#harry pov

[dramatic-delirium]

I literally killed three people before I lost my memory and Kim's like "Oh atleast you weren't maxxing out your murder stats" GURL THAT NOT THE POINTTT T

[sitp-recs]

Hello! I saw your last rec for Draco being whipped for Harry. Would you have any recs for the reverse situation? Harry being absolutely smitten for Draco. I love when it's mostly from Harry POV and Draco is driving him mad. Does anything come to mind? Thank you for your lovely recs and your presence in the fandom, it's a blessing! 💜

Yes of course! I feel like I did quite a few lists for pining Harry so this one will focus on smitten Harry told from his own pov. I tried to mix old favorites with fics I don’t see recced often. I’d highly recommend checking @tackytigerfic, @bixgirl1 and ignatiustrout as they all explore this trope so beautifully!

Take A Stab At It by @sorrybutblog (E, 3k)

It’s a bit pathetic, Harry knows, to have a hard-on for the guy who bullied you in school. Kind of cliché to look back on years of obsession and hatred and think, Oh.

Hourglass Heart by bixgirl1 (E, 5k)

It only happened once — depending on how Harry counted.

Blue Sky Is Living Here Today by ignatiustrout (G, 5k)

Draco's a father, Harry's in love with him, and it's really hard to take things slow.

The Things They Never Say by bixgirl1 (E, 9k)

Harry and Draco don't know how to talk. So they do other things instead.

Sex Ed for Aurors by curiouslyfic (M, 9k)

Some things, you need to learn on the job.

i wake up falling, orphaned (M, 9k)

Draco’s always leaving, one way or another. Harry’s usually 240 thousand miles too late.

Poppiholla by @moonflower-rose (M, 12k)

Harry had accepted that he would pine silently for Malfoy forever, but one, humid summer might change that.

Take the Moon by tackytiger (M, 15k)

Harry Potter has always wanted a family of his own, and when a deadly blood curse forces him into a marriage bond with his best friend Draco Malfoy, it looks like he might just have found one. It's just a shame they’d always planned to break up after a year…

White as Snow by bixgirl1 (E, 19k)

After a quick escape from danger, Harry and Draco find themselves trapped in a blizzard, a small cabin their only refuge from the storm. It's the perfect place to recover and regroup — and to have a long-overdue conversation or two.

We Might Be Too Old for a Bildungsroman by @wellhalesbells (T, 21k)

Harry finds something he’s been looking for since the war’s end. Admittedly, the packaging’s a bit odder than he expected.

With Great Yawns and Stretchings by sugar_screw (T, 22k)

The coffee is very good. Really. And the cats are so cute. That's why Harry goes so often.

On Your Shore by @xanthippe74 (M, 35k)

Clearing out a remote house full of cursed collectibles in the Outer Hebrides? Not a problem for an experienced curse breaker like Harry Potter. Spending a week with the straight, happily-married man that he’s starting to have feelings for? And sharing a bed with him at night? Surely Harry can handle that, too.

LA, Who Am I To Love You? by @epitomereally (E, 42k)

Harry’s summer in LA is not going as expected. Pansy Parkinson keeps inviting him to parties in the Hollywood Hills and harassing him to finally go to the physical therapist, Blaise Zabini keeps slipping new strains of his company’s magical weed into Harry’s pockets in hopes of an endorsement, and Draco Malfoy keeps having sex with everyone but Harry.

Here's The Pencil, Make It Work by ignatiustrout (M, 49k)

Harry thinks "Why is Malfoy working in a coffee shop in muggle London?" is a much simpler question than, "Are you going to accept that auror offer and, if you don't, what will you do?"

Modern Love by tackytiger (E, 61k)

Harry Potter, of all people, knows that life isn’t always fair. And no one gets to be happy all of the time. But surely there’s something more—something better—than a rubbish Ministry job, and a lonely old house, and that feeling that everyone out there is doing a better job of living than Harry is.

Azoth by @lol-zeitgeistic (E, 88k)

Now that Harry is back at Hogwarts with Hermione for eighth year, he realises that something’s missing from his life, and it either has to do with Ron, his boggart, Snape, or Malfoy. Furthermore, what, exactly, does it mean when one’s life is defined by the desire to simultaneously impress and annoy a portrait?

What We Pretend We Can't See by gyzym (M, 131k)

Seven years out from the war, Harry learns the hard truth of old history: it’s never quite as far behind you as you thought.

Can't Sit Still by wilteddaisy (E, 193k)

Five years after the war, Harry finds himself drawn to Draco Malfoy by memories that aren't his own.

[sodamnradd]

Hermione emerged from Harry’s closet wearing nothing but his blazer.

“You know he’s never going to buy that.”

She unclasped her clip and ruffled her hair in the mirror, pinched her cheeks, slapped them until they pinked. Bit her lips. Pinched her thighs so they would bruise.

“Quick.” She pushed her hair to the side and tilted her head. “Give me a hickey.”

“No.” Harry reeled back.

“It’s not a big deal.”

“It’s a very big deal and I’m not—”

“Harry James Potter, put your mouth on my neck right now.”

“If Malfoy actually believes I did that to you, he’s going to…” he trailed off, because he didn’t know how Malfoy was going to react. But it would not end with a pat on the back and a ‘congratulations’. “I work with the guy.”

