere was Thomas as gentle and nice to her as Henry was. 

All morning, Ginny felt like she was being followed by a ghost, in silence for all the hours that passed, a little disconcerted that Thomas didn't like talking to her like Henry did - even though sometimes it was just yes and no - and when she had to leave the house to keep her mother company on the way to the center, Ginny was excited to at least hear different voices.

''Does Mrs. Potter know that I need to bring Mr. Figg?'' Ginny asked, looking at the windows they passed, daydreaming about those colorful and well-sewn dresses.

Even though her father was a Viscount, Arthur had been decorated one after the other 10 in front of him died, so there was not much inheritance for them to benefit from. They weren't really poor, Ginny could still choose a dress sewn by a top dressmaker on special occasions, but she knew that the family had far more limitations than other families who had a wardrobe all made just for them.

‘’I wouldn’t like you to bring him,’’ The mother started, raising her gloved hand as if she already knew that Ginny was going to interrupt her. "It's always quite threatening when he stays behind you wherever you go, and maybe that's what limits gentlemen to ask you out." The younger redhead bit her cheek, swallowing the urge to say what prevented men from getting close to her was that she was seen as crazy. ‘‘But your father would never let us leave the property without him following, so… Yes, Mrs. Potter already knows that Mr. Figg will be with you.’’

‘‘I thought they didn’t throw parties anymore.’’ She commented quietly, smiling at a lady who was looking at her a little terrified, pulling her little daughter aside when Ginny passed.

Ah, London hospitality, always so pleasant.

‘’We all thought so.’’ Molly spread the fan in her hands, fanning herself because of the heat that seemed to be almost deadly. ‘‘But it looks like Mrs. Potter is tired of leaving the doors closed.’’

‘’I don’t remember visiting their house.’’

‘’You first came right when you were born, we introduced you to them. We have a picture of you and little Harry in the crib.'' Her mother sighed, stopping in front of the shop for hats, gloves and other accessories (not as chic as the one on the top street where jewelry was sold) and smiled at Ginny . ‘’Let's go in, I want to see if we can find some hats for you. Maybe there is a suitor who captures your heart during the Dueling Party.’’

[...]

‘'The Dueling Party …’’ Ginny repeated, rereading the news for the tenth time. ‘’Do you know what they say about this party?’’ She asked, looking over her shoulder at Thomas, standing behind her, while she was dining alone.

He denied. Ginny snorted, annoyed by the silence.

‘’Do you know where Mr. Figg is?’’ It was a lot more fun to have dinner with his company.

‘’No, Miss.’’

‘’Do you know when he comes back?’’

‘‘No, Miss.’’ Ginny turned to the untouched plate in front of her. Her father had spent the day outside, just like Henry, Ron had gone out with Fred somewhere, and her mother had already gone to bed, saying she was having a headache from the heat. She sighed, alone.

Thomas was married, not that he told her, she had seen the ring in his hand, and Ginny hoped he would be more talkative outside of work, or she would send her condolences to the poor woman who was married to a ghost.

The day had been quite boring, even after going out with her mother - which resulted in her buying a new hat - her father had sent a Patron with strict orders not to leave the house. Not even to fly. So Ginny spent the afternoon reading, knitting, and even pruning some flowers. All without saying much, since Thomas seemed to hate any human interaction.

At first, Henry was like that, too, quietly, until he seemed to feel sorry for Ginny's loneliness (and his own, since he was 24/7 by her side), and they started talking and she was even able to convince him sit at the table with her when no one was attending dinner.

But today, even after Thomas has been with her a few times, he still seemed to completely ignore the warmth and preferred to remain silent, leaving Ginny talking to herself.

When she thought about starting dinner - even though the chicken looked pale and the potatoes didn't look so appetizing - she heard footsteps toward the dining room, and before she could understand who was coming in, his voice boomed through the quiet room; ‘’Mr. Thomas, you can go to your home. Thank you very much.’’ Henry bowed to her a little. ‘’Good night, Miss Weasley, forgive me for being late.’’

‘’Good night, Mr. Figg.’’ ’Ginny had to bite her cheek to avoid the smile that wanted to break her face. The other Auror bowed to her and left the room, looking even relieved of an unknown tension that weighed on his shoulders. ‘’He doesn’t seem to like me very much.’’ She continued to look at the door through which the man had disappeared.

