#oliver wood christmas

[7s3ven]

ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS YOU. oliver wood

( master list )

IN WHICH… Nothing would make Oliver Wood happier than getting a new broom as his Christmas present. That, or Y/N Malfoy finally noticing him. When the two collide at Hogsmeade, Oliver is overjoyed. Perhaps this Christmas, he’ll get two gifts.

“I just want you for my own, more than you could ever know. Make my wish come true. All I want for Christmas is you.”

—

“Ah, he’s staring again.” Fred Weasley nudged his twin brother George and pointed over at Oliver. “Do you think he’ll ever actually talk to her?”

“I’ve seen them talk once.” George uttered, his mouth full and his cheeks puffed out. “It was in their second year.”

Fred lightly snorted and waved a hand in front of Oliver’s face. “Wood, you there? You’re drooling this time while staring at her.”

Oliver was snapped out of his trance by the twins’ loud laughter. He frowned. “Knock it off.” He told the pair, taking a sip from his goblet.

“Oh, come on mate, you gotta talk to L/N otherwise she won’t even know you exist.” Fred sighed and quickly added, “And quidditch talk doesn’t count.”

Oliver huffed and rolled his eyes. Talking to Y/N was an almost impossible feat, not just to him. She was Draco Malfoy’s older sister and was basically untouchable. She was Slytherin’s prized queen and the chances of Oliver even being able to talk to her with her posse around was close to zero.

“I’ll talk to her eventually.” He uttered the same excuse he had been using since fourth year. His crush had lasted way too long but he was still determined to win Y/N over.

She wasn’t like the other Slytherins with their mean glares and tendencies to outcast people who weren’t pureblood. She was… nice. Her friends, however, weren’t.

“You’ve fancied her since third year, Oli.” Fred uttered, “Probably before that as well! Just make a move already!”

Oliver’s crush hadn’t begun during first year. It had started before that when he was rushing around Diagon Alley trying to find all his school supplies.

Oliver panted as he attempted to catch his breath. All afternoon he had been rushing from shop to shop to find all the books he needed for his first year at Hogwarts.

He held a pile of novels in his arms and momentarily stopped to marvel at the window of a broom shop. His awe was short lived as someone crashed into his back, sending his supplies everywhere.

“Ah! I’m sorry! I just wanted to look at the new broom!” A H/C-haired girl hurried to pick Oliver’s things up. She shoved everything into his arms, apologizing again.

“You… like Quidditch?” Oliver asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Huh? Of course. Who doesn’t? My father took me to see a game once and it was amazing. Some day, I want to join Hogwarts’ team.”

It was as if Oliver had met his dream girl.

“You’re going to Hogwarts too?!” Oliver exclaimed, his eyes sparkling.

“Yeah! I assume you’re also going, so maybe I’ll see you around.” She outstretched her arm to shake Oliver’s hand, but a black cane pushed her back.

“Don’t socialise with the trash, Y/N.” A man with long blond hair uttered, scowling. Oliver instantly recognized the man as Lucius Malfoy.

“I’ll see you around, Quidditch boy!” Y/N shouted as her father led her away.

That day, Oliver was reminded of where he stood in the scheme of things. He was a lowly half-blood while Y/N came from one of the most esteemed families.

Ever since that day, Oliver had been a little frightened to talk to Y/N, just in case she also referred to him as trash.

Y/N never did end up joining Slytherin’s Quidditch team. Her brother did instead. Oliver guessed it has something to do with her refusal to cheat, and Slytherin was infamously known for cheating.

“Say, are you going to Hogsmeade today, Oli? Perhaps to do a little last minute Christmas shopping?” George questioned, his lips curling into a smirk that could only mean one thing. Trouble.

“If you want to play one of your stupid pranks on me, forget it.” He stood up and silently walked away.

“Ah. He’s in a bad mood because of Y/N again. Jeez.” George rolled his eyes as he stabbed his fork into a carrot.

Oliver was going to visit Hogsmeade, but only to look at Quidditch shops and browse through the technique books. A Hufflepuff girl had asked him out, but he politely refused her offer.

Oliver shoved his hands deep into his warm pockets as he trudged through the thick snow. Hogsmeade wasn’t as busy as it usually was, but that was probably because most sane people wanted to avoid the cold.

The Quidditch captain made an immediate beeline for the broom store. He smiled as he gazed at the window display before entering.

“Good morning!” He kindly greeted the owner, who was an old lady hard of hearing. He immediately walked towards a shelve of books, running his finger over the hard covered spines.

The door opened again, the rusty bell attached to it quietly chiming. “Good morning, Gen!” A feminine voice shouted, piercing the calming atmosphere. Oliver peeked through the books, curious as to who the newcomer was. He could see their winter outfit but not their face.

The girl skipped over to the books, standing on the opposite side of Oliver. She locked eyes with him, and he could see her eyes squint as he smiled, meaning it was a genuine one.

The pair occasionally glanced at each other, jumping when they accidentally made eye contact. The girl tucked a strand of H/C hair behind her hair, quietly humming under her breath. She walked around to the other side of the bookshelf, almost crashing into Oliver.

His heart leaped in his chest as he grabbed Y/N and steadied her. “Sorry.” He said, not being able to muster up any more words.

Y/N silently stared at his face before she gasped. “Oh! Quidditch boy!” She exclaimed, grinning. “I knew I recognized those eyes!” When Oliver sent her a confused look, she laughed. “I’m the girl from Diagon Alley! Before first year, remember?”

“I remember… I’m just wondering why you do.”

“I spent most of my first year looking for you! But I never got your name so it was a bit hard. Then when you joined the Quidditch team and played your first match, I recognized you. I wanted to talk to you after but you seemed to have so many fangirls. I got shy!It’s been ages, jeez. How are you?”

Y/N grinned, an action that set butterflies free in Oliver’s stomach. His cheeks flushed red as he nervously smiled back.

“I’ve… been good. How about you? You never joined the Quidditch team.”

“Well, I don’t exactly like Flint and Draco is already on the team. They don’t need two Malfoy’s.” Y/N sheepishly smiled and laughed.

“I saw you play as a chaser during flying class. You were great. You should join the team some time.” That compliment coming from Oliver Wood, Gryffindor’s very own keeper, was a huge deal. “You’d be a wonderful addition. If only you were in Gryffindor.”

Y/N quietly laughed. “Maybe we’d actually be able to spend time together.” Her gaze flickered to the book Oliver was grasping, “Are you going to buy that? I’ve been looking for a copy of it.” She smiled, and Oliver didn’t have the strength to keep the book to himself when she was looking at him like that.

“No.” He uttered, “I was only looking at it. Here.” He handed it to Y/N.

“Are you sure?” She asked, to which Oliver nodded. “Thanks. I’ll let you borrow it. See you at school, Oliver.” She grinned again, skipping off to purchase the book.

Oliver stared at the ground, chuckling to himself as his cheeks turned rosy red.

School was finally coming to an end. Thank goodness. Oliver didn’t know how much more studying he could take before his brain gave up.

He returned to his dorm, tired and relieved to finally be returning home today. From his dorm, he heard his friends gasp.

“Ay, mate, there’s something on your bed for you.” One uttered as Oliver ended.

He tilted his head to the side and glanced at his mattress. A badly wrapped present sat on it along with a small card and the book he had let Y/N take.

Oliver grabbed the card, curiously staring at the cursive writing.

Consider this an early Christmas gift and my overdue apology on my father’s behalf (for calling you trash). You’re fun to talk to and I hope to see you around next year.

Merry Christmas, Oliver.

- Y/N

Oliver peeled the wrapping paper, almost choking when he saw the newest edition broom. It was shined and groomed to perfection and Oliver was sure he was going to pass out from excitement.

He slowly grasped the book, opening to the first page that was tabbed by a green sticky note.

On the blank page was the writing,

Merry Christmas, Oliver Wood

And underneath was the signature of Oliver’s favourite Quidditch player.

“She’s freaking amazing.” Oliver muttered under his breath, wondering how Y/N had even managed to pull all this off.

Oliver flipped through the pages, noticing how Y/N had annotated the book on his behalf. He was only falling deeper in love.

“I’m going to find Y/N.” He announced to his friends, who cheered.

“Go get ‘er, tiger!”

Oliver hurried out of the common room, wondering where on earth Y/N would be. The castle was huge, it would take him all day to find her. Luckily, he spotted Draco Malfoy walking down the corridor.

“Malfoy.” Oliver called out.

Draco sighed, rolling his eyes. “If you’re looking for my sister, she’s at the Black Lake. Don’t tell my parents you like her otherwise my stupid ship will be ruined.” And with that, he walked off.

Oliver ignored his odd words and rushed to the Black Lake. He saw Y/N sitting alone and humming to herself as she picked at the green blades of grass.

“You didn’t have to get me a broom, you know.” Oliver said, startling Y/N. She jumped slightly.

“You scared me! It wasn’t that much anyway… and it was on sale. So you don’t need to worry.”

Oliver spluttered. Not that much money? It was more than him and his friends’ bank accounts! Even if they combined all their money, it still wouldn’t be enough.

“The book by itself would have sufficed.” Oliver uttered as he took a seat next to Y/N.

“Yeah. But I had to up my game because other girls were eyeing you up.” Y/N grinned as she stood up, dusting the dirt off her skirt, “Merry Christmas, Oli. See you next year.”

Oliver spent his days before Christmas with the Weasley twins and more of his friends. Even Harry Potter was there. But one person was missing, much to his disappointment.

On Christmas Eve, he pondered what Y/N’s words at the Black Lake had meant. “I had to up my game because other girls were eyeing you up”. Did Y/N… like him back?

Oliver sighed, rushing to turn the lamp on his desk on. He pulled out a thick piece of parchment paper and began to messily scribble down his thoughts and everything he didn’t have the courage to say to Y/N in real life.

Oliver stared at his letter, sighing. He tried not to think too much as he rolled it up and sent his owl to the Malfoy Manor.

Meanwhile, Y/N was sitting by her window, relaxing as the fresh breeze blew through her hair. She heard a quiet chirp and opened her eyes to see an unfamiliar brown owl in front of her. It cooed and tilted its head.

Y/N slowly took the letter that was attached to the owl’s leg and got comfortable before she unravelled it.

