#madam Zabini

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Another useless headcannon of mine is Dorcas Meadow's sister is Blaise Zabini's icon of a mother.

So Barty wasn't just haunted by Luna during the Goblet of Fire.

[jomiddlemarch]

The Black Widow

“I think I’ve been too hard on Blaise’s mum, all these years,” Hermione said, her shoulders slumped instead of maintaining her usual impeccable, McGonagall-inspired posture, her chin held in the hand that wasn’t curled around a cup of tea. It was actually a very fine cup of masala chai that Padma had made using the Patil family’s own karha recipe and Hermione had chosen it over a glass of Shiraz and the two fingers of bourbon that had also been offered and perhaps foolishly declined. She took a breath, tried to let the scent of the spices soothe her.

No dice.

“Maybe you’re, I don’t know, exaggerating a bit?” Padma said carefully.

“She means you’re being more dramatic than Celestina Warbeck and Sarah Bernhardt put together, darling,” Theo said. They were her two most rational friends, Theo a hatstall for Ravenclaw, Padma properly Sorted and also Second Wrangler for her year at Cambridge. It had made sense to come to them and not, say, Harry, who was pants at validation, or Ginny, who only ever wanted salacious details and sulked when Hermione wouldn’t share, or Luna, who might say something daft or something that was as sharply acute as an Unforgivable, with the additional burden of being Unforgettable, and who was also in Svalbard. It had made sense and yet now Hermione was considering she could have just gone to any wine-bar in Soho and gotten sloshed without any incisive commentary.

“Incisive, I like that,” Theo said as Hermione had evidently voiced that bit of her internal monologue aloud.

“I always said she must be a dreadful person and now I’m the dreadful person,” Hermione said. Was there a slight moaning quality to her tone? She had come seeking tea and sympathy. “I should have understood the cards were stacked against her and that she couldn’t fight the patriarchy of the Wizarding world by herself—”

“I’m not discounting the point about the patriarchy, but I don’t think you and Madame Zabini are much alike. Nor are your circumstances,” Padma said.

“She means you haven’t murdered any of your men,” Theo said, peering at Hermione through his glasses. “In case you were too addled to make out what she meant by circumstances. You’re still a Gryffindor, you often need things told to you point-blank. Or at wandpoint, but that seems unnecessary.”

“He’s right,” Padma said. “Though to be unfair, there’s no confirmation about several of Madame Zabini’s husbands’…demises. There was no body recovered for the last one and she’s always spoken fondly about Blaise’s father. She’s allowed to have some bad luck and there have been two wars—”

“Come off it, Padma, the witch is a bloody menace and even Riddle was scared of her. That’s why Blaise didn’t have to get the Dark Mark,” Theo said. “Tom was into Dark magic, but Madame Zabini knows the Old Ways.”

“Fine,” Padma said. “Still, Hermione, it’s not the same.”

“First of all, no one you’ve dated is dead,” Theo pointed out.

“Anthony said I was a life-ruiner,” Hermione replied. 

“As if he had a life worth ruining, the tosser,” Theo said, scoffing. “So full of himself.”

“Ron got cursed at the Final Battle because he was trying to protect me,” Hermione said.

“He’s been getting free rounds of drinks off that injury for the past twenty-odd years,” Padma said. “If he’d listened to anyone, he could have had it repaired at St. Mungo’s that first week instead of relying on a field dressing by a fifth year Hufflepuff. He’s only still got the limp and the scar because he waited and then it was permanent.”

“Bill said that too,” Hermione admitted. 

“And just because Viktor Krum hasn’t been heard of in about nine years, that’s nothing to do with you,” Theo said. “I know you’ll mention that last letter of his, where he wrote about Ioanna and her amber halo, but really, that could mean any number of things. And also, again, not confirmed dead and not at your hand.”

“McLaggen had it coming to him,” Padma said and sniffed. “You were helping out all female-presenting creatures and beings when you hexed him.”

“I don’t feel that bad about him,” Hermione said.

“Good. That’s progress, love,” Theo said. “You’re not still counting Snape, are you?”

“I mean, I let him die, Theo. I was right there—”

“You had a crush on him during sixth year but I don’t see how he counts as one of you men. I think he would rather have died again, more gruesomely, as Nagini kibble, than have a relationship with any student, let alone a Gryffindor like yourself,” Theo said. 

“You couldn’t have saved him,” Padma said more softly. “You were with him when he went, his portrait said as much. He doesn’t bear you any ill-will. Quite the contrary, I think he’s a bit fond of you now, though he’d say this was a bunch of bloody sentimental shite. And probably take one hundred points from Gryffindor and call you a silly cow.”

“Death has not softened him up much, has it?” Theo said. “Good old Snape. Or Bad old Snape. Whichever. That was his thing, double-agent, et cetera, wasn’t it? But he’d never see himself as one of your victims.”

“I appreciate you are both trying to cheer me up,” Hermione said. She took a gulp of the chai, which was at the perfect temperature, because Padma had used the good Charmed china. 

“We are trying to reason with you, brightest witch of our age,” Theo said.

“Neville—” Hermione said, breaking off.

There was a moment of silence, respectful, sincere, thoughtful. Sort of like Neville had turned out to be, besides being the Prophecy’s spare, the slayer of Nagini, champion wearer of Fair Isle jerseys and well-worn cords, strider of moors, Sprout’s successor. Hermione’s former almost-fiancé.

“It never would have worked out,” Padma said.

“I know. I just loved him so much, he was so dear,” Hermione said. “When he proposed, it was like a dream—”

“He fell in a bog and broke both his legs,” Theo said. “Again, Not Dead. Perhaps terminally embarrassed, especially since he lost the ring in the bog and now the bog kassapu won’t give it back and Madame Longbottom is furious—”

“His gran didn’t mind that much,” Hermione said. “But she did say it was a sign. And that because Neville broke his legs in an enchanted bog, it wasn’t something St. Mungo’s could heal up easily and I wasn’t to think twice about refusing the offer. Neville said the same thing.”

“I suppose you could wait for him,” Padma said. “You are a witch. Another couple of decades—”

“We agreed it was for the best, ending it. We’ll stay friends, close friends, but he saw what was happening,” Hermione said. She’d often been told, dismissively by Slytherins, that one could read her face like a book; at the moment, it must be a torrid, fraught romance, albeit one without any ripped bodices or irascible, secretly wounded dukes. 

“It’s not like you and Draco planned to meet at St. Mungo’s,” Theo said. “It’s not like you orchestrated it for him to be on-call when you and Neville arrived and for him to be the one who sat up with you the whole night while the other Healers stabilized Nev. It’s not like you tried to fall in love with each other, former rivals and adversaries who had more in common than they’d admit until they couldn’t any more, wouldn’t—”

“Even though the rest of us could see it coming from a mile away. Years before. Since that first night at the pub,” Padma said. “Harry saw it. George Weasley’s had a bet going since you went to the loo that night, the pot could buy a lovely holiday villa in the Algarve by now. Minerva—”

“You call her Minerva now?” Theo whistled. “I thought that was reserved for the brightest witch here.”

“I advise some of the more gifted Arithmancy students who are beyond Vector’s skills,” Padma said. “Hermione might have done, but she had that Potions torch to carry and then Bill roped her into the side-gig at Gringott’s. Minerva told me she didn’t want to be called Professor by a colleague, certainly not one who made a better pot of tea than she did.”

“She said that?” Hermione exclaimed.

“I made the masala chai. She’s not stupid,” Padma said. “She said she’d wondered about you and Draco since the Yule Ball and that if Dumbledore had simply managed the Voldemort situation better, we could all have spent our Hogwarts years waiting to see if the two of you would get together.”

“Oh my,” Theo said, laughing. Hermione made a face, scrunching up her nose, then shoved back the hair that had come loose from the combs she’d used to pull it back.

“I guess the truth is, I’m afraid,” Hermione said. “I’m thirty-eight years old and I’ve never had a successful romantic relationship, they’ve all been unmitigated failures, well, maybe I get a pass on Neville, but otherwise it’s all been utter shite and I don’t want to mess anything up with Draco. I don’t want to hurt him. I don’t want to be the Black widow and Walburga has been giving me the evil eye since she heard—”

“There it is,” Padma said.

“You cannot let that blasted portrait bother you,” Theo said. “Draco ought to be able to shut her up, heir to the House and all.”

“You’re not going to mess anything up. At least, you won’t do it by yourself. This is about you and Draco, what’s between you. What you make with how you care about each other,” Padma said. Theo nodded.

“And for the record, Draco has done a superlative job of keeping himself alive in situations that would have killed any lesser being. He survived Riddle as a houseguest. He survived Bellatrix changing his nappies. He survived Lucius finding out you’d beaten him in every class and Harry winning the Tri-Wizard Tournament,” Theo said. “You can’t take him out, darling girl, even if you try.”

“You should talk to him,” Padma said.

“I don’t know, he’ll think I’m being silly or that he has to take care of me,” Hermione said.

“You are being silly and he does have to take care of you,” Theo said. “So, yes, he’ll think that. But I am confident that he will express himself most eloquently on the topic.”

“How care you be so sure?” Hermione asked.

“Because this isn’t the first pot of masala chai I’ve made that one of you hasn’t drunk this week,” Padma said. “You’re the more secure of the two of you though—he went to Harry first.”

“And then to Millie,” Theo added. “She has not become more patient with age. It was a near-fatal error.”

Bonus image of my Madam Zabini fancast:

[magiclostinfantasy]

Blind Date || Theodore Nott x Reader

Warnings: swearing, Draco trying to play matchmaker Summary: Y/N and Theo's friends set them up on a blind date, not knowing they've secretly been dating.

<><><><><><><><><>

Theodore Nott did not go on blind dates, never felt the need to. He liked to believe that he could pull any girl he wanted. After all, who could resist that handsome face and Italian charm?

So, it came to him as a surprise when he found himself seated at Madam Pudifoot’s tea shop, sipping earl grey from a dainty, white teacup. He had been sitting at an intricately decorated table, looking like an idiot for the past fifteen minutes, waiting for his date.

Theodore wasn’t sure how he had let his friends convince him to go to this. He wasn’t sure why he had. He had a girlfriend for god’s sake- not that his friends knew. So, it really wasn’t their fault, he supposed.

His eyes scanned his surroundings, noticing all the lovey-dovey couples seated around him. He was painfully aware of how sad his situation looked. A handsome young boy sitting alone at a table for two in a restaurant full of happy couples. He groaned internally. Where the fuck was his date?

Just as he decided to leave, the door of the tea shop was thrown open. He turned around to see what the commotion was about and saw none other than his girlfriend. Y/n L/n.

Her eyes were blown wide, chest panting as she tried to catch her breath. Theodore’s face lit up as he saw her. She looked gorgeous - out of breath and absolutely gorgeous.

Y/n’s eyes locked with his as she scanned the crowd and a confused look crossed her face. Muttering apologies to everyone, she made her way over to him.

“Theo? What are you doing here?” She asked, sitting down across from him. Her cheeks flushed at the sight of her boyfriend. He grinned, offering her some tea. 

“I’m here for a blind date.”

She scoffed in amusement, taking the cup. “Me too.” 

They sipped their tea, eyes meeting as they did and a burst of laughter erupted from them both. Their friends had set them up together! The absurdity of the situation hit them like a spell gone wrong.