“Traitor.” Hermione rumpled the bedsheets.

“He’s not coming into my room.”

She ignored him.

“Just tell him you want to get back together.”

She hurled a pillow at his chest.

The sound of the fireplace made them freeze.

“Stop it, Harry!” Hermione started to giggle, making a soft, sultry moan Harry never wanted to hear from her mouth again.

“Potter?” Footsteps echoed down the hallway. Years of pure-blood etiquette made Malfoy one of the most well-behaved men Harry knew, so it was extremely out of character when he threw the door open, uninvited.

Malfoy came face to face with Hermione.

She swept her curls from her eyes and plastered on a freakishly convincing look of surprise.

Malfoy’s cold eyes darted from Hermione, semi-dressed. To Harry, who, luckily, was fully clothed and only slightly flushed from embarrassment.

He asked tightly, “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” she said at the same time Harry replied, “She’s trying to make you jealous.”

She glowered at him.

But Harry was looking at Malfoy. Noting the betrayal in his eyes. “She thinks you slept with someone. That’s why she’s been acting like this. I swear I didn’t touch her.”

“Harry!” Hermione cried.

Malfoy seemed torn, but he knew Harry well, and Hermione even better. The devastation on his face morphed into concern. “Granger?”

Hermione looked away, shoulders bunching up, arms crossed.

“Talk to me,” he pleaded.

She shot him a deadly look, and Harry was relieved not to be on the receiving end of it for once.

“I saw you go into that senator’s suite. Her hands were on you. Grabbing your tie, dragging you inside. She shut the door… You…” Her voice caught. “Came back hours later. Showered. Tried to… touch me."

Realising the truth, Harry opened his mouth to correct her assumptions, but Malfoy beat him to it. “You were gone the next morning because you thought—”

“I knew.”

“You thought,” he corrected her. “I slept with someone else and crawled back to you afterwards?”

She shrugged. “Older women have a certain allure. I saw how she looked at you.” She clutched Harry’s blazer, as if realizing how ridiculous she looked.

But Malfoy didn’t seem to find her ridiculous at all. His gaze raked down her chest, lingered on the swell of her breasts, her bare legs. “You have no idea how you… That you believed I would ever… When you’re…”

Harry had never witnessed Malfoy tongue-tied before.

“I know what I saw.” Hermione stepped back as Malfoy stepped forward.

“That woman was my assignment,” Harry interjected, even though they weren’t supposed to talk about open cases. But Hermione needed answers and Malfoy was useless. “I asked Malfoy to pretend he was spending the night with her as a safety precaution. He didn’t want to do it. But I was desperate.”

“I occasionally grant Potter favours. Though now I will expect many in return.” He shot Harry a telling look. “For a bloody long time.” Great.

Malfoy approached Hermione again, and this time she let him. He touched her cheek. So gentle, Harry wondered if Malfoy had been Polyjuiced. “There’s no one else, Granger. Ever.”

Hermione shut her eyes. Leaned into his palm. Malfoy lifted her chin. Stroked her hair. Murmured something against her lips. She kissed him. His hand trailed up her thigh. Beneath the blazer.

Harry shut the door behind him, making a mental note to ask Kreacher to change the sheets later and set the blazer on fire. He grimaced when he heard the bed squeak.

The first of many favors he now owed Draco sodding Malfoy.

(732 words, photo prompt from twitter)

[aniimamundi]

@microficmay

Day 2: Resplendent

You've seen him swathed in silk. Sunshine and celestial bodies reflected on alabaster skin. Diamonds and sapphires, a hundred refractive patterns under the sea. Pearls and gossamer, a marble statue exquisite and cold.

All gone.

A battlefield remains. Muddy robes and lank hair. Bruised cheek and battered knee. Covered in the blood of Death Eaters, wearing newfound courage and your love. He's never looked more resplendent.

[undercoverdrxco]

The first time Harry Potter had realized that his innocent, bookish ally, Hermione, had been sneaking around with their supposed enemy, Malfoy, it was by complete accident.

He had only been checking the marauders map to see if he could spot if Cho was wandering about with Cedric - they’d been a little too close and flirty lately and he was getting a little suspicious. But what he had found was even more suspicious. Suspicious enough that he left his worries of the whereabouts of his crush in the dust when finding that Hermione Granger’s name was severely close to Draco Malfoy’s as they occupied Snape’s potion closet.

Sure, Harry was aware that Hermione and Malfoy had been inconveniently paired up in their potions project, but Merlin, it was one a.m.

[realitybitesyouknowit]

Chapters: 5/5 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Harry Potter/Voldemort Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Harrymort - Freeform, Choking, Hilarity, mild violence, Moral Bankruptcy, Political Nonsense, General Nonsense Really, Sadism, of the sexual sort, Rimming, Dirty Talk, Desk Sex, Dumbledore is very disappointed Summary:

Draco is sure he accidentally touched one of his father's illegal artifacts and is hallucinating as a result. Why else would he be seeing Harry-Bloody-Potter prancing around his house with Lord-Bloody-Voldemort?

