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maraudereestauderelb · 21 days ago

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What if you're the defendant in one of the trials after the first War against Voldemort?

Hello everyone,

but a special "Hello" to those who love morally grey characters and who imagine themselves a little more "layered" when it comes to the World of Harry Potter and the Marauders.

We can't all be noble Gryffindores who never make any mistakes or wrong choices, can we?

Don't tell me, you've never imagined yourself using a little...dark magic...

Join me and be part of your very own trial! Sounds like fun, right?!

Are you guilty? What have you done? Who are you on the inside? - Let's find out together!

Oh and if you want a little music to set the tone, I've got a little recommendation.

It was a dark room. The tall walls and floor were covered in black marble tiles with the result that every step taken by one of the wizards and witches and every word said inside the biggest courtroom of the magical ministry was echoing, making the volume almost unbearable.

The wooden stands at the end of the room were filled with about fifty rather old witches and wizards dressed in plum-covered robes with elaborate silver initials on them, the members of the Wizengamot. Next to them sat one wizard dressed in black at a tribune. His name Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, the prosecutor.

The rows around the circular room overcrowded with spectators waiting for the trial to begin, amongst them a lot of journalist. In the center of it all was one single chair on which a young woman was sitting, magically bound to it. Behind the chair in the center was another bench filled with five witches and wizards, the witnesses. On the left to the bench was a tiny desk with a chair on which another woman was sitting, her lawyer.

The young woman in the center was nervous, her body slightly shaking, but nobody seemed to notice. On the outside she looked strong and unfazed. But she was worried. Worried she would lose the trial, worried about the two dementors guarding the door, worried she had to go back to the prison which had been her home for the past month, Askaban.

She had been in the room on the tenth floor of the Ministry of Magic before, but as one of the visitors. The trial back then had been extremely private, the ministry trying to keep everything as secret as possible without getting much attention, but her very own trial was different. The room filled with those who wanted to see another Death Eater and murderer locked away for life.

Her heartbeat was going crazy and she was on the verge of tears already. She didn’t dare to look back to the witnesses behind her. The people who had her fate right in their hands. The odds weren’t good and she knew it.

The past month in Askaban had her losing her mind.

The young witch cringed when suddenly the prosecutor cleared his throat and with magically enhanced voice said: “Case 5895026. The magical ministry against Miss Y/N Y/S/N Y/F/N.” Within the blink of an eye, everybody had gone quiet and Y/N’s heart had stopped beating for a second.

“Miss Y/F/N”, he continued looking at her with disgust, just like everybody else: “You have been brought here to the Council of Magical Law so that we may pass judgement on you, for a crime about betrayal, plotting and murder. You are being charged with the murder of seven witches and wizards including two children of the ages four and three. What do you plead?”

“Not guilty”, her lawyer suddenly got up from her chair. “The defender Hailey Cornelia Carter”, Crouch said: “And todays witnesses are Professor Filius Flitwick, former teacher of the accused, Y/M/N, mother of the accused, Arabella McKinnon, family member of the victims, Alastor Moody, Auror, and Rabastan Lestrange.”

The witnesses nodded one after another before Crouch went on: “You’re advised to leave the court room until you’re called.”

Until each and every one of them had left the room, Y/N hadn’t dared to turn around. She couldn’t look at them. Couldn’t look at her mother. She had no idea whether her mother believed the accusations or not. Y/N hadn’t talked to her for months. What if she believed her very own daughter was guilty?

“Today we are talking about the events during the night of the 26th of July in the year 1970, where three Death Eaters attacked the McKinnons with Fiendfyre and burned down their house, killing seven witches and wizards. Paul McKinnon, Elisabeth McKinnon, their daughters Marlene McKinnon and Juliana Miller, Juliana’s husband Alfred Miller and their daughter, Pauline, and son, William. Ladies and Gentlemen, we are talking about a crime involving very dark and mighty magic. A forbidden curse. A curse which was purposely used to kill not only adults but two little children as well. On the night of the 26th of July in the year 1970 seven people had to die a horrible and extremely cruel death. It had been a quiet night like every other until their house went up in smoke and fire, because a coward had attacked them from a distance without a warning. And Miss Y/F/N here is accused of being said witch.”

During Crouch’s speech the young witch in the middle of the room hadn’t raised her head a single time. Her brown eyes were glued to her hands. Never had she ever imagined she could end up in this position. She had been a good kid, a hardworking student, a loyal friend. And yet she was right where she was. In the middle of a courtroom, magically bound to a chair, in front of her the Wizengamot. She didn’t belong there and yet she felt guilt heavy on her shoulders.

James’, Lily’s and Peter’s deaths, Sirius’s and then her arrest felt like they happened years ago, in another life, but she knew they had only happened a months. Her friends…they were all dead, or worse.

“And I know what everybody in this room is thinking right now: Why? Why would a young witch do something as horrible as this. And the answer…the answer is simple, ladies and gentlemen, out of love.”

Sirius. They were trying to blame this on him as well?

“Miss Carter”, Crouch looked at Hailey: “You have the word.”

“Thank you, Mister Crouch”, Hailey nodded in his direction and got up with an almost unrecognizable sigh. Y/N knew how nervous she was. This was only her second trial, but she had fought so hard to even get her a trial, although everybody already seemed sure about the outcome. It was hopeless.

“First of all”, Hailey shrugged and casually leaned against the chair Y/N was sitting on: “Mister Crouch, you were wrong. Not everybody in this room was thinking what you pointed out mere seconds ago, because the question I have been asking myself ever since my client got arrested is: Why now? My client got arrested on the third of November 1971, a month ago, but the crime she is being accused of happened more than a year before that. So, I’ve been wondering…why not earlier? ...And then I knew the answer to it, because you never had the slightest evidence, you never had and you still don’t. My client, a young witch who never did anybody any harm, is suddenly accused of killing not only one person, but seven with a curse so dark, I bet, not even you as the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement would know how to successfully perform it. How should a twenty year old witch do it then? This entire trial is ridiculous! There is no proof and my client is innocent!”

“So what you are saying Miss Carter is that your client, Miss Y/F/N, never would have been able to evoke a Fiendfyre? That she is lacking the skill to do so? Miss Y/FN, are you supporting this statement?” But before she was able to answer Hailey said: “Of course she does!”

“Why don’t we ask someone who could give us a more competent opinion on this. I call Professor Filius Flitwick to the witness stand.”

Hailey stepped aside as the small figure of Professor Filius Flitwick entered the courtroom. His hesitant steps echoed off the black marble walls, each one punctuating the rising tension in the room. Y/N kept her gaze locked on her trembling hands, unable to meet the professor’s eyes. She had always admired him, had always seen him as more than a teacher—a guide, someone who had encouraged her love for magic before that love became an obsession.

Flitwick climbed into the witness stand, his expression betraying his reluctance. “Professor Flitwick,” Barty Crouch began, his voice sharp and cutting. “You were Miss Y/F/N’s teacher during her time at Hogwarts, correct?”

“Yes,” Flitwick replied, his voice soft but steady. “I taught her Charms throughout her seven years at the school.”

“And how would you describe her abilities?” Crouch leaned forward slightly, his sharp eyes narrowing.

Flitwick sighed, wringing his hands. “Y/N was… exceptional. She was one of the brightest students I’ve ever had the privilege of teaching. Talented, driven, and deeply curious. In her final years, she was the top of her class in Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms.”

A murmur rippled through the audience. Y/N’s heart clenched as she felt every word like a dagger in her chest. Her gaze flicked up for a brief moment, catching the face of someone she desperately wanted to avoid, seated in the audience. Her former friend’s face was a mask of cold contempt, and Y/N quickly looked away.

Crouch’s lips curled into a slight smile. “A prodigy, then. Surely, someone with such talent would have the knowledge and skill to perform a curse as advanced as Fiendfyre?”

Hailey interjected, her voice calm but firm. “Professor Flitwick, in your opinion, would my client ever have been interested in such magic?”

Flitwick hesitated, his small hands gripping the edge of the stand. “Not at first,” he admitted, his voice laced with sadness. “Y/N had always been eager to learn, but in her last year, I noticed… a change.”

“What kind of change?” Crouch prompted.

“She became distant, withdrawn. One day, I discovered a forbidden book in her possession. A text on the Dark Arts. I confiscated it, of course, but… she was different after that. She looked tired, as if something was draining her. She seemed... lost.”

Y/N closed her eyes, memories flooding her mind. The long nights pouring over that book in the Room of Requirement. The allure of knowledge so forbidden it felt intoxicating. How she had used the Marauder’s Map and Sirius’s Invisibility Cloak to sneak into the restricted section. Her thirst for understanding had felt insatiable, but it was never meant to harm anyone. It was for knowledge, for power over her own destiny, not for destruction.

“Professor,” Crouch’s voice broke through her thoughts, “do you believe Miss Y/F/N was capable of summoning Fiendfyre?”

Flitwick’s face crumpled, and he looked directly at Y/N for the first time. She finally met his eyes, pleading silently. But she knew the answer before he spoke.

“I do,” he said softly, the words falling like a death knell. The room erupted in gasps and whispers, but all Y/N could hear was the pounding of her own heart. Flitwick turned to her, his face etched with regret. “I’m sorry,” he said.

The words felt heavier than the chains binding her to the chair. For the first time, Y/N felt tears prick her eyes, but she forced them back. Her voice—her defense—felt smaller than ever.

Hailey stepped forward again, her tone sharp. “Professor Flitwick, isn’t it also true that Y/N excelled in all forms of magic, not just the Dark Arts? That she showed immense skill in protective spells and healing charms? Skills that contradict the accusation that she would ever commit such heinous acts?”

Flitwick nodded, but his earlier words hung in the air like a specter. The damage had been done.

As Professor Flitwick stepped down from the witness stand, the tension in the room seemed to coil tighter around Y/N’s chest. Her breath hitched, and a cold shiver ran down her spine. She knew who was next.

Her mother.

They hadn’t spoken in months—since her arrest, since everything fell apart. But even before that, the rift between them had widened, starting the day her sister was killed. The guilt was unbearable. Her younger sister, bright and determined, had followed Y/N’s footsteps into the Order of the Phoenix. It was unusual for purebloods, but their family had stood firmly on the right side of this war. Her parents had been proud.

Then came the mission with Marlene McKinnon.

The night she didn’t return.

The news had shattered their family. Y/N had stopped going home after that, unable to face her parents. She had joined the Order first, after all, and without her, maybe her sister wouldn’t have followed. Maybe she’d still be alive.

A rustle of movement brought her back to the present. Her mother stepped into the witness stand, her robes slightly askew, her face pale and drawn. Y/N didn’t dare lift her eyes to meet her mother’s. She couldn’t bear to see the grief, or worse, the doubt.

“Please state your name,” Barty Crouch instructed, his tone professional but with an edge of impatience.

“Y/M/N Y/L/N,” her mother said, her voice trembling slightly.

Crouch nodded. “Mrs. Y/L/N, you are the mother of the accused. Can you tell us what you know about your daughter’s allegiances?”