Dear Y/N,

I know this letter may be unexpected and strange, especially since it’s Christmas Eve but those words you told me at the Black Lake are still stuck in my head. It feels a little lonely without you around. I’m going to be honest here… and hopefully you won’t laugh at how I pour my heart out.

I like you, Y/N. Not just for your looks or your family. You’re gorgeous, but there’s so much more to you that other guys can’t see for some reason. You’re kind and caring and you may as well be in Hufflepuff. Your ambition is admirable and you really know how to light up a room, even if it’s a room as big as the Great Hall.

You don’t look down on other people because they aren’t pure blood or come from a family like yours. Instead, you help them. There’s so many qualities that make you stand out from the crowd and I’m not expecting a reply any time soon, but I just thought you should know all this.

Santa Claus won’t really make me happy with a toy on Christmas Day. Y/N, I just want you for my own, more than you could ever know. Please Make my wish come true. All I want for Christmas… is you <3.

- Oliver Wood

P.S, thanks for the broom and book. I’m still trying to find a gift to top that.

Y/N’s lips curved into a smile as she read Oliver’s letter. Her room door was suddenly slammed open. Y/N couldn’t react fast enough and all she could do was place the letter face down on her bed.

“Father.” She greeted him, surprised that he was even home. He was supposed to be on a business trip. “What… are you doing here?”

“Receiving love letters already, Y/N?” Her father carelessly grabbed the parchment, his gaze scanning over the beautifully crafted words. After a moment, he nodded. “What is his blood status?”

Y/N looked at the ground, thickly gulping. “… Half-blood.” She uttered after a second of hesitation.

Her father silently nodded, his stern face never changing. “I’ll allow it.”

“W-What?” Y/N stumbled over her own words. Ever since she was young, her father had preached about the importance of marrying another pure blood so this was entirely out of character for him.

“That Wood boy…” Her father thought for a moment before clicking his tongue, “He’s staying at the Weasley’s house. The elves have packed your bags already. You leave tomorrow morning.”

Y/N was speechless. Was this her father or a random intruder?

“Good night, Y/N.” And with that, he left. Y/N sat on her bed, her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to process what had just happened.

A knock on the door interrupted breakfast for the Weasley family, Oliver, Harry, and Hermione.

Oliver, as charming as ever, stood up. “I’ll get it.” He offered, walking over to the door. He twisted the door knob and yanked it open, coming face to face with Y/N.

She smiled. “I hope I’m not intruding.” She uttered, peeking over Oliver’s shoulder. “I just wanted to quickly say one thing.”

Oliver could feel the prying eyes of Fred and George and he exasperatingly sighed, shutting the door behind him. “Yes?” His heart leaped in his chest as Y/N leaned forward with a grin.

“I like you too, quidditch boy.”

[blackbat05]

New Beginnings

Oliver Wood x Autistic! Reader

Plot: It's your final Christmas at Hogwarts but that doesn't mean you can't make new friends. While working at the school library, you meet a certain Qudditch Captain who has been observing you for longer than you think.

Genre: PG-13 (warning: suggested degrading terms towards people with special needs but not explicitly mentioned)

A/N: It's that time of the year and my obsession hasn't gone away actually, it's just been dormant. And what better time of the year to do a new character, one that I actually crushed on by simply just reading the books. Thanks @the-slumberparty for letting this gal write so many fics for end of the year!

Prompts in Bold!

***

It was a quiet day at the library. The semester break had just started and this meant that many students would be heading back home for the holidays.

You decided to stay at Hogwarts. Your friends expressed their pity but quickly forgot your supposed “plight” as they jabbered on about their holiday plans. Instead of cramped concert venues where wizards and witches would be rubbing all over each other, you decided to take on a position as library assistant at the school library. It was your final semester and you were going to miss this place. Soon, it would be the harsh environment of the working world and you weren’t quite ready to face it yet.

Apart from a student scribbling on his parchment, the library was empty. You decided to flip through the papers, looking at potential job openings for an educator at a school for young wizards and witches with special needs. You marked potential jobs with your wand, not noticing the young wizard in front of you.

“Oh my god! You scared me.” You jump a little at the sight of his burly figure.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, scratching his head sheepishly. “I was hoping you could help me find this book?” He passes you a piece of paper with the title scribbled on it.

“Professional Qudditch techniques?” You raised your brows, looking at the boy over the paper. You knew that you were talking to the Captain of Gryffindor’s Qudditch team. “I believed Madam Pince told me to stock this yesterday. Come along Wood.”

“You know who I am?”

A small smile forms on your lips. “Hard not to when your part of the Furious Seven.” You see his bemused expression and add on hurriedly, “I mean that’s what some people call the team.” You head down the aisle with Oliver Wood trailing behind you like a lost puppy. “Here it is!” You beamed, passing him a thick magenta book.

Oliver beams and thanks you. “So, are you not going back for the holidays?”

“Nah. My family’s inviting relatives over and I don’t really want to answer their intrusive questions. Especially since we’re in our final year.” You say drily and Oliver solemnly nods in understanding. “Besides, I wanted to stay for the school’s Christmas dinner and celebration. I won’t be coming back next year so I want to have a magical Christmas. What about you? Surely you can’t be studying.”

He laughs, “Nope. I was hoping to practice some moves for the professional Qudditch tryouts next year. I’m trying out for Puddlemere United’s reserve team.”

“That’s great!” You say sincerely. “I hope you make it.”

“Thanks Y/N.”

You pause in your tracks, looking at him curiously. “How do you?”

“Know your name?” Oliver finishes helpfully. “Hard not to know the Witch who is advocating for the rights of Wizards and Witches with special needs and doing a far more excellent job than those in the Ministry.”

“You read my posts?” You refer to the commentary on the school’s newspaper and an independent newspaper from the Ministry that you were involved in.

“Of course I did. I’m not going to be reading whatever purist rubbish that the Ministry has.” Oliver responds. The two of you reach the counter and he waits for you to check out his book.

“Um. I was wondering if you’re free tomorrow. Since it's Christmas Eve.” He adds hastily as you looked at him curiously.

“Sure. I would like to get a book from the local bookstore. Perhaps we could have a few butter beers while we’re at it.” You suggest. Oliver grins and you can’t help but to match his as well. You’ve never talked to him for this long before and you’ve only seen him from afar at the Qudditch matches. Kind of odd really that he’s reaching out before the lot of you graduate.

“It’s a da- deal!” He agrees a little too loudly as Madam Pince shoots her head out from one of the shelves and gives him a glare. You giggle softly.

“It’s a deal.”

***

You meet Oliver at the entrance to Hogsmeade. You can’t help but to notice that even all under that clothing, Oliver’s physique was still prominent. You prayed that the cold weather would cool your cheeks.

“Shall we?” He offers and the two of you trudge along the snow covered path.

Despite the two of you only having a real conversation the day before, it felt as if like you've known him since the very beginning. As the Captain of the Qudditch team, you always thought that he would be unapproachable and up there. On the contrary, he was charming and jovial, making you laugh at an incident that he recounted on the Qudditch field.

"You know a lot about the sport." Oliver remarks as you also added in your two cents on the recent match between the bottom two teams on the league table.

"My dad watches it. He's a huge fan. I think the two of you will get on swimmingly."

"Why didn't you join Qudditch then?" Oliver asks. He clearly remembers in first year of broom practice with Madam Hooch, you were one of the few students who could control their broom with ease and even managed to have a good swing at the practice bludgers Madam Hooch threw at you.

"Let's just say that I was a free spirit." You enter the warm bookstore and greet the saleswizard who directed you to the newest releases. Satisfied with your find, you retrieve another book and thrust it into Oliver's hands.

"I didn't want to say anything while Madam Pince was there but this is the newest version of Professional Qudditch Techniques. It has a few extra pages at the back that discusses Puddlemere United's training system and why its so effective."

Oliver is about to reach out, presumably to pay but you have a tight grip on the book. "A Christmas present." You tell him.

You hurriedly look away and Oliver can't help but to notice how your sniffing due to the cold (and also nerves at your attempt to get closer to him). He doesn't know the actual reason for your sudden sinus of course so he wraps his scarf around your neck. The saleswizard gives you a playful grin and shake your head furiously while Oliver is engrossed in a sports magazine, blissfully unaware.

Your last stop for the day was the Three Broomsticks. Oliver orders two mugs of butterbeer that you force yourself not to down with relish.

"Thanks for today." You nurse your mug. "I really enjoyed it. Best Christmas ever."

"So did I. My parents wanted me to be home for the holidays but I'm glad I made the right decision." Oliver has an unreadable expression and a honey-like gaze that would have gotten you stuck if you were transfixed on him any longer. The bell to the Three Broomsticks rings, signaling new customers and also the change in Oliver's expression.

"Flint." He hisses and you turn around to see the Slytherin Captain with a bunch of his cronies snarling at Oliver. Flint had a nasty grin plastered on his face. Oliver takes you by the wrist and you end up sitting beside him as the group approaches menacingly.

"What do we have here? I didn't know you had time to pick up girls?" Marcus Flint's slimy undertones made your skin crawl. You unknowingly grip Oliver's hands tighter under the table. You never liked the whole lot of them. For a very good reason as well. They would constantly make hateful and degrading comments at the cause that you were championing, even going as far as harassing you anonymously with thinly veiled death threats. You couldn't catch everyone, but you knew Marcus was one of many.

"Sod off Flint." Oliver shoots but obviously falls on death ears. In fact, this eggs on Marcus' taunts. His eyes fall on you and narrow into slits. You almost shrink into a ball and this does not go unnoticed by Oliver.

“So, L/N. Written any tasteless posts lately?”

Your mouth goes dry and Marcus continues to launch his assault on you. He turns to one of his cronies. “Hey, did anyone see that post about how wizards and witches with special needs should be able to attend schools?”

A snort of assent goes around and you go bright pink, fighting to keep your temper down in a public place.

“What a whole lot of dung that was. Hogwarts is already ridden with blood traitors and mudbloods. We certainly don’t need more charity cases.”

This time, you find yourself holding onto Oliver whose knuckles have gone red. He knew that both your parents were muggles.

“Did you know?” Marcus says to no one in particular but his voice is annoyingly loud. “I’ve heard a rumor.” His smile is almost sinister. “Y/N here is apparently… a special needs witch as well. A reta-”

Before Marcus can get another word out, a loud sickening crunch could be heard from Oliver’s fist coming into contact with Marcus’ jaw.

