#harry potter dream cast

[pandaanarchy]

HP Roleplay | Devon Bostick as young!Mundungus "Dung" Fletcher

— I'm not a thief! You foul little... git! I'm a buyer and purveyor of valuable and wondrous objects.

[slytherinherewithme]

Harry Potter TV series dream cast

So here is my dream cast for the new Harry Potter series. As much as I don't support JK Rowling, and I think it's too soon to remake the original movies, I am a little excited to see who gets cast in these Iconic roles. I won't be suggesting for the child roles, purely because I don't know many actors who are young enough, however I'd love an actor of colour to take on Harry or Hermione and I hope Ron remains ginger. Also, many of these characters don't appear until later on in the series but I'm mostly just amusing myself.

So, first of all. Remus Lupin. I actually saw another article suggesting this same actor as a Quirrell but for me he would be a perfect Remus, I loved him in Heartstopper and he seems so gentle and paternal.

Fisayo Akinade - Remus Lupin

Secondly, I was thinking about Hagrid. And only one person came to mind for this role, I think they'd kill it. And I'd love to see Welsh Hagrid.

Ruth Jones - Rubeus Hagrid

Okay, so maybe I don't seriously think Ruth should or will be cast. But honestly she would be iconic.

Next is Peter Pettigew. Now arguably this actor is too young but I think he'd be perfect in this role.

Colson Smith - Peter Pettigrew

Julie Walters was perfect in her role as Mrs. Weasley and we need someone equally funny. This comedy actress is famed for being in the IT crowd and more recently BBC's Here We Go, and I think she'd be perfect.

Katherine Parksinson - Molly Weasley

For Aunt Petunia, the main description we have from the books is that she has an extremely long neck. Based on time lines she would also only be in her early 30s. The actress I'm suggesting isn't someone who immediately screamed Petunia to me but the more I thought about it the more I can see her injecting some great comedy into this role.

Jessica Knappet - Petunia Dursley

And that's it for now! If any other people come to mind I may make another post

[mysoftboybensolo]

"I don't care! I've told you a million times..." "And I've told you a million times, that I am too old for you, too poor, too dangerous...Tonks deserves someone young and whole." But she wants you. My Fancast: Freya Allan as Nymphadora Tonks Matthew Beard as Remus Lupin

[movfie]

Matthew Lewis, Alfred Enoch, Devon Murray and Jessie Cave playing Most likely at Dream It Convention

March 2024

[nerdreamer]

[therealfgirl]

Part 2 of my dream Harry Potter cast!

5. Blaise Zabini

I blame Pinterest for this as well

6. Pansy Parkinson and Theodore Nott

They resemble them so much, and I especially love Lorenzo Zurzolo so I just had to

7. Weasley twins

Honestly they did a great job and no one could replace them but maybe with better hair lol

8. Ginny Weasley

It's just gotta be Sadie Sink

[snowfizzle]

The reason that the new Harry Potter series feels like such a gut punch is because the OG actors put down their entire childhood and young adulthood to act in the movies, they gave up a decade of their life just for them to make a remake only 10 years later. Yes, a reboot would be cool but maybe in 10-20 years, not now.

Although it does give us a chance to be able to act in the new show, which is atleast my personal biggest dream.

[rosie-love98]

Snape’s Parents In The Movie:

Had the “Harry Potter” movies showed Snape’s parents in flashbacks, then I nominate Tilda Swinton as Eileen and Paul McCann/Ronan Vibert as Tobias. 

But, if the movies ever have Tobias and Eileen in the present, then I’m stuck on who should be the actors. Maybe Harrison Ford with Geraldine Chaplin/Angelica Houston...Don’t know who else...

[deeisace]

:/

[rosiethorns88]

Heyyy everyone! Dropping the latest Sketch-a-Wish, voted on by my lovely Patreon members for the month of December! Featuring Celia and Marco from The Night Circus @erinmorgenstern

My Patreon members have been getting a bit kiss-crazy with these SAWs. 😂 For this piece, I wanted to take my time to re-read The Night Circus over the holiday break to prep for this. It's been several years since I listened to it for the first time (back when I designed the Build Me Dreams papercraft) and I was really put off by the audiobook and the story comprehension suffered because of it. I love Jim Dale (who read the US audiobooks for Harry Potter), who has multiple but very distinct voices and accents. I kept getting distracted recognizing and comparing every Night Circus character to their HP counterpart which completely took me out of the story at times. Some of the characters were really goofy sounding, which works well for HP, but not for the ethereal cast of TNC.

I can wholeheartedly say that I much more enjoyed this white-noise re-read of TNC and was able to experience it without all the distractions. There were even several scenes I've pinned that I'm eager to illustrate / papercraft beyond the one chosen for this SAW. Please look forward to those!

This is arguably the most colorful scene in the book (everyone is wearing a bright variety of colors), the ballroom is gold and both Celia and Marco wear a deep green. A stark contrast to the book's signature black, white and red color scheme. I offered my Patreon members a handful of color keys to choose from and the one shown here won the most votes!

[agreeewrites]

A Madness Most Discreet | G.W.

feat. George Weasley x Malfoy!reader

summary: Draco's older sister arrives at Hogwarts for her final year of schooling, and sets her sights on a certain red-headed trickster.

cw: MDNI 18+, pov switching, making out and adult language, light angst (we're just getting started baby), pining, Malfoy family drama and blood prejudice, confident!reader

series navigation | part two | part three | masterlist | divider by @roseraris

Readers POV

No one knew what to expect when the Daily Prophet reported that you, the eldest child of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, would be attending Hogwarts for your final year of schooling.

You'd been homeschooled your entire life due to your father's protective nature, but with Draco being 16, he felt you'd have adequate enough protection. Not to mention, he had more pressing matters to attend to than your schooling.

You were beside yourself with excitement. Finally, you'd see the outside of the walls of Malfoy Manor. Finally, you'd get to be around people that weren't Death Eaters twice your age, or your little brother. You loved Draco, but come on. A girl's gotta eat.

Draco and Professor McGonagall led you through the ancient corridors to the Great Hall, every portraits eye trained on you. The newcomer, the subject of many whispered conversations that passed by them less than an hour prior. It seemed even the castle itself was buzzing about your arrival.

You wanted desperately to ride the train with Draco, but your father insisted you be transported separately to minimize the scene you’re appearance would cause.

But you were not one for subtlety.

“I’m begging you to not make a scene,” Draco hissed in your ear, his Slytherin robes brushing your calves. You weren’t sure when it happened, but at some point your little brother grew like a weed and now stood a head taller than you.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, D.” You looped your arm through his, leaning your head on his shoulder. You were lying through your teeth, and he knew it.

“Seriously, y/n. There’s enough attention on us already.”

“Salazar’s tits, Draco! Would you relax? Everything will be fine.” The three of you reached the door to the Great Hall, closed firmly and unbelievably high.You swore you heard McGonagall curse under her breath, and Draco’s arm tightened around yours.

It seemed a scene would be made after all, and you fought the smile threatening to curve your lips.

“Ready, Malfoys?” McGonagall asked, turning to look over you both. The look in her eyes, almost pitying, made you hold Draco's arm a bit tighter, smile faltering.

What are they so worried about?

“As we’ll ever be,” Draco sighed.

McGonagall pushed open the doors, revealing the massive dining hall. Every table was filled with students, piles and piles of food over every surface, and more travelling on levitating trays around the room. Candles floated from the ceiling, the night sky clear and shining with stars.

