#hp lightning era

[rewritingcanon]

future oliver wood because hes so girl dad coded:

[nicolillies]

drarry spider-man au 🕸️

walk with me here, harry raised by wolfstar. draco is the mayor’s son who figures out pretty quickly that harry is spider-man.

[marauder-misprint]

Platonic Fred and Reader where they make everyone think their dating, but it’s all a joke to them

Hi! I know you said platonic, but this is 100% a friends-to-lovers fake dating trope ❤︎ So it started platonic...

I have no regrets. Hope y'all enjoy ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

Friend who is a girl

Fred Weasley x fem!reader

8.6k words

cw: fluff, mutual pining, fake dating, Y/N

It wasn’t uncommon to find you doing your homework in the common room. Sure, a lot of people did their homework there, but you had the ability of getting work done while the Weasley twins and Lee planned pranks and fine-tuned products for the Weasleys’ future joke shop. You picked up this skill over the years as the trio of troublemakers decided that you would be their fourth member. Sometimes you think back to the first time they talked to you and wonder if you actually had a choice in joining their group. 

“Oi, what are you doing later?” Fred asks you, leaning over the table you’re sitting at.

“Nothing that I’m aware of,” you answer, not looking up from your book.

“Great! You’ll come watch quidditch practice then.”

You snort a laugh. “And why would I do that?”

“Because Wood’s girlfriend is going to watch and he told us to ask our girlfriends so she wouldn’t be so out of place in the stands.”

“Right… Um, two things. One, don’t you and George have a fan club or something that already goes to your practices? And two, we aren’t dating so I’m not… your girlfriend?” 

“Ah, but you’re my girl… friend. Friend who is a girl. I figure it’s close enough. And there’s no fan club. Good to know you think I’m attractive enough to warrant one though,” he says with a wink.”

You roll your eyes. Yes, Fred was attractive, but he didn’t need you to tell him that. He already had one of the biggest egos. You’re not sure if you could handle him if he was any more cocky. He’s already assuming you’ll drop your plans to do nothing to sit outside and watch him fly around on a broom. 

“Who’s George asking?” 

“Dunno. George!” His voice carries across the common room to where his twin is sitting Lee. 

The two look over at you and Fred. George immediately grins widely. 

“She say yes?” he yelled back.

Fred gives you a look before saying, “Course she did. Who’re you asking again?” 

George gets up and walks over to you and Fred, not wanting to yell across the common room. 

“Beatrice Haywood, Hufflepuff, sixth year, doesn’t give a rat’s ass about quidditch,” George says. “We figured you could explain what’s going on to them.” 

“Because I’m so knowledgeable about quidditch,” you snark.

You do know a fair bit about quidditch. How could you not with Gryffindor’s beaters and the regular match announcer as your closest friends? It was knowledge by association, proximity. Not by choice. 

“More than they do,” Fred says. “You’re coming.” 

You roll your eyes again and return to your book. But when the time came, you were walking down to the pitch with the boys. You sat between Beatrice and Oliver’s girlfriend, Gabrielle. As George predicted, you explained what was going on. More to Gabrielle than Beatrice. Thankfully, Oliver was running the Weasleys’ least favorite drills, meaning they had complained for hours on end about said drills and you actually knew what was going on. One of the more distracting parts of the practice was the group of fangirls who sat in the section behind you. Despite Fred’s denial of their existence, they were most certainly there for the twins and Harry Potter. 

After the practice ended, you waited for the twins outside the locker room with Gabrielle as she waited for Oliver. You made polite conversation with her, asking about how her classes were going and what she was looking to go into after Hogwarts. Just simple questions to ask a seventh year that you didn’t really know. Soon enough, the twins walk out. Fred throws a casual arm over your shoulder, which you immediately duck under.

“Get your sweaty arm off me,” you say mirthfully. Was his sweaty arm gross? Yes, but it wasn’t like you hadn’t hugged the twins when they were sweaty after a match before. 

“Oh, is my sweaty arm okay then?” George asks before putting his arm around your shoulders. 

Fred seizes the opportunity and returns his arm to your shoulders as well. You’re effectively trapped between the two. 

“Ugh, neither of your sweatinesses are appreciated!” you groan, causing both of them to laugh. 

They don’t remove their arms from you until you’re back inside the castle. The walk back to the common room is filled with them complaining about the drills Oliver made them do over and over again. 

“You know, if you did it correctly the first time, he wouldn’t have you do it ten times,” you say. 

“Oi, she thinks it’s easy,” George says.

“I’d love to see you try it.” 

“Ha,” you say dryly. “I will not be getting on that deathstick. No thank you.” 

“I think you need to give it a second chance. Use one of our brooms. It’ll be a step up from the shitty school brooms we used first year,” Fred says. 

“Madam Hooch said she passed me out of pity.”

“Ah, we’ll get you on a broom next time you come round the Burrow,” George says with some finality in his voice.

By then you’ve reached the Fat Lady and Fred gives her the password. You bid the boys good night and head to your dorm with the intent of showering to get their sweaty stench off of you. Alicia and Angelina are already in your dorm and doing homework when you walk in. They give you brief smiles before turning back to their work. Frankly, you’re a bit surprised that they didn’t ask about you being at practice, but you just assume that they are dead set on getting their homework done.

---

It didn’t take long for the first rumors to spread. 

“Oliver’s new girlfriend went to watch the Gryffindors’ practice. She was there, sitting with her. That probably means she’s dating one of them too.”

“I saw Fred Weasley talking to her.”

“I didn’t know they were dating.”

“Must be a new thing.”

You slam your books down on the table at lunch as you wink into your usual spot next to Fred. 

“The whispers, rumors, gossip. It’s driving me crazy, Fred. And it’s all your fault,” you say. 

“My fault?” 

“Insisting I go watch your little practice? Sit next to your captain’s girlfriend? All because being a friend who is a girl is, as you put it, close enough? Now it feels like half the school thinks we’re dating.” 

Fred just shrugs. “Let them. Who cares?”

You did. You care. Not that you’re overly sociable, but you want the freedom to flirt and be flirted with. You’re an honest person and it feels weird to not correct people that you aren’t dating Fred. His not caring attitude just feels off for the situation. But you try to brush it under the rug. You can be nonchalant about it, or at least that’s what you’re going to tell yourself. 

---

“Weasley!” Oliver calls, getting Fred’s attention as the ginger exits his last class of the day.

Fred nods to acknowledge Oliver before heading his way. 

“What’s up, capt?” 

“How would you feel about a double date?”

Fred raises his eyebrows in surprise. “A double date?” 

“Yeah, erm, Gabrielle really liked sitting with Y/N at practice. Was hoping the four of us could do something together. Hogsmeade, next weekend?”

“I’ll talk to Y/N about it…” 

“Brilliant. Gabs will be excited! You better get her to say yes, Weasley,” Oliver says before heading down the corridor. 

Fred runs a hand through his hair, partially worried about what Oliver has just roped him into. You were already feeling iffy about people thinking you two were a couple. But you would say yes, right? 

He heads to Charms, knowing it’s your last class of the day and won’t be too far. You’re chatting with Alicia when he finds you. Alicia excuses herself as soon as she spots Fred heading your way. He has a determined look on his face which she interprets as “incoming prank” and she didn’t want to be involved. 

“Hey, Y/N. How would you fancy going on a double date?”

“Have you suddenly gotten yourself a proper girlfriend? And found me a suitor at the same time?” you report.

“Hmm, well, no. It seems Gabrielle, Wood’s girl, you know,” he starts to say.

“I’m familiar,” you interrupt.

“She’s taken a liking to you. They want a double date. So, clear your schedule for next weekend.”

“So not only does the whole castle think we’re dating, but now we’re going on dates? Despite not dating?” 

“It’s one day, love. An afternoon, really. We’ll go, get drinks and chat and that’ll be all. Easy. No harm, no foul. You get free drinks and I keep my captain happy,” he says, trying to sell you on it. 

You narrow your eyes at Fred. “Fine. But you owe me.”

“Fantastic!” he says with a smile. “You’re the best, you know that/”

“I could stand to hear it more.”

“If you think about it, you’ll probably be hearing it all Saturday.”

“I will?”

“I mean, we’re leaning into this dating thing. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t remind you how great you are?”

You roll your eyes. “Probably a shite one. But still, you could remind me, as a friend, being that I do most of your Arithmancy homework.”

“I provide you with plenty of entertainment as compensation!”

“Entertainment you would provide either way.”

“How ‘bout this: I’ll buy you some chocolate frogs while we’re in Hogsmeade.”

You cross your arms with a satisfied look on your face. “Finally, proper payment.”

---

The walk to Hogsmeade on Saturday with Fred doesn’t feel like a date. It is just two close friends going to the wizarding village. Then you meet up with Oliver and Gabrille, who are holding hands and look very couple-y. It suddenly feels like you’re third wheeling, and Fred is also third wheeling, but that’s two third wheels and that’s not how things work. Gabrielle is nice and so is Oliver, but you still feel weird being here under the guise of having a relationship with Fred. 

You and Fred both cringe as the other two lead you toward Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop. It isn’t somewhere either of you would be caught dead in any other situation. You grab Fred’s arm as Oliver and Gabrielle enter without any qualms.

“You seriously owe me, Weasley,” you hiss before shoving him toward the door. 

The shop is far too warm, too cramped and too frilly for your liking. Oliver and Gabrielle appear to have no issues with practically sitting in each other’s laps, electing to focus on each other rather than the steaming cups of tea in front of them. You sit as close as you can to the fogged-up windows. Any extra space between you and Fred would be appreciated, but despite your best efforts, his knee bumps into yours every few seconds as you both shift uncomfortably. 

Everywhere you look inside the small shop, there are couples being overly affectionate. And that’s including across the table. That leaves you with two places to look: at Fred, who you’re afraid that if you look at him for too long, he might try something to further your dating ruse, or at your tea. You stare at your cup with its swirling steam. You assume it’s an enchanted brew, given the way the steam curls into hearts. 

“Tea really that interesting?” Fred asks you in a low voice, almost as if to not bring attention to you despite there being no way that Oliver or Gabrielle are looking away from each other any time soon. 

“Don’t think I’ve ever had enchanted tea, you know? Do you think it tastes funny? Or will it make this shop any less nauseating?” you reply, voice just as low. 

“Yeah, not my first choice either. I’m guessing her choice.”

You look at Fred to ensure that he sees you rolling your eyes. 

“Maybe he secretly loves lacy table runners. Have you considered that?”

“My boy loves one thing, Y/N. And it’s quidditch.”

“If he keeps at this like he is now, he’ll have two loves soon enough.”

“Then we’ll never win the Cup!” 

“Oh no,” you say in mock horror. “What ever will we do?” 

“What if I told you it was the same as suggesting you’ll never get an O in Transfiguration?”

You gasp loudly. “No! Take that back!” 

“And now you see how dire the situation is.”

“No, that’s not fair. I actually need to do well in that class for my career. The Quidditch Cup is just bragging rights.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Tell me, Fred. How is winning the Cup going to help you with your joke shop?” 

“Uh… Teamwork?” 

You laugh. “I think losing would teach you better teamwork. And a bit of resilience.”

“I can’t believe what I’m hearing,” Fred mutters while shaking his head.

“What? That joke product industry might be more cut-throat than you’re prepared for?”

“That you think we aren’t resilient!”

You scoff. “I know you are resilient. And there’s no one you work better with than George. You’ve already got those skills. Winning the Cup isn’t going to change that.”

“You’re ridiculous…”

“I have to agree with you on that.” 

About half an hour passes with you and Fed chatting like that while you periodically take sips of your tea. The tea doesn’t make sitting in the shop any easier as you had hoped. It’s the chatting with Fred that distracts you from the fact that Oliver and Gabrielle are essentially snogging across the table from you. When you finish your tea, you set your cup on its saucer with a sharp clink. That gets their attention.

“You ready to head out?” Fred asks them as they sheepishly separate. 

Their tea is completely untouched, yet they nod and get up. As the four of you walk around Hogsmeade, you plaster yourself to Fred’s side. Normally, you wouldn’t stand this close for so long. And normally, you wouldn’t entertain the way his hand continuously bumps into yours until he just grabs it. But you’re spending the afternoon with two people you don’t know all that well and the familiarity of Fred is necessary to get through the day. 

Fred and Oliver exchange excited looks as you come up on Spintwitches Sporting Needs.

“Do you ladies mind if we nip in for a look around?” Oliver asks.