“You keep your bloody mouth shut Flint!” Oliver was shaking in rage. “Y/N, let me at him!”

“Oliver stop! He’s not worth it!” You hold him back while Marcus is held up by his cronies. “Please!” You stand in front of him and this seems to snap Oliver out of his rage induced trance. “Get lost before I break your hand next.” He snarls.

Marcus keeps his mouth shut but is shaking from fury and embarrassment from the attention that the scuffle had attracted. He storms out of the establishment, cronies slithering behind him. The Three Broomsticks resumes its normal hustle, leaving you and Oliver to clean up the mess that was a result of the fight.

You stay silent throughout the rest of the trip, all the way back to Hogwarts. Oliver thinks that he’s royally screwed up this time and is wrecking his brains on how to apologize.

“Come on in.” You tickle the pear and the door to the Hufflepuff common room opens. “Let me see your hand.”

Oliver blinks but doesn’t say anything. He follows you quietly into the common room that was thankfully empty.

“Sit.” You direct him to the sofa as you rummage through the shared medical supplies. You wordlessly take his hand and Oliver goes stiff as a gargoyle. Working your magic, the bruise on Oliver’s hand is virtually non existent and doesn’t feel sore when he grabs the cup of water on the coffee table.

“Thank you.” You speak up. “No one ever has done that for me.” You throw the last of the medicinal jars into the kit, returning it back to its original place with a flick of the wand.

“It’s what I would have done. You’re a hundred times better than them, pureblood or not.” Oliver states. Curiosity crawls up his neck and he wants to ask about the unsavory rumor about you floating around Hogwarts. But you beat him to it first.

“When I was four, I wasn’t hitting the typical milestones a wizard or witch would. My parents were worried and sent me to every muggle doctor and therapist in hopes that I would get better. It was a tough journey but with my parents’ support, I’m able to be here today.” You explained. “That’s why I’m so passionate about what I do. Because I see myself in them. Hell, I am them.”

“I didn’t know.” Is all Oliver can say. You smile sadly.

“I didn’t tell anyone. Despite what I’m doing, you’ll be surprised that there’s still stigma surrounding the magical world regarding special needs wizards as witches.”

A lull of silence falls between the two of you.

“Well, you’re still the same in my eyes.” Oliver insists. “Beautiful, brave and bold.” He realizes what he had just said and goes beet red. You can’t help but to think it’s adorable.

“Thanks. For believing in me.” Before you can even understand what is happening, the door to your heart has opened. You feel vulnerable but strangely… you’re okay with that. You lean forward and give him a kiss on his cheek.

The sight in front of you is hilarious - Oliver holds a hand to his cheek, mouth slightly agape. You laugh at his apparent shock and you don’t know where you get the bravery or confidence from.

“Do you need me to kiss you again?”

Oliver snaps out of his stupor and this time it’s his turn to leave you stuttering. “Yeah. I need you to kiss me properly this time.”

A pair of wolf whistles emit from the entrance of the common room and you see a familiar pair of redheads with identical grins.

“Way to go Cap!”

“And we thought you were only married to Qudditch!”

Oliver rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Piss off you two.”

George Weasley raises his hands up in mock surrender. “Don’t your get your pants in a twist Wood. We just wanted to tell you that Christmas dinner is starting in ten. We couldn’t find you in the common room so we’ve been looking everywhere.”

“Everywhere except here apparently.” Fred adds helpfully, dodging a cushion that Oliver throws his way.

“Don’t be late!” The twins singsong and leaves you two alone once again.

"I'm so sorry about those two." Oliver groans. To his surprise, you didn't look the slightest bit mad. You shift closer to him and Oliver has to steady his heart as you look at him.

"Can I hold your hand?"

Oliver goes slack for a moment. It's funny if he thinks about it. You've kissed him on the cheek for Godric's sake! But like on the Qudditch pitch, he recovers quickly and takes the lead instead, reaching out to grab your hand that slots perfectly with his. As you leave the common room and head to the Great Hall where you can already hear the festivities in full swing, Oliver stops abruptly.

He looks so serious that you wondered if he completely malfunctioned from the moment you two had in the common room.

"You forgot something," Oliver says and you feel his lips on yours. He slowly parts, observing your expression with a lopsided grin. "A kiss."

A cold gust of wind brushes by and the two of you look out to see the first snowfall of your last year at Hogwarts. "What do you know? First snowfall of our first day together."

Once you snap out of your trance, you playfully smack him on his broad shoulder and he sprints away from you.

"You are a cheeky one Oliver Wood!" You yell.

"Yeah?" He turns around, stopping right outside the entrance of the Great Hall. "But at least I'm yours! Hey! Everyone!" He attracts attention from everyone in the hall - students, professors and even Headmaster Dumbledore himself. "I'm finally going out with Y/N L/N!"

You run after him as loud whoops from the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff table could be heard. Even the faculty were exchanging serene smiles at the sight of young love despite the imminent tough times that were about to descend on them any moment.

It was your last year at Hogwarts. Your final Christmas celebration with a place you called home for the past seven years. But with every ending, comes a new beginning.

In this case, one that involved a very charming Qudditch Captain who saw you for who you were.

[digthewriter]

FEST: A Very Weasley Christmas

Title: a good morning | Pairing: Oliver/Percy

[swolocup]

New thought:

Oliver wood owns a muggle camera.

Am I going to elaborate? Yes

Oliver totally got one from Percy in their fourth year during Christmas.

Oliver was talking about how he wished he was able to take photos of the team so he could make a bulletin of their set up.

Percy was happy to oblige and make his friend (boyfriend) happy.

Some of the photos also have just goofy things of the team.

For example:

The first photo Oliver took is a blurry photo of Percy in the Gryffindor common room with a large smile on his face holding a book on the “Greatest ministers of all time”, a gift from Oliver of course.

One photo has second year Fred and George pretending their beater clubs are swords.

Another photo includes Percy in his bed, hair tousled and he is clutching his stuffed bear. (Oliver keeps this photo in his pocket and kisses it before every match.)

There is a photo of Katie Bell going to swing at Fred for turning her owl into a bell. “Look at your Bell, Bell!” “DIE IN A PIT, WEASLEY!”

There is a photo of Percy studying, nose scrunched up and glasses on the very top of his nose as he looks down at a book he’s reading.

[sleep-i-ness]

Commentary of the Heart (Part 1)

Synopsis: You've been pining after Oliver Wood for months and maybe the Christmas break is finally your chance

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST | GENERAL MASTERLIST | PART 2

Oliver leant against a wall, watching the revelry with a barely touched drink in his hand and an air of lethargy hanging around him. An odd heat crept up the back of your neck as he tugged his tie loose, running a hand through his still-damp hair (and no, you were not going to think about him in the shower). You eyed him with a burgeoning sense of frustration; it was frankly unfair. No one had the right to look that good after being pummelled on the Quidditch pitch for a good few hours. Not least of all when the Dementors had made an appearance.

You thankfully had the good sense not to air these frustrations to your circle of friends, although Angelina was looking at you far too intensely for your comfort. At least Fred, George and Lee were too busy chasing down shots to pay much attention to your straying focus. You loved them, you really did, but you’d rather die than have them find out that you were pining over their captain. They had enough to tease you about without this on top of it all.

The common room was bustling with fifth years and up from every house; no one could ever say Gryffindor was a sore loser. You tilted your head as Oliver sighed, staring at his drink without taking a sip and your eyes narrowed slightly. Angelina nudged you and you jolted, whipping your head round with a guilty smile.

“Go talk to him,” she murmured, and you glanced behind her at the boys, who were far too invested in pouring out more shots to eavesdrop.

“Who?”

Angelina just gave you a look and you smiled sheepishly.

“Fine.” You took a deep breath and raised your voice slightly for the boys. “I’m just going to get myself another drink – that doesn’t consist of pure alcohol.”

“Boring!” Fred called after you in a sing-song tone and George just laughed as you stuck out your tongue in response. You wandered over to the table on the side, topping up your cup with pumpkin juice and after some deliberation, red currant rum. It wasn’t as if you were searching for the finest concoction you could muster, more just a form of a liquid courage. At the sight of the sour look on Oliver’s face, you added another dash of rum to your cup.

It didn’t look or smell horrendous, but you held your breath anyway as you swallowed it down before making your way over to him. Oliver’s brow furrowed as you walked up, coming to a stop just in front of him.

“Nice work out there today,” you smiled softly up at him.

“Thanks.” He mustered a tired smile in response, and you raised an eyebrow.

“Shouldn’t you be out on the floor drowning your sorrows with your team?” As if listening to your conversation, a loud whoop came from behind you, and you glanced over your shoulder to see Fred attempting to down a pint of Firewhisky with Lee and George cheering him on. You didn’t even want to know where he’d got that from, but you were pretty sure you’d be having to help carry him up to bed. You stifled an urge to roll your eyes as liquid dribbled down his chin and turned back to Oliver. “Or are you too busy mourning today’s loss alone? I see your shower-drowning attempt wasn’t successful,”

Oliver rolled his eyes and swirled the amber liquid in his glass, pursing his lips. “Just not quite in the mood to be getting as wasted as Fred seems to be doing.”

You shrugged. And then added with a laugh, “I can always take that drink off your hands if you’re feeling particularly responsible and sober tonight.”

“Hey,” Oliver laughed, lifting up his glass to dodge your hands, “I didn’t say that, now did I?”

You held your hands up in surrender, lips twitching. “I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t going to waste.”

He raised an eyebrow, and you beamed, blinking at him as innocently as you could muster. At his rather insistent scepticism, you dropped the act and switched tacks. “Got any Christmas plans?”

Oliver sighed. “Staying here for the vac. Apparently, I need to spend more time studying instead of on the pitch. And that’s not going to happen during termtime.”

“And it’s going to happen during the Christmas break?”

He shrugged. “Might as well try. What about you?”

You wrinkled your nose. “Not quite sure yet, probably staying here but it depends on my parents’ work. They’re abroad at the moment and the timings aren’t certain so I’m mentally preparing myself for a quiet holiday here.”

“Fred and George staying as well?”

“They’re going home, invited me along and everything, but I can’t impose myself on the Weasleys again. They were kind enough over the summer.”

Oliver nodded, taking a long swig from his glass and you withheld a laugh.

