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lqveharrington · 4 months ago

Note

FRED WEASLEY AND ALL TOO WELL😭🫶 pleasee

All Too Well | F.W.

summary: your daughter gets curious about all the different parchment you had stored away.

pairing: fred weasley x fem!reader

includes: reader’s last name is Lupin, mainly fluff and angst, kissing, playful teasing, pregnancy, death, crying (this fic is practically as long as the song)

a/n: first fic of the 2k celebration! also, i cried everytime i came back to write this 😭 i miss him so much (rules for celebration here!)

It had been exactly eleven years since your beautiful baby girl Charlotte was born, Molly and Arthur Weasley's first grandchild. Born a pureblood, she would be going to Hogwarts this September and you couldn't be more proud. From all the stories Charlotte heard about your time at Hogwarts, she knew she would have the time of her life. Especially since all the stories were about you, her father, and her uncles. You would tell her all the stories of how the twins and Lee would set up pranks only to be scolded by McGonagall. Sometimes you had to scold them too.

You missed the days where you had no care in life except for your studies. You missed spending every single day with your favorite people and seeing them everyday. You missed everything Hogwarts had to offer before the war began.

But even after all the chaos it brought, your sweet girl was born. The only righteous matter to come out of the war.

"Mum, what's that?" Charlotte sat beside you on the couch and perched her head on your shoulder as she looked inside the box you brought out, beautiful red hair draping over your body.

Her gaze was drawn to the different sized parchment, each one having different drawings and dates. Charlotte picked one up and read the name, eyes widening at the signatures signed at the bottom. They were her father's and there were so many of them. "Whoa."

"What're you doing, creeper?" You laugh softly and pull her to sit in front of you, kissing the top of her head when she put the note back inside the box.

"What are all of those?” She gestured to the box and looked at you with curious eyes, fingers moving to touch the gold ring around your left hand; A habit she picked up from you whenever you felt the need to fidget. “Did dad send you all of those?”

You nod and clasp your hand around hers, feeling her pulse. "Yeah, he uhm,” You cleared your throat and blinked fast, ridding yourself of the tears that wanted to spill over. "He would write me one from the day we met until he… Your dad would even write me notes when I was just sitting next to him in class."

You pursed your lips and looked down, mind going through years and years of memories. Every time you received a new note, you wrote down the date to keep track of how long he had been doing it.

"There's so many..." Charlotte looked in awe and made out some of the dates, many of them dating back to when you were eleven. “He must have loved you a lot, mum. Especially since you kept all of them.”

You let out a chuckle, your hand reaching up to hold the gold ring adorning your necklace, thumb feeling the lettering inside. “Well, your dad was head over heels for me, Char.” You watched her pick up different parchment and smiled softly at how intrigued she was.

“Here, pick a couple and I'll tell you the stories behind them.” You hand her the box and watch her eyes light up before closing them and plucking out five pieces of parchment, handing them to you with glee.

Charlotte folded her arms over her knees, cheek resting against her arm. She watched your eyes water again at the notes she picked, making her bite her bottom lip. She didn’t want you to cry. She hated seeing you cry. Especially when it was over her father.

“Do you…” She started and met your eyes again, giving you a small smile in hopes of getting you to smile again. “Do you remember how you got all of them?”

"Of course, I do." You sent her a short grin and tucked pieces of her hair behind her ear, her brown eyes and red hair oh-so familiar to you. "I remember it all too well."

10/09/1993

“Weasley, you’re late to your own date.” You wave the parchment in his face and bite back a smile when he rolls his eyes and takes the note from you. “You said to meet you in the courtyard at exactly 3PM.”

Everyone had already left for Hogsmeade and you were left standing in the courtyard with the handmade scarf Mrs. Weasley made for you, the wind blowing it around. You weren’t actually upset with Fred, this happened more than once already, but he had time to serve with Filch whenever he pulled a stunt worse than usual.

“No, it says 3:30PM.” He tapped his wand on the parchment and sent you a lopsided grin, this time making you roll your eyes. “You look, Lupin.”

You took the note from his hands and read it out loud, giving him an exasperated look. He pulled you close by the waist, tilting his head down to meet your eyes. He loved the height difference you had with him, being a whole head shorter than him gave him lots of pun material.

“Wow, it says 3:30PM all of a sudden.” You tuck the parchment into your pocket and strain your neck to look at him. He still wore that smile you loved, making you push up on your toes to kiss him properly.

He grinned into the kiss and pressed his lips against yours multiple times until he was satisfied, adjusting the scarf you wore when he separated from you. You sigh softly and push locks of his red hair away from his eyes, meeting the beautiful brown eyes that you adored.

“Now did you actually leave on time? Or did you leave when Filch wasn’t looking?” You question him as you began the descent away from Hogwarts, careful to walk around the rocky terrain.

“I��m offended! Who do you think I am?” Fred laced his hand with yours and guided you safely around the trail to Hogsmeade, looking over yours clothes to insure you were dressed properly for the fall weather in Scotland. “Of course I left when Filch wasn’t looking.”

You smack his chest with the back of your hand and shake your head, not even a little surprised with the stunt he pulled. “Frederick Gideon Weasley.”

“What? I promised a date to the prettiest girl at Hogwarts.” He squeezed your hand before pulling you closer to him, looking around the area in confusion. “Speaking off, have you seen here? We were supposed to meet up at 3PM back at the courtyard.”

“I knew we were supposed to meet up a three, you prat!” You exclaim and smack him once more, making him laugh. He crookedly smiled, loving how you completely ignored his short jab to defend yourself about the right time you were supposed to meet.

Fred leaned down and pressed another kiss to your lips, effectively shutting you up. You let out a small noise before indulging him, placing a hand on his cheek before pulling away.

“That’s not fair.” You whisper to him, lips grazing his when you spoke. You peered down at his lips before back up to his eyes, smiling when you knew you got caught.

“Nothing’s ever fair, Lupin.” He murmured and smiled back at you, thumb softly tracing his initials into your covered hip.

You felt so much love from Fred — although it did take you years to finally agree to go on a date with him. Maybe it was to spite your dad when he began teaching at Hogwarts, but you truly loved Fred. You had known his family for far too long to ignore the heart that only beats for him.

12/25/1994

“Why is it we learned how to ballroom dance together only to ditch and sneak off to the kitchens?” You ask in a low voice, not wanting to break the calmness that fell over the both of you as you moved further and further away from the bustling Great Hall.

Your hands were laced behind your back as you walked beside Fred, letting the silence overtake after an overstimulating two hours at the Yule Ball. You weren’t even planning to go because you knew your social battery wouldn't be able to handle so many people in one room, but Fred convinced you to go with a simple heart-shaped piece of parchment.

“'Cause you needed a breather. I could see it in your eyes.” He nudged your shoulder gently before slipping his arm around your waist, letting you rest your head on his shoulder; The smell of lemon ginger cookies and firecrackers filling your senses from the suit jacket he wrapped around you earlier.

You smiled softly at his actions as he led you down toward the kitchens. He was everything you never knew you needed and it made your heart swell with so much love. You never wanted to leave his side.

Fred came to the conclusion that the elves loved you a lot more than him when you dismissed them with a bright smile. Whenever he and George visited during the midnight runs, they would always greet them. When you were with him and George, the elves would do anything you asked them to without any hesitation.

While you moved around the space to make a quick snack for the both of you, Fred simply admired you. He admired how beautiful you looked doing such a mundane task or how you would always click your heel whenever you were counting something. He was so in love that watching you just stand and cross your arms when the stove wasn't cooperating made he grin stupidly.

Before he realized what exactly he was doing, you sent him a confused look. "You haven't spoke in like—" You looked over to the wall clock, raising your brows in surprise. "Ten minutes. Are you okay?"

Fred hummed and pulled you to stand in front of him, his hands coming down to rest at the curve of your waist. “Can’t I admire how beautiful you look, Lupin?”

You squint your eyes at him and meet the brown eyes that have been staring at you for quite some time. Although he was bold most times, you saw how raw and genuine his words were.

“I mean, even without trying you just look,” Fred laced his hand with yours and slowly spun you around, breath catching when you faced him once more. He was so enamored with you — no spell was strong enough to break the enchantment. "Absolutely stunning."

You try hiding a smile that made its way onto your face, only settling into it when he moved to kiss your neck. You grasp the back of his shoulders and sigh softly, shutting your eyes briefly before he parted and smirked at your breathless look.

"I wanna marry you." Fred murmurs and thumbs your bottom lip, catching you give him your golden smile. "The only thing I want to do before I die is marry you."

You hum and rest your hands on his chest, fingers playing with his lapels. You wanted nothing more to marry the man in front of you. Every little thing he did was like painting a perfect picture, and you wanted to frame it forever and ever. He would be the only oath you were willing to take.

“Let’s dance for a little while.” He suggested as the muffled music coming from the Great Hall wandered into the kitchens, a slow song coming on at a perfect time. “There’s music and the candle light by the fridge.”

“Just us?" You ask almost like you needed the reassurance, watching him bow and take your hand like any waltz started. He clasped his hand with yours and began to take the calculated steps he learned only a few weeks ago.

“Just us.” He reassured you and snuck a kiss to your lips, earning an eye roll and lopsided grin.

Yeah, this was it for the both of you.

05/26/1996

Fred knew that you would be upset if you found out that him and George were planning on leaving Hogwarts without graduating. Especially since you were so keen on helping the both of them study for their N.E.W.T.S. He knew you wanted to graduate with him by your side, but what good would graduating from Hogwarts be if he and George had a plan that could be set in motion right now?

He was going to tell you a couple weeks ago, but you got so busy with studying for N.E.W.T.S. and ensuring you would get 'outstanding' in all subjects. So he decided to wait. Well, until you found the note he was planning to give you.

You were absolutely heartbroken. The entire day you wanted nothing to do with him, even sitting beside Angelina during potions just to avoid him. But he eventually found you sitting at the top of the astronomy tower, head resting on your knees and fingers playing with the gold necklace he got you the year before.

Guilt was eating Fred up from the inside out. Starting with his heart.

“Are you really leaving without graduating?” You murmured when you felt his body heat approach you, head still staring forward toward the forbidden forest.

Fred sighed and sat beside you, running his fingers through his hair. “The system isn’t working for us right now and—" Then he heard the sound that absolutely crushed him. He heard the hiccup that would soon become sobbing. "Lovey, what’s wrong?”

You were quick to bury your head in your arms. You knew Fred could read you like a book and anything you did now would trigger his different responses. When you sniffled, you knew it was game over.

“Okay, lovey, you're crying.” He pulled you around so that you were sitting in front of him and gently moved your arms away from your face, his own face falling at the way you look at him.

Your eyes were wet with tears, your lip was quivering, and it pained him to know he caused it. You wanted to tell him it wasn't his fault, but if you tried to speak, you would completely fall apart. Everything was stressing you out and the note just pushed you over the edge.

“You know I'll be at the station when you get back.” Fred murmured and tucked your hair behind your ears, listening to your uneven breaths. "I won't leave you forever."

You hiccup and turn your head, biting your bottom lip to help stabilize yourself. "I-I just thought we would have more t-time together before everything got s-so serious outside of Hogwarts."

Fred tilted his head and tried his best to meet your eyes, "But you know that's not the case, lovey. You'll be living with Georgie and I, and you know were aren't exactly the most serious people."

You let out a wet laugh and look down, fingers coming up to play with the infinity symbol on you necklace. Fred smiled softly at your laugh. At least he knew you weren't too terribly upset over the predicament.

“If I do w-well on my N.E.W.T.S, I'll be t-training full time as a h-healer.” You hiccup and trace the symbol over itself, still trying to calm down as best as you could. “And I know you two will run your business together most of the time. So I don't—”

“Lovey, look at me." Fred pleaded and lightly cupped your cheek, tilting your head so he could face you properly. "Nothing will ever come between you and me. You were in my past, currently living in my present, and you are indefinitely my future. You are my everything and I refuse to leave this spot until you give me that golden smile I love."

Your laugh softly and give him that golden smile, "I love you, Fred Weasley."

08/14/1997

Fred proposed to you a couple of months ago. It wasn’t anything too extravagant or crazy, but you definitely cried like a baby when he got down on one knee and revealed a gorgeous gold ring you swore cost more than how much the twins made a month. Flash forward, you were having a wedding at the Burrow surrounded by family and loved ones.

After vows were said and the most passionate kiss was exchanged, you and Fred were immediately separated. He was pulled to talk to family he didn't even know were family while you were stuck plastering a fake smile to Sirius and Remus who kept going on and on about how happy they were for you.

Eventually the both of you were able to get away, running away from your own reception like you would if you were still in Hogwarts. You laughed as you both made it to the edge of the forest, resting your head on his shoulder. Although you were both only nineteen, you knew that this would be forever.

“Do you think they'll realize the bride and groom are missing from their own wedding?” You let your laughter subside and following him wherever he was guiding you. Was it such a good idea to follow him blindly? Not really, but you trusted Fred. "Where are we going?"

“You’ll see.” He moved a hand to cover your eyes and helped you maneuver through the foliage.

It felt like an hour of just walking and constantly trying to peek through his hands until he stopped abruptly, causing you to stumble over your own heeled feet. He helped stabilize you before removing his hand, letting you look at the sight in front of you.

“Tada!”

The sight was drop dead gorgeous. Almost every single note he had ever wrote to you was floating around a cleared part of the forest, small wisps of light acting as your guide to each and every date. Your eyes were filled with tears as you went up to one of the earliest notes, the date going back to the first week of your first year at Hogwarts.

“When did you ever have the time to do this?” You murmured and looked around, hand coming up to play with your golden necklace, the same one he got you forever ago.

“I have six siblings, I can get them to do my bidding.” Fred shrugged and flicked his wand, the song from the Yule Ball playing in the background. From where you would never know. “Shall we dance, Mrs. Weasley?”

"We shall." You smile brightly and clasp your hands in his, letting him guide you through the same waltz. You squealed when he spun you around and fell into his arms, both of your gold rings flashing from the light. The rings that were a promise of love and happiness.

“Thank you.” You look up at him with so much love and sigh. He was now yours forever, bound by the vows you cried to.

He looked between your eyes and tilted his head, "For what, lovey?"

"Just for being yourself. Everything that you do is just..." You find no other way to express what the feeling was, racking your brain for a word but unable to fine the proper wording. You push up on your toes and kiss him silly, pulling away just as fast. "That's what it feels like."

Fred felt warmth coat his cheeks and neck, lowering his head so he was mere millimeters away from your face. “You love me.”

“I love you, yes.” You look down at his lips before looking back up to the brown eyes you fell in love with so many years ago. "That's why I married you, dummy."

"Good thing you did too, your dad was going to kill me if I just wasted all your time. You know how hard it was to convince your dad I actually love you?" Fred complained as he dipped you, smirking when you gasped at the sudden movement. He pressed a quick kiss to your lips before pulling you back up.

You furrow your brow before breaking out in laughter as you remember the memories of him trying to get the Remus Lupin to like him. “He’s not that hard to charm, Fred!”

“Considering it took me months to even get him on board of the idea of you marrying me, I don’t believe it.” Fred kept you close, swaying to the music that was now coming to an end.

“Whatever.” You press a kiss to his jaw. “I love you either way.”

04/25/1998

The entire day you've been a wreck. The note you held in your hands felt like a weight, and you wanted to toss it to Fred as fast as possible. Your nerves were killing you, slowly making you twitchy at every movement. You weren't sure how Fred would react to the news, but when you found out, you threw up. Well, you weren't sure if that was because you were scared or if it was morning sickness.

“Georgie, has Fred gone on break yet?” You wander down into the store and pick at your nails, narrowly avoiding two kids chasing each other throughout the store.

“Ah, not yet. He’s dealing with a particularly tough customer. I’ll send him up for you once he’s done though.” George sent you a sympathetic smile and flicked his wand, watching the stairs turn to help the kids return back to their parents.

His smile soon fell into a frown when he noticed how sick you were looking. He knew that you were pregnant, but it was well past the morning and you were sitting upstairs merely working on papers.

“What’s wrong?” He asked and put an arm around your shoulder, guiding you away from the crowds so there were no stragglers to listen in on the conversation.

You purse your lips and spin the golden ring adorning your left hand, head reeling at the thought of telling Fred about the pregnancy. “I’m telling him today.”

“Oo, yeah. Can’t wait to see the look on that wanker’s face.” George chuckled and earned a punch to the arm from you, causing him to recoil and glare.

“Hey!” You scold and place a hand over the lower half of your stomach. “You can’t say that anymore, there’s a child present!”

“Aw, you’re no fun anymore now that you’re married and becoming a mother.” George stuck his tongue out at you before sending you a reassuring smile and giving you a thumbs up. “Congratulations, you can do it."

You nodded and made your way back up to the flat above the store, pacing back and forth from the living room to the kitchen. The nerves were getting worse. The note soon became overly crinkled and you swore your socks were getting tarnished by how many times you frustratedly spun around on your heel.

By the time you thought your nerves were finally settling, Fred walked in with the smile you loved. Your emotions sky rocketed and you ran into his arms, burying your head in his neck while he supported you up by the back of your thighs.

"Did you miss me already?" He chuckled and pressed a kiss to your cheek, earning a quiet 'yes' from you. "Aw, lovey."

After a few seconds of practically gluing yourself to him, you finally pulled away and pressed a proper kiss to his lips. He smiled and thumbed the skin available to him. You hum and direct him toward the couch, pulling away only to giggle when he chased your lips. He sent you a joking pout, ready to protest when you shoved the note into his hands.

"What is this?" He unfolded the paper and stared at you with so much love you felt a cavity coming in. "Turning the tables on me? I— Fucking hell."

"Fred!" You smacked his chest before meeting his brown eyes, unsure of the emotion behind them. "So?"

"So what?" His grinned and tackled you onto the couch, peppering your face in kisses. "You're pregnant! I'll be a father!"

You laugh at the feeling of his kisses, "You're not mad?"

"Godric, how could I be mad at you? You're having my child!" Fred kissed you senselessly, free hand coming down to rest on your stomach. "We're going to be parents!"

"We're going to be parents." You say to him and cup his face, letting your stored tears free fall from joy. "You and me."

"Just us." Fred wiped away your tears and sighed, resting his forehead on yours. "Us and the little one."

05/02/1998

You promised Fred you would stay home today. You promised him. But he never promised he would return home to you, causing you to rush over to the Hogwarts as soon as possible. When you arrived, the war was already won, but you didn't care. You wanted to see your husband.

“Where is he?” You ask the first person you find, sighing in relief when you see the youngest Weasley. You excused yourself and ran over to her, grasping Ginny’s arm before seeing her solemn expression, making you internally panic. “Ginny, where is your brother?”

