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lumosandnoxwriting · 4 years ago

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Call Me When You’re Sober - George Weasley

Title: Call Me When You’re Sober Pairing: George x Fem!Reader, George x Angelina Johnson (kinda, sorta, not really) Warning: mentions of drug use!! Also some mentions of sexual things like sexting/sending nudes and one mention of a boner. I also use the word tits a few times. Summary: George only seems to have the time for Y/N when he’s high, and that’s just not enough for her anymore. (This is also a modern au where they have cell phones and social media bc why not) A/N: this is for an anon that wanted a fic based off of a tiktok POV they saw and funnily enough that POV ended up on my fyp last week so you can find that here if you want. The only part I was inspired by was Angelina being present, but that part was specifically mentioned in the request everything else is purely from my own brain!! This also includes a bit of Angelina Johnson slander but it does not represent my actual views. Angelina slander is not welcome in this house. Feedback is always welcome and requests are open! Tags: @feltondarling @pandaxnienke @raerae27

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The first time it happens Y/N answers the phone right away.

“George? What’s wrong?” she asks frantically, already getting out of bed. It’s three am and George never calls even at a decent hour, so she assumes that something has gone wrong and he needs help.

“Hey, Y/N,” George drawls slowly, like his mouth is moving in slow motion.

Y/N pauses in the middle of her bedroom, her hand hovering above her car keys. “What the hell’s wrong with you?” George certainly sounds off, but he doesn’t necessarily sound like he’s in need of her rescuing. When all George does is giggle in response, Y/N groans. “Are you high?”

“High on life!” George responds, prompting Y/N to roll her eyes. She shuffles back over to her bed and climbs back in, snuggling under the covers. “And maybe a little bit of weed,” he adds with a laugh.

Y/N rolls her eyes, but there’s a small smile on her face. George is one of her favorite people in the world, and it’s hard for her to stay mad at him. “A little bit?” she teases. “You sound baked out of your mind.”

George lets out a throaty laugh, and Y/N closes her eyes, making it seem like he’s there in the room with her. They don’t get to see each other often now that they’re both out of school and busy with their lives, and George’s aversion to phone calls means all she has to get her through their periods of time apart are short text messages and stupid memes. Hearing his voice sends shivers down her spine, and if it wasn’t so late she’d be driving to wherever he is to climb into his arms.

“What can I say? Freddie got the good stuff now that we can afford it.” Y/N can hear some rustling, and she figures that he’s laying back onto his bed. “Not like back when we were at Hoggywarts. Remember those days?”

Y/N hums as she lets her mind wander back to their school days. It didn’t happen often, but every once in a while Fred or George would sneak out of the castle down to Hogsmeade to buy off of a guy that works at the Hogshead Inn. They would settle into their dorm along with Lee and after placing some spells on the room and throwing the windows open they’d light up and pass the joint around until nothing was left. The weed was cheap and burned their lungs, but none of them cared. It left them all feeling like they were floating, and they would talk for hours about nothing in particular.

George always got handsy when he was high, and Y/N supposes this is where her feelings for him started. Once the joint burned out George would pull her body close and let his hands roam all over it as he talked with the boys idly. Y/N would run her hands through his hair and scratch at his scalp, her face pressed tightly to his neck. They often ended up falling asleep together wherever they had landed, sometimes it was George’s bed, but it was usually the floor, swaddled in some random blankets and pillows from the common room. Y/N was always the first to wake up, and she’d hug George tightly for one more fleeting moment before sneaking out and back into her own dorm.

“You roll the best joints, Y/N,” George continues when Y/N doesn’t say anything. “Fred is so shit at it. No matter how many times you showed him how to do it.”

“Very sweet of you to say, Georgie,” Y/N laughs. She yawns a moment later, desperately trying to fight off sleep. “Though you were always more fond of smoking from a bowl if I remember correctly.

George yawns too and Y/N can hear him climbing under the covers of his bed. “I am. But smoking joints reminds me of you.”

“George,” Y/N says softly, sitting up in bed. She waits for him to say something, but all she’s met with are his light snores. She rolls her eyes, settling back down into her pillows. “Goodnight, George.” Y/N hangs up her phone and places it on her nightstand before letting memories of George lull her back to sleep.

The next time it happens Y/N doesn’t hear her phone the first time. She’s out of town for work, and after a long day she’d collapsed right onto the bed in her hotel room, formal clothes still on and everything. Y/N had ignored her phone the first time, hoping to fall back asleep. But when it started to ring again only seconds after it stopped she picks up her phone and answers the call without bothering to see who it is.

“Hullo?” she answers sleepily, her eyes barely open. She glances at the clock, noting that it’s only 10 pm and figures that it’s one of her coworkers inviting her to go out with them.

“You sound sleepy,” George responds softly, his voice deep and languid. “Did I wake you up?”

Y/N sits up in bed, rubbing some of the sleep from her eyes. “George?”

George laughs. “Who else would it be?”

“Considering the fact that this is literally the second time you’ve ever called me I figured it would be anyone else besides you,” Y/N teases, shrugging out of her suit jacket.

“Hey,” George whines, and Y/N can practically hear the pout on his face. “I called you on your birthday.”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Oh, you’re right, my mistake.” She pauses as she walks over to the dresser in the room, starting to take off her jewelry. “How baked are you this time?” she asks playfully.

“What makes you think I’m high?” George laughs.

“For one the sound of your voice,” Y/N explains as she kicks off her heels. “And you only call me when you’re high. Oh, and on my birthday,” she adds when George makes a noise of disapproval.

Y/N hears George shuffle around, and she takes the opportunity to put him on speaker so she can put her phone down and start getting rid of the rest of her clothes. “You can tell by my voice?”

