#hogwarts houses as perfumes

[malachitechrysocolla]

Harry Potter themed perfumes by House of Sillage

[pepsichrry]

Ride || Theodore F. Nott

Summary: An arranged marriage between two Pureblood families is almost common, but what happens when a sudden infatuation is brought into the mix.

Set after the Battle of Hogwarts!

Warnings: Sexual content, smut, Mentions of violence, angst, unhealthy relationship, Theo is obsessed with his wife

—————————————————————————

Theo felt himself slipping away. Not quite how he did when he’d received the Dark Mark, and not quite how he did when he watched the life vanish from his mother’s eyes. This time, it felt different.

He watched you through foggy window panes in the dewy spring mornings and from across the dining table as you ate breakfast. He couldn’t stop watching you, and it drove him insane. His wife drove him insane. Of course he’d heard such sentences from his father’s colleagues and other men who complained, but those feelings were nothing alike Theo’s. Not like the pang in his heart when he watched you in the grassy fields of the estate or the fondness disguised by hard eyes as you exchanged pleasantries like strangers. After all, you really were strangers.

But Theo had come to know you like you didn’t even know yourself. To him, you were anything but a stranger.

He couldn’t even count the amount of times that he had dreamt of you sleeping beside him, feeling your warmth, imagining what it would be like to kiss you and please you like any husband would wish to, Merlin, like any man who lay eyes upon you would. If it weren’t for your complete lack of interest in him, he would have asked you to have your way with him already, but ever since the wedding, you hadn’t been interested in going near him at all. He couldn’t blame you, at first he had been opposed to marrying so young, claiming that his father was taking away his freedom, stripping him of his youth and leaving him to be stuck with a stranger in his house. But, oh, how wrong he was.

You were a delight, a pure and innocent light in the darkness of the family estate. You brought with you little possessions, maybe only a few dresses and boxes of trinkets, but you gave life to the creaking floorboards and dusty walls. In a matter of months, you’d planted flowers and fruit trees, stripped the dark rooms of misery and replaced it with sunlight and brighter decor. All of a sudden, the fires were lit and the house no longer sent a chill down your spine. That, at least, Theo could be grateful for.

Taking note of the subtle changes made, he always made sure to thank you with something or another, whether it be silky gowns, sparkling jewellery, shoes or perfume. But none of it seemed to impress you.

As time went on, Theo became aware of your distaste towards his expensive gifts and tried everything he could to satisfy you from an arms length, but it was difficult. When he’d been in school, a pretty bracelet would have been enough to get a girl to want him, but it seemed that there was nothing that he could give that made you want him. So he decided on giving you the only thing he could think that you’d want from him; space.

In leaving you alone, he began to observe you whenever he could, and in doing so, he started to understand that you didn’t desire dresses or sparkles to admire yourself in, though he did see you trying his previous gifts on in front of the mirror with a grin, and instead he realised that you enjoyed sitting in the library with a book or lounging in the garden eating fruits.

He admired you every day when you wore your lacy white dresses in the spring sunshine, hair falling over your sun-kissed shoulders. He admired you as you sipped at the fresh lemonade the house elves had prepared and watched as your soft lips enveloped the glass. He admired you as you lounged in the living room with bare feet on the oak floor. He even admired you in your bedroom from time to time as you slept, praying to Merlin that you wouldn’t wake up as he smoothed gentle fingers over your temple.

Sometimes, though, he wished that you would wake up, catch him in the act. He wondered what you’d say, how your face would contort into confusion or shock, he wondered if you’d let him stay. So, as time went on, he visited you every night whilst you slept, enjoying the close calls and nervousness that ran through him at the thought of you waking up. He took pleasure in the thumping of his heart and how you stirred in your sleep from time to time as the mattress dipped beside you. Every night, he wanted to kiss your plump lips as you slept, wondering if the action would wake you or if you’d be angry if he did. He knew it’d be wrong, but he couldn’t help how much he wanted to kiss your beautiful lips and freckled skin.

He imagined how it’d feel to run his lips and tongue over your body, lose himself in the supple curves of your hips and breasts or in the soft feeling of your hair. Sometimes he’d dream it too and wake up sticking to his sheets with a mixture of sweat and precum. It was a guilty pleasure to relieve himself thinking of you and everything he did to you in his imagination.

You were a sinful temptation wrapped in pure white bedsheets and gowns, tormenting him until he had to excuse himself from dinner with a swollen cock and a pink face.

His wife drove him insane. And she was oblivious.

One night, as Theo dodged the creaky floorboards outside of your bedroom, he heard it. The soft sigh falling from your lips, indicating that you weren’t asleep. The warm light emitting from the ajar door drew him in, enticing him into pushing gently against the barrier between him and you. And upon opening the door, he saw you.

You lay spread across the bed, hair framing your head like a shining halo in lamplight as your nightgown was pulled up to your stomach, held in place by one hand whilst the other reached between your open legs, though the sight was obscured by the flesh of your thigh as you lay parallel to the door.

Theo cursed mentally, wishing that you’d lay with your head on your pillow so that he could really see what your hand was toying with. He felt himself grow hot and shifted as his trousers tightened uncomfortably, alerting you of his presence when you heard the creak of a floorboard. Fuck. You looked at him with wide eyes, a deer caught in headlights as you ripped your small hand from between your thighs. Before you could even begin to stutter, Theo chocked out a bashful ‘Sorry’ before turning and slamming the door behind him.

In that moment, he wished that the ground would swallow him up. He had never been so shy around a girl, especially one that was lying, touching herself in his house, not that there had been any before. His head softly thumped against your door as he slumped back. But he didn’t have much time to feel sorry for himself as your door opened suddenly.

He spun to look at you. It had seemed that you’d smoothed down your wild hair before coming to find him as it hung over your shoulders like usual. Your eyes met his in the darkness of the hallway and he nearly collapsed. Between the blood from his head running to his groin and the look in your eyes, he thought that maybe he would collapse, but he cleared his throat and straightened up to his full height to look down at you with his usual stoic expression.

Your eyes trailed down his neck, to his chest and then, they looked straight down to the sizeable bulge in his slacks. He had worn neatly ironed trousers and a button down shirt to visit his father that day, and secretly wished that he had changed his clothes before coming to see you that night. It would have been more comfortable for his raging hard-on.

“Would you like to come in?”

Theo’s prayers must have been answered, because your soft voice lead him through your doorframe. He barely even registered what was going on until he was sat on your mattress like many nights before, but this time, you were awake, looking at him with lustrous eyes and flushed skin on your cheeks, neck and…

You leaned into him once he was settled on your bed and brushed your damp lips onto his own. His jaw hung open and his eyes were wide as they looked at you. This must have been a dream.

Surely he was awake judging by the feeling of your lips on his own and the hammering of his heart and the throbbing between his legs. You kissed him with fervour, running your hands over his shoulders tenderly and Theo sighed at the feeling of your touch, it was something he hadn’t felt before. You hadn’t even touched him during the wedding, not even for a dance, let alone at night. You had never consummated your marriage and he had never been so aware of the fact. He leant into your hands, chest rising and falling heavily as his head spun and his body overheated.

You hushed him quietly, running your hand through his brown curls and straddling his lap quickly, sighing as you felt the bulge in his lap against your bare core beneath your night dress. It had been drilled into your head that as a Pureblood woman, you must remain as pure as possible until you were inevitably married off, meaning you’d never been in any position similar to this. You didn’t even know what to do with the boy who began to run his rough hands over your back as he hungrily kissed you. But something about the situation made you giddy, here he was, you could finally have him all to yourself. The gorgeous, brown-haired beauty you’d snagged up.

You ground down into his lap on instinct, something sparking deep inside of you at the sound of his throat emitting a deep noise. Your mouth hung agape, breathing hot air onto the column of his neck once you’d tugged his hair back to reveal the expanse of his skin.

Theo felt like prey under your scorching touch. He wanted nothing more than to feel what you had been touching so dearly before he’d interrupted you. He wondered what it looked like, what it smelled like, what it tasted like. Merlin, how he wanted to taste it. To have what he’d imagined so vividly above him, restricted by nothing but a layer of clothing drove him to insanity. He couldn’t help but rut into you from where he sat below you.

He felt the pressure of your palm on his chest, encouraging him to lay his back against the silk sheets. Theo was down, obeying your every wish as you kissed fiercely, hands claiming every inch of his burning body, fiery like a sinner in church, your fingertips the devil, searing the flesh from his bones and torturing him in ways incapable of any human being responsible of.

His body throbbed, lungs heaving and struggling and his heart hammering against his ribcage. His legs and hands shook like they never had before and Theo did wonder why his body reacted the way it was.

Your lips let a soft sound pass through them again as his hips jolted, the bulge in his trousers pressed at the perfect angle, his cold belt buckle rubbing against your slick clit with a pleasurable shock. The boy was almost thrashing beneath you as he was oh, so eager to hear the noise again. His large hands encouraged you to press down against his need, spurring a deep sigh from him. You didn’t know why you hadn’t done this before.

“Is this what you imagine when you watch me?” You asked, and his body stilled minus the shivering of his hands and legs.

A frown dragged at his brow as you pulled your warm face away from his. “I-What?”

You grinned devilishly. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice how you sneak in here each night? Now answer me, is this what you imagine?”

The air was knocked out of him when your body ground down onto his again, forcing the answer out of him. He wheezed, “Yes!” His head falling back harshly onto the pillow as his eyes scrunched closed as if it hurt to watch you work atop of him. Your hand threaded through his curls, scraping gently at his scalp and tipping his head aside, revealing the moles scattered up his throat. You hungrily attack the expanse of his neck, leaving him purple and pink.

His body fell slack, allowing you to take him in any way that you pleased. With your mouth against his neck and your pussy against his groin, he felt himself grow closer and closer to succumbing to his own pleasure. The white hot light in his eyes grew closer and his mouth tasted the familiar sweetness of lust, all he needed was for you to keep going, then he was sure to release all tension. He needed it more than he’d needed anything before.

Theo tried to call out, but his breath was gone and his head span in circles, so all that could be said was nothing but the most pathetic noises he’d made. He whined as you scratched circles into his hair and bruised his neck with your sweet mouth. He pawed desperately at your body atop of him, searching for any way to force you harder onto his swollen length.

You felt his body shake and his chest rattle with unsure breaths, so hesitantly, you slowed your hips until you halted, appreciating the groan that slipped past Theo’s lips at the lack of friction.

Hushing him gently with a finger over his lips, you smiled sweetly at him. His eyes were bleary and almost unfocused as he looked up at you. A careful hand reach up to smooth over your face in attempts to bring you back down to his lips, but it was to no avail. He breathed out a tiny noise of complaint.

You brushed over his face gently. “I just need you to be quiet, Love, can you do that?”

It felt nearly as if he was in pain without the feeling of your hips rocking onto him, but he obeyed, nodding his head vigorously.

“Good.” You whispered, lifting yourself from him. Theo nearly complained until he realised where you were steadying yourself.

Your knees dug into the mattress on either side of his shoulders, wetness hovering over his shirt and he nearly thought he was about to pass out.

“Allow me?” You ask him. You knew the answer, but you waited quietly for his response.

“Fuck! Yes.” He twitched beneath your legs.

Slowly, almost teasingly, you found the end of your nightgown with your fingers. You toyed with the hem, brushing the soft lace against his clean-shaven chin as his jaw slackened. His mouth was open, heaving in breaths as his eyes watched intently as you lifted the gown up to your belly. Theo was downright salivating at the sight of your pretty little pussy right in front of him. He slid a hand from your backside, all the way up the front of your stomach, taking the nightgown from your hand and pulling it over your head. He hungrily stared over your body, drinking in your beautiful skin and rivets and dips.

His large hands dragged over your sides until they parted, one trailing down to your hip and the other to your full chest. His mouth was ready to feel you, to map out the entirety of your core, ready in his mind to remember when he sinfully touched himself.

Your hands reached to the headboard, pulling yourself up the the pillows, where his head lay, and you lowered yourself onto his eager mouth.

Instantly, his lips engulfed your clit, suckling at it as his hands held your hips firmly over him. As soon as he touched you, you couldn’t help but moan at the feeling. His tongue lapped at you with boiling hot accuracy and you fell victim to the wet sounds of your bodies connecting.

Your head lulled to the side, body weakened at the pleasure he was giving to you. His tongue ran in vigorous circles and you ground against his face in an attempt to make him lick harder.

Your forehead rested on the headboard, knuckles whitening as the sounds were becoming more and more obscene. Theo pressed you down harder onto him and between licking at your sensitive pussy, he sucked harsher and harsher. Your pearly juices were helping you slide over his mouth but he didn’t care that it was coating him more and more as he encouraged you to press onto him. The taste of you was sure to linger on his tongue, and he welcomed the thought eagerly.

His teeth grazed against your skin and you whined, reaching a hand down to his locks, hoping that just your hand would comfort him slightly despite the rough grinding of your pussy on his face. But by the desperate sounds he was making, he didn’t seem to mind at all.

The mixture of your juices and his saliva dripped down his neck and onto the pillow. His chest heaved up and down relentlessly as he awaited your climax. He wanted nothing more than to make you come.

He moaned into your pussy, the vibrations of his deep voice sending a shiver through you. Your entrance was beating and you could your thighs feeling light at his continuous movements. You were close.

Once you felt the familiar sensation run through you, your other hand came down to grip at his hair as you jerked over his jaw, thighs clenching around his head. Theo felt you squeeze his head, causing an odd lightheadedness to come over him, but not just in his head.

His legs went numb and his vision blurred as his cock leaked spurts of hot cum into his underwear. You still hadn’t stopped grinding on his face, feeling the last of your orgasm as he rode his out all the same. He shook gently, sucking harshly on your clit as you squealed at the sensitivity.

You soon came back down, legs shaking, still squeezing your husband’s head. You quickly realised how red his face was becoming and you were sure that you were killing him. Your legs quickly swung back over him and you sat beside him, viewing the result of your orgasm. His face was pink and his mouth hung open, taking in as much air as possible. His face was covered from his neck to his cheeks with slick and his eyes were closed shut. That was when you noticed the dark stain on his slacks.

You hoped to see him in your bed again.

pt.2

[knapptapp]

Elevator- JamesPotter x GN!Reader

WC: 950

You are stuck in a muggle elevator with James Potter, Who wont stop flirting with you

Tags: Fluff, angst(?), Sarcastic reader, Slytherin reader, Flirty James Potter, Insecure reader

A/N: Wrote this from a prompt, trying to dip my toes into the Marauders fandom not a fully fleshed out fic or anything. A little experiment

“This might be a bad time to mention it, but I really like your perfume.”

“Oh shut up,” You said with a scowl as you once again pushed the emergency button.

Professor Corbyn had thought it a wonderful idea to assign the seventh year class a lengthy list of ‘muggle activities’ to complete. She had also thought up the brillant of idea of assigning partners randomly. Though you had your doubts about the “randomness”.

Still, it was a project worth a good chunk of your grade. As much as you wanted to, you couldn't blow it off. Which is how you ended up stuck in an elevator with James fucking Potter. James who thought your perfume was of utmost importance at the moment.

“No seriously, it's quite lovely.”

You ignored him and pressed the call button. A moment passed…..Nothing. Great, not even the phone was working.

“Where did you get it? From Diagon alley or-”

“Can you be useful for once?” You interrupted.

James pushed himself away from the wall he had been leaning on, “Can you apparate?”

“No.” You admitted begrudgingly. Getting your license was on your to do list, there just hadn't been enough time. You were really starting to regret not putting it up higher on your list. You fanned yourself with your hand.

“Someone will come for us eventually.” James said with a shrug. He seemed completely care free and not at all worried about the situation at hand.

“Yeah. If we don't die from heatstroke before then.” You settled against the wall opposite of him and slid down till you were seated. It was just a tad bit cooler down on the floor.

“I know how you could cool off.” James said with a smirk. Just in case you hadn't understood his comment, he lifted just the hem of his shirt to reveal a sliver of tanned skin. You quickly looked away, but not before you caught a glimpse of a dark trail of hair disappearing beneath the waistband of his jeans.

“Oh fuck off.”

James copied you and slid down to the floor. Instead of sitting with his legs tucked up to his chest like yours, he instead stretched them all the way out. The elevator was tiny and James’ legs were long, the sides of his red converse knocked against your thighs. Cloth shopping had been another part of the project.

“Have I told you your shoes are ugly?”

“Many times,” James responded unphased, “You just don't like them because they're red.”

“Horrible color.”

“I think you'd look really nice in red. Got one shade specifically in mind actually.”

“Yeah, no” You fidgeted with the fraying sleeve of your dark green jumper. House pride was taken very seriously in Hogwarts. Wearing gryffindor red was an act of betrayal.

“You would,” He insisted, “I even have a jumper that would look perfect on you! Says ‘Potter’ right across the back.”

“Careful now James, I might think you're hitting on me.”

“Did it take you this long to notice?”