The couples around them looked over at the unexpected outburst, eyebrows raised in part curiosity and part irritation. Theo and Y/n couldn’t stop their laughter, though. This situation was just too funny!

Y/n wiped away a tear, her smile wide. “Bloody hell. This is not what I had been expecting.” She shook her head.

“Neither did I, love.” Theo agreed, his laughter dissolving  into a warm smile.

Their friends had no clue they were dating and had decided they would be the perfect match.

“Clearly, those idiots don’t know us as well as they think they do,” Y/N replied, chuckling. “But it’s kind of sweet.”

Theo nodded, his eyes gleaming. “How about we head somewhere more… comfortable?”

Y/N smirked, rising from her seat. “I know just the place.”

Leaving Madam Pudifoot’s behind, they strolled through the chilly streets of Hogsmeade.Their cheeks turned deep red as the cool night air hit them.

As they approached the Three Broomsticks, Theo couldn’t help but press a gentle kiss to Y/n’s forehead. He grinned as he remembered the moments the two had shared. The stolen kisses, the shared laughter and the secret dates, all kept hidden from their friends.

They found a cosy corner in the pub and settled in. The atmosphere was a nice change from the tea shop. It was all lively, with sounds of clinking glasses and cheerful banter filling the air. The couple ordered butterbeer and raised their classes for a toast to the turn of events.

Back at Madam Pudifoot's, their friends all sat dumbfounded. Draco, the mastermind behind the date, gaped at Theo and Y/n as they got up and left together. 

“Shiit. Did we miss something?” Pansy asked, nudging Draco’s side. She glanced around at the others who seemed just as confused. Blaise shook his head, grinning. “Looks like the little lovebirds have plans of their own.”

With that, the friend group left the tea shop, deciding to head to the Three Broomsticks to celebrate with butterbeer.

As Theo and Y/n continued to enjoy their company, a group of familiar faces burst through the door. They spotted each other, surprised faces morphing into amusement.

Mattheo sauntered over to the couple, a teasing look plastered on his face. “Would you look at what we have here? Care to explain, lovebirds?”

Theo and Y/n exchanged humoured looks before bursting into laughter again. It seemed that their friends had accidentally created a reunion instead of a blind date.

“We’ve been dating for a year, you oblivious idiots.” Theo exclaimed, wrapping his arm around a giggling Y/n.

Draco pouted, turning to Pansy. “I think we might need to brush up on your matchmaking skills.”

Pansy raised a brow at him. “Bitch, you mean you need to brush up on your matchmaking skills.”

The group rolled their eyes as they continued bickering. Squeezing in, the Slytherins joined the couple in their booth and The Three Broomsticks became a mere backdrop.

Enzo raised his butterbeer in another toast, “To surprises and these two lovey-dovey shits.” He winked. He was met with cheers and smiles from the group. Theo and Y/N exchanged a glance, their hearts swelling with happiness.

As the night drew to a close, the group left the Three Broomsticks. Theo and Y/N walked side by side, their fingers entwined.

“I’m glad this happened. We don’t have to be a secret anymore.” She whispered to him. He nodded, squeezing her hand. “Me too, love. Me too.”

[hoggleswart]

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓:                     ＂         this   was   never   a   problem   until   abaci   came   around.         ＂                  ft.      pansy   parkinson         &         madam   etta   zabini.               (      @witchbiitches​      )

And   if   it’s   true   what   her   dear,   departed   maman   used   to   say         :         gossip   is   the   devil’s   telephone,         then   let   this   date   go   down   in   history   as   the   day   Etta   opted   not   to   hang   up.         Interest   piques   almost   immediately,      poise   sitting   up   a   little   straighter   as   an   opportunity   to   dig   a   little   deeper   presents   itself.                     ＂         Oh?         ＂                     Such   a   loaded   question   in   one   very   small   word.         Subtle   wave   of   her   hand   has   teapot   levitating   to   pour   another   cup   and   it   shimmies   closer   once   full,      acting   as   a   silent   invitation   for   Pansy   to   join.                     ＂      I   confess   I’ve   yet   to   form   a   solid   opinion   on   the   girl   my   son   has   chosen   to         .   .   .         bring   into   the   family.         Their   situation   was   all   so   soudaine.               ―               But   perhaps   not   for   you.         I   imagine   you   see   much   more   than   I   do.         ＂                     Each   word   is   chosen   carefully         :            meticulous         &         dripping   in   charm   in   an   attempt   to   COAX   out   an   elaboration   on   previous   statement.                     ＂         Do   you   approve?         I   know   your   opinion   matters   terribly   to   Blaise   and   in   turn,      I   hold   it   in   rather   high   regard   myself.         ＂

[disorganizedkitten]

Not quite the same but a similar idea

Twisted Fairytale (Sinister Secrets) By a collective of authors!

Everyone knows the story of Blaise Zabini’s mother, Countess Stella Zabini. Seven times married, seven times widowed, seven times richer. But what most people don’t know is that in truth Stella has only been married once, her husband is just… a tad eccentric. If he wants to fake his death and renew their wedding vows every time he takes on a new face, who is she to say no to him?

Your friends are convinced that you have a new date every single day with all of the guys/girls you bring home. In reality, your partner is a shapeshifter and the two of you have been pulling a prank on your friends for years.

[realitybitesyouknowit]

A series of fics going AU after the graveyard scene in Goblet of Fire. Voldemort curses Harry to speak only Parseltongue. Harry deals with it, and falls in love with Blaise Zabini, who also helps him to deal with it.

[noxtms]

+   002   𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃   𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒  !

[wizardingworldlibrary]

New Years Masterlist

Links Last Checked: December 25th, 2024

part two

All Our New Years (ao3) - Frayach draco/harry, harry/ginny, astoria/draco M, 2k

Summary: It takes too many New Year's Eves without each other but eventually they get it right.

A New Year’s Dramione (ao3) - Mistressmeo hermione/draco N/R, 7k

Summary: The Christmas holiday is over and Hogwarts is about the ring in New Year but Malfoy and Granger can't seem to get a certain encounter under the mistletoe out of their minds.

Dear Journal, Happy New Year (ao3) - CatherineSarah draco/harry T, 3k

Summary: Draco Malfoy wants this terrible year to end. Why does he feel like it never will?

Defy Expectations (ao3) - Ashabadash hermione/draco T, 2k

Summary: “Do you have a resolution,” Hermione asked as they turned down the corridor on the fourth floor that led to their dormitory.

“No, of course not,” Draco said. “Who in Merlin's name would make one of those...” he saw the disappointment on her face and stopped short. “Of course you have one. What’s yours?” he asked.

Happy Drarry New Year (ao3) - SneakerSean draco/harry N/R, 1k

Summary: A New Years Eve short featuring my favorite ship, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy.

Happy New Year, Lovey (ao3) - KrumPuffer madam rosmerta/ron E, 6k

Summary: It's Ron Weasley's first New Year's Eve without Hermione Granger at his side. He finds himself at The Three Broomsticks, alone and enjoying the view of the beautiful, exotic and much older Madame Rosmerta. Will Ron ring in the new year lusting over the first woman to stir his libido or will he spend it fulfilling his youthful fantasies?

Kiss Under the Fireworks (ao3) - jams_fics scorpius/albus, seamus/dean G, 6k

Summary: Albus hasn't seen his best friend in thirteen days, and he's driving everyone crazy. Harry convinces Ron to let Scorpius come over to the Weasley's New Year's Eve party so Albus can see him before Winter break ends. Everyone is surprised by how polite the Malfoy is, but they're more focused on how Albus and Scorpius can't let go of each other. Everyone ships them and meddles to get them together.

Last Minutes (ao3) - siobhrag harry/snape G, 320

Summary: Harry's waiting for Severus on the New Year's Eve.

Less Than Three (ao3) - persephoneapple draco/harry G, 1k

Summary: For New Year's Eve, Harry promised Draco a kiss at midnight and three words.

New Year Magic (ao3) - Ladderofyears draco/harry G, 100

Summary: Draco is glad he attended the Weasley New Year Bash.

New Years (ao3) - orphan_account scorpius/albus T, 1k

Summary: Albus and Scorpius both are interested in each other, yet they have been to nervous to tell each other for years. How will the common "New Years Kiss" bring them together?

New Year's Resolutions (ao3) - InfamousJava draco/harry M, 3k

Summary: Harry has a New Year's Resolution he is determined to stick to - but Draco's not making it easy. Holiday oneshot

Resolutions On A New Year (ao3) - Topaz_Eyes G, 2k

Summary: New Year's Eve in 1990 falls on a full moon. A Lost Years fic.

Slow is Better, Sometimes (ao3) - gin_tonic harry/snape T, 2k

Summary: For a while now, Harry has wanted to be with Severus. As the year slowly comes to an end he finds a way to tell Severus of his feelings. Will they be happy with the way their lives change?

That New Year's Eve (ao3) - PotterCrew draco/harry E, 6k

Summary: It was just one night...right?

The First Five Years (ao3) - LittleRose13 harry/ginny, hermione/ron T, 14k

Summary: The war's over but it's just the beginning for Ginny and Harry's relationship.

As each new year rolls around, changes are taking place.

There’s Always Next Year (ao3) - MykEsprit hermione/draco T, 1k

Summary: Hermione tries not to sleep with Draco Malfoy on New Year’s Eve.

What about my New Year's kiss? (ao3) - TryAgain_FailAgain_FailBetter draco/blaise M, 2k

Summary: In their seats, Blaise and Draco turned to look at each other. “Happy New year” the blonde whispered before clinking his glass against Blaise’s. His friend smiled and sipped his firewisky. “What about my new year’s kiss?” he asked for fun, batting his long dark lashes.

The story of how New Year's Eve helped two friends admiting their true feelings to each others.

[lordprettyflackotara]

snakelike || mattheo riddle

smut. 18+. minors dni. hate fucking. enemies to lovers trope. that’s it. it’s just that. bahaha enjoy ;)

Gryffindor.

Known for bravery, courage, and loyalty. These were supposed to be the core traits. Maybe they were for most Gryffindors. But the most defining trait Mattheo saw in you was something more. If it weren’t so defiant he would’ve questioned your house placement. You were known for your fucking nerve. You had the nerve to terrorize anyone who crossed you or stood in your way.

Mattheo knew this first hand, being your number one competitor. The two of you went head to head in quidditch, a permanent scowl stitched across your face everytime a green uniform stepped onto the field. To your displeasure they had won this year’s championship, winning the house cup along with the final quidditch match. Mattheo felt like he was making history, whilst being able to shove his victory in your face at the same time.

Oh, was it so bittersweet. The satisfaction of seeing your unscathed rage and envy. The downside? The subtle fear that lingered in the back of his mind. The fear that somehow someway, he knew you’d get him back.

In celebration of winning it all the Slytherins decided to throw a party. Exclusively Slytherins only, obviously. Usually they’d extend their invitation to other houses, a flirty Blaise Zabini a major advocate for ‘meeting new people.’ But tonight? All of the house members were buzzing with excitement, the ability to fully let loose creating quite a stir. Of course winning quidditch wasn’t the old fashioned way, playing fair and all. He honestly figured Madam Hooch would catch on. But she didn’t and Mattheo got away with whispering a few jinxes.

