#harry potter fanfiction

[slytherinboysvip]

Imagine best friend Mattheo being absolutely obsessed with his innocent little Hufflepuff bsf but she just can’t tell. Everyone else knows, and it is quite obvious, but she just can’t think someone like him would want someone like her. But when she jokingly says she’s gonna get Cedric to take her virginity he decides it’s time he came clean.

Possibly with some soft smut if you are comfortable with it of course

bsf mattheo riddle x hufflepuff reader

hopefully this matches your request <3 i’ll most likely make a part 2 for this because.. you’ll see ;) 3.5k words

you lived a rather simple uncomplicated life, attending hogwarts as a hufflepuff with no interest in anyone’s drama. though you kept to yourself most times you tried to be nice to all your peers maintaining your classic hufflepuff demeanor, despite this there was one thing that was different about you.

you see, you didn’t see or understand why people don’t like other houses just because of “house rivalry” especially the students who weren’t even participating in any sports or point winning. and with this over your years though you had few friends you had one best friend who at first seemed rather impossible to be friends with.. mattheo riddle.

when you two met you were a fourth year and him a fifth, coincidentally you were going on to a few friends about your annoyance with people automatically assuming the worst of slytherin even though you yourself weren’t in their house or nearly like one. mattheo overheard this heated- adorable voice coming from behind him and he walked towards you carefully.

he sat down in front of you beside your friend as she gawked faces towards you at his presence. “you don’t think we’re too mean, huh?” he questioned small laugh leaving his lips. “i just think that some people are misunderstood and just because some wizards turned out bad doesn’t mean all of them in your house are” you looked at him answering his question with ease

he smirked in amusement and leaned a little closer to you “hm, hufflepuff eh? what year are you puff?” he sat back examining you and you didn’t fail to notice that nickname he slipped in “fifth year but i have an early birthday which is annoying because i could technically be out sooner” you sighed ignoring his staring.

“well, seeing as it’s ravenclaw against gryffindor do you wanna watch the quidditch game with me i know the best view” he stood up and held his hand out for you, you look towards your friends and they’re both nodding their heads for you to go so you did.

from that point on you and mattheo had been best friends, sadly he was in his seventh year and now you in your sixth nothing much had changed in your life. living vicariously through mattheo and his stories about slytherin parties and how you should go to one with him before it’s too late, he’d tell you about his sexual adventures and your jaw would drop everytime.

you yourself also confided in him though with much less interesting things, telling him how you feel unlikeable by guys sometimes because they never try to get or talk to you, or how you feel lonely because you’ve never had a a boyfriend before. hed always help soothe the thoughts away, telling you that it’s only your brain making those things up , “listen y/n, anyone who doesn’t love you is fucking insane”.

𓆙

talking to your friend zarah who’d been there since day one you always told her what you told matt, for the most part. “i just don’t get why nobody is interested in me zar, like am i genuinely that ugly” you plopped onto your bed sighing dramatically. “you’re not ugly and if you think no guys want you you’re blind i know one in particular that really, really wants you” she giggled.

you looked at her with a confused expression “i must be missing something because i have no idea who you’re talking about” you awaited her response and she just rolled her eyes and sighed “girl your practically boyfriend of a best friend you do everything with” she gave you a duh look and you just laughed. you genuinely couldn’t believe she’d even think he’d like you especially with all the girls he’d been with, “you’re hilarious, we both know he doesn’t want me he wants all the girls he tells me about” you started to compose yourself but zarah’s expression didn’t change.

“you literally must be blind y/n do you need glasses? or should i say puff? let’s talk about how that man hasn’t stopped calling you that pet name since you’ve met.. he’s in love” she rolled her eyes raising her hands in the air. “i still don’t think he wants me so there’s no convincing me” you shrugged her off and she groaned getting up and leaving your shared dorm.

𓆙

“puff you gotta come to this party, slytherin won agains gryffindor i just know this is gonna be the party you want to go to pleaseee” mattheo put his hands on your shoulders shaking you “fiinee” you attempted to answer between shakes before he let you go “if i would’ve known it was that easy i would’ve done that years ago” he rolled his eyes.

“anyways it’s tonight at like 8 so i’ll just get you from your dorm at like 7 do you think they’ll let me in? actually what’s the password?” he didn’t give you time to finish any of your sentences before you just gave him the password “butterscotch” you whispered, in response mattheo laughed “fucking butterscotch merlin that’s hilarious” you looked up at him and rolled your eyes walking away.

“i’ll see you at 7 puff” he yelled across the hall and you just gave a thumbs up and continued walking. you honestly were quite nervous seeing as you’ve never necessarily been to a party before, you’ve made small appearances at hufflepuff parties but you’ve heard they don’t even compare to slytherin.

making your way into your dorm you spot zarah and you pull her up from the common room couch “i finally said yes to a party need help now” you quickly mumbled and she quickened her pace “when does it start girl i need the info right this second come on you’re talking too long for me” she rushed and you blurted it all out “8pm he’s getting me at 7 he has the password he will be at the dorm” closing the door behind you two you both stopped to catch your breath

“sooo is it a dateee” she shimmied her arm on you winking “i already told you he doesn’t like me!!” you replied to her relentlessness. “ugh whatever we need to get you ready girl it’s already six” she pushed you onto your shared vanity chair and pulled out all of your makeup and a few things of hers, “creative control?” she asked smirking at you “mm fine but not too much” you agreed “we’ll see” she giggled.

after around 30 minutes she finished your makeup and she showed you the finished product, looking at yourself in the mirror you thought how you never would’ve put on red lipstick yet you feel really good in it. she gave you a small smokey eye and a small winged liner and you felt you looked more aggressive then you were, but you kinda loved it.

“it’s so much but so pretty” you admired yourself and the makeup she put on you slowly getting used to the feeling of fake eyelashes on your eyes. “i’m so glad you love it, but we need to find an outfit like three hours ago” she joked and rushed to your closets “i actually have the perfect dress in mind if you’re feeling the want to rep slytherin green” she raised her eyebrows up at you in a suggestive matter “sure why not” you shrugged

she handed you a velvet body con forest green dress that you were sure was going to be extremely short and you mean in every place. she held it up onto you “this will be perfect. get it on come on” she rushed you into the bathroom and you began putting it on “this is sooo tight” you called out as you struggled “oh i forgot it was a corset back wait i need to help you can i come in” she yelled through the door

“yeah come on i need this thing one me already” you struggled more as she walked in and immediately began to help you loosening the strings of the dress and pulling it down onto you “there we go now suck in like your life depends on it” she said half jokingly and began retightening the corset back. with every pull it felt like your chest was spilling out more and more and your ribs were shrinking “okay merlin that’s enough before i can’t breathe” you huffed and she stopped tying it off in a bow

“stop you look so hot y/n i bet matt will be drooling” she teased and you just rolled your eyes “what do we do with my hair” you looked at her with horror as you only had ten minutes before he should arrive. you quickly began curling your hair not really caring if it was messy just giving it some body and just as you were spraying perfume on there was a knock on your door.

zarah looked at you and whispered “answer it go go now” she pointed to the door like she was afraid to touch it herself and you walked over opening it to see mattheo in an all black button down with the top few buttons undone and black dress looking pants yet somehow he didn’t look overdressed. he didn’t say anything for a minute he was just staring at you looking up and down in awe “holy fuck y/n who did your makeup you look woah” he put his finger on your chin moving your head around examining your makeup

“zarah isn’t it pretty” you smiled and he removed his hand and replied “yeah you are, now let’s go” he grabbed your hand and you looked behind you waving bye to zarah “he’s so in love with you” she whispered before the door slammed closed.

𓆙

once you got the the party you noticed there were already many slytherins already pregaming and mattheo brought you two to them, “let’s get some alcohol in you little puff” he winked and poured you a shot of who knows what, you smelled the foul drink and it made your nose burn “come on do ittt” he cheered on and you held your nose throwing the shot back gagging at the taste. “how do people enjoy that” you made a face at him “like this” he replied taking two shots himself, “now catch up” he winked pouring you yet another

“if i didn’t know any better id say you’re trying to get me drunk matt” you laughed and he looked at you amused “obviously that’s what im trying to do it’s a party” he put the shot glass to your lips and you parted them taking the burning substance down your throat, “eugh that didn’t get any better the second time” you shook your head in disgust. “hm, let me make you an actual drink” he grabbed a clear liquor and a red juice mixing them together adding more alcohol than your past two shots and handed it to you

“matt this smells foul” you looked up at him, “just try it trust me the slytherins have the masking drink down” he winked and you reluctantly took a sip, and to your surprise all you tasted was juice. after taking another few sips you quick began drinking it and mattheo pulled the cup from your lips “slow down there this shits dangerous you’ll get so drunk you won’t be able to walk straight” he chuckled. “it’s not my fault they made it taste like juice” you shrugged still sipping.

“hey mattheo have your little hufflepuff take some shots with us” enzo threw his arm around your shoulders and mattheo pushed them off almost immediately “no she doesn’t need any shots” he spoke “you didn’t even ask me” you protested, granted you didn’t necessarily want to take any shots you just didn’t like being talked for. “oo are you sure you’re not slytherin you got an attitude” enzo laughed handing you a shot and you looked at mattheo who rolled his eyes as you took the shot.

throwing the shot back the burning sensation took over your throat and you could feel it rushing down your throat. you coughed a bit and chugged your drink for comfort “puff you’re going to get shitfaced slow down” matt fully took your cup this time and you were already feeling it. giggling looking up at him “okay now who was going to tell me party’s are fun” you continued giggling.

the music started playing and the slytherin common room was now getting more and more packed. you saw fifth year students and up in here, even a few ravenclaw and hufflepuffs your recognized. to your surprise in the corner of the party you spotted cedric diggory talking to a group of girls holding a drink.

pansy noticed your head being stuck in a certain direction and followed your eyes “oh em gee, someone’s got their eyes on a certain hufflepuff” she winked shoving her shoulder at your “shhhhh he’s just nice to look at” you giggled at her and she giggled along “you two would be soo cute” she added dragging you back to the drinks

“let’s take some shots!” she exclaimed handing you two , you took them smiling and shot them back with her, a woo leaving her mouth. “here chaser, chaser!” she shouted handing you another drink this time what looked like a lot of the punch, downing it all she laughed “girl we’re gonna be gone”. looking around you were seeing doubles of everything but didn’t want the night to already end.

“so, are you a virgin?” pansy shouted over the music making your already alcohol flushed face even redder “pansy!! you can’t just ask that!!” you shouted back flustered at the intrusive question, “i’m only curious girl” she giggled and gave you begging eyes “come onnnn” she shook you till you gave in “fine yes i am but don’t tell anyone!” you replied back as lowly as you could over the music

“who would you lose it to?” she giggled “i lost mine to blaise hehe sshhhh” she winked, considering she just told you her secret you felt obligated and just looked around “i mean i guess cedric” you giggled as she pointed at him after your response. before she could say anything else you felt a pair of hands wrap around your waist and drag you off. trying to kick your way out was useless and they brought you to an empty dorm.

through all of this you couldn’t tell who it was kicking and screaming for them to let you go till you heard mattheos voice “puff calm down it’s just me” he sighed putting you down on what you now assumed was his bed “why did you bring me in here that was so scary” you huffed trying to gain your composure. “diggory?” he scoffed not answering your question.

you looked at him confused as to what he was on about “what do you mean? what about cedric” you cocked your head to the side in confusion “you lost your virginity to him??” he questioned stepping closer to you looking rather.. pissed. you just laughed in response “me? lose my virginity to cedric?.. you’re funny” yeah you fantasized about it but it certainly wouldn’t happen.

“what were you talking to pansy about then??” he looked at you unconvinced, “she asked if i lost it and i said no, but id let him take it.-“ you shrugged “besides you know i tell you everything matt i’ve never even had a boyfriend let alone a guy be interested in my virginity” you sighed laying back onto the bed now feeling upset.

you heard mattheo sigh and you picked your head up to look at him, his eyes stared back at you in silence before breaking it “believe me there’s a lot of guys who want to get in your pants” he rubbed his fists and you gave him a confused expression yet again “what are you on about matt?” you were getting sober just from all of this extra mystery.

he walked over to the bed sitting beside you, “listen when we met you were just.. blooming completely and i would be lying if i didn’t say i first went up to you because of your looks.. well overtime you know we became friends and i noticed other guys staring in ways they shouldn’t have been so i had to teach them a lesson.” he looked at you and yo didn’t know how to respond to something like that.

“what exactly are you saying matt?” you didnt understand what he was poking at, did matt mean to say he basically likes you? were you reading too much into this? “look y/n, no one else in this school fucking deserves you. hell i don’t deserve you but i know i can treat you how you need. don’t ask me what took so long to confess to you y/n, but do you feel even remotely the same?” he let it all out quick and fast, and your mouth dropped.

“you want.. me?” you looked at him in disbelief and he just smiled “that’s what that whole speech was about, yeah” he chuckled nervously awaiting your reply “why?” you sighed still slightly unconvinced “have you fucking seen yourself puff? you’re so undeniably gorgeous, i don’t know how i hold myself back from you everyday” he leaned in closer to you making this all seem more real. without thinking you allowed yourself to lean into him, faces and lips meeting for the most magical first kiss you could’ve ever imagined.

“you’re so fucking beautiful y/n” he grabbed your face pulling you closer to him till you straddled over his lap sitting down continuing the now makeout. “this is so much better than.. imagined” you huffed through the kisses. you could already feel mattheos member growing beneath you and you never thought you’d be the one experiencing this from your best friend.

you’d be lying if you didn’t admit to a fantasy or two about him in the past but this was already one thousand times better than ever imagined. mattheos lips kissed their way down your neck leaving small marks tiny moans leaving your mouth, “i need to hear more of that, y/n, let me eat you out.. please i need a taste” he continued his kisses along your neck bringing them back to your lips “i’ve never- mm yes” you replied as his fingers began making circles over your underwear.