“Well, it’s nice to know you’ll be around as well,” you offered, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “If you ever need a study companion, just let me know – I should probably get a head start on my O.W.L. revision considering how much free time I’ll have.”

“You’re far more forward-thinking than I was in Fifth Year.”

“Well, not all of us can rely on our superstar Quidditch abilities to get us a job after this,” you teased, noting with delight the pink tinging his ears.

“I wouldn’t say superstar-”

“Nonsense, Ollie,” Fred interrupted, slinging an arm around his shoulder, and you smirked at the slightly resigned expression on his face. “Now, come do shots with us and celebrate those absolutely beautiful saves today. Come on, you as well, trouble. You’re basically our mascot now.”

You rolled your eyes. “I swear to Merlin, Frederick Weasley, if that is another jab at my hair today, I will hex you blue.”

“Uhh,” Fred offered intelligently, eyes widening comically. “No?”

“The famous Weasley wit, ladies and gentlemen,” you spread out your arms, smirking at the stifled chuckle from Oliver at your side. Fred furrowed his brows, jutting out his lower lip as you watched him attempt to formulate some response whilst equally making sure that your hand didn’t slip any further towards your wand. He’d been on the receiving end of your jinxes before, and he did not want a repeat of the duck incident. He’d had an odd craving for bread for a good few weeks after.

Luckily for him, George swept in with a slight head shake to his brother and a glass pressed into your hands, meaning you were far too busy to pull out a wand and make good on your threat. That did not mean you lessened the glare you were giving Fred, who merely continue to pout at you and batted his eyelashes.

Fred darted off to round up the cavalry, dragging over a more-than-reluctant Alicia from where she was hiding out in the corner with a slightly dishevelled Lee and you shared a knowing look with Angelina.

“Right, fuck Hufflepuff and let’s drink to Harry’s good health!”

You whooped wholeheartedly, flushing as Oliver glanced at you, and quashed the rising embarrassment with the sting of Ogden’s Old.

-

You rubbed your eyes blearily as you stepped out of the Common Room, making your way down to the Hall. It was already oddly silent in the castle’s corridors, a sure sign that most students had already departed for the Christmas holidays, and you sighed. Nothing but studying and boredom awaited you over these next few weeks, and even the Christmas festivities couldn’t encourage Madame Pince to be a little laxer in the Library or Snape to smile for once. At least you could take solace in the fact that you weren’t totally alone; that was, if Oliver actually wanted to spend time with you. You weren’t going to hold your breath, but a small traitorous part of you whispered that now was your chance.

You trailed your fingers along the banister as you wandered down the staircase to the Great Hall; no need to hurry and get caught up in the rush of students leaving. Breakfast would wait for you, and besides, it wasn’t as if you’d slept in. You’d hesitate to say that nerves had woken you up early, but there was no better way of describing the butterflies swirling in your stomach.

Before you’d even managed to get down the stairs, you felt a rush of breeze before something solid collided with you and forced the air out of you. You stumbled backwards into a hard object, hands flying outwards to steady yourself. Once you’d regained your balance, you dropped George’s arm with a grateful smile and turned to Fred with a frown.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that! You’re not going to see us for a whole two weeks, how are you going to survive?” He pouted, ruffling your hair. You whacked his hand off your head with narrowed eyes and he gulped.

“Maybe I’m looking forward to some peace and quiet.”

“Oh, don’t be like that, darling.” Fred slung an arm round your shoulders, tugging you in close. “You know you’re going to miss us.”

“Mm, I think you’re probably going to be missing me more,” you teased, breaking out from under his arm to slip next to George’s side.

“Why does he get all the love? You can’t go around picking a favourite twin like that!”

“Oh, shut up, Freddie,” you sighed half-heartedly, grin tugging at the corner of your lips. “It’s only two weeks anyway.”

“Two weeks that you could be spending with us at the Burrow, though,” George interjected, and you spun round with an accusing finger outstretched.

“You’re meant to be on my side!”

George shrugged. “I didn’t realise this was a sides thing. Besides, there’s plenty of room at the Burrow; Ronnie has decided to spend his holidays here with Harry and Hermione, much to Mum’s displeasure.”

“I can’t,” you sighed. “I’ve got to catch up on the work that some evil twins have been distracting me from.”

“Boring.”

You stuck your tongue out at Fred in place of a retort and he just sniggered.

“You’re definitely sure you want to stay here?” George murmured, placing his hands on your shoulders and looking you deep in the eyes. You tilted your head at him, smile pulling at your lips at his worry.

“Yeah, promise. I’ll write you loads, and you better respond this time,” you teased.

“Worth a try,” he shrugged. “We’ll see you in two weeks, then.”

And he turned to follow his brother down the stairs and out the doors.

“Don’t miss me too much!” You called after them in a sing-song voice, and George just waved goodbye in response.

You sighed as the doors swung shut behind them with a clang. Hogwarts had never felt like such a prison. And part of you was deeply regretting not taking George up on his offer. You stared into the middle distance, hand gripping the railing, as you pursed your lips. You could already picture a Weasley Christmas, the bustle, the food, the familial affection, the laughter, and it made your chest ache just a little.

It wasn’t your parents’ fault that they’d been sent out on a work trip over Christmas; the Auror Office wasn’t known for being the most considerate of public holidays, but sometimes you wished that they worked nice normal 9-5s, home for dinner and there when you needed them.

“Everything alright?” A deep voice startled you from your little pity party and you spun round with a guilty look on your face.

“Oliver!” You cried, pressing a hand to your thudding heart. “You made me jump!”

“Yeah, you looked a little out of it there.”

You flushed. “Just… thinking.”

Oliver’s eyes narrowed slightly, and his brows furrowed, lips slightly pursed (not that you were thinking about his lips) but his gaze remained steady and unwavering, almost like he was trying to see straight through you.

And then his face relaxed into a soft smile. “Have you had breakfast yet?”

“No, actually,” you were grateful for the change of topic, “I was just on my way there.”

“Care for some company?”

Your stomach turned slightly, churned up by the rise of butterflies fluttering, or more accurately, racing around but you managed an answering smile. “I’d love some.”

-

“Psst.” The hiss cut its way through the silence that hung over the library, just quiet enough to avoid Madame Pince’s wrath, although you could already picture the witch glancing up with a stern look on her face. You, on the other hand, stared harder at the writing on the page, hoping that maybe if you focused just a little bit more, the specifics of wand legislation would Defodio themselves into your brain, etching themselves permanently into the tissue of your memory. The letters began to blur as you reread the same line over and over again; Clause Three of the 1631 Code of Wand Use is also known as the ‘Wand Ban’, stating that ‘No non-human creature is permitted to carry or use a wand… Of course, you understood why History of Magic was important; not repeating the same mistakes, learning from our past, blah blah, but it had to be the dullest thing imaginable. And Professor Binns didn’t exactly help with that.

“Psst!” Your head slipped from your hand with a jolt, and you glanced up, lips twisting into a grimace as you made eye contact with Oliver from across the library. You raised an eyebrow. He grinned and tilted his head towards the door as he pushed his chair back with a screech and bundled his books into his arms. You sighed, before mirroring his actions.

He kept his pace slow until you fell into step with him, giving you a grin as you rolled your eyes.

“Revision going well then?” You murmured, shooting a look towards Madame Pince’s desk and making eye contact with the beady eyed witch.

Oliver waited until you’d gotten outside of the library to respond, holding the door open for you and shooting Madame Pince a wink as she glared at the pair of you. “You’re one to talk. You could barely keep your eyes open in there – and how many times did you reread that same page?”

You huffed, crossing your arms and refusing to make eye contact with him. He did have a point. “It’s not my fault that wand legislation is perhaps the dullest topic I have ever had the misfortune of learning about.”

“I see you’ve really chosen the exciting stuff to kick your revision off with,” he laughed and you elbowed him.

“Where are we off to then?”

Oliver tapped his chin in mock thought, and you couldn’t help the giggle that made its way out of you, accompanied by a rising flush in your cheeks. Merlin, you were obvious. Tittering like a thirteen-year-old around her crush, like everything he said or did was the funniest thing ever. It wasn’t your fault he made you laugh.

“Well, I was thinking a nice flight around the castle to clear our heads.”

A grin tugged at the corner of your lips. “You read my mind. But I’m the one casting the Impervius charm this time. Honestly, Ollie, you’d think as a Seventh Year you’d have a better grasp on charms than a Fifth Year.”

He scratched the back of his neck with a sheepish look. “Charms has never been my strong suit.”

“Well, when you can save a goal like you can, I can understand not needing to put effort into your schoolwork. Surely you’ve got your whole life planned out now.”

He gave you an odd look. “You know, sometimes I can’t tell if you’re taking the piss out of me or complimenting me.”

You blinked innocently. “…Complimenting. Just go with always complimenting.”

Oliver’s laugh burst out unexpectedly, his eyes widening in surprise, and for a moment, he paused, blinking in disbelief. His shoulders shook slightly as he attempted to choke down the laughter, a brief, almost sheepish look flitting across his face.

Christmas with Oliver was far from boring, you decided. And filled with far less work than you had hope to complete during the break, but you weren’t exactly complaining. You hadn’t really wanted to spend the holidays studying, head buried in textbooks until your vision swam and your eyes hurt.

--

Footsteps thudded down the corridor, gradually growing louder as they approached the empty Charms classroom you had chosen as your study spot for the afternoon (no, you were not scared to return because Madame Pince had given you such a stern look last time you had left the Library in fits of giggles.) You glanced up briefly, before shaking your head and staring back at the instructions for brewing a Polyjuice Potion.

You copied down the steps one by one:

Add 3 measures of fluxweed to the cauldron (must have been picked on a full moon).

Add 2 bundles of knotgrass to the cauldron.

And the door burst open, disturbing your peace and solitude that had lasted all of maybe half an hour, when Oliver had decided he was too antsy to keep sitting and writing notes for an afternoon. But you refused to give in and look up, you were in a rhythm now,

Stir 4 times, clockwise.

Wave your wand then let potion brew for 80 minutes (for a Pewter Cauldron. A Brass Cauldron will only require 68, and a copper one only 60.)

“Oi, Y/N.” You were unsurprised to hear Oliver panting at the door, feet scuffing on the floor as he inched closer to your desk.

“Buzz off, Oliver.”

Right.

Add 4 leeches to the cauldron.

“Please, I’m so bored and so lonely.”