The smell of muggle grass and booze laced the air, violating the nostrils of every attendee. Mattheo silently thanked himself for choosing Blaise as the designated DJ, cringing at the memory of Lorenzo playing classical music at their last get together. His eyes glanced across the crowd of swaying bodies, searching for Theo or Draco. He was in the mood for a shot, but opted to be waiting so he could celebrate the houses victory with his best friends.

Mattheo thought he was getting intoxicated from the air when a flash of red walked by him. He narrowed his eyes, blinking a few times and trying to settle his vision through the flashes of blinding lights. A firm hand grabbed his shoulder, causing him to grab the strangers wrist and twist it. “Holy fuck dude, what the fuck?” Theo hissed. Mattheo instantly dropped his wrist, his green eyed friend raising his eyebrows at him. “Who pissed in your cheerios?” He seethed, rubbing his wrist. Mattheo awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, clearing his throat.

“Sorry, thought I saw a flash of red in here,” Mattheo explained. Theo chuckled, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. “No lions will be wondering into the snake den tonight Riddle,” He replied, extending the pack to him. Logically he was right, the appearance of a Gryffindor one even you wouldn’t be as bold to make. Mattheo took a cigarette from Theo’s pack, the two taking a brief moment to light the heads.

“Malfoy’s over by pool table. I think he’s trying to show Greengrass his skills,” Theo said, rolling his eyes. The two walked side by side, crowds departing to give them room to walk. Mattheo Riddle was well known and respected, whether anyone wanted to admit it or not. If it wasn’t enough being the dark lords son, his aggressive and violent nature built a reputation by itself. Mattheo was finally able to relax as the tobacco swirled around his lungs, creating comfort as he exhaled through his nostrils.

The pool table was a muggle sport, one Pansy insisted the group give a shot after spending an evening playing it with Hermione Granger. After managing to get one in the Slytherin common room, it became a regular spot for Mattheo and his friends. Before the duo could arrive, a frantic Pansy stood before them. “Hey guys I think we should go do shots! Why don’t we go do shots?” She suggested, smiling nervously. Mattheo glanced at Theo, the two communicating telepathically.

“Pans, what’s wrong?” Theo questioned. The short girl laughed awkwardly, placing her hands on both boys chest. “Nothing! Seriously though let’s go this way,” Pansy encouraged, trying to guide the boys in the opposite direction. That’s when Mattheo heard it, the sound of your beautiful laughter. His ears twitched, his eyes flickering upwards towards the pool table. “Son of a bitch,” He muttered, pushing past Pansy.

Theo and Pansy trailed behind him, recognizing the shit storm that was about to occur. You were bent over the side of the pool table, a red dress complimenting your curves. Your lips were painted the same shade of red, curled up in a smile as a familiar face guided you with the pool stick. Lorenzo stood behind you, your body’s connected as his hands sat over yours. Your eyes flickered up to Mattheo’s, soaking in his facial expression of rage.

“Hi Riddle,” You greeted, hitting one of the pool balls into the pocket with ease. Lorenzo grinned, leaning back and grabbing the pool stick from your hand. “See? I told you that you’d be a pro in no time,” He said encouragingly. Mattheo looked between the two of you, racking his brain for an explanation. “A lion cub wondering into a snake den wasn’t the wisest decision, don’t you think?” Mattheo spat, lacing his words carefully. The only conclusion he could draw, based on the goofy grin on Lorenzo’s face, was that his friend was oblivious, naive, and an idiot.

“I’d be careful disrespecting a pride’s leader Riddle. Wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt,” You purred, batting your eyelashes mockingly. Pansy and Theo exchanged glances, attempting to anticipate Mattheo’s next move. He was boiling was rage, your stupid red dress only igniting the flame further. “Can’t we all just have a good time guys? After all, it’s a celebration isn’t it?” Lorenzo suggested, sipping his red solo cup. Mattheo inhaled more of his cigarette, flicking away the ashes onto the dreaded pool table. The table that, at this current moment, was the bane of his existence.

Lorenzo frowned at the sight of the ashes. “Hey you’re going to ruin the game, you’ve got to give up cigarettes,” He said, handing the pool stick back to you. Mattheo took one last deep inhale, a naive Lorenzo placing his red solo cup on the edge of the table. “Alright, i’ll start now,” He agreed, shoving the bud of his cigarette in his red solo cup. The sizzle of the flame was music to Mattheo’s ears, his lips curling up in a devilish grin. Lorenzo’s face twisted in disgust, going to take a step towards Mattheo.

Mattheo was never one to shy away from a fight, even if it was one of his moron friends. You quickly stepped in between them. “Enough of this petty shit. Get out of here Riddle,” You spat, glaring up at the tall Slytherin. For a brief moment, when you weren’t running that mouth of yours, Mattheo consciously thought to himself you were quite pretty. “I’ll leave, but you’re coming with me little cub. Otherwise the next time I put out my cigarette it’ll be on his forehead,” Mattheo snarled, glaring at the man behind you.

You gritted your teeth, grabbing Mattheo’s wrist harshly. “You wanna play? Fine. Let’s play,” You grumbled, digging your nails into his skin. You dragged him through the crowd, a Gryffindor dragging Mattheo around an impossible sight. You dragged him over to the closest room, tossing him inside. Mattheo didn’t know the owner of this dorm room, but he was pleased to see it was empty.

“You’ve lost your fucking mind coming here,” Mattheo growled. You audibly scoffed, folding your arms. “Guess i’m joining you then, considering you lost yours when you decided to jinx my fucking broom!” You argued. Mattheo’s hardened gaze temporarily fell, shock briefly washing over his features before he swiped it away. “I may not be a Ravenclaw but i’m not stupid. You’re just lucky I found out long after the game,” You huffed. Mattheo hadn’t anticipated this outcome, your intelligence a trait he had underestimated.

“Why didn’t you snitch to madam hooch?” Mattheo questioned. He eyed you carefully, your small figure much more intimidating than before. “I figured riding your best friends face would work far more sufficient,” You quipped, grinning mischievously. Mattheo was on you in a flash, shoving you against the closest wall. His hands pinned you against the dark wood, his face inches from yours. “You fucking slut,” He growled. You glared up at him, your eyes briefly flickering down to his soft lips.

You couldn’t deny how attractive he was, the smell of cigarettes and cologne flooding your nostrils. You could faintly smell his conditioner from his head full of curls, his hair having grown a bit longer than the last time you had seen it. “Fuck you Riddle,” You spat weakly, your heart beginning to race. Tensions were rising quickly, the close proximity filling your stomach with butterflies. “Dont fuck with me princess, i’ll reach in that pretty little chest of yours and pull your heart out,” Mattheo huffed. He could feel adrenaline running through his veins, an odd mixture of rage and lust falling over him.

Your eyes, usually so fierce and viscous, seemed to be softening. Your pupils were blown, a familiar gaze of lust having fallen over your features. A silent war took place, one where neither of you wanted to make the first move. Heavy breathing ensured, fast heart beats, and intense eye contact were the only things stopping you from ripping each other apart.

You grabbed handfuls of his shirt, yanking his lips to yours. A rough clashing of teeth and tongues ensued, Mattheo’s hands quick to find your waist. He yanked you towards him, the taste of cigarettes and mint lacing your tongue as you both fought for dominance. You couldn’t give in to him. You couldn’t let him think he was in control. You pushed him towards the bed, struggling to reach your back zipper. “Having trouble princess?” Mattheo asked mockingly, smirking down at you. You tried to reach the zipper, straining your arm to do so.

“Shut it Riddle,” You snapped, face growing red with embarrassment. Fuck were you adorable. He reached around you, slowly pulling your zipper down. You could feel heat surging through your cheeks as your dress fell, leaving you almost fully exposed. You were a sight for sore eyes, Mattheo’s refusing to stray from you. “And to think you were hiding all of this under quidditch gear,” He mumbled, soaking in your figure. You rolled your eyes, fiddling with the buttons on his shirt.

“If you keep up all of this talking i’m going to change my mind. I’m not here for your witty comments Riddle,” You spat, your attention focused on undoing his button. He grabbed your wrist firmly, bringing you a mere inch away from his face. “You and that fucking mouth. If you want me to make you cum you’re going to get on your knees and put that mouth to good use,” Mattheo growled. You couldn’t help but feel your stomach flip at the sound of his words. You controlled every aspect of your life, even if you didn’t want to.

Someone so toxic, someone you despised, calling the shots turned you on beyond belief. You sank to your knees, undoing Mattheo’s belt. “There we go, that’s a good girl,” He praised. You pulled down his slacks, yanking down his boxers with them. His cock was bigger than you expected, your eyes widening in visible shock. “Weasley’s can’t compete with me, can they?” Mattheo asked mockingly. His taunting words snapped you out of your trance, your eyes shooting daggers up at him. You licked the underside of his shaft, purposefully dragging your tongue painfully slow.

Mattheo tried to conceal a groan, his hand automatically flying to your hair. He bit his bottom lip as you took him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around his slit. “Fucking shit,” He huffed. He pushed you down further onto his cock, your thighs tightening at the sensation. The feeling of being used was enticing enough. The feeling of being used by your arch rival, the same one you insult on the quidditch field, was euphoric.

You forced your jaw to go slack, encouraging him to face fuck you. Mattheo looked down at you with proud eyes, admiring his cock in your mouth. “You are so pretty like this, fuck,” Mattheo groaned. He bucked his hips inside of your mouth, gripping a handful of your hair. His cock abused your throat, saliva dripping down the sides of your mouth and pooling onto the floor. You finally gagged, the sound music to Mattheo’s ears. He smirked down at you, finally pulling out of your mouth to give you air.

“You’re so pathetic, on your knees for me like a whore,” He snickered. Tears were flooding your waterline, your doe eyes admiring Mattheo from below. You quickly rose to your feet, pushing him back against the bed. “You and that fucking tongue,” You muttered. You quickly stripped yourself of your bra and panties, both of you rushing to take off Mattheo’s shirt. Your eyes briefly studied the scars that stained his chest, different than the ones that covered his face.

For a brief moment Mattheo could see empathy flicker across your face, before your eyes went up to his. “This tongue has gotten me more places than yours ever could,” He bickered weakly, your exposed breast and cunt making his mouth water. Electricity was buzzing between the two of you, your hips straddling him. You rubbed your folds up and down his shaft, earning a moan from the brunette below. “You didn’t think i’d let you fuck me without putting that tongue to good use, right?” You asked mockingly.

You quickly repositioned yourself hovering over Mattheo’s face. His large hands cupped your ass, bringing you closer to his mouth. You let out a string of curses as his tongue began lapping at your cunt, teasing your hole and swirling around your clit. “Fucking shit, fuck Mattheo,” You whined, gripping and pulling at his chocolate curls. Mattheo gripped your ass harder, purposefully squeezing the flesh as rough as you were pulling his hair. In a swift motion he flipped you around, your back hitting the mattress below as Mattheo made himself comfortable between his legs.

He brought two fingers to your dripping entrance. “Interesting how wet this tongue has made you, isn’t it?” Mattheo asked, smirking as your walls eagerly accepted his digits. You groaned in response, your hips bucking upwards as his fingers curled inside of you. You bit your bottom lip, attempting to hide any of the sinful noises that threatened to escape your lips if you broke composure. Mattheo noticed, his fingers stopping right as they brushed against your g spot.