‘’If you want to know a secret,’’ Henry spoke softly, and approached her a little. ‘‘I don’t think he even likes himself.’’ Ginny laughed, her chest seeming to burn with that feeling of comfort that the man gave to her. It was always so simple to be around him, even when they were around several people and Henry was not allowed to give his real opinions (he would never give them, anyway, but Ginny knew that when it was just the two of them, he could be one little less judicious)

‘’May I know where you and my father have been?’’ She gave up on dinner, turning entirely to Henry and putting her arms on the back of the chair, resting her head there and staring at him curiously. ‘’It was a very boring day.’’

‘’Sorry to leave you, Miss.’’ Like a great gentleman he was, he nodded politely. ‘’But unfortunately I can’t tell you where we went. You’ll have to ask your father.’’

‘’And will he tell me?’’ She tried hopefully.

''I do not think so. Sorry.''

‘‘It’s not your fault.’’ She shrugged, only then really looking at him. Henry was still as he was yesterday; his slightly old and crooked glasses made his green eyes even bigger, Auror's clothes were so tightly buttoned and without any wrinkles that Ginny was embarrassed about her dress, which had a slightly worn hem. But unlike yesterday, she realized that his left hand was bandaged. ''What happened?''

‘’Ah… problems.’’ Henry shrugged. ‘’Another time we can discuss this, but I don’t think it is an issue for a lady who… still needs dinner.’’ He looked over her shoulder at her untouched plate - which now seemed to have gained color and life.

‘’Have you eaten yet?’’ Ginny turned around, slicing the chicken and smiling eagerly for him to sit with her.

''Already, Miss. Sorry.’’ Ginny could even hear his sad smile.

"But sit still, you know I hate to eat alone." She helped herself to the wine, having to bite her cheek again to keep from smiling and bursting into words she swallowed all day, when he sat in front of her. ‘’Can I ask you just one thing?’’

‘’For sure, Miss.’’ Henry seemed to want to disagree when Ginny spilled wine in his glass, but said nothing.

''Your bruised hand, the disappearance for the whole day, and the bloody story... has to do with me?'' She said, filling her mouth with a good forkful of chicken, peas and puree, staring at Henry with a pink color on his cheeks and he looked away from hers for a second.

‘’Yes, Miss.’’ He sighed, looking tense. ‘’But I’m not allowed to say more than that.’’ And then Henry pointed his finger at the walls around them, silent, and then at his own ear.

The walls have ears.

Ginny could not contain the reaction of bulging her eyes and looking at the large window beside them, which showed the entire backyard of the dark and lost yard in the darkness of the night, the trees making a lot of noise, as well as the wind whistling in the small openings of the glass and some old wood.

Henry was still staring at her, his green eyes almost seemed to enter her mind.

‘’What was I doing when I got the scar on my leg?’’ Ginny was alarmed, placing her hand on the wand at her waist, and the other holding the knife even stronger.

‘’You went up on the roof to save a cat, and when I thought was safe and tried to go up too, you slipped and cut your leg on a loose tile.’’ She blew out the air she seemed to be holding. ‘’I’m glad you remember to ask this, but it would have been too late,’’ Henry said, without taking his eyes off her. ‘’You have to do this when I arrive, not after inviting me to sit.’’ He warned her, his eyebrow dark and cut in half by the scar, rising and arching.

‘’I would know if you were an impostor.’’ For some reason she couldn’t take her eyes off him, feeling her chest burn and her hands tremble. And unlike any other time this happened, it was as if her magic was more controlled rather than totally insane inside Ginny.

‘’Miss didn’t seem so sure of that.’’ Henry didn’t seem bothered to look her in the eye either.

‘’I just doubted it. But I would know.’’ She didn’t know how, but something inside her said she would know.

‘’I’m happy that no imposter would take my place.’’ Henry smirked. ‘’I would also know how to differentiate you from an impostor.’’ And then he looked away at the window, and Ginny’s chest seemed to almost break without the pressure that was building there.

She even managed to fill her lungs with air.

| H. F |

‘’If you allow me to ask..’’ Ginny started, as they walked to the place where they were training duels. A place that Mr. Weasley had built after the clearing, where no one would get hurt or end up drawing much attention. It was not respectful for girls born in good families to know the art of dueling.