You knocked his foot away with your palm. James allowed it before he returned it back to tapping against your thigh. He was such a tease. He had been on this since you two got assigned partners.

“Ha Ha very funny,” You replied dryly.

He tapped his foot rhythmically against your leg, you tried your best to ignore it. The elevator was completely silent. The music had cut off when the elevator had come to a sudden stop with a metallic screech. There was nothing but the sounds of James and your breathing.

Your whole body was on edge. You couldn't help but keep anticipating the worst. Any movement made you feel like the elevator would go crashing to the ground below, You were stuck on the seventh floor and you had heard one to many horror stories.

“I'm bored,” James said, “We should do something.”

“Like what?”

“Why don't we play a game of truth or dare?” suggested James.

“Truth or dare? Seriously?”

“What else do you have in mind?” he replied smugly.

“Fine, let's play.” you agreed reluctantly.

“Okay, I'll start. Truth or dare?” James challenged.

You sat for a moment, mulling over your choices. There weren't many dare options while stuck in an elevator, but everyone and their mothers knew James Potter was a master prankster. He could probably come up with something within a second. Hell, he probably already had fifty dares planned out. Better to play it safe then.

“Truth.”

“Okay..” James pretended to think for a moment, he stroked his chin and gazed up at the roof dramatically, “Why don't you like me?”

Oh. Straight into it. You looked away from him uncomfortably. The thing was, you didn't not like him. Honestly, it was the opposite. But you couldn't let him know that. You would never hear the end of it.

“I don't not like you…You're just loud…” You said carefully.

“I think i’m quite charming honestly,” James smirked.

“Yeah, you think that.” You said with an eye roll

“You don't think I am?” James tilted his head to the side, one loose curl fell in front of his eyes. God damn it. Yes, you wanted to say. I've thought that you are charming since fourth year. But of course, you don't say any of it.

“Not at all.”

“You're forgetting the rules of the game again.” He teased. He leaned forward, only a couple inches closer than before, but still all too close.

“I’m not lying.” You attempted to sound confident and self assured but you couldn't manage to bring your voice above a whisper.

The gods must have heard your prayers because the phone on the wall rang. James and you stared at each other for a moment. He finally pulled his eyes away from you and stood up to answer the phone. You and your feelings were safe for another day.

[goodoldfashionlovercorpse]

Casual (pt. 2)

pairing: Sirius Black x slytherin! potter! reader

summary: Y/n Potter has been in love with Sirius for as long as she's known him. During their 6th year at Hogwarts, they start hooking up. Sirius declares it casual, but are they both truly ok with this secret?

a/n: this is part two of my Sirius series! hope you enjoy. @hisparentsgallerryy and @planets-and-stars thanks for the support !!

warnings: angst, secret fwb situationship, jealousy, explicit language

Classes went on as normal: a few people passed while others clung for dear life. Unfortunately, Y/n shared a class with him, the one she fell for. She couldn’t pinpoint why she was glaring at him, maybe it was what Lucius had told her. All Sirius did was pretend she didn’t exist until the night. Somehow, he pays more attention to class when she’s in the room. James had sat next to her. She always felt guilty for hooking up with his best friend, he was such a good brother. Even when she was sorted, he bragged about his sister proudly, flaunting the fact she was the brains to his brawns. Sirius got paired with Snape, who was sending her glances that screamed “Help!” every time Sirius said something dumb. Gods, why did she stare at his lips? She always sent Snape a sorrowful expression, reassuring it’s just a partnership for the week. Potions had to be Snape’s and Sirius’s best class, so she didn’t worry that much.

“Ok, so, this week we’ll be brewing Amortentia. It’s powerful, so no one is allowed to drink any of it. Got that?” Slughorn asked, receiving hums from every student, “Right, now turn to page 201 and get started, you have all your ingredients set up. Have fun and remember, the first 3 groups to finish receive 5 house points each!”

As soon as Slughorn finished, James turned to the page. “Alright, I’ll dictate, you add. This should be finished by today, then ready by tomorrow.”

Y/n added the rose thorns, the pearl dust, and all the other ingredients, slowly stirring them. The twins looked at each other with puzzling gazes. “How is this gonna take people a week?”

“Maybe he wants it perfect?”

“Maybe.”

As the pair finished, Slughorn came behind them 20 minutes later. He congratulated the two and encouraged them to sniff. “What do you smell?”

James chimed up first, “Books, tea, that sweet scent of spring.” Ever the romantic, he described. From scents to scenarios, he gushed for 10 minutes as Lily stared at him, smiling. He played with his hands and then blushed once he was done. Turning to his sister, “And you, sis?”

Y/n went near and sniffed. She knew what she smelled, she knew who she smelled. But if Slytherins are taught one thing, it’s acting. “Some leather, a bit of peanut butter, and… dog?” She tried not to scrunch her nose, trying hard to come up with something, anything, to find someone else to match. Sirius was staring at her, his gaze locked on hers. “Maybe it’s Paul McCartney?” the crowd laughed. She stared at Sirius, no smile present on either faces.

Soon three more groups described their scents, the last one being Snape and Sirius. Snape described a simple smell, but she knew he smelled nothing, love just wasn’t his thing. Sirius, on the other hand, tried to finish it quickly. His hands were on his neck, resting on thin air as he bragged bout perfume and chocolate. The very things she liked. “I guess there’s the scent of a night out, doing makeup and dress-ups or whatnot,” he added, the corner of his eye directed at her. James was puzzled, staring Sirius down with pressed brows. She continued looking at Sirius’s table, seeing how Snape tried hiding under the table as girls came flocking towards their table. 

“That’s so romantic!”

“I need to buy more perfume…”

“Hey, Sirius, wanna go out?”

Before you knew it, they were being whisked off by Prof. Slughorn to go to their desks. As class ended, only four out of ten groups had finished, much to her surprise. She started packing up, getting ready for her next class. Snape came up to her as James went over to Sirius. “Can’t believe I got paired with him.”

She shrugged, “You’re both top students, it can’t have been that bad.”

“It is when you’re stared at by everyone  to smell something that’s not there.”

“Hey, everyone believed you.” she pats his back and smiles, gaining a half smile from Snape. The two went out of class, having no clue of Sirius staring at them, a layer of jealousy coated in his gaze. One that didn't go unnoticed by James. The Potter shoved his friend, mumbling something about ‘brotherly duties’. Perhaps tonight will be the night… then again, it was always casual.

Y/n and Snape went along with their classes, being joined by their other friends, but mainly just Lucius. Lucius was quite excited about the Ravenclaw party, and Snape planned on studying. Both gave her a glance, though. A sort of questioning look. “He’ll be there,” Lucius said.

She shrugged, looking down. It wouldn’t have made a difference, she would seen him tonight regardless of whether she attended, that’s how they worked. “I’ll probably go to help James and Lily.” she earned a shrug from Lucius, the other male yapping about homework and studies.

“We should start preparing for our test next week, though.”

“Relax, Sev, that’s days ahead.”

At least friendships weren’t casual, Y/n thought, laughing along with Lucius and hugging Snape. They departed at the common rooms, her having to go up. She smiled, maybe tonight will be about her.

[st4rr-girrl]

Video Games

M.R

Summary; The toxic relationship between Mattheo and (Y/n).

Warnings; unrequited love, asshole Mattheo, NSFW, slight smut, angst, swearing.

A/N; this was my first song fic— but I hope you like it! This took me like two hours to write and I’m not joking 😭😭

Based on the song — video games, by Lana Del Rey

Swinging in the backyard.

Pull up in your fast car.

Whistling my name.

“(Y/n!)” Mattheo called out, with a wide, slap-able grin on his face. He was seated in the front seat of his fast, expensive mustang— watching your figure as you swung on the swing located in front of your house. It was summer, which meant you didn’t have to be at Hogwarts.

You excitedly hopped off the swing, your hair flowing in the wind as you rushed up to his car with a smile. “Hi Mattheo.” You cooed to your boyfriend, opening the car door and getting seated in the passenger seat. He nodded in acknowledgment, his eyes scanning up and down your body— but never landing on your face.

Without another word, he drove you to his house.

Open up a beer,

And you say, "Get over here

And play a video game.”

“(Y/n)! Check out this new video game I just got!” Mattheo called out from his bedroom. Wearing a white tank top, and underwear— as you two had just had intercourse— you kicked the fridge shut gently, and brought the two beers in your hand to his bedroom. You smiled sadly, your gaze flickering to the TV— which had his newest video game displayed on it. He was seated on his bed, biting his lip in concentration as his hands guided their way over his controller. You sat down in his bed, opening the beer and taking a swig before tossing the other beer next to him.

I'm in his favourite sundress.

Watchin' me get undressed,

Take that body downtown.

You were getting ready for a date with Mattheo, smiling to yourself in the mirror as you applied your lipgloss. You were wearing Mattheo’s favorite sundress, along with his favorite perfume— in order to please him. You ruffled your hair up, to give it more volume, before standing up as you heard a honk outside your house. You happily strolled downstairs, a small pep in your step as you opened the front door. A wide grin melting into your delicate features as you walked to his car, opening it and taking a seat in the passenger side.

“Hi baby.” You smiled, kissing his cheek affectionately. His eyes scanned up and down your body, before he bit his lip and turned his gaze back to the road and started to drive.

“You look amazing.” He complimented, making your cheeks flush and your heart pound.

You offered a cheeky grin, staring at your lap and clasping your hands together. “Thank you.”

-

Mattheo sat on his bed, watching as you slowly took your sundress off. His gaze was filled with lust and hunger as he stared at your body, biting his lip subconsciously. You wanted nothing more than to please him, and do whatever he asked of you.

-

You were laying in bed with Mattheo on top you you. “Fuck, baby. Your body is so hot.” He spoke breathlessly, pulling himself out of you before grabbing the beer on his nightstand. He stood up, putting his boxers on before walking to his TV and turning it on, before sitting back in bed and opening up his video game.

I say “You the bestest.”

Lean in for a big kiss,

Put his favorite perfume on.

Go play your video game.

“You’re the best, Mattheo.” You whispered, leaning up and kissing him passionately. He kissed back, in a half-assed manner— his eyes still glued onto his video game. You pulled away, frowning slightly as he turned his full attention to the video game. Heaving a sigh, you stood up and walked to the bathroom. You wet a rag, cleaning up what Mattheo had left behind on your skin with a small, sad frown.

It’s you, it’s you, it’s all for you.

Everything I do.

I tell you all the time,

“Heaven is a place on earth with you.” You whispered, your hand running through his hair as he laid in your lap, playing his video game. He didn’t seem to be listening, however. “Tell me all the things you wanna do.” You cooed seductively, biting your lip as he raised a brow, redirecting his attention to you with a lustful smile. If intercourse is what you had to do to get his attention, you’d do it. But instead he turned his attention back to his video game, with a shrug— insinuating he only wanted to play his video game without you getting involved.

I heard you like the bad girls, honey.

Is that true?

“What’s your type?” Theo asked Mattheo with a small smirk, assuming he’d describe you. Neither of them seemed to notice your presence lingering behind the corner of the hallway— peeking into the living-room where the two boys were smoking and drinking.

“I like bad girls.” Mattheo replied with a smirk of his own, raising a brow. Theo looked slightly surprised, and raised a brow aswell. You weren’t a bad girl. You were a good girl, who got good grades and stayed out of trouble. You frowned, backing up and walking down the hallway.

-

After summer, you returned to Hogwarts.

“Take it back, bitch!!” You shouted, kicking and punching the air as a Professor dragged you off of a girl. The girl had a fat lip, and forming bruises as she was also being dragged away from you.

“Never, slut!” She screeched, trying to pull away from the Professor to attack you.

Before you met Mattheo, you would’ve never done something like this. You would’ve simply kept your head down and kept walking. But after the conversation you overheard, you tried your hardest to be the one he wanted.

Mattheo smirked as he saw this, his amusement arising as he stared at you. He was turned on, but felt no sort of affection towards you. He was apathetic.

-

You and Mattheo were sitting in his bed in his dorm room, and per usual, he was invested in his video game. You grabbed a cigarette, lighting it and numbly staring at the screen as you took a drag. Mattheo smirked with a raised brow, turning his head towards you. “Since when do you smoke?” He snickered cruelly.

“Since now.”

It’s better than I ever even knew.

They say the world was built for two.

Only worth living is somebody is loving you.

And baby, now you do.

With your newfound personality change for Mattheo, his interest in you rose— only noticeably to you. You soaked up the attention, getting into fights, smoking, drinking, getting piercings, anything to get his attention. It was working.

Swingin’ in the old bars,

Swingin’ with the old stars,

Livin’ for the fame.

You felt famous. Not only were you collecting the sliver of attention from Mattheo, but the people at school seemed to notice the behavior from you. Mattheo found it amusing, others found it disturbing and dramatic, but teachers found it disappointing and heartbreaking.

Kissin’ in the blue dark,

Playin’ pool and wild darts,

Video games.

You were at a party, sitting down on the couch and chugging the alcohol from your bottle. You were already drunk, and on the verge of blacking out. The music was muffled, and your eyes were red and half lidded. Mattheo was speaking with his friends, before noticing you. He strolled over to you, and took a seat next to you.

He holds me in his big arms,

Drunk and I am seeing stars,

This is all I think of.

You started making out with Mattheo in the corner passionately. A red solo cup half empty with alcohol, and a burning cigarette in your opposite hand. You were drunk, and the world was spinning— but you felt safe in Mattheo’s arms.

Watchin’ all our friends fall,

In and out of old Paul’s.

This is my idea of fun.

Video games.

Your friends got drunk every other night, stealing the alcohol from the Old Paul’s bar, with fake IDS. You joined them, stumbling in and out of the bar feeling giddy and giggly from the alcohol in your veins.

It’s you, it’s you, it’s all for you.

Everything I do.

I tell you all the time,

“Heaven is a place on earth with you.” You reminded him, as he played his video games— even though you knew he wouldn’t be listening to you. “Tell me all the things you wanna do.” You tried speaking, but he was completely and utterly enamored in the video game he was playing. With a defeated sigh, you laid down and smoked a cigarette, staring at the ceiling.

I heard you like all the bad girls, honey.

Is that true?

Even as you continued being a bad influence, he slowly got used to it— which meant less attention. You felt defeated. You stayed up, wondering how he could put you through so much and not even feel a single inch of love towards you. After the things you did for him. The effort you put into your relationship. You felt lost, and unloved.

It’s better than I ever even knew.

They say the world was built for two.

Only worth living if somebody is loving you.

And baby, now you do.

After a while, you gave up on trying to grab his attention by being a troublemaker. You felt so alone. You stopped trying so hard, and your relationship only surrounded sex. You started being less of a troublemaker, and focused more on school than anything else.

It’s you, it’s you, it’s all for you.

Everything I do.

I tell you all the time,

“Heaven is a place on earth with you.”

“Tell me all the things you want to do.”

I heard you like the bad girls, honey.

Is that true?

He started to miss your voice. He started to miss how you would constantly boost his ego, and support him with whatever he was doing. How you would do small things for him, and how much affection you showered him in. How much trouble you’d get into just to be considered ‘his type.’

It’s better than I ever even knew.

They say the world was built for two.

Only worth living if somebody is loving you.

And baby, now you do.

He loved you now. But it was too late. You had broken up with him, separated yourself from your friends and focused on your schoolwork. He stared at you in the halls, during class, during dinner, breakfast, and lunch. He looked at your face. Something he failed to do when you were together. Now he was the one who had to fight for your attention. And holy fuck, it hurt him so bad.

And now you do.

Now you do.

Now you do.

Now you do.

Now you do.

Baby, now you do.

(Requested by @priyanichhabra)

Master list located on my pinned post!

[slu7formen]

hey bby! I wanted to request cedric x slytherin!reader. she is known as an ice princess, very elegant and intelligent but has no friends. she falls for THE cedric but has no hopes to even be with him. how would their story end? it would bring me so much closure 💕 thank you so much in advance

hi sweetie! thanks for requesting 🥹 and i love this story! hope you enjoy 🫶🏻 also, sorry for the wait.

melting heart | cedric diggory x f.r

cedric diggory x fem!reader

you were known for being an ice princess. being a slytherin, coming from a rich family, one of the smartest in your class; the whole package. but then you accidentally drank verisaterum, and the person you bumped with… had to be Cedric Diggory, the boy you liked for years.

warnings: language, the twins doing something illegal, emotional reader, little use of yn

reminder: english’s not my first language, so I apologize do any spelling mistakes.

slu7formen’s masterlist | cedric diggory’s masterlist

“Morning, (yln)”

“Malfoy”

Of course, he didn’t say anything as you walked out of the Slytherin common room on your way to have breakfast. but you felt his blue eyed intense stare in your back. Unfortunately, you lived in a world where even Draco Malfoy thought that hanging out with you was… not good, but since his parents knew yours, saying hi to you was the least thing he had to do, mainly because it was his parents request.