“Mhm,” Y/N hums, fumbling with the buttons of her shirt. “It gets deeper and slower.”

“Really?” George asks, sounding surprised. “Does it sound sexy?”

Y/N laughs as she heads over towards her suitcase, taking off her bra as she goes. She starts to dig through the mess, trying to find her pajamas. “Super sexy,” she responds, hoping George is too high to notice how serious she is.

“What are you doing? You sound too far away.”

Y/N chuckles at George’s dramatics as her hands finally land on her sleep shirt. It’s an old t-shirt of George’s that she stole sometime during their last year and never gave back. Whenever Y/N travels for work she brings it with her as a reminder of home. “I’m putting my pajamas on.”

“So, you’re naked right now?” George’s voice is rough, and it sends a shiver right down her spine.

“Practically,” Y/N responds, pulling the shirt over her head. It’s far too large for her so the hem barely brushes the tops of her thighs, but it reminds her of George, and that’s what matters.

George groans, and Y/N can feel her cheeks heating up as she crawls back into bed. “Wish I was there to see.” Y/N can feel butterflies erupt in her stomach and she has to clamp a hand over her mouth to conceal the noise that bubbles out of her throat. “Send me a pic of your tits,” he continues bluntly when Y/N doesn’t say anything.

“George!” Y/N says, the surprise in her tone evident. The butterflies in her stomach are going wild, and Y/N has to remind herself that it’s the weed talking, not George. “I’m not going to do that George.” Although Y/N would be lying if she said she wasn’t tempted to. “Besides I’m already dressed and in bed.”

“What a party pooper,” George grumbles. “Got me all hard for nothing.” Y/N’s heart feels like it’s going to beat out of her chest. George has never been this lewd with her in all the times they’ve been high together, and she wonders if it’s because of whatever he smoked or because this is one of the only times they’ve been alone while one of them was baked. “What are you wearing then? A sexy little nighty?”

Y/N has to take a few deep breaths, hardly able to believe what she’s hearing. Part of her wants to tell George to knock it off and hang up on him. But the other part has wanted to hear George talk to her like this since their Hogwarts days and she doesn’t know which part should win.

“One of your old t-shirts, actually,” Y/N responds quietly, giving in to her desires.

George groans, and it takes everything in Y/N’s power not to shove a hand down her panties. “That red one? That I let you borrow and never saw again?”

“You remember that?” Y/N asks softly.

“Of course,” George answers. His voice is slower now and Y/N can tell he’s going to fall asleep any second. Smoking always makes him tired and he was often the target of a few pranks since he would be the first to nod off. “That’s like a guys wet dream. Seeing a girl that’s as pretty and sexy as you are in his clothes.”

Y/N bites her tongue as to not say anything, just listening to George through the phone. His breathing starts to slow down, and within a few seconds Y/N can tell he’s fallen into a deep sleep. She listens to him breathe for a moment, before hanging up and tossing her phone down. She cuddles up in the unfamiliar bed, desperately trying to fall asleep.

Every few weeks George’s name pops up on Y/N’s phone usually late at night and he’s always baked out of his mind. Y/N finds it nice the first half dozen times, George’s voice is always calming to her and she basks in the opportunity to get to speak with him. They haven’t seen each other in months, despite the fact that Y/N has tried to catch up with him several times. But he’s always got an excuse ready. At first Y/N understood, the joke shop is his number one priority, but after a while it gets insulting. When George is sober he can barely be bothered to send her a text message but the second he lights up he’s dialing her phone number.

One night when he calls she asks him why he doesn’t just invite her over to smoke. Her flat is only 30 minutes outside of London and he knows that she’d drive to the ends of the earth to see him. But of course he has an excuse. He says that it’s something just for him and Fred, a way to wind down together after a hectic workday. Which makes sense to Y/N, and as much as she wants to push it she doesn’t. If it were any other person she would have given up on their friendship by now. But George isn’t just any average person. He’s the person she cares most about in this world, and Y/N doesn’t want to live without him. So as shitty as it makes her feel to just be someone he calls when he’s too baked to care who he talks to, she puts up with it.

That is until she reaches her breaking point.

The last time it happens Y/N doesn’t answer her phone the first time it rings. Or the second time. She’s just gotten home from having a few drinks with friends and the alcohol has made her brave. She puts her phone on vibrate mode and leaves it on her bed as she gets ready to go to sleep. It takes her 20 minutes to get ready and once she’s finally in bed under the covers she picks up her phone to assess the damage.

“What the fuck George?” she whispers to herself, scrolling through the notifications on her phone. She has 15 missed calls from him and a litany of text messages.

Answer ur phone Y/N Y/N I called again Pls Answer me Y R u ignoring me Need to hear your voice Baby Y/N Im gonna call until u pick up Ill keep txtin 2 Baby please Y/N I need to talk to you I miss u Pls

When George’s name and the stupid photo of him Y/N set as his contact picture pop again Y/N sighs and she reluctantly answers. “What?”

“Oh my god finally,” George groans in his usual slow voice. “Why didn’t you answer me?”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Because, George. I was busy. I have a life outside of you and your stupid little phone calls.” Her tone is harsh, and George is so quiet for a moment that Y/N has to check to make sure that he hasn’t hung up on her.

“Why are you so angry?” he asks a second later, and Y/N can tell he’s upset. Normally she would just drop the subject, but there’s alcohol thrumming through her veins and she’s tired of keeping it all in.