Every head swiveled towards you, and you watched Draco’s demeanor change instantly. Suddenly, he was no longer Draco, but Lucius, and your stomach curdled, souring your excitement over a grand entrance.

Draco pulled you even closer to his side, casting a warning sneer to every eye that lingered too long while you walked towards Albus Dumbledore on the dais.

Your eyes ping-ponged from student to student, taking in the people you’d spend the next eight months with. You fought to keep your face neutral, an elegant mask of in difference like you'd been taught, but your heart pounded with excitement in your chest.

What a thrill to finally be seen.

The Gryffindor table was on your right, the maroon-clad students sizing you up with open disdain, but even that couldn't dampen the thrill tingling under your skin.

You spotted Harry Potter towards the center of the impossibly long table, flanked by some red-headed boy, Weasley, you surmised, and the girl you immediately recognized as Granger. Or so Draco called her, faux venom on his tongue.

His eyes flicked to her as well, and you suppressed the snicker that bubbled on your tongue. Despite your sheltered upbringing, you knew infatuation when you saw it.

You looked back towards the group, all of their eyes trained on you. But, your gaze snagged on one of them in particular, skipping over his twin beside him. His eyes were different, molten amber and sweet like honey, his hair like phoenix feathers, lips slightly parted like he was staring at a Great Wonder, but instead he was staring at you. Your heart gave an excited flutter.

Oh, there you are, a voice in the back of your mind whispered.

George's POV

Of course, George had heard that the eldest Malfoy was joining their class. Everyone had heard about your arrival. And Lucius made a point of telling Arthur shortly after the decision was made, something about ‘Keep those trouble-making twins away from my daughter.’

But, when the doors opened to the Great Hall and you entered on Draco’s arm, George had been stunned silent anyways.

You were beautiful, unfairly so. Which of course you were, you’re a Malfoy for Merlin’s sake. And George found that he couldn’t look away.

As you walked towards Professor Dumbledore, you scanned the tables, a curious glint in your gaze betraying your disinterested expression. George watched your eyes skip over Dean, then Seamus, then Hermoine, Harry, Ron—until your eyes locked on his. The air was sucked from the room, his heart hammering like a cornered hare as your gaze inexplicably held his.

Even as you continued to walk by, your eyes remained locked together, your head turning just slightly. A smirk sharpened your angelic face, and George’s jaw went slack. But then Draco gave you a nudge and you turned forward, a slight skip in your step.

“—pretty fit, eh?” Fred muttered in his ear. “Oi, look at ‘im,” Fred snickered. “George? Geooooorgie?”

Ron snapped his fingers in front of his face and George jolted back to reality. “Merlin, mate. Earth to George.”

“Sorry, what’d ya’ say?” George asked, looking around at his friends. They all stared at him with a mix of amusement and abject horror.

“Said she’s pretty fit,” Fred chuckled, bumping his shoulder.

“She’s a Malfoy,” Hermoine scolded.

“Yeah, so by definition, she’s hot,” Seamus replied.

“Exactly—”

George tuned them out as you were lead up to the stage, the Sorting Hat waiting on a stool to your right. Dumbledore was speaking, but George tuned him out as well, too fixated on the arrogant slant of your smile, the mischief shining from your eyes.

You had trouble written all over you.

McGonagall lifted the Sorting Hat, placing it on your head, and it looked like you were speaking to it. He swore he saw you say 'Gryffindor'. Were you asking to hat to put in a house other than Slytherin?

From the agonized look on Draco's face, it seemed like maybe you were. What Malfoy didn't want to be in Slytherin?

“What is she saying to it?” Harry asked, leaning forward.

Finally, the hat gave a great laugh, rendering the hall silent. “What a mind you have, girl. Clever, cunning, mischievous—a troublesome combination indeed. Seems even a Malfoy can be more than they appear. But even still—” The room held it’s breath, and Draco looked like he might keel over from stress, even paler than usual. You crossed your fingers, eyes screwed shut like you were praying. “Slytherin!” The hat cried, and Draco exhaled, shaking his head at the dramatic pout on your face.

Saints, that pout. George wanted to sink his teeth into it.

“You think she’s going to be as bad as him?” Ginny asked, watching as Draco escorted you down the stairs and over to the roaring Slytherin table. People were throwing themselves out of their seats to make room for you, and you basked in the attention like a benevolent queen returned to her kingdom.

“Worse, probably,” George muttered, forcing himself to look away from you and back to his dinner. Suddenly, he found himself without an appetite.

Reader's POV

Your first three weeks at Hogwarts had been a whirlwind of introductions, lectures, and parties. The world was at your feet, the lower classman wanted to be you, your classmates wanted to fuck you, and everyone else was terrified of you. You never had to wait for a drink, or a meal, and someone was always willing to do your assignments for you, not that you needed it.

It seemed your education under your father far surpassed that of your peers, in certain subjects at least. You could out cast them all with ease, and were looking forward to when dueling would begin.

And, you seemed to see your tall, red-headed boy everywhere you went. You'd learned that his name was George, a Weasley, Draco had sneered when he caught you ogling his tall, lean frame by the lake one afternoon.

You knew how your family felt about families like the Weasley's, but despite your father's best efforts, you couldn't bring yourself to hate someone for something as trivial as what ran through their veins.

An opportunity to speak to George hadn't presented itself until you'd escaped to the library one evening. The attention you initially craved was starting to border on suffocating, and you wanted a few hours of quiet to yourself.

It was a lesson your mother had taught you. You can withstand anything so long as you hold onto yourself.

But when you entered the library and started pursuing the stacks for the Potions section, you found none other than George Weasley stretched out in a window seat, a book in his lap, his head lolled against the window as he snored.

You tiptoed closer, taking in the state of him. He was dressed in trousers and a white button down, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, his tie a little loose around his throat. His hair was messy, like he'd been running his fingers through it, and his socks were mismatched argyle.

You knew you shouldn't, but you found him extremely endearing, so soft-looking and cozy. Your fingers itched to straighten his tie, smooth his flaming hair.

Instead you lifted the book from his lap and read the cover. “Pyromancy and Magical Combustion: A Spellcaster’s Guide”

George stirred suddenly, his hands flexing around empty air.

You considered backing off and leaving him to rest, but where the fun in that?

“George,” you purred, but he didn't respond. “Geoooorge,” you tried again, poking him in the sternum. He turned his head, freckled nose scrunching. “George, darling. It's time to wake up.” You walked your fingers up his chest and tugged lightly on his red and gold tie.

“Hm?” He mumbled, brown lashes fluttering open to reveal his sleep-trodden, amber eyes. They locked on your face, widening for a second before he jolted upright. “Y/n? Merlin, where the fuck—”

“It’s alright, love,” you shushed him, using deft fingers to straighten his tie and fix his collar. “You're in the library, sleeping like an angel. Lucky it was me that found you and not Pince.” You glanced up at him, finding his jaw a little slack, his eyes round as he stared at you in shock.

You always were a little too bold for your own good. Reckless in the pursuit of what you wanted.

“I, uh, yeah. Lucky me.” He swiped a hand through his hair. “Sleeping like an angel, hm?” He asked, regaining some of that cheeky charm you’d witnessed from afar over the last few weeks. A trait that only piqued your interest further.

“You looked awfully sweet to me,” you said, batting your lashes.

“Said the rattlesnake to the kitten,” he said, a teasing lilt in his voice.

“Rattlesnake?” You scoffed, feigning hurt with a hand over your heart. “I don't bite!”

“I don't believe that for a second, Malfoy.” His eyes skimmed over your face, down to your lips.