You decided to go alone this morning. Well, you were always alone, but when you do have company, it’s your cat; Hara. She looked very pleased with her sleeping position, so bothering her was not an option.

You could say she was your only friend, the only one you had ever since your first year at Hogwarts and now, on your sixth year, everything was the same. Did you hate it? Not at all. You got used to being alone, even though you hated it at first.

Your family has a reputation, therefore, you do too. People say you’re an ice princess, they say that if looks could kill, many students would be dead by now and you’d easily be responsible for it. Despite your very low desire of having friends or even sharing your life with wizards and witches, they said many other things about you too that could have easily be something that describes the sweetest girl in the world.

The way you walk, as smooth as if you could float, small but decided and confident steps. Always smelling fresh, like just showered; whoever sat next to you could sense it so strong that some even said that your perfume is made with amortentia.

Besides, you were also your house Prefect.

Truth was, you were an easy center of attention, even when you didn’t want it. A Slytherin girl who’s family is rumored to be richer than the Malfoy’s, her best friend is her black cat, always wearing the most expensive jewelry, spending as much time in the library as possible to study and also someone who’s extremely intelligent that shows its passion for Defense Against the Dark Arts, being at the top of her class? How could you not be someone that people talked about?

You were a whole mystery. But they were too afraid to even try to discover you.

You didn’t know who even started to say that you were not someone good to be with, so you couldn’t understand anything at your first year and cried yourself to sleep every night because no one wanted to be around you. With time, it got better, maybe it’s better to be alone than being sorrunded by bad people, you thought, and it always made you feel better when your stone cold heart was about to melt when you felt too vulnerable.

But no one, definitely no one… makes you feel as vulnerable as Cedric Diggory.

Of course you knew who he was, who didn’t? He was a revolutionary insanely attractive guy that caught every girl’s attention even in his first year. For your first year in Valentine’s day, he received at least twelve letters and a massive box of chocolates gifted by an anonymous girl at your grade, and he didn’t hesitate on sharing it with his friends. On second grade, he gained even more popularity after becoming a part of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, and by fifth grade already, many girls were desperate to ask him on a date and fantasize about what being their girlfriend was like.

You couldn’t deny that you were one of those girls… not the girlfriend part, but the one that could easily fall for him if your heart gave the chance.

You liked him in first grade, secretly, but as the months went by, the colder you became, the more you avoided him, and the more you forgot about his existence, just being another person you know that would not be relevant in your life.

At least, not until he bumped into you just when the year started, three months ago.

You were walking with your hands full of books, almost covering your view as you tried to find your way to your dorm again. Hara was next to you, as always, and you secretly wished she was a human the whole time so she could transform back into her original shape and carry some books for you.

That didn’t happen.

What did happen, is that you gasped as your books bumped into someone’s body; for the second time. The first one ran away when she offered to help you and you yelled at her to leave you alone, because you were too angry to even let her help you.

But how could you yell at his face?

“Oh, Merlin” he had said before quickly getting on one knee, and his big hands already started to pick up three books. You just stood there… silent. “I’m so sorry, I was coming around the corner and-…”

Your tired and big sigh interrupted his words. “It’s fine.” your voice said as you got on both of your knees as you fixed a piece of tour hair behind your ear. “It’s the second time today.”

“I’m sorry” he said again, much sadder this time, and you noticed. You thought you maybe were too hard on your words, or your tone, or the way your face was clenched, but why would you care? Weren’t you always like that?

You didn’t answer though, just silently picking up your heavy and boring looking books from the floor.

Cedric had looked up at you twice while picking up the books. He recognized you from the hallways and his classes, but didn’t find the need to introduce himself; he thought you wouldn’t care a bit. Of course, he had to think just the same way as everyone else.

You secretly wished he didn’t, but you also thought that this was going to be the only time that you saw him and actually talked.

“Are you going to your dorm?”

You frowned your eyebrows at him as you lifted your head. His brown were hidden behind some hair that fell on his forehead as his lips were parted, waiting for your answer. You nodded your head, suddenly remembering that you were actually talking to him, not staring at a fucking statue. You slapped yourself internally, feeling stupid.

“Yeah” your answer was short.

“Let me help you then, it’s the least I can do”

God, could he be more perfect?

But your hard ass had to complain.

“No, it’s okay. I know my way”

You heard his laugh when you picked up the last book from the floor.

“I know you do, but I want to help you. They’re too heavy for you”

You sighed loudly again, and with an annoyed expression on your hardly visible face, you said; “Look, I don’t need help, okay? Just-…” you stopped when you looked to your left. Hara was always there, but not this time. “Where’s Hara?” the fear in your voice alerted Cedric’s ears.

“Who’s Hara?”

“My cat!” you almost yelled, letting your books fall again as you quickly got up, already disappearing into the corner in which the brunette guy came from. “Hara?”

He was quick to follow behind you. “It’s a black cat, right?”

“What?” you asked, turning your head as you found him standing next to your body, looking down at you. “No! I’m not letting you help me find my cat”

“Well, too bad” he muttered before walking past you and brushing your shoulder. You scoffed, surprised with wide eyes as you heard how he called your cat’s name and made those same little noises that everyone does when they are trying to find a cat.

He did not fall for your complaining. Why did you like it so much?

“Ugh!” you shouted towards the ceiling while letting your arms rise up and then fall heavily to your sides. “Hara!” you screamed, knowing damn well that that would not make her come to you again, but being the only thing that came out of your mouth.

You could still hear Cedric’s voice as you silently looked for Hara in the cold hallways, books long forgotten, probably getting stepped on by many students.

For what felt like ten minutes, you were already convinced that Cedric was long gone and had stopped looking for your cat. Your thought got you relaxed, but also worried, were you too harsh on him? Too rude? You didn’t want to be rude with him, or with anyone but it was just what came out of you.

Cedric didn’t run away though. No, he stayed, he insisted. He had to be one of the few if not the only person that ever did that to you, at least for the past three years…

“yn!”

And then he called your name.

A single name falling from his rosy and pumped lips, letting it fall like thick and sweet honey that tasted as magnificent as the sweetest chocolate or cherry. You liked how it sounded, coming from him.

You turned your back, and he almost smiled when he noticed what he had in his arms, and the way your eyebrows instantly came back to their original not-worried expression.

Hara seemed a little too comfortable in his arms as she looked around nervously, as if she saw something she shouldn’t, or got scared by something. He stopped in front of you and gave you your pet in your arms, slightly letting his hands brush yours, but quickly letting go. The feeling was too good to be that short.

“Where were you?” you asked staring into her yellow eyes, as if she could answer. “You scared the living hell out of me, sweetie”

“Sweetie?”

Shit, he was still there.

You just gave him a quick look before kissing Hara’s head and placing her down to the ground again, pointing her with your finger to stay there, she meowed.

“Uh… thank you” you said, probably for the first time in months, and quickly feeling your throat go dry. He smiled, proud of himself because of course, he knew you never acted like this, in fact, it was like a totally different person in front of him.

He noticed the way your cheeks went slightly pink when he caught your baby-acting way of talking to Hara, he found it cute.

Cedric didn’t believe many of the things he heard about you over the years, like, you study so much in the library because you secretly read black magic in the forbidden section, or that you were so mean on your third grade that you made three girls cry the first day, when in fact, he knew it was another person. He almost hated the way people decided to treat you one day and never notice your existence again when it came to friendship.

You were popular, but still, one of the most feared persons. Did that make sense?

“Anytime” he replied, and you held your breath when he got closer to you, still looking at you, but quickly getting on his knees again to give your cat some little pats on her head and stomach when she just laid there, asking for more of his —probably— soft and comforting touch.

Traitor. You thought, looking at Hara.

“She’s so cute” you heard him laugh when your cat gave him the purest glassy eyes ever, enjoying his presence while you stood there awkwardly, just wanting to leave. “I think she loves me”

Once again, you didn’t know what to say, so you stayed silent again, playing with the edges of your robe.

He got up again, still standing too close to you. “You’re still letting me carry those books, right?”

“Huh?”

“Come on, it’s the-…”

“Oh, I know” you interrupted, lifting your palm as your lips clenched in disgust, but way too funny to not make him smile for the last time. “It’s the least you can do” you imitated and exaggerated manly voice.

He walked with you the whole way… and you hated the fact that you let him. If your arms weren’t feeling heavy with books, the ones that Cedric made you grab because they were the lightest, you would’ve crossed your arms over your chest all the way, but since you couldn’t do it, you decided to give him a silent treatment.

He kept eyeing you the whole way, that annoying expression on your face that really made him question to himself if he should even try to talk to you again.

It was not towards him though, but to yourself; how you hated yourself for acting so different all of a sudden, so… small. But this wasn’t your fault, was it? I mean, if he didn’t show up, none of this would’ve have happened, so he was the one to blame, wasn’t he?

Right?

You questioned yourself that same thing over and over again for the following week.

It was like he invaded your mind, everytime you looked at him, you heard him talk in class, or walked past him down the hallway. It was like you were always trying to see him too, it was pathetic.

Fucking pathetic. He only helped you find your cat, for God’s sake, why was that so important to you?

Maybe because no one ever helped you before, or the way he walked so tentatively towards you anytime he walked, or how good he looked with your own cat in his arms… so cute, so handsome.

Sometimes he was there when you tried to sleep too, inside your head. What was happening to you? Why were you desperately trying to keep him out of your mind all of a sudden? Why did you feel your heart skip a beat whenever he talked? Why did you happened to be thinking about his face so much? Why wouldn’t he let you sleep?

Was this what your talked about? She mentioned something about liking boys at a certain age, but every boy you ever knew ran away from you, so, was Cedric this boy now?

You certainly didn’t know what was it about him that caught your attention so suddenly, but stopping was not an option. After all, it made you feel good.

The more days that passed, the more confused you felt, and people started to notice. They saw how you were muy quieter now in class, how you barely raised your hand or how you just seemed… lost. Was something wrong with you? Probably, because you didn’t even eat your breakfast this morning. You just sat there, playing with your scrambled eggs and toasts, not even hungry enough to eat what you served.

There was some mumbling that came from behind you, the Gryffindor table, but didn’t even bother to look back at them, as you always do, so they would either lower their volume, or shut up. Instead, you took the cup in which you had some pumpkin juice, and drank it all.

And then, the mumbling stopped.

The whole Gryffindor group went silent, and that’s when you turned around, almost asking them to speak again… they were all staring at you.

Fred and George were mouth opened and all big eyes looking directly at you, as if something really bad just happened. His friends were whispering into each other’s ears, and you finally spoke.

“What?”

Silence.

“What are you staring at?”

“Um-…” one of the twins spoke first, but you found tell which one was it. Then he lifted his finger, and pointed to the golden cup on your left hand. “Was that your juice?”

You frowned your eyebrows, looked at the cup, and then back at them. “Yes” you replied “Why so interested?”

Silence was dominant again, as the twins exchanged a scared look and then looked back at you again. Your ears were starting to get red, nobody was telling you anything so they were either messing with you, or something bad had happened. You chose to believe the first one… but saying what you were actually thinking was not part of the plan.

“Alright, stupid looking faces, what the fuck is going on?”

The expression on their faces changed, surprised about hearing what you just said… you never insulted anyone. In fact, people thought that you were the kind of person to insult in their mind, but trying to be as cold as ever on the outside, that’s why everyone called you ice hearted or ice princess, you never actually said what you thought… you just tried to be as calm and as cold as always.

But you just insulted a group of teenagers, and that never happened before. No matter how mad you were, you always tried not to insult. People did it to you and it felt horrible, so why do it to someone else?

You gasped lowly while covering your mouth. “Fohmygad” you muttered against your palm. “Oh my God, I’m-… I didn’t want to”

“We know” the other twin had said. “You just drank veritaserum”

And your whole face transformed.

“What… did you just say?” Your voice tone was scary, just like a threat.

“It was not for you!” you recognized the girl that just spoke to you, Angelina. You sat with her a few times in class, but she was quick to run away from you as soon as class finished. “I told you you shouldn’t have done that! All the cups look the same” she hit one of the twins on the side of their head. He whined.

“How was it supposed to know she was going to grab Malfoy’s cup?”

You quickly stood up and placed the cup on the table, right next to, in fact, Malfoy’s breakfast. It was not too far away from you, and you had poured yourself the same drink, but Draco left for a second before you drank the wrong juice.

Fred and George kept talking at the same time towards you, fear in their voices and getting smaller and smaller almost hiding under the table. You ignored them as much as you could so nothing else could come out of your mouth, and with half your face covered, you walked away from the Great Hall.

But of course, not before bumping into another person again.

“Woah” Cedric said as he grabbed your shoulders. He laughed when he noticed it was you “We keep bumping into each other, huh?”

“Don’t talk to me” you bit while shaking your body off of his grabbing, and bit your tongue again as the gigantic door kept getting closer and closer, but it didn’t make you feel any better.

You didn’t look back as you walked as fast as you could towards the bathroom on the fifth floor, the Prefect’s bathroom, after all, you were one. It was a safe place, since no one was ever there at that time in the morning and not everyone could come in. You just wished that Myrtle was not there, she could be a bit annoying sometimes.

After letting your way in, you ran to wash your face with the coldest water that your skin could handle. Your skin was on fire, just like the rest of your body and maybe, just maybe, your brain. You have definitely gained a new enemy.

Verisaterum? Really?

Malfoy could be a pain in the ass but, out of all the potions in the wizarding world, the Weasley twins had to choose the hardest one to make, with no taste, no color, but most importantly, illegal to any use outside the Minister?

Merlin’s fucking beard, you needed a break.

“yn?”

You scoffed when a male voice called your name. “It’s occupied, genius” you answered with your back still turned to where the voice was coming.

The footsteps were coming closer and closer, and you were not in the mood to deal with any Weasley shit, you thought.

“Pretrificus Totalus!” you screamed while turning around, your hand already grabbing your wand and throwing it towards whoever it was the Weasley that followed you.

“Hey!” the male voice, not Weasley, screamed as he hid behind a wall, your spell crushing into the cold surface. “What do you think you’re doing?” Cedric showed himself, confusion on his face as he slowly decided to walk again.

“Cedric.” you called, putting your wand away. It was the first time you called his name. “I thought you were one of the twins”

“I can tell… are you okay?”

Yes.

“No”, you replied. You groaned lowly when the truth came out of your lips. In times like this, you really wished these kind of potions didn’t exist, it was hard to hold back their enchantment. “I just drank the most stupid potion that the Weasley twins could think of to piss off Malfoy”

He placed his hands inside the front pockets of his pants as he laughed. “Verisaterum?”

“How’d you know?”

He clicked his tongue, making his way towards you again. “They joke about it too much” he leaned his back against the sink you were gripping tightly with your hands.

You took a deep breath and stayed silent for a moment, analyzing your reflection as you asked, “How long does it last?”

“Depends on how successful it is. It can go away between one hour and six”

“Six hours!?” you yelled to his face, then scoffed while letting an annoyed smile draw on your face. “For the love of….”

“We can always ask Snape for the antidote… but that would mean you tell him about the twins’s action and that was illegal”

You bit your tongue as your feet bobbed up and down, snapping your toes onto the shiny floor again and again as your breathing was a clear sign of how bad you were feeling.

“Forget it. I’ll just wait”

Your knees bended as you sat on the floor, right next to Cedric’s legs, and letting your head fall against the cold pipe under the sink.

“You’ll wait up until six hours before you speak again?” his voice could perfectly fit with another type of quiestion… ‘are you crazy?’ would be the perfect one.

But you just nodded, not even looking at his perfect face. “It’s not like I have someone to talk to, anyways”

Ouch.

Cedric bit the inside of his cheek as he looked down at you, feeling bad for you and how vulnerable were feeling, but being smart enough to keep that thought to himself.

“Or… you can talk to me”

You clicked your tongue and laughed coldly. “Yeah, right”

“Really” he insisted as you saw his figure squat next to yours, finally dropping his whole weight to the floor, imitating your posture. “By this time you should already know I’m not someone who falls for your complains, right?”

“You’re right” you replied as you played with your fingers nervously. “That’s good”

Shit, shut up already.

“Why?”

“‘Cause I like it… oh my god” you covered your face “I was not supposed to say that”

Cedric laughed again.

“You like my company?”

No, no, no, no.

“Yes” you whined “Please stop asking me questions!”

He let out a louder laugh this time. “Why? It’s fun”

“Yeah, you drink verisaterum and we’ll see if it’s funny, smart boy”

“Sorry”

He stayed silent after that, and so did you. Your cheeks were flushed with embarrassment as you kept wishing that this potion was so poorly made that it only lasted one hour, but the effect didn’t seem to go away any sooner.

You could feel it because that’s just how your mind felt too. Suddenly the thought of not saying the truth to any question was not an option in your mind. Did you even know what a lie was? God, you felt so weak that you hated yourself. Why couldn’t you be like those wizards you read about? The ones that can resist it?

Your whole reputation and personality would’ve stayed intact if you could.

But right now, sitting right next to Cedric Diggory, asking you questions, and with red cheeks… that just ruined the whole image that people thought you had.