“Because, George,” Y/N sneers. “You only call me when you’re high. You dodge every attempt I make at seeing you and you barely even text me anymore. I thought we were friends George. But in reality you treat me like dirt. You use me whenever you want and then you cast me aside without another thought until you’re high again.”

“Y/N,” George starts, but he gets distracted when someone in the background starts to giggle wildly.

Y/N’s blood runs cold, immediately recognizing that laugh. “I thought smoking was something for only you and Fred, George?” Y/N asks accusatorily, sadness and hurt starting to mix with her anger. “I can’t believe you. Not only did you lie to me, but you can find the time to hang out with Angelina Johnson and not your best friend?”

“I-I’m here all alone, Y/N. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” George stutters. But before Y/N can say anything, the same voice says something.

“Georgie,” Angelina whines. “You’re too far away, get back over here.”

“Y/N, I can explain,” George starts, but she cuts him off.

“Fuck you, George Weasley.” Y/N spits, before hanging up on him. She turns her phone off and slams it down, before burying her head in her pillow and crying herself to sleep.

When Y/N wakes up the next morning her head is pounding and her throat is dry, and it’s not just from the alcohol she drank. George broke her heart last night, and she has the dry tear tracks on her cheeks to prove it. Y/N avoids her phone, deciding she’s not quite ready for whatever is going to pop up when she turns it back on.

She gets ready for the day slowly, thankful that it’s still the weekend. Y/N stands in the shower for nearly an hour, just letting the hot water sting her skin. When she gets out she brushes her hair slowly, just looking at herself in the mirror. She can’t help but be as mad at herself as she is at George. George may have treated her like shit, but Y/N let him. She let herself become so desperate for his attention that she played right into his stupid game. And as much as Y/N hates to admit it, she doesn’t regret it for a second. All she’s ever craved was George’s undivided attention, and finally getting it felt so good, even if George was higher than a kite each time. Seeing his name pop up on her phone gave Y/N a thrill each time, even though she wanted more – deserved more. Y/N has always been there for George and all she wanted was for him to be there for her too.

Y/N picks out her comfiest lounging outfit, forcing herself not to automatically reach for the old shirt of George’s hanging in her closet. She’s been wearing it more often these days, craving the comfort of his embrace but settling for the cloth of his shirt instead. But now the sight of it makes her want to throw up.

She’s been up for nearly two hours when she settles back into bed, a hot cup of tea in her hands. Y/N’s not sure if she’s actually ready to face whatever mess George put them in last night, but sooner is better than later. She places her mug on her bedside table, reaching over to flip the framed photo she has of her and George over so she can’t see their smiling faces. When her phone finally boots up the screen shows just her background for a moment, before a barrage of texts, missed calls and voicemails show up. George has called nearly 100 times, with almost as many voicemails accompanying them and he’s texted over 200 times to boot.

Y/N scrolls through them, surprised to find that the most recent call and voicemail are from Fred. She can’t remember the last time Fred initiated a phone call with her, since he’s just as hard to get on the phone as George. Fred prefers to communicate through snapchats and tweets, so Y/N knows something big has gone on if Fred bothered to pick up his phone and make a call.

“Uh hey, Y/N. It’s me. Fred. But you probably already know that. Or maybe you don’t. Whatever, not important. I know this is probably the last thing you wanna hear since he’s left you like a thousand messages, but will you please call George? Or text him. Hell send him an email. He’s sorry for whatever it is he did. I’m not really sure what, he was crying a lot when he barged into my room and I was zooted as hell. But what matters is he’s sorry and he really wants to talk to you. So call him, please. Do it for me, at least even if you don’t do it for him. Okay anyway. Bye.”

Y/N sighs, running a hand through her hair. As pissed as she is, she hates to hear that George is upset. She chooses to ignore George’s voicemails for now, since they’re probably a mishmash of words and sobs considering how messy Fred said he was. She clicks on her text message app, scrolling through the messages George had sent, stopping every once and a while to read a few.

Y/N please Im srry Its sending me to voicemail Did u turn ur phone off Talk 2 me Pls y/n pls baby baby baby im sorry I need you to talk to me I need to hear ur voice Pls Let me explain I dnt care abt angie Not like how I care abt u Y/N please. Don’t do this I fucked up I knw I fucked up Let me make it right Please I love you, please

The last text message shocks Y/N, and she rereads it over and over again until its image is imprinted in her brain. George has only ever told her he loves her one other time. It was the last time they got high together, the night before he and Fred left to start the joke shop. Fred, George, Lee and her were all fairly baked, and after Fred and Lee left to sneak down to the kitchens for snacks, George had turned to Y/N and pulled her right into his lap. He had grabbed her face with both of his hands and looked deep into her eyes. I love you, you know that right? His tone was firm and when Y/N nodded he used his grip on her face to pull her into a kiss. It was uncoordinated and messy, but she didn’t care. He had mumbled the word ‘good’ when he pulled away and in a blink of an eye he’d drifted off to sleep. Y/N had snuck back into her own bed, figuring it was best to ignore it, since George surely wouldn’t remember it in the morning anyway.

A knock at her door brings Y/N out of her thoughts and she tosses her phone on the bed to go and answer it. She’s been expecting a package, so when Y/N reaches the door she doesn’t bother to check to see who it is, and just throws it open.

“You look like hell,” Y/N says when her eyes land on George. She certainly wasn’t expecting it to be him, but she’s truly not surprised. His text messages had sounded desperate and it’s very like George to just show up at her doorstep when she doesn’t want him to after he refused to come over for months. Y/N looks him over as he fidgets, taking in his disheveled appearance. His eyes are sullen and dull, his hair is sticking out in a million directions and his skin is ever paler than normal.