You drop Fred’s hand and cross your arms.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll wait out here,” you say. 

“Me too” Gabrielle adds and the boys disappear into the shop with a tinkle of the door’s bell. “You and Fred are real cute together.”

“Thank you,” you choke out, certain it sounds like you’re being strangled. You, Fred and cute weren’t in a genuine statement often. 

“No, really, I mean it. You really work together.”

You shrug. “Probably because he’s my best friend.”

That makes her smile. And it’s the truth. Out of everyone at Hogwarts, you are closest with Fred, which is probably why you agreed to this charade. 

“Aw, that’s so sweet,” Gabrielle coos. “Your person should be your best friend. Oliver and I, well, we just started dating so I can’t say he’s my best friend just yet, but I think we’ll get there.”

You mentally will the boys to hurry up. Talking with Gabrielle isn’t bad. It’s the talking about your relationship with Fred. What you have with him is platonic and you really don’t want to think about “how good you work together” romantically. If you entertained that idea, being in a real romantic relationship with Fred, the consequences are all that you can think about. What would happen to your friend group? What if you broke up and it was messy? What would happen to your friends then? Nope. Fred is your best friend and that’s all he will be. 

You carefully direct the conversation to focus mainly on Gabrielle and her relationship with Oliver. You’re able to get by with not saying much about you and Fred. You try to not sigh a breath of relief when the boys walk out of the shop. 

Your next stop is Honeydukes. On the walk over, you grab Fred’s hand and give it a squeeze. Fred looks down at you with a soft look on his face, but you don’t see it. You’re too focused on getting to the sweets shop to get your promised chocolate frogs. Once inside, you’re practically dragging Fred from stand to stand. This is something he’s used to. The amount of time the twins and Lee can spend in Zonko’s is the only rival to the amount of time you’ll take to decide which sweets and how many of each you want. The amounts you spend respectively are also similar. 

After Honeydukes, Oliver and Gabrielle say they’re ready to head back, but you look at Fred and ask if he’d want to get butterbeers first. He nods and that’s where the double date ends. Despite no longer having to put on a show for Oliver and Gabrielle, you don’t let go of Fred’s hand until you’re sitting in the booth across from him. 

“Sorry, but I need something to get that tea’s flavor out of my mouth,” you say, reaching to grab a chocolate frog already.

“Oi, make sure some of those make it back to the castle!”

“I’m having one, Fred. Don’t get your knickers in a twist.” 

“And you’re thinking about my knickers? Disgusting.” 

You slap his hand that’s resting on the table and he gives you his trademark teasing grin. 

“Oh! You want to know something funny?” 

Fred gives you a look that says, ‘Really? Do you know who you’re talking to?’

“Right, of course you do,” you say flatly before continuing with more in your voice. “Gabrielle says we really work together. She called us cute.” 

Fred tilts his head in confusion. “And why is this funny?” 

“Because we’re not actually dating? It’s like, wow, shocker, two friends get along, totally weird, right?” 

“Ah.” 

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way, Fred. Just amusing to me how easily we pull off the couple look. That’s all.” 

“You’re the one who’s all worried about the castle assuming we’re dating.”

“And you’re the one adding fuel to their fire!” you exclaim before placing your head in your hands. “Oh my Merlin. I think we already bicker like a couple and this isn’t even us getting into it. Remember when you wanted to paint the Transfiguration room red and gold after you got an O on your essay?”

Fred laughs. “You wouldn’t talk to me for a week, even after I told you we weren’t going to do it.”

“It was the principle! I stand by what I did.” 

“Fucking spoke through Lee the entire time too. I think it would’ve been easier if you avoided me for the week rather than that.”

“Why?” you ask through a laugh.

“If you avoided me, you’d be avoiding George and Lee too. It wouldn’t’ve felt like it was just me, you know? But you spoke through Lee. You talked to George. It was so clearly me.” 

“Your dumb idea, your dumb punishment.” 

“So, when you say I really owe you for today…”

“It’s your price to pay. Not George’s and certainly not Lee’s.”

“Right. I figured as much.” 

After you finish your butterbeers, you walk back to the castle. You don’t think about why Fred puts his arm around your shoulders as you walk. It makes you feel a smidge warmer, which is nice since the sun’s gone down. Tired from socializing all day, you head straight to your dorm once you get back to the Gryffindor Common Room. 

You’re tired, but there’s assigned reading to get done so you recline on your bed with your Transfiguration book in front of you. You read about half the chapter when the door opens. Alicia, Angelina and Katie all come in. Katie’s got her school supplies with her so you assume it’s their Chaser Study TIme. 

“So…. Y/N, when were you going to tell us about you ‘n’ Fred?” Angelina asks as she gets her own homework out. 

“Yeah, since when did you start dating?” Alicia adds. 

“Don’t… know…” you say slowly, trying not to lose your spot. “Ask Fred.” 

You had been able to handle Gabrielle outside of the quidditch shop. You barely knew her and could parry her questions easily. These girls? After Fred, George and Lee, they are your next closest friends. You could talk about more girlier topics with them, stuff that you wouldn’t dream of talking about with the boys. 

“Seriously cute together, you know,” Alicia says. 

There’s that word again: cute.

Then she continues, “I knew you’d get with one of the twins. No way you’re that close for so long without doing one of them.”

Katie throws a pillow at her. “Don’t be so crude!”

“I’m just saying! They are fit!” She pointed at Angelina. “And it’s not just them! You remember their older brother – Charlie! Some of them Weasley genes are something else.”

Angelina snorts a laugh. “Some.”

“No, she has a point,” you say, closing your book. You know you’re not going to be able to read any more with these three in the room. “Fred, George, Charlie, dare I say Ron, they all have something that Percy seriously lacks.” 

The rest of the girls start giggling. 

“Looks, personality, charm. You name it!” Katie exclaims. 

After a few more jabs at Percy’s lack of charisma, Angelina turns to you again.

“But really, Y/N, we didn’t even know you had a crush on him. How did it happen?” 

“I… I guess I didn’t know I had a crush on him,” you say. You needed something believable. “He’s just always been my best friend. We’ve been close since first year and it… sorta just happened?” 

“Is he a good kisser?” Katie asks, leaning forward with curiosity.

You turn bright red and look away from the girls. “We, um, we haven’t kissed.”

The room is filled with a mix of gasps and shrieks.

“What do you mean you haven’t kissed?”

“Is that not how you became ‘more than friends’?” 

“I don’t believe you!” 

Their reactions are too much for you. You get off your bed and head for the door.

“I’ll be, uh, back…” you say hurriedly. 

Once the door is closed behind you, you take a deep breath. So you haven’t kissed Fred. You aren’t actually dating. You didn’t need to kiss him. Part of you, however, is wondering if maybe you should’ve lied to the girls, just said that he is a good kisser. Another part of you is wondering what he’s told his friends, what he’s told George and Lee because surely they’ve heard the rumors and knew that you were going on a double date today. Maybe they knew it was all fake – that would make you feel better if they did. 

The common room is empty. You relish the quiet atmosphere as you take a seat in front of the couch on the floor in front of the fireplace. It isn’t too big or providing much warmth, dwindling down to just embers. But it’s something to look at as you think. 

‘Let them,’ Fred had said. ‘We’re leaning into this dating thing.’ 

Right, ignore what people think. It’s your friendship with Fred. That shouldn’t be a spectacle for the whole castle. Even if it seems like Fred likes being the center of gossip.  

---

You’re not sure what possesses you on Monday, but when the twins and the rest of the quidditch team start to head to the pitch, you’re right along with them. Once Fred gets over the momentary shock of seeing you walking with them, he slings his arm around your shoulder like it was something he did every day. After having his arm around you on Saturday, it doesn’t feel so foreign. His arm stays around you until you reach the locker rooms at the pitch. 

“I’ll see you after practice,” you say, turning toward the stand.

Fred watches you until you disappear up the stairs. George and Harry had gone into the locker room without him. George gives Fred a curious look when he does join them, to which Fred just shakes his head in response. If George wanted to ask him about you, it could wait until after practice. 

You take a seat next to Gabrielle, where you had sat at the previous practice. Only this time, it’s just the two of you, no Beatrice. Even with Oliver as her boyfriend, you are still explaining most of the practice to her. You think it’s a fair assumption that she likes you because you explain quidditch in simple terms, leaving out the effects of tailwind on velocity and how much the quaffle should spin if you’re doing a drop pass. 

Your presence next to Grabrielle at practices quickly became commonplace. You both skipped out on Wednesday’s morning practice, but you were back for Thursday and Friday’s practices. Those next two practices, you walked down with Fred’s arm around you. If the rest of the team didn’t believe the dating rumors before, they certainly did now. 

After Friday’s practice, you work on your homework in the common room. There’s a match tomorrow against Hufflepuff and everyone’s been talking about how it’ll be an easy win. That means you need to get your homework done ahead of time because while you can work through your friends’ prank planning, you can’t work through a party. Lee’s sitting next to you as you work. He has his Potions essay in front of him, but with the way his head is propped up on his hand, it’s clear that he’s not working. 

George is the next to join you. Freshly showered and his own essay for Snape in hand, he plops down in the seat next to Lee, leaving one more spot at the table to your right. For Fred, you thought. But Fred doesn’t come down anytime soon after George. You hate that you’re distracted by waiting for him to appear. Instead of working on your Transfiguration assignment, your eyes keep drifting to the boys’ staircase. 

“Snape wants… how many inches again?” George groans, letting the top half of his parchment curl over itself. 

“Two feet,” Lee says. He had managed to get a little bit done with George working on the same assignment. “I’m like six inches short.”

“Ditto… Swap?” 

“Swap.”

You roll your eyes as the boys lean closer together to read each other’s essay in hopes the other has information they can use to fill the last bits of space on their parchment. You’re not judging them. You’ve done the same thing with them before. That’s why you know that it’s more beneficial for them to swap with you than each other. The three boys’ essays always read fairly similar while yours have different points. 

You’re working slower than molasses, trying to finish this one assignment before you give up. Your endless peaks toward the stairs aren’t helping. 

Then he appears. His hair is dryer than when George came down, so you can assume that he hung around his dorm for a while before deciding to grace the common room with his presence. Only when he walks toward your table, you notice that he’s not carrying homework. He’s carrying a red fabric. He sets it in front of you before taking the open seat next to you.

“What’s this?” you ask, picking it up and letting it unfurl.

It was a quidditch jersey. With Weasley and 2 across the back. 

“Girlfriends wear their boyfriend’s jersey to matches,” he says nonchalantly with a smirk. 

You lean closer to him and whisper, “Are we still doing this?”

His smirk turns into a mischievous grin. “Might as well. It’s fun, isn’t it?”

“Don’t push your luck, Weasley,” you snap, sitting up straighter. 

You quickly gather your things, including the crimson jersey, and head to your dorm. It is fun being with Fred, even if it’s just pretend. Because, well, it’s Fred. Fun is practically synonymous with him. 

That doesn’t mean that you don’t feel odd as you stare at your reflection in the morning, wearing Fred’s extra jersey and jeans. You look positively like a girlfriend. You think about everyone who’s called you and Fred cute. Do you look like his girlfriend? You turn around and then look over your shoulder to see the letters spelling his last name sprawling across your back. 

It’s a shame that your roommates are all on the team and had to be at the field early. There’s no one to tell you that you look okay, that it’s normal for a girlfriend, albeit fake, to wear her boyfriend’s jersey. That it was cute that he gave it to you without you asking. There’s no one here to pull you out of your dorm. You have to go on your own accord. Which you do. Eventually. After talking yourself up in the mirror for a few more minutes. 

The all-consuming out-of-place feeling you have remains as you make your way to the pitch. You can feel eyes on you, on the jersey, reading your back as you pass by. 

W-E-A-S-L-E-Y

You’re branded as his. And you find that you don’t think you would mind it if it wasn’t fake. 

The eyes remain as you find a spot in the stands. You swear you see Ron and Hermione whispering to each other when you pass them. You wonder what Ron thinks about seeing his last name across your back. Why did you care what he thought? 

Then Gabrielle finds you. You feel the weight of feeling out of place lift off of you. She’s wearing Oliver’s jersey. Even if they are a real couple, it’s nice to not be the only one in someone’s jersey. And then you realize why Fred gave you his jersey – Oliver must have mentioned that he was giving his to Gabrielle to wear. First it was practices, then the double date, and now game days. This was for Oliver and Gabrielle. 