“you sound so good fuck” he groaned pulling you off of him and getting off the bed, “you’re sure of this?” he questioned one last time and you just nodded impatiently awaiting his next move. next thing you knew he was yanking you to the edge of his bed and slowly removing your pants and underwear looking up at you from below. “holy fuck puff.. you’re fucking soaking” he breathed out over your pussy sending tingles down your spine.

without warning his mouth met your untouched area and you felt things never imaginable. his tongue made its way around your bulging clit, flicking it up and down and making his way to your entrance sucking and licking “you taste so good holy fuck” he huffed going right back in not even looking up at you, “can i put two fingers” he spoke from your pussy and you couldn’t even properly answer “mm y-yes” you replied between your moans.

you felt his slender fingers teasing your entrance and he slowly began inching one in and out teasingly, “mattheo-“ you huffed and he chuckled shoving both fingers in, loud moan escaping your mouth and this new feeling. he did a few different moments trying to figure out what makes you moan the most, soon his tongue was sucking expertly on your clit as his fingers twisters and curled inside of you.

“matt i want to.. try” you moaned at this pleasure wanting nothing more than to feel him inside of you now. “mm but you’re not ready yet puff” he continued devouring your pussy simply divulging in it as if he’d never eaten anything before. his pace on everything quickened and you were already near your own orgasm, “if you don’t s-stop i’m gonna cum” you moaned loudly trying to control yourself.

“let go for me sweetheart” he sucked harder on your clit, the nickname and action forcing your orgasm to flood over you harder than you’ve ever been able to make yourself experience. your body was shaking and you couldn’t hold your reactions back, mattheo slowly licked your gushing area clean before standing up “mm now i think you’ll be ready soon” he smirked leaning down over you, grabbing your chin and giving you a kiss.

[mywhisperingwords]

these three little words | fred g. weasley

summary: four times fred told you he loved you and one time he truly meant it word count: 3.6k masterlist

“You’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met.”

Fred put a hand on his heart while saying, “You wound me greatly.”

Rolling your eyes, you kept walking, leaving him behind, “And yet you are still alive and well just to annoy me.”

Behind you, you could hear him snickering to himself before he caught up with you.

“Just you, my darling,” he told you, putting his arm around your shoulder, “besides, all I said was that your sudden interest in Potions was quite suspicious. For some unknown reason I doubt that you do it for George and me.”

He put his mouth close to your ear, his hot breath tickling your cheek and the sudden closeness made it hard for you to comprehend the next words he whispered, “One might wonder if some specific professor has anything to do with that.”

It took you a moment, but you finally realized what he meant.

“Are you seriously accusing me of fancying Snape? Snape of all people? Sickening,” you shouted as you pushed him away from you with a revolted expression. “That thought alone makes me want to throw up in your face.”

“Now, now, don’t be so vulgar. Snape is awkwardly handsome, quite old and wise. Maybe he could teach you some things,” he started winking suggestively at you before breaking in a laughing fit.

All you could was stare at him, horrified by the idea alone.

This whole conversation only sparked because you mentioned your study’s that were related to potion making. Which you only took up, to help out with new creations in relation to Fred, and George, of course.

Maybe he wasn’t that far off with the whole fancying idea, he just confused the person you fancied.

“Do you hear that?” he asked abruptly, a serious look on his face, that made your stomach twist in an uncomfortable way.

“What?” you asked, still annoyed but also a bit nervous. You weren’t that far away from the forbidden forest and you never knew what kind of creatures were luring in the shadows.

“I thought I heard,” he paused for a moment, suspension rising, “wedding bells.”

“Merlin, you’re a git,” you moaned.

You swiftly turned away from him and crossed your arms, more annoyed with him and his stupid jokes. Quickly you started walking, trying to get away from him.

Maybe it was your attitude or maybe he just realized that you were done with his jokes at the moment but he immediately went after you.

When he caught up with, he again put his arm on your shoulder, before saying, “Aw, come on. You know I was just joking.”

Ignoring him, you kept on walking in the direction of the castle. You weren’t bothered by his jokes, not really. It’s Fred you’re talking about here, he does not mean any harm — at least not to you.

You were also not upset by his little scare, or maybe a little bit. To be honest, you were not quite sure why you were so agitated currently.

Maybe it was the fact that you spent your free time studying, just for him, and George of course. But mostly for Fred. And all he could do is make a mockery out of it just so he doesn’t have to deal with real feelings.

Because you knew, that he was overwhelmed when you told him your studies were a way of helping him and George with their products. Fred wasn’t someone who asked for help, he’d rather deal with his problems on his own. But he also knew that accepting offered help wasn’t a weakness, especially when it came from you.

You recognized it in the way he got quiet for a moment, avoiding looking at you, his cheeks turning a shade of pink, before starting to joke around.

It was a typical Fred reaction.

“Don’t be like that, darling. I love you, don’t ignore me,” he murmured, pressing his lips against the side of your head.

Sometimes you wondered if he knew, when he said things like that but you were aware of the fact that he only saw you as a friend—he had made that clear numerous times.

“I’ll stop ignoring you if you stop joking about me and Snape,” you told him.

He held up his hands in surrender, “Deal.” Grinning at you, he linked his arm with yours, continuing the way up the hill towards the castle.

After a beat of silence, he interrupted it by saying, “But be honest with me, you fancy him at least a tiny bit, right?”

This time, when you pushed him away, you couldn’t help yourself and let out a laugh at his stupid joke.

&

Nights like these were your favorite.

Sitting in Gryffindor common room that was buzzing with conversation, around the fireplace with the people who felt like home to you, and Fred, who was so much more.

All the jokes, the laughter and the love that was shared between you made it sometimes difficult to deem this your life—it felt too good to be true.

Angelina was just retelling the story of how her newest fling asked her out, right after he won his quidditch game. The whole school witnessed that slightly awkward scene, but Angelina was head over heels about this public display of affection.

You could see that George was not so fond of these news, he was averting his gaze and seemed to obviously be more than annoyed at Angelina’s pawning about this handsome Hufflepuff boy.

If only George would tell her how he felt, but who were you to judge, considering you could not even tell your best friend about your feelings.

George’s behavior seemed to be obvious to anyone but Angelina, but Lee was the one to finally put George out of his misery and interrupt her speech, “I can’t even fathom what rid that guy to do all that in public.”

Angelina rolled her eyes, while everyone else laughed. “Maybe the fact that he knows what a woman wants?” she said, raising her eyebrow at you, clearly looking for support on this matter.

But you were the wrong one to address, because you couldn’t imagine anything more horrifying than somebody confessing their love for you in front of everyone.

“I understand that you like that kind of thing, but me personally, I think I would die of embarrassment. I don’t want my love to be so out in the open, at the end of the day it’s only between me and that person,” you told her, giving her an apologetic smile.

While trying to convey your thoughts on that matter, you couldn’t help yourself but let your mind wander to the person you always thought about these days it felt like.

Fred was sitting right next to you, but he was not his usual loud and joking self. There was something weighing on his mind and you wished you could just crawl inside it to find out what was wrong.

But you could not, so all you could do was lean to his side and quietly ask him, “Are you alright?”

Your words seemed to have pulled him out of his thoughts, because his eyes locked on yours, he was quiet for a moment, taking his time to think about his answer. He seemed to find it in your face, because he slowly began to grin before jumping out of his seat, interrupting George who was just talking enthusiastically.

Even with everyone’s eyes on him, he seemed to have only eyes for you.

“Oh, dearest lady of mine heart!” he exclaimed, striding toward you with a grand sweep of his arm. The room fell silent, a few chuckles escaping from his friends as he carried on with exaggerated passion.

He took your hand, eyes glinting with mischief as he dropped to one knee. “Thou art as radiant as the morning sun that doth chase away the drear of night,” he intoned, voice dramatic and thick with feigned longing. “Might I but win a single glance of thy affection, my soul would soar higher than the castle towers!”

You bit back a grin, feeling your cheeks heat up as everyone laughed, watching Fred carry on his theatrical performance.

He leaned in, lowering his voice just a touch. “Ah, fair lady, dost thou know what torment ‘tis to sit beside thee, with no claim upon thy heart?” His tone softened, eyes suddenly more serious than playful. “For, alas, thou hast bewitched me in ways I can scarce confess.”

Someone whistled, and George called out, “Go on, Freddie! Pour your heart out!”

With a smirk, Fred straightened and gave a bow. “Then, my fair one, grant me but a single smile, and I shall know all is well with my heart—for it beats for thee alone.”

&

You were staring holes into the ceiling, wide awake.

That wasn’t a rarity these days.

The impending war was hanging over your head, the uncertainty these days was keeping you up most nights nowadays. Never knowing if the next day would arrive with word of the beginning of the end.

You were staying at the Burrow, a house that has always felt like a safe place, a second home, to you. Lately it didn’t feel as secure as it used to, only the people occupying the space giving it the feeling of a home.

People were scared and though you tried not to show it, you were too.

Sleep was not going to come, you were sure of that. It has come worse and worse in the last few weeks.

That was the reason for why you would spend most nights in at the porch, looking out at the trees until the sun would rise and the rest of the house would wake up.

Some nights Fred would catch you up, not being able to rest himself, so he’d keep you company for a while, until sooner or later falling asleep on the floor next to you.

He would sometimes try to lighten the mood, trying to get you to laugh. Trying to put a smile on your lips, to make these times feel less daunting. And other times he would just sit in silence next to you, watching the sunrise. That’s when you would know that even Fred himself was struggling with being hopeful.

But you would never talk about it, because that would mean that this was real. The possibility of death and loss might not just be that — a possibility.

This night was different than the others and you couldn’t quite pinpoint why that was.

Maybe the reason was, that Fred was already out of bed. Normally you would be the first to come downstairs and he would soon after follow. Sometimes you would swear that he would just listen for your footsteps down the hallway, before he would emerge from his room.

This time when you walked down the stairs, you saw that the side door was slightly open.

When you walked by the kitchen window, you could see Fred sitting outside, staring at the night sky.

He did not acknowledge your presence when you took a seat next to him. All he did was continue to stare at the stars that shone so brightly, even in times like these, looking deep in thought.

After a few minutes of silence, his quiet question was a startling reminder that this fight was taking a constant toll on everyone, even the ones filled with happiness.

“Don’t you wish that it would all just end?”

You did not expect a question like this from him, the one person in this world that always had a hopeless optimism, no matter how bad things looked, he was the one that always said that things can only get better, even with a dagger in his heart.

There was no answer, that you could give him. At least not one, that he did not already know himself.

After a long moment of silence, where you admired the clear night-sky, you told him in a soft voice, “The stars are beautiful tonight.”

“Yes, yes they are,” he agreed, but when you looked over at him, his gaze wasn’t directed towards the sky, no, it was directed at you.

All you could do was stare back at him, and listen to the beating of your heart. You swore, if you stopped breathing, you could also pick up the beat of his.

“I love you,” he whispered and the beating of your heart stopped, for only a second, “You’re my best friend.”

How strange it was to feel anything at all.

&

You were bleeding.

A few moments before, you got hit, you think, you couldn’t remember when it happened exactly.

All you could do was to keep going, ignoring the humming pain at your side. The adrenaline pumping in your veins was keeping you from thinking clearly, acknowledging the deep wound.

The one and only thing that was on your mind, was Fred.

Ever since you heard his name leaving someone’s lips, mentioning that he was hurt, severely, all you could do was look for him in every face that laid on the ground. So many bodies, so many souls that have left before their time.

You felt guilty, that every time you did not see his face on any of the bodies, you felt a sense of relief.

With every turn you took, people were trying desperately to make it out alive. It was a miracle that you were even still alive at this point, with the way you were running past Death Eaters without a care in the world.

It was in the Great Hall where you finally found him, sitting on one of the gurneys.

Without a second thought, you ran towards him, engulfing him in your arms, needing to make sure that he was real and not just a figment of your imagination. There was too much demise for you not to consider that you yourself have already passed.

But when Fred put his arms around you and pulled you against his body you knew that this was real, because it hurt like hell. He was pressing against the wound on your side and you were hurting him too, you must be, given the state he was in. But not any of this mattered when you felt so secure in his arms.

“What were you thinking?” you muttered in his neck, not wanting to let go of him, “You could be dead.”

Fred’s ghost of a laugh brushed the skin of your cheek, leaving a haunted touch. His response to your worries was unconcerned, “I’m not.”

His carelessness made you push him from you, turning your head to the side, so he couldn’t catch a glimpse of the tears welling in your eyes when you whispered, “But you could’ve been.”

The realization hit you at once. There was a sudden urge to just scream your soul out, as you acknowledged that there was a possibility that you could not be sitting here with Fred.

But you did not lash out, no, you broke down. The adrenaline rush and the fear of losing Fred was leaving your body at once and you began crying, not being able to hold them in any longer.

There were so many emotions you were feeling in this moment, guilt for not staying with Fred, anger at anyone who harmed him, and panic for everything you have endured to still be alive.

Fred reached out his hand, taking ahold of yours, muttering sweet nothings to you, “I’m okay, hey, I’m okay.” But you wouldn’t hear it, even if his words rang true. The idea of finding a lifeless Fred in the Great Hall was still to raw. All he could do to comfort you, was to hold you, and he did as he continued to whisper, “I’m right here, alive and breathing.”

You heard his words but you did not recognize them, too caught up with sorting through the mess of your mind. But his next words finally got through to you, because he confessed with a low voice and a soft smile, “I love you too much to just leave you like that.”

Only a few moments later, he noticed the blood on your shirt, a fearful expression on his face as he saw your exhausted eyes, yelling out, “I need a healer. Now!”