[handledwithgloves]

‘an ode to ron weasley’ by hermione jean granger 🩷

[tmvoldemort]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Harry Potter & Tom Riddle | Voldemort Characters: Harry Potter, Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Petunia Evans Dursley Additional Tags: Mild Blood, implied child birth scene, Dream Logic, Not Beta Read, Canon Universe, Unreliable Narrator, Child Neglect, Horror, Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix Summary:

Have you ever had a dream that you carry for years or even decades with you? Maybe after you wake up from it you clutch your head and laugh about its weirdness. Or shiver after fright. Or shake off the illogic that it could only have been in its own world. You forget about it like you always do as the day goes on. Maybe you even comment about it, if anyone cares to listen, but you forget it like most if not all of them. But then out of the blue, perhaps when you aren’t even on the topic of dreams it comes up.

Then there this dream. Lingering, noteworthy of them all, remains more like a memory.

Harry carries it with him unknowingly letting it crop up when he least expects it. Creeping in like Ivy leaves. Tickles his brains. Long before Hogwarts it was his. Even before he started having dreams where Voldemort starred in some form. 

[girllblogging777]

𝐴𝐹𝑇𝐸𝑅 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝑆𝑇𝑂𝑅𝑀.ೃ࿐

↳ bf!mattheo riddle x fem reader (slight angst ? fluff) requested by @ilovematteoxx ♡

↳ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 : 1.2k

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 : you can’t find your boyfriend after an argument, and the castle is surrounded by dementors

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

the argument had started over something small. ridiculously small, actually. you couldn’t even remember the details anymore, but somehow, the two of you had managed to let it escalate and before you knew it, mattheo and you were throwing sharp words like hexes.

your boyfriend, as loving as he was, had a way of getting under your skin sometimes. he was all about teasing smirks and cocky grins that usually made you laugh, but tonight you weren’t laughing. tonight, you were tired and on edge from a long week of classes and when he joked about you taking things too seriously, something inside of you snapped.

“not everyone has the luxury of not giving a damn, mattheo.” you’d answered with your arms crossed. “not everyone has parents who don’t care.”

the moment the words left your lips, you swore you could’ve felt the air shift. it was like time froze, everything suddenly stood still and went way too quiet. mattheo’s expression shifted, the usual soft gaze he saved for you disappearing. you saw how the hurt flickered in his dark eyes, before he quickly covered it with cold indifference.

“forget it,” he said sharply before walking out, turning his heel and disappearing out of the common room before you could even get a word out.

you stood there, frozen, the weight of your words slowly sinking in. merlin, you hadn’t meant it like that. in fact, you hadn’t meant to hurt him at all. but you had and now he was gone, and you didn’t even know where.

you couldn’t focus on anything for the rest of the evening and as wandered around the castle - silently hoping you’d bump into him around the corner - the hallways felt emptier than ever. dinner passed in a blur too. every time someone entered the great hall and sat down at the slytherin table, you quickly looked up, only to realise it wasn’t him.

you spent the rest of the night alone in your dorm, laying in bed and staring at the ceiling, trying and failing to get any sleep. your last conversation kept replaying in your head, what if you’d really hurt him this time ? what if he didn’t come back ? sure, mattheo had his walls, but he never stayed mad at you for long… your mind spiralled. outside the window, everything was dark and still. inside your heart, everything was twisted in knots.

and then, just as you were finally drifting off, a loud noise jolted you awake. it wasn’t just you either, you heard frantic footsteps outside your dorm, and voices raising as well. you sat up, heart pounding and confused. it wasn’t long before a frantic knock echoed through the door, and your best friend pansy came in.

“you have to get up, everyone is being taken to the great hall. now !” she said quickly. “what’s happening ?” you asked in a panicky tone as you got out of bed. “dementors,” she muttered, pulling you outside and rushing you to join the many students making their way through the dark halls. “they’ve been spotted outside.”

your heart skipped a beat. dementors.

the crowd of students rushed to the great hall, tension filling the air, already thick with worry and whispers. you scanned the faces around, searching for any signs of mattheo. but he wasn’t there. he wasn’t anywhere.

“pansy,” you breathed, tugging on her sleeve as realisation dawned on you. “i don’t see mattheo. where is he ?”

she shrugged, concern flickering in her eyes “don’t know, i haven’t seen him since this afternoon”

you swallowed hard, your chest tightening. where was he ? the last time you saw him was when he’d left after the argument, angry and hurt. what if he was outside when the dementors had left ? what if… what if the last thing you said to him was the stupid comment about his father ?

your breathing picked up and theo noticed it from across the room, before making his way over. “what’s going on ?” he asked with furrowed brows.

“i can’t find mattheo,” you whispered with a trembling voice. “we had a fight earlier and now he’s probably out there, and-“

theo exchanged a knowing look with pansy before cutting you off by gently pulling you into a reassuring side hug “he’s fine, amore. probably just running late, you know him, always slipping off to do merlin knows what.”

but you weren’t reassured. not when the castle was in lockdown. it when dementors were around. not when mattheo was nowhere to be seen, and the last thing he heard from you was something you didn’t mean.

“i didn’t mean it,” you whispered with regret. pansy rubbed your back to comfort you but it didn’t stop the tears from welling up in your eyes as you reached the great hall. the place was crowded with panicked students and teachers, but you still felt terribly alone in your world of fear.