“Do you mind if I ask you something?” he suddenly stammered and it made you jump slightly. He had leaned closer to your ear, as if sitting next to him was not enough to hear him.

“I do” you answered before laughing to yourself “That was the only answer that did not feel forced to come out”

Cedric laughed too, and he took his time before deciding what to ask you, trying to find the correct words to say to not make you mad, or walk away and leave.

“Is it… are you really how people say you are? I mean, I see that you can be as cold as you want but, is that who you are?”

Your eyes made him nervous. After his lips closed, your face just inches away from his, you just stayed there staring at him. You bit your own lip as you kept looking at his grey eyes, trying to find any sign that showed you that he really didn’t care about it, or that the wrinkles on his skin would show up like anytime he laugh, another sign that he was just messing with you, and he really couldn’t care in the slightest about you. But he didn’t move.

So you sighed. “No”

Cedric nodded, more than satisfied with that answer. He was right.

But you had a lot to say, even though he didn’t ask you that much.

“I guess I became what people started to say I was, or what I started to hear about myself. I wasn’t always cold, or I wasn’t always pushing people away from me. Actually, I was the one trying to have lots of friends and be myself with many people but they just… I don’t know, they felt threatened, so… let’s just say I got mad with my own life and decided to not let myself feel vulnerable again, because I don’t deserve it”

Another big gap of silence… and your eyes slowly got filled with tears.

“I’m not who everyone says I am. Ice princess, the hell” you laughed “I mean, sorry I’m not a sweetheart to everyone that gave me nicknames! They expected me to be like this so, here they go”

You sniffed while your nose got red and puffy. Not a single tear was dropped but you still looked so heartbroken that it made the boy next to you almost cry too. You didn’t even complain about the potion this time, because you finally had thrown again that massive rock that just kept hurting your chest over and over again.

“There was only one person that treated me nicely in the last three years”

He frowned his eyebrows. “Who?”

“You”

You had turned your head towards him again, with a small smile on your lips. He knew it was going to be hard for you to thank him, but the shiny look in your eyes was just enough for him to realize. “Really?” he asked.

You nodded, still smiling. “Yes, it’s like a bonus point”

“Bonus point?”

“Because I like you”

Fuck… fuck!

“I-…”

“Wha-…” you both started taking at the same time.

It was like a fucking movie. Both of you frozen in time, staring at each other’s faces as you tried to say the correct words, but nothing came to mind.

Cedric could feel his heart pounding in his ears, while you wanted to crash your head to the nearest wall.

“You…” he started, but didn’t finish, at least not what he initially wanted to say. “Are you for real?”

“No, Diggory, I just fucking lied to your face, can you believe it?… Of course I’m for real, dingus!” you yelled.

Cedric bit his lip as he turned his head to the opposite side, trying to bite back his laugh. “Okay, I get it, it was a dumb question”

But then he laughed. God, his laugh, his perfect little giggle. It made you smile.

“I kinda like you too”

Your neck snapped so hard towards his direction that you thought that maybe, you just died.

Your lips kept opening and closing everytime you tried to say something. For some reason, none of this seemed like a joke to you, almost as if the potion’s effect had affected Cedric too. Something about this felt real, maybe it was because you openly talked about your feeling with him. He knew you weren’t bad, he always knew, he just wanted you to confirm it.

Maybe drinking verisaterum wasn’t as bad as you thought.

Your heart pounded heavily in your chest when he fixed a piece of your hair behind your ear, and the lightest yet burning touch of his fingers against your jawline made your breath hitch once again. He smirked again, as he always does, “You’re really beautiful” he cooed, as his hot breath hit your cheekbone and left behind a sweet feeling that you never wanted to get rid of.

He then got up, as swiftly as a leaf would do, and extended his hand to you.

“What?” you debated.

“Let’s go for a walk. I feel like I have to ask you a few more questions before I decided which place I’m taking you to this weekend”

[claymoresword]

I Choose Her | Chp: 19

Hermione Granger x Slytherin Fem!Reader

Summary: You are the daughter of two known death eaters from one of the oldest and richest families in the wizarding world. Are you truly prepared to give up everything you know for Hermione Granger?

Pairing: Hermione x Reader

Wordcount: 3.2k

Warnings: heavy themes, character death, mention of violence, death, grief, (somehow) a sprinkle of fluff

Note: hello! finally we're here, this is looking like the second last chapter, which is bitter sweet but I suppose it has to end at some point :( also I know this one is shorter than usual, and since it is very plot driven it may not be as fun to read but I hope the fluff makes up for it! the next chapter will definitely be longer and hopefully less depressing overall lol. anyway, that's it, as always endless thanks for your patience. hope you enjoy!

Taglist: @gvrsto @aweidlich @xxsekhmet @arielj @poppyflower-22 @scarleigh1989 @smut-religiously777 @cocoyeehaw @blackbirdv98 @arcturusseer @iamcapitalgbicorn8287 @lonewalker17 @karasonromanoff @httphayn @bigbadsofty07 @cherryflavoredcoke @dumpsapphic @idontwannabehereatm @js-a-writer @baylegend6 @puta1 @t-wylia @raven-ss @unexpected-character

You can feel heat prickling your skin, the quidditch pitch is a fiery blaze and you could only afford to stare in helpless despair.

The quaffle hoops once stood large and tall, you've flown by them countless times during quidditch practice, and multiple house matches. One of the best memories you've made at Hogwarts– reduced to ash.

Now the wooden stands are nothing but kindling for the fire that devoured them, they come crashing down in pieces of hot red ember.

Smoke is all you can smell in the air, thick hot ash and fear.

You can't move, still– you observed as the flames licked another banner, Gryffindor or Slytherin, they were no match for it's fiery wrath.

More students sprint past, careless and panicked, nudging you in the process. Now you are forcefully pushed further into the doorway.

It works as a shock to your system, a part of you astrayed amidst the chaos, but you had to keep running, in search of Hermione.

You propell down the main hall, soon approaching the gallery.

“Y/n!” Blessedly, you finally hear your love call out to you, but it was a shout of warning.

Somehow, you manage to narrowly dodge the curse coming your way. “Avada Kedavra!” You cast in return, without thought, almost second nature.

The Death Eater is thrown backwards, slamming through a broken wall and into a pile of bricks.

Your plan to advance forward is interrupted as you feel a presence fall into you, arms wrapped tightly around your neck.

The scent of your girlfriend's perfume is now smothered by the smell of sweat and dirt, but it provides you comfort all the same.

“I thought you were– I thought I lost you.” Hermione mutters, scattered, and all you want to do is hold her, kiss her, and take her as far away from the castle as you possibly could.

But as much as you would like it to be, fleeing is not an option.

Instead you cup her face in your hands, committing each feature of hers to memory, every dip and freckle.

“I'm sorry.” You say.

“It all happened too fast, I don't know how we got separated.” You finish, still trying to make sense of mayhem. You've both come face to face with death half a dozen times tonight, maybe more.

None of it makes sense.

“Guys, come on!” Harry's voice forces Hermione to break your gaze, she then tugs on your arm, guiding you with her.

Soon you find yourselves in a steady jog down the hallway, you turn a corner only to be met with a sight that stops the four of you in your tracks.

Greyback was bent over the body of a girl, his jaw clamped firmly on her neck, draining all life from his victim.

“No!” Hermione shouts. Frantically, she throws a curse, causing the werewolf to crash through the wall behind him. Now the beast has been vanquished, but it is too late.

Atop rubble and ash, Lavender Brown laid stiff and colorless, entirely unlike herself.

Her eyes are open, yet they held no trace of her. The girl's mortal soul, taken by death– ever merciless and violent, tonight, he spares very few.

Harry is first to snap out of the terror induced trance that you found yourselves in, consequently followed by Hermione.

Soon you move as well, but as you glance at Ron, you can't bring yourself to take another step.

Despite yourself, you find your hand reaching out to grab his shoulder. “Come on, mate.” You coax, but the man doesn't react to your touch, or your voice.

He continues to stare at Lavender– and the sheer absence of her.

“She's gone– she isn't suffering anymore.” You offer, hoping Ron would find some solace in your words, however minute.

He does.

Nodding, the ginger haired boy tears his eyes away from his deceased lover. The four of you continue your journey through the courtyard and down the winding stairs towards the boathouse.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

Hermione's ironclad grip on your forearm doesn't falter as you follow Harry's lead, quietly approaching the boathouse. The four of you immediately crouch out of sight as you caught movement inside.

Voldermort's voice, faint and unsettling, it makes your blood run cold.

He continues to deliver his thoughts with a tone closer to a whisper, the four of you are forced to strain your necks to listen.

Soon you make out a second voice, and you share a quick look amongst yourselves. Trying your hardest to make sense of what was being said between the Dark Lord, and Professor Snape.

“Tonight, when the boy comes, it will not fail you, I'm sure of it.”

“It answers to you, and you only.”

Unsettling silence fills the air once more, and you feel inclined to shift closer to Hermione.

“Does it?” Voldermort finally inquires, and it is followed by a lack of response, for a beat, you wonder if Snape was still present.

“My Lord?” The Professor eventually says.

“The wand, does it truly answer to me?”

“You're a clever man Severus, surely you must know.”

“Where does it's true loyalty lie?”

“With you, of course. My Lord.” The Professor replies with just a gleam of hesitation, and for a reason unknown to you, it makes the hair on the back of your neck stand.

“The Elder wand cannot serve me properly because I am not it's true master. The wand belongs to the wizard who killed it's last owner.” Voldermort continues.

“You killed Dumbledore, Severus.”

“While you live, the elder wand cannot truly be mine.”

“You've been a good and faithful servant, Severus, but only I can live forever.”

Then, Hermione turns to you, and you give her a similar look of horror in response.

“My Lord-” Severus’ response is strained.

None of you are given a chance to react before a loud thud is heard, you see the Professor's silhouette hitting the glass before you.

“Nagini, kill.”

The panel vibrates violently, but miraculously, it doesn't shatter.

The sound of Snape's body hitting the glass repeatedly with every deathly blow, makes the four of you jump.

Then a cold gust of wind surrounded the boathouse, and soon, it was quiet again. Only the sound of water, and the noise of a boat hitting the wooden dock everytime it swayed. Snape's shallow breathing, unsteady and helpless.

Harry is first to move, he enters the boathouse, and the rest of you can only trail after him silently.

“Professor–” You stutter as you catch sight of the man laying on the ground.

Snape was a formidable man, one you used to fear, even respected.

He has never looked so small.

Harry crouches beside him, he places his hand on the man's neck as Snape lets out a sob. The sight was so foreign that you had to look away.

“Take them– take them.” The man pleads, incoherent at first, but quickly Harry understands his request.

“Give me something, a flask, anything.” The chosen one orders, extending his arm toward Hermione.

Your girlfriend does as she is bid, fishing out the object from her bag before passing her best friend an empty vial.

You watched with bated breaths as Harry held it up to Snape's cheek, collecting the Professor's tears. Once he was done, he cuped the vial firmly in his grasp.

“Take them to the pensieve.” Snape orders with all that's left of his strength.

He was slipping away, you could see it, the way his head was nodding to the side as he slowly fell limp against the glass, his gaze far away and vacant.

The man whispers something intelligible to Harry, perhaps intended for his ears only. In half a heartbeat, Snape was dead.

–

Harry reaches over to gently shut the Professor's eyes.

You step closer, with the intention to lay Snape on the floor properly, so he may be put to rest with some dignity, but before you can suggest it, a blinding pain courses through your arm.

It makes you groan aloud.

Hermione reaches out for you, but then a voice penetrates the air, sudden and invasive.

The Dark Lord is merciless in his attempt, he has lost every ounce of patience– you could feel it in your arm.

Hermione clasps her hands over her ears as Voldermort delivers his second message.

“You have fought valiantly, but in vain. I do not wish this.. every drop of magical blood spilled is a terrible waste. I therefore command my forces to retreat, in their absence, dispose of your dead with dignity.”

“Harry Potter, I now speak directly to you. On this night, you have allowed your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. There is no greater dishonor. Join me in the forbidden forest and confront your fate.”

“If you do not do this, I shall kill every last man, woman and child, who tries to conceal you from me.”

═══════════════════════════════════════════

As the four of you walked through the empty courtyard, you can't help but notice just how quiet it was, something that would usually be considered a comfort, is now incredibly unnerving.

“Where is everybody?” Hermione asks, but her question is soon enough answered once you push the doors open to the Great Hall.

The space is unrecognizable.

A scene from a nightmare.

There is not a candle in sight, everyone operating on the bit of light provided by the moon. You spot Mr Filch, sequestered in a corner, miserably sweeping piles of rubble out of the way.

Your stomach turns as you make your way through, an endless line of bodies laid upon makeshift cots.

You can't help but look upon all their faces, one by one. All these bodies– they were once sons, daughters, somebody's friend or lover.

The air is snatched out of your lungs as you spot a familiar face.

Nymphadora Tonks lay unmoving beside her husband, their hands outstretched as if to touch each other– even in death.

“No..” You mutter in disbelief and Hermione follows your gaze, she let's out a sharp gasp.

It could have easily been you laying on that cot.

It could have been Hermione.

The thought alone made you nauseous, you could physically feel your stomach turn. You decide you had to get away before you wretched.

Before you could however, a desperate wail snatches your attention. You look up to find Ron in the distance, he sobs uncontrollably as he knelt over his brother's dead body.

You watched as Ginny held him, now they are both sobbing helplessly.

Molly could do all but console them. What agony it must be, to watch your children die before their time.

There is so much pain, too much– you had to get away.

You turn to leave the Great Hall, or what is left of it, with no destination in mind. You simply needed to escape.

Away from grief, away from death, if there was ever a chance of evading it tonight.

“Y/n!” Amidst suffocating torment, no voice has ever sounded as sweet. Hermione swiftly catches up to you, her hand slips into your own.

Your palm now felt calloused and rough. It is caked with dirt and dried blood, but Hermione holds it firmly in her own still.

“Don't leave without telling me like that, we can't separate again.” Hermione scolds, and you offer an apologetic look.

“I just need to get some air.” You explain, but Hermione doesn't question it, in desperate need of an escape herself.

“Come,” She merely coaxes, tugging on your arm.

You soon realize she aims to guide you somewhere secluded, but it seemed impossible. Everywhere you looked, it was death and destruction. Your home; a battlefield.. a gravesite.

After wandering for some time, you finally find a place to sit, the flight of stairs leading up to the Headmaster's Tower remains vacant and mostly intact. Although pieces of stone would break off from the sides ever so often, when compared to the rest of the castle, it was hardly worth acknowledging.

Hermione takes a seat on the step, gesturing for you to do the same next to her. Your girlfriend runs her fingers through your disheveled hair, tenderly moving it out of your face.

Neither of you speak just yet, even after all that's happened tonight, she manages to smile at you, honest and bright. It nearly breaks you.

The thought of living even a day without her was excruciating, you can't lose her tonight, under any circumstances.

“We'll be okay, we've made it this far.” Hermione utters out loud, as if she had just read your mind.

“It'll all be over soon.” Your girlfriend says, but you catch the faint tremor in her voice. She was fighting back tears.

Yet, you could only wrap your arm around her as she rests her head on your shoulder.

After a prolonged silence, you decide to redirect the topic of conversation, however macabre it may seem, you somehow saw it as the perfect opportunity.

Afterall, you could both use a little bit of joy right now.

“There's something I've wanted to ask you– it is going to sound mad, but I need to say it. before it's too late.” You stammer, a sudden sense of nervousness setting in, you take in a deep breath to calm yourself.

“What is it?” Hermione inquires, by the way her brows furrowed you could tell she was concerned as you spoke vaguely.

You quickly realize that it was too late to back out, you needed to take the leap, and hope that Hermione will catch you.

Amidst a sigh you stand up so you could move a step down.

“This is definitely not how I planned to do it, but–” You mutter, looking around before it occurred to you to utilise the ring you already had on your finger.

You take it off as you got down on one knee, albeit somewhat ungracefully. Hermione's eyes widen at the sight, but she doesn't say anything as of yet, watching you intently.

You extend your hand in front of you, and your girlfriend's gaze shifts to the Slytherin crest ring pinched between your index finger and your thumb.

“Hermione Jean Granger, if we make it out alive tonight– would you do me the incredible honor of being my wife?” You finally manage to utter the words you have longed to say.

Hermione's eyes were no longer wide in shock, but her expression is now unreadable. You couldn't tell if she was about to burst into tears or laugh in your face.

In the end, she does neither, but she still struggles to find the words.

“Y/n, I–” She stutters before averting her gaze.

“Are you sure?” Hermione finally asks, meeting your expectant stare, and you can't help but let out a chuckle.

“I have wanted you since the first moment. I knew I loved you from the first time you smiled at me. and I knew I wanted to marry you the first time you ran your fingers through my hair. and then our first kiss– I truly thought if we couldn't be together, I'd die.” You spoke from the heart without missing a beat, not caring about just how dramatic you might have sounded.