“Suppose I deserve that,” George responds, his voice raspy. He lets his eyes rake over Y/N, dumbfounded by how beautiful she looks even in her lounge wear. It’s the first time he’s seen her in person in over half a year and even though he’s spent much of his free time staring at her Instagram photos, she still takes his breath away. “You look good though.”

Y/N rolls her eyes and goes to slam the door, but George puts his hand up to stop it. “What do you want, George?”

“Just let me explain,” he pleads. “Just let me explain everything and then if you want I’ll go. I’ll leave and you’ll never have to talk to me or see me again. You can delete me from your life. But I can’t let you go without explaining myself.”

“Fine,” Y/N resolves, stepping aside and opening the door so George can come in. She leads him over to her couch and motions for him to sit down. Y/N resists her urge to sit next to him, instead choosing to stand in front of him, her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes narrowed. “Talk.”

George clears his throat and starts to fiddle with his thumbs. “I like calling you when I’m high because I say whatever comes to my mind. When I’m sober I think too much about what I’m going to say, and I never end up saying what I want. But when I’m high the words just fly out of my mouth without me thinking about the consequences and I like that. Because there’s so many things I want to say to you that I don’t have the balls to say when I’m sober.”

“Like asking me for tit pics?” Y/N asks with a curt laugh.

“Honestly, yes,” he answers, a blush forming on his cheeks. “But it’s more than that. Like telling you I smoke joints even though I despise them, and Fred can’t roll to save his life because it reminds me of you. Or that just the thought of you not wearing any clothes drives me wild. Or that I find you so ungodly beautiful and so damn sexy, Y/N. And that I love you.” George pauses for a moment so he can just watch Y/N. “Because I do love you, Y/N. So much more and in so many different ways than a best friend should.”

Y/N bites her lip to keep herself from sharing the same sentiment as George. Because holy hell does she love him with every fiber of her being, but he’s fucked up and hurt her in more ways than just his inability to admit his feelings. “Then why keep me at arm’s length, George? You avoid all my attempts to see you, you only ever bother talking to me when you’re baked out of your mind and you lie to me. Out of all the people in the world you had to smoke with it had to be her. You know how I feel about Angelina.”

Despite being roommates and pretty similar personality wise, Y/N and Angelina never really got along. They were always competing with each other, for the best grades in their year, for prefect and head girl, and Y/N is ashamed to admit that they’d fought over a boy or two in their early years at Hogwarts. But by far their biggest competition was for George’s attention. George couldn’t care less about girls during his time at Hogwarts, Fred didn’t either but at least he would sleep with some of the girls that threw themselves at him. George on the other hand didn’t seem to care. The only girl he ever bothered to spend meaningful time with was Y/N, and it drove Angelina up the wall. Angelina did everything she could to vie for George’s attention, including spreading a nasty rumor about Y/N during their 5th year. Much to Angelina’s disappointment it failed miserably, and they pretty much ignored each other from that day on.

“The Angelina thing is not my fault,” George insists. “She came into the shop just before we closed, and Fred invited her up and she accepted. What was I supposed to do?”

“Not let her in your room!” Y/N answers as if it’s obvious. “But this isn’t just about Angelina, I don’t want to talk about her. It’s about the fact that you’ve been treating me like shit, George. I’ve been trying so hard to get through to you and you stop me every time.”

“Because being around you and having to pretend that I don’t have feelings for you is too painful,” George admits honestly. “The only time I’m brave enough to be with you the way I want to is when I’m high. Why do you think I was always grabbing your ass after we smoked? Why I always made you cuddle me? Why I kissed you that night?”

“You remember that?” Y/N asks, clearly shocked. George had never mentioned it again and Y/N figured he was too high to remember what he said and did. It had upset her to no end that George returning her feelings was only a side effect of the weed, but she never brought it up to him in fear of ruining their relationship.

George scoffs. “Of course I do. When I woke up the next morning and you weren’t there I figured you didn’t feel the same way. So, I just never mentioned it, and when you didn’t either I figured you thought I was just being a high idiot like always and brushed it off. I never invited you to smoke after that because I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off of you. And kissing you once is easy to explain away but kissing you every time we get high pretty obviously means something more. So, I would call you instead. And I’d lay in my bed high as hell pretending that you were there next to me until I fell asleep with you on the phone.”

“Oh, for fucks sake,” Y/N mutters. Before she has a chance to regret her actions, Y/N is throwing herself at George. She straddles his waist and kisses him hard, moaning when his hands land on her bum and give it a squeeze. “You’re such a fucking idiot,” she pants, starting to trail kisses across George’s jaw and down his neck. “But you’re my idiot.”

George chuckles before he grabs Y/N’s face so that he can kiss her again. Their lips move together slowly, and George starts to rub Y/N’s back lightly. “I love you,” he murmurs as their kiss breaks.

“I love you too,” Y/N responds, her head dizzy.

“Does this mean I get tit pics whenever I want?” George asks cheekily, laughing when Y/N slaps his chest.

“Only if you promise to only call me when you’re sober from now on,” Y/N bargains.

George grins at Y/N before leaning in to kiss her briefly. “Deal.”

#George Weasley #George Weasley imagine #gw #golden

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hoggyywarts · 3 years ago

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This was a terrible idea, and Draco knew it. So why was he standing in front of Potter's apartment door (the one right next to his own) at 2 am? Only Merlin knows. And sure, he thought he would have grown out of his fear of storms, but when he woke up to the sound of thunder shaking the entire building, he had tried using the calming techniques his therapist had taught him, but the thunder continued to shake the building, and the rain was pouring down eerily, similar to the weather during his five lovely months in Azkaban. Alas, here he was. And sure, he could have gone to Pansy's apartment directly below his, but he couldn't bloody see to get down the stairs safely.