“i shouldn’t have said it,” you choked out, wiping your eyes and ignoring the people running around and bumping into you. “i shouldn’t have-“

before you could finish, a heavy sound echoed through the hall. the giant wooden doors swung open with a gust of cold air, and every head turned toward the entrance.

mattheo stood in the doorway, along with some others students you didn’t even glance at. his curly hair was damp with the rain, and his robes slightly disheveled. he looked like he’d been through a storm, but he was there.

without thinking, you ran. you pushed through the crowd, not caring who you bumped into, your heart racing as you closed the distance between you. by the time you reached him, a tear had managed to roll down your cheek, but you didn’t care. you threw yourself into his arms, your hands fisting his robes as you breathed him in.

“mattheo,” you gasped, holding onto him like he might disappear. “i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean it, i swear i didn’t mean it.”

his arms came around you immediately, pulling you close, his chin resting on top of your head. “hey, hey, it’s okay,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “it’s okay, love. i’m not mad.”

you pulled back just enough to look up at him, your slightly red eyes searching his face. “you’re not?”

he shook his head, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. “no. i just… needed some time. but i’m not mad. i promise.”

you bit your lip, trying to stop the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm you again. “i thought—i thought something happened to you. i was so scared.”

mattheo’s gaze softened, and he wiped the tears away with his thumb. “i’m sorry i scared you. i shouldn’t have just left like that.”

you shook your head quickly, you knew your boyfriend’s habit of walking out during arguments was just to help manage his anger. it was something he’d started doing when he realised you were the only good thing in his life, and he didn’t want to take his negative feelings out on you.

“no, it’s my fault. i shouldn’t have said what i did.” he leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “it’s okay,” he whispered. “i’m here. i’m not walking away this time.”

for the first time that night, you felt the tightness in your chest ease. the panic, the fear, it all melted away in his arms, replaced by the steady, grounding warmth of his presence. “nice pajamas by the way,” he chuckled, and you rolled your eyes.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

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

[zipper-ghost]

Harry "can opener" du Bois

[zlarirosa]

[ old art ] he was rapidly becoming obsessed with draco malfoy...

[moonbread123-wattpad]

Y/n: I'm a badass feminist who doesn't need a man. Y/n: *steals Harry's hoodies* Y/n: *needs help opening bottles* Y/n: *needs constant attention*

Harry: I survived Voldemort as a baby, I'm the definition of independent. Harry: *needs cuddles to sleep* Harry: *constantly jealous of Y/n's plushies* Harry: *needs to be reminded that Y/n will not leave her for that really hot dickhead down the street*

[ultravioletbrit]

“absent” - Jegulus microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - 268 words

Sirius loves Hogsmeade weekends when the whole group gets together for lunch at the Three Broomsticks. He’s looking around the table at the smiling faces of all his friends when he realizes two faces are notably absent.

“Hey Marls. James walked down with you guys, right?” Sirius asks.

“He said he needed to stay back and work on new strategies for us to practice this week to use in the match next weekend.” Marlene explains.

Sirius furrows his eyebrows, but it does make sense. James is obsessive about Quidditch, and next weekend’s match is a big one.

“Oi! Crouch!” Sirius calls to the other end of the table. “Where’s Reggie?”

“Revising. He says he likes the library on Hogsmeade weekends because there’s nobody else there. Swot.” Barty says with an eye roll which Sirius returns.

Regulus hates noise and crowds when he studies so it makes sense that he would want to go to the library today.

Sirius shrugs it off and goes back to his lunch.

———

Sirius is sitting across from James at dinner when he notices a trail of love bites running down his neck.

“Prongs, are those hickeys?” Sirius gasps but before James can answer–

“Oi Reg!! Are those hickeys?!” They hear Barty yelling from across the hall.

James’ eyes go wide with fear and Sirius’ eyes narrow to a murderous glare.

“I err… I have to…” James stutters as he slowly stands up.

Once he’s on his feet, James sprints from the Great Hall with Sirius close behind him.

Just before the doors close, Sirius thinks he hears Regulus yell, “Please don’t kill him.” Which only makes Sirius run faster.

[starlingflight]

Prompt: Sirius being a massive Hinny shipper, please and thank you ♥️♥️♥️

This was supposed to be a drabble. Read below or on AO3 here:

He had first noticed it in the summer.

At first, Sirius had thought Harry to have a particularly strong affection for Crookshanks, a sentiment that Sirius only found wholly sensible and had not questioned further.

It had taken a few weeks to realise it was not the charming bandy-legged cat that Harry’s eyes were subconsciously following. Likewise, the cat wasn’t the recipient of an increasingly frequent number of silent, secretive shared smiles whenever someone was unfortunate enough to do something that garnered Harry’s amusement; no, the honour of that bestowment fell to the equally charming — and equally ginger — young lady who had devoted a great deal of her summer to entertaining Crookshanks.

Again, Sirius couldn’t find anything to disagree with in the object of Harry’s attention, indeed, his good opinion of Ginny had been formed immediately upon meeting her, when, one balmy evening, at the very beginning of summer, she had come bounding into Grimmauld Place’s dank kitchen, flashed a bright grin at Sirius across the old wooden table and declared, “It’s nice to meet you, but I don’t think much of your family’s choice in interior decoration.”

Sirius’ smile was no longer familiar to him, but it had risen easily at the sentiment. “Was it the house-elf heads that put you off?”

The girl's eyes had widened in alarm; her nose had wrinkled in distaste. “House-elf heads?”

“Ah, so you haven't taken a trip upstairs yet?”