Even if that is what this is, you can’t deny the look on Fred’s face when he spots you. You swore you saw him scanning the crowd, looking for you. And when he finds you, he gets the brightest smile you’ve seen from him in a while. Then there’s a yell from Oliver to get into position and Fred’s game face takes over. 

Fred plays better than you’ve ever seen. He’s everywhere and all of his hits are going exactly where he wants them to. And he still has the time to look your way. Sure, he’s looked your way during a match before, but this felt different. You know it’s because he’s pretending to be your boyfriend. The looks aren’t as platonic, if that’s possible. It’s strange that he can make miniscule changes in his expression to convey a deeper meaning that you understand from across the pitch. 

Just as predicted, Hufflepuff doesn’t stand a chance. The score is heavily in Gryffindor’s favor when Harry catches the snitch. You join the rest of the Gryffindors in storming the pitch to congratulate the team. You feel yourself being shoved toward Fred, who picks you up in a bone-crushing hug to spin you around. You let out a giddy laugh that Fred mirrors. Like usual at this point, when he sets you back down, his arm is left slung over your shoulder and your arm is loosely around his waist. Once again, you feel that if anyone was still doubting the status of your relationship with Fred, they wouldn’t now. 

You remain at Fred’s side as he talks with everyone congratulating him on the win. He’s basking in the attention and you can’t help but smile up at him. It’s nice to see your best friend so happy. You miss the knowing look that George gives Fred after seeing you like that. 

Under Fred’s arm you stay until the pitch empties out and the team starts disappearing into the locker room to put away their things before returning to the common room. 

“I’ll see you up there, love,” Fred says softly as he lets go of you.

You smile and wave to him. Just like that Monday practice, Fred watches you walk away until you’re out of sight before going into the locker room. He smiles to himself. He doesn’t even care that George sees him looking like a fool. 

You’ve chosen one of the arm chairs by the fire to sit in while you wait for the team. Can’t really have a party to celebrate their win without them. You’re just observing the other Gryffindors when you feel a hand on your shoulder.

“You must be good for him,” Percy says. “Never seen Fred play that well.”

You’re not sure if Percy’s ever actually spoken to you before, besides the occasional side note of telling you to try to keep your friends out of trouble. Like you could control them. 

“Thank you?” you say, it sounding more like a question than anything. 

He nods and walks away. Okay, weird encounter. You shake your head and turn to people-watching. 

A roar of cheers announces the team’s arrival with Oliver and Harry leading the bunch. Anyone who hadn’t gotten the chance to congratulate them on the pitch is crowding them now, clapping hands on their shoulders and backs. Somehow, through the masses, Fred spots you and makes his way toward your chair. You suddenly realize that you haven’t congratulated him yet. 

“You played really well,” you say, grinning up at him.

“I know,” he replies casually, sitting down on the couch right next to you. “Come ‘ere. Let George or Lee sit there.”

You roll your eyes but get up anyway. He grabs your waist and pulls you into his lap. You hadn’t realized that’s what he meant by “Come here.” His lap. You’d sat next to Fred during post-quidditch parties before, but never in his lap. This is new territory that you’re unable to leave because Fred’s got his arm anchored around your waist. 

When George and Lee make their way to the armchair and couch, they are both carrying two drinks. Lee hands one to you and George hands the other to Fred. 

“Thank you very much,” Fred says, enunciating each word. 

“So, Y/N, what have you been doing to him?” Lee asks.

You give him a pointed yet confused look.

“Fred’s accuracy has never been that good.”

You lean forward as much as you can with Fred’s arm holding you in place. 

“What if I told you I tampered with the bludgers?”

“Only to respond to Fred’s bat then? Georgie’s aim could’ve been better.”

“Oi!” George exclaims, looking insulted.

“He’s not wrong,” Fred says with a laugh. 

That was the joke that kept coming back for the rest of the day as your quartet lounged around. The rest of the common room was filled with louder conversation and music. Drinks were passed around and refilled. Someone at some point went to get snacks for everyone. It wasn’t the wildest party Gryffindor’s thrown but it was good. It felt nice to just sit and be held by Fred. 

And then an up-beat, high-tempo song comes. It gets the attention of several people and suddenly, the area behind the couch is filled with people dancing. 

You lean backwards to whisper into Fred’s ear, “Care to dance?” 

He nods and loosens his grip on your waist, allowing you to get up. You grab his head and lead him to where the dancing is happening. You don’t think about what you’re doing. All you know is that the music is very danceable. It’s easy to match the energy of the people around you. And it’s even easier when Fred’s hands find your hips to hold your body closer to his, moving in sync. 

For half a second, you want to take a step backwards and say, ‘Leave room for Merlin’ with a laugh. But you remember that you’re still leaning into the dating rumors. You let Fred continue to move your body, even if it made your heart pound in a way you didn’t want to think about. Song after song, you’re up against Fred. You’ve never been this close to him, never been able to feel his body, his muscles like this, never been able to smell his cologne this strongly. (Why they showered in the locker rooms after games and not practices is lost on you.)

Eventually, you tire and drag Fred back to the couch. Lee and George have disappeared elsewhere so it’s just you and him. And a few other Gryffindors but you weren’t talking to them. He sits down first and pulls you back into his lap, resuming how you were before you got up to dance. 

“You’re still in my jersey,” Fred mutters as his fingers play with the hem of it.

“I didn’t know if I should’ve changed after the game.”

“You decided correctly.”

“Gabrielle still wearing Oliver’s?”

“I’d assume so… Although I haven’t seen them in a while so she might not be anymore…” His voice trails off as he waggles his eyes.

“Oh my Godric! You did not need to go there!” 

He laughs. “But you know it’s true.”

“And you know I didn’t need to think about Oliver naked.” 

“Are you thinking about…” A mischievous glint sparkles in Fred’s eyes. “Wood’s wood?”

You slap his shoulder, which only makes him laugh louder. 

“You are disgusting, Fred Weasley.” 

“Maybe I just wanted to see you blush,” he says teasingly. 

It’s then that you realize his comment did make you blush. You hide your face in his shoulder. The arm that’s wrapped around you gives you a little squeeze. 

“Ah, come on, love. I’m just teasin’. You know that.” 

“I do,” you mumble into his shoulder. “I just don’t talk about people’s… wood with you guys.” 

Now Fred’s desperately trying to get your face out of his shoulder, moving it backwards and using his other hand to create space between your cheek and his shoulder.

“Are you saying you discuss that with not guys?” he asks with a cheeky grin. 

Your blush deepens to match the jersey you’re wearing. 

“Oh my Merlin, you do!” 

You groan loudly and attempt to hide your face again, but Fred doesn’t let you.

“Tell me, does mine come up?” 

Despite his grip on you, you rip yourself off of his lap. You did not need to tell Fred that, yes, you and your roommates had discussed what you thought each guy in your year was packing. Those were conversations that are better left in the confines of your dorm. You decide that that’s enough for the night. You’ve danced, drank and chatted. You can go to bed without anyone calling you a party pooper. 

But then Fred’s arm is around your waist again and he’s directing you to the boys’ stairs rather than the girls’.

“Weasley,” you warn quietly. 

A quick glance over your shoulder has you seeing George, Lee and their other roommate, Kenneth. Still, Fred continues to push you up the stairs and into their dorm. Your mind is spinning. What was he expecting?

He closes the door behind you and then lays down on his bed. His eyes flutter closed. You stand by the door, unmoving for a minute.

“You going to stand there all night?” he asks, not opening his eyes. 

“I… I hope you’re not… ah, expecting anything?” 

He pats the area on his bed next to him. You reluctantly sit on the edge of the bed near where he patted. You’re sitting too far away for Fred’s liking. You’d laid on his bed before. It was always his bed you laid on when the four of you hung out in their dorm. Kenneth was often banished the moment you showed up. 

“Y/N, I’m going to jump or anything,” Fred says, peeking through his eyelids to see you sitting just within arms reach. “If that’s what you’re thinking… Because of what I said downstairs…”

“Yeah…” you murmur.

Then you move more onto his bed and recline slowly. You’re both laying on your backs, shoulder to shoulder. Fred’s got his hands behind his head and you’re hugging yourself. 

After a few minutes of silence, you ask, “So why couldn’t I go to my dorm?” 

“Wasn’t done hanging out with you.” 

You snort a laugh. “Right.”

“I made a dumb comment, yeah? And then you go hide away for the rest of the night? Nah.”

“Nah,” you echo softly. “So you figure that you’ll drag me up here to what?” 

He hums. “This.”

“Stare at your canopy?”

“I guess.” He pauses before adding, “Anything really. ‘S my job to keep you from hiding in your dorm all night.”

“It’s a perfectly reasonable time to go to bed!” 

“You’d be doing homework! Reading your Transfiguration book or something.”

“And this is so much better?” 

“Yes.” 

Silence falls between you again, but it isn’t awkward or uncomfortable. Thank goodness Fred’s your best friend or you’re certain it would be uncomfortable to lay next to him like this. There’s a question that you keep turning over in your mind that you can’t bring yourself to ask. You want to know how long Fred plans on pretending to be your boyfriend. Should you be pretend-breaking it off soon so that your friend group can stay intact without being weird? Do George and Lee know it’s fake? Lee didn’t appear to know it was, but maybe he was acting earlier. But as you lay next to Fred, now doesn’t feel like the right time to ask him. 

When his breathing evens out to shallow breaths, you look over at him. He is most definitely sleeping. You smile at his peaceful form. Then you get up and quietly leave his dorm. You’re not sure what time it is, but you’re trying to be sneaky. You are leaving the boys’ dorms after a party and that could start some more rumors if you aren’t careful. You think you’ve successfully switched from the boys’ stairs to the girls’ when a hand grabs your bicep. 

“Y/N.” 

George. 

You turn and give him a polite smile. 

“Um, you know you could’ve spent the night,” he says rather sheepishly. “Me and Lee, we don’t mind. And Towler can deal.” 

So maybe George doesn’t know it was fake. 

“Thanks, George, but I think it’s too soon to be spending the night,” you say. 

He nods and lets go of your arm, like he didn’t realize he was still holding onto it. You head up the rest of the stairs. Maybe you should ask Fred at some point what he did tell George and Lee about this faux relationship. 

---

You never can ask him. You can’t bring yourself to ask Fred when this is going to end, how it’s going to end and what did he tell your friends. The moment never feels right. 

It doesn’t help that pretending to be Fred’s girlfriend gets easier with each passing day. It’s just like being best friends, but on overdrive. There are also more times when Fred leaves George and Lee behind to find you, to hang out with you. He’s even gone to the library to study with you when you needed extra books for an assignment. 

The one thing that might have had people second guessing your relationship was a lack of public kissing. There was the occasional kiss pressed to your hairline or your forehead or your cheek, but that was it. The top of the head kisses weren’t new. Fred and George had given you those over the years as you helped with pranks or various homework assignments. But the first time Fred kissed your cheek, it left you more flustered than you would ever admit. It was the most genuine affection you had ever received from a boy. It wasn’t followed by an off-hand ‘you’re the best.’ No. The kiss had been placed on your cheek right before Fred left breakfast early, having forgotten his homework in his dorm. It was a goodbye kiss that you hadn’t been expecting. A goodbye kiss that had you hiding behind your mug for the rest of breakfast, willing your blush to disappear. 

You went to Hogsmeade with Fred, George and Lee. They went into Zonko’s, leaving you to either follow them around for at least an hour in that shop or go off on your own for a bit. You chose the latter, not caring to look over the same products that they would spend another hour in their dorm later showing you. You wander around for a little bit before going into Spintwitches. You’re not exactly sure why, but you were drawn inside. You look around, thinking about how Fred really had been performing better this term.

You stop in front of the beater section of the store. In the middle of the display is a new bat that you’ve heard Fred talk about for months. He even wrote about it in his letters to you over the summer. Something about it having better grip and a special weight distribution to help with aim. You’re not really sure what made it all that special, but you’re sure that Fred wants it. You barely glance at the cost before telling the shopkeep that you’d like to buy it. 

You claim a booth in the Three Broomsticks and wait for the boys. Meeting them there after their Zonko’s visit was the usual plan and sure enough, after fifteen minutes or so, they appear. 

“Got you somethin’,” you say casually as Fred slides onto the bench next to you. 

His eyes go wide as you place the box in front of him. George has an identical look on his face, staring at the box.

“Y/N… you shouldn’t have…” 

“You’ve been eyeing it for months. Plus, isn’t this what girlfriends do? Spoil our boyfriends?” you say with a teasing lilt. 