Her mother took a deep breath, glancing briefly at Y/N before looking out over the courtroom. “For what I knew… my daughter joined the Order of the Phoenix with good intentions. She wanted to fight against You-Know-Who and protect those who couldn’t protect themselves. When her friends had asked her to join them in the order, she had been excited!”

A murmur rippled through the audience, but it was quickly silenced by a sharp look from Crouch. He stepped forward, clasping his hands behind his back. “Which friends are we talking about?”

“James Potter, Sirius Black-” Gasps echoed through the room.

“Good intentions, you say. But do you have any evidence to support this claim?”

Her mother hesitated, her lips parting as if to speak, but no words came. Finally, her shoulders slumped, and she shook her head. “No. I don’t.”

Tears welled in her mother’s eyes, and her voice cracked as she continued. “But I know my daughter. I know she couldn’t—she wouldn’t—do something so… so monstrous. I don’t believe it. I can’t believe it.”

Crouch pounced. “When was the last time you spoke with your daughter, Mrs. Y/L/N?”

“Months ago,” her mother admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “After her sister’s death… it became too painful to—”

“And did you notice changes in her behavior?” Crouch interrupted, his tone cutting. “Did she seem… different?”

“Yes,” her mother said reluctantly. “But the war has changed all of us. It’s taken so much from us. Her sister’s death…” Her voice broke. “It broke her.”

“And what about her relationship with Sirius Black?” Crouch pressed. “How would you describe it?”

Her mother seemed taken aback by the question but answered after a pause. “Strong. Impulsive. She loved him deeply, perhaps obsessively, as young people often do at that age.”

“Could he have influenced her?” Crouch asked sharply.

“No!” Her mother’s response was immediate, almost panicked. “I don’t believe he would ever…”

But Crouch wasn’t finished. “Didn’t you just say that your daughter wouldn’t have joined the Order of the Phoenix if not for Sirius Black?”

Her mother’s eyes widened, realizing her mistake too late. “I—yes, but—”

“Thank you, Mrs. Y/L/N,” Crouch cut her off, his tone triumphant. “You’ve made your position clear. If Sirius Black could influence her to join the Order, who’s to say he couldn’t influence her to commit darker acts? Perhaps their loyalty to You-Know-Who was simply well-concealed, a strategy to infiltrate and betray.”

“That’s not true!” her mother cried, tears streaming down her face. “She’s innocent! She would never—she couldn’t—” Her voice broke completely, and she looked at Y/N, desperation in her eyes. “I’ll get you out of this,” she promised, her voice trembling. “I know you’re innocent, sweetheart. I know.”

Y/N couldn’t look at her. Her mother’s words cut deeper than any accusation. Innocent. The word felt like a stone in her chest, because she wasn’t sure it was true. She had never intended to hurt anyone, never wanted to stray so close to the darkness. But her thirst for knowledge, her reckless love for Sirius—they had all led her here, to this chair, with her prisoner number inked into her skin like a brand.

And for the first time, she wondered if maybe she did belong here.

Arabella McKinnon walked into the witness stand with a presence that silenced the room. Her grief was palpable, etched into her features like a permanent scar. She knew Arabella’s job today wasn’t to present facts—it was to stir emotions, to make sure no one left this courtroom doubting who the villain was.

Arabella spoke with a quiet dignity at first, her voice steady but heavy with sorrow. She described the McKinnons—their warmth, their bravery, the way Marlene had laughed so easily, even in the darkest of times. She described the children, their lives snuffed out before they had even truly begun. Her words painted vivid, haunting images, and the room hung on every syllable.

“They were everything to me,” Arabella said, her voice breaking. “And they died screaming. My family burned alive because someone—because she”—her trembling hand pointed directly at Y/N—“decided they didn’t deserve to live.”

A sob erupted somewhere in the audience, and Y/N felt like the floor beneath her chair was crumbling. She wanted to scream, to deny it, but the words wouldn’t come. Her throat felt like it was closing, the air in the room thick and suffocating.

“And for what?” Arabella continued, her voice rising. “For power? For loyalty to that… that monster? You knew them, Y/N! You knew them, and you did it anyway!”

“I didn’t—” Y/N began to whisper, but Arabella cut her off, her grief giving way to fury.

“Don’t you dare speak!” Arabella’s voice cracked like a whip. “You don’t get to sit there and pretend you’re innocent. You deserve Azkaban. You deserve to rot there for the rest of your miserable life, with nothing but the screams of my family to keep you company!”

The courtroom erupted into chaos. Shouts and murmurs filled the air, but all Y/N could hear were Arabella’s words, echoing like a curse in her mind. Her stomach twisted painfully, nausea clawing its way up her throat. She tried to suppress it, to hold herself together, but the pressure was unbearable. As Arabella was escorted out of the courtroom, still sobbing and shouting curses at her, Y/N doubled over.

She barely managed to turn her head before she vomited onto the cold marble floor next to her chair. The bile burned her throat, but it was nothing compared to the searing pain in her chest. She stayed hunched over, her hair falling in a curtain around her face, trying to catch her breath as tears streamed down her cheeks. The courtroom was silent now, save for the faint echoes of her retching.

Her gaze, blurry and unfocused, drifted upward, searching the crowded bleachers. She was looking for one face. One pair of eyes. She found them, but the expression she saw was ice cold. No sympathy, no compassion.

Her former friend stared down at her, and Y/N’s heart shattered all over again. The words they had once exchanged, years ago, came rushing back with painful clarity.

“We may fight for different sides, but I’ll never betray you, Y/N. You’ll never find a dagger in your back held by me.”

The promise had been made in the shadow of their diverging choices, shaped as much by the war as by the men they loved—Sirius and Rabastan. But now, it felt hollow, broken. Y/N dropped her gaze to the chains on her wrists, unable to bear the emptiness in her friend’s eyes.

She wasn’t sure what hurt more: Arabella’s fury or the silence of someone she had once called a sister.

As Hailey stood to cross-examine Arabella’s devastating testimony, Y/N could feel the weight of hopelessness settling deeper into her chest. Her defender was determined, her voice steady as she tried to redirect the courtroom’s focus. But it was no use. The emotions stirred by Arabella’s words hung in the air like smoke, suffocating any attempt to shift the narrative. The damage was done.

Hailey returned to her seat, her hands clenched tightly, and for the first time, Y/N saw doubt flicker in her eyes. There was no saving this. The audience murmured restlessly as Barty Crouch called the next witness.

“Alastor Moody.”

The sound of Moody’s wooden leg hitting the marble floor was loud, deliberate, as he approached the stand. Each step sent another dagger of dread into Y/N’s gut. She knew Moody would bury her. He’d never trusted her, not from the moment she joined the Order. A pureblood with ties to the Black family, the Lestranges? To him, she was a walking liability. What would he say now that Sirius and her had both been arrested? The thought that Sirius was being dragged through the mud, even in her trial, made her feel sick all over again. She clung to the belief that Sirius’s trial, whenever it came, would vindicate him. She knew him better than anyone—it simply didn’t make sense that he’d betray James and Lily.

“State your name and occupation,” Crouch said as Moody settled into the stand.

“Alastor Moody. Auror,” he replied, his magical eye spinning wildly, taking in every corner of the room. When it passed over Y/N, she felt as though her soul was being laid bare.

“Mr. Moody,” Crouch began, “you’ve known the accused for some time, haven’t you?”

“I have,” Moody said gruffly. “Worked with her in the Order of the Phoenix.”

“And what was your impression of her?”

Moody’s lips curled into something between a grimace and a smirk. “I never fully trusted her,” he said bluntly. “She’s got the bloodline, the connections, and that… feeling about her. You’ve been an Auror as long as I have, you start to recognize it. The way the Dark Arts cling to someone.”

Y/N’s heart sank. She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as she avoided looking at the audience. She didn’t need to see their faces to know what they were thinking.

“Interesting,” Crouch said, leaning forward slightly. “And what do you mean by this… ‘feeling’?”

Moody gave a sharp laugh. “Dark magic leaves traces. Most people can’t sense it, but after years of chasing dark wizards, you learn to pick up on it. And with Y/N, it’s always been there. A subtle hum, like static in the air.”

Crouch raised an eyebrow. “Fascinating. And yet, you worked alongside her?”

Moody shrugged. “I liked her sister well enough. She had a good heart, didn’t deserve what happened to her. But Y/N… I kept my guard up.”

Y/N stared at the floor, her mind racing. Where is Dumbledore? she thought bitterly. He had promised to protect her, to protect all of them when they joined the Order. But now, with everything falling apart, he was nowhere to be seen. He hadn’t been there for Sirius either, leaving him to rot in Azkaban. What had been the point of their loyalty if it was only met with abandonment?

Crouch continued. “Mr. Moody, have you ever witnessed the accused using dark magic?”

Moody hesitated, just for a moment, before nodding. “I have. In battle. It was during a skirmish with Death Eaters. She used spells that were… questionable.”

Y/N closed her eyes, her chest tightening. I only ever used it to protect my friends. The memory flashed before her eyes: spells cast in desperation, the heat of battle, the need to keep her friends alive. She thanked whatever shred of luck she had left that Moody hadn’t been there the one time she had crossed the line entirely.

The Imperius Curse.

She could still remember the way it had felt—the surge of power, the absolute control. She had forced three Death Eaters to their knees, stopping them from killing Lily. The effort had drained her so completely she had nearly passed out, but for a brief moment, she had felt pride. That single act, if anyone had seen it, would have been enough to condemn her to Azkaban without trial.

“And what do you make of her capabilities, Mr. Moody?” Crouch asked, his voice sharp. “Do you believe she is capable of casting Fiendfyre?”

Moody didn’t answer immediately. His magical eye swiveled to Y/N again, and she felt like it was peeling back every layer of her being. “Aye,” he said finally. “She’s capable. Doesn’t mean she did it, but the skill’s there.”

It was the final nail in the coffin, and Y/N knew it. She didn’t even flinch as he stepped down from the stand. Her thoughts were elsewhere, drowning in regret and anger.

I did what I had to do, she told herself, but the weight of her choices felt heavier with each passing second. And still, she couldn’t shake the question echoing in her mind: Where is Dumbledore?

As Rabastan Lestrange strode to the witness stand, his smirk alone was enough to send a chill down Y/N’s spine. He looked far too composed for someone who had been convicted of his own heinous crimes. Y/N couldn’t understand why they had brought him here. What could he possibly add?

She gripped the arms of her chair tightly, her fingers digging into the wood. Her gaze darted briefly to the audience, scanning for her former friend, Rabastan’s wife, and found her sitting stiffly among the crowd. Their eyes didn’t meet.

The courtroom fell silent as Crouch began the questioning. “State your name and affiliation.”

“Rabastan Lestrange,” he said smoothly, leaning back in the witness chair. “A convicted servant of the Dark Lord.”

There were murmurs from the audience, but Rabastan seemed to bask in the attention. His dark eyes flicked to Y/N, glinting with malice.