&

Something shifted between the two of you after the war, you could feel it in the air, almost being able to touch it with your bare hands.

It was in the way he looked at you, like you would vanish the moment he looked away, and the way he touched you, the way he refused to let go of you, like he feared that you might fade away from his life.

As if he wasn’t the one that could’ve almost slipped away from you.

Maybe it was a reassurance to him, to feel that he was still here, alive and breathing.

To you it was torture. Never before has he been so close to you, yet so far. It was cruel, if you were being honest.

You had taken on the responsibility of helping out with the shop, with Fred healing and George being overwhelmed with the workload, it only made sense.

That was at least what you told yourself. The whole truth was, that you too were scared that if you only for a second turned around that he would be gone. That it had all only been a dream, and Fred had not survived the war but had succumbed to his injuries.

But he had.

It was a day like the one before, you sat next to Fred in the office after the shop had closed, looking over some of the paperwork.

You worked in silence next to one another, but all you fixate on was the way his thigh was plastered on your thigh, the way his arm was pressing right into your arm. It was hard to tell where you began and he ended, everything was blended together and you loathed it.

You hated it, because it was everything you ever wanted, but it looked wrong, misshapen.

“When I was talking to George earlier, he asked if you were staying over again, I told him that you were,” he mumbled, not looking up from his work.

That had been another thing that had been creeping into your new everyday without you noticing it at first. You spend most of your time at their flat, only going to yours to get the mail and water your plants, that were slowly rotting away with the amount of times you were actually around to take care of them.

Like so many other things, it had been unspoken. An unspoken agreement between you, that was just there.

Just like it had been unspoken that you would no longer spend the night on the living room sofa and instead on Fred’s bed, when he saw the uncomfortable sleep you would have on that sofa. Which was not completely true, because it wasn’t the sofa keeping you awake, it was the nightmares.

It was a day like this, long ago, when instead of letting you go left to the living room, he gently took your hand and lead you into his room. Neither of you said a word, when you got ready for bed. You just laid down together, taking comfort in one another, while holding onto each other.

You did not talk about, how you slept better together, or how the nightmares were fewer now. That was just another thing that sneaked its way into your everyday routine.

So when you walked up the stairs into his flat, that felt more like home to you than your own home, you did not say anything, because it was just the way things were now.

And you did not say anything, when you two stood in his tiny bathroom and undressed for bed, because it was just the way things were now.

And you did not say anything, when you crawled into his bed, onto your side, because it was just the way things were now.

But when he put his arms around you, and whispered those three words into your ear, like it was just a part of your new normal, you could not keep quiet any longer.

“Don’t say that, please, don’t say that. Not if you don’t mean it,” you whimpered into the darkness of the night.

He tightened his grip on you, whispering “But I do mean it.”

You were shaking, and with a raw throat you told him the truth, “Not in the way I want you to.”

“In what way do you want me to mean it?” he asked, voice soft.

“In every way.”

He put his lips on your neck, “I do, in every way.”

For the first time in, what felt like years, you finally let go. You let go of all that pain you endured over the years, all of the confusion and agonizing fear you felt. Sobbing into the arms of the man that you have loved, long before you even knew what love truly meant.

And all he did, was hold you together, so you could fall apart, continuing to whisper these words in your ear.

[magical-menagerie-server]

Announcing the Tomarrymort Necro Fest!

A place to explore all forms of necrophilia and our favourite soulmates, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort. Prompting opens in the New Year. Works revealed on the ides of March.

For fest info and to join in on brainstorming, writing sprints and more, join the Magical Menagerie Server, or visit the A03 Collection page.

[angelsfics]

Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter fic recs

i've recently started reading drarry, so here are some of the very favorites i've found. it's not a comprehensive list but just some i enjoyed! feel free to send me more recs.

Aevitumer written by MarshmalowMilkshake ♡ 95k words, rated M. Tags: Time Travel Fix-It, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort

Another Heart Whispers Back written by slytherco ♡ 53k words, rated E. Tags: Friends to Lovers, Pining Draco Malfoy, Oblivious Harry Potter, Casual Intimacy, Sexual Tension & Romantic Tension, Humor, Blind First Dates, Idiots in Love, First Time, Cuddling

Dwelling written by aideomai ♡ 83k words, rated T. Tags: Friends to Lovers, Curses, Boy-Who-Lived Neville Longbottom, Twists & Turns

Hothouse Flowers and Hot Hot Showers written by azalea_larae & boshspice ♡ 101k words, rated E. Tags: Porn with Plot, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Muggle Studies, Studying Muggle Abroad, Roommates, Cuddling, Sexual Tension, Fluff

My Fucking Flatmate written by toxik_angel ♡ 82k words, rated E. Tags: Canon Divergence, Good Draco Malfoy, Draco Defects, Hogwarts 7th Year, Roommates, Harry and Draco in the Muggle World, Youtube, Tension, Fluff, Humor

Now I Know In Part written by dodgerkedavra ♡ 39k words, rated E. Tags: Curses/Curse Damage, Cursed Harry Potter, Curse-Breaker Draco Malfoy, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Recovery, Cottagecore Draco Malfoy

Soulmates (series) written by dodgerkedavra ♡ 27k words, rated E. Tags: Soulmates, Friends to Lovers, Pining, Art/Artist Harry Potter, Bookseller Draco Malfoy, Protective Draco Malfoy, Running Away, PTSD, Grief/Mourning, Post-War, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort

The Bolthole written by aideomai & Tepre ♡ 54k words, rated E. Tags: Grief, Cottage, Roommates, Bed Sharing, Hurt/Comfort, Falling in Love, Harry Potter is a Hoarder

The Lesson of You written by thecouchsofa ♡ 65k words, rated E. Tags: Accidental Child Acquisition, Time Travel, Kid Fic, Fluff, Family Fluff, Forced Proximity

The Softer Side of Draco Malfoy written by QueenofThyme ♡ 29k words, rated M. Tags: Hogwarts Eighth Year, Potions Accident, Enemies to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, Harry stalking Draco

Then Comes a Mist and a Weeping Rain written by Faith Wood (faithwood) ♡ 21k words, rated E. Tags: Hogwarts Eighth Year, Humor, Romance, Hurt/Comfort

Third Drawer Down written by eleventy7 ♡ 1.6k words, rated T. Tags: Hurt, Angst

Way Down We Go written by xiaq ♡ 109k words, rated T. Tags: Werewolf Harry Potter, Post-Canon, EWE, Domestic, Healing & Recovery, Redemption, Roommates, Chronic Illness, Hurt/Comfort.

what husbands are for written by softlystarstruck ♡ 52k words, rated E. Tags: Werewolves & Vampires, Political/Arranged Marriage, Werewolf Harry, Vampire Draco, Domestic, Hurt/Comfort, Trans Male & Autistic Main Characters

Who we are in the shadows written by Quicksilvermaid ♡ 99k words, rated E. Tags: Werewolves, Werewolf Harry Potter, Case Fic, Slow Burn, Secrets/Lies, Angst, Possessive Behavior, Falling In Love, Enemies to Lovers

Within You Without You written by arminaa ♡ 39k words, rated E. Tags: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mind Healer Draco Malfoy, Recovery, Anxious/Lonely/Depressed Harry Potter, Harry Potter Gets Therapy, EWE, Pining, Falling in Love, First Love/First Time

[badger-tales]

Stolen Glances// F.W x Reader

a/n: Guys my requests are still open, who and what i write is pinned on my account!

request:

I’ve been reading your fics for awhile now and I’ve finally worked up the courage to request a fic. (Anonymously, of course)

Can you please do a fic of reader x Fred Weasley where reader has liked Fred for awhile but he never noticed. But then, after a quidditch match or smth, Reader heads back to the common room real sulky (because she saw Fred and Angelina and came to the wrong conclusion) when Fred comes and walks her to the common room. They don’t have to confess their feeling or anything if you don’t want to, but I just want a nice, wholesome, fluff fic. Thank you!

word count: 6K

The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch. The Gryffindor team was in the middle of an intense practice session, their scarlet robes fluttering behind them like the tails of streaking comets. The air was filled with the sounds of beating wings, shouted instructions, and the occasional thud of Bludgers hitting the bats of Beaters.

You sat perched on one of the higher rows in the Gryffindor stands, surrounded by a mix of excited students. The air was crisp, carrying with it the faint scent of damp grass and the thrill of competition. Your friends were chatting animatedly beside you, their eyes flitting from one player to another, but your gaze was locked on one figure alone.

Fred Weasley.

There he was, flying circles around the rest of the team with that familiar, confident ease that made your heart pound in your chest. His messy red hair caught the sunlight, and every now and then, that infectious grin of his would flash across his face, making him seem even more brilliant. It was like he belonged up there in the sky, as if the broom was just an extension of him, a natural part of who he was.

You sighed, resting your chin on your palm, trying (and failing) to tear your eyes away from him.  

"Why does he have to be so annoyingly perfect?" you thought to yourself, a touch of bitterness seeping into your internal monologue. "I bet he doesn’t even know I exist."

The practice continued, with Fred and George working seamlessly as a Beater duo, sending Bludgers flying toward their teammates who were practicing dodges. Each time Fred whacked a Bludger, his muscles tensed, and you couldn’t help but admire the strength and grace behind each swing.

But it was more than just his skill on the field that had you so utterly captivated. It was the way he seemed to light up a room—or in this case, an entire Quidditch pitch—effortlessly drawing people in with his charm, his laughter, his natural charisma. And yet, it was that very charm that made him feel so... out of reach. 

"He’s probably got girls lining up just to talk to him," you mused bitterly, shaking your head. "Why would he ever notice someone like me?"

As if on cue, Fred suddenly pulled up on his broom, hovering in place for a moment. His gaze drifted toward the stands, squinting slightly as if trying to spot someone in the crowd. Your heart leapt into your throat. Was he looking... at you?

Time seemed to slow down as he raised his hand and waved. For a fleeting, heart-stopping moment, you could have sworn his eyes locked with yours. The blood rushed to your cheeks, and you could feel your heart thudding against your ribcage like it was trying to break free.

"Could he really be waving at me?" you wondered, hope blooming in your chest. You even managed a tentative wave back, your breath caught somewhere between your lungs and your throat.

But then, reality crashed down like a Bludger to the gut.

Fred's grin widened as a group of younger Gryffindor students a few rows below you erupted into cheers, waving back enthusiastically. He shot them a playful salute, his eyes crinkling with laughter.

Your arm froze mid-wave, a hot flush of embarrassment creeping up your neck. You quickly lowered your hand, trying to pretend you were just brushing a stray hair out of your face. 

"Of course, it wasn’t for me," you muttered under your breath, a bitter smile twisting your lips. You could feel your friends exchanging glances beside you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at them. Instead, you focused intently on the pitch, willing the sting of rejection to fade.

Fred turned back to his teammates, seemingly unaware of the little scene that had played out in the stands. He was back to his easygoing self, joking with George as they lined up for another round of Bludger practice. 

And you? You were left sitting there, trying to force your heart to stop racing, trying to swallow down the disappointment that tasted far too familiar. Because that was the thing about having a crush on someone like Fred Weasley—it was always just out of reach, like trying to catch a Snitch with your bare hands.

But despite the sting, you couldn’t stop your eyes from drifting back to him, couldn’t stop that tiny flicker of hope from lighting up inside you every time he came close. Because maybe, just maybe... one day, he'd notice you.

But for now, you stayed in your seat, surrounded by laughter and cheers, with only the warmth of the afternoon sun to keep you company.

The late afternoon sun was beginning to set behind the castle, bathing the Hogwarts grounds in a soft, golden glow. The sky above was a mix of pinks and oranges, the colors reflecting off the shimmering lake in the distance. Quidditch practice had ended, and now, players were trickling out of the changing rooms, their laughter and banter filling the cooling air as they made their way back toward the castle.

You lingered just outside, leaning against the cool stone wall, pretending to be busy adjusting the strap of your bag. In reality, your fingers were fidgeting aimlessly, your mind barely registering your friend's conversation with one of the reserve players beside you. The words were just noise—a distant hum as you scanned the players leaving the pitch.

Your heart was racing, but you kept your expression carefully neutral. You were waiting. Waiting for a glimpse of him. You told yourself you were just delaying your walk back to the castle, but deep down, you knew the truth: you were hoping to see Fred Weasley one last time before the evening was over. Maybe today, after catching his eye during practice, he’d notice you. Maybe he’d smile, say something, anything...

"Pathetic," you thought, scolding yourself, but you couldn't help it. That flutter of hope was there, persistent and stubborn.

Just as you were about to give up and turn away, the door to the changing rooms swung open. Your breath hitched as Fred stepped out, his red hair damp and tousled, droplets of water still clinging to his neck. His practice robes were slung casually over one shoulder, revealing the snug, sweat-stained shirt beneath that clung to his broad shoulders. 

Your heart did a little flip, and you stood a bit straighter, your pulse quickening. He looked so effortlessly perfect, his grin bright as ever. For a moment, you felt a spark of courage, the fleeting thought that maybe, just maybe, you could muster the nerve to wave or even call out to him.

But before you could act, someone else beat you to it.

Angelina Johnson appeared beside him, striding out of the changing rooms with that confident, easy grace that seemed to come so naturally to her. She was still in her Quidditch gear, her dark braids pulled back, and there was a light sheen of sweat on her forehead. The two of them shared a laugh, the kind of laugh that made it seem like they were the only ones in the world. 

You felt your chest tighten, your heart sinking like a stone as you watched Fred drape an arm over Angelina’s shoulders. It was such a casual gesture, the kind he did with all his

close friends, but the way she leaned into him... the easy familiarity between them... it made your stomach twist painfully.