Fred pulls you into a tight hug and whispers, “Leaning into it now, are you?”

“Mhmm,” you hum. “Now, you really owe me.”

Fred chuckles as he pulls back.

“No, really, Y/N, thank you.” 

“Wait, where’s mine?” George asks. “I want a new bat!”

“Get a girlfriend, then mate,” Lee laughs.

For the rest of the time that you’re in Hogsmeade, Fred keeps stealing glances at you. You don’t notice, nor do you notice the way that when he does look at you, it’s with the softest look, full of adoration. 

In your head, you know that Fred doesn’t owe you. If he was your real boyfriend, you would’ve bought the bat for him without a second thought. You would’ve suffered through as many Madam Puddifoot’s dates with Oliver and Gabrielle as he needed you to. You would spend the night in his dorm, rather than leave when he falls asleep. You would do anything for him. 

---

It’s about halfway through December when something changes. 

“Y/N!” Fred calls from across the corridor. He didn’t have a class last period and it looks like he’s been waiting for you. He jogs up to you. “Mum wants to know when you’ll be joining us at the Burrow.”

You look taken aback. You shake your head briefly to shake the confused look from your features.

“I didn’t know I was coming to the Burrow?”

“You’re my girlfriend. Of course you’re coming to the Burrow,” he says like it’s common knowledge. 

You grab his arm and pull into the nearest alcove, away from the students now filling the corridor. 

“Fake girlfriend. I didn’t know that this extended past the wall of Hogwarts?” 

Fred runs an anxious hand through his hair. “Well, I mean, Ginny’s written to Mum about you. I think Perc has mentioned you too.. You have to come. I think Mum would murder me if I broke up with you right before Christmas.” 

“Merlin, Fred!” you sigh exasperated, throwing your head back and reaching to run a hand through your own hair. 

“Did it get a bit out of hand? Yes. But… I mean… I’m not complaining.”

“You got a happy captain and a new bat. You have no reason to complain.” 

He huffs a laugh. “I have one reason to complain.”

“Really?” you say disbelievingly. 

You cross your arms and give Fred an expectant look.

“Yes, a happy captain is good and the new bat was a widely unexpected plus. But spending time with you and seeing you in my jersey? Fuck Y/N…” He paused momentarily, giving you the brief impression that spending time with you was his complaint. “My complaint is that you keep saying this is fake.” 

Your expression immediately scrunches into something resembling confusion. 

“Because it is? You said I’m your friend who is a girl. You called this fun.” You try to take in Fred’s unreadable expression. “Isn’t that all it’s been? Just fun to mess with people for believing a rumor? And to make Oliver happy?”

“That’s… That’s certainly how it started.”

A beat passes.

“And now?” you ask. 

“I don’t think I can go back to being just friends.”

Oh. 

“This… more than friends… I want it. I want it with you.”

Oh.

He stares into your eyes for a few seconds, searching for something, some kind of reaction beyond shock. Then he leans in quickly. The kiss is soft, gentle and barely there. But it happened. His lips touched yours and now you’re breathless. 

He takes a step back and presses his lips together for a moment. He’s still watching you. 

“Y/N… please say something,” he whispers.

Right, words. You need to say those. You open your mouth but all that comes out is a squeak. 

“Is… Is that a good noise? Bad noise? Should I be running? Groveling? Going to tell George and Lee I just ruined our group?”

“Burrow,” you manage to say.

You want to disappear on the spot. That’s the word you went with? Your brain must’ve short circuited because that didn’t answer a single one of Fred’s flurry of questions. Except he seems to understand what you meant as he sighs with a small smile playing at his lips. 

“Mum’s not expecting you to stay for the whole time. Honestly, I think she’d love to have you for one day. I’d like to have you there for a few days, but I know I kinda sprung this on you and you probably already have plans with your family.”

You nod. You don’t trust yourself to speak just yet. Not when your last attempt ended up with you saying ‘Burrow.’ Fred watches intently as you walk deeper into the alcove and sit down beneath the window. He cautiously sits next to you, unsure of what else to do. 

“How long?” you ask quietly.

“As long as you want to stay. Mum loves hosting people.”

You shake your head and take a deep breath.

“When did it stop being fake for you?” you ask, clarifying your previous question.

“Oh…” he says with a sharp breath. “When you started regularly coming to practice. 

That wasn’t long after this whole thing started, you realize. It was before he even gave you his jersey. Before you randomly gifted him a new beater’s bat. So this whole semester that you’ve been having to remind yourself that it’s fake, he’s been having to do the same thing?

“Love, can you say something?” he asks, his voice shaky and unsure. “Where do we stand?” 

“I… I kept saying it was fake to remind myself that it was, that we were doing this for fun.”

Fred waits a moment for you to say more, but when you don’t, he asks again, “So where do we stand?”

“You don’t need to tell George and Lee that you ruined the friend group. As long as you don’t break my heart.” 

tags: @navs-bhat

[fairyofspringdays]

Harry: What is your type then?

Ron: Hm, let's see... sweet, but like, unintentionally. Emotionally constipated. Cute smile. Great at defense and shows love through actions and gifts rather than words. Also very oblivious when it comes to people being attracted to him.

Harry: Haha, that sounds like me! Too bad I'm not a girl.

Ron: Did I mention oblivious?

[beerose12]

*scurries up to you and drops the harry potter meme redraws at your feet*

*scurries back into the art void until who knows when*

[ravensincowboyhats]

Garry you will always be The Example for me <3

[yourlocalbadgerscales]

James Potter not being able to hide his bewilderment when he sees that baby Harry has inherited his mother’s green eyes… James Potter skipping around the house, his and Sirius’s voices draining each other as they stand together looking down at the new member of the Potter family sleeping tightly, their eyes shining and mouths running….

James Potter, who never lived long enough to learn that Harry also inherited his mother’s sarcasm, her humour…

Harry James Potter, who inherited Lily’s gaze, that look in his eyes… like he was older than his age… Harry Potter, who inherited Lily’s desperate need to prove herself, Lily’s posture, the way Lily wrote her g’s… Harry, who inherited not only traits from his mother, but also traits from his father.

Harry with his father’s messy hair, Harry who bounces his leg when he’s stressed and ruffles his hair when he’s nervous, unlike his father who ruffled it to impress girls. Harry with a glimpse of his father’s mischievousness in his Lily eyes. Harry who talks in his sleep like his father, Harry with dimples like his father, Harry with poor eyesight like his father.

It’s all a mess of Lily (can’t function properly under stress), James (showers in cold water)… and Harry himself (short temper). Because if it’s something so many people seem to forget about him, which always pisses him off, is that Harry is his own person too.

He loves Treacle Tart, he has his own awkward little laugh, he can’t control his face, he bites his nails when studying, he loves strong smells, and that’s all him. Just… him.

And what Sirius never got to tell him, is that: if people would try to look past the way his parents are still with him in his eyes, behind his smile and in his heart… they would see a wonderful young boy. So much more than what his parents ever made him. Harry raised himself. Harry grew up to be his own.

But Sirius never got to tell him that, just like he never got to tell him that he had Remus’s awkward flush, Sirius’s shit-eating grin, Dorcas’s frustrated resting face, Regulus’s unbothered expression when he was locked into his own little shell… traits that were Mary’s, Marlene’s, James’s, Lily’s, and most importantly Harry’s own.

Sirius never even learnt if these were things Harry would have liked to hear.

[conangray-hp-fest]

IS ANYONE ELSE AS EXCITED AS WE ARE????

A new single next week? Now we'll have even MORE inspo for fics for the fest!!! (Sign up link on our pinned post!)

[crescentofthegods]

BEFUDDLING CONFUSION!

pairing: fred weasley x muggleborn!fem!reader

request: returning to your dorm, you are thoroughly surprised to see a rather pretty ginger girl sitting at your vanity…

word count: 2,378

warnings: FLUFF, gender swapped!fred, reader is muggleborn just bc, reader is into girls, literally just pure fluff, swear words here and there, unfortunately not proofread.....

author’s note: SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG ANON i dont actually write for fred or george, but this request is really funny so i answered it😭 hope you like it!! (I FEEL LIKE THIS IS REALLY BAD HELP)

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DAMNED ANCIENT RUNES… The one subject you absolutely adored, but it aggravated you to an extreme at the same time. How could something be so interesting, yet so carefully complicated at the same time? Mumbling to yourself, wading between a couple of first years, you forcefully climb the many stairs of Gryffindor Tower, eager for your bed to embrace your exhausted soul. The Great Library had been your temporary home for the entirety of the weekend since you wanted to perfect your memorisation of different runic numbers—a simple list that any third year beginning this subject would know, but you just wanted to be completely sure. Being in your seventh year made you paranoid about… well; everything. You needed these NEWTs. The last thing you wanted was to fail, especially with everything that was going on…

            “Ugh…” you groaned, entering your dorm with a sigh—carelessly, you tossed your textbooks onto the wooden floorboards that carried your feet, eager to get away from them for a good few hours. Your boyfriend, Freddie, promised to meet you here since your roommate, Angelina, was having a sleepover with someone else; the thought of Fred made you smile like some lovesick idiot.

            You were a lovesick idiot. Fred… he treated you so well. A proper gentleman who towered over you, following you like a lost puppy as George tagged along behind him, the poor bloke. He was always touching you in some sort of way, having a need to hold you, whether it was just having your hand in his or sitting in his lap when you were with your friends—

            He was so sweet. Not to mention funny.

            Of course he was funny.

            “You’re back!” A girlish voice brought you back to reality as you shrugged off your robes, yearning for your pajamas instead—whilst the voice was not even remotely similar to the Chaser you liked to call your friend, you decided that it couldn’t belong to anyone else, right?

            “Yeah,” you lamented, still not looking towards Angelina, stretching your arms as you yawned. “I wasn’t built for fucking academics,” your grumble caused your roommate to giggle, your eyebrows furrowing as you whipped around, properly peering into your dorm. Shutting the door behind you by pressing your back against the oak, you slowly made your way towards your vanity, where the voice was coming from.

            Angelina didn’t… giggle. At least, not with you. With George? Definitely.

            Not with you.

            Naturally, you sensed danger. You’ve participated in a fair share of fights over the years, especially with the Slytherins and their stupid name calling—you tried to not let their taunting get to you, but it truly is hard as a Muggleborn. Anyhow, you weren’t going to take your chances; honestly, it would not surprise you at all if a Slytherin had somehow got into Gryffindor House just to play a silly prank on you—

            “Oh, love, why are your fists clenched?” the teasing voice spoke again, and you finally met the eyes that belonged to it; eyes widening in astoundment, you realised you did not recognise this girl at all. Yet, she wore the infamous red-and-gold striped tie around the collar of her shirt, which was slightly oversized for her form. What was even weirder was how she wore trousers instead of a skirt—you didn’t think girls would be allowed to wear regular trousers at Hogwarts. Her lovely, fiery locks were styled like a sort of messy pixie cut, tucked behind her ears, revealing her rather pretty countenance—light brown eyes paired with a roman nose and soft, thin lips… She looked so familiar, yet so unidentifiable.

            “What—Who are you calling ‘love’?” you questioned, clearly caught off guard by the whole situation; you weren’t sure what to say or even do. This wasn’t Ginny, your boyfriend’s little sister, and, either way, gingers stand out quite a lot. Who was this girl?

            Sitting at your vanity, she simply laughed in response, the domestic giggles birthing rather large butterflies in your stomach—what the fuck? You were attracted to girls, of course, but you were dating Fred—you were in love with Fred Weasley. And now, this random girl, whatever she was, was… trying to flirt with you? After breaking and entering your dorm?

            “Stop laughing! Who—Who in Godric’s name are you?” you asked, your fingers curling around your wand that had been hidden in your sock this entire time. The girl (as lovely as she sounded) continued to cackle, clutching her chest as if she was struggling to breathe—what was so funny? “This is serious, y’know? I’ll get Professor McGonagall right now—” That seemed to shut her up immediately, the darling ginger shooting up from her seat as her expression crumpled into one of panic.

            “Oh, God, please don’t, sweetheart—I can’t do another week of detention where I dust her bloody shelves,” she explained, but you couldn’t focus on her words—not when she was towering over you with her tall stature; you hadn’t notice how… vertically big she was when she had been sitting. Almost six feet and two inches, you gathered, your lips parting in slight bewilderment since you were forced to lift your gaze, not even bothered that her large, but dainty hands were gently grasping your biceps, her thumbs rubbing circles against your clothed flesh as you just stood there, trying not to seem so hot and bothered.