Although you never specified, she knew exactly who you were asking for. She bit her lip and pointed to where George was kneeling, burying her head in your shoulder. You felt your heart constrict as you held her closely, breath catching at the sight in front of you. Molly was wiping her own tears when she saw you, pulling her daughter away from you so you could see Fred yourself.

“No no no no no no.” You fall to your knees and catch your breath, looking at Fred through wet eyes. A sob threatened to escape your throat when you felt for his hand, the warmth of his hand now gone and replaced with cold. You choked on tears and let yourself cry, hiding your face in his shoulder.

You begged the universe for this to be a horrible joke that everyone was in on. That Fred was okay and well, only pretending to be dead.

"Freddie, please." You cry and clutch his hand tighter, feeling for the gold band that represented your everlasting love. "I need you to wake up, Weasley. I-I can't do this without you. How am I s-supposed to—" You choked on your words, sobbing once more. You couldn't even finish your sentences.

When you felt a pair of arms pull you away from Fred, reality hit you like a train wreck. You stumbled over your feet as you stared at his dead body. Fred Weasley was really gone.

"What happened?" You whisper and stare at Fred, tears still falling. You felt so helpless. You were a healer and there was nothing you could do. When no one answered you, you whipped around and stared at whoever carried you away, another sob threatening to spill over when you saw George. "What happened, George?"

“There was an explosion.” He whispered and pulled you into a hug, letting you cry for a second. He had his last moment with Fred, but you hadn't seen him in hours.

You sobbed and collapsed in his arms, cries ringing out into the Great Hall. The pain you felt was nothing like you ever experienced before. You did everything you could do try and deny it, but no matter what you thought of, the sight of his dead body seemed to appear.

“George, why are we at Hogwarts?” You huff and follow him into a restricted room.

You weren't even supposed to be at Hogwarts and somehow you were standing on the very grounds your heart shattered. Your daughter just started a few weeks ago, but George somehow convinced you to return and dragged you to a room you've never seen before.

George glanced down at you, noticing your distant gaze, like you weren't safe inside the building anymore. “Have you been to Hogwarts since the war?”

“No.” You purse your lips and push the thought of the war away, brows creasing when you see how clean and furbished the room was. “Why? I need to get going soon. My shift—"

“Just look.” He pointed toward one side of the room, revealing the little contents of the room.

You frowned when you looked over. There was nothing of interest. “I can see the Mirror of Erised and a covered portrait.”

“Pull the bloody cover off.” George rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, shaking his head when you stuck your tongue out at him.

“Okay, but I’m not looking at the mirror.” You sighed and covered your eyes when passing the mirror. When you stood in front of the portrait, you pulled the cover off and gave George an annoyed smile. “I don’t understand—" When he gestured for you to look back over, you rolled your eyes before gasping, dropping the cloth without realizing a piece of parchment was attached to the front of it. "Oh my, Fred Weasley.”

“Hi, lovey.” Fred winked at you, wearing that smirk you haven't seen in years. When he saw tears falling from your face, he frowned and seemingly reached out to you. “Why are you crying? Did George upset you?”

“No, in fact he made me happy.” You spoke through tears and wiped your tears, smiling sadly. “I get to see you again.”

Fred grinned again and clapped his hands. “It’s been forever since I saw you last, Lupin. Where were you?”

You furrow your brows and look at George in confusion. “Does he—?” George shook his head and handed you the parchment that fell. You quickly peeled it open and wiped your tears once more as you read the contents. "He made it for a prank he never committed to." You huff and shake your head before responding to Fred. “I’ve been out and about, Weasley.”

He tilted his head and scanned your figure up and down, confusion written all over his face. “It seems as if we have a predicament here.”

“And what is that?” You murmur and step closer to the portrait, not realizing George had left you alone to have a moment with Fred.

“I want to hug you, but the best I can do is talk.” Fred sent you a lopsided grin and blew a kiss at you, making you laugh.

“Seems like a big problem.” You nod in agreement and sigh, wrapping your arms around your midsection. “I’ll understand what you mean.”

“In that case, I’m giving you the biggest hug right now.” Fred spread his arms wide and pretended to give you a hug before his eyes caught the gold ring around your left hand. “Where’d you get the ring, lovey?”

“Uhm…” You look down and spin the ring, smiling down at the piece of jewelry. “I got it from you a bit ago.”

Fred beamed in joy before he flattened again, looking around like he could see past the frame. “Where am I?”

“Home.” You muster a smile and wipe a tear that managed to escape, hands shaking. “You’re at home with your mum and dad. Don’t worry though, they wanted to actually hang out with you.”

Fred scoffed and shook his head, “Still rude as ever, Lupin.”

“Not as bad as you, Weasley.” You laugh softly and hold back anymore tears, hands finding Fred’s adjacent ring hanging around your neck. “I miss you.”

“I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

727 notes · View notes

girllblogging777 · 6 months ago

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i truly believe spending halloween at hogwarts would heal me

678 notes · View notes

kisses-for-you · 5 months ago

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jealous - g. weasley

george weasley x fem!reader

summary: when george sees you together with cedric, he quickly starts to feel jealous. w/c: 1.8k

The library was fairly quiet, which was nothing out of the ordinary. You always loved the library for this reason; it was a great place to just sit down and focus. You were sat across from Cedric, looking at the Charms textbook in front of the two of you. Nonverbal spells were something you had recently been introduced to as sixth year students and they certainly were not easy. However, Cedric had been a surprisingly good partner - calm, patient, and able to lighten the mood when you needed it.

"Okay, try this one," he said, his voice light as he leaned forward, pointing at a spell in the textbook. His eyes sparked with amusement and you could tell he was trying to hide a smile.

With a sharp breath, you thought of a spell in your mind, your wand flicking in the air, but yet, nothing happened. A frustrated sigh escaped you, and Cedric let out a laugh that filled the silence of the library.

"Honestly, I think it works better when you don't try so hard," Cedric teased, leaning back in his chair with an easy grin. "You're tense. Relax, like this." He demonstrated a subtle flick of his wrist, his expression serious for a moment, then the faintest shimmer of light twinkled from his wand's tip. "See?"

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the smile that tugged at your lips. "You're just showing off, Ced."

He chuckled, clearly enjoying the moment. "And you're just jealous," he teased. You responded with a playful eye roll as he poked fun at you, both of you laughing as your conversation started to flow in a different direction.

It was then that George walked in, his familiar presence filling the space before you even saw him. His footsteps slowed when he saw you and Cedric, both of you too caught up in your little world to notice his arrival at first. He stood there for a moment, watching as you both chuckled at something Cedric had just said.

George's usual smirk was nowhere to be found. His gaze shifted between you and Cedric, an unfamiliar tightness in his chest that he couldn't quite ignore. He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against a nearby bookshelf, trying his best to keep his tone casual. "Well, you two definitely look cozy," George said, his voice more clipped than usual.

You glanced up, surprised at his sudden interruption. You tried to ignore what he said as you didn't want to cause a scene in front of Cedric and anyone else in the library. A small wave of guilt hit you, but you brushed it off, offering him a warm smile. "Babe! What's up?" you asked.

George's eyes flickered with a mixture of frustration and something you couldn't quite place, but his voice was calm, almost too calm. "Nothing. Just wanted to see if you were ready to head out," he replied, his gaze still fixed on you, though it kept darting back to Cedric. The way his jaw clenched told you everything you needed to know - he wasn't happy.

You stood up, pushing your chair back with a small scrape of wood against the floor. "Yeah, I'll be done in a minute," you said, glancing at Cedric. "Thanks for helping me with the spell work," you added, offering him a smile, but George's stiff posture didn't escape your attention.

Without another word, George turned and started walking toward the door, his steps heavier than usual, the sharp click of his shoes echoing in the otherwise quiet library. A twinge of guilt pinched at you as you watched him, his back now to you, and you felt your stomach twist.

"George!" you called after him, voice a little too loud for the library. His shoulders stiffened, but he didn't turn around.

You glanced back at Cedric, who seemed to be trying his best to look neutral, but you could see the understanding in his eyes. He gave you a small nod, telling you to go ahead and deal with whatever was going on with George. So you quickly grabbed your things, tossing your books into your bag and hurrying after George. He was already halfway down the corridor when you caught up, walking briskly with his head down, clearly trying to make a point.

"George, wait," you said, catching up to him and placing a hand on his arm. He stopped, but only briefly, his muscles tense under your touch. His eyes flickered over to you, and for a split second, you could see the storm brewing in them.

"Are you really gonna do this now?" he asked, his voice laced with a biting edge.

"Do what?" you asked, your heart pounding. "George, What's going on? Why are you acting like this?"

He turned to face you fully, his expression tight with something you couldn't quite read. "I don't know, maybe I'm just tired of seeing you always acting so lovey dovey with Cedric. That's all," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

You blinked, taken aback by his words. "What? George, it's nothing like that. We're just studying," you said, trying to reassure him, but the way his lips pressed together made you feel like he wasn't buying it.

"Yeah, sure, studying," he repeated, his voice low and heavy with jealousy. "Doesn't seem like just studying to me."

A wave of frustration hit you. "You're being ridiculous," you said, exasperated, but there was no anger in your voice, just concern. "We're friends, George. Why does it bother you so much?"

For a long moment, he didn't speak, and you couldn't quite tell if he was holding back or just trying to figure out what to say. When he finally met your eyes, it was with a look you hadn't really seen from him before - vulnerable, unsure, and maybe even a little hurt.

"Because," he began quietly, his voice softer now, "I don't like seeing you acting like that with someone else. I care about you so much more than you know."

Your heart skipped at his words, and the realization hit you like a wave. Before you could respond, George turned on his heel again, starting to walk away.

"George, wait!" you called once again, your voice more urgent this time, and you jogged after him. When you finally caught up to him, you grabbed his arm again, a little more firmly this time. "Stop walking away from me," you said, your voice wavering slightly but firm enough to make him pause.

He turned to you, his expression a mix of frustration and pain. "What do you want me to say, huh?" George snapped, though his voice cracked at the end. "That I'm jealous? Fine. I am. Happy now?"

The confession hung in the air between you, his words echoing in your mind. Your breath hitched as you looked at him, his vulnerability written all over his face. This wasn't the playful, confident George you were used to. This was someone raw, someone real, someone afraid.

"I- George..." You stumbled over your words, unsure of what to say. "I didn't mean to make you feel like that. Cedric and I; there's nothing going on. I promise."

He let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through his hair. "It's not just about Cedric. It's about me feeling like I don't even compare. Like I'm not enough for you."

Your heart ached at his words, and you stepped closer, reaching up to cup his face. He flinched slightly at the touch but didn't pull away. "You're wrong," you said softly, your voice trembling. "You are more than enough. You always have been."

His gaze searched yours, looking for the truth in your words. For a moment, he didn't say anything and you worried he still didn't believe you. But then, he sighed deeply, his shoulders relaxing as the tension began to ebb away. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "I shouldn't have acted like that. I just- seeing you with him, like that, it messed with my head."

You smiled faintly, your thumb brushing over his cheek. "It's okay. But you have to trust me, George. I love you, not Cedric. You're the only one I want to be with."

His eyes softened at your words, and a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "You really mean that?"

"Of course I do, you idiot," you said with a laugh, the tension between you finally breaking. "Now, can go get something to eat? I'm starving after today."

He chuckled, the sound lighter this time. "Yeah, okay. But only if I get to carry your bag."

You rolled your eyes but handed it over, watching as he slung it over his shoulder with a triumphant grin. The two of you walked side by side down the corridor, the earlier tension now almost nowhere to be seen.

Later that evening, as you sat with George in the cozy warmth of the Gryffindor common room, you couldn't help but notice how he seemed to be trying just a little harder than usual. His jokes were coming faster, his signature grin wider and brighter than ever. He was pulling out all the stops to make you laugh - and it was working.

"You know," you said between giggles as he mimicked one of Fred's particularly awful impressions, "we're going to wake the whole school at this rate."

George smirked, leaning back dramatically on the sofa. "If they wake up, it'll be worth it. Everyone can hear me cracking you up," he teased, nudging your knee with his. His playful expression softened as he added, "But really, I just like seeing you happy. That laugh of yours? It's mine to hear."

The sincerity in his voice made your chest ache, and you reached over to take his hand in yours. "It is," you agreed softly, your fingers intertwining with his. "And for the record, no one can make me laugh like you can, George Weasley."

A smug grin spread across his face, and he puffed out his chest exaggeratedly. "Obviously," he said, with mock arrogance. "Cedric might be good at spells, but he's got nothing on my comedic genius."

You snorted, swatting at his arm playfully. "You're impossible," you said, but your voice was full of affection.

"Impossible to resist," he countered, leaning in and brushing a soft kiss against your forehead.

As the fire crackled beside you, you nestled closer into his side. George's arm wrapped around your shoulders, and you felt the earlier tension melt away completely. There might be other people in your life, but at the end of the day, George was the one who truly knew how to make you feel at home.

H.P. masterlist

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #harry potter #harry potter characters #imagine #harry potter fic #harry potter and the goblet of fire #george weasley angst

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peachigummi · 11 months ago

Text

test my luck ꢾ꣒ mattheo riddle.

summary: enemy to lovers! Mattheo and y/n have been each other's biggest haters since year 1, they're in their final year at Hogwarts. Mattheo finally pushes y/n to the edge, with his venomous words and guilt tactics.

pairing: enemy! mattheo x fem ravenclaw! reader

warnings: not for the faint of heart! mature themes/language. mentions of abuse. slow burn? bullying angst!! oh my god angst, but ends with some bittersweet fluff I promise! attempted suicide sorry (after reading this back, i dont mean it to be manipulation or to glorify or romanticize but! shit!! for a plot?)

note: i haven't written anything in literal years, the pov is going to shift a lot so bear with me. i honestly just lost any sense of motivation. but something in me just bloomed. you wont see any hp things on this blog it is my journal and i feel like sharing! maybe a part 2 in the making. if this gets enough response.

word count: 6,828

(slightly not really proofread or fan fact checked? if that's a thing ha)

playlist: should i create..? you know damn well the smiths would be in it! like Bigmouth Strikes Again?? that is mattheo!

reblogs & comments are so appreciated! i hope you enjoy <3

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It was the start of your last year of Hogwarts, it was an okay time. You personally didn’t get into too much trouble, you liked to stick by yourself for the most part. You studied hard because your muggle parents were still confused about you being a witch, and what you would get out of it. It was hard to process that information, it was a thing of fairy tales. You had to prove yourself in this new world. That…that was hard when you were constantly looking over your shoulder for Mattheo Riddle.

“What’s a whore doing in my seat?” Speak of the damn devil.

You turned to look at him with a sarcastic smile, “Well hello to you too Mattheo.” You nod at the three other boys that were with him, each of their arms crossed. “Draco. Blaise. Theodore.” You return to look at Mattheo, “you know last time I checked… there are no assigned seats in Potions.” You looked around and the class was still fairly empty.

“Think again and think hard.” Mattheo spoke to you in a cold shallow tone, he barely looked at you. He circled around the table you were at, your eyes following him. He suddenly stopped right behind your chair, yanking it back. There was a loud scrape, the few students that were in the room turned to look at the scene unfolding. You didn’t meet any of their eyes. Mattheo slammed his hand on the side of the table, making you flinch. You hated that you reacted that way. He grabbed the back of your ponytail, forcing your head forward where his hand was, “Look.” M. Riddle. D. Malfoy. B. Zabini. T. Nott. Their names were carved into the side. You grabbed Mattheo’s hand, the one that was still holding onto your ponytail, you tried to pry his icy cold fingers off. It only made him tighten his grip, he bent down to get close to your face, “I suggest you move unless you want me to carve my name onto your face as well.” he spat and finally let go.

“Whatever,” you gathered your books, “this seat sucks anyways. I’ll go hang out with Professor Snape up front.” You rolled your eyes as Draco lit up a cigarette, handing the pack to the boys to share. If you’re going to try and get away with smoking, yeah do it in the back of the class I guess.

“You really like being a teacher’s pet don’t you? That’s why you’ve always got your nose up Snape’s ass.”

“Seriously fuck off! Go continue to lose brain cells with your sorry excuse of friends.” You push the seat back and let it topple over. You mentally slapped yourself, you shouldn’t be feeding into his remarks.

“That’s cute sunshine, I’ll bet you have a hard time standing up for yourself in every aspect of your pathetic life. Do better.” Mattheo smugly said, smoking the cigarette that was in his hand.

You opened your mouth to speak but decided against it, you ended up just flipping him off. He did the same, giving you an annoyed look. You took the seat next to Hermione in the front of the class. Ugh! That Mattheo. “Are you okay?!” She asked, shooting daggers at the group, turning to you again “How can you put up with that? We have to tell someone..” you shook my head and whispered, “it’ll only make things worse. I don’t want to be a snitch. It’s already been six years anyways… how can one more year really change things.”

Blaise laughed, “you like that don’t you mattheo? Isn’t she so cute when she’s angry, you like feisty girls, yeah?”

Draco chuckles, “oh he definitely does, too bad she’s a stupid bitch.” The group laughs together.

You could hear them hollering from the back. You tried to calm yourself down and pay attention to the different measurements of the potions you were being taught. Maybe I could switch this class to a different time. You thought, focusing back to the lesson when Professor Snape mentioned something about needing to be in groups of three for an upcoming project.

Before Snape could assign anyone, Mattheo spoke up, “Sir I’d like to work with Theodore, if that’s permitted.” Snape looked annoyed by his interjection but answered, “No, Theodore will be with Y/N and Draco. Nothing will change. I already made the groups, they will be posted near the storeroom.” He gave Mattheo a dirty look.

You could hear Draco scoff but he didn't say anything. Yet. He kept to himself and his buddies while they continued to smoke and do other things to piss Professor Snape off before the class was finally dismissed. I guess I didn’t need to worry about being in a pair with Mattheo. You still wanted to protest against the group choice, but nothing would come of it. You knew better than to go against Snape’s final word. Theodore wasn’t such a horrible person, he actually can be pretty smart and helpful, if you got him alone. Otherwise when he was with even just one of his buddies, he was just like them - a jerk. It was Draco you won’t be able to stand.

“Don't do anything stupid, Y/L/N, and we might actually do okay in this project.” That was Draco himself, walking over with Theodore.

You ignored his comment, “where should we meet and when?”

“We can use one of the abandoned classrooms. Before the lunch break?” Theodore suggested, handing a note with directions.

“Okay. See you.” You said as bluntly as possible, gathering your book. You went to grab the ingredients your group might need.

“Teachers pet!” Draco yelled after.

⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝

Of course you were the first to the abandoned classroom, you had been waiting for nearly twenty minutes before either of them showed. When they did, they didn’t bother to apologize, though you didn’t expect them to. Even with smart comments from both boys, you finished discussing the project and the presentation at a decent hour. It was quiet as you started to collect your things, Draco excused himself earlier to collect a package.