You flashed said fangs, and he smiled back.

“Why are you in the library?” He asked, glancing over your shoulder. “Alone? I haven't seen you without Draco or one of his goons since you arrived.”

You rolled your eyes. Draco had assigned Theo Nott and Blaise Zabini to watch over you when he couldn't, and it took a concerted effort to evade them and come here. “Was getting a little tired of the entourage,” you admitted.

“A Malfoy? Tired of attention?” He tapped a finger on your forehead, featherlight. “I think you might be broken.”

“You're one to talk, Mr. Weasley. Where’s your twin? Recently severed, are we?”

He chuckled, the sound low and honey sweet. “Hufflepuff party.”

“And you didn't go, because…? You love pyromancy so much?” You held up the book, teasing him.

“Wasn't in the mood to socialize,” he said, shrugging a shoulder.

“Well, George, it seems we may have more in common than we realized.”

His eyes warmed. “Seems so.”

“Could you help me find the Potions section?” You asked, cocking a thumb over your shoulder. “Draco never gave me a tour…”

George popped up, revealing his full height and sending you back a step, and your mouth filled with a saliva. The top of your head barely skimmed his collar bone, his limbs long and lean.

He offered you his elbow. “Right this way, Ms. Malfoy.”

You rested your hand on his bicep, the burgeoning heat between you flaring brightly at even the smallest contact, and he lead you through the stacks.

He was warm and steady beside you, his cologne fresh and clean smelling, his muscles flexing slightly as he steered you. Butterflies stirred in your stomach, pleased that your instinct when you spotted him had been correct.

He was a delight. Handsome, sweet, clever. A loyal Gryffindor, the opposite of all the other pricks that threw themselves at you.

When you arrived at the clearly labeled Potions section, you turned to face him. “You’re in my Potions class, right? Are you any good?” You asked, wanting to delay his departure.

“Pretty good, yeah. Why? Need a tutor?” He quirked an eyebrow, his voice coming out a little too fast to be ready as anything but eager.

“If you've got the time.” You shrugged. “I wouldn't want to keep you.”

“Nonsense. I'm happy to be of service,” he said, winking at you, sending a fizz of desire pulsing through your blood.

George gathered the books you needed and led you to a secluded table at the back of the library, recognizing the risk of anyone seeing the two of you together, even doing something as simple as studying.

“So, what's the trouble with Potions?” He asked once you were settled in, books splayed around the table.

“My father didn't see the value in it, and it's not like we have a laboratory in the Manor,” you said, dipping your quill in your ink.

“So you were homeschooled your entire life?” George folded his arms against the table, leaning a bit closer. “Why?”

You shrugged, avoiding his gaze. “My father had his reasons.” It was a practiced answer, a safe one, and it tasted bitter on your tongue. “He thought it wasn't safe,” you added, wanting to assuage the guilty feeling.

“Not safe?” George scoffed. “Hogwarts is the safest place in the world.

“Depends on who your enemies are,” you said, finally meeting his eyes.

“And who are you enemies?” He asked, sitting back on his chair.

You brushed the soft tail of your quill over you lips, mulling over your response. “Well, George. I suppose you are.”

“That's a shame, here I thought I was just your Potions tutor.”

You snorted, caught off guard by his joking. “Should be fine, as long as we aren't friends,” you chuckled.

“Definitely not friends.” He smiled. “Now, the thing about Beezors…”

George's POV

George watched you pour over your notes, brow furrowed slightly in concentration, and you did that god-forsaken fucking thing with your quill again.

Dragged the feather over your lips with the barest touch, the movement unconscious, and it made his heart seize every single fucking time.

He could hardly believe he was sitting across from you, walking through the curriculum you needed for the first Potions exam in two weeks. You'd missed a lot being homeschooled, but we're clearly incredibly bright, and you picked everything up with ease that rivaled Hermione.

He'd been fascinated by you from the moment you walked into the Great Hall, and managed to snag his eye every time you entered a room there after. You occupied his mind too, so much so he was already behind in Charms, but he wasn't even quite ready to admit that to himself yet.

You were a Malfoy, after all. It didn't matter that you were interesting, or clever, or beautiful. You were a Malfoy. End of story.

He should get up and walk away right now.

What right did you have asking him for help? You had everything. And you were smart enough to do this on your own. You didn't need him. And he shouldn't want you.

Oh, Merlin. And he didn't want you….right?

He couldn't. He barely knew you beyond your reputation and the whispers he'd gathered in the halls, but it felt like he did. Like he's known you for ages, the quiet between you comfortable despite his racing thoughts.

But no, surely not. He didn't want you. Nope.

You dragged you quill against your lips again, sighing softly, and he nearly melted to the floor like a lit candle.

Fuck. He wanted you.

“George?” You called, waving a hand in front of his face, and he jolted back to the present. “Dozing off again?” You teased, voice sweet as treacle.

“No, was just, ah, trying to remember what we covered fourth year,” he said, rubbing the back of his head and hoping you didn't catch the flush in his cheeks.

But based on the twinkle in your eye, you certainly did.

“Maybe we can cover it tomorrow?” You asked, closing your book and setting down your quill. “I'm not sure I can absorb anything else tonight—” a soft yawn punctuated your words, sweet as a lamb, and George had to look away so he didn't memorize the exact shade of your tongue.

Definitely don't meet up with her tomorrow. “Yeah, same spot?” He asked, gathering his things as well.

“It's a date.” You winked, and flitted between the stacks, disappearing from his sight.

George slumped back onto his seat, scrubbing a hand over his face.

When he showed up ten minutes early to the library the following day, he'd never felt more pathetic in his life.

All day, he told himself he wasn't going to go. That he was going to leave you hanging and end this before it got started. Whatever this was.

He was betraying his family by sitting in this chair, guilt churning and acrid in his gut. They would be so disappointed him. He could already hear his mother in his mind: you're a spineless fool.

And it was the truth. He'd lied to Fred and Ron about what he was doing, and snuck past Hermione and Harry who were studying by the entrance. He was lying to and hiding from the people he loved most, all for a Malfoy.

He was about to get up from his seat when you came breezing around the corner, a cauldron in your arms. He continued to rise but instead of fleeing, he took the cauldron from you with a chastising tsk.

“Stealing from Snape, are we, rattlesnake?” He set the cauldron on the table, turning back to you.

“I didn't steal it!” You argued.

He raised an eyebrow, an amused smirk lifting the corner of his mouth.

“I'm going to bring it back later.” You rolled your eyes and dumped your bag onto the table, potions and herbs rolling out. “How else am I supposed to learn about potions?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Merlin, you were adorable. Pink cheeked from carrying everything, your hair windswept, eyes shining with that rebellious light. He was helpless, drawn to it like a moth.

“Just don't blow my eyebrows off,” he grumbled.

“No promises,” you teased back.

The two of you toiled the rest of the evening away over the cauldron, successfully making two of the four potions Snape had covered this semester.

You stood shoulder to shoulder over the bubbling green liquid, and he glanced down at you, at the victorious little grin on your face, and he felt his insides twist.

He reached to grab a bundle of herbs on your right, and you turned to grab an ingredient on his left, and your bodies bumped together in the middle, faces nearly colliding.

“S-shit, sorry,” he said, pretending he couldn't smell the expensive perfume on your skin. Like it wasn't rotting his brain from the inside out.

“Sorry for what?” You asked, leaning the rest of the way to get your ingredient, apparently completely unbothered by your chest pressed up against his, your face brushing his shoulder.