With that scant piece of information, she'd turned on her heel and marched straight back out of the kitchen, a harried-looking Molly Weasley calling “for Heaven's sake, Ginny,” behind her, but Ginny had only continued striding her path, set on inspecting the most gruesome spectacles lining the hallways of Grimmauld Place.

Harry hadn’t arrived at the Order's gloomy headquarters until weeks later. By that time, everyone but Sirius seemed to have accepted the chafing captivity offered by his parents' old house with, if not good humour, a grudging attempt at it.

And then Sirius had found his already-conflicted emotions torn once more as he'd reckoned with exactly what the task James and Lily had charged him with really meant.

Protecting Harry, keeping him safe, giving him enough information to protect himself in the face of direct orders from Dumbledore and the teenaged ire being thrown at him across the dining room table from his beloved Godson; his guilt not eased by the scorn that was being directed at him from a perfect replica of Lily's eyes, ones that silently assured him he'd already failed, otherwise, he wouldn't be in this situation to begin with.

It wasn't a new guilt though, Sirius had been living with it for fourteen years now, and it was certainly a lighter burden than it had been all those interminable days locked up with the Dementors. Though he’d exchanged Azkaban for another prison, one he'd thought he'd escaped at age sixteen, at least there were moments of levity now.

There was the Weasley family's easy affection with one another, and their warmth which seemed to fill the frigid house despite its determination to remain unwelcoming. There were hearty dinners and good conversation, and a sense of community that, while welcome, made Sirius ache for the best friends he would never share a meal with again.

There was also Ginny's bright, unrestrained laughter and the way Harry seemed to seek it out. There was the way his Godson's eyes seemed to soften on the youngest of the Weasleys, an occurrence which accomplished the seemingly impossible task of making all traces of James disappear from his face, leaving only Lily.

If Harry was aware of Ginny’s effect on him, however, he did an excellent job of hiding it. None of Sirius’ thinly veiled attempts at suggestion yielded the desired results.

After one of Molly’s delicious — and uncomfortably filling — meals, Sirius had tried to broach the subject in as delicate a manner as possible.

“Ginny’s very funny,” he’d said quietly to Harry, leaning across the small expanse of table that separated them.

“Yeah,” Harry agreed absently, ducking to avoid the dessert bowl Fred had just summoned, and that had gone soaring wildly towards Harry’s head. “She’s a laugh.”

Without giving the matter any further consideration, Harry pushed his chair back from the table, apparently intent on following Ron, who was already heading for the door, and Sirius, who was glad to see Harry in a rare congenial mood where his friends were concerned, had no heart to try and stop him.

Yet Sirius was only deterred temporarily; house arrest did not offer many opportunities for entertainment, and he seized upon this one.

His next attempt to force the matter occurred just days later.

Molly, persisting in her crusade to wipe away years of rot and decay that Sirius privately thought was likely weaved into the very foundations of the house, had seen fit to direct Harry to clear out an ancient wardrobe in one of the guest bedrooms; Sirius immediately volunteered to join the endeavour.

“I think your mum had a hoarding problem,” Harry informed him, removing a sinister-looking, ghostly white Venetian mask from one of the shelves and tossing it unceremoniously into the rubbish bag awaiting at their feet.

Sirius hummed in agreement. “You know, Ginny made a similar observation — she wasn’t very taken with the decor.”

“I’d think there was something seriously wrong with her if she was.”

“But you don’t,” Sirius prompted with forced nonchalance.

“Don’t what?” Harry frowned down at the pair of ancient — and hideous — buckled shoes he’d just collected from the wardrobe floor.

“You don’t think there’s something seriously wrong with Ginny.”

“No,” Harry replied, brow still furrowed as he turned to look at Sirius directly. “Do you?”

“No, of course not!” Sirius waved away the accusation. “I think she’s a charming girl.”

“Right,” Harry discarded the shoes and began flicking through the dusty garments hanging from the rail.

Sirius waited a moment but no other thoughts came forth. He swallowed a sigh. “And you already agreed she’s funny.”

Harry’s only response to this reminder was a noncommittal hum and Sirius was forced to forge ahead without any assistance from his impervious Godson.

“The prank she played on Ron last night with the fake spider was very amusing.”

In truth, Sirius was being generous with this compliment. While he appreciated Ginny’s dedication to the bit, and her willingness to provoke her mother’s ire, he had some notes on how her practical application could be improved that he planned to share with her later.

“Ron didn’t think so,” Harry replied, giving away nothing of his opinion on the matter. “He made me check every inch of our room three times before he’d go to bed.”

“He needn’t be so worried,” Sirius replied. “Crookshanks is dedicated to the task of keeping the house pest-free.”

Harry shook his head, whether at Sirius’ reassurance or the ghastly acid-green lace robes he’d just removed from the wardrobe, it was impossible to say.

There was no opportunity to ask, for at that moment Molly’s voice came calling from the corridor outside the room, beckoning them down to yet another dinner where Sirius was forced to watch Harry’s eyes wander to Ginny with painful obliviousness.

This pattern continued for the rest of the summer holidays, a period that was woefully short and allowed Sirius no further chance to help Harry reach the obvious conclusion. Indeed, any attempts he did make were met with little more than teenaged grunts and abrupt changes of subject and before Sirius knew it, Harry was boarding the Hogwarts Express, Ginny was swallowed by a group of her friends on the crowded platform and even this simple self-given mission had evaded success.