You rolled your eyes with a sigh.

Add 2 scoops of lacewing flies to the mortar, crush to a fine paste, then add 2 measures of the crushed lacewings to the cauldron.

“Please, please, please.” You could almost hear the pout in Oliver’s voice, and it took all your resolve not to look up and just give in. You’d actually managed to get some work done in the time he’d been gone, and you were not going to let him stop you now.

Heat for 30 seconds on a low heat.

And then he sat on your desk. Spilling your ink pot everywhere.

“Oliver!” You shrieked as ink splattered across your beautiful, handwritten notes, hand flying up to cover your mouth.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m so sorry, hang on, Scourgify!” Oliver waved his wand rather hopelessly, darting out of reach of your hand flailing out to slap him. The ink dribbled away from your page, and you stared at the rather slapdash cleaning job.

Well, that had certainly ruined your concentration for the afternoon. You weren’t sure you could face rewriting those notes without crying.

“What do you want?” You glared at him, chewing on the inside of your lip to keep your expression stern as he stared at you with all the sadness of a kicked puppy.

“Company?” He squeaked.

You took a deep breath, slammed your textbook shut and folded your arms.

“Please, Y/N, I’m begging you. I’m so bored.”

“You’ve not even been working for the last half hour; what have you even been doing?”

Oliver looked away, mouth opening and then closing again in a rather gormless way. A little voice in your brain whispered that it was rather endearing, but you battered that thought away with ferocity. His boredom had cost you half a page of notes. Yes, they were still legible, but they weren’t pretty anymore.

“Fine,” you sighed. Giving in. “What is it? Off to the pitch again then?”

You tilted your head as you looked up at Oliver, waiting for him to answer before you followed.

“Not in this weather,” Oliver chuckled. “You’re just a soft Southerner; I’m not having you catch hypothermia.”

You wrinkled your nose. “Don’t be a prick, Ollie. There’s such thing as Impervius.”

“Well, if you’re desperate to go out into a snowstorm, I won’t be stopping you. Otherwise…”

You glanced outside at the icy blizzard, shivered involuntarily, and turned back to him. “Go on.”

“Hot chocolate from the kitchen and then back to the common room?”

“Only if you promise me a game of Wizarding Chess.” You stretched out a hand, blinking innocently as he narrowed his eyes at you.

“What’s the forfeit this time?”

The last time you and Oliver had played Wizarding Chess had been with a bottle of Firewhisky on hand and a shot for every piece lost, which had quickly derailed into a midnight jaunt to the top of the Astronomy Tower and getting a little too close for the firmly established lines of friendship between you. Not that you were sure Oliver had noticed or even remembered. If it weren’t for the secrets of Hogwarts that Fred and George had imparted on you, there was no way you would have been able to lug that man back to the Common Room without Filch or someone else stumbling across you.

“Nothing?” You shrugged, and at his penetrating gaze, offered, “Up to you?”

“Deal.” He shook your hand, and then instead of letting go, dragged you off towards that one specific pear painting. You should never have shown it to him; he’d been abusing it mercilessly recently. Not that you particularly minded the random study session snacks; they were sweet and although you were far too logical to entertain the fantastical notions that cropped up in your thoughts, one teeny tiny part of you had decided that they were his version of a declaration of love.

[nuninho2000]

what's your opinion to all weasleys?

Well , let's start with the parents:

Arthur: I like Arthur, i really enjoy his fascination with everything related to Muggles, it reminds of those kinds of scientists, explorers and collectors on whatever are things found in Nature and then takes home with observing and studying , he's a great role model father that is caring, understanding but can be put his kids in their place when enough is enough and his relationship with Harry and Hermione and the way he takes care and watches over then is really underrated

Molly : I like Molly too , she's the definition of what a realistic mother looks like , she's not a perfect mother but always is trying her best and what's her kids to shine and have success especially in school, sure she can be a nag sometimes with her overprotective side but she is the best mother than you could ask for , in some ways she reminds my own mom and the way she welcomed Harry and show he's part of the family is good

Bill : I like him , he's a very cool old brother that has a cool job and is that kind of brother that everyone loves and the brothers friends look up to , he's a good looking and stylish guy that is patient and helpful, i love his relationship with Fleur and i think are great pair

Charlie: he's the Weasley sibling that we have less showing but just like Bill we can see that people love him especially his teammates from Quidditch like Oliver Wood , his work with dragons always fascinated me because i love dragons and the thought of him working on dangerous job is really badass

Percy; unpopular opinion but i like Percy's character arc and appreciate his development from a snobbish person and is a student role model who is ambitious and wants more , his ambition got the better of him and act really bad during book 5 the way he spoke to his father and how he was ashamed of him , ignoring his mother Christmas present was out of line, to be honest I don't blame him that much for not trusting Harry because despite knowing him they don't get along but the main reason why Percy sided with the ministry was because of the promotion and his ambition got the better of him and when was finally reveal that Voldemort returned and Harry was right all along his pride didn't make go apologise to his family and he had it coming when his siblings ignored him and twins and Ginny throwing food at him but i was really he came around in the end and finally apologised, made amends and fought in the battle of Hogwarts side his family

Fred Weasley : smart person and was a talented wizard that was a great duo with twin brother George, his death was really sad not only because he died next with Percy when everything was alright between them and the fact he died with a smile is heartbreaking and fitting his character

George Weasley: I like him , i think in terms of personality i like him more than his brother Fred , he's a great mastermind and was the best Quidditch player among the twins, i love how protective he is with Harry especially in book 2 when Harry said he would do anything to get the golden snitch and even got mad at Oliver for it , along with Ginny consolidated Ron when he thought his rat was killed

I find it so relatable he gave his pass away brother's name to his son because my name is a tribute to my dead uncle that i didn't know but from the people that knew him said he was a wonderful person

Ron : he's my favourite Weasley character and one of the characters i like the most in the series and he's in my top 10 HP favourite characters, he's brave , funny, smart, passionate, loyal, lovely person and a character that i have a ton of respect for .

He's the best friend that any person likes to have and the best friend and company that someone like Harry and Hermione should have , without him the Golden Trio wouldn't be complete and we readers couldn't have a better person to show us how the Wizarding World works .

Ginny: the lovely girl who conquered the heart of our beloved protagonist and his soulmate.

What can i say about Ginny? The shy girl that wasn't exactly shy had a good growth throughout the series and showed how brave and reckless she could be by fighting against the possession of a memory of Tom Riddle with 11 years old and hang on until it became inevitable, fought against her own trauma, had many friends, was popular, become a Quidditch player which was dream considering that use to practice without her brothers consenting and notice but the peak was when her wishes and dreams became real when the love of her life and soulmate kiss her in front of many people and started dating, unfortunately and was necessary she understood when Harry broke up with her not because he stopped loving her but to protect her .

With Harry, Ron and Hermione haunting for Horcruxs she alongside Neville and Luna restarted the DA and fought against the Carrow and tried to steal the sword of Gryffindor and fought in the battle of Hogwarts .

After the battle she and Harry rapidly started dating again, got married and had 3 wonderful kids and she realised her dream of becoming a Quidditch player for 4 years and then started to write about sports after retirement.

I love the Weasley family, what's not like, right?

[spotofimagines]

Dating George Weasley as a Ravenclaw would include...

A/N: This is the longest Would Include I've done, so long there's a read more! But I'm in a Weasley mood lately so here you go!

George Weasley x Ravenclaw reader

He sits and watches you study in the library every now and then.

Sometimes he just wants the company but is too tired to do anything but he doesn't want to interrupt you so he sits slumped in his chair, watching you write or holding your ink for you.

Other times, he will be scribbling doodles for a new sweet Fred wants to sell, heaps of parchment mixing with yours.

He always helps you put your books back when you're finished, traipsing behind you with heavy feet, but helping nonetheless.

You're the first person he comes to for help with pranks. He and Fred come up with the ideas, but you know whether the potion ingredients will work, how to say the spell properly and whether the creature they want to release in the Slytherin common room will destroy the whole school. They really would have been expelled by now if not for you.

You also helped them branch out their business by selling stuff in the Ravenclaw common room since they aren't allowed in there.

You become very popular amongst first-year troublemakers, and the small group of older Ravenclaws set up a space in the corner of the common room to buy the concoctions that will give them more time to finish their essays.

George makes sure none of his antics blow back on you. You work far too hard to have your post-school career knocked because you got too many detentions and failed your exams and he knows it.

Although you are on Filch's bad side for distracting him whilst the twins get their confiscated items from his office. And George's response to that? "Who isn't on his bad side?"

He absolutely rubs it in your face when Gryffindor beats Ravenclaw in a quidditch match, whether you really care or not, that's what he'll be spending an hour doing after he's won.

You have a running deal; you buy him a butterbeer for each match he wins and he buys you dinner each time he loses to Ravenclaw. So far George has had countless drinks. You are yet to have one meal.

He always gives you his things to wear; jumpers, hats, scarves, anything really.

But he will never, absolutely never, wear your Ravenclaw scarf; lord help him you'd think the thing was made of fire by the way he avoids it.

You don't know Oliver Wood very well, but he gave you one of the biggest scoldings you have ever received when George couldn't play a quidditch match because you'd been chasing him in the courtyard with your scarf and he fell over his own feet, landing weirdly on his elbow and hip.

After the stern lecture from Oliver and spending two days in the hospital wing with George and occasionally Fred, who found the whole ordeal hilarious, you didn't tease him with your Ravenclaw items again for a long time. He still avoids that scarf like the plague.

You're the only friend of the twins that Percy can tolerate.

Probably because when you visited The Burrow during Christmas breaks, you talked to him about his work and being head boy without ridiculing him. (And you smack George's arm when he makes rude jokes which Percy quite enjoys seeing).

George sits and listens to you rant when you need it.

He watches as you pace back and forth, words never stopping until you've gotten everything out. Then he just pulls you into a long tight hug before he tries to distract you from your problem.

About half of George's herbology work is written by you, and half his transfiguration work and probably half his care for magical creatures work too if he didn't manage to weasel Charlie into unknowingly writing him an essay every month in his letters.

George 100% tries making a million invisibility products and polyjuice potions to try and sneak into your common room at night, but Hogwarts is much too equipped to let him find success at it.

So you had to find a secret spot in the castle for your late-night rendezvous without teachers or prefects finding out.