It was another day, nearly seven in the morning when Henry had to wake Ginny up so they could train the duel. After yesterday's threat, it would be necessary for her to be more than prepared if he could not defend her alone - but he was training even more so that it would not happen.

‘’Where do your scars come from? The one you have on your forehead. I mean.'' She pointed with her gloved hand at his forehead, almost touching where the lightning-like scar was marked on his skin.

‘’It’s too bloody a story for seven in the morning. And for a lady like you.’’ He kept up his education, already seeing the hut they haven’t visited in a few months, trying to ignore the feeling of failure due to having to make a woman like her, needing to learn the art of dueling. Dueling with an auror, to top it off, and not with figures he would transfigure, as he did for the boys who had been a tutor a few years ago.

No Auror learned to duel as Ginny Weasley needed to learn.

Women usually - if they learned to duel - did it with transfigured birds, wooden figures, and sometimes, if it was very necessary, the teacher would participate or call another woman who also trained, so that they would duel.

Ginny was dueling with an Auror who could do this even with his eyes closed, and who had already killed so many men that he almost needed a third hand to count how many.

''Well, if I'm asking for the story of your scar, I'm wise enough to know that I'm going to hear a bloody story.'' Henry opened the wooden hut door for her to enter first, and the smell of damp wood and dust entered their noses. Sunlight passed through broken planks and windows, and the lack of furniture (or what was left over and already broken) caused their voices to echo.

‘’They tried to kill me when I was a kid.’’ He didn’t have to look at her to see her eyes bulge, instead he walked to his usual place and started getting ready for them to start dueling.

‘’Who would do that ?! This is ... This is horrible!’’

‘’I know, Miss.’’ Henry never doubted that. ''But you would be astonished at how many crazy people there are.'' He saw her getting ready across the room, taking off the cloak, gloves and hat that her mother insisted she really wear, even inside the property.

‘’How did you get out alive?’’ Her brown eyes looked a little horrified and a little angry, as if she wanted to protect him. Henry wanted to laugh at the concern of a Viscount's daughter, at a poor man like him. In no dream or hallucination would a woman so above him look at him and speak as she did, always so friendly, seeming not even to notice how foolish she left him.

Henry was only above the bourgeois and, obviously, the miserable and squib (a class that his mother, unfortunately, belonged to), and by very little yet. If it weren't for sheer luck and being in the right place at the right time, Henry would never know what it was like to step inside the Auror Department.

‘‘My mom saved me.’’ He said, simply, but Ginny was still staring at him absurdly. ‘’In fact, she’s not my birth mother… My birth mother died at the hands of the Death Eaters. But she has looked after me since one of the Death Eaters tried to kill me, and here I am, safe and sound.’’

''I've never seen a spell that left a scar.'' She approached, eyes fixed on Henry's forehead, and her bare hand touched his skin, making him shiver and make him walk away in fright, as if her touch burned his face. ‘‘Sorry.’’ Ginny blushed furiously, still looking more scared, withdrawing her hand.

'’It's okay, Miss.’’ Henry swallowed, the wand in his hand shaking slightly, as if the magic wanted to explode out of it at all costs. ‘’And, I don’t know how I came out with just a scar. Maybe my magic saved me.’’

‘’Yeah… maybe it is.’’ Ginny now looked into his eyes, looking a little too serious, the brown eyes that Henry thought were so beautiful, seemed to carry a mountain of feelings that she would never let out. At least, not for him. ‘’Come on… let’s train.’’ And then she turned her back on him, the purple robes making her look like a witch from a Muggle fairy tale. Her hair tied tightly in the braid made her look a little more challenging than she usually was.

Henry knew he would never find a woman more beautiful than she was, and he cursed himself for thinking of her that way.

‘’We’re going to start.’’ He had to breathe deeply, before getting back in line and starting.

They bowed to each other in a sign of respect - if there was any respect in a duel - and then raised their wands.

Ginny and Henry had already dueled a few times, much more than a lady should, and he knew that she was really good and that if they accepted women at the Auror Academy, she would be even better than most the men who worked there. But whenever they dueled, Henry felt that electricity running in his wand, making it difficult to keep the spells for a long time, as if his wands refused to duel.