After that passed interminably long, lonely months locked up in the drafty old house with nothing but the fleeting company of Order members flitting in and out; Sirius’ only constant companion was Kreacher, possibly the only being he considered worse company than a dementor.

Undoubtedly, Sirius had not considered himself overcome with festive spirit in the run-up to Christmas. Nor could he find himself cheerful at the circumstances that brought house guests to him for the holidays, but once it was ascertained that Arthur would survive the terrible attack he’d sustained at the hands — or rather, fangs — of Voldemort’s snake, Sirius could not deny himself glad of the company provided once more by Harry and the Weasley’s.

By the time New Year’s Eve rolled around, Sirius was in a rare state of high spirits.

Grimmauld Place remained stubbornly bleak but the festoons of holly and glittering ribbons he’d draped from every available surface — helped by Ginny who certainly proved she had more of an eye for decoration than most of Sirius’ relatives — went some way to brightening the place up; as did the spectacularly impressive fireworks Fred and George had set off around the house well before the clock had begun to approach midnight.

By chance, a small party had gathered in the kitchen owing to Remus and Tonks’ unexpected early return from a mission, and Kingsley’s appearance with a collection of bottles of Ogden’s, which were quickly passed around the adults.

“I’ll have mine to go,” Sirius said as Kingsley poured him a generous measure of the amber liquid. “I really should make sure Buckbeak’s settled before things get too raucous.”

“I can go,” Harry offered from beside Sirius as he leaned to collect one of the bottles of butterbeer Kingsley had brought for the kids. “I haven’t seen him much since I’ve been back.”

“We’ll come with you,” Hermione offered, popping the cap on her own bottle of butterbeer.

Before Harry could think to respond, he was cut off by a groan from Ron who had been surveying the platter of mince pies, sausage rolls and various other finger foods Molly had just set out on the table. “I was just about to eat,” he protested.

Hermione’s lips pursed in unimpressed exasperation but Sirius was already formulating a plan, prepared to seize an opportunity that had not presented itself since the kids had returned from Hogwarts.

“Ginny can go with you,” he said quickly, eyes fixed on Harry even as he raised his voice loud enough for Ginny to hear from the opposite side of the kitchen where she was presently occupied ensuring Crookshanks didn’t burn his paws as he attempted to bat at the still-whizzing fireworks. “Ginny, could you go and check on Buckbeak for me, please?”

Her response was immediate. She scooped Crookshanks up into her arms as she stood, nodding enthusiastically at the suggestion.

“I can go alone,” Harry protested sullenly. “No one is going to attack me between here and the landing.”

“Of course not,” Sirius agreed, waving away his protests with the hand still clutching his whiskey glass. “But you don’t want to be alone on New Year’s, do you?”

Harry shrugged nonchalantly. “I think I’d survive for ten minutes.”

“Yes,” Sirius continued as Ginny’s form grew closer in his peripheral vision. “But Ginny is excellent with Buckbeak — she’s very good with animals, have you noticed?”

Harry shrugged again. “I suppose.”

Ginny paused her approach to deposit Crookshanks into Hermione’s waiting arms.

“Well, that’s settled then.” Lightly, Sirius nudged Harry towards her. “The two of you will go together.”

Ginny joined them just in time to hear this conclusion; her eyebrows lifted in surprise. “I didn’t realise it was a two-person job.”

“Apparently Sirius thinks I need supervision,” Harry informed her.“

“And he chose me to supervise?” Ginny frowned in horror. “I’m disappointed in myself for giving a false impression of responsibility.”

Right on cue, Sirius watched as her eyes met Harry’s and identical smirks bloomed on both their faces.

“Come on,” Harry inclined his head towards the door. “We‘ll try not to get into too much trouble on the way upstairs.”

“Maybe you will,” Ginny countered, already following him out of the room. “I never made any such promises.”

Sirius watched them go with a self-satisfied smile of his own. His triumphant mood, however, did not last long before being quickly burst by the pointed sound of a throat clearing behind him.

He turned to find Remus and Tonks staring at him in amusement.

“What was that about?” Remus asked, his arms folded expectantly over his chest.

“What was what?” Sirius asked innocently.

Remus shook his head wearily. “Need I remind you I’ve witnessed that exact manoeuvre before, minutes prior to the Great Venomous Tentacula Debacle of 1976.”

Sirius huffed dismissively. “This is nothing like that,” he disagreed. “I’m quite confident neither Harry nor Ginny are going to attempt to feed the other to Buckbeak.”

Which was almost exactly what had happened when Sirius had schemed to have Lily and James partnered in Herbology at the beginning of their sixth year. Of course, Lily had assured Professor Evergreen that she had meant no harm to James when she’d shoved him into the awaiting jaws of the predatory plant; she had only meant for it to ‘take a few bites out of his over-inflated head’.

“That’s not what I meant,” Remus disagreed with his practised look of weak disapproval that was so easy to ignore. “As you well know.”

Sirius sighed, chancing a glance over his shoulder to confirm no one was nearby before stepping closer to Remus and Tonks and saying in a voice too low for anyone else to overhear over the revellers of the night. “They simply need a nudge in the right direction, one that I’m more than willing to provide.”