“Uh, I—”

“So tense, Georgie,” you murmured, reaching a hand up to squeeze at his flexed bicep. “I don't bite, remember?”

Every scrap of attention zeroed in on your hand touching his arm, his heart thundering in his chest. Georgie. The nickname rattled around in his empty mind. Georgie. Georgie. Georgie.

“I'll try,” he rasped, clearing his throat.

An hour later and you finished the third Potion, the sun long ago set over the horizon. It wouldn't be long before Pince came looking for stragglers, and you'd be booted from the library.

George glanced over at you, your cheek propped against your palm, lashes fluttering as your lids slid closed. Something warm bloomed in his chest watching you doze, peaceful and untroubled, trusting him enough to let your guard down so completely.

As quietly as he could, he picked up his things and yours, and discarded the potion. Carefully, he tucked the cauldron behind one of the the shelves for your next study session so you wouldn't have to lug it back and forth, vowing to take the fall if Snape caught on.

“Rattlesnake,” he cooed, nudging your shoulder. “C’mon, we gotta get out of here.”

You groaned, nose wrinkling before you blinked open your eyes at him. A sleepy smile stretched across your face, and his knees turned to jelly. He wanted to kiss you so badly it stole his breath.

“Sorry, Georgie,” you mumbled, covering your mouth when you yawned.

“All good, love,” he replied, handing you your things. Shit, he cursed himself. Love had just rolled off his tongue, easy as breathing.

But you only smiled at him, slinging your bag over your shoulder and getting to your feet. “Thanks for your help,” you said. “Do you think you'll have time to meet next week?”

Quidditch matches started next week, eating into the little bit of free time he had. But he'd figure it out.

“Could probably meet Monday after practice, if you'd like,” he said, shouldering his own bag.

“Monday would be great.” You rose up onto your toes to peck his cheek. “See you then!” You tossed over your shoulder as you walked away, leaving him a flustered mess.

He rubbed his hand over his cheek, the place your lips brushed his skin still tingling, and sighed. How could he stay away from you? Why should he? Because of your last name?

It was the Malfoy’s job to be stuck up and judgemental, not his. And you seemed to be nothing like them…

Then, something occured to him. A thought so upsetting it punched the air out of his chest and he dropped back down onto his chair.

What if this was a trick?

What if this was a way for the Malfoy's to get close to his family? To get them to let their guards down? What if you were just a beautiful Trojan Horse?

He shook his head, trying to shake the dark thoughts loose. You couldn't be, not with those bright eyes and rebellious smile. He couldn't imagine you being so cruel. But then again…you were a Malfoy.

How could he know for sure?

He left the library with his head hung low, doubts swirling in his mind like a storm, making his stomach churn, but one stood clearer than the rest. Disruptive as a strike of lightning.

Was it worth the risk?

Reader's POV

Your connection with George deepened over those few study sessions, and it seemed he was just as into you as you were him. From the knocked together knees, to his fingers brushing against yours when he passed over an ingredient or book, to his eyes lingering on you over the cauldron, the signs were plentiful.

But Monday night, he'd been different.

He was acting strange the entire study session, watching you closely, giving clipped, one or two word answers. His shoulders seemed almost heavy, burdened.

At first, you chalked it up to him being tired after practice, but instinctively, you knew it had something to do with you.

Unable to bear it any longer, you turned to him after shelving your books. “Is something wrong, George?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

He froze in place, refusing to meet your eyes. Then, something seemed to give way in his expression, a loaded sigh loosing from his chest. “I'm not sure we should keep doing this,” he admitted, sounding almost pained. “Your family would have a conniption, as would mine.”

You let your arms fall to your sides. It was only a matter of time before this came up, you supposed. But, you were prepared for it. “And?” You asked, risking a step closer. “I'm not sure about you…” you placed a hand on his chest, feeling his heart race, his muscles tense under your touch. But he didn't pull away. “But I make my own decisions.”

He placed his hand over yours. “You could have anyone you want. So, why me? What's in it for you?”

You recoiled slightly, removing your hand from him and taking a step back. “You think I have some ulterior motive.” It wasn't a question, nor was it a shock. Everyone always assumed you did everything with malicious intent. You just thought maybe George saw you differently.

George's eyes softened, sensing your hurt, but he didn't back away from his claim. “I think your father has it out for my little brother and his best friends, and I won't put them in danger just because I want to kiss a girl.”

Your heart gave a jilted pang, confusion making your brows furrow. You knew he was being completely honest. He wanted to kiss you, but he was afraid of what the consequences might be. Consequences you hadn't even really considered.

George had every reason to be skeptical of you. But your only ulterior motive was getting closer to him, and maybe getting under your father's skin a little should he ever find out.

“I don't have an ulterior motive, George. Nor do I take orders from anyone, least of all my father. I have no ill will towards your family, and I'm sorry that mine has treated you all so poorly.”

He was quiet for a moment. “Swear it,” he said, holding up his pinky.

You wrapped your pinky around his. “I swear.”

His eyes searched your face and you saw the moment he decided he trusted you, eyes melting like honey. "I trust you, rattlesnake." A smirk broke through his serious expression. “Am I going to regret it?”

Relief ballooned in your chest. “In the best way,” you purred, bringing his pinky up your lips and brushing a kiss across his knuckle.

His pupils dilated, breath hitching in his chest. Then you were moving, his body pressing you backwards against the bookshelf, dropping your pinky to brace your hips with both hands.

“You're awfully confident,” he whispered in your ear, making your stomach flutter with anticipation.

You hadn't felt this excited in far too long, his touch, his voice as tempting as the finest wine.

“Are you going to find out why? Or keep prattling on?”

With a final exhale, he crashed his mouth to yours, his lips supple and insistent, your toes instantly curling in your shoes. You opened up for him and he licked into your mouth with firm strokes, deliberate and claiming. He tasted like lemon drops and black tea, and you were desperate for more of it.

Every other kiss you'd had felt lifeless and disappointing, empty and wet in the worst way. But this, the fervid caress of his searching tongue, felt like wildfire: burning, consuming, ravenous.

“George,” you gasped when his lips traveled down your neck, the tip of his nose a cold contrast to the heat of his mouth.

He nipped at your pulse, sucking the skin between his teeth to leave a mark.

“George!” You giggled, pulling on his hair to stop him.

“Y/n,” he hummed, smiling at you. His lips were puffy and slicked with spit, his eyes sparkling.

Two could play at that game.

You leaned forward, licking a long stripe from the hollow of his throat, over his Adams apple, to the underside of his chin.

“Shit.” His hands tightened on your waist, his head falling back to give you more access. You bit down, laving your tongue over his fevered skin, and his let out a low groan. “You little liar,” he gruffed, one of his hands coming up to tangle in your hair. “You do bite.”

You giggled, lapping at the light purple mark you left behind. “I'm not sorry.”

He tipped your head back and reconnected your lips, teasing and light. “You have no reason to be. Bite me all you like, rattlesnake,” he murmured between unhurried pecks.

“Careful what you ask for.” You caught his lower lip between your teeth and tugged gently, earning another groan, before kissing him a final time, soft and lingering.

Hearing the distant chime of the bell tower, you finally broke apart. Curfew. Pince would be around any second.

You brushed your nose against his. “I have to get back to the common room,” you sighed.

“’Course. Wouldn't dream of keeping you from your beauty sleep.” He brought your knuckles to his lips, kissing them lightly. “See you at the match tomorrow?”

You nodded, pulling your still tingling lower lip between your teeth. “Absolutely. I’ll be in green.”