“I used to think that I'd be just fine on my own. I didn't believe that I could ever care for someone the way I do for you.” Your voice breaks ever so slightly, you swallow before continuing.

“Hermione when I'm not with you– it feels like I can't breathe.” You barely manage to say, your throat tightens, as a tear escapes your eye.

“my love–” Hermione coos, her own eyes now welling up with tears. She approaches to grab your forearm, although not harshly, she guides you back on your feet.

Your faces are mere inches away from each other before she would crash her lips against yours, a kiss that is restless and unchecked yet somehow equally tamed and loaded with love.

“Of course, I will marry you.” She declares once your lips part, she wipes the tear away with the pad of her thumb, and your heart sings.

You are unable to contain the large grin on your face, one Hermione had no issues reciprocating.

“Really?” You ask, mainly in relief rather than actual disbelief.

Hermione pauses as if thinking of an adequate response

“Well, I do think we should at least wait a year or two, at least until after we finish school.” Hermione admits, and you scoff, even in the midst of a war her priorities remain unchanged.

“but–” Hermione says, grabbing your face so she could force you to meet her gaze once more.

“It is a yes, without a doubt. I can't imagine spending my life with anyone else.” Your girlfriend states earnestly, and your smile returns.

You eagerly grab her hand so you may slip the ring onto her finger.

Hermione stares at the piece of jewelry, silently inspecting the intricate carving of a snake, before finally kissing you again.

The feeling of Hermione's lips against your own allowed you to forget the impending threat of death. With her you believe that you could survive anything. This war will be over soon, and you will marry her. Whatever it takes.

Hermione breaks the kiss only when you are both gasping for air, she embraces you tightly, as if trying to savor the feeling as much and for as long as she could.

-

Harry emerges from seemingly out of nowhere, you open your eyes as you hear footsteps. Hermione releases you so she may turn to her friend.

Harry's stare was distant, troubled. In truth, he looked sick. You dread to find out exactly what he's witnessed within Snape's memories, neither you nor Hermione mustered the will to ask.

Unexpectedly, Harry is first to break the silence.

“Where's Ron?” He mutters, finally looking between Hermione and yourself.

“He's with his family still.” Your girlfriend explains. Then the chosen one nods, and he starts to fade once more, disappearing into his own head.

“Harry what is it?” Hermione asks, when Harry looks up at her again, his eyes are glossed over with tears.

“There's a reason I can hear them, the Horcruxes.” He remarks. “I've known for awhile, and I think you have too.”

The newfound resolve in his voice makes your entire body stiffen, soon Hermione is crying again.

Harry possessed a bravery you once envied– but no longer.

He plans to confront the Dark Lord and the thought of it made you ill, he shouldn't have to go through it alone. It seems your girlfriend shared the same sentiment as she spoke her next words amidst soft sobs.

“I'll go with you–” She suggests, but her best friend is quick to turn her down.

“No, kill the snake.” Harry says, glancing between the two of you.

“Kill the snake and then it's just him.” He asserts. Hermione practically throws herself into his arms.

You watched as she cleaved to him hopelessly, Harry doing the same in return.

Soon, The Chosen One shifts his gaze towards something behind you, and you swiftly turn around to see Ron standing a few paces away.

The expression on his face suggests he had been standing there for some time.

His eyes were tired, glazed over with what resembled apathy– or perhaps the harrowing inevitably of acceptance. You could not say for certain.

One thing you did know; in order to defeat Voldermort, Harry Potter has to die.

[yournightmary]

Gryffindor!Ellie HCs

content warning:: fem!reader, Hogwarts!AU, reader wears a dress, nothing else I think

AN:: Is this a very specific thing that no one asked for? yes. Will I still write this? also yes. Replaying Hogwarts Legacy for the 3rd time, sorry.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ I couldn’t figure out what house she would be in but I think it would be gryffindor? At least that’s the one that makes the most sense to me.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ For anyone that isn’t really into Harry Potter, later years are set in the mid/late 90s… which makes me want to write 90s!Ellie oh my fucking god.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ gryffindor!Ellie who either has a pet rat or an ugly cat. I’m leaning towards the rat though. It’s definitely one of those albino rats with red eyes, named something like ‘Crouton’.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ gryffindor!Ellie who constantly sneaks off into the Forbidden Forest, way too often for her own safety. She’s just so mysterious and cool. At least that’s what she thinks.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ gryffindor!Ellie who is infamous for her beaten up sneakers. They’re definitely taped up in some places and she doodles on them whenever she’s bored. Which is most of the time.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ gryffindor!Ellie who wears the ugliest, scratchiest, grandpa-looking flannel shirts and sweaters. Some people say that she stole them from Filch’s closet.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ gryffindor!Ellie who is a menace to everyone the professors. Not paying attention during class but they can’t even do anything because somehow she knows all the answers/brews potions perfectly/knows how to cast spells. Girlie is naturally smart and talented.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ gryffindor!Ellie who wanted to play quidditch but flying a broom is the only thing she’s bad at. Probably fell off of it during tryouts and got humiliated:(

⇢ ˗ˏˋ gryffindor!Ellie who met you while sneaking into the restricted section in the library. She was looking for a dark spellbook to get revenge on someone while you just wanted to learn more about divination.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ gryffindor!Ellie who made you her partner in crime, whether you wanted it or not. Constantly asking you to steal something for her or distract someone while she does whatever she does.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ gryffindor!Ellie who ran out of potions class when she smelled your perfume in the amortentia. A few people have done that, so no one really paid attention. You on the other hand have smelled mint, cigarette smoke and cookies. The ones that Ellie loves… funny, right?

⇢ ˗ˏˋ gryffindor!Elllie who asked you to the Yule Ball (let’s just pretend it happens every year, without a tournament) like a day before, under the impression that no one else wanted to go with you. Rightfully, you got pissed (and a little sad that she thought no one wanted you) and declined not-so-politely.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ gryffindor!Ellie who you’ve found crying in one of the more secluded hallways late into the night of the ball. After you declined she asked some random guy just so she wouldn’t be without a date, he turned out to be a total dick and the whole experience was shit.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ gryffindor!Ellie who cried even more when she saw you in your beautiful dress, which looked way too similar to not be matching with the suit of some guy she saw earlier. A guy who asked you a full week before Ellie did, and you agreed because you thought she wouldn’t ask you.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ gryffindor!Ellie who invited you to dance once a slow song came on, even though you could barely hear it over the thick walls of the castle. Cried in your arms and acted like she didn’t after.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ gryffindor!Ellie who always sneaks you into the gryffindor common room (if you’re not in the same house).

⇢ ˗ˏˋ gryffindor!Ellie who stole fire whiskey from some shop in Hogsmeade and got you both drunk. Somehow convinced you that taking a stroll around the castle in the middle of the night is an excellent idea. You got a ton of bruises from bumping into everything while she almost fell off of the Grand Staircase. 3 week detention.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ gryffindor!Ellie who loves to duel with you. Always says she’ll go easy on you but struggles the whole time and ends up getting her ass beat.

My brain is fried and I hate what I wrote.

[sundrop-writes]

if Draco walked in on you changing...

Word Count: 1360

Harry Potter Masterlist

Warnings: I have no clue when this could fit onto the general Harry Potter timeline (and tbh I don't think it does); this features the 'arranged marriage' trope; the reader is a rich pureblood (but there is no indication that the reader looks down on muggleborns the way that the Malfoys do); there is no mention of which pureblood family the reader is from, so there is no indication of her race; the reader is mentioned to be afab/has breasts and wears dresses; mentions of house elves/use of house elf labor; Draco is very cocky and entitled in this; there is some dubious consent because Draco looks at the reader while she is undressed without her consent, but she doesn't fully care; Draco calls the reader 'darling' and 'love'; the reader's parents are discussing the arranged marriage with the Malfoys without her consent; passing mention of the reader and Draco having kids together; the reader is definitely attracted to Draco and denying it. I believe that's everything.

A/N: Can you tell that I'm obsessed with the arranged marriage trope when it comes to Draco?? Yes? No? (Well you're gonna be able to tell that even more if he wins the other poll - which he probably will, and that oneshot about him is the one that I post.) I just love the idea that because he's not the best person, the reader would be forced to be in proximity to him, and she would bring out his more likeable side over time. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this! Eventually, I want to do this trope/reaction with all the characters that I mainly write for. (And maybe more, like Neville and Ginny.)

...

The past week of your life has been nothing but a hectic chaos, and you were simply trying your hardest to get through it. 

Your parents had travelled such a long way to ‘catch up’ with their old school friends, the Malfoys, some fellow purebloods that they hadn’t seen since graduating Hogwarts when they were all teenagers. This meant you had been a ‘guest’ at Malfoy Manor for the past week - seven straight days filled with nothing but fake smiling, bragging about your accomplishments, in detail (for your parents’ sake), being shown off like you were some trophy out of their case. You hated it. 

You didn’t think you could handle sitting through one more evening dinner or afternoon tea, hearing them all wax poetic about the ‘good ole days’ while their insufferable son stared at you from across the room. But, as you kept telling yourself, you could go home soon. You could soon go back to your regular life, your own house with walls that weren’t decorated in depressing dark shades - a place with a sprawling rose garden that you missed so dearly. 

Tonight, you just had to get through dinner. 

And then, you could fake some kind of illness and be left alone in the large, comfortable (if entirely dark and dreary) guest room that they had put you up in for your stay. 

Currently, you were racing around that room, wearing nothing but your black stockings and heels, and your jewellery, looking for your perfume bottle to spray some on your neck and chest before you put on your dress and attempted to go through the hassle of zipping it up on your own. You knew that the Malfoys had house elves that you could call upon, but you were really only comfortable with your own elf, Peplum, being the one to dress you. And she was back home because your mother and father didn’t allow her to travel. 

You finally found the perfume bottle and sprayed a few good pumps of it over your neck and breasts, and put one on your inner wrist for good measure. Then you took a moment to bask in the scent because you found it so enjoyable - a nice moment of calming peace from the annoyance and mental strain you had been put through during the past week. 

When you heard the door creak on its hinges, you thought you had been mistaken. 

“My goodness, what do we have here?” 

The sound of someone speaking caused you to jolt, practically jumping out of your skin, and you rushed to cover yourself - the only available covering being your own arms. You turned your back to the door, wrapping your arms around yourself to keep your chest covered, knowing that you looked entirely foolish wearing black tights that went up to your waist, black underwear, and heels - with nothing else. 

Naturally, Draco thought that you looked like a sex dream come to life. 

He could think of nothing sexier than a woman wearing black stockings. So naturally, seeing you topless while wearing those - it caused a stir in his pants that he had to concentrate on for it not to turn into a troubling hardon. He did wish that you weren’t wearing the underwear, though. 

“Don’t cover up on my account.” Draco smirked, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pantsuit (partially as a measure to hide any stirring of his cock). And then he simply continued to stand there, not taking his eyes off the round curve of your ass for even a moment. 

When he spoke again, it was only then that you knew who was there, and any shock pulsing through you at the fact of someone just waltzing in faded away in favour of pure annoyance grinding against your nerves. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You barked, glaring over your shoulder at him. “Knocking was invented for a reason!” 

Draco always found your anger attractive. He found that he liked you angry and topless even better. 

“It’s my house. I don’t have to knock.” He shrugged, sounding as entitled as ever. 

You sighed so hard at this it practically came out as a growl under your breath. Even if you liked the heat in his eyes as he looked you over, even if you found him to be somewhat attractive - that pattern of entitlement made him impossible to put up with. 

You had grown up pureblood, and definitely wealthy, but you absolutely had more humility than someone like him. 

“That is so not true!” You screeched back, entirely insulted by this notion. “Knocking is a basic courtesy that your parents should have taught you!” 

“Whatever.” Draco sighed, seeming entirely unconcerned with the social faux pas of walking in on you partially dressed - he didn’t rush to apologise or even bother to look away. “When we’re married, it won’t matter. I’ll get to look at my wife as much as I want,” 

He said these words with a filthy greed grinding against the back of his throat, the expression on his face disgustingly satisfied. He raked his eyes across your body once again, drinking in every bit of you like he was truly entitled to you. 

You turned around then, your neck aching from craning to look at him. You still had an arm covering your breasts, but his eyes definitely stuck to the puff of your cleavage that was leaking out around it. You would have yelled at him, called him a pig for staring so hard - but cared less and less about his staring as you got caught up on his words. 

“‘When we’re married’?” You echoed back, the words entirely strained on your voice. “Are you okay? Have you been snorting the Floo Powder or are you usually this out of touch?” 

Draco chuckled then, and titled his head slightly as he looked at you - it was distinctly condescending, like how someone might look down at a small child. Like he thought you were the one who was truly out of touch. 

“Darling, are you really that daft?” He asked slowly. “Do you really not know what this trip is for?” 

“What?” You croaked. 

Now, you were truly confused. 

“Our parents didn’t just feel like ‘catching up’ out of the blue. They’re trying to come to some sort of agreement. They’re match-making us. You know - bonding two powerful pureblood families.” He explained. 

“Oh… oh god.” You sighed. It all made perfect sense. The ‘hush hush’ lunches that you weren’t allowed to sit in on, the insistence from your mother that you ‘bond’ with Draco, her questions about if you wanted to have children or not when you thought that was distant years in your future. “I am gonna kill them!” 

You moved to storm out of the room, wanting to give your parents a stern talking to for not warning you about this. But - 

“You’re still naked, love.” Draco chuckled. 

You felt a flush of heat run through you - you wanted to say that it was from embarrassment, and not the wonderfully teasing nickname, and his cutesy tone. But you had other things to focus on than your non-attraction to Draco Malfoy. 

“Ugh.” You turned back around sharply and grabbed your dress off the bed, and after you stepped into it and aggressively pulled the straps up over your shoulders, you struggled to reach behind you and even begin to pull the zipper closed. 

You froze instantly when you felt Draco’s cool fingers brush against the skin of your lower back as he grabbed onto the zipper and then nimbly did it up for you. His touch was surprisingly gentle, and you told yourself that the shivers down your spine were from his cool touch, and not because of any underlying (very annoyed) attraction toward him. 

“Might not be so bad.” Draco breathed against your neck, causing more goosebumps to form on your skin. “Being married to you.” 

You felt an argument bubbling under the surface - but you saved that energy for the ensuing fight you were bound to have with your parents. Instead, you simply scoffed and rolled your eyes in response.

[ambassadorarlert]

a compilation of some of my personal armin head canons. lmk if i should do another. this is kinda long, sorry not sorry. <33 NSFW 18+ ONLY MDNI

scorpio sun, virgo moon, capricorn rising.

- sun in scorpio: emotional and compassionate / intense and mysterious

- moon in virgo: service minded and shy / analytical and judgmental

- rising in capricorn: loyal and ambitious / unfulfillment and drudgerous

armin is the sweetest person to exist ever

- treats you the way he wants to be treated and more than you ever thought you could ever deserve.

- would rather die first than to hurt your feelings

- and when he does it’s never on purpose and it’s always sorry for it and will try to make up anyway he can

- always goes out of his way to make things easier for you

- his love languages are acts of service, physical touch, and quality time

- if your space is kinda messy he’ll do his best to reorganize and clean up for you

- needs to live in your skin. hugs often. holds your hand any chance he can. plays with your hair. lays in your lap. touchy touchy touchy

- date nights ever weekend, or every other weekend. tries to go somewhere nice and do something grand once in a while.

- he’s too embarrassed for full fledged PDA, but chaste kissing and holding hands is okay.

neurodivergent

- might be on the spectrum. you kinda gotta squint.

- has some kind of sleep disorder like insomnia or parasomnia.

- prone to nightmares

- also has depression, ptsd, anxiety

- does not take medication, like an antidepressant, even though he should

- he tries not to lay around too much when he’s around you or staying at your place, but when he’s alone in his own home he can stay in bed for literal days.

- his grandfather is getting older and his parents died when he was young so he has looming anxiety of death and losing people he loves.

- also has separation anxiety. he’s like one of those howling cats when their owner leaves for work.

- is kind of a picky eater. goes out and orders either alfredo pasta or chicken tenders.

- will stay up rlly rlly late until he can’t stand it

- drools in his sleep so if he’s laying on you, there’s a little wet spot lmao gross

anxious attachment style

- you remind him every single day that you love him, that he’s the only one for you, and that you’re happy in your relationship

- but he just can’t help not feeling adequate and good enough so sometimes his insecurities bleed out into other things.

- it gives him peace of mind that your location is on and he can see where you are.

- he goes through your following almost every day to see if anything has changed.

- will sometimes ask “do you know this guy?” when he sees you’ve gotten a new follower or if someone leaves a comment on one of your pics.

- super cyber stalker. if somebody leaves a nasty comment he can find their full name, place of employment, where they went to school, and their grandma’s facebook.

- he definitely screenshots the ugly stuff and sends it to their family. and says “this is how your offspring talks to people online” and that he “doesn’t appreciate you being treated this way.”