            She really was pretty, the girl. You didn’t know what it was… Perhaps it was the accustomed way she had laughed and smiled at you. Or the way her expression had fallen so comically—something that you recognised. And, the way she called you sweetheart; only one person called you that. Your boyfriend. Evidently, you didn’t like when others used pet names for you… only your boyfriend could do that.

            Your boyfriend. Fred…

            “Oh my God!” you exclaimed, shoving the ‘girl’ away, your expression painted with befuddling confusion as you gasped, your wand clattering towards the floor. “FREDRICK GIDEON WEASLEY—”

            “Okay, calm down—”

            “No! What if one of the teachers caught you sneaking up here?! Do you have a death wish?—WHY ARE YOU A GIRL—?!”

            “Darling—” Fred puffed, one of her his hands slapping over your mouth so he could speak, your exclamations muffled by the warmth of his palm. “Let me explain… It’s not that bad!”

            It is that bad! Was what you wanted to say, but your voice was stifled yet again, producing a picturesque scowl upon your face. He smiled—he adored your fiery nature. You were both alike, in that sense. He adored the way that you still fussed over his safety whilst also being furious with him. It was quite amusing, actually.

            “It isn’t,” he replied to your mumble, his feminine voice soft—he never got loud with you. He was the calm boyfriend whenever you both ‘argued’ (you actually don’t have fights, you yell and he listens like the good boyfriend he is). They were usually over something silly, the arguments. Like when he spends too much on flowers even though you’d be perfectly okay with the daisies that grew outside the Quidditch Grounds. He liked being extra, your blasted boyfriend.

            And, unfortunately, that was a quality of his that you adored—how perfect he was when it came to your relationship.

            “Let me explain, please?” he jokingly pouted—whilst you were a little mad at the whole situation, you weren’t exactly complaining. Fred looked beyond beautiful as a girl, so much so that his pout only made your heart melt inside.

            “…Fine. What did you both do?” He furrowed his eyebrows at that.

            “Both?”

            “You and George, silly,” you retorted, crossing your arms—your boyfriend’s hands fell to your waist, his thumbs still tracing circles across the hem of your untucked shirt (you were still baffled that he could talk whilst doing the very same ministrations that got you flustered every damned day).

            “Well… why are you assuming that we did something? It could’ve just been a freak accident,” he wiggled his thick eyebrows whilst that grin you fell in love with plastered his lips, gazing at you with that roguish look in his milk chocolate eyes.

            “It’s never a bloody accident with you two,” you sighed, your usual, soft smile finally stroking your lips—you could never be wholly angry with him. “Go on, tell me.”

“YOU KNOW… THIS IS DEFINITELY the most complicated potion we’ve brewed,” George mumbled in concentration, swirling the bubbling, blue liquid that filled the twins’ cauldron with a regular stirring stick, Fred’s impatient hum heard in response.

            “Just wish it didn’t take forever to bloody make it,” he grumbled, but his sour frown cosmically warped into a wide grin when he saw that the glop had stopped bubbling—usually, it was a sign that the potion was complete… George, however, wasn’t entirely sure.

            “That doesn’t seem right,” it was George’s turn to frown, the ginger turning his head to find the instruction book he was following (stolen from the Restricted Section of the library, of course). Fred completely ignored his twin brother’s confused mumbles, simply inspecting how the solution had darkened, creating a shade of turquoise. Shrugging like it was nothing to worry about, the older brother retrieved a vial from his potion-making kit as George spoke again.

            “Fuck’s sake,” George groaned, scratching his head as he chucked the rather thick tome onto his desk, turning around to glance at the cauldron. “It’s supposed to be purple—FRED!”

            Completely unbeknownst to George, Fred had downed a single vial of the rich secretion, watching with his mouth slack open as his brother burped, grimacing whilst glancing at the younger twin.

            “Tastes like shit,” but George didn’t care about the taste.

            “You’re actually such a moronic piece of—I didn’t make the potion right!” exclaimed George, examining Fred’s form since he was worried that the latter would transform into something… odd. The other’s expression crumbled, feeling completely fine as he stared at his body—nothing was wrong. Not yet, anyway…

            “I feel fine, Georgie—and, anyway, this is a good thing! You know we have to test every single one of our creations, even if we already know they’re not going to work.” The younger couldn’t really argue with that, running a hand through his short, ginger locks, his light brown eyes (that matched Fred’s to the T, of course) locked on Fred.

            “We’re only good at those stupid love potions, you know that,” George breathlessly chuckled, deciding to turn his head away for only a moment, just to check the book to see what he’d missed. They were both stupendous when it came to concoctions in general, but they wanted to give it a good go before asking Fred’s girlfriend, you, since you’d most likely say no, regardless.

            “Well, yeah, but—eurgh,” Fred pulled a face of disgust, clutching his stomach as he doubled down, his eyebrows furrowing as his vision grew clouded; something was wrong. But George, the clueless don, was too busy flicking through the pages of his embezzled book. “George—”

            “This is so odd. I don’t really get what I did wrong…” George respired to himself, unaware of his brother’s… changing self. “Oh, for the love of Merlin—I didn’t add enough fluxweed. Wait, so, what the fuck did I make—?”

            “GEORGE.”

            “WHAT?” Just the same, as soon as George fluctuated to face his annoying twin brother, his mouth clamped shut, his eyes widening in utter amazement at the sight before him.

            It was like Fred had become their only sister, Ginny… only, his hair was shorter and Ginny’s nose was definitely more fleshed out and… buttony? Fred was basically Fred, but the girl version. And George had never been more freaked out.

            “Oh my fuck—”

            “Don’t you dare freak out on me—I should be the one freaking out!” interjected Fred, his guise encapsulated by the same distress that illustrated George.

            “Godric… I think I brewed some sort of Polyjuice Potion,” he mumbled in return, staggering back so he could sit on his desk, clearly still a little befuddled. Confused.

            “Oh, you think?”

            You burst out laughing, collapsing against Fred as he released an annoyed ebb of air, holding you all the same—your forehead touched his chest, which was now pillowed with soft, clothed breasts, as you tried to stifle the many giggles erupting your lungs, but you couldn’t help yourself. The narration was a little funny. Very funny. Extremely funny—

            “Now you find it amusing?” Fred raised an eyebrow as you exhaled airily, your pretty smile warming your boyfriend’s heart; you were so dear to him. Nibbling your bottom lip, you tugged his feminine form towards your bed, speaking as you did so.

            “You’re actually unbelievable—no wonder why George makes all the potions.”

            “He’s the one who got it wrong!” he sounded so exasperated, leading you to cackle even more as you gently pushed him to sit, straddling his lap. You buried your face into the crook of his neck, humming to yourself; feeling quite exhausted yourself, you couldn’t help but giggle quietly, imagining the whole story in your head.

            “How long will this… version of you last, d’you reckon?” you asked, feeling Fred’s long arms wound around your waist, keeping you close—always keeping you close. “As furious as I am since you could’ve died—” His ‘pffft’ made you roll your eyes, but you didn’t respond to it. “It is quite… pleasing to look at.” Fred raised both of his eyebrows.

            “What’s pleasing?”

            “I dunno… your face.”

            “And?”

            “Um… your voice?”

            “And?”

            “Your… body, I guess,” your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you cleared your throat, hearing his raspy chuckle as his fingers caressed your hips. You hadn’t realised until now, but he’d been wearing your rings, your boyfriend. Probably trying some of your lip glosses on whilst you had been gone.

            “Wanna roleplay while it lasts?” you could practically hear his wink as you gagged, shoving his chest as you picked your head up.

            “Ew! No,” you firmly stated, meeting his gaze with a hint of sterness tingling your countenance. He merely pouted again in return; it was his turn to hide in your neck, causing you to giggle again, his glossed lips tickling your pulse point as you tried not to suspire.

            “…Can I do your makeup?”

            “No,” he answered. Though, after a beat of silence, he mumbled. “Fine.”

[girlkisser13]

taste- part 2

"every time you close your eyes and feel his lips, you're feelin' mine" "and every time you breathe his air, just know i was already there" "you can have him if you like, i’ve been there, done that once or twice" "and singin' bout it don't mean i care, yeah, i know i've been known to share"

a/n: the long awaited part 2. tysm for all the love on part 1 !! if you haven't read part 1 yet, you can read it here.

pairings: theodore nott x slytherin fem!reader

warnings/tags: mentions of cheating. pansmione mention.

summary: theo makes his choice.

theo's gaze lingered on you as you disappeared out of honeydukes, your parting words still echoing in the silence that followed your exit. pansy had been stunned, her smirk wiped clean off her face. now, she stood frozen next to him, her dark eyes darting back and forth between the door and him.

it didn’t take long before her shock morphed into anger. she turned to him, her voice low, almost dangerously soft. "is it true?"

theo shifted uncomfortably, glancing at the shopkeeper who was pretending to be busy counting coins but was clearly eavesdropping. "pansy," he began, unsure how to even start.

"don’t. just tell me the truth." her eyes bore into his. "how long?"

theo opened his mouth, but the words caught in his throat. he wanted to explain, to justify, to somehow make it all seem like less than it was, but nothing he could say would change the facts. "since the summer," he admitted finally, his voice barely audible.

pansy’s breath hitched, her eyes widening in disbelief. "the summer," she repeated, the words foreign on her tongue. she took a step toward him, nostrils flaring as she inhaled deeply. her eyes sharpened, realization dawning as she caught the faint, sweet scent that lingered on his clothing.

"god, you even smell like her," she hissed, taking another step closer. "it’s like she’s still here. like i’m breathing the same air as her."

theo clenched his jaw, guilt washing over him. he had never intended to hurt pansy, not like this. his feelings for you had crept up on him, unexpected but undeniable. but pansy had been a part of his life for so long— he had thought he could manage both, keep up appearances with her and still have you. now, he realized how naive that had been.

"how long have you been lying to me?" pansy asked, her voice rising as her emotions took hold. "how long have you been sneaking around behind my back?"

"i wasn’t—" he began, but she cut him off with a bitter laugh.

"since the summer," she spat, shaking her head in disbelief, her face a mix of anger and hurt. "all those times you disappeared, all those excuses— you were with her, weren’t you?"

he couldn’t bring himself to deny it. he nodded, shame settling deep in his chest. "i didn’t mean for it to happen like this, pansy. i never wanted to hurt you."

"funny how that works," she said coldly, taking a step back. "because you did."

without another word, pansy stormed out of the shop, leaving theo standing there, lost in the wreckage of the moment.

it wasn’t long before pansy found you.

she caught you as you were leaving the three broomsticks, the warmth of the tavern replaced by the chill of the autumn air. you barely had time to register the fury on her face before she was in front of you, blocking your path.

"so it’s true," she said, her voice shaking with a mix of anger and disbelief. "you’ve been messing around with theo behind my back."

you stared at her, feeling a deep weariness settle over you. you didn’t want to fight, didn’t want to keep rehashing the same painful truth. "you don’t have to worry about me anymore, pansy," you said quietly. "there’s nothing between us now."

pansy narrowed her eyes. "what are you saying?"

"i’m saying you can have him," you replied, the weight of your own words pressing on your chest. "i don’t care anymore."

for a moment, she just stood there, her expression faltering. and then, something inside her seemed to snap. she let out a breathless, bitter laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. "you don’t care?" she echoed. "you ruined everything, and now you’re just going to walk away?"

you held her gaze, your own emotions swirling just beneath the surface, but you kept your voice steady. "it’s over, pansy. there’s nothing left to fight about."

behind her anger, you could see the confusion and hurt. pansy had always been so sure of her place by his side. to have that shaken so thoroughly, it was clear she didn’t know how to process it.

"this is too much," she muttered, her voice breaking. she glanced back toward the village, her shoulders tense, before turning her eyes to you again. "he’s not worth it," she said, her voice cold, but there was a flicker of something softer underneath. "i’m done with him."

and with that, she walked away, leaving you standing in the street, the wind biting at your skin.

you barely had time to process her departure before you heard the sound of footsteps behind you. you turned just in time to see theo running after you, his face drawn with frustration and worry.

"wait—" he called, but you didn’t stop. you couldn’t. you couldn’t let him pull you back into this mess again.

"theo, don’t," you said, your voice thick with emotion as you quickened your pace, trying to put distance between you and him. "just go."