All he wanted was to get out of his apartment and maybe a hug from his- from Potter. After all, he was secretly pinning regardless of what Pansy insisted was obvious pinning. But, living in London, he had grown accustomed to the storms, the rain, and the daily hexes directed towards him. Anyways, he would have been fine had the stupid electricity had not have gone out. Sure, he could have used Lumos, but part of his probation prohibited using his wand from 11 pm- 6 am. As much as he was- okay, definitely not scared- more perturbed, he shuttered as he thought about going back to that dreadful place.

read the rest

#cuddling #harry potter #harry x draco #good draco #drarry #pansy parkinson #is a good friend #fluff #sharing a bed #thunderstorms #protective harry #hurt draco

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ashesandstars · 4 years ago

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currently dreaming about hoggywarts hopefully 🥰

#queue will miss me when i'm gone

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im-a-fucking-pretty-princess · 5 years ago

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Ok, soooooo, what are your thoughts on les amis Hogwarts houses? I've seen a lot of Enjolras as a Slytherin or Ravenclaw, and Grantaire and Feuilly as a Hufflepuff, but sortinghatchats did an interesting post on primary houses that reminded me about my current favorite student revolutionaries (personally I've always thought E and F were Hufflepuffs and G, J, and Combeferre all Ravenclaws) and was curious about your thoughts. Obvs for this thought exercise we are ignoring that they're French

It is my sincerest belief that the house system is utter horseshit: we can get into nature vs nurture and the pointless self-fulfilling prophecy bit, or we can even address that most people possess some oddball combination of all of these qualities, but despite all of this in combination with the creator’s own prejudices and my acknowledgment every step of the way that the original work is flawed and imperfect, the Hogwarts universe has grown beyond its original self through an incredible fandom, and also I am a flawed human myself and absolutely have my reluctantly strong headcanons.

OKAY, SO.

Based on the Harry Potter wiki, this random quora article, a screenrant article, owlcation, and wikipedia, just to establish a baseline:

Gryffindor: You might belong in Gryffindor, where dwell the brave of heart, their daring, nerve, and chivalry set Gryffindors apart.

Courage, bravery, determination, daring, nerve, chivalry

Bold and chivalrous, can be reckless or arrogant

Brave, stubborn

Courage, daring, chivalry, strong moral compass, hot-headed, reckless, arrogant

Values courage, bravery, nerve, and chivalry

Hufflepuff: You might belong in Hufflepuff, where they are just and loyal, those patient Hufflepuffs are true and unafraid of toil.

Diligence, dedication, fairness, patience, kindness, tolerance, modesty, loyalty

Loyal, having a good sense of fair play, hard working, kind; often seen as “weak” or “untalented”

Loyal, too trusting

Loyal, dedicated, honest, humble, naive, low self-esteem, lacking in ambition

Values hard work, patience, justice, and loyalty

Ravenclaw: Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw, if you’ve a ready mind, where those of wit and learning can always find their kind.

Intelligence, wit, wisdom, creativity, originality, individuality, sharpness, acceptance

Clever, wise, and eager to learn, can be seen as “weird” and are sometimes extremely competitive when it comes to exams

Intelligent, dismissive

Intelligent, curious, creative, individual, disconnected with the outside world, arrogant, isolated

Values intelligence, creativity, learning, and wit

Slytherin: Or perhaps in Slytherin you’ll make your real friends, those cunning folk use any means to achieve their ends.

Resourcefulness, Cunning, Ambition, Determination, Leadership, Self-Preservation, Fraternity, Lineage

ambitious, yearning for power, tend to be pure bloods; often seen as “the worst house”

Resourceful, manipulative

Ambitious, cunning, resourceful, determined, Machiavellian, power-hungry, exclusive

Values ambition, cunning, leadership, and resourcefulness

As we can already see, there’s a lot of inconsistencies and contradictions in interpretting the house qualities before we even begin, even among the more reliable sources. I’m going ahead and bold-facing any description that shows up in three or more of the five sources or the source. The most value will be given to the book quote qualities, followed by the HP wiki and wikipedia, with the others mostly there to consider the house more dynamically in case of a stalemate.

(In addition, could Jowling Kowling Rowling have been more obvious in her bias against Slytherin? “Hey, let’s just sort every child into ‘self-sure,’ ‘nice,’ ‘smart,’ and ‘fucking evil’ based on what they’re like September 1st of whatever year they’re eleven for.”)

Enjolras is a lot of these, but I mostly see him Slytherin and could be swayed to Hufflepuff. The big tipping point for me is when he kills Le Cabuc and when he has to kill the member of the National Guard and Combeferre is talking with him about remembering the humanity of this person: he has made a very conscious decision that the ends justify the means and that it must be done.

The thing with Slytherins is that a lot of people assume that their ambition is for themselves, but Enjolras wants this for France, for the people, and he is willing to stand up and do what must be done to attain that. He is smart, he is resourceful and has connections that he calls upon, and he does truly believe that this revolution can make a difference. He plans around the death of a noteworthy stateman and tries to rally The People around and behind that.

Hufflepuff is more the soft choice: loyal, determined, hardworking, patient. It’s true, but he’s also so much more than that (in my opinion–and I discuss this a bit more with Courfeyrac).

Combeferre is Ravenclaw, next question.

Courfeyrac is Hufflepuff, though I could see the argument for Slytherin based on his use of connections, resourcefulness, and obviously “fraternity.” The biggest thing working against him is that he doesn’t really have much ambition besides “betterment of man,” which he doesn’t exactly place himself at the center of (Though Vicky actually initially did, which I think is very telling! Early drafts had him in more of a leadership role and Enj as a nearly bodyguard-type figure.).