“You’ve claimed to have knowledge of the accused’s activities. Please, enlighten us,” Crouch said, his tone cold.

Rabastan chuckled. “Oh, I know more than a little about Y/N Y/L/N. She and her beloved Sirius Black were always slippery, but I’ve seen through their charade from the start. Working for the Order of the Phoenix? No, no, they were playing both sides, working for the Dark Lord all along.”

Y/N’s head shot up, her chest tightening. “He’s lying!” she shouted, her voice cracking, but Rabastan barely flinched.

Crouch raised a hand to silence her. “The accused will remain quiet unless addressed.”

Rabastan leaned forward, speaking directly to the Wizengamot. “I’ve seen her wield the Dark Arts like a master. I was there the night the McKinnons died. She was wild with rage, casting Fiendfyre like it was second nature. Enjoyed every moment of it, too.”

Y/N’s vision blurred as her pulse thundered in her ears. “That’s not true!” she cried, her voice breaking.

Rabastan ignored her, smiling cruelly. “I even offered her that place among us. Told her the Dark Lord would appreciate her talents. She was delighted?”

Y/N felt bile rising in her throat. The sheer audacity of his lies was almost unbearable. It was true, he had offered her said place, but she had declined. She had hated him from the start—hated everything he and his kind stood for. But she had stayed silent about his crimes, out of a twisted sense of loyalty to his wife. A loyalty that now felt painfully one-sided.

Her eyes flicked to her former friend. She sat motionless, her face unreadable. Y/N wanted to scream at her, to demand how she could just sit there and let this happen. Her for him. Every time.

When Rabastan spoke again, his voice was almost gleeful. “I saw her kill them all.”

Y/N froze. Her heart dropped into her stomach. It was a lie, twisted and reframed, but it wasn’t entirely baseless. There had been a moment—a stupid, reckless moment during one of her secret meetings with her friend—when she had spoken too much, blinded by grief.

Rabastan’s grin widened. “She’s been playing everyone from the start.”

“I’m not a murderer!” Y/N screamed, tears streaming down her face now. “You’re lying! You’re all lying!”

Hailey stood abruptly, her voice trembling with barely contained anger. “This is ridiculous! These are baseless accusations from a convicted Death Eater. If he’s so certain, let’s prove it.”

There was a beat of silence before Hailey said the words Y/N had been dreading.

“We request the use of Veritaserum.”

Gasps echoed through the courtroom. Even Rabastan’s smirk faltered slightly.

Crouch raised an eyebrow. “A bold request. The accused will need to consent.”

Y/N’s hands trembled as she clutched the arms of her chair. She knew the truth wouldn’t completely exonerate her. The things she had done—the spells she had cast—would seal her fate, even if she hadn’t killed the McKinnons.

But what choice did she have?

Her voice was barely a whisper as she said, “I consent.”

The room fell silent. It was over. One way or another, it was over.

The vial of Veritaserum sat glinting on the prosecutor's desk, the liquid inside swirling like molten silver. Y/N stared at it for a moment, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew what it would do. It would lay her soul bare, tear away every veil of secrecy she had ever crafted. And there were things—truths—that could never see the light of day.

With trembling hands, she lifted the vial to her lips. It tasted bitter and metallic as it slid down her throat. Almost instantly, she felt its effects—a strange, floating sensation, as though her mind had been disconnected from her body. She fought the pull, digging deep into her resolve. You can’t lie. But maybe, just maybe, you can choose how much you reveal.

“Miss Y/L/N,” Crouch began, his voice sharp and eager, “did you kill Marlene McKinnon and her family?”

The words struck like a physical blow, but she didn’t flinch. Her gaze darted to her former friend in the bleachers. There was no sympathy in her eyes, no shared history, no bond of trust. Nothing but cold detachment.

Y/N’s mind reeled back to that moment—the fateful conversation with her friend. She had been blinded by grief, suffocated by rage. Marlene McKinnon, her sister’s partner on that doomed mission, had survived. Her sister had not. That bitterness, the unjust cruelty of it all, had spilled out.

“Do you think Marlene deserves to die too?” her friend had asked softly. A simple question, laden with dark implications.

And Y/N, angry and lost, had nodded. Just a single, damning gesture.

She didn’t have to say it aloud to know what would happen next. Her friend had treated it like a gift—an act of warped kindness, an answer to Y/N’s unspoken grief.

But did that make her the killer?

“I didn’t cast the fire,” Y/N said at last, her voice steady but hollow. It wasn’t a lie. But it wasn’t the whole truth either.

The courtroom held its collective breath. Crouch’s lips curled into a predatory smile. “Then who did?”

Y/N hesitated, the weight of the serum pressing on her, demanding an answer. She looked directly at her former friend, whose face betrayed no emotion.

“I believe it was Rabastan Lestrange who killed Marlene,” Y/N said. Her voice rang out clearly, each word deliberate.

Murmurs rippled through the audience, but Y/N didn’t care. She couldn’t look away from her friend. The betrayal cut deeper than any spell, deeper than the scars she carried.

“Have you ever cast Fiendfyre?” Crouch pressed, his voice rising with impatience.

“I’ve never cast it,” Y/N replied, and it was the truth.

Crouch’s frustration was palpable now. He paced before her, searching for a crack in her armor. “Have you done anything that could send you to Azkaban?”

Y/N’s heart thundered. She thought of the curses she’d used, the lines she had crossed to save her friends, her loyalty that had tied her hands and sealed her fate time and again. She could feel the truth clawing its way to the surface. But with the last vestiges of her will, she clung to one thought: He has to accuse me first. Don’t give him the power to condemn you.

Her voice was quiet but firm as she replied, “You will have to accuse me of a crime first if you want to convict me.”

For a long moment, silence hung heavy in the air. Crouch’s face twisted with anger and frustration. He knew he had lost.

Finally, he turned to the Wizengamot. “There is insufficient evidence to convict the accused of this crime. I am forced to call a verdict of not guilty.”

The words echoed in the chamber, and for a fleeting moment, Y/N felt a wave of relief. The chains binding her to the chair vanished, clattering to the ground.

But as she rose shakily to her feet, that relief turned to bitterness. The cheers from her lawyer, the gasps from the crowd, none of it mattered. James and Lily were gone. Peter was gone. Remus thought her a traitor, just like Sirius. And Sirius...

Sirius was in Azkaban. Alone, broken, abandoned, just as she had been.

She turned to leave the courtroom, her gaze falling once more on her friend in the bleachers. No words passed between them, but the message was clear. They were strangers now. Whatever bond they had shared was gone.

The freedom she had just won felt hollow. What was the point of any of it if she couldn’t save the people who mattered? If she couldn’t get Sirius out of that hellhole, what did this verdict even mean?

As she stepped into the cold air outside the Ministry, her prisoner number still etched on her arm, Y/N made a silent vow. If the world had given up on Sirius, then she would be the one to bring him back.

MASTERLIST

#the marauders #marauders #sirius black #sirius black x reader #angst #harry potter universe #your trial #imagine #james potter #lily evans #reader insert #death eaters #order of the phoenix #mad eye moody #bad or good?#morally grey characters #morally grey reader #powerful reader

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iheartmoons · 2 years ago

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goblet of fire barty is giving:

I'm sorry But the old [Barty] can't come to the phone right now Why? Oh, 'cause she's dead (oh)

oh and also

I'll be the actress starring in your bad dreams

#just imagine it with the melody of the song #imagine it please go on do it #barty crouch jr #rosekiller #bartylus #goblet of fire #mad eye moody #the marauders #taylor swift #reputation

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threefandomsinatrenchcoat · 2 years ago

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When Dumbledore chose Moody to guard Potter's "home", he probably did so expecting the man to ignore the abuse going on. Instead, Moody takes the little kid under his wing and makes life at Privet Drive a bit easier on him.

#harry potter #mad eye moody #writing inspiration #fluff #child abuse #Moody does not vibe with child abuse #he's probably also very overwhelmed with taking care of a kid #but god damn him if he won't help Harry #imagine the menace Harry could become #he would terrorize Draco #Moody would probably start shit with Snape #possibly also Dumbledore #fuck jkr #make fanworks because they're a way to enjoy the world without somehow paying her

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dixonsgirl93 · 1 year ago

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This is why I write for Merle Dixon and Mad Eye Moody.There are others out there who love them as much as me.

I see you. I’ll write for you

write fanfic that three people in the world will read, because those three people are going to be fucking pleased that it exists

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suuooe · 7 months ago

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-- Touch deprived boys

✧ or: touch- or not so touch deprived wind breaker boys ✧ featuring: Sakura Haruka, Suo Hayato, Umemiya Hajime, Hiragi Toma & Kaji Ren x gn!reader [separate] ✧ content: established relationship & fluff ✧ a/n: i dropped one suo fic and got busy the same week and fell ill the next week lmfao. hiragi may be a bit ooc - ya know when you know how the characters act and how they are in theory, but can't articulate that in your works? yeah. yeah. this is not proofread we post this without beta-reading like real men.

Sakura doesn't register the feeling at first. To be more precise, he doesn't know what the feeling is at all when it first appears.

I imagine Sakura having a significant other that's the polar opposite to him when it comes to physical touch - as in they would 100% at any given moment when they're together hold any part of Sakura that they come in contact with. (This boy cannot for the life of him shake off anyone he deems close away, grab his hand and lead him on and he will 100% complain the entire way, but he'll never shake off your hand)

Which means that ever since he did start to date you, he wouldn't even know the meaning of what touch deprivation even is - because not a day goes by when you're not touching him some part of him.

So when a day actually comes when you're not holding onto him, he feels genuinely put off. Something is wrong, but he can't put his finger on it. And oh boy does that clearly show on his face. Sakura is after all - an open book when it comes to his feelings.

He's moody, he doesn't snap and yell like usual - but he only mutters answers back whenever someone asks him something. Even to you - if anything, you would think he's mad at you. He's fidgeting with his hands, tugging at his sleeves and averting his gaze from you whenever you ask if he's okay.

He's an open book yeah, but he won't say a damn thing - pride and all.

It'll most likely be in a scenario where you're surrounded by more people than usual that you hold back a bit on showing affection. But still, you're mostly by his side, talking to him, handing him drinks and heck your shoulders brush against each other every time you laugh at something his classmate had said - you're that close to him.

And yet it feels wrong.

"Oh, Haruka your drink is empty. Want me to go grab another one?" you're not even waiting for an answer before you lean away from the wall behind you to head towards the refreshments table on the other side of the rooftop.

It's only when your presence once again leaves his side that Sakura springs into action, reaching out to barely grasp the fabric of your shirt to hold you slightly back. Puzzled, you turn around with a confused smile, only to be met with an equally confused, but frantic stare from your lover. "Everything okay, Haruka?" you ask again, ignoring the fact that Haruka's gaze is looking all over the place but at your own face.

"Y-yeah, why wouldn't it be?" although he says that, his hand is still grasping onto your shirt. A few seconds go by in silence before you feel a slight tug against them - and suddenly every dot in your confused brain starts to connect on his bizarre behaviour today.