“You better start moaning my name or i’ll stop. Wanna hear those pretty sounds,” He threatened. You whined as you grinded pathetically against his fingers, his digits finally curling again. “Please please please,” You pleaded, a knot tightening in your stomach with each pump. Mattheo sucked at the skin in between your thighs harshly, creating small hickies on the sensitive skin. “Thats it, keep begging for me,” He chuckled, relishing in the sight of you pleading for him. You were at his mercy, his will for once. And fuck was it a satisfying position to be in.

Mattheo began drawing sloppy circles around your clit with his thumb, your fingers entangling themselves deeper into his curls. “Matty i’m gonna cum-” You warned, an unholy moan escaping your throat as you released on his fingers. That nick name. That fucking nick name. Mattheo finger fucked you through your high, the feeling of you cumming for him and moaning that nick name made his heart thump harder. Slowly he pulled his fingers out of you, repositioning himself above you. You looked dazed, your vision settling as his brown eyes stared down at you.

“Still think you can handle me princess? You look pretty fucked out to me,” Mattheo asked, playing with a strand of your hair. You blinked a few times, your vision settling on a cocky Mattheo. “You wouldn’t last a minute fucking me Riddle, don’t get too cocky,” You replied. Mattheo’s smirk fell, his hands quick to roughly reposition you. You arched your back as soon as you registered you were on all fours, your ass high in the air for Mattheo’s viewing. He bit his bottom lip as he gripped the flesh, bringing his tip to your aching cunt.

He rubbed his shaft up and down your folds, collecting your slick as you whimpered beneath him. He quickly shoved himself inside of you, not bothering to take things slow. You wanted rough? He’d show you fucking rough. “Dont pussy out on me, you can take it can’t you princess?” Mattheo purred. The pain began mixing with pleasure as he jerked his hips into yours, brushing against your g spot. “Fuck you Riddle,” You spat, trying to hold on to some sense of dignity. Mattheo leaned over, his voice assertive, “Oh I will.”

His time of being nice was over, his hips rutting into yours like a wild animal. You couldn’t control your moans as he fucked you, his cock mercilessly abusing your cunt to Mattheo’s liking. “Feels so so g-good Matty,” You whined. His large hand flew down to your hair, grabbing a handful and yanking it towards him. “Lorenzo couldn’t fuck you like this, could he?” Mattheo asked roughly. You responded with incoherent babbles and curses, his cock continuing to slam inside of you.

A sharp slap landed on your ass, causing you to snap out of your haze. “I asked you a question slut,” He huffed. You were so fucking pretty like this, begging for more underneath him. If he had known you were this tight, this addicting, he would’ve done this a long time ago. “No he couldn’t, only you,” You babbled, whimpering as he released your hair. Your mind went blank as he fucked you, any feelings of resentment and hatred fading away with each thrust.

He may have ruined your chances at winning the house cup, but fuck did he make you feel good. Mattheo was pounding you into the bed, strings of curses with mixtures of your name leaving his lips as he harshly gripped your waist. You could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, your walls squeezing him tighter. “Awe are you gonna cum before me? Really? That’s quite pathetic,” Mattheo huffed, sensing your oncoming orgasm. Warnings of your impending release were made, Mattheo’s thrust becoming impossibly faster.

“Fucking hold it, wanna cum with you, cum with me,” He panted, his cock twitching just in time. You grabbed handfuls of the sheets as you came on his cock, milking him dry for every last drop of his seed. You could feel his warm cum painting your cunt, his cock still buried inside of you. Mattheo didn’t want to leave your cunt, his heart feeling like it was going to burst inside of his chest. Slowly he pulled out of you, readjusting you gently. It felt odd, Mattheo’s fingertips grazing your skin as if you were fragile.

You rolled over onto your back, Mattheo laying beside you. “That wasn’t half bad Riddle,” You say, halfway attempting at a compliment. Mattheo smirked down at you, wrapping his arm around you. He brought you closer, pretending he didn’t notice your cheeks flush red. “Call me Matty,” He replied. A peaceful silence filled the room for a moment, the only audible sound being both of your breathing. It wasn’t in Mattheo’s nature to stay quiet for long, his next words leaving his lips without a second thought:

“That was pretty snakelike what you did, sneaking in here just to spite me. You sure you weren’t placed in the wrong house?”

“Shut it Matty.”

[beegomess]

Headcannons for when you’re sick??

Their care of you sick || Slytherin boys

Summary: You are sick, but your luck is to have your boyfriend at these times.

Warnings: None, just extremely cute and beautiful.

Requests are open!

masterlist here

Blaise Zabini

• Blaise would ask in detail about his symptoms and, if necessary, seek medical help or use potions for quick and effective diagnosis;

• He would regularly check your temperature and other symptoms, adjusting the care as necessary;

• Blaise would not miss classes, even if he wanted a lot, but he would always go to his dorm to find you out as soon as he could;

• I would always take you with meals;

• I would insist with you to get help from Madame Ponfrey until you accepted;

• He was very worried about you, even if it was just a sore throat;

• If you needed to spend the night in the infirmary, you would wake up with flowers next to your bed, since he could not enter to see her.

Draco Malfoy

• Draco would seek help from the best healers or Potion teachers to ensure that you receive the best possible treatment;

• Using his knowledge in Potions, Draco would provide potions and special treatments to accelerate his recovery;

• Draco is so stubborn that he would cancel any commitment to focus on you;

• He spent the day thinking about how he could accelerate his healing;

• I would buy more books for you if you needed to spend many days at rest;

• I would fight with any student who dared to make noise near where you rested;

• I would try to be as positive as possible with you, even if he worried a lot when his symptoms got worse.

Lorenzo Berkshire

• Lorenzo would maintain a positive and optimistic attitude, encouraging you to rest and recover without haste;

• He would always make you laugh, it was almost as if you weren't sick;

• His presence in his room was constant, so much so that Pansy joked if he had changed dormitory;

• Long games of board games, he would always let you win;

• You liked to read aloud when he was together, because he always maked fun of his novels throughout history;

• He left comments while you read, something you missed when you were reading alone;

• "Honey, this character is useless, I'm sorry.";

• He brought you the class notes, but they were not so complete, he lived with his head in the world of the moon thinking if you were okay with him far away;

• He left a flower under his cup every morning when he took his coffee.

Mattheo Riddle

• He would take care that you have access to light and nutritious foods, perhaps even preparing some special meals for you;

• Would convince the kitchen elves to give you something you like to eat;

• He would ensure that you had privacy and that no one bothered you, creating a quiet environment for your recovery;

• Mattheo would say that you don't have to see class things now, you have to recover;

• "Snape can wait, Y/N.";

• If you had to spend the night in the infirmary he would certainly find a way to be close;

• The way he did was to get into a fight and let his opponent punch him a little;

• He would certainly miss most of the classes, but at his request he would go in some;

• You made him collect class notes with other students even if he was stubborn in not passing you;

• You liked to get distracted during the day, so Mattheo would find a way to arrange different things for you.

Theodore Nott

• Theodore would prepare a comfortable room by adjusting pillows, blankets and temperature to ensure that you are as comfortable as possible;

• You had to tell him to go to class, if not, he would stay with you all day;

• Theodore would spend time by your side, reading to you or just being present, providing a quiet and comforting company;

• Long conversations at night, until you fell asleep next to him;

• His favorite pastime was to have Theodore lying on his bed, with his head on his lap, making a light caress on his hair while laughing at something;

• I would go to your dorm every morning before school;

• I would pay attention to your every move, seeing if you need help;

• I would prepare your baths as relaxing as possible;

• "Amore, which of these pajamas will you want to wear today?";

• If you went to the infirmary, he would insist to death with Ponfrey to spend the night with you;

• You would wake up and see him sleeping completely clumsy in an uncomfortable chair next to his bed.

Tom Riddle

• He would use your contacts and knowledge to ensure that you receive the best possible treatment, consulting the best healers and Potion teachers;

• He would regularly check your temperature and other symptoms, writing everything down in detail to adjust the care as necessary;

• I would ensure that you were not late in class, writing everything down twice and explaining everything that was seen at the end of the day;

• He would go to his dormitory whenever possible, but would still continue his chores;

• Tom would continue to do his usual things, but this time, he would do everything by his side, with his eyes on you;

• If you were stubborn and wanted to leave, Tom would be like a shadow behind you;

• Even though he looked cold, Tom used to stay by your side until you fell asleep, watching how beautiful you look when relaxing on his chest;

• He didn't use to say he loved you, but in cases like this, you always heard him whisper it near his ear, followed by a kiss on the top of his head.

_______________________________

A/N: I hope you have met your expectations. I love it!

xoxo, bee🫶🏼✨

[sunnami]

deleted draft/scene - watch me, don’t touch me, love me, don’t hurt me.

legitimately cannot write anything at the moment, so please have this for a bit T-T

“LILY, DARLING! That dress looks utterly divine! Is that Charmeuse silk? The purple simply brings out the color in your eyes! And your skin, my love! Just glowing! Tell me—have you been trying those snail facials? I hear they’re all the rage nowadays.”

Amidst the Yule Ball festivities, a crowd gathers in the corner of the icy ballroom; far beyond the ages of awkward teenage hand-holding, and an acquired taste for Firewhiskey rather than fruit punch. In the middle of it all—is you. Obnoxiously catching everyone’s attention, whether they like it or not. But even the Dementors in Azkaban would find themselves drawn to your shrilling voice and careless display of wealth; like a bee to a field of flowers. Your gown is dripping in black, hand-woven gothic lace, and drapes of ruffled, yellow satin skirts. It is a testament to your House—the cete of badgers. A pear cut, Canary Diamond necklace sits atop your neck. The capelet around your shoulders is of black velvet and gold trimmings. 

(Always the belle of the ball, but Sirius Black wonders if there’s anything in your head at all.)

(“Bloody hell.” Marlene grabs the flask of whiskey from Sirius’s hands and pours the burning liquid down her throat. “I’m going to need more of this if I plan on surviving the night. Surely there are more important matters to discuss than French designers and our frilly dresses. It’s like I’m back in sixth-year all over again.”

Sirius shakes the now-empty container in amusement. “And you thought stealing my stash was the best idea? Do you know how hard it was to sneak this in with Minnie glaring down my shoulders? I swear that woman treats me like I’m still fourteen.”)

“We work in the same castle, Lily flower, but it’s a pity we don’t run into each other much,” You say liltingly, lipstick staining the rim of your champagne glass. “Why, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were deliberately avoiding me!”

Lily flashes you a constrained smile. “On the contrary, I’ve been rather busy these days helping Madam Pomfrey in the infirmary. My responsibility, after all, is first and foremost—the children.” She raises a brow at you contemptuously. “Not all of us have the luxury of skipping work for tea and gossip.”

You hum, lips quirked in amusement. “Oh? That’s a shame. Narcissa and I would love for you to join us one day.” 

“Perhaps when I’ve no longer important things to do,” says Lily in a saccharine-sweet tone. 