At first, it was the girls' lavatories but Myrtle's snooping and laughter made it less than perfect. The ghost whispering in his ear halfway through a makeout session made George far too irritated to go there for a third time.

He leaves you little love notes all over the place, some telling you to keep smiling, some telling you a weird joke, some telling you how smoking you look (and now you definitely have to make sure no one can see these notes except you!).

When you have exams or projects due his love notes get more frequent since he knows you'll be stressed and seeing him less.

He always attempts to eat every meal with you in the great hall. This way you can catch up on what you've both been up to and how your classes have been while he makes sure you remember to take breaks from studying to eat properly.

If things get in the way (*cough* detention *cough*) he will take you out to The Three Broomsticks on the weekend, just the two of you, and maybe Fred, but he swears he told Fred not to come this time!

He told you about the marauders' map a day after finding it because he was certain there was something special about the spare roll of parchment in Filch's office they found under Fred's nose-biting teacups.

It was you nonchalantly guessing there's a spell keeping its contents secret before carrying on reading your book that gave him the best tool he could have wished for.

That's why you're the only other person who knows about the map. You've spent many hours sitting tucked into his side, munching on chocolate frogs and watching people walk around on the paper.

That's how you found out Fred and Angelina were dating but George's excitement to tease them about it more mischievously outweighed your want to learn the details from your friend.

Despite all of George's silliness and trouble, he might just be one of the smartest people you know outside of Ravenclaw.

Not that anyone else believes you when you say it, as his pranks are known to be foolish, but you've seen the way he and Fred create their products and plan their business throughout the years. No one else has the mix of academic and streets smarts to be that successful, you're sure of it.

[almondmilktargaryen]

The Girl Who's Got Agoraphobia (Part Three)

*pictures not mine. layout made via canva

Summary: You're the girl with agoraphobia Michael told Oliver about. You're known for not leaving your room much (obviously). But that doesn't stop Michael from checking on you.

Couple: Fem!Reader/Michael Gavey

Category: Flangst, friends to lovers

Word count: 1.7k

Also on my Ao3

Part one | Part two | Part three | Part four

N.F.I., Me and You

There was a college Christmas party tonight. You and Michael heard about it. No one told you, of course. You just overheard it from people who didn’t know you were listening. They didn’t invite you. That was a given. When you asked Michael if he was upset about not getting an invitation, he responded (oh-so maturely) by blowing raspberries. Not in your face, though. He’s not an animal.

You quickly learned that not being invited to a college party (of any kind, because you weren’t invited to any of them) had a bright side - the library was all for you. Completely vacant. Quiet and vacant. Your go-to spots are in the back, where shelves wall you in and gawkers can’t peer in through the windows and interrupt your flow. No one does that, but it can feel that way. There was no need to look over your shoulder here. There was no open space for a person to exist. Only books and just enough room to scoot out of your chair. The air smelled faintly of dust and old paper, a comforting scent that always made you feel at ease. The yellow lights in the ceiling cast a soft, steady hum, adding to the peaceful silence.

Most people who show up to the library treat the place like it’s social hour, gathering around tables to chat shit, drown in coffee (that they weren’t supposed to have inside), and not touch a single book. Which is another reason you choose this location every time; no one finds this area entertaining for long. You wouldn’t be surprised if only a few people knew about its existence.

And speaking of only a few people, Michael emerged between the bookshelves, peeking from the side like he was going to scare you.

Well, he did scare you. Startle is a better word for it. You jerked in your seat at the sight of him in your peripheral. The look of instant regret played on his face; wide eyes and a gaped mouth. He apologized with a frantic, “Sorry, sorry!”

You laughed in spite of it. “If you wanted to kill me, then just say it, Michael.”

He snickered at you. “I knew you’d be here. And I wanted to see you.”

Then you looked down at what he was holding. Not books, as expected.

Michael’s eyes darted from the table to you. “Here, I brought you something.” He set the mugs down (a decaf Americano for him, a white macchiato for you). The thud of ceramic against lacquered wood echoed in the quiet, similar to the thud of your heart against your ribs, only on repeat. The rich aroma of coffee wafted up, mingling with the scent of the old books, creating an oddly comforting blend.

You were stunned by it. Not just because of the gesture (it was such a sweet gesture), but because of the obvious. “Michael,” you said to him, “you know the rules.”

“I do.” He smirked, then took the seat across from you, adjusting his glasses.

“Then why’d you bring open drinks from the shop?”

“Because no one stopped me.”

“If we get caught, then we’ll get in trouble.” The anxiety alone of getting into trouble was enough to make your leg bounce. Yet you tried to swallow down the fear. Your throat was already so dry from the winter weather, and you could already feel a sweat percolating under your collar.

“No. They like you too much. Because you don’t do anything.”

That was true, at least. You didn’t know if they necessarily liked you, but for someone who doesn’t leave the dorms much, you’re at least recognizable considering that they smile when you visit.

Michael pushed your macchiato toward you, and you worried it would spill. You pondered, looking at the coffee, then back up to Michael as if he were making you choose between the red or blue pill. The macchiato beckoned you in anyway, so you lifted it to your lips like there was no turning back. It soothed your throat from the winter air. “Thank you.” You pulled a napkin from your blazer pocket to wipe the froth off your mouth. Michael didn’t pick up on how deep your breaths were (because he wasn’t looking at you. He was poking around in his satchel). It was difficult to capture a good amount of air to fill your lungs and rid them of the lingering anxiety. The sip of caffeine you just took was definitely not going to help, but at least it was delicious.

“Also, I wanted to give this back to you.” He held up a collection of Kate Chopin’s short stories. He extended his arm across the table for you to take it.

You did and quickly flipped through the book before putting it in your bag. He completed reading The Awakening a week after he began and was delayed in cracking open her short stories. “So, what did you think?”

“I see why you like ‘A Story of an Hour’ so much. Very much your style of humor.”

At least this time at the end, the woman dying had a funny layer to it; seeing her husband actually not dead from a reported accident made her “die of joy” when she, once again, was happy to not be married anymore.

He picked up his Americano. “I definitely see the pattern you’re talking about. With the marriage part. But it makes sense why it would be so consistent. Given the time and all.”

“Yeah.” You nodded as you said it. Despite your hesitation, you still reached out to take another drink. You could already feel the caffeine coursing. As you tried to steady your breath, you scanned your notes again. You could feel Michael’s eyes on you, and you were afraid he was noticing. “How’s Oliver?”

Michael sighed. “Dunno. I’ve seen him staring a lot at Felix Catton and his group of fucking losers. He’s been acting differently.”

“Really? You think they’re friends?”

“Michael shrugged, his arms still flat on the table. “Not sure. I’ve never seen them together. He still doesn’t talk much, so not the same on the charisma scale.”

Maybe he has a crush on him. Has he talked about him?” You asked slowly, as you swallowed.

“Not around me. He didn’t know about the party either.”

“Hm,” you simply said. Your fingers twitched as the energy reached the ends of your feet. You swore you heard footsteps somewhere between the shelves where Michael came in. You were almost convinced that someone would catch you, clenching your teeth as you prepared for inevitable embarrassment.

Michael leaned back in his chair, looking down the aisle. “No one’s there.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I think someone was just walking by. No big deal.”

“Okay.” Your exhale was slow before picking your pen back up. You lost track of where you were in your rewrites. People like Felix and Venitia Catton and their peers may be more popular, drunk, and social than you’ll ever be, but their grades matter by the end of the semester. At least one of them always needs notes for classes they didn’t attend, especially if they need to retake the class. They’re just as vain, so aesthetically pleasing notes will sell more. You searched through, trying to find where you left off. But your leg bounced once more, the small heel of your shoe growing obnoxious.

“Still nervous?”

You nodded as you searched, finding where you left off and trying to concentrate on your handwriting; being slow and methodical to keep it as neat as a font.

“You can dare to take risks now and then, you know. It’s not always going to turn out as bad as you think.” His tone was earnest as he leaned forward slightly.

But you gripped your pen to instinct, pausing as your stare turned hard, finding Michael in your crosshairs.

He rested his head on the table. His lips disappeared into his mouth briefly as he started to put together that he may have fucked up. “What?”

Okay, maybe not.

“You know it’s not that simple for me. You, of all people, should know that it’s not that simple, Michael.”

“Phobias are irrational. They feed on an extreme lack of logic.” He said it with a mix of defense in his argument. It was as if this was something up for debate.

“I understand how phobias work, Michael. Like you, I am a student at Oxford University. I may not be a genius like you, but I understand my phobia from years of my research and experience.”

Michael picked his head back up. Perhaps the growing heat from your anger started brushing against him. “I just…” his back hit the chair and his posture sank. “I’d rather not see you miss out on four years of Oxford University.”

“My time at Oxford University is for education. Just like yours.”

“You know what I mean.” He blinks as his glasses slide down his nose.

“Do I?”

“I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.” He leaned forward, reaching a hand out. He was literally trying to bridge the gap. Any other time, you would’ve taken it.

“You can’t control that.”

“But you can control cows?” The hand was gone, and his tone turned sharp as his words sliced through the library's quiet. “You deserve a break from the academic side of all this. Like everyone else.”

“You think the outside world is a break for me?”

“Well, not exactly but—”

You snapped your notebooks closed and stood to put on your overcoat. “I need to go.” You struggled to keep your voice steady, mapping out the typical path from the library to your dorm.

“Wait, don’t.” He reached out, but you gave him nothing.

You didn’t respond or even look at him. The Christmas party was likely still happening, given it was only seven in the evening. You hoped Michael wouldn’t get up. You hoped he’d let you leave. He knew you didn’t like feeling trapped, but he didn’t seem to know (or care) as much as you thought he did.

You were mindful as you walked between the shelves, conscious of the bookbag you held against your hip and making sure it didn’t knock any books to the floor. The trickle of tears lined your eyes and burned as you tried to hold them back. The library's warmth, once comforting, now felt suffocating, and you longed for the crisp air outside.