Your eyes soften, and Sakura can hear your quiet chuckle when you turn around to face him, forcing his fingers to let go. But before he can ask what you're laughing about, he can feel himself being pulled into a hug, and he can feel your smile against his shoulders as you pat his back comfortably. "You're so cute, Haruka." he can hear you say through your quiet giggles.

You can hear a quiet "Shut up…" from him, but you can feel the way his posture drastically softens under your hug. But before your duo-coloured lover could wrap his arms around your waist, you hear a low whistle coming from behind you. "Naaw, Sakura-kun was missing [Name]'s touch for the day."

And in an instant you're yanked (gently) away by an arms length with Sakura yelling profanities at a laughing Suo. Well at least he's back to normal.

Suo's never "deprived" per say of your touch - because he's the one initiating it 90% of the time.

He's already physically affectionate. He's usually seen having an arm around your waist when you're peering at something, holding your hand when the two of you go for a walk or leaning over you when you're standing still to rest his chin on top of your head (if you're shorter, if not he'll bury his face into the crook of your neck).

And while you don't mind (in fact often times you lean most of your weight on him if he's standing behind you once you feel his presence) Suo does want you to initiate contact once in a while.

But alas those feelings is rarely shown on his face, always sporting a neutral smile to any situation he's put in - no one can tell that he's a bit more troubled than usual.

But what kind of lover would you be, if you weren't able to spot these miniscule changes in Suo? When he now only briefly holds onto your waist to silently announce his presence beside you before retracting his arm back and when he waits for your fingers to graze against his own before he tangles them together?

You do notice, and Suo also knows you've noticed the slight difference in your otherwise normal habits. How you peer up at him a bit longer than usual when he decides to sit next to you in the library instead of behind you like he usually does so you can rest against him. But he only gives you a wide smile in return to your confused glance.

"You know-" you say with a start, seating yourself down on Suo's lap the moment he seats himself down properly on the tatami floor of his room, your lover only wrapping an arm around your back to make sure you don't topple over. "This is a very elaborate way to tell me you want me to initiate physical contact more often."

"Hmm? Whatever do you mean?" he feigns ignorance, merely tilting his head slightly to the side when you twirl your fingers around the tassels of his left earring whilst resting your head against his shoulder. "Why can't you just ask like any other person for a hug or something?" you question.

"That wouldn't be fun. I wanted to see if you loved the physical touch as much as me, after all." he says, and you raise your eyebrow in confusion, "Me not reciprocating your touches was not an answer?" you inquire, raising your head to stare at him, Suo only giving you a smile that seems a bit too mischievous back while shaking his head.

"Initiating and reciprocating are two different things, dear. Initiating takes a lot more courage after all." you only hum in return, resting your head back on his shoulder before taking a hold of his hand to toy with his fingers, bending the appendages while admiring how smooth his skin was - even with all the fighting he does. "I like it when you initiate contact first though…" you murmur in the end. Suo, who had initially thought you had put the matter of his impromptu idea to the side hums in surprise at your quiet confession.

"Why?"

You shrug, deciding to intertwine your fingers together before resting them on your own lap, smiling softly at how Suo's thumb brush against the skin of your hand. "I don't know either. I just know that it's you whenever someone takes a hold of my hand, you do have the habit of grazing your fingers against mine before holding them after all. It's almost like your way of saying hello before we even make eye contact." you tell, "You always reach out for my hand first after all."

You're not staring at him, still busy looking at your clasped hands - but he still smiles down at your form, turning his head to press his lips on top of your head. "Well with such a sweet reason, who am I to not initiate it more then, hmm?"

He makes it known that he wants your touch before you can even tell he's deprived.

Which means he's never deprived, because when Umemiya feels that he needs a hug, he's making a beeline towards you to engulf you in his arms.

Which means there are two outcomes to this. If you're within his sights and he sees you as soon as he wants a hug, everything is A-OK! Umemiya gets his well needed hug to tackle the next set of duties and tasks he has set for himself for the next 3 hours.

If you're not in his arms within the next 10 minutes of him wanting a hug, he's going to talk to his plants like you've gone off to war and won't come back before the next year. Talking about how much he misses your presence, your favourite food, what kind of seed you would probably prefer, how he's found a new book that you love. At this point feel sorry for the person that has to sit through those 10 minutes of constant love declarations. (Hiragi)

And yes, Hiragi has you on speed dial because of this. It does not matter that you've recently been up on the rooftop spending time with him, it does not matter if you've just gone downtown to get some drinks - Hiragi does not get paid enough for this and he will personally escort you back to Bofurin's leader to make him shut up.

You better clear your schedule for the next hour because Umemiya will have you in his arms before making sure you're well fed and spend time with you. He doesn't necessarily have to constantly touch you then - if he can see you within his vision he's already beaming brighter than the sun in the sky.

"Hajime, you're about to squeeze my entire air supply out." you manage to wheeze out while laughing, Umemiya merely burying his face further into your hair while swinging you back and forth in the air.

"You could've told me that you were going to go shop for groceries for Kotoha! I would've helped." he exclaimed whilst putting your down on the ground again, though his arms were still snugly wrapped around your waist and still keeping you pressed against his front. Your own arms around his back when you noticed that he wouldn't budge from this position anytime soon.

"Last time you helped out, you crushed 2 dozens eggs remember? The townsfolk love you too much too, we would've needed more hands if you came along because of the amount of freebies they would give you. Besides she just wanted a few things and I was already out when she asked where I was, so it wasn't too much trouble to make another round through the town." you replied, stepping side to side while pushing yourself against Umemiya, a silent request for him to move backwards towards the wooden canopy so you both could sit down.

Once seated, you find yourself placed on top of Umemiya's lap with his arms still snugly wrapped around your waist, securing your body close to his own when you lean backwards to properly look at him while talking. At this point Umemiya has gone off tangent, eyes brimming with excitement over what had happened on the day you had mentioned the crushed eggs, only stopping his tangent when you bring a handkerchief up to his face to wipe away the dirt.

"… How long have you been in that position?" an exasperated gruff voice questions, and both you and Umemiya turn over to the entrance of the rooftop to see Hiragi leaning against the door.

"Hiragi! You want some water? Maybe some onigiri? Oh right, [Name] had also picked up some snacks!"

"It's been 15 minutes."

"Good grief, Umemiya, let [Name] go aleady, they're not your personal teddy bear."

Hiragi in general is not a physically affectionate person. He doesn't mind it, softens quite a bit when you grasp his hand whenever you join his group when they patrol the town and relaxes his posture while sinking further down the slope of the couch so that you can rest your head on his shoulder - even if the posture itself causes him a bit of discomfort after.

He's quite content just having you walk by his side - as long as he can see you from his peripheral vision or heck, just hear your voice speak from beside him or behind him, he's content.

He does however have his moments. Although it's incredibly hard to spot because Hiragi himself doesn't mind going days without getting a kiss even.

And even when you do initiate the first touch, he handles you like a porcelain doll - almost afraid you will break. You can hug him as tight as you can, he'll laugh and say he's not going to disappear anytime soon, but the hug you receive back is so gentle and full of love it almost brings you to tears alone.

Hiragi is aware of his position within Bofurin, and the fact that his name carries a lot of weight and is known beyond the town - as such he initiates the most contact when you're alone. And even that is a rare occurrence being that you're both busy most of the time.

As such, even though it's rare - Hiragi will show subtle signs that he wants to cradle you within his arms or hold your hand. A gentler gaze when he addresses you - a more carefree grin when you open your arms wide waiting for him to come to you, but even you can see the slight hesitation.

All in all, Hiragi is quite content and rarely gets touch deprived, but no one is immune to their lover asking for a quick hug, even when you yourself isn't much of a physically affectionate person.

"Can I have a hug? Please?" Hiragi blinks slowly in confusion, takes a look behind him before directing his attention to you. "… Did you have to ask me in a sketchy alleyway of all things?" he finally asks, which makes you laugh, hands still outstretched waiting for Hiragi to take the 2 steps to reach you.

"And here I thought I was going to get a lecture from dragging you away from patrolling." you say, now wriggling your fingers to emphasise your current need for a hug from your boyfriend. "Think of it like an energy boost for the day! I know you've been craving a hug from yours truly for a long time after all, it's been a while since your last recharge!" you add on, Hiragi quirking an eyebrow with a smile.

"You're keeping track of them now?" he scoffs, taking the two steps you desperately wanted him to take, reaching out his own hands to intertwine them with your own before holding onto your wrists to rest your arms on his shoulders. "Hehe, next time I should keep track on how many Gas-kun 10 you take." you can see the roll of his eyes as he wraps his arms around your waist while you lock your own arms around his neck, rubbing your face into his neck to breathe in the faint hint of cologne he dons each day.

The arms wrapped around your waist tightens a bit more than usual, and you can feel the stiffness of Hiragi's form loosen "You're on your lunch break?" he asks softly, to which you nod against his neck, "Mhm, have to go back within 10 minutes if I don't want my teacher to give me an earful again." he hums, giving you one last squeeze before stepping back.

He only pinches your puffed out cheeks, "Don't give me that look, I'll come pick you up after school okay? I think Umemiya misses talking to you as well." Upon hearing that, your eyes brighten immediately before skipping past him out of the alleyway, "Promise to not be late?"

"When have I ever been?"

Another boy who does not know how to function when he's touch deprived! But unlike Sakura, he does know when he is indeed needing for some more cuddles than normal.

But he's awkward, he doesn't know how to actually go on about asking for hugs. Yes in his mind it's logical to just straight up ask you for a hug, or if you can just sit in front of him so he can lean his forehead on the nape of your neck and just breathe in your fragrance. Very easy to do!

Easier said than done. Especially when he's the type to not do anything before you give him permission - yes he's still scared of hurting you even though when he's around you, he's fully in control of his emotions and reactions. But there's always a lingering feeling, you know?

Still jumps in surprise at times when you graze your fingers against any exposed part of his skin, but once he sees it's you - best believe he's holding onto you till someone calls him out.

He's more prone to initiate more contact when you're alone, being that in public he's prone to get teased (whether that's voluntarily by his classmates or involuntarily by Umemiya's comments on how soft he's gotten)

So as a compromise to his awkward self when you're in public, you'll get random visits from Kaji numerous times a week - which is a silent request to just have you in his arms.

Kaji's attention is taken away from his phone when he feels your fingers graze against his chin. Glancing down, he cocks his head to the side while pushing his headphones down to rest on the nape of his neck. "What's up?" he inquires softly, you don't say anything at first - merely directing your fingers towards his cheeks to graze against his skin there.

"Weren't you supposed to patrol today?" you ask, bringing your other free hand to push Kaji's hand that's holding onto his phone to your eye level. "In around 15 minutes yeah, I just left earlier." he answers, his fingers that were absentmindedly stroking your head grazing a few stray strands away from your forehead.