You grow bored of toying with Lily—to her relief—and decide to throw a bone at Rita Skeeter. The bloodthirsty journalist preys hungrily at your every word—and you’re more than willing to satiate the irritable, little pest. You have nobles from pure-blooded families kissing at your feet for a moment of your time; entertaining a crowd like this takes no effort. (Except for the Marauders, you find. They’re the section that plays out of tune in the orchestra you’re conducting.) 

“You wouldn’t believe it, Rita darling, of all the people I come upon in Rome—it’s Vittoria Zabini!” You throw your head back in laughter as Rita’s eyes grow wide as a bug’s. “On a honeymoon, no less!” You wink at Rita. “This makes her fourth one now, I believe.” 

As predicted, Rita greedily whips out her Quick-Quotes Quill. “Riveting.” She pushes her glasses upwards with a quirk of her lips. “We may have tomorrow’s front page at our hands.” 

Lily hides a scoff by taking a sip of her sparkling beverage. “Surely we have more important news for the wizarding world than an innocent woman’s marriage.” 

You gasp melodramatically. “But this is Vittoria Zabini! Haven’t you ever wondered why her husbands mysteriously disappear after months of marriage?”

“Not even once!” Lily slams her glass down onto the round, draped table; nostrils flaring and chest heaving. “Sorry.” She dabs a napkin at her lips with a heavy exhale. “Please excuse me. I’ve just lost my appetite.” 

“Poor dear,” You mutter as the red-headed beauty makes for the group of Gryffindors a few feet away. She instantly collapses into James’s arms, no doubt complaining about your charming personality. There’s an odd ache in your heart as you watch the McKinnon girl pat her back comfortingly; Remus Lupin taking Lily’s hands and easing her anger. You’ve never felt a camaraderie such as theirs. Always the Gryffindors, and their flagrant displays of loyalty and whatnot. 

How repulsive. 

this was one of the first ever drafts for the fic! and no, the yule ball scene won’t be like this, it’ll be quite better, i hope. ;0

[weasleyreidstyles]

Serendipity

chapter four

summary: it was only meant to be a purely transactional relationship. he would help her strengthen her abilities in return for her getting his friends out of his father's nasty path. he didn't mean to fall for her, but loving her was the easiest thing in his dark world.

no use of y/n, but your general nickname is Meadow. All characters are aged up to be over 18.

pairings: mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw reader; platonic!slytherins x fem!reader; platonic!golden trio x fem!reader

warning(s): fainting, hospitals, talk of dark magic and curses

series masterlist; previous part; next part

Mattheo guided you to an empty carriage with his palm gently grazing the small of your back. If you were in your right state of mind, you'd shove his hand away. Probably.

But at that moment, he was the only person holding you upright. You had no idea what was wrong with you, what this overwhelming feeling was.

It's just the adrenaline, tesoro. It'll pass. Theo had barely spoken to you since school started, not including the few nights you'd been on patrol with him late at night or in Ancient Runes and Transfiguration. Everytime you interacted with Mattheo he seemed to become agitated, as though it wasn't his idea to have his best friend teach you control.

You sat in the far corner of the carriage silently as they deliberated what to do about the necklace that was floating between you all, and for some reason you felt an odd tingling, cold sensation wash over you as it came closer to you.

"Should we take it to Snape? Or straight to Dumbledore?" Zabini asked as he used his wand to rotate the antique, looking at it with distaste. Theo and Mattheo seemed to debate this as Enzo nodded in agreement immediately.

"No we take it to Madame Pomfrey." Pansy injects. "She's going to need to see what cursed Katie. So she knows how to heal her."

"She could've died." you say quietly into the warmth of your scarf. They all turn to stare at you. "The necklace is famously doused with a death curse. Over a few dozen muggles supposedly died instantly when they touched it with their bare hands. Had she not had her gloves on, she would have died."

They look stricken, as if this had not occurred to them at all. The air in the carriage went frigid, suddenly. And not because of the chill.

"All the more reason to get it to Dumbledore." Zabini insists, but you vehemently disagreed.

"No, Pans is right. Madame Pomfrey needs to see the necklace. I doubt she'll be able to treat Katie here, Hogwarts won't have the necessary resources for this sort of thing."

Zabini seemed to think on this and in the end you all agreed; when you reached the Hospital Wing where Katie Bell was writhing helplessly in a bed, you all but collapsed into Mattheo's awaiting arms.

~∞~

You've discovered that fainting is an odd sensation. One moment you felt fine, fine enough to function normally at least, then the next minute everything is a hazy void of nothing.

You wake up in a bed in the hospital wing, Hermione next to you, reading a muggle novel with a furrowed brow. She jolts up when she sees that you're conscious.

"You're awake. I'll get Madame Pomfrey, hold on." And she's off down the aisle of warded beds, back seconds later with the matron in tow.

Madame Pomfrey fusses over you for a moment, asking you all the generic questions, that you answer only with half-truths, before leaving you alone with Hermione once again when you answered sufficiently enough.

"How do you really feel?" your best friend asked, her face full of worry. "Harry and Ron wanted to be here, Ginny too, but they have Quidditch practice."

"I feel like I got hit over the head with a hammer." you say, your voice rough and hoarse. "What even happened? The last thing I remember is walking into the Hospital Wing."

"Nott said you passed out when you came to hand the necklace in. Riddle got you settled into bed and let Madame Pomfrey do her work. But she hasn't said what is implicitly wrong with you." she explained and you stared up at her incredulously.

"But I only fainted? It's not that serious, is it?" your anxiety spikes and, not intentionally, you blocked out Hermione's voice in order to get some answers.

I hear helped me into bed? I could've sworn you don't have a nice bone in your body, guess I was wrong.

You're awake. He sounds surprised...relieved.

Obviously or I wouldn't be communicating with you right now, would I?

Funny. His voice is filled with mirth at your sarcastic response. How do you feel, sweetheart?

Do you want the lie I told so that I could leave the Hospital Wing quicker, or the real answer?

I'd hope that all the time we've spent in each other's presence would warrant the truth, Meadow.

I feel like shit, Mattheo. I don't even know what caused it, I felt fine when we were in the carriage.

Did you? He doesn't believe you.

I mean– I think so, I– My arm doesn't hurt as much. Do you think that has something to do with it?

Maybe. Is Granger still with you?

Yes, why?

No reason.

Mattheo?

He doesn't give you a response.

Hermione is snapping her fingers in your face and calling your name as if she'd been doing it for a hot minute.

"Are you sure you're alright?" she asks, concern written all over your face.

"You know, I feel a little fatigued, I might try and sleep it off." you feel like the worst person in the world for lying to your best friend, but you want answers, and Mattheo seemed like the only person who would be brutally honest with you.

"Alright. I'll come back tomorrow with the others if you're still here after lessons are over." she smiles at you and guilt eats away at your chest.

"Thank you for staying with me, Mione." She squeezes your hand affectionately before she stands up and leaves you alone.

~∞~

Half an hour later it's not Mattheo who comes to visit like you secretly hoped for (but you were denying this to yourself vehemently). Instead Professor Dumbledore walks into the Wing with his usual grace and grandure.

"Good evening, Miss Meadows." he says cheerily as he stands before you bed. "May I sit?"

Bewildered, you nod your head silently.

"There's no need for the confusion," he says, clearly using Occlimency on you. "I see you have a good grasp on your mind. When did you learn to do this?"

"I like to learn new things." you say, brows furrowing at him as he gets comfortable in the plush seat beside your bed. He hums at your answer, rubbing his chin with the fingers of his good hand.

"I believe you experienced something rather....odd this afternoon." he began, his usually twinkling eyes holding an emotion that you could not place. "Can you describe it to me?"

"Um...I guess it started when we got closer to Katie and Leanne-" you start before cutting yourself off. "Actually, how is she? Katie? What happened to her?"

Dumbledore sighs as he answers.

"She was taken to St. Mungo's for treatment. They have far better equipped staff for dealing with dark curses. Poppy does not do that sort of healing."

"But she'll be okay?" you ask.

"She'll live, miraculously." he says before he focuses on you again. "Now back to you, Miss Meadow."

"Right. We were walking down the lanes, behind them and then I think they had stopped walking while they were arguing and it felt like an eery shift in the air. I don't know how else to describe it but then Katie touched the necklace and went up into the air. When she started screaming that's when Matt– Riddle– that's when Riddle and his friends turned up behind us. Enzo and Blaise went to find Hagrid and Ron, Theo and Riddle helped pull her down. I tried to help but when I touched her, my arm started to burn." you can fell the sting like a phantom now that you think about the pain.

"Interesting." he says as he pulls an old signet ring from his deep robe pocket, holding it out for you to take. "Can you tell me what you feel when you touch this, please?"

You do as he says and take the ring into your hands. Twisting it around your fingers, allowing your magic begins to swirl around it before it burns your fingers. You drop it in an instant. That same cold, tingling feeling you felt when Blaise rotated the necklace washed over you right afterward.

"It's cursed?" you asked, looking up at the Headmaster for confirmation, who is staring at you with knowing, inquisitive eyes.

"Something like that, yes." he says, his decaying hand twitches in response.

"Is that why your hand is like...that?" you ask, motioning to the appendage.

"Yes, rather nasty isn't it?" he says, tucking his hand away from your prying eyes. "I'm not sure what it is cursed by, but that is why I have asked Harry to befriend Professor Slughorn. I believe it has something to do with Lord Voldemort and Horis is the key to everything.

He ignores the way you instinctively flinch at the name. But thats when you notice that the ring that is still on your bed, holds the Riddle insignia. Mattheo's family crest.

"Sir, what's wrong with me?" you croak, as you turn the ring in your hands once again, letting your magic wash over it and dropping it into your lap when it zaps you with another stinging burn.

Professor Dumbledore removes the ring from your possession as he answers carefully.

"You're an incredibly smart witch, Miss Meadows." he states. "Professor Snape tells me of your incredible non-verbal abilities, and am I correct in assuming that you are also talented with wandless magic?"

You flush at this. "Yes sir."

"It is no surpise to me that your magic picks up on things that other witches and wizards may not." he says, tilting his head at you. "I believe you would make a good Unspeakable in the future, my dear. Or perhaps a curse breaker."

"What?" you ask, completely muddled by how cryptic he seemed to become. "Why do you say that? Shouldn't I be worried that I can somehow detect dark magic?"

"On the contrary...I believe it will be the most important skill you learn in this life."

With that note, he stands and with a simple goodbye leaves you lying alone in the bed with a thousand thoughts running through your head.

None of them bringing you any closer to a solid answer to the biggest questions you have:

Why the hell can you sense dark magic? Why did it cause your skin to burn? Why did it cause you to lose your grasp on consciousness?

~∞~

aaand the plot thickens...🤭🤭🤭

this was quite short but there will be more mattheo and meadow moments to come in the next one i promise xxx

comment to be added to the taglist!