"i’m not going after her!" he shouted, catching up to you, his hand grabbing your arm to stop you. "please, just listen to me."

you stopped abruptly, pulling your arm from his grasp as you spun to face him. "i won’t be anyone’s secret, theo," you said, your voice trembling with the effort to hold back your tears. "if you want to be with pansy so badly, then go. be with her."

he flinched at your words, hurt flashing in his eyes, but you turned away before you could see any more. you couldn’t handle it. not now. not after everything.

"wait—" theo tried again, but you shook your head, walking faster, not stopping until the distance between you and him was more than just physical.

when you were finally alone, the tears came. you let them fall, letting the weight of everything settle on your shoulders. and in that quiet, in the solitude of the moment, you made a promise to yourself.

you would never let anyone treat you like that again.

the days after the confrontation were strange. theo kept his distance, and for that, you were grateful. but it didn’t stop him from watching you, didn’t stop the furtive glances he sent your way when he thought you weren’t looking.

it wasn’t until a few days later, during charms class, that theo made his next move.

a folded note landed on your desk, sliding across the surface to rest just beneath your hand. you glanced down at it, your heart sinking as you saw theo’s familiar handwriting scrawled across the parchment.

meet me at the astronomy tower? 9 p.m.

you rolled your eyes, crumpling the note in your hand and shoving it into your bag. as if things could be that simple.

after class, theo approached you again, his face full of the same pleading expression you had seen too many times before.

"please," he said softly, stepping in front of you. "just five minutes. that’s all i’m asking."

you stared at him for a long moment, considering his words, weighing the possibilities. against your better judgment, you found yourself nodding. "fine. five minutes."

he looked relieved, like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. "thank you."

you said nothing as you walked away, your stomach twisting with anxiety for the conversation that was sure to come.

at nine o’clock, you made your way up to the astronomy tower, your heart beating a little faster with every step. the night was cool, the stars scattered across the sky like distant pinpricks of light. when you reached the top, theo was already there, leaning against the stone railing, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

he straightened as soon as he saw you, his expression soft, almost vulnerable.

"you came," he said, his voice filled with quiet relief.

"i said i would," you replied shortly, crossing your arms. "you’ve got five minutes."

theo sighed, running a hand through his hair, his eyes darting to the sky before they finally met yours again. "i’ve been a fool,” he started, his voice quiet, almost pained. "i was a fool to think i could be with pansy in public and have you in secret. i want to be with you."

you blinked, taken aback by his sudden admission. "where is this coming from?" you asked cautiously. "why do you suddenly feel this way?"

"it’s not sudden," theo replied, shaking his head. "i've always felt this way. i was just too prideful. too scared to admit it, to myself or to you." he stepped closer, his voice trembling slightly as he continued. "but fuck my pride. fuck everything. i am in love with you."

your breath caught in your throat, the rawness in his words slicing through the defenses you had carefully built up over the last few weeks.

"i’ve tried not to be," theo admitted, his voice thick with emotion. "i’ve tried to do the right thing, to do right by pansy, and by you. but i can't help it. my heart won’t stop wanting you.”

you stood frozen, barely able to process his words as he took another step closer, the intensity in his eyes almost overwhelming. "i’ve been in love with you since the day you tripped and fell on your face right in front of me."

you let out a breathy laugh at the memory, your heart tugging at the unexpected sweetness of it.

theo smiled, his expression softening as he reached for your hand, his fingers brushing against yours. "my love is yours, if you’re willing to take it."

you hesitated, your mind spinning as you tried to sort through the mess of emotions swirling inside you. "i... i am not sure if i am ready yet," you admitted softly, pulling your hand back slightly.

theo nodded, understanding flickering in his eyes. "that’s alright," he said gently. "i can wait. i will wait as long as you need."

there was a quiet, fragile moment between the two of you, the weight of everything that had passed finally beginning to lift. slowly, you felt some of your defenses crumble, your heart opening to the possibility that maybe, just maybe, things could be different.

over the following weeks, you and theo took things slow. there was no more secrecy, no more hiding in shadows or sneaking around. theo kept his promise, giving you the time and space you needed to feel ready. and when the two of you were finally ready to make things public, it was on your terms, with no lingering doubts.

pansy, to your surprise, had been able to reconcile with theo. while their romantic relationship had ended, they were able to find a new sense of friendship. as it turned out, pansy had begun seeing someone new as well— hermione granger, of all people. though unexpected, their relationship seemed to be exactly what pansy needed, and you couldn’t help but be happy for her.

in time, you and theo began to date publicly, and while the journey hadn’t been easy, you knew that what the two of you had was real. the love theo had promised you that night under the stars was yours, and you were finally ready to accept it.

[inkyarcturus]

Usually I don’t like Dumbledore, but I recently went down a rabbit hole watching trans/queer elder content.

Im stuck imagining a scenario where Harry discovers that he is gay and he feels so alone in this discovery as he thinks there’s no adult around that he can truly relate to.

Then, someone brings up the fact that Dumbledore is gay and the pure joy/relief/surprise that crosses his face.

Him just saying, “We live that long?” In utter disbelief at the fact that Dumbledore is 150 and has kept living through so much discrimination.

Just, I don’t know, I’m feeling feelings

[mrstellmeafuckingsecret]

i have a fic need that needs to be fulfilled and it's just sirius post-azkaban in ootp locked up in number twelve and his memory is damaged and he only remembers the worst of the worst so he just . pensieve-s it and pulls his worst memories out because he doesnt want to be burdened by them . and then harry finds them and takes a dip. and it's just all very horrifying yk because its really the worst of the worst and it's all happened in number twelve . and sirius doesn't find out and the next time harry sees sirius sirius is just doing the crossword on the dining table and he just thinks to sirius' memories where he's being punished on the exact same spot where he's sitting and just bursting into tears but he cant tell sirius because sirius didnt need to be reminded of that

[nicolillies]

pansy parkinson | queen of hearts ♥️

[marauder-misprint]

Sentient shadow

Theodore Nott x fem!reader

Part II

5.4k words

cw: fluff, no y/n, stranger to friends to lovers

Theo had never been to his grandfather’s house. The old man always went to Nott Manor when Theo’s mother was still alive and he was barely seen after her death. So Theo was surprised when he arrived with his things that his grandfather truly lived in the middle of nowhere. Nott Manor was secluded by the acres of land on the estate, the closest neighbor was kilometers away. This, wherever he was now, was a small town with what looked like the necessities on a main street that was surrounded by a few rows of houses. The next nearest town was over a day’s walk, ensuring that any travel would be done via broom, floo or apparition. 

This was his new home. At least until he graduated from Hogwarts and could be allowed some money from his family’s fortune to rent a flat near whatever job he ended up getting. 

His grandfather tried to keep Theo active, assigning him chores for in and outside the house. They sometimes got done. Theo often opted to lock himself in the dingey guest room that was his “for as long as you need it,” as his grandfather said. Theo was grateful that he was allowed to stay with family and said family lived in a wizarding town, but it wasn’t home. 

Still, his grandfather persisted. After a few days of allowing Theo to “unpack and get settled,” he sent his grandson out of the house and told him to get some fresh air. 

“You can come back in for dinner. Get lunch from Mr. Lester, tell ‘im I sent you. Meet people. Get to know the area.” 

Theo wanted to say that there wasn’t anything to get to know. He bit his tongue and nodded. He left the house and strolled down the stone street with his hands shoved in his pockets. 

That’s when he saw you exiting the bakery with a muffin in hand. He recognized your face. Sort of. You looked around his age and he was fairly certain he’d seen you around Hogwarts, but no name came to mind. When you saw him walking in your direction, confusion flashed across your face. 

“Theodore,” you said when he got close enough. 

“Ah, you know who I am,” he said casually. 

You rolled your eyes. “Who doesn’t know Malfoy and his friends?” 

It was clear you didn’t like Draco with how you said his name. Not that Theo could blame you; not many people outside of his immediate friend group liked him. 

You gave Theo a curt nod and started to walk away, but he went with you. He didn’t say anything more and neither did you. You ended up leading him to the small park-ish area of the town. There was a small play structure for children, a few trees in the grassy area and picnic tables. You gave Theo an odd look when he sat across from you at the picnic table. You just wanted to eat your muffin in peace. 

“What are you doing?” you asked, not even attempting to mask the rudeness in your voice. 

“Sitting.”

“And why are you doing it at this table?”

“From what I can see, you’re the only one around here who isn’t five or fifty, Dolcezza.”

“The Watsons live here,” you stated dryly.

Watsons? Theo didn’t recognize the surname.

“You can get to know Parker.”

Parker Watson. Right. He was a Slytherin a few years younger than Theo. 

“I’m not wasting my summer with a thirteen year old.” 

You sighed. It seemed as if you weren’t getting rid of Theo anytime soon. At least he wasn’t staring directly at you while you ate. He was obviously taking in the area. You tried to be fine with the silence, but your curiosity was getting the better of you. 

“Why are you here?” 

“I told you. You’re the-”

“Not at this table. Why are you in my town?” 

“It’s our town now. I have to stay with my grandfather since Father’s been shipped off to Azkaban and my mum’s eight feet in the ground.”

“Oh,” you said quietly, looking away from Theo. “I didn’t…”

“Yeah.” 

You sat in silence with Theo for a few minutes. Eventually, he stopped looking around and just stared at you. You did your best not to shrink into yourself under his dark eyes, but you did shift in your seat. A few more minutes passed and you got up. Theo mirrored you. He walked with you as you headed to the corner store. 

He follows you around the small shop. You don’t buy anything. You rarely do. It’s really just something to do. Neither of you spoke to each other as you went down aisle after aisle. Theo even went with you as you walked home, but as soon as he continued all the way to your front door, you stuck your arm out to block him from entering the house.

“If you’re going to be my shadow, stay out here. I’ll be back.” 

He nodded. Then he leaned against the wall of your house to wait for you to return. You don’t hurry to gather the few things you need. You took your sweet time. 

“Who were you talking to?” your mother asked when you went into the kitchen to grab a water bottle. 

You hummed, not looking at her. “Uh, someone from school. They’re staying here… for the summer.” 

You knew Theo was staying for longer than the summer, but you didn’t need to be having this conversation with your mother about someone you really barely knew. 

“Someone from school? One of your friends?” your mother pressed. 

“No.”

“Who is it?” 

“No one,” you said before turning to leave. 

You didn’t let her ask another question. You knew that she was about to start asking questions that you didn’t have the answers to. Theo was waiting for you when you walked out of the house. You didn’t look at him or greet him in any way. Like before, he followed you. You went back to the park and sat at the picnic table again. Theo retook his spot across from you. You read for the rest of the morning. 

“Can you point me in the direction of Mr… uh, Leprechaun? Leprosy? Lemon?”

You raised your eyebrows, not looking up from your book. “Lester.” 

“Yeah. Him.”

“Butcher shop’s next to the store we were in,” you said lazily. 

Theo wordlessly got up and left you. You rolled your eyes. You were glad to be truly alone for the first time since you left the bakery. But it didn’t last too long. Theo got lunch from Mr. Lester and ate it outside his shop. Then he went back to you and sat back down.

That’s how the two of you sat for a while. Silence. The wind rustled the leaves and you turned the pages of your book, but you didn’t talk. Eventually, Theo laid down on the bench with his hands behind his head. It was better than him watching you. 

When the sun started to set, you got up, ready to go home again. As soon as you stood up, Theo sat up. 

“Where are you going, Dolcezza?” he asked.

“Home.” 

Theo got up and walked with you in the direction of your house. At first you think he’s walking you home, like the shadow he’s been. But then he turned down the pathway to Mr. Faust’s house. You stopped walking.

“Your grandfather… He’s Mr. Faust?” you called when Theo was halfway down the path.

Theo looked over his shoulder at you, barely pausing to say, “Yes.” 

You were distracted for the rest of the evening. You’d talked to Mr. Faust before. Spent a little bit of time with him. Such happens when you live in a smaller, remote town. You know the residents. And Mr. Faust told you that you reminded him of his daughter. You knew he only had one daughter – who apparently was Theo’s mother. 

Once inside, Theo’s grandfather calls for him from the kitchen. He was working on dinner for the two of them. 

“I hear you’ve met Y/N. Lovely girl, isn’t she?” 

“She goes to Hogwarts, Grandfather. Of course, I know her.” 

Once his grandfather said your name, Theo could place you in his year, your house, the classes you’ve shared over the years. He hadn’t spoken to you much, only when he had to. He isn’t sure how his grandfather knows he spent practically all day with you. Maybe one of the other residents of the town is a gossip. 

“Well, I wasn’t sure if you were friends. I’ve never heard her talk about you.” 