Jehan is someone whom I lean heavily toward Ravenclaw but can also be persuaded toward Hufflepuff: ey’re dreamy and creative and a very Luna Lovegood-type, so that’s why I personally feel ey’re a better fit for Ravenclaw, but ey also put eir foot down for justice and are willing to do what ey must for the revolution.

Bahorel is basically the epitome of Gryffindor, down to the boisterous color.

Feuilly is mainly Hufflepuff on the basis of “hard-working,” aka the only ami said to be of working class. Strong sense of justice, though, and none of the other houses’ primary qualities especially jump out.

Joly seems most like a Ravenclaw. They’re also very witty and sharp, with lots of fun with puns and wordplay, and they need to be intelligent to keep up with Grantaire and Combeferre and, hell, even Bossuet. They also have an extremely niche knowledge of diseases/illnesses and practice superstition to counteract these things (very Lovegood-y). Hufflepuff is there, but…Ravenclaw is better.

Bossuet is tricky because…well, because I honestly see him as more of a squib. He isn’t particularly hardworking, ambitious, or even abnormally brave, though he’s clearly witty and intelligent. If you had to pull my arm I think I’d say Ravenclaw, but that’s more of a process of elimination.

Musichetta only really gets one line in le Thicc Bricc, but that line states that she’s literary (which, for a woman in the 1800′s, is pretty radical). I would say Ravenclaw based on this.

Grantaire is the only ami whose sorting house I have extremely strong feelings about, and it’s because He is Not Hufflepuff.

Loyal? To Enjolras, maybe. No one else, nothing else.

Hard-working? Pfft.

Patient? Show me where.

Just? “I understand only love and liberty.”

Even if he was canonically portrayed as being kind (he isn’t, I promise–presumably friendly, but “kind” he is not), Hufflepuff is only cited as having kindness as a quality in two of five sources and not in the source material’s poem, nor is being a good friend. One can be crotchety and mean and still loyal and hardworking (see below).

No, Grantaire is definitely, without doubt, a Ravenclaw: witty, intelligent, clever, individual, apparently creative (student of le Gros), probably even sharp when he’s not drunk given the other skills he is proficient at (boxing, dancing, gymnastics, short-stick). He’s a self-professed coward, and doesn’t die for glory or the people, he dies for Enjolras and for bleary-eyed hope for the future.

Marius is Gryffindor, and I’ll tell you why: he’s a cocky and out-of-touch sunovabitch. He just rolls into town totally and utterly unprepared–rolls into life that way, really, just blissfully unaware with his feelings on his sleeve, and expects things to work out. He volunteers his weird Napoléon-opinions in a room full of Republicans and looks Combeferre in the eye while he does it. He stands up to his grandfather and leaves without any sort of plan of how to get by, based on moral principle alone. He does all sorts of weird shit to woo Cosette, even to the point of telling Valjean to stay away from her because a criminal shouldn’t be in her life. He shows up at that barricade prepared to die. He is, by all means, chaotic Gryffindor Dumbassery, and I hope Vicky is fucking proud.

Éponine is honestly such a hat-stall: I know everyone likes calling her Slytherin because she’s morally gray, and fanon is very clearly Gryffindor, but the primary qualities based on the bricc are loyalty (to Marius) and resourcefulness. I also feel like she is intelligent (streetsmart) and for sure has nerve and daring. If I had to choose one I think I’d go for a Longbottom-Gryffindor, but the hat would take a long while to come to that conclusion.

Gavroche is a much faster Gryffindor, though Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff are still strong contenders. The hat grows to dread their bloodline.

Cosette…I literally looked her up, looked up passages and summaries and quotes, and I really have a genuinely difficult time deciding because she has so few moments of choice and agency in which to prove her personality. Fanon I’d say she’s Slytherin because she’s self-sure and knows what she wants and how to make it happen (though it’s usually in the best interests of others). She is described as “not [being] timid by nature” and having “a foundation of wildness and bravery in her,” which suggests Gryffindor? Again, I’m really struggling to recall examples of things she actively did–even with Marius, she didn’t really actively pursue him since she wasn’t really sure of what her feelings for him were, and ultimately he did all of the pursuing (and, as we all know, later taught her what a nipple is). I think a big part of this is also that the book mentions that she’s still, like. Processing abuse that she doesn’t even remember, was raised in a convent before moving suddenly to the outside world with Valjean and Toussaint as her primary source of companionship, and…I mean, she’s fifteen/maybe sixteen when she gets married, to the first non-Valjean man she’s ever known. She’s a child.

But so is everyone else who gets sorted, so I’m saying Slytherin and calling it a day–use your powers for good, my dear.

Valjean is Slytherin, Javert is Hufflepuff, and here is the proof.