"You’ve always been my favorite Beater partner, Angie," Fred said, his voice carrying easily over the noise of the other players. His tone was light, teasing, and it sent a ripple of laughter through Angelina.

The world around you seemed to blur, the laughter and chatter of your fellow students fading into a dull hum. All you could hear were Fred’s words, replaying over and over like a cruel echo. The scene in front of you—Fred’s arm around Angelina, the way he looked at her—felt like a punch to the gut.

"Why her?" you thought bitterly, feeling a sharp pang of envy. Angelina was everything you weren’t—confident, beautiful, athletic. She fit effortlessly into Fred’s world, while you... you were just a spectator on the sidelines, always watching but never truly part of it.

A sharp sting pricked the back of your eyes, and you blinked furiously, refusing to let the tears fall.  

"Get a grip," you muttered to yourself under your breath. "It’s not like he ever noticed you, anyway." You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, but it felt like it was stuck there, making it hard to breathe.

You took a deep, shaky breath and tore your gaze away from them, your vision blurring with unshed tears. The last thing you wanted was for anyone to see you like this—especially Fred. 

"How could I have been so stupid?" you berated yourself silently as you turned on your heel. You began walking quickly, your footsteps heavy and hurried as if you could somehow outrun the hurt clawing at your chest.  

"Of course he’d go for someone like her. How could I ever compare?"

As you weaved through the students still lingering near the pitch, the world around you became a blur. All you could see was that image of Fred’s arm around Angelina, his bright, carefree smile, the way she leaned into him without hesitation. It was like a scene burned into your mind, tormenting you with each step.

"You idiot," you thought harshly, clutching the strap of your bag so tightly that your knuckles turned white. "Did you really think you ever had a chance? He’s always been out of your league." 

The laughter from the Quidditch players echoed behind you, and it only made the ache in your chest worse. You ducked your head as you passed a group of Hufflepuffs, hoping they wouldn’t notice the tell-tale shine in your eyes. The castle loomed ahead, its familiar silhouette now feeling more like a cage, every corridor and stairway a reminder of how foolish you’d been to ever think Fred Weasley could see you as more than just another face in the crowd.

By the time you reached the main staircase, you were practically running, desperate to reach the sanctuary of the Gryffindor common room where you could hide away from the world. Your breaths came in shallow gasps, your throat tight with the effort to hold back tears.

"I was just a fool," you thought, a single tear finally slipping down your cheek as you turned the corner. "He never noticed me. He never will."

You wiped it away angrily, quickening your pace. Maybe once you got to your dorm, you could bury yourself under your blankets and pretend this day had never happened. But as Fred’s laughter replayed in your mind, that hollow ache in your chest only deepened, a painful reminder that the crush you’d tried so hard to ignore had just been shattered into a thousand pieces.

The castle was growing colder as the evening chill settled into the stone walls, the flickering torchlight casting long shadows that danced eerily across the corridors. Most students had retreated to the warmth of their common rooms by now, leaving the hallways nearly deserted. Your footsteps echoed in the emptiness, each step seeming to mock you, the sound hollow and taunting in your ears.

You walked quickly, head down, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself as if you could somehow hold yourself together. The memory of Fred with his arm around Angelina replayed in your mind like a cruel, broken record: the way they laughed together, how natural and easy it was between them. Every replay brought a fresh stab of pain, and your heart clenched with a bitterness that spread like ice through your veins.

"Why did I let myself hope?" you thought bitterly, your breaths coming faster, more shallow. "I should’ve known better. It was foolish to think someone like him would notice someone like me." 

The corridor seemed to stretch endlessly before you, each flickering torch like a cruel spotlight illuminating your thoughts. Your eyes stung, but you pressed your lips together to stop them from trembling, refusing to let the tears fall. 

In the silence, your whispered words seemed to echo louder than you intended:  

"Stupid feelings. Stupid Fred."

As soon as the words left your mouth, a pang of guilt washed over you. You didn’t really think Fred was stupid. No, the problem was that he was far too wonderful—kind, funny, effortlessly charming. It was why it hurt so much that he didn’t see you the way you saw him. But right now, the hurt and frustration twisted your feelings into a tangled mess that you couldn’t sort through.

"No," you argued with yourself, wiping furiously at your eyes. "He’s not wonderful if he can’t even see what’s right in front of him."

But just as you were nearing the corner by the library, hurried footsteps echoed behind you, breaking the silence of the empty corridor. Your heart lurched, and for a wild moment, you hoped it was just a Prefect doing their rounds. But then, you heard that unmistakable voice—slightly breathless, tinged with concern.

"Oi! Wait up, will you?"

You froze, your back stiffening. Of course, it had to be him. You clenched your fists, trying to steady your breath, but your heart was already racing, your emotions threatening to spill over. You took a deep breath, wiping at your eyes one last time before reluctantly turning around.

There he was—Fred Weasley, jogging toward you, his hair slightly tousled and cheeks flushed from the cold. His Gryffindor scarf was loose around his neck, his shirt still slightly damp from practice, the scent of soap and fresh air clinging to him.

"Oh, Merlin," you thought, your heart sinking. "Why did it have to be him?"

You averted your gaze, focusing on the floor, the ancient stones suddenly fascinating. Heat rose to your cheeks, and you were sure they were glowing like a pair of red lanterns.  

"What do you want, Fred?" you asked, the words coming out sharper than you intended. You winced internally but kept your eyes down, afraid that if you looked at him, everything you were feeling would be written all over your face.

Fred paused, leaning forward slightly to catch his breath, his hands resting on his knees. When he straightened up, his expression was a mix of concern and confusion.  

"Just... thought you shouldn’t be walking back alone," he said, his tone light but with a hint of something softer beneath it. "It’s late, you know."

You could hear the familiar teasing lilt in his voice, but there was also that glimmer of genuine worry that made your chest ache even more. Why did he have to be so kind, so thoughtful? It only made everything hurt more. 

"I’m fine," you replied curtly, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, trying to keep your voice steady. "I can walk myself."

Fred’s brows furrowed, his smile faltering. He looked genuinely taken aback by your tone, his eyes searching your face.  

"Alright, alright," he said, holding up his hands as if in surrender. "Didn’t mean to step on your toes. Just thought you might want some company."

Company. The word grated against your already frayed nerves. Company now, when it no longer mattered. Where was this when you needed him to notice you, to see how you felt? But instead of voicing your thoughts, you shrugged, still refusing to meet his gaze.

Fred didn't move, though, and you could feel his eyes on you, trying to read what was wrong. The silence between you was thick and heavy, and all you wanted was to escape, to put as much distance as possible between you and those concerned hazel eyes.

"Seriously, are you alright?" he asked, his voice softer now, the teasing tone gone. "You’ve been... well, you don’t seem yourself tonight."

You swallowed hard, blinking rapidly to push down the tears that threatened to spill. "I wonder why," you thought bitterly, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. You couldn’t tell him how much it hurt to see him with Angelina, how foolish you felt for ever thinking you could be anything more than a friend to him.

Instead, all you managed was a quiet,  

"I’m just tired, Fred. It’s been a long day."

Fred’s face softened even more, and he took a step closer. He was so close now that you could smell the faint, comforting scent of soap mixed with the crisp chill of the evening air.  

"Alright," he said gently, his voice barely more than a whisper. "But if something’s bothering you... you can tell me, you know."

You nodded stiffly, not trusting yourself to speak. If you opened your mouth now, you were afraid everything would spill out—all your hurt, your frustration, your stupid, unrequited feelings. The ache in your chest was almost unbearable, and you couldn’t bear the thought of him seeing you like this.

Fred hesitated for a moment, like he wanted to say more, but he didn’t push. Instead, he simply fell into step beside you, matching your slow, tense pace. The corridor stretched ahead, dark and silent except for the faint sound of your footsteps and the occasional crackle of torchlight.

As you reached the staircase leading up to the Gryffindor tower, Fred’s fingers brushed lightly against yours, the touch almost hesitant, as if he was testing the waters. Your heart leapt at the contact, a flicker of warmth amidst the cold that had settled inside you. But before you could process it, you pulled your hand away, clenching it into a fist to stop it from trembling.

"Goodnight, Fred," you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper. Without waiting for a response, you hurried up the stairs, your footsteps echoing behind you. You didn’t dare look back, afraid that if you did, the tears you’d been holding back would finally break free.

Fred stood at the base of the staircase, watching you disappear, a confused and slightly hurt expression on his face. But you didn’t see it—your vision was too blurred by the tears that had finally escaped, leaving a glistening trail down your cheeks.

The Gryffindor common room was unusually quiet, the warmth of the crackling fire filling the near-empty space with a cozy, intimate atmosphere. The flickering glow danced across the walls, casting long, wavering shadows that seemed to move in sync with your erratic thoughts. The few first-years in the corner barely registered to you—they were simply background noise, whispers that faded away as you focused on the tightening knot in your chest.

You and Fred entered together, the cold from the castle corridors clinging to your clothes, quickly replaced by the welcoming heat of the common room. You hesitated near the door, feeling that strange tension between wanting to run to your dormitory and wanting to stay near him, even though every second hurt. 

Fred paused, looking at you with a gentle gaze, before nodding toward the large armchairs by the hearth.  

"Come on, let’s sit for a bit," he suggested, his voice softer than usual. There was an uncharacteristic uncertainty in his tone, as if he sensed just how fragile the moment was. 

You swallowed hard, reluctant but following him nonetheless. Every muscle in your body was tense, as though you were walking into a trap of your own making. You felt like you were about to break, and yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave—not with the way Fred was looking at you.

You sank into the plush armchair, the warmth of the fire licking at your face, but it did little to chase away the cold that had settled deep in your bones. Fred sat across from you, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. He was watching you, his eyes full of that same concern that had been haunting you all evening, and it was almost unbearable. You turned your gaze to the flames, the dancing colors easier to focus on than the intensity of his eyes.

The silence between you was thick, heavy with words unspoken, questions unasked. You didn’t want to be here, didn’t want this conversation, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move. You bit the inside of your cheek, hard enough to ground yourself, to keep yourself from snapping. "Why can’t he just let this go?" you thought, frustration and hurt battling for control.

Fred cleared his throat, trying to break the tension. He flashed that familiar grin, the one that usually made your heart flutter, made you forget everything else.  

"You’re awfully quiet tonight. Lost your voice after cheering for us so much at practice?" he teased, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

But tonight, that grin was a reminder of everything you could never have, everything that seemed so far out of reach. You forced a laugh, hollow and thin, barely glancing at him.  

"Yeah, something like that," you muttered, your voice sounding distant even to yourself. 

"Come on, just act normal," you scolded yourself internally. "Don’t let him see how much this is affecting you." But the ache in your chest made it impossible to mask your feelings, no matter how hard you tried.

Fred's grin faded, his brow furrowing as he leaned in closer, his eyes searching your face.  

"Alright, enough of that," he said, his voice softening, the teasing gone. "Something’s definitely off, and I’m not leaving until you tell me what it is."

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten painfully. You didn’t want this—didn’t want his concern, his kindness. It was easier when he was teasing, when you could brush him off and pretend you were okay. But this, the gentle tone, the genuine worry—it was too much. It made the walls you’d built around your heart feel like they were crumbling, and you weren’t ready for that.

You bit your lip, your fingers digging into the armrest of the chair as if it were the only thing keeping you grounded.  

"It’s nothing, really," you said, forcing your voice to stay steady, though it felt like you were holding back a dam that was ready to burst.

Fred’s eyes narrowed slightly, clearly not believing you. He shifted in his seat, leaning even closer, his voice dropping to a near-whisper.  

"You’ve been acting weird all evening. And it’s not just tonight—it’s been going on for days." His gaze softened, a touch of uncertainty entering his expression. "Did I do something wrong?"

The question almost shattered you. If only he knew. You felt a lump form in your throat, your vision blurring as tears threatened to spill. You shook your head quickly, focusing on your lap, trying to blink the tears away.  

"No, it’s... it’s not you, Fred," you managed, your voice trembling, barely holding together. 

He was silent for a moment, his eyes searching your face. You could feel him studying you, trying to piece together what was wrong. He sighed softly, rubbing the back of his neck, a rare sign of discomfort.  

"Look, I’m not great at this stuff," he admitted, "but you can talk to me, you know. Whatever it is, I’m here."

His words almost undid you. There was a raw earnestness in his voice, a vulnerability that you rarely saw from Fred. For a split second, you were tempted to tell him everything—the hurt, the jealousy, the way your heart ached every time you saw him with Angelina. But the fear of rejection, the fear of making a fool of yourself, kept you silent. The walls around your heart were fragile, but they were still standing.

Fred reached out, his fingers brushing against your knee gently, and it sent a jolt through you.  

"Hey," he said softly, his eyes meeting yours, his gaze pleading. "Please, don’t shut me out."

The unexpected touch, the warmth of his fingers, was too much. A tear slipped down your cheek before you could stop it. You turned your face away quickly, your breath hitching.  

"I-I can’t," you whispered, your voice breaking. "It’s too... I just can’t, alright?"

You heard him inhale sharply, and you knew he’d seen the tear. You hated how vulnerable you felt, hated that you were falling apart in front of him. You wished you could disappear, wished the floor would swallow you up.

Fred’s expression softened even more, and he moved his chair closer, the legs scraping softly against the floor. He was so close now that you could feel his warmth, the scent of him mingling with the smoky heat of the fire.  

"Please," he urged again, his voice barely a whisper, filled with so much gentleness it made your heart ache. "Just talk to me."

You couldn’t hold it in any longer. The emotions you’d been bottling up finally overflowed.  

"I thought—" your voice broke, and you swallowed hard, trying to steady yourself. "I thought you and Angelina... I saw you two after practice, and I just—" You shook your head, tears slipping down your cheeks. "Forget it. It’s stupid."