- other ppl would think he’s doing too much and sometimes it is but you know and understand him better than most people ever would.

- goes through your stuff when you’re not there

- he’s not looking for anything in particular, he just likes looking through things and seeing what you have

- smells everything. lotions and body washes. perfumes and hair products. reads the ingredients in your skin care. doesn’t know what any of it does.

- wears your house robe when you’re not there either. walks through the halls like a student at hogwarts.

cares for your animals when you’re gone or need help

- befriends whatever pet you have.

- your aloof and distant cat adores him and crawls in his lap.

- your dog follows him in every room and waits for him outside the bathroom. he cannot escape.

- if the litter box needs to be cleaned, he’ll do it.

- he’ll walk your dog and pick up your yard. might try to teach your dog a few new things.

- he’ll feed whatever you got in your cages or tank and refills all bowls and water

- gives them extra treats and snacks just because

passionate and sensual

- sex isn’t just sex for him. it’s like another way to connect emotionally with one another and be completely vulnerable and experiment with things.

- always has his mind in the gutter and is always down to jump your bones. or have you jump his bones.

- is a switch, equally enjoys being dominant and submissive.

- when he’s being dominant he wants to consume every piece of you. he kisses you everywhere, touches you everywhere, reminds you that you’re his and no one else’s.

- whispers to you about how good you feel around him. how tight you are. he loves the way you sound. he wants to stuff you full of his cock. likes to bend you over and watch how wet you get and watches his cum dripping out of you.

- wants to breed you so bad but alas. birth control.

- tries to convince you to get off of it. that you don’t need it and whatever happens, happens, and that he can support you.

- when he’s submissive, he whines and mews. he’s begging for more, harder, faster, uses his manners and says please and thank you like a good boy <33

- he turns you down most of the time when you wanna suck his dick, but he can never get enough of eating you out.

- his favorite positions are prone bone, doggy, missionary ofc, and when you ride him

- once he’s in sub-space there’s no coming out of it until he cums.

- his bookmarks on twitter is literally all porn, and he likes some weird stuff.

2023. do not copy or repost any work by arlertwitch on any other platform. violators will be prosecuted.

[imaginesinthewind]

Dating Regulus Black would include

From anonymous: Hi love 🩷✨I was just wondering if you can write dating regulus black headcanons? Like the Sirius one (that I’m absolutely obsessed with btw).

A/N: Dear anon, I hope you will like this one. I'm sorry about the time it took, I just simply forgot to check my inbox 🫠. Gif above is not mine. Also, I'm trying more and more to write things in gender neutral. Feel free to comment if I missed something. 💛

- He has that poetic elegance that follows him like a shadow. He is beautiful, like a Dead Poets Society character, or like Dorian Gray.

- Shy boy at first. Let's not lie, Sirius takes so much space that our Regulus has to be the quiet, introverted one.

- You probably would have to make the first step.

- Lonely boy. Not because he doesn't like people, but because like every child who had abusive parents, he's just so anxious, scared of taking too much space. And just like his brother, he keeps his emotions to himself, and stays alone when he has a problem.

- Stolen glances and smiles across the classroom at first.

- He falls for you not because you are so beautiful, but because you are smart and insightful.

- He takes you on dates under the stars, to the library, sharing about his favourite poems or novels.

- When he doesn't dare to share about his feelings, he talks to you in French.

- "Tu sais que tu es jolie comme un cœur?"

- At some point, when he refuses to give you the translation, you ask Sirius, who is tempted to translate bullshit to you just to mess with his little brother. He doesn't, though. Because he knows how smitten he is with you.

- A.proper.gentleman

- Offers you his arm, kisses your hand, gives you his jacket if you are cold, opens doors

- Writes you beautiful letters with perfume on it

- Is the perfect dance partner

- You admire the way he speaks and writes so elegantly

- He plays the violin and piano, by education obligation. But when he notices how much you love it, he slowly grows to like it himself.

- He introduces you to his favourite cousin, Andromeda

- Shy kisses, passionate kisses, soft kisses

- So many kisses

- When Sirius leaves the family house/gets kicked out, things become heated.

- He keeps repeating how much he hates him for abandoning him. Deep down, you know that he still loves his brother

- Depressive episodes of feeling like he's not enough

- Tears and comforting hugs in the dormitories

- He tries desperately to fix things between his parents (understand by that Walburga), rather than step out for his beliefs

- A lot of pressure

- You give him shoulder massages and run your fingers through his black curls

- When he is given the Black family ring, after some time, he gives it to you because of the protection spells on it. He just wants to keep you safe.

- His patronus is originally Padfoot. After a while, it shifts into the same as yours, because no one makes him more happy than you

- He avoids the matter of the mark. But in the summer of his 16th birthday, when he suddenly stops answering your letters, you have a bad feeling

- That reveals to be true when you go back to Hogwarts

- You encourage him, again and again, to talk to his brother

- In the end, i like to believe that he proposed, and fought for his beliefs because he wanted to build a safe world for you and his future family

(a girl is allowed to dream)

[beegomess]

Dark Paradise || Theodore Nott

Don't forget to watch the previous chapters

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated🫶🏼

07. Hidden Diseres

This chapter has content for adults! The next morning, during breakfast, Dumbledore gave a brief speech about the last few months of classes and the magic of the end of the year. Y/N thought it was exaggerated, considering that they would still have classes after the new year, after all, they would only be out of school for a few days, at least those who had families.

Draco was a rag, he didn't even seem to have slept the night before. Earlier that morning, Y/N went to his brother's room to disguise the evident dark circles and tiredness with potions.

- Where did you spend the night? - Y/N whispered to his brother sitting next to him at the big table, since he was not in a position to talk to when they were still in the room.

- It's a long story, believe me. - the boy replied during a yap, and parallel to that, a last student enters the big hall.

Astoria was radiant, she couldn't stop smiling when she sat next to her sister. Daphne and Y/N immediately looked at each other, wondered from the look if this would be possible. Draco always implied that he would never relate to the younger Greengrass.

Theodore was as tired as Draco, the boy had slept, but certainly the amount of drink ingested the night before began to have a reverse effect on his body, his body looked broken, his mouth was more dead and his eyes more sensitive than ever.

[...]

On the Hogwarts express, on the temporary return home, a part of the friends were in a cabin. Generally, the Elite Slytherin cabin was noisy, but not today.

- Wow, you guys are horrible! - Pansy exclaims when she sees Theodore and Draco. - I think it's better to cover these marks, your father is not the type who will laugh at it. - She was referring to the marks Draco had on his neck, which due to its color, seemed even more prominent.

- I've already tried to cover it, but it keeps coming out. - Y/N snorts picking up more makeup in the bag. - You should do the same Theodore, it looks like you were strangled. For Merlin, control yourself next time. - For a moment, Y/N managed to pretend indifference to Nott, that's because she was so angry with Draco that she masked her true frustration for knowing who had done that in Theodore.

- You should come with us, Theo. His father is no longer very receptive to those who have signs of a hangover. - Mattheo said with a silly smile on his face, he was right, Theodore used to spend the night before Christmas at Malfoy Mansion, since every year the family gave a huge dinner with his father and other members of the witch elite. But I wanted to avoid Y/N as much as possible now, his attraction to her last night had warned him about how needy he feels for her. Theodore decided not to answer Riddle's question, hoping that they would no longer touch on the subject.

- Raise your face. - Y/N orders very close to him, she had a makeup brush in one hand and a mixture of shades of concealer in the other. - Matt is right, if you are going to go back to your house, it is better to disguise it. - At this point, Theodore already had his face up, while she spread the liquid of her tone on her stained skin. - As yours are less visible, I believe that only a light massage on the spot will solve. You can also put ice packs, this helps to disappear faster.

- You know too much about it. - Blaise jokes.

- And you should all thank me for that. - Y/N seemed serious, Theodore could smell her perfume at this distance, the air that came out of her beat gently against Nott's skin, who felt shocks every time it happened.

- Thank you. - Theodore said quietly when she walked away, signaling that she was ready.

- The makeup won't last until tomorrow's dinner, so treat it today. - Malfoy looked harsher than usual. Pansy and Blaise understood, having to cover marks that someone else left on the boy you're in love with shouldn't be really pleasant.

Y/N and Theodore were silent throughout the trip, she reading a book and he wandering his eyes on her face looking for any attention she could give, but no movement happened.

When they get off the train, Y/N silently regrets seeing Nott getting into the black car and his driver closing the door. She felt bad because she knew how cruel Theodore's father could be since his mother's death, and how he would be alone in that huge place. Theodore envied them in this aspect, even though Mattheo did not have the most loving family in the world, he was always in the company of the Malfoys during prolonged holidays, and even if Lúcios and Narcisa were not very affectionate with Riddle, he would still have the company of Draco and Y/N.

- Come on, Y/N. - Draco calls already from inside his car, Y/N enters and waits for the door to close while he feels his chest tighten.

Even if she denied it in her consciousness, her feeling for Theodore was real, and all this concern for his well-being and the anxiety of seeing him the next day were symptoms of what she was really feeling. Another thing that became more evident to her about her feelings was the fact that she felt a spark of chest pain the night before when she saw him with Laila. Y/N knew herself enough to know that this was not common for her, so she, who has never felt a shred of jealousy whether she is from Pucey or any other boy with whom she has already been related.

- Don't you think Y/N? - Mattheo takes her out of her sentimental daydreams.

- Excuse me?

- Your brother gave the idea for us to spend the New Year at one of these parties in London, what do you think? - Mattheo seemed excited and Draco didn't even look like that dead alive from earlier.

- Whatever.

If she were sincere, she would have said that she did not hear a word of what Riddle said, even if she looked at him, her mind wandered somewhere else, someone else.

[...]

The arrival at home was silent, there seemed to be no one, they were greeted only by the domestic elf and the noise of their steps on the stairs. Y/N spent the rest of the day in his room, the day was cloudy and cold, too melancholic to socialize with whoever it was.

It was already late when she was reading some book in her bed, the lines of the story were more explicit with every letter, the sheets and duvets that covered her legs had already come out due to a sudden heat. The story seemed too interesting for her now, who decided to simply ignore her sensations and try to sleep.

Y/N really tried, but the sparks had already invaded his mind and his dreams. In a small nap, a brief dream happens.

Y/N saw the ceiling of any Hogwarts classroom, his back arched on the table on which a teacher usually settled. The feeling in the middle of his legs was wonderful, they made low moans come out of his bitten lips.

The uniform was messy, buttons open and the skirt was raised, the legs were bent and open, the handshake on the thighs of Y/N, forcing them to stay open to him, were so strong and tight that it left reddish marks.

As he lowered his eyes further, he saw Theodore's lascivious look, kneeling at her and worshipping her with his mouth. As soon as he realized that she was close to her limit, Theodore gets up and drags his mouth to Y/N's neck, leaving marks all over her trunk. The feeling of feeling him invade his body and stretch his walls was like being in the clouds, and he didn't seem to feel sorry for her not being used to him, and that was so aggressively good.

- You're so good, aren't you dear? - Y/N didn't even hear what he said when he came across those eyes again, his soul entering as he made her get closer and closer. - So good dreaming of me fucking you.

The last sentence made her freeze, and Y/N immediately woke up. The chest going up and down, panting, frightened by his own dream, but still sleepy. She moved around and felt the slide of her soaked intimacy at this point. With her eyes still closed and with the image of her dream in mind, she goes down one hand to the shorts of her pajamas, moves her panties away and starts a light pressure on her clitoris.

The legs opening automatically, the other hand squeezing the sheets and the lips letting out low moans in response to the sensations. She decides to provoke herself and goes down her fingers to her entrance, entering with two of them herself.

His skin shivered and his spine arched. A sly smile appeared on his face when he imagined that his fingers were Theodore's, even though his were longer and reached deeper places in it. The back and forth movements frustrated her because it was not he who made them, so the fingers crawl out again, forming a thread of the liquid that flowed.

He massaged the nerve bundle higher up again and his legs began to shake slightly. The breathing was already out of step with the moans mixed with heavy sighs, the skin was goosebumps while the fingers wrapped in the sheets. Y/N imagined Theodore all the time, holding back so as not to moan loudly.

The arching of the back and neck, the head back and the half-open lips were a common sign that she was about to cum.

- Teddy...- let his name slip away and felt his orgasm consume when he imagined, one last time, the moment when Theodore looked at her while his mouth was smeared by her folds. ________________________________________

xoxo, bee✨🫶🏼

next chapter>>>

[just-another-star-47]

Scents 🌹

How does each and every person in Hogwarts smell?

Slytherin edition 🐍

Plonbraw edition (OCs) • Gryffindor edition • Hufflepuff edition • Ravenclaw edition

Sebastian 🦊

Its own odour tickles the nose like warm, damp earth on a walk after the first drops of rain have touched the ground. It envelops without being intrusive and awakens an indefinite anticipation of more whenever dark clouds gather in the sky.

He was and is often responsible for the fieldwork at Feldcroft, sometimes voluntarily, sometimes to escape the house and Solomon. To soften the traces of hard labour, he uses a nourishing balm for his hands, the delicate smell of chamomile and marigold accompanies him even into the castle walls at Hogwarts, as his rough hands are often seen by him as very unpleasant. He also takes care of the rest of his appearance, regularly buying hair gel in Hogsmeade to tame his slightly curly hair, the delicate smell of yang-yang is the result, mixed with the rose of his hair soap.

However, the slightly sweet note of his care products does not make the soft woody odour of his skin disappear, but rather embeds it in a sweetish warmth.

Anne 🐈

A field full of flowers in May, surrounded by the light tartness of the strawy grass - the nose can't miss it and makes anyone passing by think of cheeky children's pranks on balmy summer days.

Anne doesn't use perfume per se, but perfumed soap, in memory of her mother, with whom she associates the smell. The delicate scent of violets blends wonderfully with her own floral scent and is more restrained than overpowering. The soap is one of the few luxuries that Solomon allows and eventually buys himself, ignoring the objections of Sebastian, who was previously responsible for buying it and had often helped out in the neighbours' fields in Feldcroft to earn the necessary money.

The moment Anne's spring-like odour was replaced by the stench of medicines and hospitals was the moment when hopelessness sank its claws into the siblings' minds - the delicate smell of violets now strangely alien and a mere, sad reminder of days long forgotten.

Ominis 🐇

Fresh and cool, like the smell on a path that leads through a dense forest, where you have lost your way and yet feel only security. Ominis has a fine nose and therefore refrains from using any perfumed products - they only make him feel woozy or give him a headache. Nevertheless, the smell of cleanliness always clings to him, which seems almost minty. To escape the clammy smell of the Slytherin rooms, he stores his clothes between bags filled with lavender, which adds a hint of flavour to his watery inherent odour. In addition, the purple flower helps him against his restless states, which always afflict him.

Imelda 🐍

She spends most of her time in the air, Quidditch training not only a part of her that is ingrained in her blood, but that also affects her scent.

Leathery like a well-groomed Quaffle, slightly tart and spicy, the smell of the salty coastal wind of her home village never quite fades.

Imelda wears a perfume that her brothers gave her for her birthday - a slightly smoky note with a splash of invigorating lemon and exotic vanilla.

[marketfreshfics]

OC: Paisley Gallos

Basics:

Full name: Paisley November Gallos Nickname: Pais Gender: Female Species: Witch / Vampire Date of birth: December 14th, 1874 Nationality: Spanish-French, born in the Americas Blood status: Muggleborn Wand: Walnut, dragon heartstring, 11”, unyielding

Appearance

Hair colour: Dark brown / mahogany Hairstyle: Short, wavy Eye colour: Hazel Skin tone: Medium Height: 5’2” Body type: Average, slight muscle definition

Clothing style: Functionality takes priority; light-medium, but durable fabrics such as cotton and leather for ease of movement. Prefers more fitted clothing, especially when travelling or exploring outside the castle walls. Fond of worn denim; often wears her brother’s hand-me-down pairs when out of class.