"It already takes 10 minutes from Furin to my house though? Shouldn't you leave soon?" you point out, but instead of rising from his lap to let him get up from the floor, you merely roll to your side to bury your face against his stomach before becoming still - leaving Kaji with both arms in the air, waiting for you to move.

"If you let me go, that is." he finally says after a second of silence, he can feel your slight nod before you plant your hands beside him to heave yourself up from his lap. And in the blink of an eye, you're at eye level with Kaji - his breath hitching at the close proximity.

"Don't come back with too many bruises, alright?" you remind, before slotting your lips briefly over his own. As you lean back you pull his headphones snugly over his ears again, mouthing something that makes Kaji roll his eyes. "You still let me inside regardless, so that threat doesn't work anymore."

#wind breaker #wind breaker x reader #haruka sakura x reader #suo hayato x reader #ren kaji x reader #hiragi toma x reader #umemiya hajime x reader

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northlt03 · 8 months ago

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Ik we're all sad and gay and love angsty fics. BUT imagine an au where all the Slytherin skittles live and they all come back to Hogwarts in Harry's fourth year for various reasons EXCEPT they don't know the others are alive and also polyjuiced.

JUST IMAGINE THE CHAOS

Barty and Evan accidentally end up in the same room and Evan's trying to act normal. He's cosplaying some generic subject's teacher and actually tries to be a good teacher so he doesn't blow his cover. MEANWHILE MAD EYE MOODY OVER HERE IS LIKE YOOO I TURNED MY STUDENT INTO A FERRET DO YOU WANNA GET DRUNK WITH ME??

Pandora doesn't even try to act like anyone but herself. The students just think Sibyl Trelawney had a psychotic break or something. But this new Sibyl is so much better they don't even complain.

Regulus sends the Astronomy teacher some anonymous money so she takes a spontaneous trip and he takes her place. He does meticulous research on her, talks to all her family and not until he's absolutely sure that no one can tell he's not actually her, he goes to Hogwarts to look after Harry.

Dorcas straight up kidnaps Snape and puts him in a cupboard. Whenever people hear his cries for help she gives them homework and deducts points from Gryffindor, even if they're teachers.

Dorcas is the last to stay hidden, no one knows it's her pretending to be Snape until her potion wears off and she's like What the fuck, guys? You're all idiots

#marauders #regulus black #marauders era #dead gay wizards #the marauders #hogwarts #starchaser #harry potter #slytherin skittles #dorcas meadowes #pandora #evan rosier #barty crouch jr

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universaln0b0dy · 8 months ago

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Hello I was wondering if there can be a part two to Monster where the boys confront the reader about their overblot? You can ignore this if you to.

here we go!

(Aftermath of this: Monster

Summary: They saw what you're capable of and now you fear that they might hate you....

Note: angst n fluff (Leona, Floyd and Rook), very ooc- also I apologise if this isn't what you imagined or if it's too cringe. I finished writing this at three a.m.-

Leona:

You had tried your best to ignore the lion after the Overblot, the way he had fixated you while you were in your overblot form scared you. You decided to yeet your feelings for him in the trash and ignore him, so he wouldn't ask questions.

After a week of successfully avoiding the lion your lucky strike comes to an end and you found yourself in a kinda funny position. Trapped between his arms.

"Herbivore, why are you ignoring me?" Leonas tail flkvjed from one side to the other, hid green eyes staring into yours. Your poor heart was shattering into a thousand pieces as you realised he would question you about your monster form.

"Because I don't want to be questioned about my Overblot form. I can't explain it either." You mumble coldly, trying to free yourself out of his grasp, but Leona seems disappointed, like he wanted to hear something else. But the fleeting gaze was soon replaced by his usual grumpy frown.

"I don't care about that Overblot form of yours, I would just don't like being indebted to people." He snarles, moving both of his hands away from you. You could just make a fun for it, but you don't, so you decide to play abit obvious.

"What debt, there is no debt." You mutter, avoiding Leonas eyes. The male sighs. "You saved my life there, of course I am indebted to you." Something about the way he said that made you confused. Leona wasn't the type to admit he owed someone something, or come to that person to talk about said debt.

"How about I let you stay in my dorm over the winter. As far as I know Ramshackle can get very cold." You were about to slap yourself in order to check if you were dreaming or not.

"Are you sure? I don't think you would like a monster like me staying in your dorm." You mumble looking to the side, only to hear him chuckle.

"I have seen your Overblot form and let me tell you, your not a monster.... if I am honest you looked kinda hot."

"WHAT?"

Floyd:

"SHRIIIMPY~"

You had barely finished fighting Jamil and you most definitely weren't in the mood for explaining about your Overblot form. It made you uncomfortable how Azul and Jade looked at you, keeping their distance. You were exhausted and their judging gaze didn't help your case.

Floyd on the other hand had other plans. You should have expected this, he would be mad you kept such a big thing from him after all. You lean against a wall, breathing heavily. The eel stops right in front of you, looking at you with curiosity, but also a sour mood in his eyes.

"Why didn't you tell me you could willingly Overblot shrimpy?" Just as expected he sounded disappointed. You shrugged slightly, trying to keep your eyes open.

"I thought it would be better if I didn't tell anyone I was a monster." You mutter, leaning to the side. Floyd isn't content with that answer, as if he could sniff out the fact you were lying.

"That still doesn't explain why you didn't tell me shrimpy, I thought we had something special!" Hearing that takes you of guard and you look at him with tears. You were trying to fight them, but that didn't stop them from flowing.

"I'm sorry Floyd, you're right, I should have told you.... it was wrong of me to keep it just because.... I.... you.... stay.." you couldn't complete the sentence and your voice breaks in between. You were selfish, yes, Floyd was a moody eel and many people considered him a monster, but why should he be forced to continue to like one, just because you couldn't get your sorry ass to tell him about everything.

"I should have told you I was a monster, than you wouldn't have wasted your time on me." Floyds expression softens for a second and he pulls you into a hug.

"Dawww! Shrimpy! I still like you! You're still my shrimp, even once you are covered in ink!"

The only thing you can do is squeeze him back.

Rook:

Rook was eccentric and that was why he still liked you. There was a subtle shift in his behaviour after you had helped fight Vil, he stopped being overly entranced with Vil, going over to shower you in compliments. You didn't know how long that shift would last, but you enjoyed every second of it.

"Trickster! That was un suprise! You looked manifique!" You lean your head towards the side, cheecks burning with embarrassment. Vil eyed you both, smiling softly.

"I hope this will finally stop Rook from barging into my room just to talk about the fact that the prefect developed a new habit."

You heard Vil, luckily. If you hadn't you might would have expected Rook to just revert back to his old self, but this gave you hope, hope that you would be more than just his current intrest. You looked around, everyone seemed chill with the fact you just overblotted and turned back like it was nothing. It didn't matter that Rook was eccentric, you could always trust his gut feeling.

"Rook, are you sure that a monster like me looked... manifique?" You ask jokingly, Rook grasps his heart in an over dramatic motion. "Oui, oui! Mon dieu, If I ever hear you say something like that again I will make sure to cut you off before that sentence can get to your head!"

You chuckle a bit, before going back to serios. "No Rook, I really want you to know that it's okay if-"

You blink a few seconds trying to comprehend what just happened. Did Rook really just kiss you, or did you just imagine that? Your knees get wobbly, maybe because you were exhausted or because you were embarrassed, you didn't know.

"OMGWHYDIDYOUDOTHAT?" You manage to squeal and Rook chuckles. "I warned you trickster and mark my words I will do it again."

Vil, please get your hunter under control, the prefekts heart might explode if it has to endure this any longer.

#twisted wonderland #x reader #unistwistedwonderland #overblot #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader #rook hunt #rook hunt x reader #savanaclaw #octavinelle #oc tag #pomefiore

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abitchnamedtia · 8 months ago

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Alastor Moody as a dad would include

Infos : fluff

Warnings : none

I know, it's been a while. I'll try to post more, but I won't promise anything!

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- Him being scared that the baby would be scared as his scars.

Alastor is very insecure about it, because he knows how he looks. He can see people's stares. He knows that his scars can be repulsive and make him look scary.

But when he holds your child for the first time and see their smile, all his anxiety vanished

- Him being VERY protective towards you and your child. Even more protective than he is with you (you didn't even know that was possible).

Your house would be protected with every spells he knows.

And when your child will be older, he'll teach them self defense. Just to be a bit reassured when they go out without him.

- Him scared that his child could be bullied or targeted because of him.

Kids are cruel. Very cruel sometimes. He was so afraid that his reputation of a "mad man" will tarnish his child's reputation.

But when your child was in kindergarten, your child told his classmates that his dad was an auror and explaining that he was "fighting bad bad guys", all of them were in awe. At the end of that day, when Alastor came at the end of the day to take his child home, a herd of small child came to him to ask him questions about his work. He was surprised, but happy to answer it.

- Him loving them to death and spoiling them rotten. But still teaching them to be humble.

Almost every time that he goes to buy groceries, he'll buy a little something for them. And let's not talk about birthdays or Christmas... He blew up the budget every time. But he just wanted to make them happy, he couldn't help it !

-Him playing a lot with them. Tea time with the dolls ? Of course. Playing the villain for your kid to play the knight? Absolutely.

The sweetest thing you ever saw was him, sat on the ground at a small table with a tiny cup of tea in the hand with your child and a few dolls and stuffed toys. When you asked what was happening, he just answered "we are taking the tea, isn't it obvious?". ADORABLE.

And of course, he knows the dolls and stuffed toys' names by heart.

#harry potter imagine #harry potter #alastor x reader #alastor moody imagine #alastor moody #alastor moody x reader #mad eye moody x reader #mad eye moody imagine #mad eye x reader #mad eye moody

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dixonsgirl93 · 23 days ago

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The Scent of You

He couldn’t deny it any longer that your scent was all he could think about. The sweet vanilla in your perfume that permeated the air, surrounding him like a velvet blanket.

He could never admit it, that he loved sitting close to you in meetings or at dinner, that along with your perfume your smile lit up the room. Your eyes would twinkle in the candlelight while the smell of jasmine filled his nose.

He found you beautiful almost immediately upon meeting you but he had not expected the scent of you to impact him so. It was like his nose had been dulled for years and suddenly he could breathe again.

Being by your side felt like standing in a field of flowers with sunlight filtering gently through the trees. Your voice the gentle breeze that flowed throughout.

It was not just the perfumes you wore but also your essence beneath that. Something that was purely human, that drew him in equally. The combination was intoxicating.

He remembered one particular evening; you had even dressed up a little. A small amount of make-up. Just a hint of something different. You looked particularly amazing that night. Even your scent seemed a little darker, muskier, delectable.

He couldn’t keep his eyes off you. Your scent lingered wherever you went, like an old school cartoon that he felt compelled to float along behind you, following you anywhere, just to stay in your company longer.

It had felt like you couldn’t keep your eyes off him too, as they were on him each time he sought to steal a glance. You’d smile abashedly and look away, his heart singing at the sight. Beautiful, your smile was beautiful.