“Ouch,” he chuckled, pretending to wince. “I'll have you in red soon enough.” He released your hand and walked backwards out of the aisle, his eyes trained on you until he was forced to turn the corner, his hand sticking out to wave a final goodbye as he disappeared.

You placed a hand over your thundering heart, a little stunned by your bodies intense reaction him.

What in Salazar's name has you gotten yourself into?

George's POV

George left the library achingly hard and shook to his core, the blood that hadn't traveled south roaring in his ears.

That was the singularly most earth-shattering kiss of his life. And it was with the absolute last person he should be kissing.

George wasn't the type to get physical so quickly after meeting someone, but you were irresistible. And seemed to want him as badly as he wanted you, a fact he struggled to get his head around.

And even though he knew he should, he couldn't bring himself to regret a second of it. In fact, he was already anxiously awaiting the match tomorrow, debating whether or not he could squeeze in some extra practice at dawn while he walked back to his dorm.

As soon as he opened the door, he found his brother, Ron, Harry, Seamus, and Neville sitting up in their beds, and stopped short.

“Hey George!” Harry called, waving.

“What’s the matter with you?” Fred asked, clocking his trepidation immediately.

George had to fight to urge to clap a hand over the mark you’d left on his neck. Would they smell your perfume on his skin?

“Nothing? Why?” He asked, heading towards his trunk.

Fred eyed him suspiciously. “Where have you been?”

“Library,” George answered, a little too quick.

Fred studied him a moment longer, then snapped his fingers, a huge grin on his face. “You were with a girl!”

The rest of the boys oooooh’d, and George felt his cheeks heat.

“Yeah, right. You know me, drowning in babes,” he argued, throwing a towel and his pajamas over his shoulder. “I'm going to take a shower.”

“Ah, so just a snog, then?” Seamus teased.

George flipped them off and left for the showers, praying they forget about it by the time he got back.

Reader's POV

“Where the fuck have you been?” Draco snapped, rounding on you as soon as you stepped back into the Slytherin common room.

“Places,” you reply, kissing his cheek before strolling by.

He caught your wrist, tugging you back to him. “Y/n…”

“Draco…” You rolled your eyes. “I was in the library, relax.” You pull away from him and walk towards the girls dormitory, Draco on your heels.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time there,” he accused, an edge of suspicion in his voice. “I would have gone with you, or Blaise or Pansy—”

“I wanted to go alone,” you snapped, stopping so suddenly he bumped into you. A hush fell over the common room. “I don't need a fucking body guard, Draco. You need to back off.”

Draco's nostrils flared, his eyes narrowing. “Stop it,” he hissed. “We can talk about this in private.”

“Why? Is your ‘bad guy' reputation so fragile?”

His jaw flexed, and you could tell your words stung, hurt flickering across his eyes.

You sighed. “D, I can take care of myself,” you murmured.

“But if something happened to you…” his voice softened, trailing off.

“Let me have this,” you asked, taking his hand in both of yours. “Please. I've never had any freedom.”

He squeezed your hands. “I know, I know. Just…let me know where you are, at least? Don't just keep disappearing—what is that?” His eyes hardened, lowering to your neck.

You fought to hold your composure. “What? Oh, the burn? I bumped it with my curling iron this afternoon.” You grazed your fingers over the mark George had left, a flurry of butterflies kicking up in your stomach.

Draco dropped your hand, and guilt soured your fuzzy feelings.

“Who is it?” He growled.

“Draco—”

“You think I can't tell when you're lying?” He grabbed you and lead you into a quieter part of the common room, shadowed from onlookers. “Who was it, y/n?”

You glared daggers at him, squaring your shoulders. “I suggest you mind your own business, or we will have a fucking problem. I will not hesitate to dismantle every brick of this bullshit castle you've built. Clear?”

His jaw ticked, eyes blazing. “This is not a fucking game,” he said after a tense moment of silence.

“Just trust me, okay? I’m fine. We’re fine. Not everything is life and death.”

“Y/n, you aren't listening—”

“No, you aren't listening. We're safe here. And I have my brother to protect me from anything scary, yeah?” You reached up to pinch his cheek, and he scowled, swatting your hand away.

“I can't protect you if I don't know where you are,” he argued.

You sighed. “I'll try and tell you from now on, okay? But you can't be with me 24/7. You need to have a little faith in me.”

“It's not you that I doubt,” he grumbled, but you could tell that you'd won this round.

“Goodnight, Draco. And don't stay up too late, you've got a game tomorrow.” You poked him hard in the chest, and he rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. Goodnight, sister.” He waved you off and you ascended the stairs to the girls dorm, leaving him to his friends, and you to toss and turn in your bed, dreaming of George.

Thank you for reading!

If you'd like to be included in the taglist, comment below!

taglist: @pxige1234, @simars3, @jaybbygrl, @irlpokemonsworld, @just-some-random-blogger

© agreeeeeeeeeee 2025. do not copy, translate or claim my writing as your own.

[ahqkas]

Hello! I love your writings and I hope you are doing well <3 I would like to request Theo fluff on where reader has terrible time sleeping because she is use to having her teddy bear in her arms ever since she was a child. Like she thrown her teddy away because she was scared she would be make fun of. So she seeks Theodore so he in be in her arms. It’s just sweet fluff as Theodore smiles lovingly at her 🥺

-😴

TEDDY PICKER ; theodore nott

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST!

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

YOU TOSSED AND TURNED IN YOUR BED, THE SILENCE OF YOUR DORMITORY ONLY AMPLIFYING THE RESTLESSNESS YOU FELT. You had tried everything — counting stars, breathing exercises, even reading the most mundane passages from your textbooks — but nothing worked. The familiar comfort of your teddy bear was absent, a void you had created out of fear of ridicule.

Frustration mounting, you finally sat up, the moonlight casting a gentle glow through the window into your room. You couldn’t shake the feeling of emptiness in your arms, the comforting weight of your childhood companion gone. With a sigh, you threw back the covers and slipped out of bed, your bare feet silent on the cold floor. There was only one place you could think of, one person you felt drawn to in your moment of need. Your beloved lover.

Quietly, you made your way through the darkened corridors, your heart pounding with both nerves and a strange sense of hope. You found yourself at the entrance to the Slytherin common room, hesitating only for a moment before whispering the password Theo had once shared with you in a moment of trust.

The room was dimly lit, a few embers glowing softly in the fireplace warmly. You navigated the shadows, your eyes adjusting to the darkness, and made your way to the boys’ dormitory. Standing outside Theo’s door, you took a deep breath before gently knocking on the wood.

A few moments passed before the door creaked open, revealing Theo’s sleepy yet alert form. His silver eyes softened with recognition and concern when he saw you so unexpectedly late at his door. “[Name]? What’s wrong?”

You felt a rush of embarrassment flood you, but the need for comfort outweighed the pride you held. “I . . . I can’t sleep. I know it sounds silly, but I used to sleep with a teddy bear. I got rid of it because I was afraid people would laugh at me, and now I can’t sleep without something to hold. I didn’t know where else to go.”

Theo’s expression softened further, a tender smile curving his lips. He reached out, gently pulling you into the room and closing the door behind you. The room was empty of the other boys, just with the two of you inside. “It’s not silly at all,” he murmured, guiding you towards his bed. “We all need something to comfort us.”

The Slytherin boy settled onto the bed and opened his arms, offering you the warmth and safety you so desperately craved. And with a grateful smile, you climbed in beside him, resting your head against his chest soundly. His arms encircled your form, pulling you close, and you immediately felt a wave of calm wash over you.