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@camille-1019 @lovelyygirl8 @xluansstuff @babeylover @thejadeazalea @undercover-smutlover @adhxmoony @dreamingofonceuponatime @thepassionatereader @urmomsgayforme5 @aphroditeisamilf @devotedlycrookeddonut @purplegirls-posts @nofacenonamelikekira

[thefiery-phoenix]

YANDERE DRACO MALFOY HEADCANONS

Although Draco and Lucius are somewhat alike with their arrogant and pompous nature, he's a tad bit more softer to his lover and more.. understanding and caring than his dad

You won't even know he has an obsession with you and even he won't know it at first either. He hates the way you talk, laugh and smile since it always makes his heart race and stomach erupt with butterflies in a frenzy. And he despises it even more when you hang out with Harry, Ron and Hermione even more. He won't be too mean to you compared to them but you'll arrive at the conclusion that he hates you. But it's quite different actually

He'll be angry with himself for falling in love with you and even more so when he grows and becomes obsessed with you. He'll be staring at you during classes and during breakfast, lunch and dinner and he'll be showing off and bragging more around you to get your attention. You might be thinking that he's most probably planning to target someone to be their next victim of amusement or something but he's been watching you all along and noticing your every move. The way your graceful body moved and your long and lovely veela hair flowed around your shoulders and the way your eyes sparkled with joy when you were discussing about your favorite subject. Crabbe and Goyle might tease him about it till he tells them to shut TF up and Pansy might be a bit jealous of you but she'll move on. As for Zabini, well... he won't really care in any way

Draco is quite the stalker, no doubt about that. He'll be stalking you from the shadows or make other people stalk and follow you and tell him what you've been up to. He'll like tormenting and bullying you even more so but why does his throat clench and heart twist so much when he sees tears in your eyes or when you look and stare at him with a pained and hurt expression on your face?

Draco isn't one to show emotions and affection just yet. His way of showing love and affection towards his darling might raise a few eyebrows but that doesn't mean he doesn't care about you, of course he does! He just has a different way of showing it, that's all, but he'll stop after a while when he comes to know his feelings of love for you are really deep

He will do his best to make you think he's good and change your mind about him. You might think it's all a trick just for him to start tormenting you and bullying you all over again but it's not that at all, he just needs another chance to prove he's good and for you to love him! He might act like one god damn Tsundere but inside he'll literally be screaming 'NOTICE ME!!!!' Even if you look at him and give him some reaction be it good or bad, his day will be made like no joke. He LIVES for attention from you and that's also the reason why he keeps creating scenes where you're close just so you can witness the whole thing (I Don't know why this is making me laugh XD *WHEEZE*). Other people won't be so safe from not even his own people from his house! Be it Gryffindors, Ravenclaws or Hufflepuffs or even Slytherins for that matter, anyone else talks to you too long for his liking will be pulled aside by him for a little 'chat' till they run away crying or screaming or hexed

When you finally accept him, he'll be over the moon soaring in pleasure in joy and will make sure you become his lover in no time. He's selfish and will want MORE of your affection whether or not you're willing to give it. He might even ask someone turn him into a ferret just so you could pet him or laugh, he lives for such things. Draco will literally spoil you, taking you out frequently to the 3 broomsticks or Madam Puddifoot's teashop for some delicious warm Butterbeer, Honeydukes where you can enjoy that new candy they just got and he'll even buy you a quill from the quill shop there. He'll share his things with you when he gets parcels from his parents. He'll be really clingy to you and if you ask him to leave you alone for a while he will but he'll be back later. Oh, and as for Peeves, he doesn't dare to mess with you, not after Draco threatened him. I don't know what Peeves is scared of but whatever he did actually worked. And he'll also have Crabbe and Goyle carry your bags or things if you're feeling tired or he might do it himself to show you how strong and capable he is of taking care of you

Now when it comes to rivals, he'll just hex them and threaten them to stay TF away from you or he'll end up killing them. And he'll kidnap you later on but don't worry, he'll treat you really well. Unless you make him mad and call him a monster and all that. He'll be really sad and as much as he doesn't want to punish you, you have to be disciplined and so, he might lock you in a room and maybe mess with your dreams a bit that make you running back into his arms since he's skilled at Occlumency as well. He'll be smug inside that you're finally coming around and he'll stroke your hair and whisper how he'll always love you and nothing can ever separate the 2 of you. He'll be putty in your hands if you show hi affection and he'll give you anything and everything you could every want

As long as he has you by his side at the end of the day, that's all that matters. Anyone else doesn't matter in this world now, only YOU hold a special place in his heart

[cherryslyce]

Second Son (X) | Regulus Black

Series Synopsis: Forbidden from contacting Harry over the summer, you opt to explore the eerie halls of Grimmauld Place where you stumble upon a lonely portrait of the House's second son.

— Chapter Synopsis: Y/N faces the music and has a talk with Harry. Yule Break rolls around and Regulus makes a breakthrough.

Part IX / Part XI / Series Masterlist

Pairing: Regulus Black x GN!Reader

Notes: Little cliffhanger, oops. Also, yes, we are making progress towards learning the truth (more portrait lore, yay).

The watch stands for the Gryffindor versus Slytherin Quidditch match were brimming in excitement, the student body’s energy revitalized by the appointment of Ron as Gryffindor’s keeper. Standing next to Hermione, you can’t help the exhilaration that swims through your veins, glad that there was a buffer in the grim mood that shadowed over the school year. 

The sharp fweet of Madam Hooch’s whistle signals the start of the match, and enthusiastic shouts begin to erupt from all around you. These cheers only grew in volume as Ron’s flawless performance became apparent to all the watchers. 

You hadn’t realized your friend was this good.

As if reading your thoughts, Hermione leans over to you as Ron manages to knock away the quaffle again, “Harry dosed him with Felix Felicis during breakfast.” 

Quirking your head at the revelation, your eyes follow Ginny’s zipping figure around the field, thoroughly impressed by both Weasleys’ playing. 

“Somehow I doubt that. Harry’s sweet, but he’s not wasteful. There are better things to use the concoction on, no?” Hermione doesn’t respond to your words, but you feel her shift at the implications of them, likely agreeing. 

If your friend group were leading ordinary lives, using Felix Felicis on arbitrary things like Quidditch matches would be fine, if not expected, but with Voldemort lurking about, the liquid could probably be put to better use. 

As the game continues on, you’re hardly surprised when Gryffindor begins to lead by a landslide before ultimately coming out victorious. As everyone explodes in celebration, you quickly slink away from the boisterous crowd, not quite in a partying mood. You had heard Dean talking before the match, and he had mentioned that the party would be open to any house–though, you didn’t suspect many Slytherins would attend anyway.

You figured that the celebration would drag on for hours on end which gave you quite some time to wander without peering eyes.

Roaming the grounds of the castle for a while, you feel lonelier than usual, not having Regulus in your pocket. Despite the boy’s history as a quidditch player himself, he opted to remain in your dorm, stating that he needed peace and quiet. You couldn’t fault him, the both of you were feeling unnerved with every passing day as Harry seemed to pointedly avoid the topic of Regulus’ existence. 

A part of you hoped that he perhaps forgot about the whole ordeal or thought it to be trivial, but you knew he was likely just busy with trying to con Slughorn. 

Feeling the chill of the weather bite at your fingers, you decide to make your way back inside the castle. As you quietly pad through the halls, you’re shaken from your thoughts as a deep voice echoes around the walls, “L/N. Surprised to see you here.” 

Spinning around, you see a familiar figure walking towards you with a small smirk. The faint sag in his shoulders was the only indication that he was fatigued from the quidditch match. 

“Zabini. Shouldn’t you be off sulking with the rest of the Slytherin team?” Your words are tinged with amusement and you spin back around, knowing that the boy would eventually catch up to you. 

As you round the corner, Blaise manages to fall into step with you, “Moping has never been a strong suit of mine.” 

“I suppose tantrums would mar that whole quintessential gentility image you have going on. What about comfort? Is that something you’re adept with?” You weren’t sure what exactly you were hoping to achieve from the conversation, but becoming familiar with the Slytherin may prove beneficial in the future. 

Blaise lets out a quiet chuckle at your words, “Are you asking me to console you, L/N?” 

“Forget me, you’re not really my type. It’s your little peacock who seems awfully peaky as of late. He nearly bit my head off in the library the other day.” You roll your eyes, recalling the strange encounter you had with the Malfoy heir. 

The boy was acting awfully suspicious.

Blaise seems to straighten up at your words, eyes flickering quickly around the hall as he understands your insinuation, “Draco can take care of himself.” 

“If you’re sure.” Your words come out just above a whisper, and you’re left to your thoughts as Blaise seems content with just walking in silence. 

Not minding the boy’s presence, you began to think about possible avenues of research you could explore to try and solve the mystery of Regulus’ existence, wanting to find answers for not only yourself, but Regulus as well. Merlin, how the boy wasn’t mad for answers was beyond you. 

A few moments pass before you’re struck with a thought that has you pausing in your tracks. Blaise is quick to follow, turning to look at your contemplative expression, “Should I be worried that you’re plotting my murder, L/N?” 

“Quite the contrary, Zabini. How do you feel about making these meetings a regular thing?” Your smile is only a tad inscrutable, but you can see the interest glinting brightly in the boy’s eyes. 

“Are you sure you’re not interested in me, L/N? I wouldn’t fault you if you were.” His words have you rolling your eyes, but you can’t help the victorious feeling that bloats in your stomach as you see him let his guard down. 

“Really, you’re not my type. I’m just asking if you want to be…friends, I guess you could say.” You try to plaster on the most companionable smile you can manage. Come on Zabini, accept the olive branch.

Blaise hums in thought before turning around, and for a moment you’re afraid he’s going to ignore your request. Following him quickly, Blaise tosses you a small smile before replying, “I suppose you’ll have to tell me what your type is since we’re friends now.”  

You breathe out a small laugh, “Hard to describe, but let’s just say I have a thing for men that are a bit emotionally constipated. A touch of cynicism and awkward affection never hurt anyone either.” It was hard to put into words, but Regulus had a certain way of jarring you everyday, and his occasional niceties always had your stomach fluttering wildly. Not to mention your bloody patronus was all thanks to him. 

“A certain slytherin, then?” Blaise’s words come out light, but you can see the wild interest flying around in his gaze. 

Shaking your head, you can only sigh at the boy’s quick thinking, “How’d you know?” 

“Well, no one is better than me, but I suppose a fellow Slytherin is acceptable. Also, your ring. Two snakes? Subtle.” Your eyes shoot down to the ring you’ve been subconsciously twirling on your finger, and you gape at Blaise’s amused expression. 

Before you can respond, you’re both distracted by the sight of Harry and Hermione. The pair are sat at the bottom of the stairs, Hermione clearly upset over something, while Harry was trying his best to silently comfort her. Shooting an apologetic glance at the Slytherin, you’re met with a hum of understanding before he’s walking off. 

“See you around, Y/N.” 

As you wave at the Slytherin’s retreating figure, you see Harry shoot you a confused look. 

Great, another topic of conversation we need to discuss. 

Walking over to the pair, you crouch down in front of Hermione, whose eyes are red-rimmed and puffy from crying. 

“What happened, ‘Mione? Do I need to hex someone?” Hermione’s only response is a watery laugh before she’s wiping furiously at her eyes and nose. 

You look to Harry for an answer and he winces before quietly answering, “Ron and Lavender.” 

Well. That’s an unexpected pair. 

“Shall I kill the both of them?” Your voice comes out completely flat and serious, but it’s enough to have Hermione smiling down at you before seemingly calming herself. 

“It doesn’t matter. He can be with whomever he wants.” She is quick to jump up from her spot, “Now, I’ll see you both before dinner then?”