He had wanted to kiss you that night. The urge almost overtaking him when you sat beside him and invested in the conversation over the table. He could hardly concentrate on tactics and strategy, only the mauve of your lips, the smoothness of your back, the blush on your cheeks and the smell of sandalwood that came from you.

Loving someone was never simple. If someone asked why he loved you, he couldn’t answer. The truth was, it was a little bit of everything, all mixed together into a perfect concoction of humanity. He could find nothing he didn’t love, imperfections and all.

#mad eye moody #Alastor moody #mad eye moody x you #mad eye moody x reader #Alastor moody x you #Alastor moody x reader #mad eye moody fluff #mad eye moody Drabble #mad eye moody imagine #Alastor moody imagine

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frost-queen · 1 year ago

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Worshipped (Reader x Mattheo Riddle)

Requested by: Anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @elllie-does-the-posts, @alex--awesome--22 @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @imagines-by-her, @vviolynn, @melsunshine, @evilcr0ne, @callsignwidow, @whotfskai, @freddieweasleysgf, @untoldshortsofthefandoms

Summary: Reader is obessed with Mattheo's muscular and veiny arms that she folds like a paper for him.

“Oh yeah!” – Lorenzo outed giving Theodore a low five at the sight of the long dueling platform. – “Now this is going to be fun.” – he followed his friends to a corner of the classroom. Lorenzo glanced around the room recognizing Harry in the midst of it. – “Now that smile I’d like to wipe off his face.” – he elbowed Mattheo in the side with a wink. Mattheo rolled his eyes barely giving him a glance. – “Right?” – Lorenzo moved his attention to Theodore who wasn’t much of interaction too. He gave him a simple nod, before staring back at the office above.

Lorenzo gave up leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. – “Great.” – your friend said when entering the defense against the dark arts class. – “Just what I needed a duel class.” – she sighed out, rubbing her shoulders exhausted. – “You don’t think I can pass an excuse to Mad Eye for being incapable of participating due to a quidditch incident?” – you tugged her along on her sleeve passing past others to get a spot by the walls.

“You don’t play quidditch.” – you replied with a smile. – “I know.” – she whined out. You settled with her on the left side close to some Gryffindors and Slytherin girls. Your friend kept stressing out as you exhaled deep. – “Look you might not even have to duel. He can’t possibly let everyone duel within the span of his teaching hours.” – you concluded to offer some reassurance. – “You think so?” – she responded making you nod with a hum.

She exhaled relieved letting herself fall back against the wall. Across the duel platform she spotted Mattheo and his gang of friends. – “I bet they are eager to kick some ass.” – she whispered to you. – “Whoever is dueling against them will surely end up on the floor.” – she continued. You shrugged your shoulders. – “We might be surprised.” – you whispered back to her. From across the room you caught Mattheo’s glance making you quickly look away. The door shut startling a few closest to it.

From the top office emerged Mad Eye Moody. His wooden leg tapped loudly against the flooring as he made his way downstairs. His thick walking stick leaving a few dents in the stairs. His moving eye looked your way as it felt unsettling to you. He kept staring at you for a few seconds till he let his eye move to look at Harry. – “Class today is simple.” – he outed stepping in front of the dueling platform. An arm resting over his cane. – “Two of you duel against each other. Any spell is allowed.” – he said.

Draco nodded with a wide smirk, high fiving Lorenzo. Draco then looked over to Ron and Harry luring them out. Hermione whispered something to them. Probably to not let them get under their skin. – “So who wants to…” – Mad Eye started as Hermione’s arm shot up. – “Ah a volunteer.” – he said as Hermione shook her head. – “Professor I was just wondering when you said every spell. I’m sure you don’t mean the unforgivable curses as well. For that is forbidden.”

Mad Eye smiled and pointed at her. – “I even recommend it!” – he called out loud with a laugh. You looked at your friend thinking this isn’t such a good idea. Draco already slit his throat across the room to Harry and Ron. Hermione stuck her hand up again. – “Yes.” – Mad Eye sighed out. – “That is out of the question! Dumbledore would never allow such a thing! Do you wish to have the blood of your students on your hands!” – she called out not backing away from an argument. Mad Eye mimicked her words with childish muttering making you roll your eyes at him.

“My hands are clean.” – he joked showing her his hands. You exhaled deep raising your hand as well. – “Yes, you!” – he pointed out as almost everyone turned to look at you. – “Why don’t you offer yourself up as test subject?” – you said with an undertone full of attitude. Some boys around you were astonished by your bold words against the professor. – “I’m sure we’re all eager to learn from you. You could deflect such a spell can you not?” – you pouted your lips a bit to downsize him.

Mad Eye mumbled to himself with some annoyance. He then turned around to drink from a flask. Hermione sought out eye contact, giving you an approving nod to back her up. You nodded subtly back. This was no way to teach people to duel by killing each other. You had no dead wish and presumably many others had not as well. – “Fine no unforgivable curses!” – Mad Eye exclaimed rudely with a throw of his hand.

“Who’s up first?” – he called out as Lorenzo stuck his hand up along another boy. Mad Eye pointed at them, then to the platform for them to get on. They readied themselves as Mad Eye gave the signal to start. Spells flashed around as Lorenzo came out victorious. Two girls were up next as one of them got flung back, rolling over the edge. By the fourth duel had Lorenzo stuck up Mattheo’s arm. Mattheo gave him a cold stare for tossing him in the midst. Mattheo got on the platform, waiting in the middle for his opponent. – “Anyone?” – Mad Eye said as no one stepped forwards.

All afraid to duel against Mattheo. Exhaling soft, you stuck your hand up. – “Ah a volunteer!” – Mad Eye spoke as some students made way so he could see you. Mattheo turned to look at you with shock. Mad Eye smiled beyond himself. – “Oh just wonderful.” – he said as you smile sarcastically at him. A boy helped you up on the platform as you met up with Mattheo. – “I’ll go easy on you.” – he said eying you up and down.

You threw him a witty smile. – “Don’t hold yourself back.” – you answered. – “Okay.” – Mattheo replied with a nod. You turned round to head over to your side. Mattheo glanced over his shoulder back to you. – “Crush her!” – Lorenzo cheered at him. – “Easy win.” – Draco told him as it caught your ear. You rolled your eyes standing with your back at them.

You turned around at the same time as Mattheo. – “Ready your wands.” – Mad Eye said as you took in your position. – “Begin!” – he shouted as Mattheo hardened his gaze. – “Stupefy!” – he called out as you waved your wand around you, blocking his spell with protego. Blue swirled around you as it stopped his spell from reaching you. You smiled sweetly at Mattheo tightening your grip on your wand. He swallowed nervously when your expression got serious. – “Locomotor Mortis!” – you shouted as red flashes of magic came out of your wand. Mattheo’s legs got bound as he struggled to keep his balance.

“Levicorpus!” – you then shouted as Mattheo was just in time to deflect your spell with protego. Still bound he bend down trying to untie his legs. – “Expelliarmus!” – Mattheo’s wand got tossed out of his hand making him look up surprised. Now he was completely defenseless. – “Stupefy!” – you then said as Mattheo got hit in the chest getting flung over the platform dropping to the ground. Your friend erupted in loud cheering as many clapped loud for you. You untensed bowing for your audience.

Mattheo got back up looking over the platform to you as he couldn’t fully pull himself up anymore. He puffed with a smile that you had out done him. You got up with the help of your friend. Mattheo joined his friends, holding his hand against his stomach. Draco nudged him hard. Bickering with him that he lost from a girl. After you another pair went up as class was close to ending. Dismissed started everyone to leave the classroom. Your friend and you left class seeing Mattheo was leaning against the wall outside.

The moment you passed he removed himself from the wall, joining your side. – “Y/n Y/l/n.” – he called out sliding an arm over you. You made some brief eye contact with your friend as she got the hint. She moved away, giving you the space with Mattheo. – “Hope I didn’t hit your pride.” – you told him as he inhaled sharp through his teeth. – “Not yet.” – he answered with a chuckle. You glanced to the side seeing his hand over your shoulder. A bit of his sleeve pulled back revealing his wrist to you. Seeing how muscles and veiny it was made you swallow. Somehow that was very appealing to you.

“I didn’t know you were such a duelist or were you just eager to get me.” – he said making you pull your attention away from his wrist. – “What would you like the answer to be.” – you responded leaning in close to tease him. Mattheo smiled losing his mind over how ravishing that was. His bad boy attitude stroked with sarcastic comments that could make the serotine in his brain release. You swallowed shyly at those eyes he flashed your way. subtly feeling his muscles tense as he moved your neck closer to him.

Your heart started to beat faster as the urge grew to grab his hand and let your fingers go up his arm wanting to feel those muscles. Something inside of you snapped needing to touch him. You touched his chest, moving your hand a bit. – “Still in pain?” – you asked feeling yourself warm up for doing something so bold. Mattheo smiled taking your hand and removing it gently from against his chest. – “Only when you touch it.” – he whispered almost making you weak on the knees. - “Good thing I didn’t hit any weak spots.” – you answered letting his arm slide off your shoulder.

Mattheo and you parted ways as you went to search for your friend. Out of sight you needed a moment to cool yourself down. Never in a million years did you think Mattheo Riddle would hold such a grip over you. Sure he was handsome, a first class bad boy and very picky in his taste in girls but seeing that wrist of his made something snap inside of you. It made you wonder what the rest of him looked underneath his shirt. There was something so handsome of well enough muscles arms. You barely lost control now, you weren’t sure what would happen if you would encounter him again if you saw a bit of skin.

Luckily your friend was waiting for you by the great hall. You entered with her taking a seat on the long tables along some other Slytherins. – “So what did he want?” – she asked curious. You shrugged your shoulders. To be honest you couldn’t remember much of it. If one were to ask you about it, you’d probably just ramble on about his arms and how they were in contact with your body. Words weren’t necessary when his body had you in such a clutch. – “When you speak of the snake.” – your friend whispered nudging you. Looking up you saw Mattheo enter with his friends.

He came sitting a table before yours, facing your way. He flashed you a devious smile before sitting down. Your friend had to suppress her excitement at how Mattheo was looking at you. Mattheo folded his hands before him as yet again a bit of wrist became visible. You caught yourself stare instantly at it. The scenario in your mind anything but playful. Knee trembling under the table you really had to withheld yourself to not jump over the tables and rub your hands over his arms.

Mattheo caught you staring making him smile. You forced yourself to look away, hoping you weren’t drooling over him. You moved yourself a bit so that your friend was blocking your focus on him. Whenever you accidently looked at him, you noticed he was looking back at you whilst chatting. His attention drawn to you while his mouth was engaged in the conversation. Unable to control yourself anymore you got up leaving with your friend. Mattheo watching your leave with full attention. Lorenzo waved his hand in front of him to snap his attention back.