Accessories:

Often carries a harmonica in her back pocket

Her father’s wristwatch, despite it always running a few minutes ahead

Other distinguishing features:

Three diagonal scars on the left side of her jaw (obtained while trying to escape from a vampire)

Two small birthmarks below her bottom lip

Personality

Traits: Intelligent, resourceful, clever, determined, crass, blunt, intuitive, curious, decisive, quick to anger, observant, goal-oriented, remorseful Likes: Early morning hikes, writing in a new notebook, solving problems, the ocean, strong coffee (with two sugar cubes), stargazing, foraging for minerals/rocks Dislikes: Perfume, wet socks, the afternoon sun, formal attire, dishonesty Hobbies: Fishing, metalsmithing (when out of school) Fears: The unknown, her own thirst (once she becomes a vampire)

MBTI: INFJ-A Zodiac: Sagittarius sun, Aquarius moon, Libra rising Temperament: Choleric Archetype: The Rebel Similar characters: Remus Lupin, Albus Dumbledore, Sam Winchester, Harry Callahan, Lisa Simpson, Han Solo, Max Mayfield, Jon Snow

Family/Friends

Father: Pierre - Muggle, Fisherman Mother: Rosalyn - Muggle, Teacher (Died in 1882 from scarlet fever) Sibling(s): Mathieu (age 19) Pet(s): Barred Owl, “Crispen” Friends: Sebastian Sallow, Ominis Gaunt, Garreth Weasley, Amit Thakkar, Natsai Onai

Magic

Boggart: Extremely thick fog, accompanied by a foghorn Patronus: Colossal squid Polyjuice: Turns crimson, tastes like spring water and copper Amortentia: Smoke, bergamot and clean, starched cotton Special abilities:

Fire-based offensive spells and charms

Non-verbal magical spells

(Once transformed into a vampire) can sometimes "absorb" a person's abilities after consuming their blood

Backstory

Born in Nova Scotia, Canada to immigrant muggle parents, Paisley grew up in a small fishing village just on the outskirts of a port city. Because of this, she spent many days on fishing vessels with her father and older brother, while her mother worked as a teacher at the schoolhouse in town. When she was eight, her mother fell gravely ill and unfortunately passed away from complications of scarlet fever. Her father, Pierre, often struggled to balance work obligations with raising Paisley and Mathieu, and more often than not her older brother was left responsible, which caused her to develop a great deal of independence.

Being from a non-magical family, Paisley's magic was a startling discovery. It revealed itself when, while arguing with her brother, she made a milk bottle spontaneously explode in frustration. The following morning, two members from the Ministry for Magic arrived, explained magical abilities to her and her family, and promptly enrolled her in the Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

She was sorted into the Horned Serpent house, based on her high level of intelligence and ambitious, goal-oriented mindset.

Paisley excelled in her studies, her hunger for knowledge consistent, and while graduating from her fifth year she was recognized for her advanced magical comprehension. She was hand-selected by the Minster for Magic himself to take part in an accelerated graduate program at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, and with great excitement she transferred at the start of her sixth year. Having researched the Hogwarts houses before her arrival, she anticipated being sorted into Ravenclaw... however the mysterious rumours about the Slytherin house fostering several dark wizards in history captivated her curiosity, and thus the sorting hat placed her there instead.

Soon after arriving at Hogwarts, she was captured by a well-known criminal, who subsequently bit her and changed her into a vampire against her will. The details around this, and why she was selected specifically, are still unknown...

Academics

Best subject: DADA Favourite subject: Astrology Favourite teachers: Professor Fig, Professor Sharp Worst subject: History of Magic Least favourite subject: Divination, Theory of Magic Least favourite teacher: Binns Quidditch: N/A

As a student:

Prioritizes her studies as much as possible; she is aware of the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to study at Hogwarts and does not take it for granted.

Sometimes misses classes without explanation, particularly on sunny days.

She is always happy to help fellow classmates, however, she is wary of many. This only increases once she has been turned.

Mostly keeps to herself; has few, close friends, with whom she places a great deal of trust.

Future

Career: Researcher or Archivist Naturally, Paisley is drawn to a career path that allows her the opportunity to further her education and learn something new. Her ambitions focus on filling her brain with as much information as possible, so taking up a job as a Researcher or Archivist for the Ministry is very much in her wheelhouse.

Spouse: TBD Children: TBD

Special thanks to @hazyange1s for letting me follow their OC layout 🤍

[hermiones-amortentia]

Distinct character development of Ron in all 7 BOOKS

He was shitty to Hermione in 4th year. He asked her to dance with him at Bill and Fleur's wedding in DH before anyone.

He was scared to werewolves in 3rd year. But He defended remus at the grimmauld place in DH.

He was scared of half giants. But it was him who defended Hagrid against luna when Luna called him a bad teacher.

He was against SPEW. But during the battle of Hogwarts  it was him who wanted to save the house elves when Hermione had forgotten about them.

He was rude to Luna initially. But in HBP he appreciated her Quidditch commentary when everyone else made fun of her. He also said she had got ten times her father's guts.

He was all about physical appearance in GOF. But it was him who gave Harry advice to date a more cheerful person in OOTP.

He was scared of uttering Voldemort's name throughout all 7 books. But it was him who yelled at voldy 'he beat you' in DH and broke the silencing charm.

He hates Crookshanks in 3rd year. Later he took Crookshanks' validation whether pig was good or not.

He bought Hermione a perfume in OOTP to make up for his atrocious behaviour in 4th year.

He thought he was least loved by everyone. But in the epilogue he joked about him being famous.

Not fanfics. He has such growth in canon books. Let that sink in

[eggymf-archived]

of paper planes and wildflowers; 12

ft. ominis gaunt with f!reader (series)

chapter warnings: duncan hobhouse, just chaos all around, warranted assholery?, a slightly unhinged author? (lmao idk y’all decide that for yourselves), idiots in love

chapter summary: subtlety was necessary to preserve one's reputation, and in this case, to keep your lives trouble-free from nosy little bastards. alas, a certain bespectacled male is threatening the peace with his desire for vengeance after facing the biggest humiliation in his entire life. 

word count: 5.8k

a/n: haven’t written for this series in a hot minute, but yolkie is back with more chaos.

main masterlist || series masterlist || AO3

Etiquette — the unspoken, number one rule that every person of eloquence swears to like a lifetime oath. To a young woman such as yourself, it was necessary to exercise restraint and prudence all in the name of preserving your own dignity. Any acts that will make a lady lose her composure are to be avoided, and she must maintain an iron-clad will capable of resisting the most entrancing of charms, especially from men.

Unfortunately for you, your pen pal was insanely lethal with his well-thought execution of words, and you’ve never gone through a week without at least screaming into your unfortunate pillow once for the past few weeks. A sharp wit alongside his innate gentlemanly ways? It truly made you weak at the knees, and you didn't bother denying it at this point.

Ominis Gaunt was indeed a formidable force to be reckoned with. 

My Dearest, (Y/N) The wintery air is getting rather brutal as of late, and I couldn't help but overhear the chattering of your teeth whenever I'm near you. As much as I'd love to whisk you away just to warm up by a fireplace wrapped with warm blankets or, dare I say it, in each other's arms, we are unfortunately in different houses with different common rooms. Instead, I took the liberty of going to Hogsmeade to buy you some Pepper Imps from Honeydukes and Pepperup Potions from J. Pippins. Be careful not to consume either one of those too much lest you aspire to be a fire-breathing dragon or another Hogwarts Express with all that steam coming out of your ears.  May this warm you up despite my physical absence. With everlasting devotion, Ves P.S. I mean it, by the way. As to which part of my letter I'm pertaining to, I shall leave it up to your own assumption.

Your lips were tightly pressed together, desperately suppressing your series of snorts and giggles as you inhaled sharply in hopes of maintaining your composure. The piece of parchment was neatly folded in half and kept securely within your inner coat pocket while you placed the box of Pepper Imps and Pepperup Potions atop your small stack of books. Much to the chagrin of your rational side, (who was being a complete spoilsport by vehemently reminding you of how a lady should act) your cheeky little eyes decided to sneakily glance towards the Slytherin table, only to find that your beloved sender isn't there. 

“Hello there.”

The sound of cutlery rattling against ceramic cut through the otherwise peaceful ambiance as you instinctively turned towards Ominis, your hand hitting your plate accidentally.

“Oh! Erm… Hello,” you coughed, clearing your throat, and moving your things aside so that he could take a seat beside you. He gratefully accepts, his perfume wafting to your nose, smelling absolutely divine as usual. Nothing that your self-control couldn’t handle, though.

“I need your help with this part of the essay that's due next week. Merlin, Transfiguration can be rather vexing at times,” he groans.

“Is this about what you wrote to me via owl the other day?”

Ominis nods in response with a sigh, handing you a piece of parchment, your eyes instantly scanning over his written words speedily. 

“Seems a bit lacking, but it's fixable. I could help you with this if you'd like,” you suggested with much enthusiasm.

“Thank you, truly. I'd gladly take up on that offer,” he smiles while you grinned in response, happily chattering away with him as you ate the remnants of your lunch.

Truth be told, this whole request of his was merely just an excuse for him to spend more time with you aside from your usual obligations. There was really not much the both of you could do within the Great Hall or anywhere within the castle grounds for the sake of following proper decorum: the both of you had to be careful from prying eyes to save yourselves from the terrors of gossip or anything that will put your images on the line. 

Reputation — arguably the most shallow yet still the most important to any young witch or wizard who wished to be respected by their fellow peers. Despite its fragility, it was the root of many beginnings within a social circle, especially as someone who was in the process of making a name for themselves. 

But how far were you exactly willing to go for how the public eye perceives you? Surely no one's insane enough to fabricate their own image with the threads of lies. With how fast news travels within the walls of Hogwarts, deceptions of the sort would crumble down in a blink of an eye; like lightning smiting a spire with its unbridled force, resulting in its untimely destruction despite its fortified state.

Such is the case with Duncan Hobhouse, who was moments away from experiencing what the mystics know as “The Tower” moment: a point of sudden upheaval— an inevitable crisis. 

As to how it all began, it was ironically brilliant yet stupidly careless all at the same time: while you and Ominis were in your happy little bubble, a 6th year Ravenclaw student, who happened to be sitting beside Duncan, had mistakenly grabbed her secret vial of nearly-perfected Veritaserum instead of her specially-made Gillywater from her satchel. Before she could check the labels, she had already poured out the contents into her cup, only for Duncan to mistakenly drink the cloudy liquid whilst in a fit of coughs from his food going down the wrong pipe. 

Needless to say, things went downhill pretty fast.

“Oi, Hobhouse! Pass me the pudding, will you?!” Andrew Larson called out, only to be met with an uncharacteristically bold and snarky reply from the fuller-bodied male.

“How about you get it yourself, you blonde-haired, scrawny little prick?! The last time I checked you have a pair of functioning hands and legs!”

Who would've thought that a slightly botched Veritaserum could have a similar effect to a Befuddlement Potion?

Andrew stared at him dumbfoundedly with the most incredulous expression on his face while Eric Northcott and Leander Prewett, who were seated and standing near him respectively, had their mouths ajar out of shock. Duncan was no different from the three— his eyes wide as he slapped his mouth instinctively after spewing out a set of brutally honest words for once.

The 6th year seated beside him visibly paled, hurriedly rummaging through her satchel, only to find her vial of Gillywater within it before checking her own cup, which was now nearly empty.

“Oh no…” she whispers while Duncan whipped his head towards her direction in evident panic. “I think you drank from my cup….”

Duncan whips his head in her direction, giving her a panicked yet furious glower.

“Well go on! Tell me, you foul insect! What was in your blasted cup?!” he hissed, much to her fright.

“I… I have to go!” She cries out, collecting her things in a fit of distress as she makes a beeline for the Great Hall’s gargantuan doors for the sake of self-preservation. It was, after all, against the school rules to use Veritaserum on a student, and she had done just that albeit accidentally. 

However, she ended up leaving the empty vial with a written label adhered to its surface, the bottle rolling from underneath the wooden bench. Duncan reaches for the bottle, only for another hand to grab it away from him. Eric Northcott smirks at this, both Leander and Andrew crossing their arms with smug grins on their faces as Eric read the label before dangling the bottle in front of Duncan's visibly terrified face.

“I believe we've struck gold this time around, my fellow lads! Hobhouse is under the truth serum! ”

A chorus of ooooohs soon followed, garnering the attention of students from the other tables as well. You and Ominis, who were both quietly minding your own business, paid close attention to the scene nearby. 

“Wait! Shouldn't we report this to a professor—” Amit Thakkar attempts to intervene, only for a piece of bread to be stuffed in his mouth by Everett Clopton, who shot him a glare. You glanced around, expecting at least a prefect to jump in to intervene, only to find none. Hell, even the Head Girls and Boys remained seated, watching the whole scenario unfold attentively. 

Exactly how horrible is this person to the point that no one's bothering to stand up for him?

“Goodness. Hobhouse is so unlikable even the prefects aren't bothering to help at all. Not sure if I should be impressed but that's quite a feat, I suppose?” you commented with a grimace, much to Ominis' amusement.

“And not a single professor in sight too. Go on, Andrew. Do the honors,” Eric snickers, much to the said male's delight.

“Let's test it out first with a simple little question, shall we? I'm feeling rather merciful today, anyways,” Andrew began, pacing back and forth before leaning towards Duncan. “Is it true that you're afraid of Puffskeins?” 

Duncan's lips quivered, attempting to suppress the potion's effects, all to no avail.

“... Y-yes.”

Giggles and chortles erupted from the others around him while Andrew snorted in amusement, patting Leander's shoulder who immediately sat beside Duncan, his hand pressing over his shoulder harshly as soon as he attempted to escape. 

“Hey, Hobhouse. Is it true that you wrote a love letter to Imelda Reyes?” the lanky ginger-haired male asks.

“... Yes.”

Wolf whistles soon erupted from the Slytherin table, much to Imelda's chagrin.

“So what did she say?” Andrew queries.

“... She… Didn't reply.”

Guffaws of laughter immediately followed his answer, much to his painful embarrassment.

“You're not my type, Hobhouse!” Imelda hollered from the Slytherin table, causing another round of ooooohs to erupt from the crowd as they all grimaced at the blatant public rejection.

“Hey, Northcott!” Ominis shouts, beckoning the Gryffindor to come over before whispering into his ear. Duncan became as white as a sheet upon realizing who Eric was talking to. The said male came jogging back towards him with an evil grin plastered on his face.

This was the perfect opportunity to expose him for his cowardice once and for all.

“So, tell me, Hobhouse. That gigantic Venomous Tentacula leaf you showed all of us a week or two ago as proof of your courage — who got it for you?”

Duncan grits his teeth, beads of cold perspiration running down the side of his face.

“...S… Skylar… Evans…” he admits through clenched teeth, ending with a sharp gasp. Murmurs soon filled the Great Hall after this revelation followed by a series of jeers. 

In a fit of rage, Duncan shoved Leander off him, falling ungracefully off the bench before scrambling to his feet and running towards the exit of the Great Hall. The faint sounds of snickers from his fellow peers pricked against the skin of his ears spitefully, reducing him into a seething, fiery red mess in the face as he attempts to run away from their mocking gaze.

His life, as of that moment, was over.

His reputation, the sole thing that he had desperately tried to fix after that embarrassment he faced during Defense Against the Dark Arts classes a while back, was now irreparably ruined no thanks to all that had happened beforehand during lunch break. 

Stupid Boggart. Stupid Puffskeins. Had Professor Hecat decided not to push through with that bloody lesson then perhaps he wouldn’t be in this mess. It was all their fault: Eric Northcott, Andrew Larson, Leander Prewett, and last but not least, Ominis Gaunt.

Duncan's blood boiled at the mere notion of the Slytherin student's name, gnashing his teeth in silence while clenching his pudgy fist as he made his way to his next class. Ominis Gaunt was a thorn that was permanently embedded into his flesh — the bane of his entire existence. Had Ominis just chosen to zip his mouth about the matter of their long, petty feud regarding his clear lack of courage, then perhaps he would be at peace at this very moment with his pathetically glued-up reputation still intact albeit barely.

But of course, Duncan, at the end of the day, was a big fat liar and not the best egg around with his innately horrid attitude that is well-known, especially amongst his Ravenclaw housemates, and Ominis had no qualms with putting such people rightfully into their places. In fact, the young Gaunt thrived off the chaos of well-deserved misery.

To Duncan Hobhouse, this was war. Ominis Gaunt will pay for this great humiliation dearly— an eye for an eye; a tooth for a tooth.

Thus, his grand plan for vengeance begins.

It has been a few days— two painful days to be precise. Duncan had been watching Ominis like an ever-vigilant Augurey within the shadows, peering from a relatively safe distance as he attempted to observe the misty-eyed male. Gathering information, after all, was necessary in executing his dastardly plans of exposing his top tormentor once and for all. Surely the Gaunt has at least one weakness that he could use as ammunition to snipe him off his back for good.

Initially, the greasy-haired male had thought that spying on the blind student would be an easy feat given his disability. He has (and rather oafishly at that) always viewed Ominis as vulnerable despite his snark— the type who would be alone most of the time with no one to fend for him other than his sharp tongue. To further fuel his shallow inferences, Sebastian Sallow, Ominis' own best friend, hasn't been loitering much around his presence as of late. His plan was assumed to be nearly “perfect” based on his own standards until it wasn't.

Aside from the Gaunt constantly either sleeping, reading the same poem book in a corner, occasionally having small talk with his fellow 5th years, or studying with you in the library, there was nothing noteworthy that can be used to clang the bells of shame on him. To make matters more unfavorable for the bespectacled male, you had been accompanying Ominis for the majority of the time even during break times, much to his utter confusion.