Theo’s fingers traced soothing patterns on your back, his breath warm against your hair. “You’re safe here,” he whispered and his voice sounded like a gentle lullaby. “I’ve got you.”

You nestled deeper into his embrace, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulling you into a sense of peace. The comfort of his presence filled the void left by your teddy bear, the warmth of his body easing the tension from your aching muscles.

And as sleep began to claim you, you felt Theo press a soft kiss to the top of your head, his sweet smile evident in the tenderness of the gesture. “Sweet dreams, bella,” he murmured, his voice filled with a quiet, unwavering affection he held for you.

In Theo’s arms, you found the solace you had been searching for, the comfort that only he could provide. And as you drifted off to sleep, you knew that this was where you belonged — safe, cherished, and wrapped in the loving embrace of the boy who had become your anchor in the night.

[aethon-recs]

30 Tomarrymort Recs for 2024 — One-Shot Edition (Part 2)

2024 recs continued! Here's a round-up of some of the most compelling one-shots that I came across in 2024 that I hope showcases the diversity of talent in our ship across a broad range of tropes and themes and ratings 🤍

Criteria for this list: one-shot, complete, published in 2024. Can be read in 1 sitting. Overall for 2024, I've split up the year-end recs into 3 parts: (1) Completed Multi-Chapter Fics, (2) One-Shots, (3) WIPs. Here’s the link back to Part 1: Completed Multi-Chapter Fics. 

The 3rd and last part of this list (WIPs/Longfics updated in 2024) will be posted soon. Happy reading!

*

A Moment of Curiosity (or Weakness) by koel7 (E, 6k, complete)

“I’m having these dreams,” Harry says. “You’re in every one of them. I think you’ve been in them for a long time, I just didn’t know it was you.” Tom inclines his head, and Harry sees the red eyes. He sees deathly, pale skin, and a flash of green light. “Do you remember?”

a pale horse by @ictyn (E, 7k, complete)

Harry, a penniless orphan, struggles to survive under the superstitious judgement of his isolated puritan community. One day, a vile omen is left before the church, an omen which portends only doom. The elders choose to cast Harry out, sending him as a sacrifice to a crumbling castle. The Dark Lord waits within, ravenous for the taste of his blood and the sweetness of his soul.

A Prank Unlike Any Other by A_Single_Cactus (E, 2k, complete)

It was April Fools’ Day. Harry decides to prank Riddle by acting differently. He decides to act nice. It doesn’t go as planned.

Adhesion by @telelli-writes (T, 5k, complete)

Overachieving sixth-year prefect Tom Riddle is on the fast track to be Head Boy next year, a Department Head by thirty, and Minister for Magic by forty. Harry Potter, Quidditch star and the most popular boy in school, doesn't factor anywhere into those plans or Tom's life. Until Professor Slughorn pairs the two of them together on a Potions project.

bad guy by @circleofplanets (M, 5k, complete)

Considered the power couple of Hogwarts, Tom Marvolo Riddle and Harry James Potter have been the topic of interest ever since they got together. A series of interviews getting close and personal with their friends and their outsider perspective on the famed couple.

Blood of the Covenant by @solelyseeking (E, 10k, complete)

Perhaps more than Parseltongue ran through Tom's veins. The Gaunts carried a hunger in their blood- not just for power, as is their right- but for each other. Tom thinks of the way their legacy had dripped from Harry's tongue, later that night, as his wrist works beneath the covers. He feels no shame for his urges. Tradition is sacred, after all. And Tom had always wanted a family.

Consume by @known-concepts (E, 4k, complete)

Something goes awry during Voldemort's resurrection, the balances of life and death are upset, and there is only one way to fix it.

cult classic by @aitafrog (G, 3k, complete)

For his whole life, Harry’s been looking forward to leaving behind the Dursleys and making his own fresh start. He’d envisioned endless opportunities ahead of him, with countless ways of reinventing himself. But for all of his daydreams and plans, he never quite imagined his fresh start involving the infamous cult leader Tom Riddle.

Customer Service by lilacscented (T, 6k, complete)

Furious at Borgin & Burkes’ blatant false advertising and shoddy customer service, Harry spends his Christmas Eve on a quest for Justice. Tom, meanwhile, is just punching the clock for some holiday pay. Both of them end up getting more than they bargained for.

deadbolt by @duplicitywrites (E, 8k, complete)

Tom is stunning at sixteen. He has always been an exception in a sea of mediocrity, a chameleon of sorts, conducting himself with the arrogance of genius astride the pity of orphanhood. Each facet of Tom Riddle is a domino on the path of Voldemort; it is up to you to divert them. Or: Harry goes back in time again, and again, and again.

don't blame the stork by @theonceandfuturequeenoftarts (T, 10k, complete)

Harry feels a little adrift after the war, so Magic decides he needs a baby, Magical Britain decides he needs to be Minister, and Voldemort decides he needs some company.

Eternal Hunt by @metalomagnetic (E, 3k, complete)

Harry wants to be good. Tom wants Harry.

Fearsome Thing by @0p4l3sc3nc3 (NR, 13k, complete)

It was him. The angel. "P-pleased to meet you," Tom murmured, and then cursed his tongue for the stutter, and his throat for the raspy tone of his voice, and his heart for being a traitor. And the angel—Harry, he had to remember that name now, it was of utmost importance—smiled at him. "The pleasure is mine.”

Heartbeats by @cyandenial (T, 10k, complete)

Harry Potter, a medical student, volunteered to help in St Mungo's hospital for the summer, to gain extra credits and some practical experience. He was assigned to look over one old man, a task no one wanted, because Tom Riddle wasn’t making it easy for anyone. His horrible attitude brought about every nurse to tears, and Harry was determined not be among those who cried. To everyone's surprise, he managed somehow… Until he didn't.

his love life and death by @noctelier (T, 5k, complete)

Tom Riddle doesn’t get sick. His immune system, just like the rest of him, is extraordinary. Incomparable. No one would dare suggest otherwise. Which is why everyone goes silent when he starts to cough. Or: Tom contracts Hanahaki Disease, knows what he must do about it, and decides he’s better than all that (until he doesn’t).

Ho, Ho, Ho by @moontearpensfic (E, 3k, complete)

Tom's parents take him shopping at the mall, where he scopes out snake paraphernalia and a Santa Claus with pretty green eyes.

if the moon should ever doubt by @fericide (M, 6k, complete)

They meet in the Astronomy Tower.

Mistletoe Managed by @tommarvoloriddlesdiary (T, 3k, complete)

“What’s so bad about magical mistletoe?” Harry asks. Hermione sighs, “Well, magical mistletoe won’t let a person go until they share a heartfelt kiss... So he'll be there a while.”

O Come, All Ye Faithful by @shyinsunlight (E, 3k, complete)

The sanctity of midnight mass requires dignity, composure, and absolutely not dropping the thurible when Harry fucking Potter walks in fifteen minutes late. Harry, who hasn’t darkened the church door since last Easter, and who’s apparently decided Christmas Eve is the perfect time to make his triumphant return to worship.

paint your eyes with sunsets by @boyneptunee (T, 5k, complete)

Tom moves to a new apartment building where he more or less gets himself a boyfriend and a family. Oh, and there's also a cat.

Resonating Souls by @endlessburningdarkness (E, 4k, complete)

Minister Riddle has an unusually dream filled night.