Your friend and you went outside where you enjoyed some relaxed afternoon under the sun. After a few other classes you went to your common room in the dungeons. The two of you sat down on the sofa as your friend jumped back up. She pulled from underneath her a book. – “How did that come here?” – she questioned looking at the cover. – “Who’s it from?” – you asked as she opened the first page. – “Malfoy.” – she sighed out. She pushed the book in your arms. – “Here you take it to him.” – she said. – “What? No!” – you answered shoving it back to her. She pushed it back your way.

“Do it for me.” – she begged. – “No!” – you answered loudly trying to keep your voice down. – “Do it yourself!” – you forced the book back her way as she fumbled against your grip. – “See it as an opportunity to talk to him.” – you whispered to her knowing of her silly crush on him. She immediately shook her head. – “I don’t have a dead wish!” – she whispered back throwing the book on your lap. You took it, flapping it her way. – “Don’t be a baby and give it to him!” – she moved her hands behind her back, shaking her head.

You threw it in her lap as she squealed loud. Slapping it away like something dirty. It fell back with you as you sighed loud. – “I’ll buy you all the candy you want.” – she said. – “So you want me to overdose on sugar?” – you quirked your eyebrow up. – “I’ll do your homework than? Buy you new clothes? Lie for you? Please I’ll do anything but give it to him with perhaps a good word for me.” – she begged praying with her hands. – “Fine!” – you gave in. – “But you better talk to him one day or I’ll force you into a situation so uncomfortable you’ll hate it.” – she nodded her head firmly as you got up.

Dragging yourself up the stairs you went to Draco’s dorm that he shared with his friends. You knocked loudly waiting for someone to call you in. – “In.” – you heard making you open the door. Popping your head inside, you froze. Instead of finding Draco, you found Mattheo half-naked. His entire chest bare as you had a full pleasure of his muscular body. – “Y/n? What are you doing here?” – he asked holding his shirt. Speechless you moved Draco’s book up to show him.

Mattheo frowned. You entered more; gaze caught on his chest. – “Malfoy’s.” – you managed to get out. – “That idiot.” – Mattheo sighed out coming closer to you. Your eyes widened practically shaking as he came nearer. He plucked the book out of your hand, looking briefly at it. Wetting your lips, you so wanted to go smoothly over his muscles and veiny arms. You had never had such a dirty mind but licking them might have crossed your mind.

“Y/n?” – Mattheo said noticing you were staring lost at him. You hummed softly still charmed by his muscles. Mattheo chuckled making you look up to him. The way he looked at you set you over the edge. You completely lost it. You let your hands slide up his arms to his neck as you drew your head closer. The sensation that overtook you whilst feeling his arms was ravishing.

You kissed him hard feeling his neck. Mattheo grabbed you kissing you back. Your lips followed his pace as your hands went down his arms again meeting in the center of his chest. Mattheo removed your hands from on his chest bringing them up to his neck. Inhaling sharply you kissed him hard again. Heating up at the sensation leaving your brain. Mattheo chuckled when you started kissing his neck and shoulder.

“Easy there Y/n.” – he said at your eagerness. He tilted your head up to him, pressing his lips on yours again. Taking his hands you wrapped them around you, wanting him close. – “You’re so mine.” – he whispered to you tilting your chin up by his thumb. – “I so am.” – you whispered back before kissing him again.

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tomarry-harry-meet-more-harry · 2 months ago

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Typical time-travel tomarry Harry meet Typical A/B/O Tomarry universe; 2- ABO Harry

Context: Following a typical A/B/O Tomarry story, Harry would be an Omega, Voldemort (let's go with snake-face) will be an Alpha. However, the view of Omegas in these omegaverse tend to lean towards weak and easily dominated- so, assuming Harry wasn't born an Omega (otherwise Voldemort wouldn't have deemed him worthy of being the 'chosen one') and instead presented later during his teens, the context I'm going for in this one is the Omegaverse Order summon an other Harry Potter from a different universe to take the place of their own Omega Harry Potter, whom they consider too weak to fight.

Ginny expected a lot of things from the summoning of the Other Harry.

Of course, the children weren't allowed to take part; after all, the ritual required blood and was thus Dark magic, so only the adults were allowed to do it (due to them being less easy to sway away from the Light cause). In fact, the children were all locked up in the floors above to ensure minimum contact, despite Fred and George's loud and passionate protest and Ginny's best attempts to get out.

That didn't mean they couldn't eavesdrop though.

Crouching on the floor right above the ritual room, underneath the dining table, the Weasleys, Their Harry and Hermione gathered, bent over their Extendable Ears and trying their best to make out what was happening.

"I bet you guys each a Galleon he's going to be an Alpha," whispered Ron, only for scoffs to echo around their little circle.

"Of course he will be," Hermione huffed. "How else is he supposed to reject Volde- sorry, You-Know-Who's Commands?

Fred (or George? Ginny was fairly sure that's Fred.) squinted and wriggled his Extendable Ear around.

"We're not taking that bet." he said, "We aren't that stupid, you know." George took it and tried his own share of wriggling. "Now be quiet! We can't hear anything."

Ginny glanced sideways to Their Own Harry, who was worrying his lips between his teeth, frowning as if in deep contemplation. She fought the urge to coo at him. Before his presentation, he had been cute; now, he was positively edible- just looking at him made Ginny want to cry and squish and feed all the same time.

She couldn't wait until her own presentation.

Smiling, Ginny shifted closer and hooked their pinkies together, causing him to cast a wide-eyed, emerald glance up at her in surprise. In the darkness of under a dining table, his eyes almost seemed to glow. She leant in and tucked her head into his space, enjoying the closeness.

"Are you okay?" she asked, so quietly that Harry wouldn't have been able to hear if she hadn't had her mouth right against his ear.

Harry flushed slightly and nodded. Ginny hummed but didn't move away.

Their Own Harry has been furious when the decision was made that he would no longer fight and he has been quieter ever since. Ginny couldn't blame him- imagine if her family wanted to summon a different Ginny because they didn't think she was good enough! She would have felt apocalyptic. It was for his own good though. He would suffer badly if he tried to fight now, hence why the ritual was necessary.

"...-What's going on?" Floated an unfamiliar voice from up the Extendable Ear.

Their little eavesdropping group inhaled collectively in excitement and unconsciously leant closer.

"Tom!"- "An Alpha!" hissed Hermione. "I knew it!" Ron exclaimed.- "Tom! This isn't funny! We talked about this!"

"Tom?" muttered Harry suspiciously.

Ron shrugged and mimed a shushing motion.

"Your Tom is not here. Drop your wand and raise your hands!" That was Mad-Eye Moody.

A beat of silence.

Ginny held her breath and strained her ears. What's going on? She wanted to lean closer, but Fred and George were in the way.

"...Professor Moody?"

The Other Harry knew Moody!

It was their first nugget of information about this summoned Harry, other than the fact he knew a Tom. The chances of that Tom being the Tom Riddle was slim though; Ginny couldn't fathom any universe where Harry and Tom were on speaking terms, much less say 'We talked about this' on a recurring issue!

"Your beard-" What's going on now? Beard? "Orion."

Sirius's dad? mouthed Ron, befuddled. Ginny frowned.

"Sirius."

So this new Harry knew Sirius as well as his dad. What does that mean? Ginny didn't have time to react, because a second later a loud crash came from downstairs, followed by gasps.

The loudness of that caused them all to jump. Ron's head slammed against the bottom of the dining table with a THUD as Fred cursed under his breath and readjusted the Extendable Ear. The noise from the Ear fizzed in and out of quality, becoming garbled.

The door to the room opened, and they all peered out guiltily up at a tired-looking Remus Lupin, his face dripping in disapproval.

#Typical time-travel tomarry Harry meet Typical A/B/O Tomarry universe #tomarry #Tomarry au

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suugarbabe · 1 year ago

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Saint-Like

Here we are my darlings, the long awaited George one shot based off of this ask.

Pairing: George Weasley x reader

Word Count: 3k (told ya it'd be a bit long)

Warning: mention of blood, angst, kissing

Professor Moody stalked about the living room giving a speech that did not make anyone feel any less uneasy about what was about to transpire. “Potter, you’re underage, which means you still have the trace on you.” Harry looked up confused, “What’s the trace?” Moody placed both hands on his walking stick for support, “It means that if ya sneeze the ministry is goin’ to know who wiped yer nose. The point is we have to use those means of transport that the trace can’t detect, brooms, thestrals, the like. We go in pairs. That way if there’s anyone out there waiting for us, and I reckon there will be, they won’t know which Harry Potter is the real one.”

Harry looked confused, “The real one?” Moody’s face turned up slightly, a grin forming as he grabbed his infamous flask from his jacket pocket. He stirred the flask with a swirl of his wrist, “I believe you’re familiar with this particular brew.” Harry immediately shook his head, “No, absolutely not.” Hermione rolled her eyes behind him, “Told you he’d take it well.” Harry continued, voice strained, “No, if you think I’m gonna let everyone risk their lives for me-” Ron cut him off abruptly with a sarcastic tone, “Never done that ‘ave we?” Harry turned to face his friend, “No! No, this is different! Taking that, becoming me? No.”

“Well none of us really fancy it, mate,” Fred piped up, smug grin across his face. “Yeah imagine something went wrong and we end up a screwy, specky git forever,” George teased, smiling alongside his twin. “Everyone is of age here, Potter,” Moody spoke up again, “They’ve all agreed to take the risk.” A short man in the back spoke up just then, “Technically, I’ve been coerced.” He turned to Harry, “Mundungus Fletcher, Mista Potta, always been a ‘uge admirer.”

“Nip it, Mundungus!” Moody scolded. The small man’s head went down, turning back to his spot in the back of the room and staying quiet. “Alright, Granger, as discussed,” Moody nodded toward the witch. Hermione walked past Harry, gripping a patch of hair at the back of his head and pulling harshly, pulling out several hairs. “Blimey, Hermione,” Harry rubbed the back of his head. Moody instructed Hermione to drop the hairs in the polyjuice potion in his flask. The potion began to bubble as Moody stirred it around with another twirl of his wrist.

“For those of you who are not familiar with the polyjuice potion, fair warning, taste like goblin piss,” Moody stated comfortingly as he handed the flask to Fred. Fred took the flask from him, “Have lots of experiences with that, do ya Mad-Eye?” Moody continued to stare at Fred, face blank and unchanging. Fred let out a sigh, “Just trying to diffuse the tension…” Those in the line all took a large swig, first Fred, then George, followed by Mundungus, Fluer, Ron and lastly Hermione. You stood next to Hermione and watched in amazement as the row of people all slowly started changing, skin bubbling to transform into Harry.

You watched your George shrink several inches and he transformed. His clothes became far too large for his frame. “Is this how you feel when you borrow a shirt from me, love?” he looked over at you, a smile on his - well Harry’s - face. You shook your head, cheeks becoming a shade darker than before, “You know it’s really hard to take you seriously when you look like that.” He shrugged as he started to get dressed in the same exact attire as Harry. The goal was simple, pairs would travel with a Harry look-a-like towards the Burrow. Mad-Eye said he anticipated an attack by death eaters and that the risk was high. You and George agreed to be involved immediately, no questions asked.