Taglist: @anukulee

[t1oui]

tastastastassss please would you share some percy weasley headcanons or thoughts about him in general

(just remembered he and oliver wood were in the same year and thus dorm... and percy gives me Massive twink energy, like a less dramatic francis abernathy)

HI YES i will indeed do this

so yeah in canon percy and oliver shared a dorm but in my mind there is no way percy weasley isn't in slytherin so my percy shares a dorm w marcus flint instead. anyways here are some headcanons

he's very bisexual and yes definitely a twink

he's also tall. probably one of if not the tallest guys in his year

good poker face but this man is a huge simp. for christmas, valentine's day, oliver's birthday, etc. he always panics on what to buy and gets oliver like 40 things including like 8 bouquets of flowers lol

penelope clearwater and marcus flint are his best friends other than oliver !! these four are chaotic. marauders vibes but they don't get caught

definitely a bit of a drama queen, but he hates when people (marcus) point it out b/c he does not see himself that way.

studies too hard for his own good and still has time for quidditch somehow (he's only playing to beat fred and george. he's a chaser btw)

actually very sensitive. like he will be stoic until something inconveniences him and then he will SOB

hates himself a little bit (sometimes a lot) because he's so different from his family

insecure about his freckles

takes younger slytherin students (like draco malfoy) under his wing because he knows what it's like to be part of the house everybody hates

fully despises dumbledore

always the first to notice when something's wrong (quirrell being sus, something being wrong with "moody"/crouch sr, etc) but alwasy the last person adults listen to

has been best friends with ginny since she was a little kid

does more for his siblings than they realize. cares about them so much, and his heart breaks every time they choose to fight with him or tease him instead of seeing how fucked up it is that he was shunned for being different

was almost put in gryffindor/is in gryffindor because he's extremely brave

was put in slytherin/almost put in slytherin because he will do anything for those he cares about, even if it's considered morally wrong

has and will use unforgivables; they're just spells to him, they're not anything scary or different

patronus is a crow

animagius form (i told you he and his friends were like the marauders lol) is a cat

if he notices two people pining for each other he will do everything in his power to make them date because he's quite the romantic. oliver helps.

has trained himself not to blush because he's so pale he just turns into a beet if he blushes at all (his friends, oliver especially, still make him go red occasionally)

cut off contact with arthur and molly for a little while after the war and was only really talking to ginny, occasionally charlie and bill

becomes head of the dmle

starts a petition after the war to get the atrium statue at the ministry - which shows a bunch of non-wizard creatures looking up to wizards like they're the superior beings - taken down. he does not shut up about this project until the statue is replaced, he hates it so much

that's all for now !! but feel free to send me more asks, ty for this one :)

[7s3ven]

HARRY POTTER... masterlist

[ full masterlist ]

who i write for ,

Harry Potter - Slytherin gang (fancast too), Golden trio, Tom Riddle, Cedric Diggory, Weasley twins

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

tom riddle... OBSESSION

IN WHICH… Tom Riddle is partnered with a Gryffindor for potions. He expects them to crush every assignment sent their way, but what he doesn’t expect is him falling in love.

theodore nott... ONE CUP OF COFFEE

IN WHICH… Theodore Nott can’t stand the idea of actually falling in love but he finds himself questioning his choices after a rather comforting conversation with a Hufflepuff.

theodore nott... THE IDEA OF US

IN WHICH… the saddest thing in a relationship is knowing you met the wrong person at the wrong time yet you still can’t let them go.

theodore nott... BACK TO THE START

IN WHICH… theodore nott is dating the perfect girl, yet prefers to keep her hidden from his friends.

'23 CHRISTMAS SERIES

tom riddle... LAST CHRISTMAS

IN WHICH… Tom can’t fall in love, he shouldn’t fall in love. So why does he love Y/N L/N with her yellow robes, doe eyes, and her obsession with snow so much that he’d kill anyone in his path to get to her?

( last christmas - wham! )

harry potter... BUY ME PRESENTS

IN WHICH… Y/N L/N’s situationship, Matteo Riddle, isn’t the best boyfriend material and when he forgets to buy her a Christmas present, she finally breaks it off. Luckily, she knows someone who’ll do everything Matteo didn’t.

( buy me presents - sabrina carpenter )

oliver wood... ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS YOU

IN WHICH… Nothing would make Oliver Wood happier than getting a new broom as his Christmas present. That, or Y/N Malfoy finally noticing him. When the two collide at Hogsmeade, Oliver is overjoyed. Perhaps this Christmas, he’ll get two gifts.

( all i want 4 christmas is u - mariah carey )

cedric diggory... CINDY LOU WHO

IN WHICH… Y/N L/N helps her crush and longtime best friend, Cedric Diggory, get with another girl. Deep down, she knows she’ll never be the bright and bubbly girl Cedric wants. She’ll always be the cunning snake with a knack for starting fights.

( cindy lou who - sabrina carpenter )

draco malfoy... SANTA, TELL ME

IN WHICH… Draco Malfoy no longer enjoys Christmas, especially not when he has to stay at Hogwarts while all his friends are gone. But a certain bright-eyed Hufflepuff is glad to keep him company.

( santa, tell me - ariana grande )

[redheadspark]

Hi! May I have Oliver Wood with #10, please?

A/N - Awww I love this! Thanks for the request, anon!

Repeat

Summary - Oliver hears something that makes him stop in his tracks

Warnings - Just fluff

“Alright, we need to talk about the Holidays coming up!”

“Do we?”

“Yes!  Especially since your mum is expecting me to come to dinner at least once!”

Oliver rolled his eyes and placed his playbook down in his lap, seeing you perched in the armchair across from him while the Gryffindor Common Room fireplace was crackling with a roaring fire.  Thankfully, it was just the two of you, since the rest of Gryffindor House was either out and about or winding down for the night.  The first signs snowfall was coming through Hogwarts Valley with the first snowfall hitting the castle that evening and chilling temperature.  Thankfully, with the magic that was all over Hogwarts, every room was toasty warm with barely any breeze coming through the corridors or in the class rooms.

The Christmas Holidays were coming around the corner, most of the students were planning on getting on the Hogwarts Express to head home for the two week holiday.  You and Oliver included, the pair of you planning on visiting each other’s homes since your families knew one another for years.  It was also nice that you both lived very close to one another, 3 miles from each other’s homes in a small muggle community.  It was almost a running gag when you two were kids that you both would end up together as a couple, to which both yourself and Oliver denied it and claimed to be friends.

You ended up being together since your 3rd year, to the delight of both sets of parents.

Now in your 7th year, yourself and Oliver wished to enjoy your last year of Hogwarts together as much as you could before the real world would come into play.  It was nice that you both had some plans lined up and what you wished to do as careers, Oliver having plenty of money saved up from chores in the summer to get the pair of you a small little apartment.  You too had some money, and the apartment he found was close to his aunt in case the pair of you needed anything.  

But for now, you were enjoying the holiday season as it was coming around the corner.  You had another week at Hogwarts before going on the train back home, and you wished to hammer out some of the details with Oliver.  Yet true to his fashion, he was pushing it off to the last minute. Of course he had other things to work on, including The Gryffindor Team that was on the path to winning against Slytherin.  

“My mum wants you to come over Christmas Eve, and I know your mum wants me over Christmas night, right?” You asked him as watched up read the last bit of your paragraph of your book.

“Aye, but I do need to warn ya, my mum is invitin’ a few of my Aunts and Uncles to dinner and they’re gonna want in interrogate ya,” Oliver explained as he tossed his playbook on the coffee table in front of him. You giggled, looking up from the book over at him and seeing him watch you with his big grin.

“Should I be worried?” You asked coyly.

“Eh. They’re a bit harmless for the most part.  But I can’t make any promises if the photos of me as a baby come out though,” Oliver explained as you giggled, “My Aunts loved takin’ pictures of me all the time since I was the first nephew for them to torture,”

“They sound lovely,” You commented, stretching your arms over your head to get some feeling back in your arms from sitting in the chair for too long, “Then you know my Dad and how he’ll steer you into a corner and chat about Quidditch for hours on end,”

“I don’t mind talking to your Da about quidditch, you know that,” He reasoned as he ruffled his own hair, “Although his favorite team is to be debated still.”

“You are still peeved that he doesn’t prefer Puddlemure United?” You asked as a joke, Oliver glaring at you though it was playful.

“Chudley Cannons are not as competitive as they used to be!” He reasoned, you rolling your eyes.

“Don’t tell Ron Weasley that,” you grumbled, Oliver laughing from the mention of the Weasley that loved and craved the sport, “Still, I’ll have a word with my Dad in how he talks to the love of my life and try not to have another argument like last year,”

Oliver paused as you were looking at the cover of your book, you not realizing what you just said but Oliver hearing every single word of it.  Only the sound of the cracking fire was heard and the soft wind outside the windows that blew the snow sideways, but Oliver was opening and closing his mouth like a fish like you were still too occupied with your book.

“Can you please repeat that?” He asked, you looking up at him with a raised brow as he faced you from his spot on the couch.

“Repeat what?” You asked, seeing a massive smile on his face. It was then that you realized what was said and you blushed madly, looking down at your book again and trying to avoid his face.

“Oh no, go on and repeat it!” He replied, you shaking your head sheepishly.  He then got up from the couch and glided over to you, crowding you in the chair and peppering your face with kisses.  You sweated, trying to squirm away and avoid his lips but he was far too quick thanks to his quidditch reflects.  You loved  this side of Oliver, the side with his walls down and nothing stressing him out.  Not thinking of quidditch, not thinking about class work, just being there with you and enjoying your time together.

“Come on, say it!” He teased as he tickled your sides and kissed all over your face. You laughed os hard you had tears in your eyes as you finally shoved him a bit to have him lean back. You cupped his fae and kissed him, feeling him melt against you as he was kneeling in front of the couch and keep you trapped in the furniture.  But this time it was soft, the laughter under your skin as you grinned against his lips with another kiss.

You finally pulled away after a solid minute of you two kissing and you peered in his bright brown eyes that looked a pinch lighter with joy, “I love you.  Okay?”

“Good thing I feel the same way too, darlin’.” He replied, leaning in to kiss you once more.

A week later, on the train ride home for the holidays, you two would be snuggled in your own compartment and looking forward to having Christmas together.

The End.

November Prompt Session

[thealexandriaarchives]

The Arrakis Royal Ballet in Arrakeen has just had a crisis of leadership under the management of the CHOAM Foundation which oversees its board, and Vladimir Harkonnen has been ousted as chairman, which means two things: Oh thank god we don't have to watch the same 5 Tchaikovsky shows over and over again this season, Swan Lake and The Firebird are FINE but GOD- and the Company's default leading man for every performance, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, will suddenly have to compete for his slot.