Remus’ frown deepened. “A nudge in which direction?”

“A romantic one,” Sirius responded imploringly, surely that much was obvious to anyone with eyes. “Don’t you see it? They’re perfect for one another.”

“Harry and Ginny?” Remus attempted to clarify, his voice dripping with scepticism.

Any answer Sirius might have made was abruptly drowned out by Tonks’ unbridled laughter.

“What?” Sirius demanded, immediately disliking the smug shake of her head. “What’s so amusing?”

“Oh, nothing,” Tonks replied as she brought her laughter back under control. “Only that you’re obviously completely out of the loop.”

“I am not,” he protested at once, indignance flaring at the suggestion he might be uninformed. “Out of the loop regarding what?”

“So many things,” Tonks replied, sighing with superiority. “But, in particular, Ginny’s boyfriend and Harry’s preferred choice of snogging partner.”

“Harry’s what?” Sirius demanded, feeling rather as though one of Fred and George’s fireworks had just struck him directly in the face. Surely, if Harry was seeing someone, he would at least bother to tell Sirius as much.

“Sounds like you have all the teenage gossip,” Remus said, encouraging Tonks to share the details while Sirius reeled from the revelation that he, apparently, knew nothing.

“I only know what Ginny tells me,” Tonks replied, shrugging as she took a sip of her firewhiskey. “Six brothers haven’t really left her with much in the way of female influence, and Hermione’s always off with Harry and Ron, she gets quite lonely, not that she’d ever admit as much out loud.”

“Evidently not that lonely if she’s cavorting around with this secret boyfriend you mentioned,” Sirius replied haughtily.

Remus and Tonks’ eyebrows rose in surprise at his uncharitable tone and Sirius took a sip of firewhiskey to burn away the faint pang of guilt surfacing within him.

“She’s not keeping him a secret,” Tonks disagreed. “She’s just protecting herself from meddling big brothers—“

“And interfering godfathers,” Remus added.

Tonks nodded in agreement. “At any rate, I don’t think they’re cavorting — which, by the way, isn’t a word anyone has used in the last century — by her own admission, she’s quite fed up with Michael.”

“Michael,” Sirius repeated brusquely. “Of course she is, how could anyone not be fed up with someone named Michael.”

Even with Sirius’ limited knowledge, it was entirely evident Harry was superior in every way that could possibly matter.

“Michael Corner?” Remus asked, ignoring this last pointed remark, his expression still perfectly, annoyingly genial. “I remember him from teaching — he seemed a perfectly pleasant young man.”

“More pleasant than Harry?” Sirius demanded, failing to see how that could possibly be true.

“Of course not,” Remus replied evenly. His eyes wandered to Tonks and they both shared a look of amusement not unlike the smirks Sirius was now used to witnessing pass between Ginny and Harry.

Sirius took note of the moment to question both Remus and Tonks about later. Separately.

“Anyway,” Remus said abruptly, tearing his eyes away from Tonks as a red flush worked its way across his cheeks. “It sounds like Harry has his sights set elsewhere.”

At the reminder, Sirius looked to Tonks expectantly. “What do you know?”

“Like I said, only what Ginny tells me.”

“Which is?” Sirius asked, schooling his features into a look of mild interest. Clearly, Tonks was enjoying holding the information over him, and he simply wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of having him beg for it.

“Just that Harry was kissing some Ravenclaw girl on the last night of term — she didn’t elaborate further, other than to say Cho’s whispering skills left a lot to be desired.”

“Cho?” Sirius directed the question at Remus.

“She’s in the year above him,” Remus replied at once. “She plays seeker for Ravenclaw — she was very popular from what I remember.”

Sirius shook his head in vehement denial. “Harry’s not going to marry a Ravenclaw.”

“He’s fifteen,” Tonks reminded him through a laugh. “I don’t think marriage is his main priority right now.”

Before Sirius could argue, a course he was quite set on taking, the door to the kitchen opened and a flash of bright red caught his eye.

Ginny re-entered first, closely followed by Harry; the two of them were deep in conversation, both of them smiling at one another in a way that, in Sirius’ opinion, proved his point for him.

He, Remus and Tonks, all fell silent, watching the young couple intently as they grabbed fresh bottles of butterbeer.

Ginny headed over to the table, eyes surveying the spread laid out upon it; Harry remained at her heels. She paused not at the food, but at a pile of glittering red and gold party hats Fred and George had laid out earlier, the ones which had caused quite a stir when the one resting jauntily on Kingsley’s head had started to sing loudly and woefully out of tune.

Ginny picked up one of the hats and beckoned Harry closer with a crooked finger. His weak attempts to refuse her obvious demand did little to deter; Ginny took a definitive step forward; Harry made no attempt to duck away as she rose up on her tiptoes and secured the eye-catching hat to the top of his head where it sparkled brilliantly in contrast with his dark hair. Upon seeing Ginny’s triumphant smile, an identical one bloomed upon Harry’s face.

Sirius was also grinning victoriously as he turned back to Remus and Tonks.

“I’m not telling you you’re right,” Remus said stubbornly, but the stiff manner in which he knocked back the remainder of his firewhiskey was confirmation enough for Sirius.

Tonks sighed, her eyes still glued to the pair, watching as Harry attempted to force a hat onto Ginny’s head and she stubbornly — and speedily — ducked out of his way.