Fred looked confused, his brow furrowing.  

"Angelina?" he repeated, his voice tinged with surprise. "What about her?"

The words came out in a rush, a mix of frustration and hurt.  

"I saw you two together. You had your arm around her, and you were laughing, and I just... I thought..." You trailed off, your voice barely a whisper, realizing how pathetic you must sound. 

Fred stared at you for a long moment, and then, to your utter confusion, he started to laugh. It wasn’t mocking—there was no malice in it—but it caught you so off guard that you flinched, more tears spilling over.

"Merlin’s beard," he said between chuckles, rubbing his forehead. "Is that what this is about? You thought... oh, no, love, no." He leaned forward, his tone softening as he reached for your hand, his fingers wrapping around yours warmly.  

"Angelina’s just my friend. We’ve been teammates for years, that’s all."

You blinked, the words taking a moment to sink in.  

"But... you were so close, and I thought..."

Fred shook his head, smiling gently.  

"Nah," he interrupted, squeezing your hand. "I promise you, there’s nothing like that between us. She’s practically my sister." He paused, his gaze searching yours, his eyes filled with warmth. "Is that really what’s been bothering you?"

You nodded slowly, feeling a mix of relief and embarrassment washing over you. Fred was still holding your hand, his touch grounding you, and for the first time tonight, you finally looked up into his eyes. They were warm, soft, filled with something you couldn’t quite name, something that made hope flicker inside you.

"Well," he said quietly, his thumb brushing gently over the back of your hand, "if I’d known you were jealous, I would’ve done something about it sooner."

Your breath caught in your throat.  

"Jealous? I—I wasn’t—" you stammered, your cheeks burning.

Fred smiled softly, leaning closer, his eyes never leaving yours.  

"You were," he said gently, his voice teasing but affectionate. "And... I think I like it." His eyes flickered to your lips for a split second before returning to yours. "I think... I like you."

Your heart stuttered, his confession hanging in the air between you. The warmth of the fire, the way he was looking at you—it was overwhelming. But for the first time, it didn’t feel like you were making a fool of yourself. It felt like maybe, just maybe, your hopes weren’t so foolish after all.

"You... you really mean that?" you whispered, barely daring to believe it.

Fred grinned, squeezing your hand again.  

"Yeah, I really do."

And just like that, the ache in your chest began to lift, replaced by something warm and light—a flicker of hope that maybe, this time, things would be different.

The days following your confession with Fred passed in a blur, the bustling atmosphere of Hogwarts enveloping you in its usual hustle and bustle. The castle was decked out in festive decorations for the upcoming winter break—garlands of evergreens draped over staircases, candles twinkling like stars, and the faint scent of cinnamon drifting through the corridors. Yet, none of that seemed as magical as the way Fred Weasley was now treating you.

It started almost immediately after that heartfelt conversation in the common room. You could hardly catch your breath before Fred began seeking you out at every opportunity. It was as though a switch had flipped inside him, and he was determined not to let another moment slip by. The morning after, you were quietly sipping your pumpkin juice in the Great Hall when Fred slid onto the bench beside you, so casually that it nearly made you spill your drink.

“Morning,” he said, grinning widely as he nudged your shoulder playfully. “Saved you a spot.”

You couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your lips, even though your heart raced at his proximity. It was a heady mix of disbelief and delight—was this really happening? You nodded shyly in response, still getting used to this new, attentive version of Fred. The way he looked at you, with that warm sparkle in his eyes, sent a flurry of butterflies through your stomach.

In the days that followed, Fred’s usual playful teasing shifted into something deeper, more affectionate. You couldn’t take two steps in the castle without him appearing at your side, whether it was slipping into the chair next to you in the library or “coincidentally” bumping into you as you walked between classes. It was as if he couldn’t stand to be away from you, and every encounter left you feeling giddy and lightheaded.

One afternoon, as you chatted with your friends near the courtyard, Fred leaned against the wall nearby, waiting for you. When you finally noticed him, he shot you a cheeky grin. “Finally! Thought you’d forgotten all about me,” he teased, his eyes crinkling in that familiar way that made your heart flutter.

You tried to play it cool, rolling your eyes even as warmth spread through you. “You’re impossible, Weasley,” you muttered, unable to stop the smile tugging at your lips.

During Potions class, when you were paired together, Fred took full advantage of your close proximity. As you tried to focus on your bubbling cauldron, he leaned in close, his breath brushing your ear as he whispered jokes that sent shivers down your spine.

“You know,” he said in that low, teasing tone, “if I’d known you liked me that much, I would’ve asked you to be my personal cheerleader ages ago.”

You laughed, cheeks burning as you tried to keep stirring the potion. “Cheerleader? I think you’re confusing me with the actual Quidditch team,” you shot back, though your voice wavered slightly.

“Nah, I’d rather have you cheering just for me,” he said, his eyes locking onto yours. The lightness of his words was underscored by something far more genuine, something that made your heart race.

Yet despite his affectionate words, a tiny voice of doubt lingered in the back of your mind. Every time Fred brushed his fingers against yours or leaned in too close, your heart soared, but the question remained—was this just Fred being Fred? What if it was all just another one of his jokes?

One evening, after a long day of classes, you were walking back from Transfiguration when Fred fell into step beside you, his shoulder bumping yours playfully. “So,” he said, sounding almost nonchalant, “I was thinking... maybe we could sneak out after dinner tonight? I hear the view from the Astronomy Tower is pretty spectacular.”

You paused, turning to look at him, your heart thudding in your chest. “Are you... are you serious?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper, a thread of hope woven into your words.

Fred turned to face you fully, his teasing grin softening into something far more genuine. “Of course I’m serious,” he said, his voice quiet and earnest. “I... I want to spend time with you. Just the two of us.”

Later that night, you found yourself sneaking through the castle under the cover of Harry’s Invisibility Cloak. The thrill of sneaking around with him sent your heart racing as you tried to stifle your giggles whenever Filch’s footsteps echoed down the corridor. Fred’s hand held yours tightly, his warmth steadying you as he led you up the winding staircase to the Astronomy Tower.

When you reached the top, you stepped out into the cold, crisp night air. The sky above was clear, stars scattered like diamonds across a velvet expanse, the moon casting a silvery glow over the castle grounds. For a moment, it felt like you’d stepped into a dream.

Fred pulled the cloak off with a dramatic flourish, spreading it on the cold stone floor so you could sit. “Perfect spot, isn’t it?” he said, grinning as he settled beside you.

You nodded, sitting so close that your knees touched. The night was silent, except for the soft breeze and the occasional distant hoot of an owl. For once, Fred wasn’t joking or teasing. He was just watching you, his eyes reflecting the starlight.

“I’ve been thinking a lot since... well, since you told me how you felt,” Fred began, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. He reached for your hand, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. “I’m sorry I was so thick. I should’ve noticed sooner.”

You shook your head, your voice barely a whisper. “I never thought you’d... I didn’t think you felt the same.”

Fred’s gaze held yours, his eyes soft and sincere. “I do. I think I’ve liked you for a long time, but I was too busy being an idiot to realize it. But now that I know... I don’t want to waste any more time.”

Your breath caught as he leaned in closer, his gaze flicking to your lips. You nodded slightly, and that was all he needed. Fred closed the distance, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was warm, tender, and filled with all the words that had gone unspoken between you. The world seemed to melt away until it was just the two of you under the stars.

When you finally pulled away, you were both smiling like fools, your foreheads pressed together. “So... does this mean you’ll be cheering for me at every Quidditch match?” Fred teased, his grin returning.

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Only if you promise to score at least two goals every game.”

“Deal,” he whispered, sealing the promise with another soft kiss.

Sneaking back to the common room, your hands still intertwined, you couldn’t stop smiling. As you stepped through the portrait hole, a few friends shot you knowing glances, but Fred just pulled you closer, unfazed by the attention.

“Guess the whole castle’s going to know by morning,” you muttered, half-embarrassed, half-delighted.

“Good,” Fred said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Let them know. I’ve finally got the girl I’ve been waiting for.”

The two of you curled up together on one of the sofas by the dying fire, the warmth from the hearth wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. Fred rested his chin on top of your head, his arms around you. “You know,” he murmured sleepily, “I never thought I’d get this lucky.”

You smiled, snuggling closer to him. “Neither did I,” you whispered.

As the castle settled into peaceful quiet and the fire burned low, you drifted off in Fred’s arms, knowing that whatever came next, you’d face it together.

[sophie-hatter-jenkins]

@ididmywaiting12years did you see this??? It’s so good!!

“Look… If we will do this—I mean—I already have my fair share of troubles, you know?”

“Hum,” he mumbles. Ginny takes it as an agreement.

“And I think you’ve already got yours, so—” Her voice shakes; the back of his hand is caressing her jaw, his thumb brushing the corner of her lips. “So this is just your classic one night stand.”

That makes him pause, his gaze now meeting hers; there’s relief and also an inopportune disappointment when he nods.

“Just two strangers meeting,” he agrees, but then he tilts his head, curious. “What’s your name?”

“Strangers,” Ginny reinforces. “No names. You can call me…” Her gaze falls over her half-drunk cocktail. “Gin.”

“Gin,” he repeats, eyes shining. “It suits you. I’m guessing this makes me Fizz.”

(Now on AO3)

[seriouslysam8]

Selcouth Update!

Chapter Five: Father's Day

Here it is! The chapter is up! We are finally in the main storyline. I hope you enjoy!!

[slytherinboysvip]

*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚Slytherin boys react to your period being late over text ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

this is from my old TikTok acc, i haven’t posted on there in months but let me know if i should post more of these in here!! my old tiktok is @/slytherin.imagines<333 maybe i could make new ones too…

[unconventional-lawnchair]

In The Absence of Goodbye

Bartemius Crouch Jr. x Fem!Reader

Summary: Concept- After being sent back in time to spend a year in the Marauders Era, reader is thrown forward in time and has her memories erased.

But was she truly sent home?

Aka: Dumbledore underestimates Barty's absolute disregard for order when it comes to his vixen.

In The Absence of Goodbye {Prologue}

In the Space Between {Chapter One}

In the Wake of Us {Chapter Two}

Taglist: @bmyva1entine

If you want to be put on, or taken off my taglist, feel free to tell me!

[amorryblaine]

Studying the constellations and this line just broke my heart 💔

[marvel-snape-writes]

Okay, okay, I hear you all loud and clear! The next smutty Snape one shot will be option one:

“Severus and original female character have been dating for a little while and he invites her round to his for some soft festive snuggles with snacks and wine and kissing and wandering hands and one thing leads to another and… they end up sleeping together for the first time 👀 but all very loving and soft and warm 🥹”

Consider it started! Read along as grumpy, Scrooge-like Snape turns into a soft, passionate and warm lover… snippets will be posted along the way, but the full thing will be posted on Christmas Eve — consider it my Christmas present to you all! 🎁🎁🎁

(Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged!!!)

And as always, thank you to ANYONE who reads anything I write - I appreciate it more than you’ll ever know 🥰

[that-pjo-obsessed-b1tch]

When you feel bad about your procrastination,remember that Harry had 3 months to figure out the golden egg clue and he waited until the like night before to do it. At least you're not gonna die for not doing your homework.

[badger-tales]

Partners in Crime// G.W x reader

a/n: my requests are open guys who and what i write is pinned on my account

request: George x reader and their strictly best friends, except everyone thinks their dating and they just go around messing with people to keep the joke going

(I just need platonic Twins fics 😭😭😭)

word count: 8.4k

The Gryffindor common room was alive with its usual post-dinner energy, the air filled with laughter, the crackle of the fireplace, and the clatter of chess pieces as students played games. The warm glow from the fire cast dancing shadows across the walls, making the room feel cozy and inviting. 

You were perched on the arm of a well-worn sofa, a thick book propped open in your lap. The chatter of your friends filled the air around you, but you were focused on the passage you were reading for Defense Against the Dark Arts, trying to ignore the distractions. It was a futile effort, of course, given where you were.

George Weasley’s voice cut through the noise, a familiar, teasing tone that made your heart skip a beat even as it annoyed you. He strolled over casually, his usual mischievous grin in place, and without missing a beat, he draped an arm around your shoulders, leaning in close to peer over at your book.

"What’s this, then? Some kind of romantic novel?" he teased, his breath warm against your ear. The proximity made your pulse quicken, but you kept your expression neutral.

You rolled your eyes, shoving him lightly with your free hand, though there was a smile tugging at your lips.  

"It’s for Defense Against the Dark Arts, you git," you shot back, trying to keep your tone serious, though the corner of your mouth betrayed you by curling upward.

George chuckled, unfazed, his arm still resting comfortably around you as if it belonged there.  

"Well, it’s a shame," he said with a mock sigh, "because I was hoping for some juicy plot twists."

The two of you exchanged playful banter, a dance you both knew well. George always had a way of disarming you, his easy charm and effortless humor breaking through your concentration no matter how hard you tried to focus. But what you didn’t notice was the way a group of first-year students huddled nearby, whispering behind cupped hands as they shot glances in your direction.

"I swear they’re dating, right?" one of the younger students murmured, her wide eyes darting between you and George. "They’re always like that."

"Definitely," her friend agreed, nodding vigorously. "I mean, look how comfortable they are together."

You didn’t hear their words, but you could feel the curious eyes on you. George seemed completely unfazed, still leaning against you as he pretended to be deeply interested in the contents of your textbook. He was so close you could smell the faint scent of broomstick polish and the lingering aroma of dinner on him.

"You know, if you’re going to keep pestering me, you could at least try to be useful," you quipped, closing the book with a decisive thud and turning to meet his gaze. 

George’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he shrugged, finally releasing his hold on your shoulders but not before giving them a gentle squeeze.  