“Y/N, why is it that you hate Mattheo so much?” Theodore broke the silence, carefully watching you wrap the vials carefully. You paused, taken back. “He’s been trying to get a rise out of you since day 1, why?” He continued nonchalantly, leaning back in his chair. He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket.

You quickly grab them out of his hand and put it in your own breast pocket, “don’t smoke around me.”

This made him annoyed, “Hey! I need those! They keep me calm!”

“No you don't, you've been fine this entire time without them. I’m not trying to raise your blood pressure right now. You’re fine.” You give him a good look, maybe he was playing dumb. How could he not know? Theodore and Mattheo were best friends; they must have already talked about this, “I only hate Mattheo because he hates me. It’s all there's to it…” I think.

He lingers for a moment after you answered him, there is something else you haven’t said, “tell me what you think. There’s always some deeper reason for this sort of stuff” He rested his chin on his hand. See this is why I favored Theodore from the rest of his group, but should I still trust him? He could use this information against me. I took the chance.

“Over the years I suspected it was just plainly because I was a mudblood and not some perfect pure-bred like you folk.” You continued to wrap the vials carefully.

Theodore rolled his eyes, “He does have a thing against people with different backgrounds than his own. He thinks everyone in this school should be from a wizarding family. But that’s not the case with you.” He grabbed a vial too, helping me wrap them, “He’s never said anything about your parents or how they’re muggles.” Mattheo would talk about me when I wasn’t around? Why would he do that? You looked into his eyes searching for some joke or underlying lie. There was none I could detect.

You recall the moment aloud when you first laid your eyes on Mattheo, “It was at the train station. Our first year. I remember hugging and kissing my parents goodbye, not wanting to let go of them. I turned around to go on the train and there was a much much smaller Mattheo staring at me with wide beady little eyes that were glossed over with tears. He was cute in that split second - ” You couldn’t help but smile at the memory. Theodore watched you carefully. You straightened your lips, continuing, “ - before he stuck a solid wad of gum in my hair.”

Theodore bellowed, nearly falling backwards in his chair, “Yeah that sounds like him, that’s a classic stunt he’d pull off. There was this one time in year 5 when he stuck gum on the chair of one of the professors before class…I never saw her so mad after she sat down and got up, her chair nearly followed her around!” He tried to settle himself down, “Mattheo always had a thing for doing stuff to people and acting as if it’s all a joke.”

“It’s not a joke when you have to cut your hair super short in order to remove the gum. I felt so naked without my long hair, it was so beautiful! And he made it worse when he made a point to show how ugly I was to everyone in the Great Hall. I even remember you laughing just like you are now.” You pushed his shoulder.

Theodore smirked, “yeah we all laughed, how couldn’t we?! You looked ridiculous before you grew it back out. We used to call you Baldy McEgg-head. You’d get so mad, only making us laugh harder.” At least someone cherished the memory. You rolled your eyes.

It grew quiet again, “have you ever met Mattheo’s parents? Has he ever talked to you about them?”

“No. I’ve never met them. He’s never really talked about his parents or his life outside Hogwarts. I don’t think he’s on great terms with his dad. He always stayed with them during the breaks, and wasn't ever allowed to spend it with us or here at hogwarts. He missed out on a lot of important hang outs. I wished he was there for them” Theodore explained, he sounded disappointed and angry.

“Do…do you think he’s jealous of my home life? The affection I was receiving in front of him at the train station…”

He thinks for a moment, “I suppose it could be a possibility…hard to tell. He doesn’t allow himself to show too much emotion, again, probably has to do with the way he must have been raised.”

You wanted to do more research into Mattheo’s family…but how? “Thanks for this Teddy. You’ve given me a lot to think about.” You finished packing everything into your bag. Before you left you tossed him back his pack of cigarettes, “see you later.”

⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝

You let out a sigh of relief, to be alone once again. Mettheo Riddle, what secrets do you hide? You made your way to the library instead of the Great Hall. After a few hours of searching around the library, you finally find a section of massive thick old leather bound books. You blew on the covers, these books contained a record of all the wizards and witches that had attended Hogwarts. Kind of like a yearbook, but it told you what came of them. Who married who, what did they end up doing after Hogwarts, etc. a rare but quite the gem of a find. “R… R.. R” you whispered, touching the book ends. You look at the bottom of the bookshelf finding the one that contained the last names that began with R. You found it, and you began to look through for the name “Riddle.”

Just as you got to the last name, you felt a wave of shame. You were snooping into somebody’s life. Their history. This is wrong. If Mattheo wanted to talk about his home life, surely he would have. He was hiding something. There were heavy slow footsteps coming around the corner of the aisle. You snapped the book shut holding it behind you and you looked at the section opposite of where you just were. Mattheo, they were his steps, you could tell.

“Of course you’d be in the library doing nerd stuff.” He doesn’t sound happy, but also when is he truly ever?

You looked at him then around yourself, “who me? A nerd for being in the library?” I mean he wasn’t wrong but ..yeah. You still point at him, “Where are you then? Because it seems to be you’re also in the library with…” you fake gasp, “...Me! Making you a nerd too!” You hoped that confused him, you shifted the leather book behind your back. It was getting heavy by the second.

“I’m ditching classes to smoke,” He takes a rip of a cigarette that was nearly at its end, he blows the smoke in your face. “Nerd.”

“Whoop-dee-doo what a stellar insult Mettheo. I’m a ravenclaw. What did you expect? I’d rather be a nerd than a-” You took a step closer to him squinting then widening your eyes in horror, “oh my god Mattheo did you lose a tooth from all that smoking?” He quickly shoved his pinky into his mouth feeling his teeth in a panic. If there was one thing he cared more about than cigarettes it was keeping up with his good looks. Uh did I just describe him as good looking?

He actually laughed once he finished counting his teeth, “They’re perfectly fine. I care about taking care of myself, unlike you. How often do you wash yourself? I doubt you even brush your hair. I did you a favor when you had to cut it off. You have no sense of style, even with a selection of uniforms! Why do you dress like it’s winter all year? You dress like a peasant from the 1820’s”

Okay ouch, that kinda hurt. You’ve been insecure with your body, you always struggled with that. Dressing in sweaters helped hide it. You didn’t know how to respond, maybe he's right. You couldn’t stand up for yourself to save your life. You just shoved his shoulder with your own and walked past him.

Matthew continues to follow you, “did you just shove me you twat?” He snatched the book out of my arms holding it a ways away from you, “If you’re going to do sneaky shit, don’t do it so obviously. Is this a diary or something?” Your eyes widened trying to take it back, but he held it up high above his head easily with one hand.

“Yes! It’s my diary, it’s where I gush about the god almighty perfect Mattheo!” I sarcastically said, still hoping he wouldn’t look at the title of the book. “No stupid! I dont have one, I just got done working on the potions project with your buddies. Hand me back the book.”

“Oh I bet you three had lots of fun. Did you talk about me while you were there? Did you talk about how you can’t take your eyes and mind off of me? You’re clearly obsessed, following me around like a love sick puppy. You pop up wherever I happen to be.”

“Ew no never.” You fought your expression back, did Theodore tell him something? Fuck. “Draco left, it was just Teddy and I. we spent it kissing the whole time. Super carefree. His lips surprisingly didn't taste like cigarettes, they were pretty sweet.”

Mattheo’s smug smirk fades even before you finish your sentence. He hated how you used a nickname for his friend. He despised the thought of you kissing anyone, especially his mates, “fucking liar. THEODORE, not TEDDY, doesn’t like you. He just tolerates you because he has to. He wouldn’t be caught dead kissing you. You’re disgusting and I pity anyone who has the displeasure of touching you in any way other than to harm you.

You hold your hands up, “woah woah woah, whatever makes you sleep peacefully at night. Why else did Teddy take me to an abandoned classroom, it was our chance to get away together especially after Draco conveniently left.” You couldn’t believe you were lying through your teeth, this would forsure come back and bite you in the ass even harder. You haven’t even had your first kiss yet. You haven't even been romantically linked with anyone before.

“Stop fucking calling him Teddy, it’s Theodore!”

“Can you guys get a room or SHUT UP! For Merlin’s Sake” A random student yelled out at us. Slamming their hand on the table. You were embarrassed because you took pride in keeping the library a sacred place to study or relax.

“Piss off. Go find a room of your own instead of listening to us talking. You must be a first year, if you’re still so sensitive to other’s voices in the library.” He continued to raise his voice, “We’ve been like this for years! Blah blah blah!!”

“Stop it Mattheo.” You shove him again, mouthing to the student, I'm very sorry. With the distraction you go and grab the book in Mattheo’s hand but he quickly readjusts his grip.

“You don’t have to apologize for me, sunshine. You should apologize to him for your existence, do everyone a favor will you?” He finally looked down at the title of the book, Who Were They and Where They Now?: Hogwarts. He carefully used a single finger to pry it open to where the fabric bookmark was, immediately seeing his own surname. He gives a manic laugh looking up at your face and slamming the book down to the floor, “you stalker. You are obsessed with me.”

He lunged at you. You took a step back, you hit the shelving. Your heart was beating so fast you thought you would pass out from the red handed guilt.

“What kind of information were you looking to find huh?” He pointed a finger at me, his eyes ice cold. Looking to murder. Your head suddenly hurt, there was a high pitched ringing that wouldn't stop. You went to cover your ears to find some relief but Mattheo grabbed you and shook hard, “what the FUCK did you think you would find? Tell me. Tell me NOW!” You didn’t know what to say he just stared hard at you, his nails digging into your arms. You winced. He began to speak fast and harshly as if he knew, as if you had said something.

“Did you really expect you would find out that I had a happy home? Do you think I’m happy being born in some dingy hovel? Do you think I'm overjoyed to be related to and be abused by my father? He beat me black and blue and hated my existence. My mother just sat there silently watching. She doesn’t care. Would YOU be thrilled knowing that you came from a long line of dark wizards who’ve caused pain and suffering to people for centuries.”

You began to cry, “Mattheo..”

“You honestly think I would be so proud of that to tell everyone?” He scoffed.

“Mattheo you’re hurting me…”

“I. Don’t. Care.” His deep brown eyes didn’t leave yours, “you should have minded your own business. Stupid girl prying into my history. What do you care? Did you think I'd be less of a jerk to you if I had a perfect loving family like yours? ”

“I’m sorry…I’m sorry! I .. I.”

“Shut up. You don't get to speak. I don't need you feeling sorry for me, I can handle myself. This is probably the worst you’ll ever experience.”

“Y-You’re right. I’m.. I’m grateful I never had to e-endure that” You were one stuttering mess.

He moves one hand to cup your mouth to shut you up again, “what did i say. I don't want to hear another word out of your mouth.” He rose the other up threateningly.

You closed your eyes. Do it Mattheo. Please. I deserve it. I’m sorry I tried to pry. Do it. He was surprised by your offer and looked at you in confusion, his expression didn’t change though. “What kind of sick request is that?” You open your eyes again to meet his. Both of you were in disbelief, did he just-? “Why would you want me to beat you? Because you feel bad for me? I don’t want nor need your sympathy. Trying to act like a saint that's willing to be my punching bag whenever I want.” he scoffed, letting your mouth free, taking a single step back away from you.

“Then why are you so mean to me? Tell me that. When I first laid eyes on you during our first year at the train platform, I thought we would be friends.” You wrapped your arms around yourself, rubbing where his fingers had dug into you.

“You’re a prissy annoying know-it-all goody two shoes that thinks she’s better than everyone. You can’t help but chime in whenever you have the chance and show off.”

“So it’s just my existence then huh, nothing else to it?” You felt your own anger finally rise, you wiped your tears off your cheek trying to regain composure.

“Pretty much. You’re unbearable. You are the most unexciting thing I’ve ever encountered.”

“Let me fix that for you.” Your eyes betrayed you and let the gates open, the flood starting to spill once more. Before Mattheo could get another hold of you you quickly shuffled off, dropping your things. Already feeling limp. Just hoping your legs would carry you a bit more.

Mattheo rolls his eyes, “tsk so stupid.” He stood there staring at the place you once were. Thinking about what occurred when he processed what you said, “Y/N! Hey I-..” He began to follow in the direction you went off to.

Your shuffle turned into a run, you just needed privacy. Anything. Your dorm was too far away, so you went into the nearest girls bathroom and into the furthest stall to sob.

Mattheo reaches the hallway, looking to his left and right. Fuck where did she go? He closes his eyes to listen closely. He heard something faint and went with his gut.

You sat down beside the toilet, hitting your head with your fist. “Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.” You heard a familiar giggle, “go away Myrtle. Now’s especially not the time.”

Bathroom, you had to be in the bathroom. He went inside not caring if another girl would see him, “Y/N? You’re in here, I know you are. Look, just come out will you?” Instead Moaning Myrtle came forth.

“Are you looking for me?” she bit her finger looking him up and down, “we don't get that many cute boys in here.” She sighed, still admiring him, “Nevertheless, shame on you. How could someone as delicious as you treat someone so horribly.” She laughed in his face.

“Shut up. I don't need to be lectured by some depressed ghost. Why are you even here. Go away.” He went further inside the bathroom pushing doors in, “actually have you seen a girl come in, Y/N?”

“Yes!” She said excitedly pointing to the last stall, “She’s coming with me and we’ll get to haunt together. It’ll be so fun to not be alone anymore” She broke into another high pitched laugh, clapping her hands with joy.

“What the hell is she on about?” That’s when he noticed broken glass from a mirror. His heart drops, “you’ve got to be kidding me…” He rushed over pushing the final door in, but this one wouldn’t budge. “Y/N. It’s Mattheo..” his heart drops and he pales when he notices blood start to seep out from under the door, you’ve hurt yourself. “Y/N!” He says again louder, “open the door! Open it right fucking now! Y/N!!”

You didn’t want him to see you like this, no one should have to see this. You try to hold the door closed but you were losing your strength to do anything. The blood made it slippery so your hand slid down, “M-m-mattheo haven’t..you said enough?”

Myrtle pointed to the glass, “look how eager she was! Damaging school property to break free” She did a couple spins in the air, “any minute now!”

“That’s it. I’ve had enough.” Mattheo raised his wand and shot a blast at the lock, it broke open and he flung the door open to reveal you laying on the floor. His heart seemed to stop completely. “Shit! Dammit! Y/N!”

The blast frightened you, “No. Mattheo. No.” You could only make out his dark curly haired head. You tried to swat him away before losing consciousness due to blood loss.

Professor Snape rushed in after hearing a blast, “what the bloody hell is going on in here, Mr. Riddle.”

Mattheo looked at him with an angry and panicked expression, “I need her in the infirmary right now.” He said through gritted teeth. He leans over you, grabbing a large bunch of toilet paper and quickly kneels next to you. Applying pressure on your bleeding left wrist.

Snape understood immediately, “Keep the pressure on the wrist, Riddle.” He was able to pick you up easily, but he was not enthusiastic about having your blood staining his robes, “with HASTE Riddle! Follow me!” And off they went to the infirmary. Once there Snape quickly laid you on a bed gently before Madame Pomfrey took over.

She was able to stop and clean the bleeding, while she examined the cut striation she asked both Snape and Mattheo what blood type they were, “The girls lost too much blood, she needs a transfusion.” She began to stitch the wrist, the cut was near vertical to the veins.

Mattheo in a less than a split second looked at Pomfrey, “Am I able to donate for her.” He didn’t say it as a question, he wanted it to be a command.

“As long as you share the same blood type then yes, sweetheart. Please, fresh blood is much better. We can’t wait more time, Ms. Y/L/N is so terribly pale. She can have a seizure any minute if we dont get more blood to her brain” still carefully pulling at threads. His hand was still holding yours.

He nods impatiently, less talking, more action. “I’m AB-” he gulped. One of the rarest blood types in the world, “what type is she?” he began to roll up his sleeve even before Pomfrey was able to respond.

“Goodheavens! Thank Merlin. She’s AB- as well!” She sighs looking up at the ceiling for a split second, calling for a nurse to help set up the transfusion. He took a seat on your left, watching the nurse insert a needle into each of your arms. He didn’t flinch, but he gave her a threatening look when she inserted a needle into your arm, thinking she would bring more pain to you.

Madame Pomfrey stood up, finished. “If it was with a straight razor and not a glass shard, I don’t think i would have been able to-” she let her voice die down after seeing how pale Mattheo began to look too, she shut her mouth as to not worry him more with what the other alternative was. He couldn’t hide his guilt. His eyes were alternating between your face and his blood that was slowly running into your body through a single tubing. He desperately needed it to go faster.

“Is there a chance she would wake up with problems with her veins or her nerves?” He asked.

Pomfrey patted the boy's shoulders, “Let’s hope not, let’s hope they hold. With the basics in place, there’s nothing a little magic can’t help.” This eased him, “Ms. Y/L/N wont wake for a couple of hours. She needs to be watched to make sure she doesn’t rip my stitching job or we will go back to square one my boy. Can I trust you?”

“Is that really a necessary question?” He bit his tongue, “Sorry, yes I will watch over her. I need to be here when she wakes up.”

“Best she gets a psychiatrist too, but that's a later issue to address. We’ll focus on physical healing for now.” Pomfrey looked at Mattheo curiously, isn’t this one of the trouble-making slytherin boys? She shook her head and walked out to attend to another student.

“Y/N i’m here.” He studies your face, deep with regret and guilt. He holds your right hand tightly, he whispers softly, “it’s okay, you’re going to be alright..”

“Riddle.” Snape was still watching everything from the shadows of the room, “What happened to my best student, why is he in this condition?”

“It’s my fault, Professor…I was making a fool out of myself. I was treating her like hell… it went too far. She must have had a breakdown and she-” he couldn’t bear to describe your condition out loud.

Snape held a hand up to silence him from saying more, “rather than giving you detention for the rest of your time here at Hogwarts. I will need you to attend all the girl’s classes she will be missing in her recovery. She must not fall behind.”

“Yes sir, I understand. I’ll do it.”

Snape turned to leave but came back toward the boy and yanked the cigarette box from his uniform pocket, “none of these for you either, especially as you are sharing blood with Y/N. She never liked you smoking.” and off he turned around to change his own robes from the blood.

“Anything for you.” he whispered towards you, “please wake up soon.”

⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝

You began to stir, your eyes fluttering open. You looked around in a panic. You were incredibly sore, especially your left wrist. It stung badly. Mattheo had fallen asleep in the chair when he jolted awake to the sound of your movements, “Calm down, relax, you’re in the infirmary. You’re safe.” He couldn’t help but feel like he just lied about it being safe, if he was the cause of this.

“M…m..Mattheo” You began to cry again, “I’m so sorry.” You went to reach out and hug him but flinched. You followed the red transfusion line to him, “oh Mattheo.”