“How much time do you spend with her?” Theo asked.

“Oh, not too much. She does some mending for me and some others, and she tells stories about Hogwarts to the littler ones when she works. Sometimes I listen for a little bit after dropping off or picking up my things. She’s never mentioned you.” 

“Well, I do know her. We’re just not close.” 

“Maybe that will change.”

“Maybe.” 

Theo’s grandfather considered telling him that you are like his mother. For now, that would be something he kept to himself. A little reminder of her lived on in you. He’d tell Theo about it if he got to know you better.

---

Theo waited for you at the end of the pathway of his grandfather’s house. He assumed you would walk by again. If not, he probably would have stood there all day, casually leaning against the stone wall. When you passed him, you didn’t greet him. You didn’t even acknowledge him. But he still pushed himself off the wall and quickly matched your stride.

“Reading again today?” he asked as you sat down at the same table as yesterday. 

You placed your bag on the table and pulled out some clothing that you were working on mending. 

“I see, telling stories instead,” he said with a smirk. “Entertain me.” 

“I tell stories to children,” you clarified as you quickly got to work. “You aren’t a child.” 

“I can act like one if it gets me a story.”

“Once upon a time, there was a new person in my town and he decided to follow me around like a sentient shadow. His reasoning for doing so is unknown. The end,” you said dryly, not looking up from your work. 

“A sentient shadow?” 

“Mine doesn’t talk to me. Does yours?” 

He shrugged, which you were just able to see in your peripheral vision. Your lips twitched as you stifled a laugh. Theo saw it. You kept working. He watched you for a while, admiring how your fingers pushed the needle and thread through pants and shirts and a stuffed animal. Eventually, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one. He held the pack out to you.

“Want one?” 

“No,” you said flatly. “And I’d rather you didn’t around me.” 

“Alright.” 

Theo stood up and walked away from you. You didn’t think he’d actually listen. He stood at a distance until he finished his lit cigarette. Once it was finished, he came back to the table, but he didn’t sit down.

“You’ll show me around sometime, Dolcezza?” Although his voice said it as a question, it felt like a statement. A prediction, even. 

He stood at the end of the table, waiting for a response. He could wait. Your hands stopped, setting down your needle. 

“If you wait, I can. These won’t take all day.” 

He nodded before laying down on the bench like he had done yesterday. You got back to work. Your thoughts drifted to every time you interacted with Theo at school. They were all brief interactions. The occasional partnered spellwork. Him asking you to pass some ingredients in Potions. You saying ‘excuse me’ as you moved past him in the library. It really was strange to be spending time with him. But he stuck around until you finished what you needed to.

“Ready?” you asked, standing up and slinging your bag over your shoulder.

He was silent as he got up. You started down the main street with him at your side. You pointed out each building and who ran the shop.

“You’ll learn their names soon enough. Only so many people live here.” 

Then you started around the neighborhood. You listed off the names of who lived in each house, making sure to note the Watson house in case Theo decided that he did want to spend his summer with Parker rather than you. Every few houses, you told him to wait in the street while you dropped off what you had mended. Everyone looked past you at Theo. Word of his arrival hadn’t fully made its rounds through the town.

“Is that your boyfriend?” an older lady, Mrs. Thomas, asked.

“No. Mr. Faust’s grandson is living with him this summer.”

“Shame… He’s a handsome one.” 

You gave her a tight-lipped smile and wished her a good afternoon. You knew she was watching you as you walked back to Theo. She would more definitely be spreading the rumor that you were dating him, being the gossip that she was. 

The next day Theo was waiting for you again at the end of his grandfather’s property. 

“What’s the plan for today, Dolcezza?” he asked. 

You weren’t headed in the direction of the park, rather you were walking out of the town’s perimeter. Theo wasn’t complaining. He was looking forward to doing something new.

“If you’re following me around again, you’ll have to wait and see.”

He nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets. You walked in silence on the path that would eventually take you to the next town. Your town wasn’t even out of sight when you turned off the designated path and onto one that appeared to be made from being walked on so many times. Theo hesitated slightly before following you. You moved quicker on this trail. It wasn’t on purpose; it was simply a habit. You were the one who made the trail so you knew every step and every turn like the back of your hand. And you knew it would lead to a clearing.

You had planted some flowers around the edge of the clearing, and by their own pollination, they expanded inward. You sat down against a large tree and sighed. This was your spot. You had debated telling Theo to not follow you today, but he had been tolerable enough the last two days. It was really to get away from the people in town when you needed a break. You didn’t see him as someone from town. Plus, he would probably need this space as well as the summer went on. You were being thoughtful. 

You didn’t bring anything to do. You were going to sit and do nothing. That’s usually what you did out here. All you needed was fresh air and your imagination to keep you entertained. And sometimes you fell asleep. It was connecting with nature. 

Theo brought a book with him, because he was expecting to end up at the park again. He stood at the edge of the clearing, taking it in, as you sat down. He didn’t enter it right away. He seemed to sense that this place was special to you. When he did sit down, he leaned against a tree on the other side of the clearing, giving you your space. 

He read for a while. You watched him for a while. You had to agree with Mrs. Thomas, he was handsome. But he was also friends with Malfoy and all of his friends. They weren’t people you normally associated with. Theo himself didn’t seem too bad. Maybe he was okay. At least he could be okay for the summer and you could go back to not talking to each other when the school year started. 

After a while, you assumed when he finished a chapter or two, Theo put down his book and took something out of his pocket. It was too small to be his wand. He flicked his wrist and a shiny, silver blade appeared. Your eyes widened with the sudden fear that maybe you had led him to a secluded area and now he could kill you and no one would ever know. Then he flicked his wrist the other direction, and  the blade disappeared. He did this a few times before he reached for a small branch. He started one of the ends into a point. Once one end was sufficiently sharpened, he flipped it and did the same to the other side. When that was done, he stabbed the ground next to his leg. And he reached for another stick. 

You watched him do this a few more times before you laid down and stared up at the branches high above you with their green leaves. His repetitive scraping was oddly soothing. You didn’t realize you had fallen asleep until Theo was prodding your shoulder. 

“It’s about dinner time. I don’t know how to get back.”

You sat up and stretched. “Yeah. Right. Just give me one sec.”

He backed up, giving you space to get up and gather yourself. It wasn’t like you had brought anything with you. You walked in silence back to town. Theo hesitated before heading down the path to his grandfather’s. 

“I like that place. Thanks, Dolcezza,” he said monotonously. He nodded and then walked toward the door.

You waited until he was inside. You hadn’t expected that. You and Theo, despite having spent three days together now, didn’t talk. But the sentiment behind those five words left a warm feeling in your chest. You thought it was possibly the beginning of friendship. 

“Where’d you take Faust’s grandson today?” your mother asked as you entered your house. 

She stood in the doorway of the kitchen, watching you kick off your shoes. 

“Nowhere,” you lied. 

She chuckled. “Was he who you were talking to the other day?”

“Yes.”

“I see… I hear he’s handsome.” 

“Can we not talk about Theodore?”

“Is that his name? Mrs. Thomas didn’t know.”

“What’s for dinner?” You tried to change the topic and your mother smiled knowingly. 

You were avoiding. You didn’t want to talk about it so why wouldn’t you? You knew that you’d be dodging her questions all through dinner anyways, and probably the rest of the week. And if Theo kept following you around, it would be all summer. 

The next few days, you stayed around town. You couldn’t shake Theo. Wherever you went, he went, except for your house. You didn’t let him in. If you had to go back to your house during the day, he wanted on the front porch until you came out again. He watched you do more mending. He read when you read. You actually started working on your summer assignments. He had muttered something about doing the assignments the week before school. Then he laid down on the bench and fell asleep. A few times you went back to the clearing and Theo added more sticks to his collection. 

Throughout all of this, you started talking more and more. You were actually getting to know him. He was still pretty quiet though, letting you talk. But if you asked him a question, he answered, although his answers were consistently shorter than yours. 

During July, your mother asked if you could get some fish. You said you’d try. You grabbed your pole and went out. Like always, Theo was waiting for you outside his grandfather’s. He eyed your pole warily but didn’t say anything. You walked out of town side by side. He gave you a confused look when you didn’t turn off on the trail to the clearing. You kept walking. If he wasn’t going to ask, you weren’t going to tell him. 

After a little bit, you turned down another trail. This one was even less worn than the clearing. You didn’t have as much speed on this one and Theo was able to keep right behind you. He let out a ‘huh’ when you came upon a pond. It was tiny compared to the Black Lake, but it was big enough to have fish. There wasn’t a dock or anything so you stood on the edge of the grass to fish.

Theo stood off to the side as you cast your line into the water. He had a strange look in his eyes that you can’t quite place as he watched you. You realize it’s some kind of mix of wonder and amazement once you reel in a fish. If anyone asked, you’d say the fish in the pond were dumb. They were easy to catch. 

“Can you teach me?” he asked all of a sudden. 

You jumped, having been standing in silence for over an hour. You looked over your shoulder at him. 

“You’ve never fished before?”

He shook his head. You sighed and motioned for him to come closer. You explained the button that allowed the line to slack and how to flick the rod so that the hook and lure went flying. 

“Some people use live bait, but my lure has done me good so far. And after you cast, you spin this handle to reel it back in. The lure mimics a smaller fish swimming. And if you feel a bite, you jerk the rod to catch the hook in the fish’s mouth.” You paused and held out your rod for Theo. “Give it a try.”

He exhaled through his nose as he took it. “Swish and flick, right, Dolcezza? Just like what Flitwick taught us.”

You laughed. Theo smiled at that and then he attempted to cast. It didn’t go nearly as far as when you did it. 

“That’s okay. It takes practice. … You’ll want to go a little faster than that. The fish is swimming, not lollygagging.” 

“Right…” 

“And it’s all in the wrist,” you said when he was about to cast again. 

This cast was better than the first, but it still needed work. For a first time fisherman, Theo wasn’t doing too horribly, but you knew all the fish you’d be bringing home would be yours unless Theo got a stroke of luck. You stepped back to observe him. He looked happy, peaceful. There was a lightness to his features that you hadn’t seen at Hogwarts. 

After a decent amount of casting and a few bites from fish that got away, Theo gave you your rod back. You fished until you had enough to bring home to your mother. You hung them up on a tree, leaned your rod against the same tree and took your shoes off to wade in the water. Theo watched you in silence.

“It feels nice,” you called to him. “If you want to…” 

He slid his shoes off and tentatively walked into the water, wincing slightly at the coldness and squishy feeling beneath his feet. 

“No ponds on the Nott property?” you asked as he walked toward you.

“No.” He took a startled step to the left. “What the fuck touched my leg?”

You laughed at his expression. “Either a fish or seaweed. You know, algae and underwater plants.”

“Gross.”

“You know what’s gross?” You leaned down and slashed water at his face. “Tasting this water.”

He swore again before splashing you back. You were both thoroughly soaked by the time you were done splashing each other. He had turned his back to you to head back to shore when you gave his back a gentle shove. It took him by surprise. He stumbled. It happened in slow motion: him somehow turning around, grabbing you and pulling you down into the fall as he completely lost his balance. You practically landed on top of him. You could feel your face burning as you rolled away from him in the shallow water. 

“That was evil,” you said, earning a laugh from Theo.

“Says the girl who pushed me.”

“Touché.”

Once out of the water, you put your shoes back down. You grabbed the fish and your pole, but then Theo reached for the fish to take them from you. 

“I know I didn’t catch any, but I can carry them. You got the rod.”

You let him take them. The walk back to town is quiet but comfortable. You occasionally look at him through your periphery. He appeared to be so content with whatever this friendship was, even if it had led to him walking a distance in drenched clothing. You’d be lying if you said your clothing was comfortable right now. 

He walked with you the entire way back to your house. He stood on the porch as you put away your rod and then he held out the fish when you came back to get them. 

“You can-” The words couldn’t come out of your mouth fast enough.

“Is this Theodore Faust?” your mother asked, appearing behind you. Your face burned more than it had when you fell on him earlier.

“Nott, ma’am,” he corrected her. 

“How lovely to meet you,” she said with a smile. “Oh, you went fishing too? Would you like to have dinner with us? We’ll be cooking some of those up.” 

Could your face turn any redder? 

To your relief, Theo shook his head. “I’d love to, but I should be getting back to Grandfather. I appreciate the offer, ma’am.”

“Another time, then. I’ll invite your grandfather as well.”

You offered Theo a pained smile, which he returned as he handed you the fish. You knew that your mother was going to talk about this all through the evening and possibly the week.