"Useful? I thought I was here for moral support," he said with a mock-serious tone, pressing a hand to his chest as if deeply offended.

"Moral support, my arse," you muttered, though you couldn’t help but laugh. It was always like this with George—easy, comfortable, full of light-hearted teasing that made everything else fade away, if only for a moment.

But as you shared this lighthearted moment, the whispers around the common room grew louder. The younger students weren’t the only ones who had noticed the way George leaned into you, or the way your eyes lit up whenever he was around. A few Gryffindors near the fireplace exchanged knowing glances, nudging each other with grins that said, I told you so.

Unaware of the spreading gossip, you gathered your things, preparing to leave.  

"Alright, Weasley, if you’re not going to help, at least don’t distract me," you said, standing up and slinging your bag over your shoulder.

George gave you a mock salute, still grinning.  

"Aye, aye, captain. But you know where to find me if you need more... moral support." He winked, causing a fresh wave of giggles from the onlookers.

As you turned to head toward the girls’ dormitory, you couldn’t shake the feeling that half the room was watching your every move. You shot a quick, confused glance around the room, but everyone seemed to quickly turn back to their conversations. 

With a final wave over your shoulder, you made your way up the stairs, George’s playful words still ringing in your ears. What you didn’t realize was that, in your wake, the rumors were already beginning to spread, the whispers of a budding romance between you and George Weasley taking on a life of their own.

Because to everyone else, the way he looked at you, the way he lingered just a bit too long, was all the proof they needed.

The Gryffindor common room continued to buzz with activity, the sound of chatter and laughter blending into a comforting hum. You were halfway up the stairs when you heard a familiar voice call out to you, stopping you in your tracks. 

"Hey, wait up!" George’s voice rang out, filled with that unmistakable tone of mischief. You turned, eyebrow raised, as he strolled toward you, that all-too-familiar grin already spreading across his face.

He tilted his head slightly, leaning in closer, his eyes glinting with amusement.  

"Did you hear that?" he whispered, though not quite softly enough to be discreet. His eyes flicked toward the group of first-years who were still gathered nearby, their heads bent close as they whispered furiously. 

You smirked, already knowing exactly where this was headed. George’s mischievous grin was enough to clue you in on what he had overheard, and you couldn’t help but play along. You tilted your head, giving him a knowing look.  

"Shall we give them something to talk about?" you asked, your voice dripping with mock seriousness.

George’s grin widened, his eyes lighting up with delight. He turned slightly, his posture shifting as he leaned in even closer, his lips brushing against your ear. His voice was just loud enough for the nearby students to hear, carrying easily across the room.  

"So," he began, his tone smooth, "when are we announcing our relationship to everyone, love?"

The word "love" made your heart skip a beat, but you quickly masked it with an exaggerated, dramatic sigh, rolling your eyes for good measure.  

"Oh, George," you replied, loud enough for the eavesdroppers, "you know I can’t commit until you finally get me that pet Niffler you promised."

George chuckled, his eyes sparkling as he straightened up, clearly enjoying the performance. The group of first-year students let out a collective gasp, their eyes going wide as they turned to each other, whispering even more furiously. It was as if they’d just stumbled upon the juiciest piece of gossip in the entire castle.

You exchanged a quick glance with George, and that was all it took for the two of you to burst into laughter. As George lifted his hand, you gave him a secret high-five, the two of you trying to keep your faces straight even as you fought back laughter.

The younger students were practically vibrating with excitement, their eyes wide as they shot glances your way. They clearly couldn’t believe they’d just witnessed what they thought was the confirmation of Gryffindor’s newest romance.

George nudged you playfully with his elbow, his eyes still glinting with mischief.  

"Think they bought it?" he asked, his voice low, meant just for you.

You shrugged, smirking.  

"Oh, definitely," you said, stealing a glance at the group. They were still staring, practically on the edge of their seats. "But you do realize you’re going to have to keep this up now, right? They’re going to expect some very public displays of affection."

George sighed dramatically, placing a hand over his heart.  

"Ah, the things I do for love," he said, a mock expression of suffering on his face.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up inside you.  

"You’re impossible, Weasley."

"And yet, you still put up with me," he shot back, his grin widening.

You shook your head, the two of you turning back toward the common room. As you walked back together, you exchanged glances, trying to hold back your laughter while the whispers continued behind you, growing louder with each passing second. 

If they’re going to make assumptions, we might as well have some fun with it.

It wasn’t like this was anything new—people had been making comments about you and George for years. The only difference now was that you both decided to lean into it. Besides, the looks on the younger students’ faces had been priceless. And the best part? You knew George well enough to know that this was just the beginning.

As you settled back into the common room, George flopped down beside you, his arm draped casually across the back of the sofa, brushing against your shoulder. He winked at you, his expression still filled with that familiar mischief. 

"So, about that Niffler," he said, his voice teasing. "Do I actually have to track one down, or will a chocolate frog do the trick?"

You let out a groan, swatting at his arm.  

"Keep dreaming, Weasley."

But even as you rolled your eyes, you couldn’t deny the warmth that spread through your chest. There was something about George—the way he made everything feel lighter, like it was all just a big joke you could laugh your way through—that made all the rumors, all the whispers, feel a lot less daunting.

And as the fire crackled softly beside you, the two of you settled back into the couch, the rest of the common room slowly fading into the background. Whatever the rest of the castle thought, whatever assumptions they made—you didn’t really mind. Because in this moment, surrounded by warmth and laughter, there was nowhere else you’d rather be.

The dungeon classroom was dimly lit, the flickering light from the torches casting long, wavering shadows across the damp stone walls. The heavy scent of bubbling concoctions filled the air, mingling with the cool, musty smell of the underground chamber. Students were hunched over their cauldrons, trying their best to follow the complicated instructions on the blackboard while avoiding the ever-watchful gaze of Professor Snape.

You and George had been paired together for the double Potions lesson, a decision that, quite frankly, had likely been made to punish the both of you. Snape’s disapproving glare seemed to linger longer on your table, as if expecting something disastrous to happen any second.

"Darling," George said, his voice pitched loud enough for the students nearby to hear, "would you pass me the powdered asphodel?" He shot you a flirtatious grin, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

You couldn’t help but play along, feeling the amused glances from your fellow Gryffindors and the irritated stares from the Slytherins. You let out an exaggerated sigh, clasping your hands to your chest as if overwhelmed by his request.  

"Anything for you, dear," you replied, handing him the jar with a flourish, trying to suppress the giggle that bubbled up inside you.

As George began measuring the powdered asphodel into your cauldron, you heard a low, annoyed mutter from the next table.  

"Can they get a room already?" Draco Malfoy grumbled to Blaise Zabini, his voice dripping with disdain.

George’s grin widened. He leaned closer to you, his voice loud enough for the entire dungeon to hear.  

"Oh, did you hear that?" he said, winking at you. "Seems we’re making some people jealous."

A chorus of groans erupted from the Slytherin side of the room, their expressions ranging from disgusted to bored. You could see Pansy Parkinson roll her eyes dramatically, while Blaise just shook his head in exasperation. 

But George was in his element now, thoroughly enjoying the reactions. You tried to focus on your potion, but George’s infectious energy was impossible to resist. Just as he leaned in to whisper another teasing comment, the air around you seemed to drop a few degrees.

"If you two are quite finished with your nauseating display," came the unmistakable, cold drawl of Professor Snape from directly behind you. You both froze, George’s grin faltering slightly as you turned to face your Potions master. Snape’s dark eyes were narrowed into thin slits, his expression one of pure annoyance.  

"Perhaps you could focus on your potion before you turn the entire class into frogs," Snape continued, his tone dripping with disdain.

George, however, was not one to be intimidated so easily. With a mock-serious expression, he straightened up and gave Snape a cheeky salute.  

"Anything for you, Professor," he said, his voice smooth and confident. "But I must warn you, my lady here has stolen my heart, and I fear I’m distracted."

You bit down hard on your lip to keep from laughing, your shoulders shaking slightly as you tried to maintain some semblance of composure. Snape’s expression, however, was as stony as ever.  

"Ten points from Gryffindor," he said coldly, not missing a beat, before turning sharply on his heel and sweeping away like an ominous shadow.

As soon as Snape was out of earshot, George turned to you with an exaggerated look of shock, clutching his chest.  

"My, my, ten points," he said with mock horror. "Who knew our love was so costly?"

You couldn’t hold back your laughter this time, the sound escaping you in a bright burst that drew a few curious glances from your fellow Gryffindors.  

"You’re impossible," you muttered, shaking your head as you stirred your potion, trying to salvage whatever focus you had left.

The rest of the class passed in a blur of suppressed giggles and exaggerated sighs. George made a point of calling you “darling” and “love” every chance he got, much to the annoyance of the Slytherins. But despite Snape’s glares and the occasional warning, you managed to finish your potion without blowing anything up—a success, given the circumstances.

As the bell rang, signaling the end of the lesson, you gathered your things and made your way toward the door with George beside you. The dungeon was slowly emptying, students hurrying to escape Snape’s oppressive presence.

"Ten points, really?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at George as you nudged him with your elbow. "Was it worth it?"

George turned to you with that familiar, mischievous grin that made your heart do a little flip.  

"Absolutely," he replied, not missing a beat. "Besides, we’re just getting started. I have plenty more where that came from."

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head as the two of you ascended the stairs, leaving the cold, dark dungeon behind.  

"You’re going to get us both into trouble," you warned, though there was no real heat behind your words. 

"Ah, but you love it," George teased, nudging you with his shoulder as you reached the top of the stairs. The light from the corridor above was warm and inviting, a stark contrast to the gloomy dungeons below.

And you couldn’t deny it. The playful banter, the shared glances, the way George’s laughter made everything seem lighter—it was all worth it. If they were going to keep spreading rumors, you might as well enjoy yourselves in the process.

As you walked side by side, the castle alive with the sounds of students heading to their next class, you couldn’t help but feel a little thrill of excitement. Whatever was brewing between you and George—whether it was real or just an elaborate game—one thing was certain: this was only the beginning. 

And if George had anything to say about it, he’d make sure it was a story that the entire school would be talking about for weeks to come.

Hogsmeade was bustling with life, the crisp chill of the late autumn air biting at your cheeks as students wandered between shops, their breath visible in the cold air. The village was alive with laughter, the scent of fresh pastries wafting from Honeydukes, and the sound of cheerful chatter filling the cobbled streets. 

You and George had decided to take your little act outside the confines of the castle, fully committing to the role of Hogwarts' most outrageous couple. As you strolled down the main street, George’s arm was looped securely through yours, his warmth a pleasant contrast to the chilly breeze. Every now and then, he’d lean in close, murmuring playful comments that sent you into fits of laughter.

As you passed by The Three Broomsticks, you couldn’t help but notice a couple of Ravenclaw students nudging each other and pointing in your direction, their eyes wide with curiosity. George, ever the performer, turned to you with an exaggeratedly swooning expression.

"Oh, darling," he drawled dramatically, making sure his voice carried just enough to be overheard, "shall we grab a Butterbeer? My heart longs to share a drink with you."

You nodded enthusiastically, your eyes sparkling with mischief as you played along.  

"Yes, my love," you replied in a breathy tone, "but only if you promise to share it with me. You know how I adore drinking from your cup."

The Ravenclaws’ jaws practically dropped, their whispers turning into full-blown speculation. You could hear snippets of their conversation as you and George continued on your way, barely containing your giggles.

The two of you ducked into The Three Broomsticks, the warmth of the pub enveloping you instantly. George guided you to a corner table, where you ordered a single Butterbeer. When it arrived, George made a show of taking a sip before passing it to you with a flourish. 

"A sip for you, my beloved," he said, leaning back with a satisfied grin.

You took the mug, holding his gaze with a dramatic sigh.  

"Oh, George, you’re too good to me," you said, taking a long, exaggerated sip as you locked eyes with him, both of you trying not to burst into laughter.

As you left the pub, cheeks warm from the Butterbeer and the laughter, you turned the corner and nearly collided with two familiar faces: Fred Weasley and Lee Jordan. They were lingering near the entrance to Zonko’s Joke Shop, their eyes widening in surprise as they took in the sight of you and George, still walking arm in arm.

"Well, well," Fred said, raising an eyebrow with a smirk. "So, it’s official, then? Hogwarts’ newest couple?"

George’s grin widened, and without missing a beat, he threw an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in close.  

"Jealous, brother?" he teased, his tone dripping with mock arrogance. "She’s finally realized I’m the better-looking twin."

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, playing along with an exaggerated sigh as you patted George’s cheek.  

"I settled for him, Fred. Sorry," you said with a wink, earning a burst of laughter from Fred.

Lee Jordan shook his head, a grin spreading across his face.  

"You two are absolutely insufferable," he said, crossing his arms as he watched the two of you with a mix of amusement and exasperation. "But I have to admit, it’s entertaining."

George shrugged, unfazed.  

"We aim to please," he said, giving you a quick wink that sent another round of giggles through you.

Fred, ever the curious one, leaned in a bit closer, his eyes narrowing playfully.  

"So, how long is this charade going to last?" he asked, his voice low enough so that only the four of you could hear.

You and George exchanged a quick, conspiratorial glance before turning back to Fred and Lee.  

"Who says it’s a charade?" you said with a sly smile, raising an eyebrow.

George nodded in agreement, squeezing your shoulders with a grin.  

"Maybe it’s real," he said with a tone of mock seriousness that had you biting your lip to keep from laughing. "Maybe I’ve won her over with my undeniable charm."

Fred snorted, shaking his head in disbelief.  

"Well, if that’s the case, you’d better treat her right, or I’ll have to step in," he said, giving George a friendly shove.

"You wish, Fred," you teased, wagging a finger at him. "You missed your chance. I’m afraid George has stolen my heart."