“I’m sure they’ll figure it out eventually,” Tonks said, a small smile appearing on her face.

Sirius nodded, unable to stop his thoughts from wandering to James and Lily and the many occasions upon which he’d been forced to watch them refuse to see what was plainly right in front of them.

He cleared his throat against the sudden emotion that swelled within, a strange mixture of longing for what had already passed and what was still yet to come. “They always do in the end.”

[slytherin-princess-x]

Last day of slytherinmas 😭

My girl

Theodore nott x cheerleader!reader

Summary: you keep your relationship hidden but when a charming gryffindor captain tries to win you over, it’s not just a game of quidditch anymore it’s a game for you

A/n: it’s his pov guys and thank you for another great idea @smut-anarchy I wanna kiss your beautiful brain 💋

The sun hung high in the autumn sky, casting a warm golden hue over the Quidditch pitch at Hogwarts. The excitement of the crowd buzzed in my ears, a cacophony of cheers and shouts that rose and fell like the wind. I stood on the sidelines, my heart pounding not from the thrill of the game but from a simmering anger that threatened to boil over.

Gryffindor was playing Slytherin today, and while the usual rivalry had me on edge, it wasn’t the opposing team that had me fuming. No, it was their captain, Oliver Wood. With his tousled hair and those infuriatingly charming winks he kept sending toward the Slytherin cheerleaders, my focus shifted solely to him, and more specifically, to Y/N.

Y/N was mesmerizing, even in her cheer uniform. Her laughter rang out above the rest, and every time Wood shot her a flirty wink, a knot tightened in my stomach. I couldn’t stand it. She was my girl, and I had no intention of letting anyone else think otherwise.

As I watched Wood fly around the pitch, I could feel the rage bubbling within me. He was supposed to be focused on the game, yet he was wasting precious moments trying to win Y/N’s affection rather than leading his team. I clenched my fists, my knuckles white as I considered what I would do to show him that she wasn’t interested in his charming little antics.

When Slytherin scored their first goal, I caught Y/N’s eye. She smiled brightly, her eyes sparkling with delight, but I could see the confusion lurking beneath the surface. Did she even realize how much Wood was flirting with her? I hoped not. The last thing I wanted was for her to reciprocate. My mind raced with thoughts of how to assert my claim, how to remind everyone that she was mine.

As the match continued, it became apparent that I needed to focus. I was a Beater, and my job was to protect my teammates, to ensure that we won. But my attention kept being drawn to the Gryffindor captain. The way he smiled at Y/N and winked, as if it were a game in itself.

“Focus, Nott,” Blaise shouted to me, making me force my gaze back to the pitch. I could hear the cheers from the stands, feel the adrenaline surging in the air, but it was all clouded by my growing jealousy.

The game wore on, and it seemed that Oliver was determined to keep his flirtation going. I could see him glance at Y/N every chance he got, completely ignoring the game’s flow. It only fueled my determination. I was ready to send him a message, to make him realize that he was crossing a line.

With every swing of my bat, I aimed to protect my teammates while keeping an eye on Wood. I wasn’t above playing dirty if it meant defending my territory.

“Keep your eyes on the ball, Theo!” My friend Draco’s voice broke through my haze of anger. I barely registered him; I was locked on Oliver.

Then it happened. A bludger was coming straight for Wood as he flew high above the pitch. Instinct kicked in; I swung my bat, sending the ball hurtling toward him with a calculated force. The impact was satisfying as he narrowly dodged it, but I could see the annoyance flash in his eyes. Good. Let him know I’m not here to play nice.

The match progressed, and with each passing moment, I felt the tide of the game turning in our favor. My teammates rallied, fueled by the promise of victory and the desire to defend our honor. Y/N cheered us on from the sidelines, her voice ringing clear and bright.

Finally, as the match neared its end, Slytherin secured a decisive lead. The moment came when I saw Oliver making yet another desperate attempt to impress Y/N with a flashy move. I could feel my anger boiling over, and I took one last swing of my bat, sending a bludger careening directly at him.

He dodged, but the distraction was enough. Our Seeker, Millicent, dove toward the Golden Snitch, her determination matched only by my own. She caught it, and the crowd erupted in cheers.

Slytherin had won.

As I landed on the pitch, adrenaline coursing through me, I scanned the crowd for Y/N. She was beaming, her smile lighting up my world, and in that moment, I knew I had to claim her in front of everyone. I had to show Wood and the rest of the school that she belonged to me.

I strode toward her, my heart pounding in my chest. When I reached her, the noise of the crowd faded, and it was just the two of us. Without hesitation, I pulled her into my arms and kissed her fiercely. It was a declaration, a promise, a way to stake my claim.

The crowd erupted into a mix of cheers and gasps, but I didn’t care. I could feel Y/N’s surprise melt into delight as she kissed me back, her hands tangled in my hair.

Oliver’s glare from the other side of the pitch was almost palpable, but I didn’t let it bother me. I had won the game, and more importantly, I had won her heart.

In that moment, nothing else mattered. I was Theodore Nott, the boy who defended what was his, and I had no intention of letting anyone—especially not Oliver Wood—get in my way.

Taglist: @yootvi @redeemingvillains @littlemadamred @smut-anarchy

[emetitur]

favourite disco elysium moments - all together now

inprnt