He sat up to lean towards you. He shushes you and wipes your tears with the back of his hand, ‘you need to calm down and take it easy, princess. You’ve lost a lot of blood and you're still weak. This is just to bring your levels up, you’ll start to feel better soon.”

You stared at his beautiful eyes, ones that had held so much hate but there seemed to be no trace of it now. You felt guilty, I acted like a coward. “Myrtle said it was going to be quick and painless. I’m so stupid I couldn’t even do it right.” You felt another wave of tears coming but you tried to choke them down.

“No youre not, you’re not at fault.” He couldn’t help but chuckle cautiously as what he was about to say, “you might be a know-it-all but you just need to have more control with your thoughts. Don’t listen to Moaning Myrtle. Don’t be hard on yourself, you're not stupid. You did nothing wrong.”

“I thought I was doing you a favor.” you were so exhausted. But you needed to get this out before you lost consciousness again. With your good arm you help his hand tightly, looking him in the eyes again to emphasize the point you were going to make, “Mattheo, I really am idiotic. I Am. I did think you had a perfect life, it didn’t cross my mind that you had it any other way. You were always carefree and just let's be honest, acting like you're’ better than everyone else. It was wrong of me to have assumed that.”

He frowns. “Don’t apologize. There’s no way to tell what someone is going through ultimately. I..cope in my own way.” He softly strokes your cheek with this thumb.

If it wasn’t for the pain, you would have thought you were asleep. Dead. Or in purgatory. A realm between realms. No way the mattheo I’ve known my whole life is sitting beside me looking..lovingly at me? You felt horrible. Did I just manipulate him into caring about me? Just hours ago he was mocking and saying nasty things as usual.

Mattheo could see the look of disbelief in your eyes from the way he was behaving, “Y/N. I’m caring for you. No you’re not dreaming or in some other realm. You’re here, with me, thank Merlin. You didn’t manipulate me, you woke me up.”

You sat up too quickly for your own good, your head feeling light “How are you doing that?”

He shook his head, “Another time. I’m really sorry for how I treated you. You think I’m just some asshole, but I'm more than that really. I want to be more than that. No one else has gotten to see the real me.”

“Mattheo, I see you.” Despite your pain, you reach out to cup his face between your hands. For a second, you saw the boy you first laid your eyes on that first year at the train station. The same sad eyes, “I see you.”

He sighed into your touch, it was a soft and innocent gesture he was not used to. He chuckled softly, and gently placed his hands over yours, keeping them there. He didn’t want to lose the touch, “I know you do, and that’s exactly why I'm afraid.”

You couldn’t help but imagine - how different our lives could have been for the last 6 years, if he would have just introduced himself to me. Explained why he looked so pained when I was with my family. “My parents would have welcomed you as their own” you explained your thoughts to him. “I could have protected you. You could have visited me during the holiday breaks. I know saying it will not change the past and what has happened to you. But I see you Matty.”

“yeah..it’s too late to change the past, I should’ve but I didn’t think you’d understand. It doesn’t excuse the way I treated you all these years, Y/N.” His voice got shaky, his eyes starting to water. He was a mess.

“No, don't you start Mattheo please, baby.” You brought him into a hug, again ignoring your throbbing wrist. “Easy now.” you soothed the curls that were behind his neck. They felt so soft.

Mattheo rested his head on your shoulder and held you tightly, softly crying into you. He wrapped his arms around you and held onto your shirt like he was afraid to let go. He couldn’t remember the last time someone treated him like this, it felt so new and overwhelming.

You kissed the top of his head, inhaling - cigarettes. You hated that he smoked but at this moment the smalle was comforting. He let out a deep sigh. You broke the hug only because you scooted over on the bed, and tugged him to lay beside you. We watched you, he looked so tired. He nodded in agreement with a small smile, he carefully laid beside you, making sure to be careful of your condition.

You gave him a reassuring look that wasn’t hurting you. I’m okay. You looked at your arms touching side by side, still connected by the tubing. You couldn't help but laugh, “Matty isn’t it ironic? All this pure-blood and mudblood talk and look” you carefully lifted the tube, “we’re still one and the same foundation.” You smiled at him, helping wipe his tear stained cheeks now. “Thanks for your donation to me.”

He too couldn't help but grin back at you. He couldn’t believe you weren’t pushing him away for how he treated you, or for how vulnerable he was at the moment, “any time, but please actually don’t do that ever again. You made me worried to death..”

“No I won’t. Pinky promise.” You held out your pinky for him to take.

He took it in his own nodding, “good, you’re stuck with me now.”

With our pinkies still woven, you looked at the size difference. You turned toward his Bambi like eyes, “let's start this over on the right foot. Better late than never? Hi i’m Y/N, [insert some fun facts about yourself].”

Mattheo smiled more widely, blushing his pinky did make yours look kiddish. It was adorable. He gave you a playful look, smirking at you like he usually would, “Nice to meet you there, Y/N. I’m Mattheo, the sexiest guy you’ll meet in Hogwarts.”

There’s my Mattheo. “And you promise to…?” you coaxed him.

He gave your pinky another squeeze, “to try to be nice and kind to you, and avoid bullying you….as well as to not smoke in your presence…you happy?”

You kind of nodded, holding in your laugh, “aaaand…?”

He looked at you, trying to read what you wanted him to say. He gave your pinky another, slightly rougher, squeeze. “And I promise not to throw a wad of gum into your beautiful hair?”

“Bingo. Mr. Riddle, that’s what I was ultimately looking for.” You let go of his pinky, “but it is nice to know the other stuff too.” you waved your hand like it was nothing, but it was my everything. He gave you a sarcastic scoff, he liked that you were still acting like your old self too.

You kissed his cheek and his face went redder than a cherry, you acted shocked “woah did I just make Mattheo, the sexiest guy in Hogwarts BLUSH?!” You slapped your hands against your cheeks in play disbelief, slightly regretting the pain it brought to your arms. He quickly shook his head and blushed even more than originally thought possible, he tried to hide his face away from you, “S-shut up! That’s a lie! I was not blushing, it’s just your imagination.”

You laughed at his reaction, taking his hand in mine once more comparing the hand sizes. You put my head against his shoulder, before dropping your jester attitude. Making him form another pinky promise with you. “Mattheo, I promise to be there for you. I want to protect you. You shouldn’t live in the shadow of your home life, especially not alone. Just as much as I’m stuck with you. You’re stuck with me. That’s my promise to you.”

His heart beat fast, it nearly melted his heart to hear your promise. He let out a deep, shaky breath. He couldn't stop the small tear that rolled down his cheek, he didn’t bother wiping it. He just leaned his head down to rest on your own, “deal…”

There was a pause, before you spoke up again.“I know we just started the year but please, come back home with me this Christmas holiday when it rolls around.” You blinked up at him. You started to feel really sleepy, that was to be your last request and plea for the moment, “I’ll show you how muggles get down to holiday business.”

Mattheo looked down at you and smiled softly, as your eyes were struggling to stay open, “yea sure, i’ll spend the holidays with you” he wasn’t sure how he would, but he would worry about that later.

Many promises were made this day, and you intended to keep each and every single one of them. In many ways, you knew this would still be the same Mattheo you had always known, but it would all be so different now. You managed to break through his extremely guarded shell, the hardest way possible. But it needed to desperately be broken.

You turned Mattheo’s head to look at you, he met your gaze. The corner of his lip curled up as he knew what you were about to do. He let you take the lead, closing his eyes. You kissed his lips slowly, cherishing how it felt. You wanted more of him, but your body was pleading for rest. You hugged his arm and surrendered.

He couldn’t help but touch his lips afterwards with his fingertips. He watched as you gave in to exhaustion, he followed your lead and let out a deep sigh before closing his eyes, “Goodnight princess.” Mattheo fell asleep to the sounds of you breathing and the sound of your heartbeat, they would surely become one of the most blissful lullabies to be heard by him. He intertwined his fingers with yours, he wouldn’t ever let go.

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ervotica · 4 months ago

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hi lovely i have a little writing idea for you; reader is rushed to muggle hospital with appendicitis, fred is told and he apparates to be by her side, he panics when he sees she's unconscious and crys to mrs weasley about how he can't lose her (reader and fred can either be together or not)

the bestfriendverse; the one with the muggle hospital. you have your appendix removed. fred frets, and you drop some truth bombs.

warnings; fem!reader, hospital talk, pining, yearning (bring back yearning men!!!), no established relationship, idiots in love <3

Your mother has stepped out of the room in voyage of a cup of tea when Fred apparates in. You’re dozing, halfway between sleep and consciousness, lulled further into the pillows by Molly’s thumb stroking circles into the back of your hand.

The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor does little to soothe the frantic redhead, and his warbling voice has your heart ticking up, head tilting towards the sound. Molly’s free hand moves up to your jaw, pinching the skin affectionately as you grumble and stretch.

You catch snippets of the conversation, half-sentences that mash and jumble together in your sleep addled mind; the only thing that rouses you is the utter panic in Fred’s voice.

“I can’t- I can’t lose her, mum. She can’t leave me.”

“She’s not going anywhere, darling. She’ll be okay.”

Peeling your eyes open takes more effort than you’d care to admit. Your brain is all fogged up like a car windshield on an icy morning, but you instinctually reach for Fred anyway.

“Why would I be leaving you?” you murmur, brow pinching.

He takes your hand eagerly when you offer it, dropping into a crouch by your side. You stroke his cheek; if he’s surprised, he hides it very well. You’ve never been so outright with your affections.

“You’re not, angel,” he coos his agreement. You seem pleased even when your stomach throbs and you turn onto your back in an effort to evade the sting.

You frown and cock your head, eyes soft. “Would you like to know a secret?”

Fred snorts. Pain medicine makes you very polite. “Of course I would.”

“I love you very, very much, Freddie,” you whisper, curling closer to him. “And I don’t want to leave you.”

“I love you very, very much too, lovely girl,” he says. Your eyes clear, baring something raw and all too real beneath your glassy expression. Fred blinks and it’s gone, replaced by the same vacancy you’ve had since you’ve woken up. You dissolve into giggles.

“I’m appendix-less, Freddie.”

The joke is so silly Fred can’t help but tuck you up small underneath him for a squeezing cuddle. His arms ebb and drag over your arms, chest rumbling lowly against your smushed cheek.

“You are indeed, angel.”

“Do you think I can come home soon?” you sigh, squeezing at his ribs until he bends lower, covering more of your body with his own. “I don’t really like it here. And I miss you and Georgie. And I miss your mum.”

“I’m right here, dearie,” Molly chuckles. Your eyes bulge comically and you squeal, excited all over again.

“Thank Godric! I was going to come looking for you, otherwise, Mrs Weasley.”

You haven’t called her that in years. Fred kisses the top of your head. Just as he thought, you’re extra polite today.

“Georgie’s outside if you’d like to talk to him,” Fred says. “I just wanted you to myself first.”

You snort, smacking a wet kiss to his jaw. “You can have me to yourself whenever you want. Just ‘cos I love you.”

Fred feels his mother’s eyes pointedly burning a hole through his skull. Yeah, he thinks, I bloody know.

He needs to make a move, he knows that. It’s just so hard when you’re gazing up at him, all soft and sweet like he’s the only person in the whole world. Loving you is easy. It’s the threat of losing you that threatens to tilt his entire world on its axis.

“George’s here?” you mumble, eyes heavy. You’re fading, though still chipper as ever asking after your second bestest friend.

“Yeah, he is, angel,” Fred coos. “Why don’t you lay down and I’ll go and get him, yeah?”

You whine. “Don’t go far please.”

“I won’t, lovie.”

George tumbles to your side, eyes wrinkled with a grin as you yawn and open your arms for a cwtch.

“Hello, Georgie!”

“Hey, sunshine.” He mirrors your enthusiasm beat for beat. “How are you feeling?”

Your breath stutters in a funny sort of way before you sink into the pillows with a huff. Your eyes droop.

“I’d like to go home now, Georgie. Will you help me escape?”

“How could I say no to that?”

Fred clicks his tongue, faux seriousness clinging to every word. “Now, now. You need to stay a bit longer. They’ll discharge you at the end of the day.”

“Fred!” you and George groan synonymously.

He only rolls his eyes, sandwiching you snugly between the pair of lanky boys. “You love me, remember?”

“Very, very much, yes.”

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thefiery-phoenix · 1 year ago

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BOUND FOREVER(YANDERE TOM RIDDLE X READER)

It was your first year at Hogwarts and you were quite excited to learn everything there was about magic and make friends. You were on the Hogwarts Express and you tried to find an empty compartment when you finally stumbled upon a compartment with a guy who looked a few years older than you and had raven black curls on his pale skin as he lazily flipped through the pages of one of his books in his hands. You opened the door and you entered the compartment as you asked him whether you could sit inside with him. His eyes met yours and his gaze surveyed your features with a calculating sharp look. He had a look of slight annoyance in his eyes but beckoned for you to sit without saying a word. You smiled and thanked him and sat opposite towards him and when you pulled your 'A History of Hogwarts' book out, his lips curved into a cheshire like grin. "I'm guessing you're a first year?" he asked you. "Well yes, I'm reading more about Hogwarts so I can learn more about it and it's actually quite fun'' you said with a smile. For a while only the sound of the train on the tracks was heard along with the chatter of the other students from the other compartments and there was a peaceful silence between the two of you

"I didn't get your name'' you said and looked at the guy in front of you. "Tom Marvolo Riddle, 3rd year'' he replied with a smirk as you shook his hand and introduced yourself. He liked how soft your hand felt in his, you looked so...innocent and docile and so gullible with that silly yet slightly endearing grin etched across your face. He couldn't wait to have more of you. The two of you were talking with each other when the compartment door slid open as a few Ravenclaw students entered and they stared at you. "You're new eh? Well if you ever need anything lemme know, I'll be more than willing to be your...guide'' said one of them as he licked his lips and his eyes travelled down your body hungrily which you were unaware of. It didn't go unnoticed by Tom though as he had a fake smile plastered across his face and asked him to step out of the compartment for a few moments with him. As the both of them stepped out, he immediately grabbed him by the tie and glared at him. "If I ever see your filthy gaze on Y/N again, by Merlin I will torture you till you fall at my feet and BEG me for death as I gouge your bloody eyes out...now get lost'' he snarled as the guy in front of him whimpered in fright. "Bloody pathetic...I'll kill you in your sleep at some point'' said Tom and smirked at the guy while the guy hobbled away in fright. Tom wasn't going to let anyone take you from him, you were his little prey, a little lamb meant to be devoured by him

He returned back to the compartment and you kept talking to him while he listened and absorbed every word you said. The train finally reached the station as you and the other First Year students headed into the Great Hall ready to be sorted. You spotted Tom sitting with the rest of his other friends at the Slytherin table and you could feel his eyes on you. You were nervous and started fidgeting with the hem of your robes, anxiously waiting for your name to be called to be sorted as Tom took pleasure in watching you squirm from afar. He thought you looked rather amusing and slightly endearing, his desire to make you squirm for him even more grew as he kept watching you. Your name was finally called upon and you sat down on the stool as the hat was placed on your head and after a few moments of deliberation from the hat, you got sorted into the Hufflepuff house as you smiled and joined your house. Tom's fists clenched as his knuckles as he watched you join those insignificant pests when you were supposed to get sorted into Slytherin so you could be by his side

'No matter...they're still mine' thought Tom to himself as he watched you laugh and giggle with the other people around you. He felt himself growing irritated at himself, he was angry at himself for allowing his mind to be plagued with thoughts of you, he hated the way you laughed with other people, he felt his anger and rage boiling inside him. After the dinner was over, you met with Tom and when you told him that even though the two of you were in different houses, you still wanted to be friends with him as his lips curved into a smirk. How naive and adorable you were, while the others shivered in their shoes since he instilled fear into them, there was you who actually wanted to be close to him. You failed to realize he was a wolf in sheep's clothing with a mask, hiding his unnatural feelings of obsession for you with his dark twisted desires

He was calculating when he started isolating you from the others. He threatened, blackmailed and tortured people whoever dared to come too close to you. Every time you'd meet him in the Room of Requirement wondering why people didn't want to be close to you and how you'd start sniffing pathetically, he'd coo at you in a patronizing condescending manner secretly glad that you're leaning on him and relying on him for support. He loved the way your tears fell down your cheeks, those beautiful lashes of yours tinged with your tears as your eyes are bleary and puffy, it gave him sadistic pleasure to see you cry. The other day someone invited you to a day out with them at Hogsmeade and you told Tom about it as his eyes narrowed at you and curtly told you he had a problem he had to take care of. He tracked down the git who tried to take you from him and immediately used the Avada Kedavra on him as a beam of green light erupted from his wand. He stared down at the lifeless body in front of him with contempt as he put his wand back into his robes and went back to join you

By the time you realized Tom was the one behind all those deaths and all those people getting hurt, it was too late. He'd spun a web of lies, trapping you like a helpless little butterfly in his web of deceit and manipulation. You tried to tell professor Dumbledore about his behavior after the Transfiguration class. "Professor...Professor, please, I need to have a word with you'' you pleaded as you tried to catch up with him while you walked on the steps. Someone ended up tipping Tom off that you were about to talk to professor Dumbledore as he rushed to find you. "Y/N!" yelled Tom as he strode over to you, his every step filling you with dread. "I apologize for my sudden intrusion professor, Y/N here had a question about today's lesson...I assure you I shall clear Y/N's questions'' said Tom with his usual charming smile that could fool anyone but not you since you've finally seen him for who he actually was

Professor Dumbledore bade you both goodnight and left as you wanted to cry out for him to look back and save you from the clutches of his toxic manipulative grasp but all you could do was just keep your mouth shut when Tom sent a withering glowering glare towards you. He dragged you by your wrist into a nearby classroom and pinned you against the wall. "LET ME GO! WHAT ARE YOU-" you screamed as his hand covered your mouth, muffling your cries and screams for help as tears pricked your eyes. "There are consequences when you go behind my back...you are MINE, you're MY property and I have no qualms of getting more blood on my hands to make you stay with me...I love you after all'' he whispered as he had his signature wolf like grin on his face. You tried to squirm in his grasp and he chuckled as he felt your hands weakly pushing against him, how cute, you really thought you could fight back against him. "Be a good little pet for me and stop your whining unless you don't want your family and friends to see the light of day again...'' he whispered as he leaned close to you and enjoyed the way you kept whimpering and sobbing in his arms. His thumb gently caressed your cheek as his dark obsession for you was fueled even more when he saw how soft and pliant and vulnerable you were before him. A few seconds later you started losing consciousness and he held you by the waist. You were now his, bound forever to him and he'd ensure no one would ever be able to save you from him...