Duncan's eyes, ridden with suspicion, squinted accusingly as you and Ominis loitered at the fountain of the currently not-so-crowded Central Hall, seemingly in good spirits with your little interaction. You were attempting to pry a book from his hands, only for the taller male to merely raise the book out of reach from your smaller stature. He had an amused expression plastered on his face, his lips curled into the faintest of smiles with pink tinging his cheeks. 

The whole sight of the young Gaunt's evident happiness annoyed the male Ravenclaw to no end. In the sea of his own inner bitterness, there was, however, a small little question that was begging to be addressed albeit its irrelevance to the matter at hand.

Since when have the two of you been this close?

At the sound of the several shuffling footsteps nearby, he instantly retreats behind the wall, glaring at whoever interrupted his momentary pondering session.

“You know, Natty. I know that she's a Ravenclaw, but bloody hell she's really quite daft when it comes to romance, isn't she?” the faint voice of Garreth Weasley groans. “They've been at this for weeks now. I'm going mad!”

“Oh, stop being dramatic. All that matters is that they're happy and aren't getting into trouble,” Natsai dismisses while Garreth sighed woefully.

“I suppose you're right. Ominis can't be that bad. Though I wouldn't mind if he was— ow! What was that for?!” Garreth winces upon getting elbowed rather sharply by his fellow Gryffindor, their footsteps fading as they sauntered through the nearby hallway.

Duncan furrowed his eyebrows in further bemusement, heading to a better spot where he could observe the situation from a much better angle. Surely someone was pulling his leg right now. There was no way in hell that the assumption that had been injected within his head upon eavesdropping on Weasley and Onai is correct. 

Ominis Gaunt and you? It simply doesn't make sense. 

He leans casually against the wall with eyes zeroing on his sole target, only for his concentration to be interrupted once more by yet another pair of people who were merely passing by: Poppy Sweeting and Skylar Evans.

“... Is there something going on between them? Never expected them to become this close,” a rather inquisitive Poppy muses, which was met with a cheeky little giggle from Skylar who merely raised her eyebrows. Poppy's eyes widened.

“There is?!” she mouthed silently while the taller Hufflepuff nodded in response. The duo were soon out of sight as they headed up the main stairwell that leads to the exit. 

A flabbergasted Duncan glances at you and Ominis once again, his mouth hanging open with pure shock. So it's true then: something is going on with you and Ominis. But unfortunately, this wasn’t the information that he needed. Thus, his impatience eventually got the best of him.

“Oh, to hell with it all!” he seethes, stomping towards the library while throwing a hissy fit like a sweet-deprived petulant child. This was hopeless— utterly nonsensical. He was a complete fool for even thinking that this ploy would work. The bitter taste of defeat flooded Duncan's mouth, and he was ready to just lash out at the nearest Muggleborn who dared to cross his path.

That is until he was finally graced with an opportunity as he overheard your conversation with Ominis as he walked by.

“...Precisely why it shouldn't be handled carelessly,” Ominis hums, tapping the book that was still held by his pale, veiny hands.

“Oh? And this book contains some sort of secret that I'm not aware of?” you curiously inquired. Ominis smirks.

“Certainly. That's why I urge you to not open or even touch it for your own sake. It may seem like an ordinary book but really, it's not. My father will be livid once he finds out about the contents. You could say it’s… A dirty little secret of some sort.”

Alas, a boy's broken ego holds no bounds, and his level of futile pettiness outweighs his sense of sound rationality, clamoring at every opportunity no matter how dodgy it seemed— an accurate depiction of Duncan Hobhouse at this very moment as delusions of victory filled his thick skull once again.

It was a pitiful case of selective hearing fueled by desperation. Oh, when will he ever learn?

Subtlety— the art of using indirectness with graceful tact; a simple strategy that avoids any unnecessary trouble while also featuring one's own wit. There were two cases of the particular day that embodies the essence of the word, which shall unravel itself within the four towering walls of the library— one depicting the daintiness of a maiden and her heart's desire, and the other featuring the mind of a tactful strategist who's currently under the watchful eye of an enemy spy.

There was a certain stillness within the place at this particular time of the day along with it being nearly deserted, which was perfectly conducive for studying. You had promised to help Ominis with a particular assignment, and both of you were in the presently deserted Transfiguration Section, searching for several specific books that he needed for his write-up. Your eyes scan the book spines with your study buddy following you closely, enjoying the present tranquility.

However, the ever-fleeting peace soon disintegrated as soon as you witnessed a certain Ravenclaw male peering from a distance, his determined eyes fixated on a certain foggy-eyed male before instantly darting back behind a nearby bookshelf. Your lips curled downwards, turning to Ominis.

“Say, Hobhouse has been rather weird today. I think this is the 6th time I’ve seen him loitering around us,” you pointed out. An aggravated exhale escaped his lips.

“He’s been stalking for days, actually. It’s getting rather annoying.”

“Days? Oh dear. Is this about the whole fiasco in the Great Hall earlier this week? I could tell him to bugger off if you want. He's known to be quite insufferable when he's crossed.” 

“I’d rather not dwell on it too much, really. It’s better to bore him to death than give him another reason to yap about how I’m the villain in his delusional scenarios,” Ominis yawns, to which you chuckled whilst nodding in agreement. 

Duncan did have that gnarly reputation of wallowing in his theatrical self-pity, and you had witnessed it many times before the incident. Ominis brushing him off though? It was both respectably mature and amusing of him all at the same time, given his blatant record of dragging the ebony-haired male to absolute filth with his sassy quips and haughty remarks.

Unbeknownst to anyone other than Ominis himself, however, he was far from taking the high road this time around. It wasn’t difficult to sense that Duncan was truly out for his blood with how incessant he was for the past few days. Truth be told, it left an unsettling feeling within the Gaunt’s gut. For his own safety, he had laid out a fairly simple trap.

A famished animal was bound to do whatever it takes to get its food no matter the cost, and all Ominis had to do was wait for it to take the bait.

“Well, if you insist. The offer still stands if you change your mind. Though I have to admit. Your… Omniscience is quite impressive,” you mused. “For someone who lacks the sense of sight, you’re surprisingly more aware of your surroundings than most people with the complete set of five.”

“Omniscience? I'm not a deity, you know,” he chuckles. “I can just feel it when someone is looking at me. I think you of all people should be most aware of that. How many times have I caught you staring at me again?”

“Oh, wipe that smirk off your face, Gaunt,” you rolled your eyes in jest at his question, a reddish hue creeping up your cheeks as your voice dropped into a mumble. “It's not my fault you're so… Easy on the eyes.”

Now, it was his turn to blush while the corner of his lips twitched upwards ever so lightly. “... Easy on the eyes, eh? So you're not denying it anymore.”

“That I look at you from time to time? Maybe.”

“Time to time is a bit of an understatement, don't you think?”

“Not really. Unless you're insinuating an invitation of some sort. Perhaps you want me to lay my eyes upon you more?” you raised an eyebrow nonchalantly. An amused chuckle rumbled from his chest as he leaned against the bookshelf while crossing his arms.

“I’m not opposed to that, but I’ll leave it to your own assumptions, my dearest.”

Upon hearing his words roll out from his tongue, you swore you felt time stop as realization dawns upon your unsuspecting little head. There it was— the sole proof you've been waiting for all this time.

It really was him, after all.

You paused, letting out a shaky exhale as you gazed longingly into his unseeing, milky blue eyes, shutting the heavy book in your hands with a soft thump. Verbally-said words aren't the form of concrete evidence that you had been seeking, but could you really lie to yourself at this point when the truth is already right in front of you this entire time? Perhaps throughout your pining, you were just being a coward towards your ever-growing feelings for Ominis Gaunt— the thought of a painful ending had caused you to overanalyze the entirety of the situation, merely looking at it from a lens of rationality instead of emotional intelligence. 

Alas, your foolishness has to end at some point, and you could only hope that you weren't too late.

“We both know it’s not an assumption at this point,” you stated with your fleeting newfound confidence surging through your veins. Ominis raised an eyebrow, his lips curling upwards.

“Oh? Getting bold, are we?”

“I believe “truthful” is the more accurate term. I'd much prefer to think of it as being honest with myself for once,” you sighed, turning towards him with your heart beating wildly within the confines of your ribs. 

“Ominis, my beloved evening star, the man of my affections, the keeper of my heart. Perhaps it's time that we finally stop this little game of cat and mouse?”

Ominis froze, his breath hitching at the specific endearment that spilled from your lips. Her beloved evening star — her Vesper.

Words failed to come out of his mouth as he stood there, stunned by your sudden heartfelt confession. He was an utter mess deep down, your words successfully obliterating his remaining brain cells into oblivion. His heart was deliriously hammering within his chest and his entire being felt absolutely featherlight— as if he could soar above the skies out of sheer bliss without a care in the world. For what seemed like an eternity, he finally let out a relieved exhale, gulping to soothe his parched throat. 

At long last, this day has finally arrived, and it was a lot more heart-stopping than he’d ever imagined it to be.

The pregnant silence that loomed between the both of you sent your mind into a flurry of nervousness, hopefulness slowly morphing into a sense of dread. To you, his deathly silence meant rejection, and you’d rather not crumble in front of anyone in your present increasingly vulnerable state.

“I… I'll just be on my way…” you muttered, tears stinging your eyes as you inhaled a lungful of air in hopes of maintaining your usual calm demeanor. You promptly returned the book you were previously flipping through before scampering to your belongings. 

Your dejection jolts him from his love-filled, hazy train of thoughts, his hands instinctively reaching for your smaller frame. You let out a small squeak of surprise as you were spun around, your face now pressed against his chest as he embraced you securely within his arms.

“Took you long enough…” he murmurs against your hair, relishing in the warmth of your body and your distinct floral scent— the scent that drove him nearly mad yet provided him with a sense of comfort and relief every single time it wafts up his nose. He was still in a state of disbelief, holding you with a hint of desperation as if you'll slip away from him once again the moment he lets go. 

Inhaling deeply once more, you succumb to your heart's desire, reciprocating his gesture with just as much fervor, tears of relief welling up in your eyes.

“... I was terrified you’d stop if I said yes," you admitted.

“And why is that?”

“You know how the tales of old wives go— things go stale after a while between couples and all that. And then there are novels depicting the same thing and I…” you trail off, bemoaning your worries. “Truth be told, I know nothing about this. I've never felt all of this before. I'm spewing out nonsense, aren't I?”

He lets out a deep hum, rummaging through his presently hopeless little brain for any words of comfort, all to no avail.

“If it helps, I haven't the slightest clue on how to handle this either.”

“That's not very reassuring.”

Ominis snorts at your deadpan response before erupting into a peal of mild laughter that instantly dispelled all your present worries. You joined in, bursting into a fit of giggles. He gently releases you from his hold, his hand cupping your cheek.

Your face was warm to the touch and he groaned lightly the moment he felt your pillowy lips brush against the skin of his palm. He never would've thought that it would come to this point— him needing to kiss someone so badly to the point where it hurts.

Pressing his forehead against yours, he uttered his plea with a slight tremor in his voice, the pad of his thumb caressing your lower lip.

“May I?”

Ba-thump... Ba-thump… Ba-thump…

“... Yes.”

The gap between both your lips was finally closed, your eyelids fluttering shut as he tenderly placed his lips upon yours. His hand wanders from your heated cheek to your nape, gently pulling you closer. He began to move his lips slowly, eliciting a soft whimper from you. A faint growl rumbled from his chest as he scooped you closer to him, placing his hand against the small of your back. 

This was bad. Your self-control was slowly whittling away no thanks to the heady scent of his perfume and minty breath after eating that Peppermint Toad earlier. And for such sacrilege to occur in the Transfiguration Section again? The realization on its own would’ve made you laugh if it weren’t for Ominis pushing you against a bookshelf, mindlessly bucking his hips against yours as he darts his tongue within your cavern to savor your taste.

The increasingly steamy moment was unfortunately cut short as a book was dropped unceremoniously on the wooden table at the opposite side of the bookshelf, a loud thud thundering across the library. You immediately pushed the lithe-framed male off you, instinctively fixing yourself while he turned away, pretending as if nothing had happened as he held his breath out of shock. The sound of Madam Scribner grumbling away was heard, and you could only heave a sigh of relief at her lack of awareness about what you and Ominis had done.

Ominis cleared his throat, his breathing less erratic as he clutched the books that you’ve picked out for his assignment.

“We should probably get started,” he mumbles while you nodded in response, scuttling away to your table. You were chewing on your lips this entire time as a way of containing yourself either from letting out a screech of sheer delight over the fact that you had finally done something right for your poor maiden heart, or a wail of horror after almost tarnishing your reputation by engaging in unsavory acts in a public space.

Either way, it was a happy ending for you and Ominis— for now, that is.

Upon sitting down at your seats, Ominis immediately reached for the short stack of books that he had left atop the table while the both of you were in the Transfiguration Section, only to find that there was one particular book missing. The corner of his mouth twitched upwards before reverting to its usual calm and collected state, scribbling away on his parchment.

And just like that, the prey fell into his simple little trap hook, line, and sinker. 

Surely he'll learn his lesson this time, right?

Karma— the summation of one’s actions; the most efficient teacher even to those who had been cursed with the thickest of skulls. The crippling lack of self-awareness is undoubtedly the greatest comedy of mankind, and oftentimes it was the main cause of one's own stagnancy in the development of the self. As long as one's ill will alongside actions prevails, one shall not roam free without paying the price of their actions. 

Such is the case with Duncan Hobhouse— again, but unsurprisingly so.

You watched in amazement as the fourth, fifth, and sixth consecutive misfortune befell him on this particular day. First, he had tripped on flat grounds before he could give his potion to Professor Sharp for inspection, causing his vial to shatter in the process. Upon going back to his station to refill another, his potion had solidified within his cauldron due to him forgetting to turn the heat off. Finally, as he was about to inform Professor Sharp of his plight, he slipped on the puddle of his own brew, hitting his head against the stone floor as he landed on his back with a pained groan.

The classroom buzzed with snickers and murmurs at the poor lad's plight, but it was soon silenced as Professor Sharp slammed his palm on the surface of his table, the rest of the remaining 5th years immediately focusing on their tasks at hand. The ex-Auror pinched the bridge of his nose, his patience progressively getting thinner and thinner at every mishap that had occurred within his classroom. It was only the first period, and he wanted to retire to his quarters (or better yet, from his job as a professor) as soon as possible. 

The visibly stressed-out Potions Master could only take so much tomfoolery from a bunch of oversized infants, after all.

Professor Sharp glanced longingly at his bottle of Firewhiskey at the corner of his classroom before reluctantly tearing his gaze from his coping mechanism, instructing Adelaide Oakes to bring Duncan to the Hospital Wing. Duncan hobbled towards his table, grabbing his Potions textbook along with a particular book belonging to a certain man named Ominis Gaunt who was in the same table as you were. Duncan glowered at poor Adeleide, who immediately slinked back to her station as he stormed out of the classroom on his own.

Peace soon looms over the Potions Classroom once again, the sound of faint bubbling concoctions and sparky mini explosions filling the room, only for it to be short-lived once again as a high-pitched scream echoed throughout the nearby hallway. 

And thus, you witness the seventh misfortune as Duncan ran past the classroom entrance with Peeves tailing him whilst cackling, armed with one of the decorative axes from the castle walls, ready to give him a good thwack.

For the first time, a part of Ominis relished in the outcome of his seemingly diabolical deed, the reverberating screams of fright belonging to his Ravenclaw nemesis sounding like the sweetest tune he had ever heard. He never expected that the hex he had placed on that book would be marvelously effective, and he made a mental note to safeguard his prized possessions with the very same spell — he had invented it himself, after all. 

Contrary to the rather brutal display of its effect courtesy of Duncan Hobhouse, it wasn’t an insidious spell as one would think once its true nature is understood. In fact, it was merely a hex that would only be triggered if an object were to be used for ill intent. With that notion in mind, Duncan’s intentions must’ve been utterly horrendous for the hex to be extremely potent, which was far more concerning than Ominis using the spell as a means of protection.

But then again, the crisis was successfully averted with impressive efficiency, and that alone was a source of pride for Ominis, who had a faint smile upon his thin lips. It was a rather productive day for him: successfully getting Duncan off his back, finishing his potion for Potions Class earlier than usual with you, and most of his assignments were already done in advance, leaving him with two options on what he shall do on his free time: studying with you somewhere within the castle grounds despite his reluctance, or convincing you to take a nap with him in a more secluded place. 

Either way, he already knew it was going to be a great day ahead.

< chapter 11: the duality of man 

chapter 13: a hideout within a hideout 🔞  >

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@xadriianaaa @roohuh @pugsnotdrugs92 @wolfiehardz @auxiliare @ohantonia @superblyspeedydragon @pnikfoyld @gh0stgirl333 @butterfly-lies-chase-them-away​ @solene88​ @msfantasy​ @lilith-motherofdemons @marriedtoeddie​ @shameless0shenanigans​ @coruscaret​ @ladylizzieofdarbyshire​ @stuffyownswrld​ @myrachondria​ @satsuki-miru-kiroshi​