Fantine is Gryffindor for having the audacity to hope, and also spitting in Valjean’s face right in from of Javert while Valjean was trying to help her was BDE if I ever saw it. (Note: arguably why it was so hard to choose between Slytherin and Gryffindor for Cosette: raised by a Slytherin, but she has that Gryffindor blood)

#hoggywarts #in les amis #also had to include those tags #because fuck marius

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shipsthatcouldshowyouthestars · 4 years ago

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tagged by @krayonders :)

rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. send me an ask with the title that most intrigues you and interests you and I’ll post a little snippet of it or tell you something about it!

if i send ALL of them this post will be as long as the color of the sky post, so i will post some

1. traumatic watcherworld experience no clickbait

2. ELLIE/ALICE!!!! ELLIE/ALICE!!!

3. b&w noel simping for another girl

4. the way i’d die for some androids

5. WROEF pt. 2 electric boogaloo ft. even MORE children

6. hoggywarts pt. 2

7. stessed out paul

8. simpy prince paul

9. some agent carter au for your day

10. sngle mom emma lol

ill tag: @thegalwhoreallylikesmusicals @hot-scotch @showstoppingnumbrr @a-very-starkid-musical and @hatchetfield-whore

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lvmosity · 5 years ago

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deadly secrets | draco malfoy [prologue]

pairing: draco malfoy x pureblood!slytherin!reader

genre: romance, angst (well an attempt)

word count: 2.2k

plot: some secrets are better off not being kept, but what if some secrets are better left unsaid? especially when they are deadly.

warnings: none as of now

a/n: this will possibly be a long fic, possibly one with 20 parts or so depending on how much i write in one part. the idea i have for this story is just something that popped up in my head whilst also reading draco fics lmao; i guess i got inspired and created my own ideas. let’s just hope i’m decent enough at writing it out, i haven’t wrote in years! so yeah, i’ll be rusty for the first few chapters so have faith in me readers! i hope it’s interesting enough for you to stay till the end hehe

please read!: this story will be set at chamber of secrets and as it progresses, the characters will age and so on, meaning we’re following the saga except i add my own twist into it. so in this chapter, the characters will be 12. sadly, draco won’t be mentioned yet but will appear in the next chapter. anyhoo stay tuned ♡

It was early in the morning that you had arrived at Kings Cross Station with your childhood best friend, Hermione, along with her parents which were twenty minutes away from your neighbourhood. Hermione was set to leave today to head back to ‘boarding school’ apparently, at least that’s what she told you a few months ago. She struck you with the news of her sudden change to a new school. A boarding school really? Out of all the local schools where some are known to be ‘the best to ensure a child’s successful future’ she chose a boring, drabby school that lies in a location of god-knows-where and goes by the name of ‘hoggywart’ or something weird.

You vividly remember her rushing into class squealing and grabbed you by the shoulders, jumping up and down. Being startled and slightly grumpy seeing someone so energetic on an early Monday morning, you calmed her down so you could find out what bizarre breakfast she had that made her so crazy. Hermione squeals once more before pulling out a thick, yellow-tainted letter out of her coat pocket. “I’m going to a new school!” you remember feeling so devastated hearing those words as it wasn’t what you were expecting to hear.

You wished for the last few months of your final year at primary school to be full of joy, excitement, adventure and other happy words that can be associated with it before you move up to your first year of secondary school. Unfortunately, it was going to be different once Hermione told you she was moving.

However, that wasn’t the only irritating part as it was the fact that she left you all alone to attend the school you both promised to go and graduate together. You had to force yourself to interact with others and make new friends when you started in your new school the last September.

Nevertheless, during the twenty-minute car ride to the station, you and Hermione had closely bonded for old times sake and it made you realise how lonely it was without her since she switched to a new school. You haven’t been in contact with her since then due to the multiple failed attempts at contacting her by sending letters that you concluded your longterm friendship was over as Hermione wasn’t sending letters back.

That was until she came back for the holidays and knocked on your doorstep. once you opened it, Hermione teared up at the sight of you and whined at you “Why didn’t you try to contact me?”

After explaining what had happened, the sadness faded from her face as she burst out of laughter and responded “You were supposed to owl me silly!” of course, when you heard her statement, you gave a confused look. You weren’t sure if she meant a real live animal was to be sent to her or what but you shrugged it off and stepped aside to let her inside your house so you both could catch up on lost time.

‘It probably was another saying for ‘mail me’ that she took up in her school.’ assuring yourself.

Throughout the winter holidays, she started saying phrases and words such as “Merlin!” or that she would pass up on hanging out because she had to do some ‘reading up on Herbology’. The more you spent time with her, the more you realised this girl was talking absolute nonsense and something was off about her. You figured it would be the school she was attending that caused her abnormal behaviour. But being the nice friend that you are, you offending her was the last thing you’d do so you didn’t dare try to bring it up.

but the day that Hermione was set to leave and board the train back to her school, was the day your suspicions of her became true.

●●●

You had witnessed something horrific, something that would possibly haunt you for the rest of your life. Witnessing Hermione run full speed with the cart full of her suitcases towards the pillar and had completely morphed into it was an image you’ll never get out of your head.

It’s understandable when people say children have such creative minds with the sorts they come up with for entertainment, but will people really believe a twelve-year-old who kept trying to explain that she had seen her best friend become one with a brick wall? Yeah, they’d think it was best to leave the child alone.

Yet surprisingly, your parents reacted differently. Your parents instantly believed you and begged you to share any evidence that made you come up with a bold statement. You had brought up the multiple scenarios that have occurred in the past; her abnormal behaviour, the words and phrases she’d spill out and the most bizarre one being you seeing Hermione hold a stick and doing motions with it the other day. Thus with that, your parents realised that everything was coming together.

“Y/N, Hermione’s a witch.”

A witch? Surely your parents are the crazy ones now. You can tell the differences between fact and false and witches existing on earth was obviously not true.

“What--”

“Listen to me dear, your best friend is a witch and what you have explained to us is true about Hermione.” Your mother kneels, putting both of her hands on your shoulders and stares deep into your eyes. You were starting to feel uncomfortable under her stare as well as feeling intimidated by the tension filling the atmosphere. You gulped.

“How do you know if it’s the truth mum?”

Your mother bites her lips, turning her head to the side to look at your father. both of them look unsure on how to respond but then you noticed it was like they were more scared to do so. Your father gives a shaky sigh and it was his turn to kneel and make you face him.