#yandere tom riddle #yandere tom marvolo riddle #yandere tom marvolo riddle x reader #yandere tom riddle scenarios #yandere tom riddle oneshots #yandere tom riddle headcanons #yandere tom riddle imagines #yandere tom marvolo riddle oneshots #dark tom riddle #dark tom riddle x reader #dark tom riddle oneshots #dark tom riddle headcanons #yandere harry potter #yandere harry potter x reader #yandere harry potter characters #yandere harry potter characters x reader #yandere harry potter headcanons #yandere harry potter scenarios #yandere harry potter imagines

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sunburnhurts · 10 months ago

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Odd Behavior || Cedric Diggory x fem!Reader

Summary: Cedric Diggory is usually good with flirting with girls, but when it comes to Y/n, he's not very confident like usual. Cedric and Y/n are at the same party, but he's too nervous to do anything about approaching Y/n.

Words: 966

All My Stories

Cedric stands in the Hufflepuff Common room, surrounded by his friends. His friends are all laughing at something, but Cedric wasn't listening to anything his friends were saying. His focus was on a friend group that was standing across the room. The friend group included Y/n and her other friends. Y/n wasn't a Hufflepuff, but was still invited to the Hufflepuff party. The party was something random some people pulled together, it was supposed to be only Hufflepuffs, but people invited their friends from other houses.

One of Cedric's friends notice Cedric wasn't paying attention, so he nudged Cedric's arm to get his attention. Cedric turned his head to his friend, but kept his eyes on the girl he was staring at. "Hm?" Cedric hummed.

"Yo, what are you looking at?" His friend asked, trying to follow his gaze.

"Oh- nothing." Cedric says, looking away from Y/n and putting his eyes on his friend.

"No, not nothing, is it that group of girls back there?" His friend asks, trying to spot what girl Cedric was looking at.

"Uh, yeah." Cedric says as he looks back at Y/n. He sees Y/n's friend group burst out in laughter, he sees Y/n's beautiful smile. The corner of his lip slightly lift up seeing her happy.

"Is it that Gryffindor girl? Shoot whats her name.." Cedric's friend says, trying to remember her name.

"Y/n." Cedric responds.

"Ah, right, Y/n. Go talk to her, man."

Cedric looks at his friend with a confused look. He shakes his head at his friend and says, "No way."

"Why not? You've talked to girls before!" Cedric's friend says, trying to be loud enough over the loud Common Room.

"Yeah but-" Cedric pauses and looks over to Y/n. "not like Y/n."

"What are you saying, man? Go talk to her! It wouldn't hurt!" Cedric's friend says, looking over to the group of girls. "I didn't think I would live to see the day Cedric Diggory is scared to talk to a girl!" His friend laughs.

"I'm not scared! I'm just, I don't know." Cedric replies, looking over to his friend.

"What is so different about her and all the other girls you've talked to?"

"She like, intimidating but in a good way, you know?" Cedric embarrassingly admits.

"Man, how long have you been scared to talk to this girl?"

"Since like, 3rd year?"

"Cedric! You need to talk to her!" Cedric's friend says as the 2 boys look back over to Y/n's friend group. One of Y/n's friends look over to the 2 boys, seeing they are looking at Y/n, so she nudges her.

She whispers in Y/n's ear something, making Y/n turn her attention to the two boys staring. Cedric's friend looks back at Cedric as Cedric continues to look at the girl. Y/n furrows her eyebrows at Cedric, tilting her head slightly in confusion with a slight smirk. Cedric's face turns slightly red, he didn't know what to do. He smiles at the girl and raises his eyebrows at her.

Y/n smiles at the boy, then turns her attention back to her friends. Cedric's friend slaps Cedric's arm, making Cedric look back over at him. "Now you have to talk to her, man."

Cedric couldn't build up the courage to talk to her, he wasn't sure why. His friend was right, he usually was good with talking to girls. It's like all his experience of talking to girls has been thrown out the window and it's a fresh start now. It's true, he had his eye on Y/n since 3rd year, they've had classes together, but they've never interacted before.

"I feel like I just blew my shot." Cedric admits, embarrassed.

"No way! That was just the start, look her friends are telling her to go talk to you!" Cedric's friend says, looking at the group of girls once again. It was true, Y/n's friends were hyping Y/n up to talk to the boy, saying how it's obvious Cedric is interested in her.

"He's literally looking at you right now again!" One of Y/n's friends shout a little too loud. Cedric and his friend heard this and looked at each other and laughed.

"See?" Cedric's friend says proudly.

"Yeah yeah, I think I'm gonna go to bed or something, I need good sleep for the Quidditch game tomorrow." Cedric says as he starts walking over to the dorm area.

Once Y/n decides to talk to Cedric, she turns away from her friends and starts walking over to where Cedric and his friend were. When she sees Cedric's friend standing alone, she gives him a confused look. Cedric's friend laughs and point to Cedric, who is walking away. She nods her head and smiles at the friend, silently thanking him.

Y/n waits to call out to Cedric once they are alone. When they are in an empty hallway, Y/n says, "You were really going to leave without talking to me?"

Cedric hears Y/n's voice, making his heart flutter. He turns around and smiles at the girl, "My mistake."

"Correct." Y/n says as she stops walking in front of the boy. "You scared of me?" Y/n laughs and waits for the boys answer.

"Would it be bad if I said a little?" Cedric says with a smirk and raised eyebrows.

"I'm not scary, Diggory!" Y/n exclaims, nudging his arm with her fist. "Maybe you're just a scardy cat?"

"Could be," Cedric shrugs.

"Join me in the common room?" Y/n asks, holding her hand out for the boy. Cedric smiles at the girls boldness, happily accepting her hand and walking into the Common Room hand in hand.

THE END

A/n: Hey guys! I hope you liked this! I wanted to write something short and cute, so here it is! Requests are open!

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alwayshinny · 2 months ago

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The Queen Ginevra Weasley - 👑

I noticed a lot of Ginny hate lately on my For You page, so here's a Ginny Weasley appreciation post. To the hottest girl with the most fierce and caring personality. My girl wouldn't give a fuck what the haters have to say about her or her and Harry's relationship ✌🏼

#girl you dropped this 👑#fuck she's hot and she knows it #i imagine her smirking when she hears people talking shit because she knows they're full of shit and insecure af #harry and ginny would choose each other in every universe #the haters can't handle her perfection #i love that she's known for her bat bogey hexes #ginny weasley appreciation post #stop hating on strong female characters #harry's girl #ginevra weasley #ginny weasley #harry potter #hinny #harry potter ai #ai generated

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sp7-mr · 8 months ago

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𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑺 𝑺𝑪𝑬𝑵𝑬 😩

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lqveharrington · 7 months ago

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Everything & Nothing | D.M.

summary: The Universe might hate you and Draco with how many times you’ve run into each other in a span of your mutual breakup.

pairing: ex!draco malfoy x ex!fem!reader

includes: angst, slight fluff

a/n: uhhh, i don’t know why i wrote this but enjoy!

Fate seemed to have a cruel sense of humor; bringing you both into each other’s lives whenever possible. Whether it was a random run-in at an obscure café or an unexpected encounter during a night out with your quite separate group of friends, you kept finding yourselves crossing paths in the most unlikely places which was weird because you both were studying under the same wizarding university, you never ran into one another there.

Each accidental meeting sparked whirlwinds of emotions between the both of you — anger, hurt, nostalgia, and a flicker of something you both thought you had lost long ago.

Harry and Ron didn’t care, in fact, they were delighted you and Draco Malfoy broke it off when you graduated Hogwarts. Hermione couldn’t care less about the boy, but she knew you two were completely and irrevocably in love.

“So, how did last night go with… Remind me, what was the name of that prick?” Ron tapped his chin as you stared at him with the thought of casting a horrifying spell on him.

Hermione hesitated, reached a hand out to stop him before you could pull your wand out. “Ron—“

“Was it not Malfoy? I swear he looked exactly—“

You flicked your wand at him, murmuring only one word that wouldn’t cause him too much pain. “Rictumsempra.”

Ron burst out laughing, causing the muggles walking around you to stare at him incredulously. Harry laughed at him as you wore a proud look on your face, making Hermione sigh and reverse the spell. Well, after a few more seconds of torturous tickling.

“If this is how you all will behave this evening, I will send you all home, do you understand?” Hermione directed her attention to the three standing in front of her, most of her irritation directed toward her other half.

She received half-hearted words of understanding before her face completely softened to look over at you, watching your eyes become distant again. She sighed and separated you from the boys, pulling you in for a hug.

“Have you talked to him recently?” Hermione rubbed your arms softly, words quiet as you sniffled. “What’s wrong?” She was about to ask again, believing you didn’t hear her when you responded with a voice barely above a whisper.

“Is it bad that I miss him?” You wipe a stray tear quickly, wishing nothing but to cover up your embarrassment. “Merlin’s beard, I’m crying in a bookstore about a mutual break up.”

Hermione continued to soothe you as muggles continued to look at them with confusion. This happened at least once a month. You would try and move on from him, but it all came rushing back to you like it was just yesterday.

You sigh and rub your eyes with the heel of your palm, “Give me a second.”

“Take all the time you need, we just you got here so you’ll… be fine.” Hermione locked eyes with someone behind you, her eyes lighting up in surprise. “I’ll be back, I need to make sure Ron and Harry haven’t spend all their money on candies.”

You chuckle and wave her off before shifting your gaze to the bookshelves surrounding you. Did you need a new book? No. Do you want to get a new book even thought you have piles of them in your flat? Yes.

As you scanned the different books adorning the shelves, you found one that caught your eye, one that you’ve been wanting for months. Everywhere else was sold out, but apparently not this random bookstore Hermione brought you to.

Standing on your tippy toes, your fingers barely grazed the cloth material the book was bonded by. Just as you were about to clasp your hand around it, a figure behind you plucked it from the shelf, making you turn to glare at the person.

“Hey, I was—“ You cut yourself off as you faced the familiar man. Even after all these months, he still had the same face you fell in love with years ago, but of course he was maturing with his looks. You mumble out his name, making it sound more like a question than an observation. “Draco.”

He tensed at his name falling from your lips, blue eyes meeting yours. Every time he ran into you, neither of you would acknowledge the other, but this was completely different. He stared at you, hoping and praying that this wasn’t a dream. As he realized his face was in fact getting hotter by the second, he knew this wasn’t a figment of his imagination.

“Hi.” Draco breathed out, his resolve bending to your every will. He watched as you directed your attention to his hands, your hands spinning a ring he thought you threw out long ago. He blinked before clearing his throat and handing you the book, scratching the back of his neck. “Sorry, I was trying to be helpful.”

“It’s fine.” You mutter quietly, your fingers brushing against his, sending sparks down your body.

The room felt hot and heavy and you didn’t know what to do but stand there and bask in the awkwardness that came upon the both of you. You felt for the pages in the book before Draco pressed closer to you, apologies spilling out of his mouth the closer he got as an old woman struggled to get past behind him.

As she finally slipped through, Draco immediately removed himself from you; and from habit, tucked a loose piece of your hair behind your ear before realizing his mistake.

“I’m sorry— I didn’t mean to—“

You stop his rambling before he could go on for any longer, “It’s alright, Draco. No… No harm done at all.” You clasped your hand around the book, nails anxiously tapping against its hard cover. “Uh… It was nice to see you…”

Draco watched as you turned to leave before reached out for your shoulder, making you turn back to face him with a surprised look.

“Wait.”

You looked at the hand on your shoulder and followed his arm up to his face, feeling your own face heat up as his turned equally as red. He quickly removed his hand and tucked them into his pockets — you knew that meant he was nervous. And so were you.

“Can we talk?” He asked softly, slightly bouncing on the balls of his feet. You watch him with slight amusement before nodding, lips curling up to an even bigger smile when you noticed his eyes light up at your agreement. You allowed him to lead the way before looking down at the book.

As you watch him head for the door, you stop him briefly. “Give me a second, I have to pay for the book still.” Before you could even hear how much your total was from the bored cashier, Draco shoved his muggle money to the cashier in hopes to make the process faster.

You rolled your eyes with a small smile on your face, taking the paper bag from the counter and making your way to the front of the bookstore to wait for him. You shut your eyes briefly as the small snippets of conversations floated around the store, the random tales of their lives making small movies in your mind until a hand softly squeezed your shoulder.

“Mm, you done?” You murmur, eyes fluttering up to see a content Draco. Tilting your head over to the cashier, you saw her making goo-goo eyes toward him, specifically a place no one decent should be looking at in public. “You don’t mind if we could talk down by the cafe, yeah?”

“Lead the way.” He gestured the front of the door with his chin, eyes watching your calm facade turn into such a fast filled emotion of annoyance and jealousy.

Instead of the bookstore with an over-eager cashier who was ready to get into Draco’s pants, you lead him to a quiet cafe with no one but two old men playing chess at a round table. The smell of freshly baked pastries filled your senses, making you hum in content and sit at your own round table, Draco sitting right across from you.

After a few silent moments, you sighed and stopped spinning your ring, looking up at the blonde in front of you.

“What did you want to talk about?”

Draco gave you a tight-lipped smile, fingers wringing with each other. “Honestly? Everything. I want to talk about our lives — more specifically yours — and how you’ve been.”

You blinked at him. You didn’t know he was still interested in your life, but you did want to know if he ever…

“We don’t have to, but I would like that very much.” He spoke quietly when he caught your dazed look.

Nodding, you begin spinning your ring again. “What do you want to know?”

He smiled softly and began the mirage of questions, each one you happily answered. It was like no time had passed since Hogwarts. It was like nothing ever happened.

Like always, Draco watched you animatedly talk about a new book series you started, your hands flailing around in excitement. His smile never left, even when you would bounce your knee up and down or when you would snap your fingers when you remembered what you were going to say.

In his mind, you were everything he ever wanted. It was heartbreaking to see your face fall when he brought up a topic that you both wanted to know but didn’t want to say.

“I know you don’t want to hear it, especially coming from me, but you haven’t… Have you been going on dates with others or, you know, have a boyfriend?” Draco murmured.

It was almost laughable how the prince of Slytherin fumbled his words and looked almost embarrassed to ask questions such as these.

You pursed your lips and looked over at the bustling street full of muggles. Your voice was quiet when you spoke that Draco could barely hear it over the sound of the people.

“I have, but I didn’t uhm… I didn’t enjoy any of them.”

“Why not?”

The music of a muggle artist you’ve come to love started playing, making you sigh in slight annoyance. Not that you disliked the song, but because of how similar the song was to your current life.

“They didn’t meet my standards.” You meet his eyes with a distant look, his own eyes shining with interest. “It seemed like none of them could because every time I went on one — which wasn’t many — something always reels me back.”

He hummed, glancing down at your ring with slight curiosity. “And what are those standards?”

You bite your inner cheek as you look off to the side where a happy couple was walking around a fountain and pointing at the water spouts.

“I’m not sure… Just someone who I know would understand me. Someone who will willingly indulge in my interests without being rude or judgmental.” You tucked your hand to adjusted your wand poking into your side. “And preferably someone who’s already a wizard or witch. I don’t want to explain the whole thing to a muggle.”

Draco raised his eyes brows in surprise before a small smirk decorated his lips. You were still a Slytherin through and through. “Sounds like fun.”

You scoffed, “Okay, your turn. How has the dating pool been for you?”

“Actually I haven’t gone on any.” He sat back and crossed his arms across his chest, watching you flush red in embarrassment. “What’s with the face, princess?”

Stupid princess of Slytherin. You thought.

“I just thought you would’ve… Never mind.” You spin the ring again. Just before you could speak once more, Draco cut you off, surprise etching your face at the question.

“Why do you still wear that ring? I thought you would have burned it the second you could.” He tilted his head as your cheeks burned much hotter. “Or better yet, have thrown it in a rubbish heap.”

You glanced down at the Malfoy Signet adorning your ring finger. It wasn’t as big and bulky as Draco’s, but rather dainty with an emerald placed in its center. He said it was his mother’s and that she wished you would have it instead of her.

“It’s not mine to get rid of.” You slip the ring off and gently cradle it in your palm, the writing written on the inside practically a line you could recite any time if asked. “Besides, it’s too gorgeous for me to get rid of it.”

He hummed and plucked the ring from your palm, noticing your eyes following the movement carefully. “I gave it to you, so the true question is if it truly is yours or not.”

The clattering of plates and chatters from customers around you made you finally ask something that’s been itching to get out the second you agreed to talk to him.

“Why did you want to talk? And don’t say because you want to know everything that happened. And how come you never dated again? Was I that bad of a—“

Your eyes widened in surprise before pulling away, fingers coming up to touch your lips.

“I wanted to talk to you,” Draco started as he held the ring tightly in his fist, looking straight into your eyes. “Because I missed talking to you. I missed being around you without the tension between us. And I never dated anyone else because of you. You weren’t bad, you were… You were everything to me that I couldn’t replace. I couldn’t go on in life without you because I wouldn’t have anything. I would have nothing.”

Silence filled the space between the both of you as your heart began to pace faster and faster, fingers fiddling with one another.

“I swear, the universe either loves or hates us because I see you all the time and I couldn’t come up to you without you thinking it was weird.” Draco sighed and ran his slender fingers through his hair. “I know the break up was mutual for both our benefits, but I can’t help think about how our life’s could’ve been.”

You tentatively reach over his clenched hand and gently pry it open before lacing your hand with his, rubbing the soft of his hand to calm him down.

“I honestly am at a loss of words…” You began your own spiel but only stared at your joined hands. “I know that when we broke up it was going to be hard to move on. I… I really tried to but no one could ever top whatever we had.” You look up to his beautiful blue eyes that you swore could be mistaken for gray. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that… I think we should definitely try again. It’s not like we broke up to something horrible, but I guess we had different pathways for our futures.”

Draco took the ring from his palm and held it in front of you, murmuring words of distaste for a second. “Salazar Slytherin, I’m gonna sound like a fucking geek.”

You smile softly. You missed him so much. Even his stupid remarks.

“Do you promise we’ll try? Because even my worst nightmares couldn’t picture a life without you.” Draco matched your ever growing smile. “Because I have always loved you.”

Scrunching your nose, you leaned over the round table and kissed his lips softly before murmuring your own response. “That was really sentimental of you, you geek.”

He slipped the ring back on your ring finger before capturing your lips again, feeling you smile into it. “Well, I’m your geek, my love.”

read more about draco malfoy here!!

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girllblogging777 · 7 months ago

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𝐹𝑅𝐼𝐺𝐻𝑇 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐹𝐿𝐼𝑅𝑇𝐴𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁

↳ mattheo riddle x fem!reader (best friends, flirting)

↳ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 : 1.4k

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 : exploring a haunted house isn’t very pleasant… except when your flirty best friend mattheo is with you.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

you never should’ve let the boys convince you to sneak out after curfew.

the slytherin common room had been buzzing with energy earlier, filled with laughter and stories about the supposedly haunted house at the border of the forbidden forest. you’d been reading your book, half listening to what your friends were saying as they argued about whether or not they believed in these rumours, or if it was just another one of the castle’s unsolved mysteries.