“Mrs. Thomas was not doing that young man justice,” your mother murmured as she turned back into the house. 

You rotated what you did over the next few days. Going to the clearing, sitting in the park, just going for walks, working on homework. And whatever you did, Theo did too. You told yourself that he just didn’t want to be alone, whether that was his choice or if his grandfather was forcing him to leave the house. You wouldn’t’ve been surprised if it was the latter. Still, he seemed to be enjoying your company at least. He wasn’t complaining. 

“Can we do fish tonight?” your mother asked. 

You nodded as you drank your morning tea. 

“If that Theodore is going with you, bring your father’s rod. I’m sure Mr. Faust wouldn’t mind some.”

You nodded again. Your father hadn’t used his rod in years. You grabbed it and headed toward Mr. Faust’s house, where Theo was waiting. He tilted his head slightly when he saw the second rod, but his face lit up when you handed it to him.

“Don’t break it,” you warned, despite knowing that Theo wouldn’t do that on purpose. But for good measure, you added, “It’s my father’s. I don’t think he’d forgive me if I only came back with one rod.”

“Two rods leave, two rods will come back,” Theo said solemnly. 

There was a spring in Theo’s step as you headed for the pond. You couldn’t help but smile at how excited he was. He really took a liking to fishing. A wide grin took over his face as he cast his line into the pond next to you. You didn’t talk much. You just cast, reeled, recast, reeled, removed a fish, and repeat. It was a comfortable quiet, only broken by the occasional comment. 

When you were done fishing, you didn’t go back into town right away. You turned down the trail to your clearing. You leaned your rod against a tree and hung up the fish; Theo leaned his rod up against yours. You went to sit down where you usually sat. You expected Theo to sit by his ever-growing stick spikes, but that’s not where he sat. He sat right by your side, close enough that your shoulders were touching. 

After a few minutes of peaceful silence, you said, “You’re not too bad, Theodore.”

He hummed. “You expected I would be?”

“Take a look at your friends. They’d hate living here.”

“I think Draco’d combust,” he said with a snorted laugh. 

“But you seem to be doing alright.”

“Thanks to you.” 

It’s quieter. It hung in the air between you. You don’t know what to do with that.

“You’re welcome.” There was silence. “You like fishing, huh?” 

“It’s… nice.” 

And that was it. Short answers were Theo’s forte. 

July came to an end. Despite what your mother said, Theo and his grandfather had yet to come over for dinner. You figured it would’ve been an awkward night if it had happened. You weren’t complaining that it wasn’t looking like it was going to happen. 

But you kept spending time with Theo. It got to the point where you would say you were friends. You were accustomed to his presence. Your sentient shadow really wasn’t as bad as you had expected, especially with the conversations you had in the clearing. During one of your days out there, he said that you could call him Theo if you wanted to.

“It’s what my friends call me,” he said as he stared up at the sky. You were both lying on your backs. “Well, except Draco. He’s a surname kind of bloke.”

“Theo…” you said, trying it out. “No offense but it’s weird. I mean, you’re Theodore Nott. Not Theo Nott.”

“I said if you wanted to. You don’t have to.” The words had a bit of bite to them. It felt like he wanted you to call him Theo, like that confirmed that you were friends and he wanted that.

“We are friends. I just don’t know…”

“Don’t worry about it. Really.”

More days passed. More sitting in the park. More walking around the corner shop and through the other shops. More mending. A few more fishing trips. And more afternoons in the clearing. 

You were both leaning against your usual tree. Theo had started sitting closer and closer to you each time you did this. His collection of spikes had stopped growing, with a few even falling over after a storm. He didn’t bother standing them back up. 

You sighed.

“This is all going to change when we go back to school, isn’t it?” you asked quietly as you stared up at the leaves from the trees across from you.

“Hm?”

“Whatever this… friendship is. It’s going to change once we’re back at Hogwarts. You know, when you’re back with Malfoy, Parkinson, Berkshire, Zabini.”

Silence fell between you. It was thick with something. You couldn’t put your finger on it. Theo was thinking about what you said; he didn’t necessarily want it to change. He had decided that he liked you. Whatever this was between you two, it was nice. 

“Do you want it to?” he asked slowly, his voice low like he didn’t want the trees to overhear his question.

“I mean, I like this Theo. He’s nice to be around. Funny. Good company.” 

Theo sat up a little straighter. You called him Theo. You noticed his adjustment and what you said. You could feel heat beginning to creep up your neck, which only got worse as he looked at you. You didn’t meet his eye, not knowing that if you had, you’ve been met with a soft look. 

He took a deep breath. Slytherin ambition, right? He got what he wanted, and you were what he wanted. He reached over, gently using your chin to turn your head. He leaned in and pressed his lips on yours. You froze. You wanted to gasp, maybe pull away in surprise, but you were completely frozen. 

When he pulled away, he whispered, “I would like it to change, but not in the way you’re implying.”

“Oh,” you breathed. It’s all you could do. 

Theodore Nott had just kissed you. In your clearing. Someone, who before this summer, you never would’ve imagined being in your clearing. Someone, who before this summer, you never would’ve imagined kissing, let alone not hating it. 

“So… erm, what do you say?” he asked after you hadn’t said anything more, nor had you moved. 

“Um, one sec…” You leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips.

Soft. Sweet. Gentle. His hand moved to hold your cheek until you pulled back.

“I think I’d like that.”

You and Theo wore matching smiles. You were going to have a lot of explaining to do when you got to school. 

tags: @navs-bhat

[moonschocolate]

Headcanons about my current hyperfixation: THEOO!!☆

I keep stalking the 'theodore nott headcanons' tag so I might as well write my own headcanons about him

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

this man has social anxiety. prove me wrong.

when he was younger he found comfort in reading fiction books, like pjo

he 100% had an obsession with greek mythology, or mythology in general, and it's still kinda there but not like before

then growing up he got into classics

like one day he was like 'what if I read a Dostoevskij book' and that's where it all started

he prefers reading this kind of books because they teach you more

tallest boy you've ever seen, somewhat taller (only by few centimeteres) than Fred and George

he plays the cello, like kind of, he knows how to play a piece only studying it, i believe this man was never able to play a piece at first sight

surprisingly (to him) he really has a lot of things in common with Luna, when he found out he wanted to spend more time with her

he's really silent, but GOD does he ever stop thinking?? his head is loud af

enjoys being with his friends, they're used to him not shouting in their ears (unlike some other boy *cough cough* Mattheo *cough cough ... cough*)and he enjoys their company and they do too

not the type of boy to run to Spotify or whatever music app whenever he can, but he enjoys some kind of music (mostly smooth piano jazz, dramatic classical music since it's my fav, and he thinks TV girl, Lamp, Ichiko Aoba are cool)

never replies quickly, he's always late replying cuz thinks being on his phone is a complete waste of time, but it's not like he's NEVER on it

chill with Halloween but feral over Christmas (does not show it)

legos. I've said all.

YOU CANNOT TELL ME THIS MAN DOESNT HAVE HIS ROOM FULL OF STAR WARS SETS

despite enjoying english and all that kind of subjects, he is feral, and when I say feral I mean feral over maths. He loves learing new concepts because then it all makes sense and it's just so cool (explained from a person who is also feral over maths, pls tell me you get what i mean)

hyperfixations? oh so many

again, greek mythology

you could tell this man "Hey do you know about the myth of Apolloand Daphne" his eyes would light up and he would tell you the myth, his opinion, and related myths ("there's also this other myht with Apollo where he-")

A S T R O L O G Y

still greek mythology related but

he could stay hours talking about constellations

"hey do you know the myth behind the gemini constellation? No? Can I tell you about it?! Okay so-"

paper stars.

if there's a paper stripe around he'd grab it and make a paper star out of it

looks like the typa guy who'd take a lot of pictures with a canon/sony camera

when he feels anxious he'd do this thing where (get ready for the worst explanation ever) he'd put one of his nails of the right hand in between the skin and the nail of his thumb on his left hand and make the nail go left and right, still in between the skin and the nail (I ALWAYS DO THAT I HOPE IT MAKES SENSE I TRIED TO BE AS SPECIFIC AS I COULD)

He tried to go to a party since Blaise, Draco, Enzo, Theo, Pansy (basically everyone you get it)... begged him to come along

we could sum up his experience in one word

NIGHTMARE

The music was too loud, the people were to close to him, everyone was shouting, there were alcohol and drugs (he still wonders how they got literal drugs into the castle), everyone tried to dance with him and talk to him, that time he got overwhelmed tried to leave, but they were all like 'heyyyy nooo dont leaveeeee stay hereeeeee' but his friends understood it wasn't for him and Blaise went with him to his dorm, waited until he felt better then went back to the party

has never been to a party since then

smart af

like he easily surpasses draco and mione

also theo and mione are really close friends, one time they found eachother in the library reading the same book and chatting they found out they have several things in common

has a collection of stylographs, that stays in his library neatly ordinated

best sense of style (he obv got it from Blaise but he made it better)

he loves movies, he's watched movies like Dead Poets Society, Dorian Gray, but also movies about historical facts like The Darkest Hour, The King's Speech, Hidden Figures, The Pianist (I'm a sucker for this kind of movies honestly)

!! HE HAS DIMPLES !!

He loves professor Lupin, he thinks of him as Keating is dps

secretly listens to Micheal Bublè in Christmas, he loves his Christmas songs

he only buys old books, never new ones, he thinks that already used books, from decades ago, he thinks they hold stories, and it's even better when the books have annotations, maybe he'll erase them, but it's good to hear other's opinions

has a lot of vynils

used to study for his dad, now this became a habit, that's why he's the best in class

his relationship with his mom is not strong, MORE

When his mom died he was 5 so he didn't understand

when he finally knew the truth he cried for weeks, then he would occasionally go out to look at the stars, which he always admired with his mom, and cried thinking about her, thinking that she was watching him from up there

when he was like 10 he didn't cry no more, only if he ever opened up

he shared anything with her

he NEVER let ANYONE call him Teddy, he always though that is what his mom called him, and he didn't want other people to 'interfere' with that, he feels like it's their thing

despises horror movies. gets scared to death watching them, and doesnt find the lore interesting

never walks around with only socks on, has the fear of walking on water accidentally and getting his feet wet and the feeling disgustes him

also, has the whole collection of pjo books (every book. from percy jackson and the olympians to the chalice of the gods)

loves cats so much, he has two cats, but he wishes he had more

he has male brown cat named Monet and a grey cat with some beige spots and green eyes (it's mt bsf's cat, I love her - the cat - and I thought she could be a honourable mention) named Vivienne

defo has an obsession with sharks, but is even more obsessed with jellyfish, he knows a lot of scientific names for their species, for exmample Phylloriza Punctata, or Chrisaora Quinquecirrha, or Aurelia Aurelita, he's obsessed

Fav subject isn't potions, it's astronomy instead

since i live for loser!Theo, im in love with the idea of him stuttering in front of a guy/girl he finds cute or attractive, blushing and being awkward

my man absolutely doesn't know how to talk, he speaks too fast, and when ppl tell him to slow down, then he thinks he's talking too slow

if anyone fatshames any of his friends, or is racist/homophobic towards them, or just insults them, he will try to avoid throwing punches, but lets say he'll exchange a word or two with that person

if he's itchy, he scratches so hard there could be blood (a bit exaggerated but you get it)

could've been a Ravenclaw, but if he did his father would be really mad at him, so he's happy he isn't

another headcanon that I kindly stole rn from @heirofs1ytherin is that he's into poetry. LIKE 100% ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ You probably got that I love him HES MY BABY

[hp-fanfic-archive]

Unlikely by ObsidianPen (@obsidianpen) Pairing: Harry/Tom Riddle Rating: T Word Count: 2k “Like all magical people, you will get a soul mark when you get your wand,” the genial wizard explained after calmly lighting Tom’s wardrobe and sense of self-preservation on fire. “Unless, of course, your soulmate is younger than you. Then your soul mark shall appear whenever theirs does. They are always on one’s chest, right over your heart. Usually, they are somewhat vague and take time to interpret correctly. Phrases such as ‘Rival to Lover’, or ‘Instantaneous Love’… But they always make sense in the end, and it becomes apparent whom the great, wild magic intended you to be with.” Tom Marvolo Riddle lived his entire, long life thinking that he - Lord Voldemort - was the exception to love. Harry learned at eleven that he would never escape the damnation of Tom Marvolo Riddle. (translation available in Русский)