Roughly 19 Years Later by @dividawrites (E, 2k, complete)

Platform 9¾ is a nice place for reunions.

seven by lilacscented (T, 7k, complete)

Harry meets Tom Riddle on the first day of school. He has just turned seven. “So you’re like me,” he says, a statement, not a question. “Meet me in the woods later this afternoon.”

Soil by @ratzeebatz (T, 11k, complete)

The thing about Tom, and many people were aware of this, is that he had a combination of traits that made him both dangerous and infinitely appealing to anyone that spoke to him.  Or: Tom Riddle is a murderous herbologist, and Harry smells better than anything he's smelled before.

stumbling into wonderful by @satflesk22 (E, 5k, complete)

The Ministry sees fit to meddle at Hogwarts in an attempt at curtailing rising pureblood sentiments, to try and lure prospective recruits away from the Dark Lord Nott. Unsurprisingly, the Heir of Slytherin is stuck together in a room with the Chosen One. The worst part is that it bloody works.

The Betrayal (and Boon) of One's Own Biology by @riverxsong-ao3 (E, 7k, complete)

Tom Riddle had always known he was destined for greatness. As a young wizard, he was certain he would present one day as an Alpha - strong, powerful, in charge. When he did not, he came to accept that he must, in fact, be a Beta. Then, one day, everything changed.

The Descent by @chaos-bear (E, 5k, complete)

Secrets, grief and blood magic collide in the depths of the Austrian Alps.

The Good Knight by @mosiva (E, 9k, complete)

Harry and Tom drifted apart at Hogwarts, and Harry hasn’t seen Tom in years as she’s off travelling the world. But Harry doesn’t have time to be sad about it. She’s got problems closer to home – like helping the Order of the Phoenix to combat the recent rise of one Lord Voldemort.

the thing lay dead by @duplicitywrites (E, 7k, complete)

In the end, there was one body that all refused to touch. It unnerved people to see even the corpse. Harry tended to him, this man made mortal. Smooth, alabaster skin and thin, brittle bones. Peaceful in death as he had never been in life. No longer a monster. Now a body, just like everyone else.

this is my persona, secret lover (he's my collar) by souliloquium (M, 3k, complete)

Some things are the same, some things are different. Harry is not the Boy Who Lived. He still finds the locket. And Tom finds him.

We Bow to Each Other, Harry by @liquidluckandstuff (T, 4k, complete)

Harry falls asleep with the Horcrux around his neck and has a very strange dream.

When the Weight is Gone by @marrythemonstersao3 (M, 7k, complete)

In the quiet after the war is over, Harry feels the empty space in his soul like a missing limb. Eventually, his grief and longing come to a head when Death offers him a choice: to move on for good, or go back and do it over again.

*

[m00nkissedlover]

Hi! Can you write a Regulus and fem potter! reader raises four year old harry after his parents are killed?

・｡Little Rabbit 🐰

You've ordered: vanilla ice cream! enjoy!

"I'll be the only dream you seek."

post Hogwarts! Regulus Black x fem! Potter! reader | word count: 925 words

Summary: after your four year old nephew comes to you for comfort after a nightmare, regulus questions whether he's still capable of being a father.🐰

Warnings: not really a warning, but reader is james's sister. in this, regulus doesn't become a death eater. no real warnings, basically just domestic fluff!

Note: hi anon! tysm for this request, it was really fun to write! ☺️ i hope i did your request justice and i hope you like this short little drabble :)

The feeling of tiny hands shaking your shoulder broke you out of your dreamlike trace of sleep at what seemed like...5:00 am. You rubbed your eyes, turning on the lamp on your bedside table, your vision slowly adjusting to the dim light and making out the small figure on your bed.

"Harry? Sweetie, what's wrong?" you murmured, your voice groggy with sleep. Harry, your four year old nephew, sat at the edge of your bed. He was clutching a stuffed rabbit plush you had bought him, his bright green eyes wet with tears, a bit of snot dripping from his nose.

"I-I had a nightmare..." the poor boy sobbed, clutching the rabbit closer to his chest. You felt a pang of sadness through your heart, grabbing a tissue from your bedside table and holding it to him nose. He blew his nose into it, sniffling as you wiped his tears with another one.

"Can I sleep with you two tonight?" You obviously couldn't say no, your heart going out to the four year old. It had been 4 years now since he lost his parents and was put under you and Regulus's care. Speaking of Regulus...just where was he?

Oh, that's right, he was sleeping next to you, groggily blinking his eyes as the sound of Harry's sobbing woke him.

"Hey, what happened?" he asked, his voice a little gruff. He scooted over to sit next to you, watching as you pulled Harry into your lap.

"He had a nightmare again." you muttered, holding the small boy to your chest and gently stroking his hair. "Aw, no. Want me to do the thing, bub?" Regulus asked, playfully poking Harry's cheek.

The little boy giggled softly, sniffling and nodding his head. Regulus got out of bed and padded over to the closet, rummaging through it and pulling out his wand. He closed his eyes for a moment, walking back over to the bed and taking Harry's rabbit plush. He set it down on the bed, raising his wand and muttering a spell he'd used countless times before.

Upon casting the spell, the little rabbit plush seemed to come to life, lifting its head and wiggling its ears. Regulus pointed to Harry, the rabbit facing the little boy before it started to do a silly little dance.

"Look, Harry! He's doing a different one this time." you hummed, Harry's crying subsiding. He clapped his tiny hands, a laugh that could put a smile on anyone's face leaving him. Regulus waved his wand once again and the rabbit plush walked up you Harry, crawling up his body and giving him a hug, its face in the crook of his neck.

"Aw, how sweet." you sighed, glancing from the heartwarming scene to your husband who was making his way back into bed. "Feeling better, Harry?" Regulus asked, Harry nodding his head a squeezing the rabbit.

"Thank you, papa Regulus." Regulus felt a surge of warmth run through him at the sound of Harry calling him "papa." He leaned over and pressed a kiss to the boy's cheek, ruffling his hair.

"You're welcome, bud. Now come on. It's time to get some sleep."

Harry was now curled up between the two of you, rabbit plush clutched to his chest. He looked so peaceful as he slept, like he didn't have a care in the world (which he probably didn't). You gently caressed his cheek, glancing over at Regulus who seemed to still be hung up on Harry calling him "papa."

You reached out and squeezed his hand, his attention now turning to you. "James...He would be beyond proud of you for stepping up and taking care of his son. I swear on Merlin's name that James and Lily are smiling down on you right now."

Regulus let out a sigh, squeezing your hand in return. "I know, I just...I don't want it to look like I'm trying to replace him, you know? He was a really great friend and an amazing person, I-"

You cut Regulus off by leaning over and pressing a kiss to lips, just a small one. The two of you carefully moved and got out of bed as to not disturb Harry as he slept. You walked out into the hallway of your cozy cottage, cupping Regulus's face in your hands. "Reg, no one thinks you're replacing James. Just think about it; if we had a child and something, god forbid, happened to us, do you think James and Lily would do the same for us? Absolutely, in a heartbeat." you said, resting your forehead against his.

"He loved you, Reg. He probably trusted you more than any of the others. I know that if he could, he could tell you take care of Harry." Your words stirred something within Regulus, the dark haired male's eyes getting watery.

You wrapped your arms around him, his own arms immediately returning the hug. "He'd think I'm a good father to his son?" you heard him mumble, his voice cracking a bit.

"He'd think you're a wonderful father to his son." you reassured him, rubbing his back and stroking his hair.

After a while, you two made your way back into the bedroom, getting into bed and laying back. You pressed a soft kiss to Harry's head, Regulus doing the same before giving you a quick kiss.