Lee threw his hands up in mock surrender, his laughter blending with the sounds of the bustling village around you.  

"Alright, alright, I can’t take any more of this lovey-dovey nonsense," he said, shaking his head. "You two are a menace to society."

As you all laughed, the tension that had built up from pretending to be a couple for the entire afternoon began to ease, and you realized just how much you were enjoying this little game with George. There was a thrill in it—a spark that made your heart beat just a bit faster whenever he leaned in close or threw you one of his mischievous grins.

As Fred and Lee waved goodbye, heading off toward Honeydukes, George turned to you, his smile softening just a touch now that you were alone again. The playful act you’d been putting on all day had been fun, but there was something different in his eyes now—something that made your stomach flutter.

"So," he said, his voice low and teasing, "should we keep this up, or do you think we’ve caused enough chaos for one day?"

You pretended to think about it, tapping your chin thoughtfully.  

"Hmm, well, I suppose we could stop... but where’s the fun in that?" you replied, grinning up at him.

George’s eyes lit up, his grin turning into a full-on laugh as he leaned in closer.  

"That’s the spirit," he said, his voice a soft whisper against your ear. "Let’s see how long we can keep them guessing."

As you walked through Hogsmeade, arm in arm once more, the crisp air biting at your cheeks, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. What had started as a silly game to mess with the rumor mill had turned into something that made your heart race in a way you hadn’t expected.

And with George by your side, you knew that the fun was only just beginning.

The Gryffindor stands were a sea of red and gold, students cheering at the top of their lungs as the players zoomed overhead. The sound of roaring chants and the blare of magical trumpets filled the air, making the crisp afternoon even more electric. The match against Ravenclaw was in full swing, and the Gryffindor team was putting on a spectacular show.

You stood near the front of the stands, a homemade banner clutched tightly in your hands. The words “GO GEORGE! ❤️” glittered in bright red and gold, the enchanted letters shimmering under the afternoon sun. You had spent hours on it, determined to make it as eye-catching as possible. After all, if you were going to commit to this act, you might as well go all out.

As George zoomed by on his broom, his eyes scanning the stands, you cupped your hands around your mouth and yelled at the top of your lungs,  

"That’s my boyfriend!"

A few students around you gasped, some even clapping in response, their eyes widening in surprise. The bold declaration seemed to send a ripple through the crowd, the whispers starting up almost immediately. You could practically feel the rumor mill turning as your voice carried over the noise of the match.

Up in the air, George turned his head toward you, a grin spreading across his face as he caught sight of your enthusiastic display. Next to him, Fred shook his head in mock exasperation, leaning closer to his twin as they dodged a speeding Bludger.

"Merlin’s sake, George," Fred called out over the roar of the crowd, "you’ve got her whipped."

George just laughed, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he shot you a wink before racing off to intercept a Ravenclaw Chaser. Your heart did a little flip, but you quickly reminded yourself that it was all part of the game—the act you two had been putting on for weeks now. Still, there was something thrilling about seeing him smile like that, knowing it was because of you.

The game continued with Gryffindor dominating the pitch, and the stands were filled with cheers when the final whistle blew. Gryffindor had won, and the entire house erupted into joyous celebration. Scarlet and gold confetti rained down from above, enchanted by some particularly enthusiastic seventh-years, and the sound of victory chants filled the air.

You were making your way down from the stands when George appeared out of nowhere, still in his Quidditch gear, his face flushed from the cold air and the thrill of victory. Without warning, he sprinted toward you, scooping you up into his arms and spinning you around.

"Anything for my biggest fan!" he shouted, his voice full of laughter as he spun you in circles. The students around you erupted into cheers and wolf whistles, only adding to the frenzy. You could hear snippets of conversations—“I knew they were together!” and “Did you see that? They’re so cute!”

As he set you down, you were both breathless from laughter. George leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear so that only you could hear him over the noise.  

"I think we’ve convinced the entire school by now," you whispered, your breath warm against his cheek.

George’s grin was wicked, his eyes gleaming with delight.  

"Oh, we’re not stopping yet," he replied, his voice a low, teasing murmur that sent a shiver down your spine. He pulled back slightly to look at you, his gaze lingering on your face longer than necessary, and for a moment, the world seemed to fall away. 

You could feel your cheeks heating up under his intense gaze, but you refused to back down, raising an eyebrow.  

"You do realize this act might come back to bite you, Weasley," you teased, unable to stop the grin that was tugging at your lips.

He shrugged, completely unfazed.  

"Worth it," he said simply, giving you that lopsided smile that always made your heart race. "Besides, if I get to see you cheering like that every match, I’d say it’s a fair trade."

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the warmth that spread through your chest.  

"Fine," you said, poking him playfully in the chest. "But don’t think this means I’m making another banner for the next match."

"We’ll see about that," George replied, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. 

The Gryffindor team began making their way off the pitch, but George stayed by your side, his arm draped casually around your shoulders as if it were the most natural thing in the world. The two of you strolled back toward the castle, the cheers and celebrations fading into the background.

You couldn’t help but steal a glance up at him, your heart doing that annoying fluttering thing again. What had started as a joke—a way to mess with the gossip mill—was starting to feel... real. But you pushed that thought aside. This was George, after all. Your best friend, your partner in crime. Surely, this was all just part of the act.

But as you walked back together, surrounded by the glow of a Gryffindor victory and the laughter of your friends, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, there was something more to the way George was looking at you now. 

And if there wasn’t? Well, you’d cross that bridge when you got to it. For now, you were content to bask in the warmth of the moment, George’s arm around you, and the thrill of knowing that whatever came next, you’d face it together.

Because if there was one thing you were sure of, it was that with George Weasley by your side, life would never be boring.

Professor McGonagall’s office was as imposing as ever, with its high ceilings, dark wooden furniture, and the ever-present scent of parchment and ink. The sunlight streaming through the tall windows did little to soften the stern atmosphere. As you and George sat side by side in the stiff, uncomfortable chairs facing her desk, you couldn’t help but feel like two children caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

Professor McGonagall sat behind her desk, her eyes sharp as she looked over her spectacles, fixing the two of you with a gaze that could rival a hawk’s. Despite her stern demeanor, there was a flicker of something in her eyes—something that looked suspiciously like amusement.

"I’ve received multiple reports," she began, her tone clipped and no-nonsense, "that you two have been... distracting the other students."

You could feel George shift beside you, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw him lean forward, his signature grin already forming.  

"Just spreading a little love, Professor," George said with a wink, his voice smooth and confident. 

You bit back a laugh, trying to keep a straight face as McGonagall’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. But there was no stopping George once he got started. He was in his element, charming and cheeky as ever, and you could tell he was enjoying every second of this.

Not wanting to be left out of the fun, you nodded earnestly, turning your best innocent expression toward McGonagall.  

"It’s all in good fun, Professor," you chimed in, your voice as sweet as honey. "We promise we’ll behave."

McGonagall’s lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes darting between the two of you. For a moment, the silence in the room was so heavy you could practically hear the tick of the clock on her wall. But then, the corners of her mouth twitched, just the tiniest bit, as if she were fighting a smile. 

"You two," she said slowly, adjusting her spectacles, "are a menace." She let out a long, suffering sigh, but there was no mistaking the hint of amusement in her eyes now.  

"While I understand that... enthusiasm is to be expected from Gryffindors, I would appreciate it if you could channel that energy into your studies, rather than—" she paused, searching for the right word, "public displays."

George shot you a triumphant look, his grin widening.  

"See, love," he said, nudging you playfully, "even Professor McGonagall can’t resist our charm."

You rolled your eyes, nudging him back.  

"Careful, Weasley," you muttered under your breath, "or she’ll deduct even more points from Gryffindor."

McGonagall cleared her throat pointedly, drawing your attention back to her.  

"If you two are quite finished," she said, though the slight quirk of her lips betrayed her struggle to maintain her stern demeanor, "I suggest you remember that not all of your professors are as... lenient as I am."

You both nodded quickly, trying to look as repentant as possible.  

"Of course, Professor," you said, putting on your most serious face. "We’ll be on our best behavior from now on."

"Scout’s honor," George added, raising his hand in a mock salute.

McGonagall’s eyes narrowed once more, though there was a lightness to her gaze that hadn’t been there at the beginning of your little meeting. She let out a soft, almost inaudible sigh, then leaned back in her chair.

"See that you do," she said finally, her tone firm but not unkind. "I don’t want to hear any more complaints from the staff... or the students."

As she dismissed you with a wave of her hand, you and George quickly stood, practically tripping over each other in your eagerness to escape before she changed her mind. The door closed behind you with a quiet click, and the two of you exchanged a quick glance before bursting into laughter as you made your way down the corridor.

"Spreading a little love, huh?" you teased, giving George a playful shove as you walked. "I’m pretty sure McGonagall almost turned you into a toad back there."

George shrugged, his grin as wide as ever.  

"Worth it," he said with a wink. "Besides, I’m pretty sure we got her to smile. That’s a win in my book."

You laughed, shaking your head in disbelief.  

"You’re ridiculous, Weasley," you said, though the fondness in your voice was impossible to hide.

He threw an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as you walked down the corridor together.  

"Ah, but you love it," he teased, giving you a sidelong glance. 

You didn’t deny it. Because as infuriating as George could be, there was something undeniably fun about the way he could turn even a stern lecture into a shared adventure. And as you walked back toward the Gryffindor common room, still giggling like first-years, you realized that maybe, just maybe, this little act you two had started wasn’t entirely an act anymore.

Whatever it was, it was yours, and you weren’t ready for it to end anytime soon. 

Because with George Weasley by your side, life was always an adventure—one that you were more than happy to keep going on.

The empty classroom near the dungeons was dimly lit, the dusty air carrying the faint scent of old parchment and forgotten potions. It was the perfect spot for a bit of mischief, away from the prying eyes of teachers and prefects. The corridor just outside was bustling with students heading to their next classes, and the faint echo of footsteps filled the air.

You and George stood just inside the doorway, exchanging a quick, conspiratorial glance. This was it—your most dramatic performance yet. The plan was simple but brilliant: stage a fake argument, draw in an audience, and watch the confusion unfold. It was George’s idea, naturally, but you had been more than happy to play along.

The moment you heard the sound of approaching footsteps, George leapt into action, staggering out into the corridor with all the subtlety of a theater actor in his prime.  

"How could you betray me like this?!" he bellowed, his voice carrying down the corridor. He clutched his chest dramatically and, to your utter delight, dropped to his knees as if he’d been struck by a curse.

A group of Slytherins passing by froze in their tracks, eyes wide as they turned to watch the scene unfold. You had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing, but you quickly composed yourself, crossing your arms and fixing George with a glare that could have melted ice.

"You brought this upon yourself, George," you retorted, your voice dripping with mock fury. "You never appreciated me!"

George’s eyes widened, and he raised his hands to the sky as if appealing to some higher power.  

"But, darling," he cried out, his voice filled with exaggerated despair, "after everything we’ve been through! You’re tearing my heart to pieces!"

The Slytherins exchanged bewildered looks, clearly torn between staying to watch the drama and hurrying to their next class. You could hear a few muffled snickers and even a couple of gasps as George continued his over-the-top performance, crawling a few inches closer to you on his knees.

"It’s too late, George!" you declared, turning your back on him with a dramatic flick of your hair. "You’ve made your choice. Now live with it!"

George, not missing a beat, threw himself onto the cold stone floor, reaching out toward you with one hand as if he were in some tragic love story.  

"Don’t leave me!" he shouted, his voice cracking with faux emotion. "I can change, I swear it!"

The Slytherins were now fully invested. A few had even stopped in their tracks to watch the spectacle, their eyes darting between you and George like they were watching the latest drama unfold in the Great Hall. 

But as soon as the last of the Slytherins turned the corner, their laughter and whispers fading into the distance, you and George burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the now-empty corridor. 

"Did you see their faces?" George gasped between bouts of laughter, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. "I swear I saw Blaise Zabini almost choke on his own tongue!"

You leaned against the wall for support, your sides aching from laughing so hard.  

"Honestly, George," you managed to get out, still giggling, "I think you missed your calling as a professional actor."

George grinned, standing up and brushing the dust off his knees.  

"Well, what can I say? I’m a man of many talents," he replied with a wink. 

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face.  

"If only you used your powers for good," you teased, nudging him playfully with your shoulder.

"Ah, but where’s the fun in that?" he shot back, his grin widening. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Besides, it’s a lot more entertaining to keep them guessing, don’t you think?"

You had to admit, he had a point. Stirring up the rumor mill and playing off the assumptions everyone made about the two of you had become a game—one that you were both enjoying far more than you cared to admit.

As you both gathered yourselves, preparing to head to your next class, George reached out and grabbed your hand, giving it a quick squeeze.  

"Thanks for playing along," he said, his tone softer now, the mischief in his eyes giving way to something warmer. 

You squeezed his hand back, your smile turning genuine.  

"Always," you replied. 

The two of you walked down the corridor side by side, the sounds of the school day resuming around you. Whatever chaos and rumors you had stirred up today, it was worth it—for the laughter, the shared glances, and the unspoken connection that seemed to grow stronger with each new prank.

Because as much as it was all a game, there was a part of you that was starting to wonder if maybe, just maybe, there was something real beneath all the teasing and the jokes. 

And if George’s lingering gaze and the way his hand lingered in yours were any indication, you weren’t the only one thinking it. 

The Gryffindor common room was dimly lit, the soft glow from the dying embers in the fireplace casting a warm, flickering light over the room. Most students had already gone to bed, leaving the space quiet and peaceful. The usual hustle and bustle had faded to a comforting hush, the only sound the occasional crackle from the hearth.

You and George were sitting together on one of the overstuffed sofas, still riding the high from your latest prank in the dungeons. The two of you were talking in hushed voices, trying not to wake the stragglers dozing by the fire. It was one of those rare, calm moments where you could actually catch your breath and just enjoy each other’s company.