“it’s not even that far,” theo had said casually, grinning. “we’ll be back before anyone notices.” and of course, you didn’t wanna be the only one to back out. not when you were the only girl in the group, always trying to prove yourself to them. not when you wanted to keep that confident and fierce image you had. and especially not when mattheo riddle was watching you with that usual smirk of his, his dark eyes practically daring you to say no.

✩✩✩✩

so here you were tonight, standing outside some old crumbling building that once had been called a house. the full moon hung high in the sky, casting eerie shadows around you and the boys. the air was colder here too, sending shivers down your back and under the knitted sweater you were wearing. but, of course, you weren’t gonna let anyone know that.

enzo and blaise were already thrilled when they pushed open the door, making plans and chatting excitedly about the little nighttime adventure you were having. draco and theo strode confidently behind them, following them inside and leaving you standing next to mattheo, who was staring at you with crossed arms, looking calmer than you’d even seen him.

“scared yet ?” he asked, his voice low and teasing. you rolled your eyes and scoffed, pretending you didn’t notice the way your heart rate sped up - from the alluring boy or the frightening house next to you, that you didn’t know. “please. this place is barely standing. the only thing i’m worried about is the roof caving in.”

he chuckled at your answer and leaned closer “don’t worry. if it does, i’ll protect you.”

your stomach flipped, and this time you knew it had nothing to do with whatever ghosts were inside that house. the brunette boy was the only human being who had such an effect on you, and you hated it. “ghosts be damned,” you muttered, shaking your head as you followed the others inside. “i don’t need your protection.”

“that we’ll see, love” mattheo said behind you, barely above a whisper.

inside, the house was somehow creepier than you’d imagined. there was dust everywhere, and when the floor creaked beneath your steps, you understood why all these rumours had been invented in the first place. despite the darkness, you could see the faded paintings on the wall, following you as you walked down the narrow hallway. at some point you could’ve sworn one of the figures on the portraits moved, but when you turned to look at it, nothing.

a couple of feet away, blaise was laughing at something draco had said, but you were too busy scanning the dark corners of the house to listen to their conversation. theo was already taking about splitting up, which of course, only managed to make the anxiety tighten in your chest.

“everyone, make groups !” the boys declared, clearly excited and proud of their idea. “makes it more fun”

before you could protest, mattheo was at your side again. you’d been hyper aware of his presence behind you for the past couple of minutes, and now there he was, grinning down at you as your shoulders brushed. “well, looks like we’re partners, then.” you shot him a look. “convenient.”

“hey, you’ll thank me later,” he said with a wink, and it took everything in you not to make another sarcastic remark. still, you couldn’t help but feel a little relieved now, knowing you wouldn’t walk through this scary place alone.

the two of you silently ventured down another hallway, away from where the others were heading. the floorboards creaked with every step you took, the shadows of your tall figures stretching out against the wall as you moved deeper into the house. it was unnervingly quiet, but the sound of mattheo’s steady breaths and confident footsteps reassured you a little.

the brown eyed boy glanced at you, his pupils gleaming with amusement. “you’re quiet, getting nervous ?” you muttered a barely audible “i’m fine” though you couldn’t ignore the quickening of your pulse. you hated haunted places, or even darkness in general, but you’d rather get crucio-ed than admit that to him.

he moved closer, his warm breath hitting your neck, and you found yourself unconsciously leaning towards him when he spoke, “you can hold my hand if you get scared.” you glared at him, grateful the obscurity of the scene hid the blush on your cheek, “in your dreams.”

he laughed softly but he didn’t push it, still, his presence was oddly comforting. it made you feel a little less like something was about to jump out from the shadows, and a little more like you wanted him even closer.

somehow, the air in the house seemed to grow colder the further you walked. every once in a while, you’d hear something : a creak, a whisper, maybe just the wind, but it sets your nerves on edge.

suddenly, a loud bang echoed from one of the rooms down the hall and you jumped, grabbing mattheo’s arm without even thinking. your heart raced, and you cursed under your breath when you realised what had just happened.

“told you” he said, a grin slowly spreading across his face as he looked down at where your hand gripped his hand. you scowled, quickly letting go. “that was just instinct.” still smiling, he nodded “sure, sure…” but then his gaze softened, and his voice dropped. “don’t worry, i’ve got you.”

something in his tone made your breath catch, and for a second, you forgot where you were. the haunted house, the cold, the creepy portraits, all of it faded as you stared up at him, trying to figure out if he was being serious or if this was more of his usual flirting.

before you could say anything, another loud sound echoed from upstairs. this time, it wasn’t just a bang. it was footsteps. slow, deliberate footsteps moving across the ceiling. you froze, every muscle in your body tensing as you looked up. riddle stepped in front of you, his usual playful expression gone and replaced by something more serious.

“stay close,” he whispered and you nodded as you followed him up the creaky stairs , ignoring the tightening in your throat. each step felt heavier than the previous one and the closer you got to the top floor, the louder the sound became. you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone, or something, was watching you.

mattheo’s hand brushed against yours again, and this time you didn’t pull away. you were too focused on the shadows that seemed to move on their own, on the way the cold seemed to press in on you from all sides.

“do you trust me ?” he asked quietly. you looked up at him, surprised by the seriousness in his voice. he’d always been flirty and playful when it came to you, blurring the lines between friendship and more. however, tonight, things felt different. despite everything, you nodded “yeah…”

he squeezed your hand lightly, his hand never leaving yours. “good, because i’m not letting anything happen to you.”

“oi !” theo’s voice echoed through the hall, startling the both of you and shattering the blissful bubble you were in. you quickly dropped mattheo’s hand and stepped back, but it was too late.

theo was grinning, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed, looking far too amused for someone in a haunted house, and for your liking. “well, well, well… look at you two getting all cozy up here.” your face heated up immediately, but mattheo just smirked, clearly unfazed. “jealous ?” theo proceeded to snort, “of you ? never.”

he glanced between the two of you, and the teasing look in his eyes made you wanna disappear. “we’re heading back, this place is more boring than we thought it would be. meet us downstairs and don’t get lost… or, you know, distracted.”

with that, he turned around and disappeared back down the dusty stairs, leaving you and mattheo standing there in awkward silence. you could feel your chest thumping as you tried to figure out what to say, looking at the old wallpaper that was falling apart instead of meeting his gaze.

“see ?” he whispered, leaning down just enough for you to hear. “told you i’d protect you. even from theo’s terrible sense of humour.” you groaned and pushed him slightly, the banter between you settling back down, “shut up !”

you may have hated haunted houses, but the truth was, you kind of liked the way his hand felt in yours.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

a/n : hey ! this is me making my weekly appearance on this app, cause i just HAD to write about this request

please comment and reblog ! tag list (comment if you wanna be added) @tateshifts @redeemingvillains @helendeath @jolly4holly @larmesdevanille @dexoq @reys-letters @shiftingwithmars @shiftingwithleah @fbvreadingblog @moonlightreader649 @bellatrix-lestrange5 @sp7-mr @sunkissedscribbles @chelawrites @myunperfektstorys @iris-qt @yikesitslush @clar2aa @deadsnakey @deadghosy @slut-for-fictional-men @romantasyreader28 @witchsrecs

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kisses-for-you · 5 months ago

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explosion - f. weasley

fred weasley x fem!reader

summary: during the battle of hogwarts, you get injured and fred rushes to help. w/c: 1.8k

The battle raged like a storm around you, shaking the ancient stones of the castle to their core. Spells streaked through the air in every color imaginable, illuminating the darkened halls as you, Fred, George, and Percy fought side by side to hold one of the castle's passageways.

Fred stood close to you, his fiery hair glinting in the flickering light of the spells which were whizzing through the air in every direction. He was sweating and breathing hard, but his bravery hadn't faltered.

"Fancy a bit of adventure, love?" he teased, sending a Death Eater crashing into the far wall with a well-placed spell.

"Adventure? More like absolute chaos," you retorted, firing another spell that shattered a chunk of the ceiling, blocking another Death Eater's path. "You Weasleys have the strangest idea of a good time!"

"That's why you love me," Fred shot back, deflecting a Killing Curse with a quick shield charm.

Before you could reply, George chimed in. "Oi, save the flirting for later! Some of us are trying to survive over here!"

Percy, ever the voice of reason - or annoyance, depending on the moment - scowled as he launched another Expelliarmus. "Focus, all of you! We need to hold this position at all costs!"

The Death Eaters were relentless, forcing you all to retreat step by step. But you held your ground, firing spell after spell alongside the brothers. It felt like you were making progress - until the explosion.

The blast came out of nowhere, deafening and blinding. One moment you were standing shoulder to shoulder with Fred; the next, you were hurled backward by the force of the explosion. You hit the ground hard and the world went dark for a moment.

"Y/N!" Fred's voice pierced the haze, raw and panicked. He stumbled through the rubble, the light from his wand flickering wildly as he searched for you.

His heart stopped when he found you crumpled on the floor, your body motionless. Blood stained the front of your robes, and your wand lay just out of reach. For a moment, the chaos around him ceased to exist.

"Y/N!" he dropped to his knees beside you, shaking your shoulder gently. "No. No, no, no." His hands hovered over you, too afraid to touch you in case you were truly gone.

Tears blurred his vision as he cupped your face in his trembling hands. "Come on, love. Don't do this to me. Please, wake up." His voice cracked, and a sob tore from his throat.

George's voice called out from somewhere behind him. "Fred! What are you-" He froze when he saw you. "Bloody hell. Is she..?"

"She's not!" Fred barked, his voice filled with equal parts fury and despair. "She's not." He pressed his forehead to yours, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "You're stronger than this. You don't get to leave me. You hear me?"

Just as Fred was about to lose all hope, you stirred. When you came to, your ears were ringing, and dust filled the air. Your vision spun as the taste of copper filled your mouth. A weak groan escaped your lips, and your eyes fluttered open. "Fred...?" Your voice was barely audible, but it was enough.

Fred let out a choked laugh, tears streaming down his face as he cradled you close, careful of the wound that appeared to be on your side. "You're alive. Merlin, you're alive." He pressed a desperate kiss to your forehead, his hands moving to check your wound.

"Don't... cry," you whispered, managing a faint smile despite the pain.

"Too late for that, love," Fred replied, his voice still shaking. "I thought I'd lost you. You scared me half to death, you know that?"

You were about to respond but another volley of spells exploded nearby, forcing Fred to shield your body with his own. "George! Percy!" he yelled over his shoulder. "I need cover!"

George was already there but Percy wasn't so he fought his way toward you, spells flying in all directions. George crouched beside Fred, his expression grim as he took in your condition.

"We need to get her out of here," George said firmly. "She's losing too much blood."

"I know that!" Fred snapped, his voice raw. "But if we leave this passageway undefended-"

"We'll handle it," Percy interrupted, his tone unusually gentle. "Fred, get her to safety. That's an order."

Fred hesitated for a fraction of a second before nodding. He slipped an arm under your shoulders and another under your knees, lifting you as if you weighed nothing.

"You're not leaving me, are you?" you murmured, clinging weakly to his shirt.

"Never," he said fiercely.

As Fred carried you through the crumbling halls, his anger simmered just beneath the surface. Every injured student or fallen friend he passed seemed to deepen the fire in his eyes.

"You're going to be okay," he muttered, more to himself than to you. "You're going to be fine. I'm not letting them take you from me."

When you reached the Great Hall, now transformed into a makeshift hospital, Madam Pomfrey rushed to meet you. Fred laid you gently on one of the hastily arranged cots as Madam Pomfrey immediately began assessing your injuries. Her expression was grave but determined.

"Severe blood loss and internal injuries," she muttered, her wand glowing as she waved it over your body. "Mr. Weasley, please, step back. I need space to work."

Fred hovered nearby, his fists clenched and jaw tight. "She's going to be alright, isn't she?" His voice cracked despite his attempt to sound strong.

Madam Pomfrey didn't look up, her focus solely on you. "I'll do everything I can. Now let me concentrate."

Fred turned away, pacing like a caged lion. George caught up moments later, blood smeared on his cheek and a cut above his eyebrow.

"How is she?" George asked quietly, placing a hand on Fred's shoulder.

Fred didn't answer immediately, his gaze fixed on you. "She has to make it," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "I can't lose her, George. Not her."

George squeezed his shoulder. "She's a fighter. She'll pull through. You've just got to keep believing in her."

Fred paced the Great Hall as the sounds of the battle outside seeped through the walls - distant explosions, cries, and the eerie silence that followed each fallen fighter. He couldn't focus on anything but you.

Madam Pomfrey worked tirelessly, and George stayed by Fred's side, watching his brother struggle to keep his emotions in check. "You need to stay strong," George said, his voice firm but kind. "For her. She's going to need you when she wakes up."

Fred stopped pacing, turning to his twin. "She took the hit meant for me, George." His voice broke. "I should be the one lying there. Not her."

"Don't do this to yourself," George said sharply. "She'd throttle you for even thinking that. And you know it."

Fred was about to respond when your faint voice cut through the air. "Fred...?"

He froze. Then he was by your side in an instant, dropping to his knees next to you. Your eyes fluttered open, glassy with pain but alive. Relief washed over him, so intense it left him momentarily speechless.

"Don't look so grim," you rasped, managing a faint smile. "You look awful."

Fred laughed, though it sounded more like a sob. He brushed a hand through your hair, careful not to touch the blood-stained bandages. "You scared the life out of me, love. Don't ever do that again."

"Not exactly my choice," you murmured, grimacing as you shifted slightly. "What's the situation? The passageway?"

"Forget the passageway," Fred said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You're what matters right now. Percy is holding it down."

"You left him?" you whispered, your brow furrowing. "Fred, you can't-"

"I can, and I did," Fred interrupted, gripping your hand tightly. "He ordered me to get you to safety. And I'd make the same choice a thousand times over."

You squeezed Fred's hand weakly, your fingers barely wrapping around his. "Stubborn as ever," you murmured, your voice laced with pain but also a faint teasing tone. "Guess that's why I love you."

Fred's face softened, his usual mischievous grin flickering to life despite the situation. "Good thing, too, because you're stuck with me."

George, standing nearby, crossed his arms and smirked. "Oh, don't worry, Y/N. He's been planning a whole dramatic scene for when you woke up. You know how he is - loves a good audience."

Fred shot George a glare, though it lacked any real venom. "Not the time, George."

Madam Pomfrey, who had been working with relentless focus, finally stepped back, wiping her hands on her robes. "She'll live," she said briskly. "But she'll need rest. No running about casting spells for a while, understood?"

Fred exhaled a breath he didn't realise he was holding. "Thank you," he said, his voice thick with emotion.

Madam Pomfrey raised an eyebrow at him. "Thank me by keeping her still. And don't let her charm her way out of recovery. I know how she is." She glanced at you knowingly before bustling off to tend to the next patient.

Fred turned back to you, his hand still clutching yours. "Hear that, love? You're under strict orders to lie still and let me take care of you for once."

You gave him a weak smile, your eyelids drooping. "Just for a bit. Then back to saving more lives."

Fred leaned closer, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "You've already saved mine," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

George cleared his throat, trying to lighten the mood. "Alright, lovebirds, don't go getting all sappy. There's still a war on, in case you've forgotten."

Fred shot him a tired but grateful look. "Go on, then. I'll catch up once she's settled."

"Don't take too long," George said, his tone unusually serious. "We need every wand out there."

As George disappeared back into the fray, Fred sat beside you, his fingers brushing over yours in a soothing rhythm. "You're my priority now," he said firmly. "They'll manage out there. But I'm not leaving your side until you're safe."

"Fred," you whispered, your voice stronger now, though still strained. "I'll be okay. You need to fight. The castle needs you. They need you."

Fred shook his head, his expression unyielding. "They'll have to manage without me for a while. Because I'm not taking my eyes off you until I know you're out of danger."

"Alright," you murmured, your fingers curling around his. "But promise me... you'll stay safe, too."

Fred leaned closer, his forehead resting against yours. "I promise. Now get some rest, love. We'll get through this. Together."

H.P. masterlist

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #harry potter #harry potter fic #imagine #fred weasley angst #harry potter characters #harry potter and the deathly hallows

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obsessed-with-yandere · 5 months ago

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Me after reading a angst fan fic I read for about 2 hours

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beware-of-pity · 1 month ago

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Cinnamon Girl - III

Masterlist I Ao3 link I Chapter Two - Next

Harry James Potter x Reader

Summary :

In my restless dreams, I see that castle. Hogwarts.

Chapter III: But then she noticed me glance at her (I had no choice but to dance with her)

. ⚯ ͛

Harry was certain it wasn’t good for him to think so much. He was frying whatever last sane thought he had left in his mind, and it wasn’t helping his shaky belief about what he, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had witnessed a few days ago in Knockturn Alley. He pondered it repeatedly, twisting and turning it in every possible way, yet he could not shake that he always arrived at the same conclusion: that Draco had become a Death Eater.

His anxious looks — constantly turning his eyes to watch his back in case he and his mother were being followed — twitching demeanour, and a sense of unwillingness in whatever he was lead into could indicate that whatever he and his mummy were seeking out of Mr Bourgins was no average day-to-day incanted necklaces or dragon skulls, that Harry would rather not like to think how Mr Bourgins got his hands on, request of customers willing to pay a petty penny for whatever they were there for.

To add to his annoyance of the matter, it was the fact that neither of the other witnesses of this event seemed as bothered by it as he was. Harry thought that Ron and Hermione, who were more than familiar with Malfoy’s antics, would be the ones raising eyebrows over what they had seen, and yet he barely got a reaction from them — not what he had hoped for. Neither shared an interest in discussing the many possibilities leading to and resulting in Draco and his mother’s actions.

Nor could he hope to turn to Ginny either. As the one often kept out of the trio’s adventures for obvious reasons, mainly her safety, she could not understand the seriousness of Draco’s unusual change of character. The most she knew was that he was a prick, but that was public knowledge to anyone familiar with Draco’s name. If anything, Ron and Hermione had grown more than annoyed by Harry’s insistence on the matter and his constant blubbering over the theories he came up with. It came to a head on afternoon, where after the last of endless dismissals, Harry got the point and decided he would not share his conclusions until he was certain of them. He didn’t feel heard, and he wasn’t sure even the adults would be willing to listen to him.

Sure, he was just a boy, but no boy his age had faced the things he had. He possessed a maturity unbecoming the nature of his boyhood, and yet it was one he could not rid himself of. No, he stunk of it; he carried it within him like heavy baggage weighing down his shoulders. Always at his back, pushing down, as a reminder that he would never be normal and he would never be given the normalcy he craved and deserved.