"Good night." he whispered, intertwining your fingers underneath the duvet.

"Good night." You squeezed his hand back, smiling to yourself as your head hit your pillow and sleep finally took over.🐰

© m00nkissedlover, 2025

[movfie]

Alfred Enoch throwback of him arriving at Enter The Wizarding World in Paris

March 2024

[lucentloo]

Beautiful Boy

Summary: You find James singing Harry back to sleep in the middle of the night and James apologizes for how he's been acting.

Wc: 1302

Content Warnings: Lily died, sorry folks, sad James for the tiniest bit, some swearing at the end, after the war, kissing, cuddling, apologies, making up, no real argument but implied argument, important question: Waffles or Pancakes? I think that's it, please tell me if I should put other warnings.

James Potter x Fem!reader

A/N: Good morning/night! Thank you for stopping to read this fic! This is the sixth one that I've written and I'm gonna be so honest when I say that I did not think I would be spouting this many but so far I've posted a fic every day! Anyway! I hope you enjoy and have a good rest of your day/night!

The sharp, lingering chill that seeps into your bones is the first sensation to wash over you as you rouse from sleep. Even though the blankets cocoon you in a snug embrace, a cold draft slips in, leaving your skin prickled and yearning for warmth. As your mind awakes fully, the unsettling absence of your husband, James, becomes apparent. You stretch your hand out towards his side of the bed, fingers brushing against the empty sheets, cold and untouched.

With a faint groan, you pry your eyes open, squinting at the harsh beam of light that spills in from the hallway, casting a bright glare across the dimly lit room. Rolling over, you glance at the alarm clock perched on the bedside table, its numbers illuminating the darkness. Two in the morning. 

A resigned sigh escapes your lips as you rub the sleep from your eyes, shaking off the remnants of dreams. Maybe James had been tormented by nightmares of that fateful Halloween night, or perhaps Sirius had sought refuge here again after yet another explosive quarrel with Remus. Rebuilding relationships in the wake of war is no simple task, and you and James have learned that all too well.

Reluctantly, you peel back the heavy blankets and swing your legs over the side of the bed, feeling the cool floor beneath your feet. Your gaze falls upon James' sweater draped over the chair—a cozy, familiar garment that you had insisted he wash before sleep claimed him. A soft chuckle escapes you as you slip it over your head, welcoming its warmth while allowing yourself a moment of nostalgia for simpler times.

You quietly creep out of the dimly lit hallway that leads to your and James’ room, the floorboards creaking softly beneath your feet. As you start to make your way downstairs, a beautiful melody wafts through the air, pulling you to a halt. You slowly turn around an irresistible urge guiding your feet toward Harry’s room. With each step, the tender sounds of singing grow louder, enchanting and soothing against the backdrop of the night.

Peeking through the slightly ajar door, you catch a heartwarming sight: James sits in the old rocking chair that once belonged to his mother, cradling Harry against his chest. Harry clutches his thumb in his mouth, his tiny cheeks glistening with remnants of tears that are gradually drying into faint trails of glimmering moisture. You lean against the doorframe, a soft smile blooming on your lips, your heart swelling at this serene moment.

“The monster’s gone, he’s on the run, and your Daddy’s here,” James sings in a gentle, raspy voice, the exhaustion of sleep still clinging to him. The enchantment of his lullaby lulls Harry, whose eyelids flutter and finally close in sweet surrender to slumber. You tiptoe into the room, scanning the cluttered space around you for Harry’s soother. As you find it tucked behind a plush toy, James looks up at you with a quiet, warm smile, his eyes sparkling with love and relief. 

Kneeling beside them, you plant a soft kiss on James’ forehead before gently placing the soother in Harry’s mouth, replacing his thumb with a tender precision. “Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful boy,” James concludes the song, his voice trailing off as Harry drifts blissfully into dreamland. 

With careful hands, you lift Harry, allowing James a moment more to rest in the chair, undoubtedly more fatigued than you. You place him gently into his crib, tucking him in snugly to ensure his pajamas are fully on—after all, there was that one morning when you awoke to find him almost choked by his sleeves, twisted and tangled in his sleep.

Glancing back, you lean down and kiss Harry’s soft cheek before you feel the familiar warmth of arms wrapping around your waist. You straighten up, turning to find James right in front of you, his face buried in your shoulder as he exhales a shuddering breath. You run your fingers through his tousled hair, feeling the tension begin to melt away.

“I’m sorry,” you hear muffled into your skin, a heartfelt confession that resonates deep within you.

With a tender smile, you’ve been anticipating this apology all night. “It’s all right, my love,” you whisper gently, enveloped in the stillness of the room. “I know you have a lot on your mind right now; it’s okay.” 

James raises his head, his weary eyes meeting yours, searching for reassurance. “Thank you for understanding,” he says softly, voice thick with emotion. “But I still shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.”

You nod, taking a deep breath as your heart aches for him. “No, you shouldn’t have,” you agree, brushing a few loose strands of hair from his forehead. “But we’ll work on it together.” 

James nods silently, the weight of the night still clinging to him. You take his hand, leading him gently out of Harry’s room. He winces as the hallway light hits him, but once you both step into your darkened sanctuary, he visibly relaxes. With a youthful eagerness, he practically jumps into bed, prompting a laugh from you as you admire his vibrant spirit.

You switch off the hallway light, watching as James is enveloped in the comforting shadows of the room. After closing the door, you slip off his sweater and hang it on the chair, only to crawl back into bed. Your arms open wide, and James eagerly welcomes your embrace, his warm skin melting the chill that has settled on you.

Silence envelops you, and just as you feel yourself drifting away into sleep, James speaks softly into the stillness, “Can we have waffles tomorrow? Harry wants some.” His voice is a mere whisper, but it tickles your heart with warmth. When you chuckle, he leans in and kisses your shoulder gently, sharing the affection of the moment.

“Of course, baby, we can have waffles tomorrow. Why not invite Sirius and Remus as well? It would be delightful to see them again, and I’m sure Harry would love it.” You suggest, and as you glance down at him, you catch a glimpse of a wistful smile blooming on his face, a spark of love dancing in his eyes that hadn’t been there in days. It sends your heart soaring.

“If Remus comes over, we might have to make pancakes instead; he’s quite picky,” James comments, his tone playful yet serious. At first, you think he’s joking, but when his expression remains unchanged, you can’t help but raise an eyebrow in surprise.

“Wait, he still hasn’t gotten over that?” you ask, a laugh bubbling in your throat.

James shrugs, a teasing grin playing at the corners of his mouth. “He’s the only person I’ve seen hold a grudge for nine long years.” 

You smile at his humor, shaking your head in disbelief. “I’ll make both waffles and pancakes; how does that sound?” you reply playfully, and in response, James leans forward to kiss you.

It’s not a kiss ablaze with heat but rather one laced with tenderness and affection. His slightly chapped lips softly brush against yours for a fleeting moment before he pulls back, his smile wide and radiant. “That would be lovely, sweet girl,” he murmurs, his voice silky with warmth. “You’re such a sweet girl.” The depth of his feelings wraps around you like a cozy blanket, making you wonder just how much love resides in his enormous heart.

You chuckle, hiding your face in the soothing scent of his hair. “Shut up and go to sleep, Jamie,” you whisper, planting a gentle kiss on the top of his head. He hums contentedly, his eyes fluttering shut at the same instant as yours.

“Yes, ma’am,” he mumbles with a sleepy tone, surrendering to dreams as he drifts off into the soft embrace of slumber.