Once everyone was changed you all filed outside, you grabbed your broom. You hopped on, George floating next to you on a copy of Harry’s broom. Moody stood at the end of the drive, announcing it was time to leave. You both took off together, staying close by one another. As you got deeper into the clouds, it looked like a lightning storm. Moody went further ahead of the others. In an instant you were seemingly surrounded by black cloaks swishing by spells being thrown on either side of you. You turned to find George, you had to assume he was still the Harry closest to you.

You knew you were close to the Burrow. You looked over to check on George once more just in time to see a death eater point their want towards him. You panicked, not knowing the spell they would speak and instantly flicked your wand toward George, “Depulso!” George’s body slid farther away from you, narrowly missing the spell, or at least almost. You noticed his body go slightly limp, his broom altitude dropping quickly. You dove after him, grabbing him in your arms and speeding toward the barrier around the burrow.

As soon as you were through the barrier you headed to land, nearly crashing into the cornfields. He still looked like Harry as you fervently started checking his body for damage, “C’mon Georgie, wake up. You’re okay, right? You’re okay.” His head was bleeding, you turned it to the side, noticing his left ear nearly missing, “Oh, Georgie.” He turned his head back and forth, mumbling something. You put your ear next to his mouth and he mumbled again, “Y/n/n, yer…kneeling on my hand.” You jumped up, and he attempted to roll over to his side. Thankfully he was still mostly Harry, you threw one of his arms over your shoulder, your arm around his waist, doing your best to take hold of most of the weight.

You stumbled out of the cornfields, seeing a few of the others that made it before you two. Harry, the real Harry, was quick to come to the other side of George, helping you take him inside the Burrow. Molly turned from the sink as soon as she heard commotion, eyes glued on the now changing boy back into George. “Oh my boy,” Molly rushed over as you and Harry laid George on the family sofa. Remus walked in with another Harry that slowly turned into their normal self, challenging each one making sure they weren’t an imposter.

You ignored the background noise, focusing solely on the red head in front of you. You got a washing cloth from the kitchen, dowsing it in cool water to begin to clean his wound. As you approached the sofa again Molly snatched the rag from your hands, a glare upon her face as she pushed in front of you to tend to her son. Fred entered the Burrow, rushing to his twin’s side. It was silent for a long moment before Fred spoke, “How’re you feelin’ Georgie?” George’s eyes were still closed, taking slow deep breaths as he responded, “Saint-like.”

Fred shook his head, “Come again?” George smiled softly, “Saint-like. I’m holy. I’m holy, Fred. Ya get it?” He then pointed to his ear. Fred just shook his head again, smiling, “The whole wide world of ear related humor, and you go for ‘I’m holy’. It’s pathetic.” George winked at you before responding to his twin once more, “Reckon I’m still better looking than you.” You laughed softly at his ability to ease a room in even the most stressful of times. Molly turned at the sound of your laughter, glaring at you once more. You could understand her feeling protective, but you were unsure why she was taking her anger out at you.

You attempted once more to get closer to George now that he was talking to others more, but Molly was quick to step in front of you. “I think you’ve done enough for tonight dear,” Her voice was low but stern. You were sure confusion was written across your features, “What do you mean, Molly?” She gestured toward the other room, “Maybe it would be best if you kept your distance for the night.” Her face told you not to argue with her. While she was usually the soft and comforting one, she could instill fear when needed.

You took the hint and went into the other room, pacing back and forth. You kept playing with the rings on your fingers, one in particular George had gifted you last Christmas. You wished you could talk to him, it pained you being pushed away like this. Pained you so deeply you swear you could feel it on your side. Your right side. You placed your hand onto your torso, wincing as you touched just below your rib cage. You lifted your shirt slowly, peering down to see a deep gash. “Bloody hell, that’s not good,” with the realization of your wound you felt more light headed. You assumed the lack of adrenaline also played a part in this. You turned back towards the main living area, intentions of calling out for someone when everything started to fade around you.

—------------

George moved to sit up, laughing slightly at the several members of his family fawning over him. He looked around searching for the face of the one person who’s voice he hadn’t heard since he landed at the burrow. “Where’s Y/n?” George went to stand up, albeit a little shaky. “She’s just in the other room, I asked her to give you some space,” Molly rubbed his arm in comfort. He started walking towards the room, “Why would you do that mum?” He walked a little quicker towards the next room. He turned the corner to see you laying facedown on the floor.

George rushed over, shouting for someone, anyone to come and help him. He turned you over, noticing how slow and shallow your breathing had become. He did the same inspection you had done just an hour prior, checking your face, your neck, down your arms. He ran his hands down your sides, your body involuntarily twitching as he reached your wound. He lifted your shirt as Remus and his father came to kneel next to him. George gasped as he saw the deep gash on your side, the edges burned black clearly from a dark spell. “What do I- how do we fix her dad, you have to fix her…” George’s eyes brimmed with tears, pleading to his father. Kingsley came to join the older two men, encouraging George to stand back.

George stood there, tears streaming down his face as Remus, Arthur and Kingsly worked over your body. George was still recovering himself, swaying back and forth as his anxiety and blood pressure got higher. “C’mon, Georgie, let’s go sit you back down before you’re the next to pass out.” George reluctantly followed his twin. As soon as he was sat on the couch, Molly came rushing to his side again. George’s face was in his hands, making his words come out muffled, “Mum, please, I love you, but please give me some space right now.”

“Oh, darling, wha-why?” Molly stood up confused. George shook his head, “Mum you told her to go over there, to leave everyone else, to leave me. Why? Why did you do that? She was in there alone! Who knows how long she was passed out for!” George’s voice got higher and higher with each word. Molly took a step back in shock. “George, she- she was supposed to protect you. She was paired with you to keep you safe and look how you turned out, you could have died George!” He stood up instantly, face screwed in anger, “Well now she might die, mum.” And with that, he stomped up the stairs, two at a time until he reached his room.

—-----

What felt like hours later there was a knock on George’s door. He kept his face in his pillow, shouting back, “Go away.” He heard the door open regardless of his wishes. He remaining in his position even though he heard footsteps approaching him. He felt a dip in his bed before he heard your voice teasing him, “Don’t want to see me, is that it George? I heard I was all you could talk about.”

He turned over so quickly he nearly knocked you off the bed. He grabbed you onto his lap and embracing you tightly. You hissed slightly, causing him to pull your body away from his and he glanced down at your side, “Oh, y/n/n, I’m sorry, how’re you-how does it look?” You leaned back slightly, lifting your shirt to show him your waist wrapped in bandages, “Looks about as good as your head.” You touched the side of his face gently, fingers dancing over his damaged ear. His eyes closed at your touch. He relished in your presence, brain mulling over him almost losing you just hours earlier.

He hadn’t noticed himself become emotional until he felt your thumb wipe a tear off his cheek. “Why are you crying, Georgie?” Your voice was so soft, always a comfort to him. He shook his head, realizing how daft he’s been, “I’m just so stupid.” You laughed lightly, another mesmerizing sound to him, “What are you talking about?” He opened his eyes, though they were still downcast, “Y/n, I haven't been honest with you. Erm, honest with myself either, really.” He felt your fingers lift his chin, making him look into your eyes.

“You know you can tell me anything, no matter what you can tell me,” you wore a soft smile on your lips, doing your best to encourage him to continue. He just stared at you for a moment, taking in how gentle your eyes looked at him, the bit of dirt still on your cheek from earlier in the night, how soft your lips looked right now. George was so lost in thought he almost didn’t notice you getting closer to him. Your arms wrapped around his neck now, still waiting for him to respond to you.

“It’s just…I…,” he trailed off, eyes shooting to your lips, back to your eyes and down again. You just nodded, closing the gap further, “I know, Georgie, me too.” And then it happened, your lips were on his and he was in heaven. One of his hands cupped your face as his other steadied on your hip, your lips slotting against one another fervently and with purpose. You felt his tongue glide against your bottom lip and granted him entrance without hesitation, allowing him to explore your mouth and deepen the kiss.

He attempted to pull you even closer, hands grabbing at your waist. You pulled back with a hiss, both forgetting about your injury. “Oh Merlin, I’m-” You shook your head, smiling, “It’s okay Georgie, I’m okay.” You cupped his cheek, rubbing your thumb across his skin, “You scared me tonight. You can’t scare me like that, I thought I was gonna lose you.” He chuckled at this, “Yeah well I could say the same to you.” You shook your head, smiling at the red head, “You know I realized something tonight.” He looked at you curiously, “Oh? And what’s that.”

“I love you Georgie,” you bit your lip, waiting on how he would respond. He reached up, his thumb lightly pulling your lip from your teeth, “I love you too, Y/n, so much.” He leaned in to kiss you once more, your lips just barely grazing each other when you heard someone clear their throat in the doorway. You both turned to see Fred, leaning against the door frame with a smirk plastered on his lips.

“As adorable as that was to witness, there’s someone downstairs wanting to talk to you both,” Fred pushed himself off the frame, turning to leave. He grabbed ahold of the frame quickly, popping his head back into the room, “If I wasn’t clear, I was talking about mum.” You climbed off of George’s lap, allowing him to also stand up from the bed, “Thanks genius, didn’t quite get that one.”

You walked with George down the stairs, fingers intertwined while doing so. Molly’s eyes clocked the connection immediately, her face becoming more apologetic than before, if that were even possible. She met you both at the bottom of the steps, wrapping you in her embrace immediately, “Darling, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for how I acted, what I said to you, it was rubbish, truly.” She pulled back, tears brimming her eyes. You shook your head, “Molly, no. He’s your son. You just love him so much, I understand the feeling.”

You looked up at George who gave you a small smile and a wink in return. Molly, missing nothing, quickly wrapped her arms around both your necks, planting kisses on each of your cheeks, whispering in your ears, “We’ve been waiting for this, your father and I. Probably another reason I was so emotional earlier.” George leaned back, “What dya mean you’ve been waiting?” Molly simply smiled, “I know the look dear, you’ve had it with her for, gosh, how long now Arthur?”

“Since year 5 for them both, Moll.” Arthur yelled from the other side of the room. You felt your cheeks burn, surely visibly red for everyone to see. George was also blushing, not realizing how blatantly obvious he had been over the years. Fred came up behind you both, slinging an arm over each of your shoulders, “Thank Merlin for that though, yeah? He wouldn’t nearly have been as passionate about where you were if he wasn’t always looking for you in a room. Probably would’ve been longer before we realized you were passed out.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, “Yeah, he really was a Saint for me tonight, wasn’t he?” Fred looked at you puzzled, “Come again?” You pointed at George’s bandaged ear, “He’s holy Fred, Saint-like.” Fred just groaned, rolling his eyes as he pushed through the both of you. George however smiled, grabbing your chin and planting another kiss on your lips with a smile.

Taglist:

@luv4kani ; @somekidinacoma ; @huahuali ; @ell0ra-br3kk3r ; @wollymalfoy ;

#harry potter #golden era #fred weasley #george weasley #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x reader

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