But that peace was short-lived. 

Fred and Lee Jordan appeared seemingly out of nowhere, their expressions a mix of exasperation and amusement. They cornered you and George like two parents about to scold their mischievous children. Fred crossed his arms over his chest, while Lee leaned casually against the back of the sofa, his eyebrows raised in mock seriousness.

"Alright, you two," Lee began, his voice low but firm. "You’ve fooled the entire school. So, are you secretly dating, or are you just completely mad?"

You exchanged a quick, mischievous glance with George, the unspoken challenge clear in both your eyes. There was no need for words between you—it was as if you could read each other’s minds. George leaned back with that trademark grin of his, looking as relaxed as ever. 

"Nope," he said, the grin spreading wider as he looked from Lee to Fred. "Just having the time of our lives."

Fred groaned, running a hand through his hair.  

"You two are absolutely ridiculous," he said, shaking his head in disbelief. "Honestly, how long do you think you can keep this up before someone catches on?"

You shrugged nonchalantly, leaning into George’s side with a grin.  

"As long as it’s fun, I suppose," you replied, shooting Fred a playful wink. "After all, why stop now when we’ve got the whole school eating out of the palm of our hands?"

Lee let out a low chuckle, clearly trying to suppress a smile.  

"I’ve got to admit," he said, shaking his head, "I didn’t think you two could keep it going for this long. But I have to know... is it really all just a game?"

George tilted his head, pretending to consider the question as he draped an arm over your shoulders, pulling you in just a little closer.  

"A game?" he echoed, his tone playful. "Maybe. Or maybe we’re just too good at keeping secrets."

The way George’s fingers absentmindedly played with the ends of your hair sent a shiver down your spine, but you refused to let it show. You had to keep up the act, even if your heart was starting to betray you with how it skipped a beat whenever George looked at you like that.

Fred narrowed his eyes, clearly not convinced.  

"You’re both mad," he declared, though there was an unmistakable note of admiration in his voice. "But I’ll admit, it’s impressive. Even McGonagall seems to be buying it."

"Ah, but that’s the beauty of it, Fred," George replied, giving his brother a cheeky grin. "Why spoil the fun by admitting anything? As long as they keep guessing, we’re winning."

You couldn’t help but laugh at that.  

"Besides," you added, looking up at George with a playful smirk, "who’s to say what’s real and what’s not? Maybe even we don’t know anymore."

The way George’s eyes softened as he looked down at you made your heart flutter, but you quickly turned your attention back to Fred and Lee. Whatever was happening between you and George, it was yours to figure out in your own time. For now, you were content to let everyone else wonder.

Lee let out a dramatic sigh, pushing himself off the back of the sofa.  

"Well, whatever this is," he said, waving a hand between the two of you, "just know that half the school is rooting for you to end up together for real."

George just shrugged, his grin never faltering.  

"Let them root," he said with a wink. "We’ve got a good thing going here, don’t we, love?"

You nodded, playing along as you leaned your head against his shoulder.  

"The best," you agreed, your voice soft but filled with genuine affection.

Fred and Lee exchanged a knowing look before turning to leave, shaking their heads with exasperated smiles.  

"Alright, you two troublemakers," Fred called over his shoulder. "Just don’t get caught by Snape. I don’t fancy losing any more points for Gryffindor because of your little... escapades."

As they disappeared up the stairs, the common room fell quiet once more. George turned to you, his playful demeanor softening as he searched your eyes. 

"So," he murmured, his voice low, just for you, "think we convinced them?"

You laughed softly, shaking your head.  

"I think they’re just as confused as the rest of the school," you replied, meeting his gaze. "But that’s part of the fun, isn’t it?"

George’s smile faded into something softer, something almost vulnerable. For a moment, the line between what was real and what was pretend seemed to blur, and you couldn’t tell if the warmth in his eyes was just part of the act. 

"Yeah," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "I guess it is."

For a heartbeat, the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you, the flickering firelight casting dancing shadows across George’s freckled face. You could feel the unspoken question hanging between you, but neither of you was ready to answer it just yet.

Instead, you leaned into him, letting the comfortable warmth of his arm around you chase away the lingering doubts. Whatever this was—whether it was a game or something more—you were happy to keep playing along. Because for now, this felt good. This felt right.

And maybe, just maybe, you’d figure out the rest later. 

For now, you were content to let the rest of the castle wonder, while you enjoyed the comfortable closeness that came with being George Weasley’s partner in crime.

The Great Hall was buzzing with the usual morning chaos, the clatter of cutlery, the chatter of students, and the occasional hoot from the owls delivering the morning post. The long tables were filled with students eagerly digging into their breakfast, completely unaware that they were about to witness the culmination of a weeks-long prank.

You and George exchanged a conspiratorial grin as you stood near the entrance, ready to put an end to the elaborate charade that had kept the entire school guessing. With a quick nod, George took a deep breath, and with his signature grin plastered on his face, he climbed up onto the Gryffindor table, his goblet in hand.

The sound of metal clinking against glass cut through the noise, and heads turned, students pausing mid-bite to see what was happening. George cleared his throat dramatically, raising his goblet high above his head.

"Everyone! Attention, please!" he called out, his voice carrying across the hall. The usual hum of conversation quieted as every pair of eyes turned to him. You could see a mix of confusion, curiosity, and excitement on their faces as they wondered what George Weasley could possibly have up his sleeve this time.

Taking a deep breath, you joined him on the table, standing by his side as you looked out at the sea of expectant faces. The two of you had practiced this moment, and now it was time to deliver the punchline.

"We have an announcement to make!" George declared, his grin widening as he placed an arm around your shoulders. You could feel the tension in the room rising, everyone hanging on his every word. 

With a flourish, you took over, projecting your voice so everyone could hear.  

"We’re not dating," you announced, your voice carrying clearly across the hall. "It was all a prank."

For a moment, there was stunned silence. Then, the hall erupted into chaos—a mix of laughter, groans, and applause as the students realized they’d been had. Some of the Ravenclaws looked impressed, the Hufflepuffs shook their heads in disbelief, and the Slytherins wore expressions that ranged from amused to annoyed. 

Down at the Gryffindor table, Fred leaned back in his seat, clapping slowly with a grin stretching across his face.  

"Well played, you two," he called out, his voice carrying above the laughter. "Well played indeed."

Beside him, Lee Jordan was practically doubled over, clutching his stomach as he laughed.  

"You two are absolute legends," he managed to get out between gasps. 

As the applause died down, George hopped off the table and offered you his hand to help you down. The hall was still buzzing with laughter as students began to piece together all the ridiculous moments they had witnessed over the past few weeks. The way George had swooned over you, the staged arguments, the over-the-top displays of affection—it all made sense now.

As you made your way out of the Great Hall, George leaned in close, his voice low and teasing.  

"So," he said, nudging you playfully with his shoulder, "what’s our next act of chaos?"

You grinned up at him, your eyes sparkling with mischief.  

"Oh, I’ve got plenty of ideas," you replied, your voice full of promise. "Hogwarts isn’t ready for us."

George let out a laugh that was pure delight, the kind that made your heart skip a beat. He threw his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as you walked down the corridor together.  

"That’s my girl," he said with a proud grin. "Can’t wait, partner."

As the two of you strolled through the castle, the echoes of laughter and applause still ringing in your ears, you couldn’t help but feel a warm sense of satisfaction. What had started as a prank had turned into something so much more—something that had brought the two of you closer than ever before.

And as George’s arm tightened around your shoulders, you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, this partnership wasn’t entirely an act after all.

But that was a thought for another day. For now, you were content to enjoy the moment, knowing that whatever chaos came next, you and George would face it together—side by side, partners in crime, and maybe, just maybe, something more. 

Because with George Weasley by your side, every day was an adventure, and the best part? You were only just getting started.

[pottergff]

dress.

hjp x reader ! (hbp - 6th year).

summary: gryffindor wins a quidditch match, so everyone celebrates with a party in the common room. y/n gets drunk and becomes more flirtatious than usual with harry.

warnings: not really, just mention of alcohol and sexual references.

a/n: this is inspired by the song "dress" by taylor swift and i also mention the lyrics (english is not my native language, so sorry if there are any mistakes) anyways, this was really fun to write, so i hope you like it <3

Gryffindor had beaten Slytherin in the Quidditch final, and as usual, Fred and George had thrown a party in the common room.

"Harry's going to go crazy when he sees you like this, you look gorgeous." Ginny said as she applied a red lipstick that matched her hair. Hermione nodded as she smiled. You giggled as you fixed your dress in the mirror. "I hope so."

And it was true, that dress looked amazing on you. It showed off your curves, showing off your bare shoulders and legs. Not to mention how good the black color looked on you.

Now, it was barely 2am and you were already pretty drunk, you were susceptible to alcohol. The twins had offered you firewhiskey several times and you obviously didn't turn them down.

"Damn, he looks really hot" You muttered to Ginny and Hermione as you looked over your shoulder at Harry, who was leaning against a wall and talking to some guys from the Gryffindor team. "What?!" They said in unison confused, clearly not hearing you over the loud music. "Basically, I said I want Harry to fuck me!" You said much louder, even Ron who was next to you had heard you now.

Ginny almost choked on her drink, laughing at the comment. Hermione exclaimed an 'Oh My god!', laughing too. Ron widened his eyes and burst out laughing. "Frisky, are you? You're really drunk" Ron said a little surprised by your attitude, and raised his eyebrows. "Shut up, Ronald" You rolled your eyes, unable to hide a smile. "And why aren't you going to talk to him? He's getting on my nerves with his stares" Ginny added between giggles and with a bit of defiance in her voice, before taking another sip of her drink. "Should I?" You thought out loud and tilted your head. "Yep, You should" Hermione nodded with a small smile.

The night went on and Harry's eye contact became more and more frequent. Every time you talked you could feel the tension between you.

The relationship between you and Harry was strange. Since first year you became best friends. Only in the last time you weren't just that anymore, you had kissed a few times and both had confessed your obvious feelings for each other. But you weren't a couple either. You were something like "friends with benefits".

As your shoulder brushed against Harry's, you couldn't help but think about what Hermione said about talking to her. Harry noticed the way you looked at him and felt watched.

"W-what?" He said a little shy under your gaze. "Nothing. You look hot" You said as if it were nothing, shrugging your shoulders. Harry raised his eyebrows and smiled, amused by your nonsense. "You think so?". I nod. "Well, thank you. I'm flattered. That dress looks nice on you" He added the last sentence in a lower tone, still smiling at you.

Normally you were a pretty shy girl, at least with people you didn't know. But when you were drunk, you turned into the complete opposite, the embarrassment disappeared and you acted with less filter.

You smiled when he mentioned my dress. "Only bought this dress so you could take it off" You said casually. Even with the lights on, you could notice his blush and the way his eyes widened. You obviously noticed how nervous he got too. “Uhm.” Was all he could say as he licked his lips, looking at you a little dumbfounded.

You smiled widely and teased him, raising your eyebrows. “Uhm?” Harry snorted in amusement, with a small smile, and looked away. You gently took his chin so he looked back into your eyes, still smiling.

“Is that all you’re going to say?” You said a little softer, still smiling and holding his chin between your fingers. When your eyes met his, his expression softened although his flustered state increased. “Why did you say that?” Harry said, still with an amused smile. He was also a little drunk, but not as much as you. You smiled again and replied “Cause I don’t want you like a best friend.”

You no longer cared about the fact that your friends and classmates were probably watching you, you were too focused on Harry to care about anything else. The pining and anticipation inside you seemed to be the only thing that you feel right now.

"Me neither" Harry said in almost a whisper. Despite the music, we were so close that I could even feel his breathing at this point. "Then?" You murmured, noticing how his gaze shifted from your eyes to your lips and vice versa. "Then what?" He replied. You felt both of their breathing heavy, his breath against your face. "Kiss me" You whispered, and without letting him answer, you kissed him.

When his lips found yours, that feeling of butterflies fluttering in your stomach appeared, as it always happened when you were with him. You gently tugged on his shirt, drawing him even closer to you. The hand that was on his chin, quickly went to his jaw. His hands found your hips and he held you tightly, making you completely glued to him. That action made you let out a small gasp, which he took advantage of to deepen the kiss, sliding his tongue along your bottom lip. You followed him. His fingers tangled in your hair as he made the kiss deeper and even more heated.

After a few seconds, you separated, both of you panting from the lack of air and the intensity of the kiss. You couldn't help but smile as you admired him. His swollen lips, his raven hair messy in a perfectly imperfect way, his hands still holding you and a smile that mirrored yours. He looked beautiful, as as always.

We felt the gazes of our friends (even some classmates) and saw how they were all with their eyes wide open or with their jaws on the floor. We heard a 'Bloody Hell' from Ron. We both laughed.

Harry whispered in your ear, you heard his smile in his sarcastic tone. "I guess they don't know nothing about what happened." You smiled even wider and leaned in to whisper in his ear, smiling "Everyone thinks that they know us. But they know nothing about"

[blac-ivy]

One thing golden era Wattpad writers had going for them was that they knew the importance of a buildup. I'm of the opinion that the sexual tension is WAY more satisfying to read than the actual sex and quite frankly there is a serious lack of non smutty writing.

Like I really miss reading fics/ x readers that start from scratch. Meeting the characters, initial reactions getting to know them, the tension the jealousy the TENSION the freaking tension.

Looking and looking away when they get spotted, touches that feel like they linger but perhaps they didn't and they're both so hot for each other that they think it's wishful thinking. And I don't mean just sweet sunshine romances, darker works can have a buildup too but it seems like so much is just about getting to the smut instead of the psychological aspect.

Bring back the build up!!!!!!!