But for how much he wishes for someone to hear his opinions, even he was uncertain of his thoughts. After all, for whatever reason would a boy of Draco’s age even become a death eater? But for Harry, many, many reasons would ditto so.

For one, Lucius’ imprisonment following the guilty verdict of his trial. Draco had always been one to hold onto his feelings. Harry was sure that injustice was swelling within him as his father was carried out of the room, soon to be thrown into Azkaban. He could not dismiss the fact that Draco and his family had taken it upon themselves to ensure they lay their own perverse sense of justice in the matter. Revenge is a dish best-served cold, or so they say, but Draco’s rage may be surging too intensely through his body for whatever he was planning not to have a greater impact than what his initial impression of the situation suggested.

What happened to Lucius wasn’t an injustice by any means. If anything, Harry had wished he’d faced a much grander show of humiliation. Had Harry had his way, he wasn’t sure if Lucius would have met a more deserving conviction or not. As much as he craved to hurt those who had hurt him far more than they had him, he did not have it in him to hurt others.

The cruciatus curse he had failed to throw at Bellatrix Lestrange was testament enough to that.

He had to mean it; he had to, and yet he did not. The woman had killed his godfather, the man he viewed as a second father, and yet even when given the opportunity, he could not bring himself to hurt. He wished to see her writhe in pain, begging him for mercy, hearing her screams echo through the halls of the ministry as his magic coursed through her body, injecting her with the same pain he was hurled constantly by the man she was devoted to.

And yet she did not. It hit her, but all the red blast of magic coming from the tip of his wand did was startle her in slight shock, if not anger at the audacity he had done so with, and him to a degree. All because he did not mean to. He spoke it, directed it at her — but as they say, if the heart does not mean so, then, even as the mind screams against it, it could not carry itself to complete what his nerves had begun almost automatically. Hurting Bellatrix would not bring Sirius back, that he knew.

Poor Harry. Even when given the opportunity, the opening, into a situation where he could have had every right to act upon his feelings, raging inside of him like a storm, as his heartbeat to a mile, and adrenaline rushes through every crevice of his body he could not but face the true nature of his self.

And despite everything that life threw at him, Harry could not, and would not stray, from who he was. No, he could not allow it. If he loses himself, what else would he allow himself to lose? It all begins with him, and if he ends up ending himself before everything is to come to an end, what will remain when everything is gone and done?

He wants to be tender and merciful because if people like him did not exist, then who would battle the wretchedness of mankind? He was sure it sounded overly valourous.

‘Sounds like penance’ he could almost hear a certain someone resound in his ears. But it wasn’t you, not it could not since you had not appeared in his dreams following the night he came to face you in the dark woods of the burrow.

He spooked you, perhaps? But you had sought him out, led him to meet you there. Angered you? He’d asked if he would see you again, and your absence could not be a clear answer to the question that had been left unanswered. As if he needed more things to trouble himself with, this wasn’t it.

It... bothered him. How empty his mind was without you swimming along the banks of its river, at the edge between the living and the surreal, the real and the fake. It came to the point where he’d come to imagine the sound of your voice speaking his thoughts to himself.

How pathetic. How low had he stooped? How high had he risen in the first place? This wasn’t normal, but then again, whatever was normal in his life?

You... heard him in ways others did not. Perhaps it was the fact that he could not hide anything from you, or maybe it was the fact that you did not judge him for some of his... darker thoughts. No, no, you never did. You never judged; you just listened, heard, watched, perhaps because there was nothing more you could do.

His thoughts, of all kinds, open and secretive, light and dark — you knew of them.

If he speaks, you listen. If he thinks, you hear. If he asks, he shall receive.

Dreams, altered memories, visions of those lost souls he wished he could mend unsaid and unfinished business with, have one last talk with. He’d never been denied an open ear or shoulder to bear his worries to by you, and that made him feel more welcome to express himself to a practical stranger, like you, rather than his friends and guardians of years.

As so, he dreams. Sometimes, he thinks that’s the right thing to do. Dreams — places where he can envision whatever he wants with no consequences. Where he can ask for anything if he’d so likes, and it will be given to him.

Every night, as he lay in bed, he drew the curtains open to let the light from the outside in. As the candles by the bedside tables are flicked off, he hopes that as he closes his eyes, he’ll see you.

He wishes to see you again. He has so many things he still has to ask, your last and first conversation ending before he could truly say, elaborate, articulate, and speak what he desired to open his mind about. You knew that Draco was up to no good; if there was someone who would listen to his intuition, he knew it would be you.

But without you in his dreams or your magic surging through him, his nightly escapades into his dreamscapes were far less grand and... comfortable for him to enjoy. Boring and unvaried scenarios playing in his head were leaden in the far bigger scheme you and him had ended playing into with your games. He felt that it did not matter who he was when you riddled him with confusing words and unravelling truths, even as he understood that they played along with what you were there for —him.

There was Harry before there was ‘The Chosen One’, but how many will remember him as just Harry if he dies at the hands of his fated enemy before he fulfils the prophecy his mother and father died as a result of? But then again, was there ever just Harry? Or had it always just been Harry Potter?

Harry Potter ‘The Boy Who Lived’; Harry Potter ‘The Boy Who Escaped Death’ when drawn against him when he was just a babe? He was the Harry Potter before he knew who he was in the eyes of many. Had he ever come to know who he was apart from who others told him? Apart from what he had been turned into? A spectacle for all to behold. A freak of nature or the result of a freak accident. No other babe in their cradle could have withstood what he had; that alone made him special, and yet Harry did not feel special. He felt exhausted.

In the end, it would not matter. All that did was that he would finish what with his survival he’d been tasked to end. His feelings never mattered because what if he just disappeared and was given the task of being the chosen one by someone else? Selfish, he was sure to be called upon many things, but at this point, Harry would not mind being selfish, even if he could not bring himself to be. All he had ever known was to save people; how could he run from what came naturally to him?

He grew up knowing he had no choice in the route his life led down. The question was, where would it end?

So young and so doomed. A boy, he was, and yet here he was contemplating his possible, perhaps imminent death. He did not want to die. No, he did not.

Afraid, that’s what he was, when the thought would rise like a wave and wash over him in the most random of moments. It would choke him out of the air he breathed and clog his throat and senses in the worst ways possible, making it so that he could not think of anything other than the images his mind conjured up.

The normalcy you provided him with cleared his mind of such troubling feelings, and when even you left him with nothing to distract himself with, he had Mrs Weasley endlessly fussing over him, Ron, Hermione and Ginny about their upcoming return to Hogwarts. Just a few days before he was set off to the place he called his own home, he got to meet an old acquaintance of his, Fleur, engaged to Bill, Ron’s brother. The same Bill that the whole family had gone to visit in Egypt just as Sirius had first broken out of Azkaban. Lovely as always, Fleur was a delight to reacquaint with; Ginny and Hermione thought otherwise, especially the latter, who could not but roll her eyes every time Ron would lose himself in his brother’s fiancee, juvenile puppy love swirling along his irises.

They were planning a wedding, or so he was told, around his birthday next year. That meant he would likely spend it at the Weasleys, and Harry could not see a better way to spend the day he was celebrated.

On the night of the 31st of August, Mrs Weasley had let everyone know that she would not have the evening go in any other way than to see everyone’s truck well filled and planted at the doorsteps within the hour of their bedtime, well-meaning into getting a good inspection out of them, always worrying if anyone had missed something on their list or if they had just not packed well enough in her opinion, which was often the case for Ron, never good at fixing his own mess.

“It’s going to get messed along the way anyways!” He argued as his mother laid his truck bare open on the living room area’s floor, her hands skimming along his strawn-together robes and books neither in order nor pilled, the lighter ones falling on everything along the surface before them.

Both Harry and Ginny stared in amusement as Hermione only shook her head at what he had chastised Ron to be the outcome of the dismissal of the warning she’d given him as he just threw everything in the trunk. Despite the assail of the evening before, the morning of the 1st had been smother than the other six years past had been. Waking up early had always been a sore, he would always complain about so, but he could very well catch on it on the train the sooner he got on it.

The Ministry cars glided up to the front of the Burrow to find them waiting, trunks packed, their personal belongings and animals delicately picked from the bunch.

But as smooth as their early morning had been, the same could not be said for the latter half of it. No cheerful Hagrid awaited them at King's Cross Station. Instead, two grim-faced Aurors dressed in Muggle suits made quick work of escorting them into the station. Harry was not fond of being manhandled up to the barrier, but so was protocol, and he only gave a sign of his displeasure on the new order of things as he reminded the man in front of him of his rather exceptional ability to be able to walk by himself, on his own two feet, something he’d mastered since he was a baby, thank god.

The scarlet Hogwarts Express stood belching before the crowd of old and new students as it did every year, steaming over them, ready for departure any minute. With one last farewell to Mrs Weasley, he hopped onto the train, followed by the others, his eyes skimming over the overcrowded compartments to find one empty for them, but he realised that such a thing would be futile when Ron and Hermione had prefect duties to fill into and that Ginny had already left to join Dean wherever he was.

People stared shamelessly as he passed, some pressing their faces against the windows of their compartments to get a better look at him. He frowned at the desperation of many, finding no reason whatsoever of why he would be the cause of such reactions — but he could not complain; it was far better than the cold reception he received upon his return last year. He supposed it was to be expected. His face had landed on every possible surface a witch or wizard could land their eyes upon, and the infamous battle he had taken part in was sure to be the cause of the upswing of gaping and gawping he would have to endure as the so-declared "Chosen One" gazettes like the Daily Prophet were spreading around.

His fame had reached an all-time high, but even then, he did not enjoy the sensation of standing in the bright spotlight he was thrown into.

He sat alone in a lonesome section of the train, yet to be filled by the overly enchanted first years wanting to explore it all and the older students in search of their friends. But the loneliness of where he had ended did not keep him company for long.

First, it was Neville, same, good, old Neville. Round-faced, a bit skirmish, and struggling his way through the hall before he stopped at the door of his compartment. They chatted a bit, caught up in each other’s summer before they were joined by, none other than, Luna. A pair of spectrespecs stood high on her head as she clutched to her a few copies of the Quibbler she’d been handing out throughout the train. Harry took one cheerily, always sharing a fodness for the magazine since he’d given them a private interview last year.

Despite her more than serene outlook, as he spoke, Luna’s attention was anywhere but on him. Instead, her eyes skirred all over the packed hall of the train as if in search of someone.

“Waiting on someone?” He asked. She smiled with the same loopiness as always.

“I am. A friend, or so she insists. My roommate. You see, I was looking for her, but it was quite useless. She’s everywhere all at once; I could never hope to find her, so I wait until she comes to me,” she hummed. “She always does, after all. I envy that of her—being always able to find her way back. You know how lost I get at times.”

Harry’s brows furrowed at the vague mention of a friend from Luna. A friend? Luna wasn’t exactly sought after as a friend by others, even if he considers her one of his, very dear and understanding despite her odd nature.

“Did you change roommates?” He asks, trying to hide his curiosity but failing to do so.

“I have. After an accident at the end of last year, I’ve been allowed to share a room with the sixth-year girls. The others kind of stray to let me have space to myself, but she’s been the only one I feel like being something of a friend with.”

Oh? Well, if that is how it is, he could not question it. It made sense that Luna would feel more comfortable with an older girl, one who could understand her quirks and oddities.

Luna is simply Luna, and he appreciates her for that and he trusts her while at it. With her, there’s no need for deeper meanings or hidden intentions buried within her words — unlike a certain someone he can think of. He wondered if you were around here, with someone, in one of the many train compartments occupying your ride.

He bid both Neville and Luna farewell once Luna seemed more than eager to continue her distribution of the Quibbler, Neville proposing his help in the endeavour as they both walked away at the same time as Ron and Hermione joined him in the compartment he had made himself welcomed to.

As he asked how their roundabout of the train went, Ron passively said, “Malfoy's not doing prefect duty. ‘Sitting in his compartment with the other Slytherins, we saw him when we passed. Quite the sight he was”

Harry’s eyes followed Ron slumping into the seat cushion, before moving to Hermione’s in front of him.

“Unlike him, don’t you think?” He commented, a hint of sarcasm unbecoming of him laced with his words. “I’ve been telling you. That day, at Bourgins and Bourke, it was a ceremony. An initiation-“ “I know where you’re going with this, you’ve been muttering about it all week.”

Hermione’s exasperated tone overruns him, but that doesn’t stop him.

“It’s happened. He’s one of them”

“One of what?” Asks Ron, confused by the banter.

“Harry is under the impression that Draco Malfoy is now a Death Eater”, sighs Hermione as she straightens the copy of the Daily Prohpets in her hands.

“You’re barking. What would You-Know-Who want with a sod like Malfoy?” Ron is incredulous by the assumption laid before him. Harry can see it; he doesn’t believe in it at all.

“His father’s a Death Eater. It only makes sense. Besides, Hermione saw it. With her own eyes.” Insists Harry.

“I told you. I don’t know what I saw.” It’s almost like Hermione’s voice is about to rise at her last spoken words. She does not want to argue about this any longer than they’ve already had. But she’s cut off by a knock on the screen of the compartment’s door.

A third-year girl stepped forward, a scroll of parchment paper held high in her hand.

“For Harry Potter?” Her voice is uncertain as her eyes travel from Ron to Hermione and finally to him “From Professor Slugghorn”

She rushes out the moment the scroll lands in his hands. The paper is almost heavy with whatever's written on it.

He pulls at the purple ribbon holding the paper together. The silk of the string is unlike the velvety cord he pulled from your hair at the Joke shop, always nestled tight in his pocket. He seldom parted from the possession —sometimes, when in the solitariness of his own self, he would twist and turn the line of thread over and over in between his fingers. When without a pocket in hand, he would secure it around whichever wrist was free of confines, the many turns of the fabric adorning his skin like a bracelet, such as now.

The words written on paper read :

‘Dear Harry,

I would be delighted if you would join me for a bite of lunch in compartment C.

Sincerely, Horace.’

“Well?” He heard Ron ask as he stared at the sea of letters.

“An invitation for lunch” he tucks the letters in the back pocket of his pants as he stands from his seat, “I’ll be back in a short while. I don’t expect this to last long”

Lying was something he would not easily do unless the occasion required it of him. This was one of them. A simple, white lie meant in good riddance — and anyway, if he were to say he later got caught up in something to cover up for his abnormal absence, he would not have been lying earlier, would he?

"Good luck?" Ron says with a chuckle.

Hermione does not seem as amused as her friend is. "Be careful, will you?" she tells him, her expression worried.

Harry gives them a small nod before making his way out of the compartment and into the hall.

That’s why he had slipped the invisibility cloak right from beneath Ron and Hermione’s eyes as he walked out of the compartment, stowing it messily under his shirt, to be careful, no?

The corridors were overflowing with people on the lookout for the lunch trolley. He pushed past them despite his inability to avoid all the staring from passersby and lingering students.

He continued until the door to Compartment C stood in front of him. He took a deep breath to prepare himself for what lay beyond him, then pushed the door to the side and entered the railcar.

"Harry, m’boy!" His reception was most welcome, especially from Professor Slughorn, who made a grand show of greeting him. He stepped forward to take Harry's hand, shaking it as if they were long-lost friends reconnecting after a long time.

Stepping beside him with the old man’s hand patting his back, he was presented to the professor’s fellow guests. A lovely assembly, for sure — he was surprised to see both Ginny and Neville among the callers of this soiree.

Neville squirmed in place while Ginny looked like she didn’t know how she’d ended there, sitting at the table right beside Neville, with only an empty seat dividing the two. Beside Neville, McLaggen, of all people, sat there; the wiry-haired youth raised a hand to Harry, who nodded in turn. Marcus Belby sat in between McLaggen and Slytherin twins sisters Flora and Hestia Carrow, the youngest of the bunch, a quiet duo, not much for words. It seemed as if the girls were making Marcus as green-sick as if he were on a ship.

And then…

Slightly off the others, just beside Zabini, who sat at the other end of where Ginny did, sat you, clad in a smooth, fancy, vest dress in a dark blue with a rich, white dress shirt underneath. Peaking through the collar of your shirt was a string of pearls, the same as the ones adorning your ears.

Your eyes pierced through his with the same old intensity he had come to know them by.

He gulped down a knot castrating his airway, letting out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding that had caught in his troath when he first landed his eyes on you.

“And here he is," Professor Slughorn boomed, clapping Harry on the back. "Our very own Harry Potter! Now, now, let me introduce you to everyone.”

But Harry heard none of it; he was far too entranced by you to be able to focus on anything else.

You smiled, but it lacked the warmth smiles usually held. It is subtle, never apparent. It is not cold but as still and firm as a painting, like brushstrokes, firm and steady, perfectly detailed the upturn of the soft, plump, rosy skin of your lips. Your eyes, as sticking and downturned as always, are endless pits he could not but lose himself in. Mirrors for his reflection to stare back at him. A gentle sort of horror, the one that haunts and remembers, that sends trill down his spine and back to the nape of his neck and makes every nerve in his body shiver.

So pleasant to those who look upon you, you appear, and through your eyes, a sweetness touches the heart that cannot be understood by those who do not feel it, except for him, because he knows, deep down, that it’s reserved only for him. A beauty that appeals only to the withered eastern lilies and white bellflowers, dry and gone but begrudging in their demise. One that resembles the edge of a sharp knife, myrrh on wrists and wood — beams of moonlight protruding through the trees of a forest, which he gazes up at as he lies in the vastness of the wastelands that is the ground. Damned, knowing he is damned, but living still, prevailing through the doom. Magdalenian, divine and... sad.

There was a sadness in your expression, a profound melancholy that spoke of a heartache too severe to be named. It was as if you had seen too much, known too much, and carried the weight of the world on your shoulders. It mesmerised him, like an inexplicable pull that he couldn't resist. He was drawn to the rawness of your pain.

Prophet girl,

Chosen by the moon,

Did you cry when the gods whispered words of solemn stardust in your ears?

It was a feeling he was all too familiar with, but it still had the power to make his skin tingle and his heart beat just a little faster.

He tried to maintain his composure, to act as if nothing was amiss, but his palms were becoming clammy and his heart was thundering in his ears, but it was futile. Once you’d caught his gaze, you held it until it hurt.

“And, of course, here we have, Miss Y/N Gaunt!” introduced Slugghorn once he arrived where you sat. “A fine addition to this gathering, if I do say so myself.”

So, that was your name, the thing he’d been chasing for a month on end. He had never heard of anyone with the name “Gaunt”. He tried to school his features, hoping to hide his confusion, as he watched Professor Slughorn gesture towards you. Despite this, It seemed to ring a bell, but he couldn't quite place it. He had a face, a name, and a person to which to look in time and space, and yet he could never place you anywhere. He tried to recall if he had ever read the name before, but nothing stood out in his mind.