The magic was out of control - that's why Mr. Weasley had a hut built away from everyone and empty - and he could see the intensity of her magic almost greater than his. There always seemed to be something missing to make his strengths equal, and Henry thought that maybe it was the fact that he always feared for hurting her, while Ginny was instructed to use all her strength.

‘’Expelliarmus.’’ He whispered to himself

‘‘Estupor.’’ Ginny also spoke in an almost lower tone than Henry, and then the spells dueled, and the electricity almost looked like it was about to kill him. His arm was shaking, and the strength of the spells facing each other made the boards tremble and the rest of the entire furniture began to want to dismantle.

But for some reason Ginny lost her focus, and then Henry's magic won and her wand flew into his hands, just as her body stumbled over the furniture behind her.

He also lost his balance, and had it not been for the table well placed behind him, he would have been shamefully thrown back.

‘’I heard a noise.’’ She said, startled. ''I saw someone passing by, behind the house.'' And as if all the strength was suddenly recovered, Henry stood up and looked behind him, through the gaps in the wood where all you could see was the forest.

‘’Are you sure?’’ He asked, already casting a protective spell around them and throwing her wand at her, walking towards her and keeping her behind him - even though she insisted on going to his side.

''Yes. I saw someone. It wasn't a deer or anything. It was a person.’’ Henry’s magic trembled again, and just for safety, he cast three more protective spells around them, and grabbed her arm, pulling her out of the house. ''Don't let me stay behind, someone can hit me from behind and you won't even see.'' She complained when he once again put his body in front of hers, stamping her feet next to Henry, who was looking at the forest silent around them.

‘’Miss, you will stay in the circle of protection, while I will see if there is anyone, understood?’’ He stared at her, the taste of blood dominating the palate with the idea of ​​yet another crazy men trying to kill her.

''But I--''

‘’--Don’t make me petrify you. And I will. ’’ Henry didn’t even give her time to complain, throwing more protections around her, stepping out of the circle and preparing to grab another idiot who tried to get close to Ginny.

Yesterday morning Henry had found a miserable boy, doing the dirty work for wealthy people, bringing with him a cursed Ginny doll and a letter detailing exactly what they would do when they caught her. Henry didn't even like to remember the fury that surrounded him when he read what they intended to do. Not even over his corpse, would anyone touch her.

They were starting to be more creative now. It was the second cursed item they tried to get to Ginny.

Making sure she was still safe - and she looked furious in the circle Henry had created - he started walking around, looking at the sides of the house and a little way through the trees, but never losing sight of Ginny, who was so well protected that he could barely hear her voice.

But maybe Henry should have paid attention to what she was screaming, or trying to scream, because when a spell tried to hit him and ricocheted away, he knew it was she who was protecting him, and that they were with visitors. But he saw no one.

Turning to her, even more furious, Henry felt protected once again, seeing that Ginny was also surrounding him with protective spells, and he made the sign that she needed to leave. He told her to Apparate, but Ginny stayed there, denying it while Henry felt his protective sense scream inside him.

Better him than her.

He hid behind a tree, still feeling protected, and concentrating on the image of Ginny and her mesmerizing eyes, Henry struggled to enter her mind, as they had trained exhaustively. But it always seemed easier with her.

''Apparate out of here.. Now.''

He ordered, even though that part of the Forest was strangely quiet. Had they given up?

‘’Not without you.’’ She snapped in his mind, and Henry wished he could shake her shoulders.

‘’You are more important than me.Get out. They won’t see you, you’re protected.’’

''Not. Without. You.''

Henry took a deep breath and looked behind the tree, looking for whoever it was, wondering what he would do with that stubborn woman. There was no more noise, no spell shining, everything was silent. Which was even more dangerous.

They wouldn't come and just shoot Henry and leave without even fighting. But he was not staying to see.

And if he could bet, he knew it was more dangerous for them to stay there, waiting for them to come back. They had done this once, killed a deer as a threat, so Henry knew there must be a dead animal somewhere nearby.

He would send a patronus to Robards.

'’Apparate to our safe place. I will meet you there.’’ He spoke to her, still in mind.

‘’Do you promise to go?’’

‘’I’m right behind you, Miss.’’