Without waiting for a verbal reply, Hermione clambers up the stairs and out of your sight, leaving you alone with Harry. The boy simply juts his chin at the newly empty spot beside him, looking at you with poorly veiled anticipation. 

Slowly lowering yourself down next to him, you both stare straight ahead in silence. It seems like hours pass as you both sit on the cold stone steps, hoping that the other would speak first. 

Harry slowly reaches for his wand, casting a quiet muffliato, before speaking, “So, Regulus Black.” 

“Yeah.” You nod slowly and fiddle with your ring, unable to bring yourself to say much more unprompted. 

Harry swallows harshly before continuing, “It wasn’t a photo, was it? I thought about it some more, and he was a portrait.” He turns his head slightly and chances a glance at you, “Right?” 

You bite the inside of your cheek in contemplation, unsure of how to respond to his remark without accidentally word-vomiting. 

“Cats out of the bag, I guess.” Your voice is weak, but you feel relieved when Harry looks over and smiles at you. Good to know he doesn’t hate you.

“Sirius doesn’t know.” It isn't a question, but rather a statement–one that has you hesitantly nodding. 

You lean your head down on his shoulder tiredly, mumbling out a small excuse, “Reggie wasn’t ready. We were figuring some things out for ourselves for a while, and he has this annoying gap in his memory that I’m trying to learn more about.” 

“Reggie?” You feel Harry turn his head down to peer at you, “Okay. Uhm, you don’t have to tell me everything now, but maybe when he’s up for it, you can bring him round to Sirius?” 

Tugging your jacket tighter around your curled form, you nod against his shoulder before whispering a small thanks to the boy. It wasn’t the lengthy exchange you were expecting, but you weren’t upset about how it went. Actually, this was probably the best case scenario. 

“So…Blaise?” His words are teasing and you’re surprised that he’s not accusing you of colluding with the boy, especially given how suspicious he’s been of Draco. 

Groaning at the implications of his words, you shake your head fervently, “Absolutely not. We’re just friends, kinda. Honestly, he’s not so bad and I’m hoping that it can be a mutually beneficial friendship. Blaise’s mother has connections spanning the entirety of Europe, and I’m hoping that maybe I can learn some more about Regulus’ predicament if I get some help.” 

“I see. If not Blaise, then Regulus?” Harry’s finger pokes into your ribs as he tries to fight the wide grin pulling at his lips. 

“What?” Your voice comes out strained, but bewildered and it has Harry smiling cheekily. 

“Well, he is quite handsome isn’t he?” Harry pauses before continuing, “Not as handsome as Sirius, though.” 

Shaking your head, you respond woefully, “I will absolutely be telling him you said that. But is there something you want to tell me? I thought you were tripping over your own feet for Ginny?” 

Harry emits a loud groan and gently shoves you to the side, ears flushing beet red. You laugh at your friend’s disgruntled expression and bask in the happy moment, satisfied that you lifted his spirits up. 

The following weeks spin by in a blur, and you’re barely able to take the time to appreciate how uneventful it was. It was the night before Yule Break and you were draped over one of the library tables, head pressed against the cool wood as mountains of scrolls and parchments surrounded your motionless figure. 

You had packed away your things the night before, excited to spend the break with Harry and Sirius at Grimmauld Place (of course, you secretly had your own agenda). Harry was planning on heading to the Burrow for the second half of the break, which would leave you to attend to the recovering Black Lord by your lonesome. 

Hopefully, you could enlist the help of Remus so you could sneak away and explore. 

‘Have you died, little bird?’ Regulus’ voice is airy as it rings in your head. 

‘Unfortunately not. Mind putting me out of my misery?’ The sudden exchange has you peeling your heavy eyes open to stare at a blank parchment next to your head. Your bleary vision slowly warps and dances before focusing. 

‘You’ll have more than enough time to finish work over the break. Go rest unless you wish to miss the train tomorrow morning.’ 

‘I won’t miss it, I have you, my little alarm clock.’ Your tone is sickly sweet, and you could almost feel the way Regulus rolls his eyes at your words. Though, you supposed he was right, it would do you little good to be sleep-deprived on the first day of break. 

Beginning to sort through the mayhem of papers on the table, you barely hear his response, ‘It is truly unfortunate that I am unable to dump water on you then.’ 

‘How gauche, Reg. Besides, you wouldn’t. You love me too much.’ 

Reg doesn’t even pause before he retorts, ‘I’m keen on tough love.’ 

‘Not my observation, you’re a big teddy bear.’ Your smile doesn’t falter, even when you hear footsteps echoing nearby. 

‘A little ironic coming from a bleeding heart.’ 

‘Oh hush, don’t act like it runs for anyone other than you.’ You feel your face heat up at the admission, realizing that it was the farthest you’ve ever gotten at verbalizing your feelings. 

‘I suppose we both make exceptions for each other, birdie.’ 

His words have your face blossoming in warmth, and your hand pauses to hover over your bag. The drumming of your heart failed to cease even as you laid down on your bed later that night. In fact, it only grew worse when Regulus shot you a teasing smile as you rolled over to peer at his portrait. 

Merlin.

The start to your Yule Break was confusing to say the least. 

It was merely your first day back at Grimmauld Place and a sudden swelling of magical energy coming from your pocket had you frantically pacing back and forth in the disappearing room.

Regulus’ portrait had suddenly thrummed with wound up magic the moment Sirius stalked over to give you a firm hug as you settled into the home. The reaction was almost instantaneous, with Sirius even drawing back in confusion, having felt something faintly draw at his magical energy. 

You were quick to make an excuse to run up the top floor, practically barreling through the familiar door once you caught sight of the crystal knob. 

Regulus was currently propped up on the dresser, eyes glazed over as he remained unresponsive. You could feel Sirius’ magic wrapping around the frame and interlacing with the faint magic emitting from the object, only further piquing your curiosity.  

After a few more rounds of circling the room, you’re dragged from your pool of thoughts at the sound of Regulus’s voice. 

“Birdie.” It comes out strained, like he was still trying to sort out his thoughts. 

You practically fly over to the aged furniture, pressing your hands against the edge of the dark wood in worry, “Reg. Are you okay? What happened? Should I do something?” 

Regulus smiles softly at the flurry of questions, curls shaking as he tilts his head, “One question at a time. But yes, I’m alright. As for what happened…that’s a bit more convoluted.” 

“It’s okay, take your time. Sirius thinks that I’m off organizing my classwork anyway,” You drawl quietly. 

“Good thinking, my brother was always amusingly frightened by academic diligence.” Regulus’ musing has you propping your elbows on the dresser, keen on allowing the boy to guide the conversation. 

“Frightened he may be, but I think he’s fond of me now that he knows I’ve saved his life, twice.” You raise two fingers and wiggle them for emphasis, managing to nick a small grin from Regulus. 

“I remembered something. When Sirius hugged you, it seemed to dismantle some kind of block in my memory.” Regulus’ words come out dryly, but he’s still smiling at you like you hung the stars in the sky. 

You feel your eyes widen at his words, “That’s fantastic, Reg!” You pause before leaning back, “Right? That’s good, right?” 

The boy nods, before he sweeps a hand to push back his curls, “It’s amazing. Overwhelming, but amazing. It’s just, with the block gone, I remember everything. Including that two week gap before my death.” 

Your breath hitches, “So, human-Regulus put the block into place then?” 

Regulus nods slowly in confirmation, “Yes. Why he did it though still remains a little fuzzy to me. As of now, I only really can make sense of a few details, mostly about the Dark Lord.”

Your lips part as you try to formulate a coherent sentence, but you’re too surprised by the revelation to say anything, so Regulus continues, “Birdie, the Dark Lord was creating horcruxes. That’s likely how I met my demise. I remember it. Shortly before I–human-me disappeared, he was frantic over it.”

“Horcruxes?” The word feels bitter on your tongue, but you fall short on an answer for what it might mean, “I haven’t heard of such a thing before. Do you reckon that Harry has?”

“I think so. If not him, then Dumbledore might have an inkling of suspicion.” Seeing your questioning gaze, Regulus sighs and lifts his eyes to meet yours, “I’m not too familiar with what a horcrux is exactly, but I do know it’s a horrifically dark artifact. One capable of splitting someone’s soul through means of murder.” 

“Soul splitting? That sure has ‘Voldemort’ written all over it.” Your breathy laugh does nothing to relieve the sudden pressure in your chest, realizing that Voldemort was much more than just a psychotic wizard deluded by prophecies. 

Shaking your head, you force your anxiety aside, “It’s okay. If Dumbledore has an idea of it, then maybe there’s still a chance after all. Let’s skip over this right now, it’ll do us no good to spoil Yule so early. We can approach Harry about it after the break.” 

Regulus slowly nods, he too, investing his hopes in the eclectic headmaster, “Alright. There is something else I remember. I don’t know as much about it though since human-me was a bit hush hush on the subject. That, or he thought it wasn’t worth indulging after the whole horcrux news.” You bite down a laugh as Regulus rolls his eyes at the thought.

“Oh? Do tell.” You lean forward on your toes, pressing your weight fully on the dresser. 

“It might be in one of the boxes here. It’s some kind of rare book or journal that my Uncle Alphard gifted to me the year everything fell into chaos,” Regulus relays. 

Perking up, you quickly shuffle over to the dusty boxes in the middle of the room, bent on finding out what the boy was talking about. As you rifled through the endless pool of miscellaneous items, your fingers suddenly bump against a leathery surface at the bottom of a particular buried box. 

Fishing out the promising item, you let out a triumphant cry as you hold the book up in the air, “Reggie, is it this one?” You clamber off the floor and practically thrust the tome into the portrait. 

“Bingo. Good job, little bird.” Regulus’ words are colored in excitement and you’re reluctant to take away the book to read the title, knowing that Regulus was eager to look at the book as well. 

Slowly, you retract the item and flip it over, reading the words etched across the dusty orange cover. 

Fuck.

“It’s in Norwegian!” Your cry of dismay has Regulus raising his eyebrows. 

Seeming to take pity on your defeated form, which was slowly sinking onto the floor again, Regulus quickly comes up with a solution, “Birdie, just use a translation charm.” 

“Oh. Right.” You frown lightly at the realization, profusely apologizing to Professor Flitwick under your breath. Some Charms maven, you were.

“Don’t get too excited yet. You should go eat something, I can feel your brain fog from here,” Regulus’ teasing only draws a groan from your slumped form. 

Whipping out your wand, you cast a quiet reducio at the book, thankful that the disappearing room seemed to block out the trace on your wand. You were careless when you first shrank Regulus’ portrait before fifth year, forgetting about the underage magic trace, but luckily the Ministry never owled you a letter of warning. 

Tucking away Regulus and the leather book in your pockets, you swiftly make your way out of the room and down the dimly lit stairs, hands reaching to rub your empty stomach. One thing you didn’t miss during your times at Grimmauld Place was the lack of proper food. Kreacher could cook decently when he wanted to, but he never really seemed to spare an effort when Sirius asked. 

As you enter the threshold of the kitchen, you see a delighted Harry seated at one end of the table, and a flabbergasted Sirius at the other end. 

“Hey guys, what’s up?” Your voice interrupts the silent conversation they were having, with Harry turning to face your approaching figure. 

In spite of Harry’s active attention, it’s Sirius who speaks up, crossing his arms over his chest as he smiles widely, “Prongslet was just telling me about his success in Potions.” 