That's totally fine, but the next person to fill the board's slot is Leto Atredies, a man who's actively investigating the Harkonnens for using the Ballet for money laundering as well as reputation laundering, and his son, Paul Atredies, is about to make his international debut after being quietly... discouraged, from applying. Still, whether as a PR move or an olive branch, Leto suggests a Ballet to fit the bill: Giselle.

It's French, so it will give people something different from the aggressively Russian fare Vlad had selected for the last several seasons. ...A bit unfair, perhaps, Chani had been hoping for Balanchine outside of Christmas, but Feyd never expected he'd even get so much as Italian. Paul Atredies was taught by masters in the classical French schools and he's got the light, precise, delicate footwork and speed to show for it. Hell with that slight frame, and some of the moves Feyd has seen him do on TikTok, which is about the only place he's been able to perform up until now, there have even been whispers he could perform the female roles just as easily.

But Giselle is good. It will give Chani some space to show off her acting chops as she falls in love and goes insane, casts Irulan well as a cold and vicious wraith queen, ordering men to their deaths, and it's underperformed- often because it requires two strong male leads in the same company.

As soon as he hears the name Feyd-Rautha doesn't kid himself about which role he'll be playing. Even if he didn't personally prefer Hilarion to the lying noble prick Albrecht is revealed to be, there's no way the new chairman's son and anointed star is going to be the one drowned like a rat in a bucket by the end of act two.

Besides, Feyd knows what the last act requires physically, and he's seen Atredies throwing his whole body into full spins again and again through the air in his million dollar barre studio online. Feyd's just not going to let a spoiled green debutante get away with blowing this for everyone else.

So on the first day of rehearsals, while Chani and Stilgar are off with the set designer, discussing the frankly insane decision to replace the woods and lake with a desert terrain out of Lawrence of Arabia, Feyd-Rautha sidles up to their untested new danseur noble as he laces his shoes.

"I hear you're our new Duke of Arrakis."

[florenceafternoon]

━。゜✿ jily fic recommendations ✿ ゜。━

These fics are set in the wizarding world but aren’t necessarily canon complaints.

For reference, anything in italics is taken from the summaries on ao3.

I ain’t missing you at all  (requires an ao3 account) by @blitheringmcgonagall

Set post first wizarding war. "Lily Evans disappeared just when the war with Voldemort ended. Nobody knows why she left. James Potter doesn't care. He hasn't missed her at all."

It reads like a character study. All of the repressed emotions are so well-portrayed that I could picture all their facial expressions and body language. The dynamic between Lily and the marauders really illustrated how she wasn't just James' girlfriend - she was their friend too. I just wanted to give them all a hug.

Up In Arms by @mppmaraudergirl

When Lily jokingly tells her owl to deliver a letter to "the love of her life", i.e. Marlene McKinnon, her owl misinterprets the directive and, to her horror, her ode to James Potter’s arms lands squarely in his lap.

The banter in this one is so good that it made my friend fall back in love with jily's dynamic and read fics again

Evergreen and Pine by @tinyluminaryzombie

Lily Evans is stuck in a closet with Sirius. All Sirius wants to talk about is exactly what she's trying not to think about: James Potter.

Or: A seven minutes in heaven that's more like seven minutes of sweet sweet interegation ft. Lily and Sirius.

Smoke Gets In Your Eyes by @jfleamont

Lily's an overthinker, but fear not, James knows exactly what to say to cheer her up.

Because Lily being a stress smoker is canon (to me)

All The Things I Would Do also by @/ jfleamont

Lily can't stop thinking about James' hands.

Anything Leda writes is great so do yourself a favour and go read her works

I’ve Got My Hate to Keep Me Warm by @dizzy–bird

When a mission for the Order goes badly wrong, Lily Evans must spend the holidays lying low in the middle of nowhere. The rules: no magic, no visitors, and absolutely no Christmas cheer.

And the kicker? She’s sharing the safe house with Order darling – and rival – James Potter, who just happens to be the reason she’s in this mess in the first place.

Kat's poem from 10 Things I Hate About You

Hemispheres by @ohmygodshesinsane

James Potter and Lily Evans have set aside their schoolyard animosities for the sake of the Order of the Phoenix, but when they are enlisted to race Lord Voldemort across the world to prevent him from corrupting the very nature of death, tensions run high. In all manners.

Lily's characterisation in this one is so good

No One Knows Us by @annasghosts

As Fifth Year begins, Lily Evans is certain of a few things: she’s proud to be a Muggle-born witch, despite what Petunia might think; Severus Snape is still a loyal friend and whatever confusing feelings she has as she watches James Potter strut around the castle must be squashed because he’s nothing, but an arrogant toerag.

In which Lily gets the dynamic character treatment that she deserves.

51 Minutes to Change Your Mind by @sosohh

When Muggle-Born Oliver Wood becomes an extremely successful cyclist for the British Cycling team, both muggle and magical ministries have to come up with a plan to make sure all is fair. Enter James Potter and Lily Evans.

The Art of Self-Defense by cgner (on ao3)

Gilmore Girls AU in which "after seventeen years of single parenting, she now has to manage a persistent James, nosy villagers, and a son who's all too interested in joining the Order."

[badolmen]

When I was little, some Palestinian Christians came to our church.

They didn’t call themselves that, of course, being in a white, right leaning American town in the mid to early 2010s. ‘Fellow Catholics from the Holy Land’ the reader for the week announced them as. After mass there were always announcements, and I remember this Arab man with a dark jacket taking to the pulpit. He and those with him were sitting in the front pew - just ahead of where my family sat each week.

He talked about his home in Bethlehem - though it was a little out of season, Christmas well since passed. He talked about the poverty there, the socioeconomic factors that made life difficult for Palestinians, but this was after a long Irish mass with a long Irish homily and no one was listening that intently. My mom whispered that he didn’t have much of an accent, and my dad whispered back that he agreed - not too difficult to understand.

They were here to sell treasures from the Holy Land. Hand carved olive wood rosaries and prayer beads, nativity sets, reliefs of the last supper. ‘A trade passed down from father to son for generations.’

The most expensive item they had was a lovely crucifix - olive wood inlaid with a hand carved mosaic of mother of pearl, four wells at the end of each piece of the cross containing olive leaves, incense, stones, and soil. It was over $50 - I remember because I begged my mother to let me spend my usual summer stipend of $25 for the next two years, and it still wasn’t quite enough. A few dollars short. But he gave it to me anyway.

For years I almost never took it out of its box - it was too pretty, I was too afraid to break it. I first hung it up after I moved out for college - it always caught the thin winter sunlight in my dorm room and seemed to glow. But it got dusty, and was difficult to clean with all its intricacies, so I put it back in its box. Safe with the dried palm leaves from last year’s Lent.

I saw a post a bit ago, mentioning how hand carved mother of pearl is a more obscure Palestinian art form, and I remembered my crucifix. I remembered the Palestinian Christian man who nobody really listened to at 9 AM on a Sunday while their kids begged to leave and get breakfast.

I counted the individual pieces of mother of pearl today. There’s 89. The cross itself is made of 14 pieces of olive wood perfectly slotted together. The figure of Christ is silver, weathering green with age. I’ve never washed this crucifix, but I probably should. There’s a stamp across the back - ‘Jerusalem’ - and another, fainter (quickly pressed with just too little ink) - ‘Mother of Pearl is Hand Made by Christian Families in the Hole Land.’ That’s not a typo - the stamp has an ‘e’ instead of a ‘y.’ It’s smudged, so maybe there’s an ‘i’ in there, but maybe not.

I looked up the company that made it today. Their website is freshly dated for 2024 in the bottom right hand corner, but they haven’t updated their blog posts since 2022. The posts that are up talk of sites of faith, the art process, and COVID. There’s a noticeable number of spelling and grammar errors, but I don’t really care.

The cross I own is listed as a work from Majdi Alshayeb. I can’t find them on social media, not at first glance. I hope they’re well. I wish they knew how I’ve revered this crucifix more as a work of art than as a symbol of faith. I hope God is with them.

[valtsv]

it makes me kinda sad when i think about all the interesting friends and acquaintances my parents used to have who they just... don't talk about anymore, let alone talk to or spend time with, because they went off the deep end with facebook conspiracy theories and antivaxx bullshit and generally turned into weirdo conservatives. like the slavic orthodox monk who used to play football with me and my brother when he came to visit sometimes, or the japanese photographer whose parents sent us cultural exchange gifts every christmas, or the polish woman who toured the world with a dancing/theatre troupe when she was young and later moved to spain and started her own olive farm business, or the american jewish family who lived down the road when we were kids who my mom was best friends with, or my brother's godfather the polish biker gang priest who rode a harley davidson to sermons, or my south african godmother who collected incredible wood carvings of dragons and giraffes and elephants and filled her house with beautiful jewel-colored paintings and ornamental bird cages and brightly patterned and bejewelled throw blankets and rugs and told me about growing up during and post-apartheid and helped me to understand important historical events and social issues we never covered in school and was one of the most unconditionally kind and helpful people i've ever met, or the german family my mom used to spend hours talking to on the phone, or the woman my mom was friends with whose son was trans and who supported my own struggles with gender and sexuality and encouraged me to express myself. i can't even get in touch with most of them because i never got their contact details, and i can hardly ask my parents now. it's just so thoroughly depressing how much life and culture my childhood was filled with and how my parents destroyed that before i was even old enough to fully appreciate it.

[dhr-advent]

Chaperone Chaos, Mistletoe Madness: A Yule Ball Tale by scullymurphy

Chaperone Chaos, Mistletoe Madness: A Yule Ball Tale (5000 words) by scullymurphy Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Neville Longbottom/Oliver Wood Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Neville Longbottom, Minerva McGonagall, Peeves (Harry Potter), Oliver Wood Additional Tags: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Enemies to Lovers, Hogwarts Professors, Professor Draco Malfoy, Professor Hermione Granger, Yule Ball (Harry Potter), Ballroom Dancing, Winter Solstice, Mistletoe, Banter, Banter as a Competitive Sport, Angry Attraction, Irritated to Lovers, Belligerent Sexual Tension, Rolled Sleeves Agenda, Community: dhr_advent, Lust Story Summary:

Professors Malfoy and Granger hate each other. They're also chaperoning the Yule Ball, where Erotogenic Mistletoe makes a timely appearance.