“Your mother and I... we’re also the same...”

Silence fills the room once again, not one daring to speak up, it was just multiple serious looks being exchanged between the family. That is until:

“...and so are you Y/N.”

You won’t lie and say it wasn’t terrifying hearing your own heartbeat fast. It was basically the only thing you could hear in the room due to how deadly quiet it was after what your father had declared to you. The words continued to echo throughout your ears. All your life you have been living like a normal child, your childhood being the most enjoyable experience as you were the only child in your family. Up until now, your parents have spoilt you with so much care, love and attention that you didn’t care for another younger or older sibling. Instead, you considered Hermione as your only sister more than best friends as you both grew up together.

Unfortunately, that has quickly come to a halt once you realised you were living your life as a lie. You’re not a normal girl anymore and your life was going to change from now on.

“What do you mean I’m the same? That can’t be true, I’m not like Hermione!” you yelled, pushing your mother’s hands away and stepped back. “Don’t lie to me!” you were experiencing variations of emotions at this moment, you weren’t sure if you should feel angry or upset, or possibly a hint of happiness that you and Hermione are similar?

Your mother sighed, standing up and dusted the dirt off her pants, your father also following her actions. Both of them took a seat at the dining table, facing you.

“It’s a secret we’ve been keeping from you since you were born,” your mother revealed. You slowly make your way towards the table to also take a seat in front of them. You had to know the reason as to why you have only just been told today. “You was born as a pureblood witch, your father and I share the same blood.”

“A pureblood?”

“It means every one of your descendant family members was born as wizards and witches, not one is a muggle.” your father added onto your mother’s explanation. “Muggles are non-wizard people. We made you pretend to live as one--”

“And why did you? Do you realise all this time I’ve been living my life as a lie and that I actually have something unique in me? Do you realise I’ve been seeing my best friend as a freak when I’m also the same? Do you--”

Your father slammed his hands on to the table, immediately shutting you up.“ENOUGH!” he roared, your mother jumped as her eyes widened in shock. “There’s a reason why we kept this a secret from you Y/N and you should be thankful that we did.”

“Thankful? for what exactly?” You scoffed earning a stern look from your mother. Sighing, your father sits back down as your mother strokes his arm in an attempt to calm him down. You figured you weren’t going to get an answer from your parents soon as the both of them stayed silent once more. Bowing your head down in defeat, you asked one more question in hopes that this will be answered but it was overclouded by a higher percentage of doubt.

“Why did you keep it as a secret?” you whispered. Still looking down, you fidgeted with your hands nervous for what is about to come.

"It’s best that you don’t know Y/N... maybe when the time is right, you’ll soon find out... and we hope it will be from us.” your father forces a small smile, his eyes clouded with guilt and sadness as he’s forced to make up an excuse and hopes you will accept it as an answer and move on. You slowly nodded and give up on asking more questions as it will only end up in more lies and excuses.

But what will it mean for you from now on? Now that you discovered your true blood and the powerful abilities you hold as a witch – well not powerful yet as you’re a novice in the magical world – will your life continue to be the same or will it change for the better or the worse?

Whilst your mind was zooming with thoughts and questions, you didn’t seem to notice that your parents were heavily discussing something. Pulling out of your thoughts, you could see them facing you with a serious look.

“Y/N, your father and I have been discussing your future...” your mother said, one of her hands slowly moving to lie on top of her husband’s hands. Giving a short but warm smile, she continues her sentence, “and we both decided to let you attend Hermione's school.”

Eyes widening, you felt an enormous surge of happiness rushing inside you. your face beamed with excitement as you jumped out of your seat and rushed to the other side of the table to hug your parents. “Oh thank you, thank you!” your parents laughed in response and you pulled away to shower them with more gratefulness.

“But promise us one thing dear...please stay safe,” your mother pleaded with you, turning her head to stare at you with a slightly distressed look but also supporting a small smile. anticipating for an answer, your father added onto her words, “Please...we beg of you.”

Holding both of their hands, you smiled.

“Always.”

●●●

The next morning arrived and you couldn’t wait to start a new day, not as a normal twelve-year-old who wore girly pyjamas to bed, but as a witch. Yes, you were finally going to live your life as one. Maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t going to be so bad and weird like you initially thought when you discovered the truth for the first time. Maybe learning spells and wearing a pointy, black hat like the ones you read in books might not be bad too.

You skipped your way to the dining room to eat breakfast, sitting in your usual seat once you entered the room and waited for your mother to bring the food around. Except your parents were already seated and there were no plates and cutlery set on the table.

Instead, a mysterious, very thick and old looking letter laid in front of them. wait–that’s the same letter you saw in hermione’s hands on that very day she told you she was moving to a new school.

“Is that...”

Your parents nodded, your father pushing the letter towards you while you strode over to rip it open.

You pulled the piece of paper out and to your surprise; it wasn’t like any normal letters you see in your father’s hands. Instead of the usual white paper, this one appeared to look and feel old and roughed up like it was soaked in coffee for a long time. Your eyes landed on the first few sentences before seeing your very own name addressed on it, seeing it made your heart skipped a beat. however, the next sentence was what really got you breathless:

‘We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.’

●●●

final a/n: please let me know what you think of it so far! i’m open to any feedback and constructive criticisms as well as any mistakes on my writing. i’m also open to any questions you have that might have confused you or needed more explanation on. thank you!

edited 16.02: fixed writing errors! hopefully all of them hehe

#draco #draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco x you #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x you #draco fanfic #draco imagine #draco scenario #harry potter #harry potter fanfic

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