You nod enthusiastically at the reminder, “Harry is on his way to a Potions Mastery at this rate. Slughorn is practically yodeling his praises.” Your words have Harry rolling his eyes, but Sirius seems even more pleased at the reaction. 

Clapping your hands on Harry’s shoulders, you bring up a pressing matter to the men, “Now, how about we continue this chat over lunch, I’m starved.” 

The next few days of your break are spent following a routine of reading the tome, eating with Harry and Sirius, and surprisingly, exchanging letters with Blaise. 

The Italian heir was quite entertaining to communicate with, even through letters. You both established an unusual bond, and you found yourself finding common ground with him over your interests in dissecting anachronistic pureblood traditions. Blaise was surprisingly progressive about a lot of the political issues that wracked Britain, having grown up in Italy for a long while. 

Apparently British purebloods were the only ones on the upkeep about blood purity. 

You had spent about four days at Grimmauld Place before Harry was off sending a letter to the Burrow, notifying the Weasleys of his approaching visit. 

You were a bit dispirited to have him leaving so soon, but you knew he was eager to see Hermione and Ron (and Ginny, but he would likely send a stinging jinx at you for saying as much). 

It was the day after Harry had left when you decided to do your research more openly, knowing that Sirius had little concern about what books you were reading. As you progressed in your studying of the Norwegian tome, you realized that the book was concerned with discussions and theories on magical essences and their temperament, which was interesting to say the least. 

You could feel it. The truth behind Regulus’ portrait was somewhere in this book.

Though you knew very little about the capabilities of magical essences, you realized that you were much more in tune with reading and feeling other wizard’s magic, so if anyone could figure it out, it would be you. No, it had to be you. 

“Are you sure you didn’t want to tag along with Prongslet, kid?” Sirius’ voice has you raising your head from your reading, the man casually propping his feet on the opposite end of the table. 

“If I’m not here, who will look after you, old man?” You mused. 

Sirius huffs in indignation, “I’m not some pallid geriatric. I’ll be fine on my own. Besides, wouldn’t you rather be off with Molly? I know it’s not my cooking that’s keeping you here.” 

“If you keep complaining, I just might regret my decision. But nah, I like it here. Plus the Burrow is too loud to get work done.” You droned as you brought your gaze back to the text in front of you. 

“Your head is always halfway down a book, kid. You know…you remind me a lot of my brother, he was a huffy scholar growing up.” Sirius’ voice is even, but as you flicker your eyes up to meet his, you can see the undeniable grief lingering in them. 

Sitting up, you clear your throat, “Your brother? Were you guys close?” 

You already knew the answer, having been given a brief rundown of Regulus’ homelife sometime ago during a sleepless night at Hogwarts. 

“Merlin, no. Not when we were older at least. But he used to follow me around as kids, toddling after me with his cherub cheeks and wobbly knees. Admittedly, he was adorable as a youngster. Never had anyone look up to me like he did…then my parents sunk their claws into him.” Sirius seems to be reminiscing more to himself now, words growing quieter with each passing second. 

“Do you miss him?” Your question is barely above a whisper. 

Sirius raises his eyes to study you for a few moments before somberly tapping his knuckles against the table, “Everyday.” 

Reaching into your pocket, you wrap your fingers around the familiar frame, looking back down at the table in contemplation. 

‘Reg...’ 

‘It’s okay.’ Regulus’ words are quiet, his voice sounding choked up. You could tell he was touched and relieved by his brother’s words, unable to hide just how much he missed the man. 

With his approval, you decide to take the leap, “Sirius, I think there’s something you should know about.” 

The man’s eyebrows raise at your words and he leans forward in interest. You inhale shakily as you steel yourself, confidence wavering as different scenarios flurried around in your head. 

Before you can unveil the truth, however, a blast of blue light bursts through the wall and makes its way to the center of the table. 

A stag. 

The appearance of Harry’s familiar patronus has your blood running cold and you leap up from your seat, seeing Sirius slowly rise from his, as well. 

“The Burrow has been attacked. Voldemort knows.” 

The patronus dissipates, and you suddenly can't breathe.

He knows.  

tag list: @krazyk99 @venomsvl @valsarchives @bunny24sstuff @novella12nite @elia-the-bibliophile @txoru @xlifexdeathx @trikigirl271 @the-marauders-world @sleepydang @blueberry-thrawn @lestat-whore @chanaaaannel @clockworkherondale @peachyaeger @thegayhoenextdoor @l--absinthe @ok-boke @anni1309-blog @summer-noir @mikeikax @mysticlockwood-ig @musically-ambiguous @dittos-blog-dylanobrien @friendly-neighborhood-boricua

[hoggleswart]

oliviette: 14, 16, 18 !

MISC.   SMALL   DETAILS   ASK   MEME        .   .   .        (      accepting!      )

IS   THERE   A   SOUND   THAT   DRIVES   THEM   CRAZY?

The   sound   of   people   ignoring   them   mostly.      As   a   professor,      inane   chatter   in   Etta’s   classroom   is   strictly   forbidden.      You’re   either   paying   attention,      contributing   to   the   class,      or   you’re   out.      No   nonsense.      Oliviette   is   someone   who   finds   irritants   in   the   smallest   of   inconveniences   sometimes,      so   I   imagine   anything   that   doesn’t   reach   her   standards   can   be   considered   annoying;     loud   music   that   steps   outside   her   usual   classical   taste      /      crying   babies   when   she’s   trying   to   enjoy   her   meal   at   a   restaurant      /      her   date   chewing   their   food   too   loudly.      Anything   that   interferes   with   how   Etta   likes   things.  

WHAT   IS   THEIR   FAVOURITE   FLAVOUR   IN   FOOD?

Etta   has   a   rich,   expensive   palette.      She’s   grown   accustomed   to   a   certain   decadence   that’s   allowed   her   to   enjoy   the   finer   things   in   life,      including   food.      With   high   expectations   wherever   she’s   eating,      she’s   always   looking   for   a   strong   combination   of   flavours,      as   well   as   a   personal   pleasure   of   tasting   a   wide   variety;      dishes   from   worldwide,      as   opposed   to   having   just   the   odd   favourite   dish.      As   far   as   she’s   concerned,      one   of   life’s   greatest   luxuries   is   exploration      &      adventure,      and   she   puts   that   into   food   just   as   much   as   she   puts   it   into   history.   

WHAT   HOUSEHOLD   CHORE   DO   THEY   ABSOLUTELY   HATE   DOING?

Madam   Oliviette   Honorine   Zabini   does   not   do   household   chores.      She   hires   staff      &      house   elves   for   those.  

[hssrarepairs]

🍬 Gifts for the mods ! 🍬

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🍰 FIC: Secret Santa for @hssrarepairs !

Ship: Hermione Granger/Theodore Nott Rating: General Length/Medium: 1.3k words Tags: Fluff, Secret Santa, Post-war, Hogwarts, Mystery Summary:

A week before Christmas holidays, someone starts sending Hermione gifts.

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🍰 FIC: Keep Quiet (and I'll Ruin You) for @hssrarepairs !

Ship: Regulus Black/Barty Crouch Jr. Rating: Explicit Length/Medium: 1.6k words Tags: Smut, Secret Relationship, Bondage, Black Family Angst, Pain and Pleasure, Trans Regulus Black Summary:

Regulus is all for anything pleasurable and that goes against the family wishes. Being tied up by the boyfriend no one knows he has and fucked between bets falls under that category.

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🍰 FIC: Just a Quintet for @hssrarepairs !

Ship: Sirius Black/Hermione Granger/Harry Potter/Charlie Weasley/Blaise Zabini Rating: General Length/Medium: 670 words Tags: Fluff, Polycule, Soulmates, AU, Drabble, The Grim Lives Summary:

No Summary because Blaise doesn't want to share the summary, he feels it gives to much away like the title just kidding. Blaise has trouble waking up two of his bond mates.

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🍰 FIC: Teacups & Tankards for @lumosatnight !

Ship: Madam Puddifoot/Madam Rosmerta Rating: Mature Length/Medium: 9.5k words Tags: Second Wizarding War, fluff, falling in love, slow burn, mild sexual content, attempted assault, vandalism, arson, imperius curse, mention of murder Summary:

Bea and Ros are best friends who learn love and trust as they suffer loss and heartbreak during the Second Wizarding War.

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🍰 FIC: Blossom Pink for @venom0usbarbie !

Ship: Fleur Delacour/Narcissa Black Malfoy Rating: Teen Length/Medium: 340 words Tags: Seduction, Infidelity, Minor Fleur/Bill, Gringotts Wizarding Bank, Implied Sexual Content, Implied Smut Summary:

Mrs Malfoy visits Gringotts. Fleur can’t help but take notice.

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🍰 FIC: Purpling for @bronwenackeley !

Ship: Sirius Black/Kingsley Shacklebolt/Severus Snape Rating: Teen Length/Medium: 900 words Tags: Second Wizarding War, Implied/Referenced Torture, Spy Severus, Hurt Severus, Angst, Loneliness, Complicated Relationships, Secret Relationships, Implied Sexual Content Summary:

There, on Sirius’s neck, just beneath the cut of his jaw is a bruise, fresh, still purpling. The perfect size for a pair of lips to have latched on and sucked in a moment of ecstasy.

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🍰 ART: What in Merlin's Name is That for @lumosatnight !

Ship: Lucius Malfoy/Arthur Weasley Rating: General Length/Medium: Digital Tags: Fluff, Digital Art, Old Man Yaoi, Rubber Ducks, Idiots in Love Summary:

Lucius kindly did not point out to Arthur that the thing in his hand is an abomination (He's a simp). Arthur is just happy to yap about his lil rubber ducky.

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🍰 MOODBOARD: take of my fruit by AlihotsyTotsy for @emilyrickman !

Ship: Narcissa Black Malfoy/Ron Weasley Rating: Mature Length/Medium: Digital Inspired by: take of my fruit by @emilyrickman Tags: ubious Consent, Lust Potion/Spell, Auror Ron Weasley, Pie, Fantasizing, moodboard, Smut, Banners & Icons, Made on Canva Summary:

Auror Ron Weasley gets more than he bargained for when he answers a call from Malfoy Manor. Moodboard for take of my fruit by AlihotsyTotsy

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🍰 BANNER: Greenteeth by Schmem_14 for @schmem14 !

Ship: Pansy Parkinson/Ginny Weasley Rating: Mature Length/Medium: Digital Inspired by: Greenteeth by @schmem14 Tags: lktales, Horror, Creepy, MCD, The Black Lake, Murder, Angst, Banners & Icons, Made on Canva Summary:

Pansy might be in love with Ginny, but she's afraid of the menacing presence that threatens to ruin it all. Ginny might be in love with Pansy, but not enough to stay where it's safe. Banner for Greenteeth by Schmem_14

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🍰 GUESSING GAME: What's that ship? for @nanneramma !

Ship: Surprise relationships! Rating: General Length/Medium: Ship Guessing Game Tags: Metafiction, Ship Names, Headcanon, moodboard, Made on Canva, Guessing Game Summary:

Welcome to "What's that ship?" where I, your very sleep-deprived and possibly deranged host, show you some pictures and ask you one simple question.

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View all gifts on AO3! 🍫