“Such a pity your brother could not join us, Miss Gaunt,”, said Slugghorn “but so generous of him to send us Mr Zabini in his steed. Ah, but alas, I understand, prefect duties, we all must do our part for this school, no?”

Harry couldn't help but notice the change in your expression as Professor Slughorn mentioned your brother. There was a subtle shift in your gaze, a hardening of your features. It was brief, but it was enough for him to pick up on it.

"Of course, professor" Your voice was light, unconfrontational and agreeable as you spoke, but void and empty as if you were agreeing for the sake of agreeing, not really because you agreed with Slugghorn. But despite how captivating it was, there was something a bit unnerving about it as well. It was almost too polite, too agreeable. It lacked any sort of emotion or enthusiasm, and it felt like you were just going through the motions.

“We all have our part to play,” you added, and the word struck him to his very core. And in a moment, he was transported back to that moment in the forest. The memory as vivid as the rays of sunlight coming in the window beside you — he felt it — the cool night air against his skin and the dampness of the forest ground filling his nose. It was as if you had just spoken those words to him once more.

He found himself unable to respond, his mouth suddenly dry and his mind racing. He could only stare at you, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Indeed", agreed Harry, voice choked on the edge. Slugghorn looked between you two, trying to decipher the edge that laced the shared moment. A beat, then -

"Well now, this is most pleasant," said Slughorn cosily. "A chance to get to know you all a little better. Here, take a napkin. I've packed my own lunch; the trolley, as I remember it, is heavy on liquorice wands, and a poor old man's digestive system isn't quite up to such things... Pheasant, Belby?”

The boy looked pale, Harry now realised, as Marcus took what looked like half a pheasant. He was eagerly moved to sit between Neville and Ginny, the latter sending him a furrowed look, which he dismissed.

Slugghorn set on about talking of each most prominent trait or fact he could find about his guests. Marcus’ uncle, Cormac’s uncle, Zabini’s mother, the twin’s family prestige and so on and on and on he went.

It was as Dumbledore had said and as he had come to understand on their first meeting. Everyone here seemed to have been invited because they were connected to somebody well-known or influential. Neville didn’t fare too well under Slugghorn’s interrogation, and by the end of it, Harry had the impression that Slughorn was reserving judgment on Neville, yet to see whether he had any of his parents' flair and place in the world.

He noticed that you didn't seem to be offering much in terms of conversation, but you were following and listening intently to what the others were saying, unlike him who had grown restless and rather annoyed by the professor’s interest in slithering his way into the secret of each of them.

“Of course, I don’t have to spare introductions between you and me, Miss Gaunt” teased Slugghorn, all too excitedly. "Of course not," Professor Slughorn continued, "Miss Gaunt is sure to become one of my brightest.”

Harry raised an eyebrow at Professor Slughorn's enthusiasm. He knew that the professor was known for his preference for ambitious students, but this seemed just a little excessive and he couldn’t help but frown at the familiar nature the professor seemed to share with you and your family.

“my father would be pleased to hear you say so, professor," you said, with the same monotony as always, but it was neither passive nor annoyed. It is a calm and rather natural kind, one you seem to wear like a second sleeve — a stark contrast to the warmth and enthusiasm that Slughorn was displaying.

"your father, of course! Dear Abelar, I always knew he was destined for great things. I expected nothing more than for his children to follow in his footsteps," exclaims Slugghorn, bumping his leg up the table ever so slightly it made everything on the surface tremble. Ginny and he readied to stabilise their cups filled with pumpkin juice.

He bristled at Slughorn's words. It was one thing to be placed on a pedestal for a legacy one shared with someone; expecting you to live up to your father's legacy was another. He had seen firsthand how such expectations could weigh heavily on someone's shoulders. He wondered if the professor was being sincere or merely pandering to you. Nevertheless, the sympathy coursing through him for you was very much real. The way he spoke of your father was certainly over the top. He stole a glance, just with the tail of his eye, but then again, he didn't expect to see anything but the same impassiveness as ever. Of course, you would be, it was your father they were talking about, he was you knew best what Slugghorn was talking about. What he was most curious about was the fact that now, he could place another piece to the puzzle he’d been building in his head. Perhaps it had been his fault that he’d not asked more of the man he’d seen conversing with Narcissa just before the whole fiasco with Draco blew in their faces. But you were the daughter of the man who had deserted the order in exchange for a life far away from the reach of the dark lord.

You were Sirius’ cousin. He realized. Or something like that…

That explains the resemblance, he mused inwardly. But your demeanour was the complete opposite of Sirius’s. He was loud, impulsive, rash, and quick to emotion, especially anger, while you were calm, aloof, and composed, almost cold, your face betraying nothing. It was like night and day.

"Ah, so you see, I had the pleasure of teaching Y/N's father" said Slughorn as he chews on a roll "I might say, perhaps the best of the best I've had the pleasure of teaching. Sad to say, he seems to have disappeared off the face of the earth! I was hoping to catch his eye this morning but it seems he didn't accompany you and your brother?”

“My father is a busy man” you explained, as simply as that “but he’s aware just how hard you've been trying to contact him, professor, so he's asked me to send you his regards”

"Oh, of course, of course, how kind of him" Looking rather pleased with himself, Slughorn continues "Tell me, my dear, what is he up to these days? Last I heard, he was in Albania.”

A ghost of a smile appeared on your face, Harry noticed with curiosity. “still there. He’s gotten rather invested in the magical creatures found within the Albanian forest, doing some research as always.” You took what seemed like a dainty bite from your roll, chewing slowly and in silence for some moments before adding, "he’s doing fine, though”

Slughorn nodded, slightly confused and…nervous, almost guarded, as if he knew something about your father that he wasn't sharing "Well, who would have thought that of him”

“he’s always been a curious soul, my father, as I’m sure you know,” you took the cup in front of you “Always been an enthusiast of the less common creatures," you said, with a hint of a smile in your voice, as you took a sip from your juice, looking across the table as if you were searching something - or someone. Your gaze met his, and he looked away quickly. "I’m sure he’s discovered all sorts of things about the forest; it is a very untamed place.”

There was a fondness in your voice that betrayed your otherwise indifferent tone. He wondered what Abelar Gaunt was like as a father. Had he helped build that strong exterior you so easily hid behind, or had it been the result of a childhood lived in solitude? And if you loved him, then what about your brother? Harry shook himself, trying to focus on the conversation at hand rather than the questions swirling in his head.

“Oh, yes, untamed, alright’” Slughorn nodded along his word, but anyone could see he was eager to change the topic of the discussion. He meandered off into a long-winded reminiscence of his prime as a professor and how eager he was to teach once more so many prominent and able students like them.

He was growing tired, if he may say so himself, all this talking and waste of time was truly getting to him, and he could see from the others that he was not alone in his sentiment. Except for you, who continued to indulge blissfully and unawarely in the food in front of you, ever so slowly raising a bit of your choosing to your lips.

The afternoon wore on with more anecdotes about illustrious wizards Slughorn had taught, all of whom had been delighted to join what he called the "Slug Club" at Hogwarts. Harry could not wait to leave, but couldn't see how to do so politely. Finally, the train emerged from yet another long misty stretch into a red sunset, and Slughorn looked around, blinking in the twilight.

"Good gracious, it's getting dark already! I didn't notice that they'd lit the lamps! You'd better go and change into your robes, all of you. McLaggen, you must drop by and borrow that book on dog tails. Harry, Blaise ... any time you're passing. Same goes for you, miss," he twinkled at Ginny. “And Miss Gaunt, do tell your brother I want him there for our next meeting. No compromises! Well, off you go, off you go!"

Harry was one of the first to rise and almost ran to the compartment door - and then remembered that he was supposed to wait for everyone to leave so that he could, well, sneak off without being noticed. He cursed himself and tried to make the best of waiting for everyone to go first as he stood by the side of the door outside, as everyone passed him, his muscles itching to move.

But then, he heard a pair of soft footsteps behind him. He didn’t have to turn to know it was you. You closed the door behind you with one last goodbye to Professor Slughorn before you turned to him, the quiet and silence of the hall making this all the more….intimate.

Your expression was unchanged, but there was something in the way you looked at him - no, through him - that made his skin tingle momentarily.

“Be careful” you say, as soft as a whisper “he’s scared and watching all the time”

"how do you know?" he muttered back, his fingers clenching and unclenching involuntarily.

You smiled the same as you had before, your eyes wandering all over his face until they landed on the ceiling as if you could see beyond it. "How would I not know?"

He swallowed dry, racking his brain for a response, but his mind came up blank, as white and empty as paper. Instead, he stared back, as if trying to decipher the riddle behind your words.

"Right," he responded weakly. "Stupid question."

you hummed "I'd think not”

He felt the edge of his lips turn ever so slightly upward. He might have found comfort in your words if he weren't so unsettled by your gaze or…wording.

"You seem to know a lot," he said, his voice quiet. "Too much, if you ask me." he breathed in "I'm...glad to see you....somewhere that's not my head”

The words had slipped out before he could stop himself. He felt the blood rush to his face, his checks coming alight, and he closed his mouth as If that could take his words back but it was far too late. He braced himself for your reaction, hoping you hadn't heard the double meaning he had only just realized himself.

“As am I” you breathed gently, and for a moment, it was like he was dreaming again. Your breath fanned his face, and his nose whiffed with the scent of vanilla and candescence coming from your hair.

You sounded sincere, and a part of Harry hoped you were. He wanted it to be, needed it.

"You...you are?" he found himself asking, his voice low and hesitant.

You hummed once more and nodded along. Your simple gesture of acknowledgement was like a small flame of hope that flickered within him. He wanted to say more, to ask you more questions, but he felt strangely tongue-tied.

"Is it...?" he started "Why-" he found himself pausing, feeling a lump in his throat “Never mind.”

He cursed himself inwardly, feeling foolish. This wasn't how he wanted to present himself in front of you. He should be confident and suave, not stuttering like an idiot. But you disarmed him, made his walls come down, leaving him vulnerable.

Maybe that’s how you liked him…

He took a deep breath, trying to regain some composure. "how do you know where I'm going?

“I saw it” you only said "You'll get hurt, be careful. But..don’t worry I'll come back to get you"

He certainly did hope that you would come back to get him since he couldn’t move a muscle, and the train would soon leave to return to London. He’ll be damned if he didn’t get his comeback for this. The Invisibility Cloak he laid under hid him from the bare eye, and perhaps, maybe, it was for the better with the way his face must have looked now. The blood seeping from his nose flowed, hot and wet, down his nose and over his lips, throbbing and pulsing heavily with each breath.

He didn’t know for how long he’d been lying there, but gosh, did he hope someone would just notice how long he’d been gone. Ron and Hermione would think that he had left the train without them. Once they arrived at Hogwarts and took their places in the Great Hall, looked up and down the Gryffindor table a few times, and finally realized that he was not there, he, no doubt, would be halfway back to London.

He just wanted to prove his suspicions right, was it so wrong of him? He always chanted in his head that the end would justify the means — he didn’t know if to regret it now.

His head was pounding from the adrenaline, but most of all, from the kick that little blonde git had thrown at him.

He’d never hated Malfoy more than as he lay there, like an absurd turtle on its back, blood dripping sickeningly into his open mouth. What a stupid situation to have landed himself in... and now the last few footsteps were dying away; everyone was shuffling along the dark platform outside he thought himself doomed.

Until he wasn’t. The cloak had been pulled from him, and there again, true to your words, stood you. And for a moment, he could move once more. Like a fish out of water, he breathed hard, trying to open his lungs to the not-so-fresh air of the compartment. He tried to stand, but you placed a hand on his chest as you knelt before him, pushing him back down.

“I told you to be careful, didn’t I?”

He wanted to snap at you, to tell you that it was no fault of his that he'd ended up in this position.

But you had warned him. You'd warned him, and he had been too stubborn to listen. That, and maybe a bit too intrigued by you.

He tried to speak, but his voice came out as a hoarse whisper.

"Yeah," he groaned, wincing as pain shot through his head. "You did.”

"where else are you hurt?" your eyes scanned over his blood-soaked face, trying to see if he'd been inflicted any more damage.

"Just my face," he muttered. "I think my nose is broken."

He reached up to touch his face, but you batted his hand away, surprising him. You gently placed your own hand on his cheek, and he couldn't help but shiver at the contact of your warm skin on his cold one.

“You blasted fool” you whispered “he didn’t know you were only bluffing”

"Yeah, well, I couldn't just do nothing", he grumbled, looking away from your intense gaze. He knew he’d been foolish, but his anger and frustration at Malfoy had gotten the best of him. He didn't want to admit it, but he too was disappointed in himself for his recklessness.

"I was sure he was up to something" he muttered. "I just had to find out what.”

You raised an eyebrow at his words, a small disapproving look in your eyes.

"But at what cost, Harry?" you asked quietly. "Look at you now."

His cheeks burned with embarrassment, but not at the fact that you were right, but rather, at the way you’d said his name. So different coming from you, it rolled in a way that was so pleasant to the ear it could send waves of pleasure through him., his chest twisting in just the right way.

"Come," you said "we must get off before the train leaves”

He nodded, feeling a twinge of pain coursing through him as he tried to sit up. His head was spinning, but he gritted his teeth, pushed on, and did as you said. With your help, he managed to get to his feet, if unsteady and wobbly.

"I can walk" he protested weakly, as you put a hand under his arm to support him.

“Just let me help you”

Help. Harry never often asked for help. Most times, it was people asking Harry for help, not the other way around. And yet, he didn't protest as you took his arm in yours, clutching it in between your hands. Instead, he almost melted into your touch.

You held him tightly, keeping him upright.

"Easy," you murmured.

He let out a shaky breath, grateful for your steadying presence.

“It’s rotten work”

“Not to me” you argued, “Not if it’s you”

The castle glitters as you two finally arrive at the front steps, where the gates limit the access to the school grounds. Harry, face blood-spattered, nose slightly off-centre, has now steadied himself on his feet but hasn’t said a word about the feel returning to his legs, as he embraces his arm with yours, fingers silently intertwined with the others.

“I’m sorry I made you miss the carriage” he murmurs as he daps at his nose with the handkerchief you’d given him with his free hand.

“It’s alright”, you smile faintly “I’m very fond of walking. Especially when in good company"

He smiled in turn, feeling a strange flutter of warmth in his chest. He had never been in this position before - walking arm-in-arm with a girl, and he found himself strangely comfortable with the situation.

"I'm glad..." he muttered, still dabbing at his bloody nose. "That you like walking, I mean.”

“Sure,” you said “Perhaps you could join me for some time,” you said, passively, as if you'd not given your words a second thought, as you always did, it seems.

Harry's heart skipped a beat at your words. The thought of walking with you - just the two of you - filled him with anticipation and nervousness. Although, he couldn't help but feel a small bubble of excitement at the prospect.

"I'd...I'd like that" he replied, trying to sound casual, although he was sure his voice had betrayed him.

"We have much to talk about, you and I, don't you think?" you tilted your head as you turned to look at him.

"Yes," he replied quietly. "I think we do.”

Just then Professor Flitwick rushes forth clutching a long roll of parchment bearing all students’ names, finger pointed and tone inquisitive.

“About time! I’ve been looking all over for you two. Names.”

Harry turns to look at you for a moment before saying “Professor, you’ve known me for five years”

“No exceptions, Potter!” He then turns to you “And you, Gaunt, you were lucky we didn’t have to perform tonight. The disaster it would have been without you in the choir. Can you imagine?!”

Harry stifled a chuckle as Professor Flitwick chastised you. He was surprised to hear that you were part of the choir, but it made sense given your penchant for singing.

"I can only imagine," he said dryly, suppressing a grin, which garnered him a look from you as if you were asking him not to encourage the man.

"Forgive me, professor. It will not happen again" You sounded apologetic, if not, that your face said otherwise, or rather, nothing at all. You looked past the little man, or just...looked ahead "Who are those people?”

Harry turns and sees you staring into the darkness, where shadows drift eerily like ghosts.

“Aurors. For security.” Responds Flitwick in chill distaste.

A voice not far ahead catches the attention of the three of you. Draco, standing amidst a mountain of trunks, owl cages and other animals alike, eyes Filch intently as he passes a long security detector over a…stick.

“It’s not a cane, you cretin. It’s a walking stick!” Just as things seem to tense between student and caretaker, out of the shadows emerges Snape, coming to Draco’s defence.

Snape watches Malfoy carefully wrap the stick in felt and lay it back inside his trunk.

“I’ll vouch for Mr Malfoy” simple words from a simple man, but Harry knows the implications of those words are not simple at all. If he’s vouching for a walking stick, he cannot imagine what he’ll have to vouch for in the coming school year.

Draco eyes Snape warily again, then begins to slouch off, catching you two staring at him.

“Nice face, Potter” he comments smugly before he turns to you, eyeing you wearily “Cousin” he sneers, a mix of emotions underlying the title he used to address you before he turns his back to walk away.

His blood boiled at Malfoy's words. He’d opened his mouth, about to say something in rebuttal, when he felt a hand on his arm restraining him. He looked over to see you shaking your head slightly, silently telling him to let it go.

He wanted to argue, but the pleading look in your eyes made him hold his tongue.

“Cousin, huh?” He asked dry sarcasm in his tone.

“It’s a long story”

Harry felt like there was always a long story with you. He wanted to know more, but before he could ask, Professor Flitwick cleared his throat.

"Alright, everyone to the castle, chop-chop.” He said “And, Miss Gaunt? Your friend Lovegood is waiting for you on the way. She’s got your bag.”

You nodded and gave him a soft "thank you”

Luna, good old Luna, was indeed not waiting far from the gate, with your bag in hand. She smiled and greeted him as if they had not talked last on the train before it journeyed to Hogwarts.

“Whatever happened to your nose? Nasty thing, if you ask me”

Harry chuckled despite himself. Luna's blunt honesty was always a breath of fresh air. "Yeah, it is a nasty thing" he agreed, gingerly touching his nose. "Got a friendly greeting from Malfoy.”

"Fix it for him, will you, Luna?" you asked as you dabbed with the handkerchief his nose, even as he gently prodded you off.

Harry felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment, as Luna took out her wand.

“I’ve learned a few spells, you know” she mentioned off-handedly, flicking her wand at his face “Episkey.”

Harry felt the bones of his nose realigning, but the pain still lingered. He groaned out before releasing a little breath “Thanks, Luna,” he muttered, giving her a grateful smile.

Reluctantly, he turned to you and asked "How...do I look?”

You took a few steps closer to him, tilting your head slightly to examine your and Luna's work. “perfect,” you said decisively.

Harry felt his heart skip a beat at your words. "perfect" he repeated softly, his cheeks feeling warm.

He couldn't help but feel like the adjective wasn't just referring to his nose.

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